John said:
They like it.
http://nytimes.com/2005/04/22/automobiles/22auto.html
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My Life, My Subaru Outback XT
As told to DANA WHITE
Published: April 22, 2005
As the child of hippies, I spent my formative years crisscrossing the
U.S. in a converted school bus while my mother and stepfather shopped
for a spiritual home. They eventually settled on Buddhism, which I now
practice as well. Given my nomadic childhood, it's not surprising that
I've spent the better part of my adult life searching for stability. In
some ways I'm still searching, but at least I've found it in my car.
The Outback is my second Subaru. My first was a 2004 Impreza WRX, the
souped-up version, but it was too small and looked too much like an
economy car. I needed something bigger and, honestly, more adult. I
wanted a little luxury - heated seats, a moon roof - and more room to
haul my two dogs.
One day I took the Impreza in for service in Salt Lake City and spotted
an Outback on the showroom floor. I liked what I saw. The new interior
is much nicer than in the past; the 2005 resembles an Audi, only more
affordable and more sensible. It has a 2.5-liter turbo engine, so it's
fast; all-wheel-drive, so it's safe; and a huge moon roof that lets lots
of sunshine in. If you can't have a convertible, it's the closest thing.
Contrary to popular perception, not all Buddhists are into self-denial.
It's a question of desire. Shambhala Buddhists such as myself have no
problem appreciating the finer things, as long as we don't get too
attached to them. Of course, I'm quite attached to my Outback. I didn't
say I was good at this stuff.
Subarus are a common sight around here. I live in a subdivision outside
Park City, and I joke that the neighborhood regulations stipulate you
must have at least one Subaru in the driveway. I lived in Washington,
D.C., for several years, and saw plenty of people driving big S.U.V.'s
that they absolutely did not need. You come out here to the mountains,
where people know what they're doing, and they're driving Subarus and
Volvo Cross Countries and Audi Allroads. We want a car that's not going
to roll over and doesn't drink a lot of gas.
I've always been fascinated by cars, even if my earliest memories do
take place in that school bus. When I was about 4, my mother and
stepfather bought it from a school in Pittsburgh. They installed beds, a
kitchen and a bathroom and painted it green and white. We called it the
Turtle, though riding in it was like being in a boat on the open water.
We had many adventures. One time, when customs agents inspected our bus
at the Canadian border, my parents asked me to sit on the bed to
disguise the fact that there was pot stashed underneath. I'm not sure
what happened to the bus; I think we left it at a commune somewhere.
Later, my parents got into Buddhism in Pennsylvania and followed their
guru to Boulder, Colo. We lived in an A frame at 9,000 feet and later in
a subdivision in Nederland. My stepfather was really into Audis - for
hippies, they had pretty epicurean tastes - and my mom drove a
succession of them until her divorce. We moved to Utah to be near her
family and bought a boxy Subaru Loyale wagon. It was reliable but square.
I graduated from the University of Utah and got a job as a computer
consultant in Washington, D.C.. I married a woman I'd met in Utah. We
had an Acura and a Saab. After 9/11 we moved back to Utah. It was my
idea - I wanted to be close to my family and to skiing. My wife and I
were together for 10 years, but we finally admitted that while we love
each other very much, we have some fundamental incompatibilities, and
earlier this year we decided to move on. She kept the Saab.
The Outback was my gift to myself after the divorce. There were no
negotiations. I got it in red, a color Julie would have never liked -
she thinks red attracts the highway patrol. I also got a beige and white
interior, which she would have considered completely impractical,
especially in mud season.
Yet now that I've got a nice car and my own house and a good career, I
wonder, especially with the Buddhist thing, have I settled down too
much? Am I diverting too much energy into believing that all this is
real? I'll have plenty of time to think about it this summer: I'm
spending a month as a seminary student at the Shambhala Mountain Center,
a Buddhist retreat in Colorado. Once I get there I'll park my Outback
and forget about it. But I know it will be waiting.
