Well, it's been quite awhile since I've done some "Andy Polley bloggin'."  I miss it.  I've written stories, I've kept people updated, but I haven't been bloggin' as I like to.  But rest assured, the fuel is always there.  Boy, I could write for days with what's up in my mind...it's a never-ending montage of thoughts, insights, and questions.  Daily.

And I finally have some downtime tonight, so I'm just goin' to jump right back into it.  No real purpose.  No real agenda.  Just some thoughts I had from a couple days ago.  Who knows?  Maybe this will rekindle my fire.  I would sure enjoy that.

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It's been a long time coming for me.  Almost a year to be exact.  I realized just several weeks ago when I started my intense searching for a job.  One day it just struck me...

I have been unemployed for nearly ONE YEAR.  Before that moment, it never really occurred to me at all!  I mean, my life hasn't necessarily been in that perhaps boring unemployment status at all.  Since my last job in August 2007, I have visited 5 countries, spent three months in Europe, undergone surgery, acquired several advanced pilot ratings, and more or less just prepared myself for my next chapter of life.

But ONE YEAR!!!  Wow.  My dad really does have it right...I really am a professional bum!  It's funny to me, though, really.  I mean, I have been unemployed for a year.  So what's the catch financially?  I mean, how can I do that, right?

Well, the short answer is...wise and aggressive saving, large and unwelcome but perhaps necessary debt, and creative living.  What do I mean?  Well, I love to save money.  I really do.  I understand how money works, and even just working two part-time jobs, I was able to save what I would call a substantial amount of cash in just two years.  Enough to propel me on the European trip of a lifetime with plenty for down the road.

But let me not forget about debt.  Over the last six months, I have acquired nearly $40,000 in debt.  Yeah, and that is AFTER college!  Who does that?!  ha.  But I had the end in sight, and I really believe that my current pilot ratings will bode well for me in the future.  I see it as much as an investment as I do a debt.

And creative living.  With no job, I still could use some money.  I mean, I still drove...and ate...and lived!  So I had to be creative for a couple of months.  I knew a full-time job would be silly with my surgery, and I didn't have the heart to give an employer a month of good work followed by a couple of "rehab work."  So I did what I do best...bought and sold.  I bought several items...then sold them on the internet.  Made enough to keep me afloat for awhile.

Anyway, all that to say, after nearly one year (only within a couple of weeks!), I finally have my first official full-time job.  I am 26 years old, and this is my first one.  We'll see how that goes!

But that's still not what I'm gettin' at here....

So I find myself $40,000 in debt.  Finally pulling in "steady" income (it's commission-based, so it's anything but steady).  And driving my 1992 Mazda Protege so intimately dubbed Vivian back and forth to work.

Now let me introduce you to Viv here.  We only go six months back.  I was to leave one Saturday in February for flight training in Kansas.  And I didn't have a car.  I had been searching the papers for awhile...and even visited dealers.  But nothing in my price range (which wasn't much with the debt I was about to take on) was comin' up.  Outside of one car.  But it wasn't a first choice for me.  She drove fine, seemed to be dependable, but it just didn't have the flare I guess I had anticipated.

Long story short, she was my only option.  It came down to the wire.  I test-drove her a couple of times.  Everything seemed fine outside of a non-working driver's-side window.

I bought the car on Friday.  I had put maybe 15 miles on it.  I paid $1500 plus all of the dealer fees.  And the very next day I put the utmost of faith into her as I drove her out to Kansas.

She treated me well.  She is a 1992 Mazda Protege.  Had 108,000 miles when we first met.  Faded teal green color.  Flaky paint all over the hood.  Some rust spots here and there.  But she drove.  And she drove good.

All I needed was five months out of her.  That was my original goal.  If she could just last me through flight training, then I could get rid of her and move on to something else!

Well, that time is here.  She now has 113,639 miles on her.  I've had to replace an oil plug, replace some rear brake pads, and change her oil.  But that's it.  Well, she also spilled her radiator fluid guts all over a gas station one time, but we had a talk about that.  Since then, she's been good to me.

Oh, sure, her CD player used to fall out every time I hit a bump.  I had to drive with my hand over the unit when I crossed railroad tracks or potholes.  Oh, sure, she has a leak in the gas tank somewhere...so that I can't fill her up completely.  Oh, sure, she smells like gas when I get out...obviously from the fumes leaking out.  Oh, sure, she has a funny burnt smell to her when I finally park her.  Oh, sure the A/C doesn't work.  And sure, ol' Viv pours out some smoke from the engine every time I come to a stop.  But she's good, she's true, and she's incredibly dependable.

And she's cheap.  She's paid off.  She gives me a solid 29-30 miles per gallon every time.  And insurance is only $60/month.  So she costs me maybe $100/month to have.

So explain yourself, Mr. Polley, why you started looking for another car!  I was actually just thanking God one day last week for how good that car has been to me.  She lasted me longer than I asked for, and she's still goin'.  What a blessing!

But it was that VERY DAY when I saw an ad in the paper (hmm...which means I was obviously looking!) for another car.  Nine years newer.  Thousands less miles.  I called.  The car was still for sale.  I had literally told myself that I would keep Viv for as long as possible..."drive her into the ground" so to speak...just hours earlier.  And now I had an appointment to see another car!

Poor Viv!

No, it was poor me.  Now, I'm not sure where I land on any of these matters.  I don't mind nice things.  I don't think it wrong to own nice things (depending upon the situation which changes for each person).  But why was it that I was so eager to get rid of a car which has been so good to me?  About an hour after I made arrangements to see the car, I was so cut to my heart that I called back and canceled.

Why was I doing what I was doing?

I'll tell you why.

I find myself often embarassed by her!  I don't even ask for it, either!  It just comes naturally.  Which isn't a good thing.  Like last week, I was being dropped off at church by some people that took me out to eat.  I had left my car behind in the parking lot and rode with a guy.  And now he was dropping me off.  I pointed to my car in the parking lot.  And I felt a sense of embarassment with her.  She's not pretty.  She's not ugly, but she's not pretty.  But she is unmistakenably old and used.

Or the time I was leaving Sunday School.  I had driven over to the house where we meet, and I was gettin' in to drive back.  Hmm...these people would be watching what I was getting into!

Now, to be fair to myself, every time I combat those thoughts.  I really do.  I use the opportunity to sport my approval of my car.  Sometimes just mentally for myself.  I pat her on the dash sometimes.  I talk to her.  I make sure that I DO NOT avoid being seen with her.  That is just too dangerous...that will surely lead to worse thoughts or actions down the road.  I unashamedly walk to her, get in her, and make eye contact with whoever wants it.  It's become a discipline almost.

But it is noticably hard.  And I wonder why!

I'll tell you why.

I live in an amazing neighborhood.  I just went for a walk today.  Some of the smaller houses are in the lower $300,000's.  The nicer ones are quite possibly double that.  Manicured lawns.  Fancy architecture.  Creative landscaping.  Brick is a requirement...even down to the mailbox.  Decorated sidewalks.  Decorated concrete driveways.  Absolute aesthetic beauty everywhere.  Quite an enjoyable walk...just so easy on the eyes!

And every day, in this neighborhood, I am surrounded by...Lexus.  BMW.  Corvette.  New Altima's.  New Silverado's.  New this, new that.  And I live right on a corner.  I park my car out in the driveway.  And I really find it funny.  I think I have the oldest car in the entire neighborhood...by probably 10 years.  (outside of restored muscle-car beauties, of course).  And she sits so proudly outside!  But the tension is in being embarrassed by her!  And again, I really really do fight those thoughts.  It's just the fact that they are there to begin with...it really concerns me.

So what has happened to me over the years to create such a creature within me?  Why am I not absolutely thrilled to death to only pay $1200/year for EVERYTHING including gas?!  Where have I learned that my personality or worth is attached to what I drive?

And perhaps even more frightening...how do I put that on others?

So a friend and I are driving to a restaurant just two nights ago.  I am driving his Lexus...I live with him.  And I pass a beautiful Pontiac Solstice...with an even more beautiful young female driver.  My friend makes a comment.  I'm not even sure what I say, but I can almost guarantee it being altogether shallow.

The female was beautiful.  And I think she looked even more hot driving a hot car.  What have I become?  What am I thinking?!  What if she had been driving a 1994 Honda Accord with rust?  Would I have been as impressed?  Would I have been as in love...er, lust?  I really am frightened with my own thoughts.

What is it that makes a person's heart, spirituality, and demeanor change when they enter a vehicle?  Why does a person suddenly gain more value, more worth, more love?

Why was I impressed with these beautiful half-million dollar houses?  Why did I hope that cute girls would walk out and join me down the street?  Why would I like more for a girl to walk out of one of these houses and join me versus one of the houses in the poorer neighborhoods on the north side of town?  Why have I become so dismally shallow?

If I reverse that on myself...how would I see myself if I carried those same viewpoints?  Every time I step into my car, do I lose my value?  Or my spirituality?  Or my looks?  Or my worth?  Or my ???  Is there a transforming wall that I pass by right next to the driver's side door?  When I step out of my Protege and into a Lexus, do I change who I am?

I have been exposed down to my core.  And I really don't like what I see.  Truth be told, I am a human.  I might concede that these thoughts may be "natural" (not necessarily natural as in what we were meant to be naturally, but natural in terms of it's what everyone does).  And even more than that perhaps, I am an American.  And it scares me to death.

Especially me.  I have seen poverty.  I have seen the other countries.  Shoot, I have seen our own downtowns.  I have been in inner-city Chicago.  St. Louis.  Jackson.  I have been to places where kids play in sewage.  I have met people who live off of $10/day.  And feed a family of five.  I have seen cardboard houses.  I have seen kids that don't eat every meal.  I have lived next to, talked with, and met these people.

And now in my shallow thoughts, I have deserted them.

Am I surprised?  Not really.  I mean, just think of the number of advertisements I see every day.  Buy this, buy that.  Newer this, newer that.  Faster this, faster that.  TV's, billboards, signs, radio, friends, internet.  Garbage in, garbage out.  I mean, seriously, when's the last time you saw a commercial that told you to keep your vehicle?  Or a bank that told you to pay to stop getting loans?  It just won't happen.

So I am left to let it be a battle.  Every day I ride with Viv, I must muster the strength to be proud.  To realize that I save $6 every day versus a monthly car payment.  To realize that she and I are debt-free.  To realize that's it not me who is worse off for driving her...but to realize it's the person next to me in their shiny car who is worse off for thinking that about me when they look over.  (And for you shiny car drivers, I'm not insulting you...I'm glad you have a nice car.  I could very well be driving one in the future.  I know I sure have in the past.  But with that said, I sure wouldn't mind asking you just what you think about me in my car.  Or what you think about yourself because of your car.  I will unabashedly ask that any day.  And I think you should ask that yourself...and answer).

Anyway, that was my day a couple of days ago.  Rest assured, Vivian and I are still together.  No break-ups, no hard feelings.

But I'm still intrigued just by how much I am shaped by others...by society.  I would probably be scared to realize just how deep culture has inserted its claws in my flesh...

You know, I have heard people talk about fasting from food.  From sex.  From video games.  From the stuff that makes us unhealthy, unwise.  But I rarely if ever hear of fasting from what I call the "-er" mentality.  Newer, bigger, faster, brighter, shinier...it's all around us.  Go ahead, just listen for the "er" words tomorrow.  Count 'em.

I wonder what would happen if we fasted from advertisements.

I think I know.

I think we would see ourselves increase in value.