…to Get Excited?

Every time I see the Honda ad for their new mini­van, I start scream­ing at the TV, which unnerves my son and makes my hubby do that eye-rolling, Dear-God-She-Should-Have-Come-With-Instructions look.

To the tune of Foghat’s “Slow Ride,” I see pic­ture after glo­ri­ous pic­ture of cus­tom vans, painted on the out­side to rep­re­sent the owner’s inner long­ings, and decked out on the inside to include beds, fire­places, and dance floors, all cov­ered in shag car­pet­ing. After jog­ging my mem­ory of these won­der­fully gaudy Love Shacks on Wheels, they cut to the new Honda mini­van: grey seats, grey inte­rior, grey exte­rior, trav­el­ing on a grey road.

Is this what they think excites me now? Or do they think we 50-somethings have had enough excite­ment and now just need to be sedated? “I used to want a scene of Moses part­ing the Red Sea on my van, but now I just want direc­tions to the AARP office.”

And a mini­van, no less… excuse me, I need to go lie down and mon­i­tor my blood pressure.