I know a lot of people who have affectionately named their cars over the years. My grandmother named every car she owned. The ones I specifically recall were an old gray pickup named "Old Gray Lady," and a full-sized van named "Traveler."
My first car was a bright blue Volkswagen Beetle, and I called it "Zippy." I intended to name my next car, but nothing inspired me, and after a while I forgot about it and just stuck with "my car." How boring.
When you face the facts that the relationship with [insert car's name] is no longer a positive one, does your research process for a new vehicle constitute as emotional cheating? And does it become a full-on affair when you first take the new beauty for a test drive?
Then there comes a time when you reason with yourself and remember that it is an inanimate object, after all. A box of metal and plastic on four wheels.
How cold.
Camera: Canon 40D with 60mm macro lens and 430EX Speedlite, 1/125s, f/2.8 at ISO 800
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