August 30, 2001

Driving force behind nightmares

By GARRET LEIVA
Herald editor
       Lately, I've been lying awake at night wondering. Thoughts by the thousands race through your head as an expectant parent anticipating the unknown. Despite this lack of present and future sleep, fatherhood is a dream come true.
      However, the minivan night sweats are creeping me out.
      When it comes to being a father, I have no qualms about dirty diapers, 2 a.m. feedings, or colicky crying. Sliding doors and seating for eight is another matter. Just hearing the words "removable third seat" makes my skin crawl.
      Before I proceed with this diatribe let me state that my minivan despise has no basis in fact. It is purely the irrational, emotional rantings of a man whose strongest argument is the uncool factor completely ignored by Consumer Reports rankings. Luckily, my wife doesn't like minivans either.
      Now many a minivan owner - some of whom I still associate with despite their transportation transgressions - try to pound me into submission with words like "practical" and "cargo room." I usually retort back with debate club parry and thrust moves: eye rolling and head shaking. If they mention gas mileage I stick my fingers in my ears and scream "limited slip differential" until they go away.
      My wife's brother-in-law- himself a new father - told me point blank I'd soon join the ranks of the sliding door damned. 'Trust me, you'll get a minivan just to cart around all the stuff," he noted. This shortly after opening his 40th birthday present: a Hot Wheels steering wheel cover for his Dodge Caravan.
      Admittedly, parenthood does come with excess baggage - diaper bags, car seats, playpens and Exersaucers to name a few. Indeed, it seems the smaller the human, the plethora of paraphernalia. However, I highly suspect a chicken or the egg scenario.
      If hauling our baby's belongings requires more cubic inches I have an alternative solution. Think Brady Bunch. Think Eight is Enough. Think station wagon. A vehicle so utterly unhip it's cool - even a Vista Cruiser with faux wood on the doors.
      A station wagon has ample cargo room; even a window for the family dog to hang out her tongue. Safety? Have you ever seen one lose a demolition derby? Of course, there are several new station wagon models available, but they lack one important factor: cubic inches under the hood.
      Besides, an old station wagon would be an investment in the future. When our child becomes a teen-ager and tries to disown me - especially in public places - I can drop them off at school, the mall, even a friend's house. Maybe I'll even do a burnout to boot. Just think of the teen angst fodder I'd supply.
      I'm sure the station wagon wouldn't cause any permanent emotional scaring. After all, my dad dropped me off in a Ford Econoline van and look how I turned out.
      Fortunately for the unborn child, my wife has not bought into the station wagon idea. I can tell by the subtle way she wrinkles up her nose in disgust. Which means the 1957 Chevy 210 model four-door with solid floorboards won't be leaking oil on our driveway anytime soon. That job remains with the old Pontiac inhabiting the garage.
      On second thought, maybe the reason I've had trouble sleeping at night isn't about minivan nightmares. Instead, it has to do with my wife's sleep talking ... something about limited slip differentials and faux wood doors.
      Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or e-mail gleiva@gtherald.com.