Cars as a Baby Boomers passion

The arrival of the second week in February means the arrival of a national holiday: Presidents Weekend car sales.

I know, I know.

The holiday is really in honor of presidents, but the saturation advertising leading up to the holiday has been all about cars.

It brings to mind the passion we have about cars -- the population in general, but Baby Boomers in particular.

We love cars.

We spend a lot of time in our cars, in part because we have to, in part because we want to.

They become part of our personalities.

We are sometimes prone to naming them, like pets or like children.

Tex the Midnight Rambler was the first car I owned as a student at the University of New Hampshire. It was a Rambler Ambassador with New York plates and an alpha-numeric plate number that began with "TEX".

The first new car I ever owned was a 1976 slant-6 Dodge Dart -- Donnie Dart -- purchased at Portsmouth Dodge (now Port City Chrysler Dodge) on Greenleaf Avenue.

Sometimes we would just rather drive than hassle through pat-downs and bag fees at the airport. The road trip is a beloved American tradition.

We loved the cars we grew up with -- the Chevy Camaro, the Ford Mustang, the Pontiac Firebird, the Dodge Challenger.

We called them "muscle cars" for the muscle they displayed under the hood and for the muscle of a booming American economy built on the manufacture of horsepower encased in steel.

We loved the cars with the bench seats up front and the abandon we showed by having our best girl slide over from the passenger seat and snuggle up right next to us as we cruised the streets. We weren't going anywhere. We didn't need to go anywhere. We just cruised to be seen with our girl ... and our car.

We've given way to seatbelts and airbags and ABS braking systems, but our love for our cars hasn't diminished as our sensibilities for safety, fuel economy, reliability and value have grown.

We still get excited at the introduction of every new model year. We wonder who or what going to capture our attention. A new design. A new gizmo. A new thought that maybe it’s the year to get some new wheels.

Maybe a retro Comaro or Mustang.

Maybe a two-seater convertible.

This love, this passion for cars isn’t part of a mid-life crisis.

We’ve always had this passion for cars. Don’t call it mid-life crisis. Call it a continuing love affair.