I love my car. It’s nothing spectacular, really. I have friends who drive much newer and fancier cars, but I like mine better. It’s a six-year-old blue Subaru Forester, which is, for those who don’t know, somewhere between a small SUV and a station wagon (and for those who just chuckled, yes, I am perfectly OK with driving a vehicle that can be described as “approaching a station wagon”).

I love it because I feel like it suits me better than any other car I have owned. I have a hitch-mount bike rack that I wish I could use more often and a roof rack that will someday carry a kayak. It’s a manual transmission, which I love, and has plenty of room in the back for the transportation of goods. I can even fold down the back seats for more room. One of the best things about my car is that it gets great gas mileage. It’s for these and many other reasons that I think my car and I will have a long and fruitful relationship.

For all of the reasons that I love my car, there are two things that I dislike (I guess no relationship can ever be perfect). First, the cupholders. Worst cupholders I have ever seen. They are the incredibly flimsy kind that fold out of the dashboard, and half of the time they can’t accommodate the jumbo sodas I indulge in from time to time. Horrible. Second, the windshield-washing feature is apparently broken. The windshield wipers work, and I have seen the reservoir for the windshield-washing fluid under the hood, but I have never been able to figure out how to make it squirt onto the windshield. This would have come in handy on many occasions, as bugs tend to accumulate on windshields.

But one morning about a week and a half ago, I made a discovery that made me fall in love with my car all over again.

It was my first official day of work at my new job, and it was raining pretty hard. My windshield wipers were on, and I actually remember being glad that they were getting a chance to clean the windshield. Because it was a special day, I decided to do something a little special on the way to work, so I stopped at Sonic and ordered my favorite drink in the world: a vanilla Dr Pepper. As I pulled under the awning to make my order, I no longer needed the windshield wipers, so I turned them off. My drink arrived soon, and I lamented the wimpy little cupholders one more time as I shifted into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. I went to flip the lever that turns on my windshield wipers, and the most amazing thing happened: windshield wiper fluid came splashing onto my windshield! I quickly glanced down to discover that what I thought was just a lever actually had a button on the end of it. Who knew? Sheer exuberance radiated from deep within my soul and flowed throughout my entire body.

I was so excited I almost didn’t know what to do. The funny thing is that it was raining, and I didn’t need the fluid at all, yet I proceeded to wash my windshield five more times in rapid succession. Had you been able to witness my discovery, you might have thought I found the cure for cancer. I have owned that car for more than a year and spent that entire time thinking that I would never be able to wash my windshield from inside the car. It was almost like finding a $10 bill in your heavy coat when you wear it for the first time in winter. Except that I would equate this more to finding a $50 bill. That’s how excited I was.

I caught myself about five minutes later and thought it was funny how something so simple could bring me so much joy. Perhaps it’s not funny at all, but perfect and wonderful, and exactly the way it should be. Many of the happiest and most enjoyable times in my life have been similar moments. Unexpected and seemingly inconsequential, yet joyous and extraordinarily blissful. Windshield wiper moments make life just a little bit sweeter.

And I can only hope that the next time I have such a moment, it will be a cure-for-the-lousy-cupholder moment.

One Response to “Windsheild wiper moment”

1. Peter Pan Says:
   August 20th, 2008 at 5:24 pm

   i’ve had 2 cars. neither had cup holders. AT ALL. i’d take crappy ones over holding-a-drink-in-your-crotch any day.

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