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?This is Meg. Meg is our car.? This statement appeared on a Twitter feed near to me, accompanied by a photograph of a five-year-old Ford Focus. Meg is very clean and takes pride of place in their driveway. Meg, it is clear, is as much a part of the family as the dog or a difficult child. To be fair to Meg and her family, I personally have a bit of an issue with assigning gender and human attributes to machinery. My late Mother-in-Law (who was, against type, a very nice woman) insisted on calling her car “Lulu” on the basis that the licence plate kind of looked a bit like that.
Crushes & Complexities
There?s nothing new about this: Hark back to earlier days to hear British car enthusiasts ? usually men wearing cravats ? referring to their classic car as “her” or even “the old girl,” a sobriquet otherwise used solely as a replacement for “the wife.” Fortunately, this practice has been driven out of use by the complex assignment of gender these days. My own car, which I bought new for cash, is going on six-years-old (note that I refuse to use the word “birthday”). At best, it gets called “the Citroen,” otherwise it is “the car.” I have no plans to change it because it does all that I require and does it well, not because I love it like a brother. It seems to me that we use the internet as an alternative universe. We can do and say thi...