Cruise-mobiles

I don’t have a car in New York.  My usual experience now comes by renting a car by the hour from a service called Zip Car.  As good as the service is, and it’s convenient and flexible, I never get the feeling when renting a zip-car that I did when I used to live here and drove my own.  Of all my driving experiences in New York, the fondest driving ones happened when I was driving the “bomb”.
 
The “bomb” was the ultimate cruise-mobile, train car, and overall piece of junk on wheels.  One of the most obvious aspects of the car was in its ugliness.  It wasn’t a car anyone would admit to wanting.  From the exterior, white and baby poop yellow, to the interior with its vinyl seats and vinyl floor coverings (no carpets in this car to be found), and on to the dash, everything was designed to be functional. 
 
Beyond that was the cars top speed, just under sixty miles an hour, appetite for only one type of oil (Castor, 50W), and willingness to balk if you violated either of these points (valves would easily decide to float).  In short, the car was temperamental, big, and ugly; very ugly. 
 
Yet there was one thing incredibly unique.  It was safe.  Lots of sheet metal and the combination of size, beauty (not), and sheer presence resulted in the fear of those without.  No car ever got near it (fear of getting hit).  Nobody ever attempted to steel it (why).  You were safe in this car.  You could enjoy the road, even New York city’s, in this car.  You could simply cruise in this car.
 
I’m more like the Bomb than I am different.  Fortunately I have the opportunity to travel on God’s road, because “there will be a highway called the Holy Road.  No one rude or rebellious is permitted on this road.  It's for God's people exclusively—impossible to get lost on this road.  Not even fools can get lost on it.”  (Isaiah 35.8)  It is a great experience, even with my ride.