Escalade Dreams

Escalade Dreams

I’m intrigued by certain correlations. Sometimes I’m struck by bits of information and try to fit them together like pieces of a puzzle. The human puzzle, I guess you could (pretentiously) say.

One of these bits is the obsession with the Cadillac Escalade.

Heck, I probably shouldn’t care. There’s better things to think about. Better things to waste hours typing about. Better things to do. But I can’t get it off my mind. Like pouring saline down the cakehole, maybe this can purge it. But there’s a risk. Will this be nothing more than a psycho-spiritual, self-indulgent act of auto-eroticism? I’m willing to chance it. Let’s see.

I’ve known a couple of guys obsessed with the Cadillac Escalade.

The one guy’s said, “If I ever win the lottery, the first thing I’m going to buy is a brand new Cadillac Escalade.”

There’s another guy who’s asked, “What’s your dream car?”

“I don’t have one,” I said.

“No. Really. Don’t try to be cool. What’s your dream car?”

I thought.

“No. Really. I don’t think I have one.”

I could tell he thought I was being smug or coy or cavalier. As if, because he had a dream car, then everybody else, necessarily, did too.

“Well, mine’s a Cadillac Escalade.”

This, ironically, came from a professed Buddhist. A disciple of The Buddha who teaches, “The root of suffering is attachment.”

It seems ironic? Hypocritical? What’s the word? Whatever it is, it seems weird to have such an attachment to a material object while professing to be a Buddhist. But I’m not a Buddhist, so what do I know? That’s usually the way these discussions go.

“You’re not a (fill in the blank). You’ve not studied it. You’ve not practiced it, so you don’t know.”

Fair enough. It’s bound to be far more complicated than I’ll ever understand, so I leave it be. There’s nuance in anything complex. Nothing’s perfect. Idealism’s never achieved in practical execution. Etc.

Besides, it can be uncouth or insulting, even dangerous, to challenge what a person believes about himself, so I’ve learned to not challenge. Want to get on a person’s bad side? Want to make an enemy for life? Don’t steal from them. Don’t fuck their spouse. Don’t spit in their face or piss on their doorstep. Rather, show them they’re not what they believe themselves to be. It’s the worst form of slander imaginable. Want someone to despise you till he dies? Then tell him more of the truth than he wants to hear.

Anyway, even now, I don’t think I have a dream car.

I don’t have a dream car in the same way I don’t have a dream refrigerator.

Who cares about the brand? Frigidaire. GE. Kenmore. KitchenAid. LG. Maytag. Samsung, Whirlpool.

Who cares, so long as it’s a good value? So long as it was purchased at a reasonable price, and it does what it’s supposed to do.

Who cares how it looks?

There’s a couple of common threads between these guys obsessed with the Cadillac Escalade: 1) they are guys of meager means and low social status 2) they are guys excessively concerned with appearance and what appearances mean.

Guys overly concerned with other men’s hairstyles, for example. What a hairstyle “says” about the man.

Men jealous of the appearance of the handsome, young men on college campuses. Confident, clean-cut young men going places. Doing things. Hence, who are attractive to the attractive young women going places and doing things, as well. Young men and women both trying to make something of themselves. Committing to their future successes. Confident and committed enough to try to become what they envision themselves to be.

Men, too, obsessed with certain conformities because, within conformity, there is an easy understanding of who and what a person is. Conformities to class and race and gender. Conformity to the broader culture or subcultures. Either way, there must be enough conformity to understand, without must first-hand knowledge, what another person is. Conformity equals easy translation. The pesky non-conformist is like a film with subtitles. To understand the narrative, it requires the cognitive ability and effort to watch, listen and read. Some things will be lost, for certain, in this juggling act. But, to fully comprehend the theme and narrative of a great foreign film, it is the effort we must endure, regardless of the annoyance to the convenience of only needing to watch and listen.

There are common threads between these keenly judgmental men. But there are differences too. One is college educated and from an upper-middle class background. The other, poorly educated and from a low to lower-middle class upbringing.

I met the former for a movie and lunch one day. I was running a bit late. I grabbed a pair of my work khakis and threw them on because they were right there and, even though I’d worn them the night before, they were still clean and not very wrinkled.

I arrived in khakis instead of jeans. So the first thing this guy asked was, “So what’s going on with those pants? You plan on finding a woman today?”

I said, “No. They’re my work pants. I wore these because they’re clean.”

There was no motive behind my appearance. I wasn’t out to impress a woman or even him, in his lowly blue jeans.

To some, if not many, I suppose, it’s intuited that there’s always a motive behind appearance.

I think I get it, now.

To these sorts of people, something like the Cadillac Escalade is a statement about them.

A statement for financially, emotionally, and/or psychologically insecure men about how they hope to be perceived.

The Cadillac Escalade is a statement. A Rolex timepiece is a statement. A thoroughly unnecessary and impractical $120,000 sky rise pickup truck is a statement.

They announce to the world, “This is what I got. This is what I can afford. I am stable. I am secure.” And if the world reflects enough of that sentiment back, then it is so, especially when a healthy of dose of confirmation bias lends its eager hand.

It is a statement of stability. A statement of security, often and ironically, masking an underbelly of financial, emotional and/or psychological insecurity.

The Escalade can be a security blanket, of sorts. A shield against the world judging the wounded as complete losers. It’s that sort of DEFINATE statement.

“I won’t be perceived as a loser if I drive a car worth more than most people’s annual income.”

Yet, the Cadillac Escalade is something these guys can never afford, unless by schemes, dumb luck, or inherited wealth.

From the outside, the motivating force appears to be an unwillingness or insecurity in accepting themselves for what they are.

A wish to show the world they are something other than what the rest of their appearances will show.

Perhaps it is only for the preservation of piece of mind.

Perhaps there would be security in stepping into a new Cadillac Escalade and wholeheartedly believing, “I’m a success”, then believing the world sees them in the same light. Convincing their fragile egos that, in fact, this is how the world must see me – as a success – because, for certain, that is the way I interpret the Cadillac Escalade.

Beliefs and convictions are important. There is comfort and security in beliefs and conviction. There is little security within the unknown.

To be fair, maybe the reasoning is: I want a new Cadillac Escalade because, to afford one, I’ll have achieved (by means other than luck or guile) financial success. The dream/goal is to someday reach that level of financial success. To finally have attained the stability that comes along with that degree of financial prosperity. And the Cadillac Escalade is tangible proof the goal’s been achieved.

On the flip side, what about the people who can afford the Escalade and purchase one because they can? It makes perfect sense that a CEO or head of a law firm would drive an Escalade instead of a Hyundai. They are, after all, representations of the success of those ventures.

But what about the others? The suburban, upper-middle or upper class soccer moms? How much of that comes down to conformity to the social norms of class? How much of that is merely a display – an announcement – of social standing? Counter to popular opinion, it may have less to do with pride and vanity than peer pressure and conformity. Looking down the streets of a gaited community and feeling the immense pressure to keep up with the Joneses.

Sure. Some people just like fine, luxurious things. Fair enough. No moral judgment there. I buy Oreos instead of Kaleidos or Great Value Twist and Shouts. I don’t wear the cheapest socks. I buy Adidas or Puma, so I’ve got no moral high ground to take.

And, to ease my conscience, let’s make something perfectly clear: these are not moral judgments about the Cadillac Escalade and its owners or those who wish to own. This is only an enquiry into the psychology of desiring one.

I dunno. I’m a romantic, I guess, cause I can’t help but feel that success is something you feel, not something displayed, either to yourself or others.

Success and achievement feel like things to cherish within. That seems to be the greatest reward of success. The rewards of success and achievement as stabilizing forces of character. Stabilizing forces for the psyche, allowing one to believe, by proof, “I can succeed. I can achieve.” The greatest reward is the strength given to one’s self-confidence.

Again, to be fair, maybe these guys see the Cadillac Escalade as a motivating force for success. Unfortunately, the evidence for motivation seems sparse.

Perhaps a better goal would be: Get a job. Exercise discipline. And ask, “What is this carrot that I dangle before me? What is it doing? What does it achieve?”

No, I don’t have a dream car. I believe that to be true, in the same way I don’t have a dream refrigerator. And, yes, the difference is well understood.

An understanding of that difference like the understanding of my pants.

I do not have a dream brand of pants. Or handbag. Or watch. Or whatever.

Kurt Vonnegut wrote, “Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

I interpret this, in part, as: Do something. Create, even if the creation is bad. Do something. Do anything, because anything is better than nothing.

Dreaming isn’t doing. Dreaming isn’t anything.

It’s a callous act to stomp on another person’s dreams.

But dreams can also be the realms where we spend our lives hiding from the world.