What makes the car an object of male obsession will vary depending on who you ask, and, fittingly, you can probably determine a lot about a guy based on the car he owns. We’ll explore some examples of that as we go along, but first let’s take a look at why cars are so important to the modern man.

You could take two approaches here:  The car as an extension of a man’s masculinity or as an object/embodiment of desire.  Let’s have a go at both ways and see which we prefer.

As an extension of masculinity the correlations are obvious; it may compensate for a lack of… something, it embodies a man’s social status, it stands as a testament to his tastes, and it expresses his core values.  If a man drives a Toyota Camry he’s not much of a playboy, but he probably doesn’t sculpt his pubic hair “just so” in an effort to “enhance” his appearance.  He doesn’t put much stock in appearances and he probably doesn’t have much of a sense of humor.  He values reliability, practicality, and modesty.

If he drives a 7 foot tall truck with mud tires and straight-headers (for that world-shaking exhaust note) he’d probably shoot himself in the face if he caught his son watching wrestling videos on you tube with the lights off,  his girlfriend/wife will be the most attractive specimen he can land, but she probably isn’t a beauty,  and he beats his dog when he has had a bad day at work, he can’t get an erection, or whenever his masculinity is called into question.  His values are Jesus, Mary, and the holy-fucking-ghost.  Oh and he loves AC/DC.

This approach has its strong points, but it isn’t altogether accurate.  In cases of guys that drive lifted trucks it’s certainly a good starting point.  There isn’t any desire in 30” tires, unless it’s the desire for a bigger penis.  But what about the British Racing Green XKR Jag, the debadged M5, and the classic 911?  These seem to belong to our other category, the embodiment of desire.

When a guy tells you about his childhood dream-car chances are he’s not sporting a semi.  No doubt, sex and cars are not separate entities altogether and male sexuality can be seen in a sports car’s feminine lines and contours, but there’s more than superficial lust in the glassy-eyed face of a man transported by the memory of his dad’s ’76 porsche.

The car holds a distinct place in the Western Man’s ethos.  It’s been romanticized to the point of absurdity and examples are not in short supply.  From a 16 year old boy’s civic hatchback with a loosely attached body kit that doesn’t match the original color to a 70 year old man’s 20 foot Cadillac which inevitably kills several small children and their mother on the way home from bingo night the car plays a part in every step of the male life cycle.  It stands for freedom, success, independence, and love.

The love a man has for his car is both paternal and romantic.  Truly, all man’s variations on love can be observed in his love of cars.  Or, more to the point, the love of his car.  Especially if that car isn’t very pretty, none of the gauges work, it’s missing (often important) bits of the interior, it breaks down or runs according to its own whimsical nature, and girls think it’s terrible.  Despite it all, a man will love a shitty car like a beaten puppy will love his redneck master.  Only because, perhaps, it’s his.  He has a loyalty born of mutual hardships overcome together, no, as one, even.  And that’s not just the mark of a good car, but perhaps a good man as well.

Perhaps we’ve diverged from desire somewhat, though.  Let’s get back on track.

Of the possessions a man can own, none has more personal value than the car.  It acts as a conduit to every aspect of his life.  From cruising the parks for fags in the bushes to taking the kids to soccer practice it applies to the whole spectrum of Maledom.  It’s the study in which he contemplates fantasy football or Nietzsche’s eternal reoccurrence of the same.  It’s where he lost his virginity to his 16 year old girlfriend in the volvo station wagon his parents gave him for his birthday. Its the first place he got stoned with his pals just prior to getting hopelessly lost in a safeway parking lot.

We define the stages of our lives through jobs, girlfriends, and of course, our cars.  Selling or scrapping a car is like deleting an ex from your myspace.  Whether you do it with anger or sorrow you feel like your life has changed forever.

A new car has it’s honeymoon phase, where you notice the things that don’t work, the panels that done line up quite right, noises that aren’t quite proper and will eventually drive you nuts (the analogy here is people that eat loudly… it was really vague, so let me just say, if you eat loudly I want to FUCKING KILL YOU and so does anyone with a soul) but none of them get to you now, because you’ve got the aim of your desire and it might not be perfect, but its yours all the same.

…I’m running out of analogies at this point…

A car is like a guinea pig because… er, hang on…

A car is like not wearing a condom with your girlfriend because…

… it’s better than a bicycle and you’re pretty sure you won’t get AIDs?

Alright… I think we’ve covered it.  A man without a car is not a man at all.

[I had intended to take this a bit further (thus the abrupt and lame conclusion), but really all I was trying to say is I’m making a car my first priority in life.  Out of love!  Well, and, I’m sick of walking everywhere.]