Mom wonders: Why stop at a minivan?
by Beth Teitell

Wednesday, August 22, 2001

You don't hear much about it, but my guess is that the early yuppies, or ``pioneers'' as they were called back then, must have felt some shame over the decision to buy a Conestoga wagon, the minivan of its day.

And yet, like their modern counterparts, they had their reasons.

``Jebediah, how do you expect us to fit nine young'uns, the butter churn, a loom and the oxen yoke in this little buckboard? We need a covered wagon.''

I was thinking about the push West the other day during the weekly spousal minivan discussion. True, we're not trying to cross the Allegheny Mountains, but, well, you know how it is.

Don't get me wrong. I'd rather go on national television and admit to shoplifting from a Salvation Army store than be seen driving a minivan. But with one child at home and a second on the way, the pressure has started to mount from family, friends, even strangers.

I'm not sure what happens to a person when he or she buys a minivan, but after a while the van becomes more than a mode of transportation. It becomes a lifestyle.

``Don't know how we lived without it,'' one Stepford Driver told me, pressing a brochure into my palm.

``You need one,'' he said after watching me awkwardly maneuver my 1-year-old out of our two-door car.

When I relayed the remark to my husband, a strange look crossed his face. ``I can't believe I'm saying this,'' he said, ``but what if we wanted to take both kids and a couple of their friends away for a weekend? Plus luggage.''

(Nevermind why one would want to do this. ``Why'' is not part of the Minivan Discussion.)

Or what if a big storm was menacing the East Coast? Not a ``disorganized'' storm like Chantal, but one that's read and digested the lessons of ``The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Storms,'' and we needed to evacuate and give our whole town a ride, plus have room for the bouncy seat, an Exersaucer and two years' supply of Similac.

We'd need a minivan, right?

Actually, once you think about it, a minivan is not big enough. They can only comfortably handle six to eight passengers.

That's why we're considering an 18-wheeler.

``As long as it doesn't drive like a truck,'' I told my husband.

I called an authorized Mack dealer, McDevitt Trucks Inc. in Avon, and told the sales rep I wanted an 18-wheeler. ``Something pleasant,'' I said.

After informing me there is no ``pleasant truck,'' Rene ``Big Dog'' Barrett asked what I wanted to haul. ``Freight? Dirt?''

``Mothers-in-law,'' I said. ``And a double stroller.''

We talked about my needs - drink holders, swivel captain's chairs, a wide-screen TV for each passenger - and Barrett recommended that for my tractor (or ``horse'' as it's known in the industry), I go with a Mack ``Vision.''

``It's got all the creature comforts,'' he said. ``An air ride, a 10-position seat. It's all leather.''

That sounded nice. If I paired the Vision with a 53-foot-long trailer, he said - and if I managed to get a few laws changed - I could accommodate 20 or 30 passengers. All for about $200 thou.

And the mileage? The Vision gets six miles to a gallon, but hey, it's diesel, and that's cheaper than regular fuel. All I'll need is a ``Cheney for Prez in 2008'' bumper sticker.

The only trick will be finding a parking spot.