I live in a car town - Indianapolis, home of the Indy 500, the Brickyard 400 (or whatever stupid corporate name they have for it now), and the U.S. Grand Prix. My father worked for General Motors for over 30 years. My husband and son love cars. I know cars. And I can understand that, for some people, a car is a work of art or a source of enjoyment. The status symbol thing, though, I just don’t get.

For me, a car is basically a tool I use to get me, my family and my stuff from Point A to Point B. It needs to be functional, safe, and fuel-efficient. That’s really all I need from a vehicle. There are a few cars I think are very cool: I’ve always been a sucker for a Mercedes coupe, and James Bond’s Aston-Martins were fine. Those kinds of cars are way beyond our budget, though, and they wouldn’t do me much good for taking my kids to school or getting groceries.

What bugs me are these people who buy completely impractical vehicles pretty much for the “look at me” value. The other day at the grocery, I parked a couple spots down from an H2. My husband was with me, and he had a grand time watching the driver try to park the gigantic thing. Three tries, and it was still completely crooked. I made him a bet that the driver was either a short guy or a woman. Sure enough, it was a woman. After taking all that time to park, you’d think she’d be in a hurry to get inside. Nope. She took her sweet time getting out, checking her hair in the side mirror, so everyone around could see her with her great big gas-guzzling tribute to man’s ability to create useless vehicles.

H2s are probably the dumbest ideas on the roads. A military Humvee is an awesome thing, perfectly suited to the rugged terrains in which it works and to the tough jobs it must perform. Why on earth would you need a scaled-down version to go buy bananas and milk at a Meijer in the ‘burbs?

The next day, same parking lot (I forgot to buy bread). This time it’s a guy on a crotch rocket. Now, I love motorcycles. My uncle took me on a Harley when I was about 10, and I never forgot it. But these little things are just glorified mopeds with louder engines. I’ve had several guy friends who’ve bought them, and they all had one thing in common - a need for attention. This guy in the parking lot was standing next to his bike from the time I went in to the time I came out. He might’ve been waiting for someone, but he was talking to several different people as he stood there, looking like he was about ready to get on and drive off. But he didn’t. He just stayed there, messing with the seat and mirrors, glancing all around at anyone and everyone. He was still there when I left.

Now that gas costs almost as much as my mortgage payment, I just can’t understand why people want to spend all that money on a vehicle that serves very little purpose. If you really love a certain kind of car, I suppose you can justify it to yourself. But those people should buy the cars they admire, not the cars they want me to admire. Gas-guzzling SUVs, noisy motorcycles, and fiberglass sports cars don’t turn me green with envy.

Give me the guy in the gray hybrid coupe. Practicality. Now that’s sexy.