When it comes to cars I have always appreciated performance and superfluous extras.  Growing up we only had one car, an unairconditioned station wagon with paint ladders on the top.  But being able to look backwards from the rear of the car and wave at other people was so much fun.  My little one could not believe I did not have a car seat growing up.  I didn’t tell her I used to straddle the console between my folks up front or that I could stand, lie down or ride on Daddy’s paint cans pretending to play the drums.  Car seats?  I didn’t have a seat belt!  It was the ’70’s after all.  I may not have thought much for safety as a kid but I certainly think about it as an adult for my child.  My husband and I are trying not to be helicopter parents, constantly hovering over our little girl.  I have been hit hard twice in the last two years in accidents that were not my fault.  The first was by an uninsured motorist (T-boned) and the last (rear-ended) by an illegal who fled the country the very next day.  In both cases I had my little girl with me.  I am so grateful to God she has been OK!  And I am thankful to have been in cars built well enough to absorb a lot of the shock.  It’s not like the old days when cars were tanks.  That’s a huge part of why I do not want a bubble car; one is too vulnerable in a big city full of hostile, distracted drivers.  OK and yes, it lacks a turbo engine and ambient lighting.  Anyway, the last two cars I have had were black and I have decided switching to silver might be a proverbial fresh start.  Silly, I know.  American actress Alexandra Paul once said, “The cars we drive say a lot about us.”  In my case, I’m taking back the Edge.