Yesterday was National Talk Like a Pirate Day and my throat still hurts. I made my way "Arrrghhhhh"-ing and "Aye-aye"-ing through the whole day. I even talked with customers on the telephone in the same gravely voice. Either they also knew it was National Talk Like a Pirate Day or they thought I was British!

Well, I've had my new van of a week and I think we have become friends. I have found just the right position for the seat. The air conditioner seems to reach just the right temperature a little faster and it handles easier and easier. I know it's more a matter of me getting more used to the vehicle but I have always felt cars have individual personalities.

Take my very first car, Harlan, for example. Yes, I name my cars. Harlan was much like I was at age 16; sporty, fast and messy. Oh, and energetic. This car was so energetic it actually jumped. I have been informed by my more mechanically inclined friends that a bad transmission made the car physically jump in place more than some metaphysical soul it might have had.

I still tend to believe Harlan had a personality.

My last van, The Bull, was moody; much like any ailing senior citizen. He performed better with praise. All he needed after 40 miles of driving was a nap; after which he would attack the highway like a geriatric racing for the dining hall on Salisbury Steak Night.

I have yet to name this car. I am waiting to see what personality emerges. I am also pondering "geeking my ride". This 1993 GMC Safari is all while. To my Trek fan mind it suspiciously resembles a shuttle craft. All that is missing is some lettering, hull numbers and a Starfleet logo on the back door.

My son will never want to ride in the same car with me again!