Smooth Legs and Gasoline

My very first car was a blue 1987 Pontiac Firefly. It only had four gears and three cylinders; every time I climbed a hill I'd lean forward and hold my breath. Taking it over 80km/hour on the freeway satisfied my teenaged urge for an adrenalin rush.

We lived in a huge home in a prestigious area and I parked my Firefly on the side of the road in front of our house. Other drivers hated coming around the corner and near-missing my little blue wonder and so it was no shock to any of us that one balmy summer night, we were awakened by the sound of banging on our front door.

It was just the three of us in the house at that time. My parents were sleeping in the room across the hall from me while I slept soundly in my double bed beside my beloved orange cat, Harley. I was startled awake by the combination of banging on the front door and flashing lights assaulting me through my bedroom window. I jumped up and burst into my parents' room to wake them up.

My dad, leaving his false teeth soaking in the cup in the bathroom and wearing nothing but his tighty whities and a too-tight t-shirt, busted out of bed to see what was going on. He stormed down the stairs and whipped the front door open to greet the group of firemen who were asking if a "Susan Hutchins lives here."

Sitting on the stairs with zit cream on my face, I was too embarrassed to come to the door so my dad, toothless and half naked, exchanged some information with the firemen. Apparently someone had tipped my car over onto its side and my gas tank emptied into the middle of road. We got it all worked out and my dad retreated up the stairs to his bedroom only to realize his too-tight t-shirt was a souvenir from a Deana Carter concert which read, "Did I Shave My Legs For This?" We didn't laugh about it that night but we've made up for it many times since. It's a classic story that goes down in Hutchins' history.

Sometimes we come up with these grandiose plans of how we believe our lives will unfold, you know? And we prepare ourselves for the Good Life: money, success, beauty, prestige, smooth legs. But then sometimes life just happens and we're left standing there, vulnerable and unprotected, wondering who tipped us over when we weren't looking. And it's in those moments where true character shines through and differentiates between the people who stay tipped over and the ones who get right back up. I'm glad that I am surrounded by the people who get right back up. My dad didn't teach me fashion sense, but he taught me tenacity, and that type of thing can't be bought at a concert.