At first glance, it may appear that Vern's Volvo is the assortment of parts lying in a heap in the back of Grace's automobile shop. The parts did originally come from Vern's Volvo, and together would make up the remnants of Vern's old car. However, after contemplating the ownership of Vern's vehicle, my mind wandered to a popular country song by Miranda Lampert. It was playing on my Pandora country station as I reread the blog question to myself. I realized quickly that the song, "House that Built Me" was surprisingly relevant to the topic of ownership. Vern's Volvo is similar to Miranda Lampert's old house, and also my own previous home.
I recently drove past my old house, and realized that the new owners of the house changed the color of MY vibrant red door to a plain black color. They also changed the color of the roof, and the design on the siding. I was angry and even upset that the new homeowners would have the nerve to change MY red door, MY siding, and MY roof. It wasn't until the discussion of ownership in class that I realized I had no reason to angry anymore. Although it is upsetting to admit, my old house is no longer my home. My home is where I live, eat, study, cry, laugh, and (occasionally) sleep. However, this label will obviously change as my life continues and will be altered based on my location and internal mindset. I still hold an emotional attachment to my previous home, but my relationship to my old house has changed. The house on Indian River road, went from "is my home" to "was my home". The change of verb tenses is the key to both those phrases and holds the distinction of past and present. My old house now exists in my memory in the same manner as it did while I was growing up. I still remember opening that red door everyday for 10 years, but now the red door's purpose has changed. The same object, now painted black, will hold a different set of memories for an entirely different child. Not only has my red door helped answer the question about Vern's Volvo, it also has provided me some closure to the sadness I felt when seeing my old home for the first time since I lived there.
Vern's Volvo is very similar to my red door. Although the parts in Grace's garage previously belonged to Vern, their purpose has changed. Vern traded parts of his car for new parts to ensure that his car remained functional. Vern might have some nostalgia for the cracked rear view mirror that Vern hit while teaching his first born son to drive, however, the cracked mirror serves only a purpose when paired with a memory. Without the memory to go along with the part, the cracked mirror is only a piece of glass attached to plastic. Vern's car remains the one that he is driving because although the old parts may hold his memories, they will never again create the same meaning that they once had while Vern drove the car. Vern's current automobile is not only a specific object, it is also is the label that he places on his new Volvo. It "is" his car. His car is not the one lying in pieces in the back on Grace's shop. Those pieces "were" Vern's car, but the ownership of Vern's car remains in the car that serves Vern at the present moment. The emotional attachments to the pieces of his old car remain strong, however the actual parts to his Volvo are no longer his. If Grace decides to remake the car using Vern's old parts then the parts will have a new purpose, and will be looked at entirely differently by the person who drives the reassembled car. The fixed mirror will no longer hold the memory of Vern's son breaking it. The new driver will associate new memories to the same piece of glass and plastic. When deciding the ownership of Vern's vehicle it is important to separate the memories associated the parts of Vern's old car and the actual parts of Vern's old car. The memories will always remain his, however the actual parts of the car are no longer in his possession. The beauty of tangible objects is that one item can represent thousands of things, and can hold meaning that is different for each individual. One reason why humans tend to love tangible objects is not merely because of the actual existence of the object- I do not love all red doors. My attachment remains tied to the memory of my childhood and not to the small tangible part of my house. The door of the house is no longer mine. In the same fashion, the pieces of Vern's Volvo are no longer his, but the memory of what occurred in Vern's old car will remain. The car that is rightfully Vern's is the one that he drives around currently, not the pile of parts in the back of Graces garage.
