by Frances Potts
Over lunch the other day, we women were puzzling over the immaturity of the men who need their toys. You know, the ones who think a garage is empty unless it has at least three cars parked in it and a pair of ATVs and a boat alongside.
It's a guy thing, we agreed, something to which a woman just can't relate.
I held that smug attitude until I started flipping through the Jeep Gear brochure that showed up in my mail.
Although I never expect to take my Jeep Liberty Sport off road, the "Ultimate Tailgate Kit" struck me as being extremely practical. It comes with a canopy that can stand alone or attach to my vehicle, a table with built-in cooler and two folding chairs that feature insulated cup holders and bottle openers. There's even a remote-control light for my after-dark picnics.
The rochure says this kit is what Jeep enthusiasts imagine when they think "luxury suite." I wholeheartedly agree, if you throw in the fleece, roll-up blanket on page 13.
Next came an irresistible wheeled duffel stylishly marked WITH the Jeep logo! And can you believe a canvas CD case, a Trail Tracker journal with pen and a dome tent complete with two hanging cup holders and two Jeep organizer pockets? I mean, is this Paradise or what?
And I wasn't even halfway through the brochure.
The Jeep radio flashlight with pop-up safety flasher and a stainless steel explorer watch that's water resistant to 165 feet had me drooling. But when I began to think it would take a second Jeep to hold all this good stuff, I yelled, "Whoa, Momma!", andtossed the brochure acreoss the room.
I may never truly understand the intriguing pathways of the male mind, but I think I came dangerously close.
And it was just a tad scary.
. Frances Potts is a retired journalist who worked for several newspapers in Washington state.