  When in my Ranchero,  it's hard not to feel like a celebrity.  In fact,  while in the Ranchero,  it is hard not to feel a number of things.  A short list of inspired feelings includes,
 but is not restricted to:  - feelings of David Lee Roth- like power;  - feeling that,
 with a six pack,  anything is possible;  - feeling that the world changed,  for the worse,  on December 31st,
 1982;  - feeling that,  given the chance,  a Ranchero driver would never permit a white tiger to bite his head like Roy Horn ( of Siegfried &
 Roy)  and would soundly whoop the ass of any tiger,  white or otherwise,  attempting such bitch- ass behaviour;  -
adopt Alfred E.  Newman's laissez- faire attitude of 'What,  me worry? ' I'd like to see the list of feelings conjured up while driving a Civic:  -
feeling that living in the basement of mom and dad's place is okay;  - feeling that Ground FX,  decals,  and noise of modified Civic adequately replace awesomeness,  speed,
 and ability to haul loads in the bed of a Ranchero cruck;  - feeling that,  in a Civic,  one could skip 4th period math and not get caught.  -
feeling that,  given the chance,  a Civic driver would never permit Odie to steal his Lasagna like Garfield does,  time and again,  with humorous results;  -
adopt Randy Newman's attitude that 'Short people got no reason to live'.  My point is this:  today a pan- handling deaf- mute walked up to me while I was putting a parking receipt in my window,  pointed at the Ranchero,
 then gave the thumbs up.  I nodded.  He then produced a note explaining that he was a deaf- mute looking for money.  I shook my head.  Finally,
 he pointed at the Ranchero,  then at himself,  then made a motion like he was driving.  Even though he used proper ten- and- two steering technique in his mime,
 I shook my head.  The power of the Ranchero to bring people together and bridge language barriers may be exactly what the Middle East needs right now.
