The Sheer Wonder and Meaning Found In a Tesla Ride

Last Saturday, I strolled over to the St. Stephen's Farmers Market. I never buy anything. I eat all my meals out, but it's usually a good venue to walk around and spot nice-looking, nubile women buying something at the fruit stand. This gives me the opportunity to walk up to them, scour the top half of their feminine form, and then say something clever: "Wow, what nice melons!" If they give me "the look," I can always feign indignation. "I was referring to the cantaloupes over there. Geez!"

While examining "cantaloupes," I ran into my buddy, Ames Russell. Ames is happily married to Carrie. She's a babe, so unlike me, Ames actually goes to the farmers' market to buy fresh food. Ames is the founder and owner of AR's Hot Southern Honey. You can find it in your local grocery store. If not, ask for it. It will make you happy; word is, it has aphrodisiacal qualities, which I think explains why Ames has a hot wife. But I digress.

Ames showed me a picture of his new car and said, "Let me take you for a ride." Ames is one of the best marketing guys I know, so naturally his new Tesla looked like Richard Petty's No. 43, with various decals marketing his honey—the "Sweet Heat of the South."

Ames got in the driver's seat and simply told the car to go to the Publix on Three Chopt Road. Then he ordered it to go to Pleasant's Hardware on Patterson Avenue. When a car was blocking half the road on Three Chopt with its flashers on, the Honey Mobile simply went around it without so much as a moment's hesitation. The only thing it didn't do was ask if we'd like fries with each order. Give it six months.

At Pleasant's, it knew where to park. That parking lot is tricky because one can't see whether there are any empty spaces close to the store. I always park in the first space I see, but the Honey Mobile seemed to know there was an open space close to the store.

During our drive, Ames had a legal pad out and was working some sort of calculations, not looking at the road. I think he was trying to figure out how many bottles of honey he'd need to sell in order to buy Elon out of Tesla. The car had a giant TV screen that tracked our movements and where we were going. I assume that on a long trip one can watch movies, real-time news, a YouTube video, or FaceTime one's favorite "honey."

Then it hit me: This sensation I was feeling was sheer wonder. Certainly, wonder at the genius of Tesla, but mostly wonder at the genius of America.

While driving, I couldn't help thinking about being a kid and watching The Jetsons and wondering if I would live long enough to see the technology that George, Jane, Mr. Spacely and the gang were accustomed to using. How clearly I remember, as an 8-year-old, my brother Fat Wally talking about what life might be like in the 21st century. It seemed a million years away, but the hope and excitement for what the future held were glorious.

We Americans are very lucky. My days at the University of Virginia were mostly spent in drunken idleness. When I exerted myself, it usually had something to do with property destruction, sophomoric games (putt-putt, spud, making stupid bets, playing tricks on friends), and, of course, the omnipresent and venerable tradition of skirt chasing.

However, I have a foggy memory of a class where the professor spoke of the Turner Thesis. If I remember correctly, it dealt with a uniquely American state of mind. Against all odds, we won a revolution against the mightiest military power on Earth. We conquered a continent. We started in the East, building houses, churches, businesses, and industry, and we moved west. Even though westward expansion is long over, the spirit of enterprise that fueled that expansion remains and is the defining characteristic of being an American. We can do anything.

When I was a boy, it was never a question of whether certain technologies and inventions would come into existence; it was simply, "When?" And, of course, there was never any doubt that it would be Americans inventing everything and making the Jetsons a reality. I never once thought, "I wonder if those fellas in Somalia will ever create a flying car?"

What other countries have this mindset? Dear Reader, you might think this spirit of enterprise is universal, but it's not. I'm reminded of Thomas Hobbes' musings on man's life being "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." That's the despondent nature of most countries when there is no hope for the future.

I'd like to see the old U.S. of A. keep rolling and kicking ass. Every great empire falls, and it is almost always from within. Covetousness and jealousy are the kryptonite to a Superman political and economic structure. Self-driving cars are a result of rich people risking their capital to build a better world. Everybody's life is enriched and made easier when successful people risk their capital to build new things. However, great societal wealth and ease of life breed complacency among those who live off the laurels of others. The purple-haired cows keying Teslas at No Kings marches are there for one reason. They HATE you. Affected with a Hobbesian view of their lives, they lash out at the successful. For various reasons—my theory being the Nannyism created by government indulgence—they never develop that burning glow to go out and conquer the world. It's your fault that they suck and have no hope, much less appreciation for being the luckiest group of humans to ever live on this planet. They didn't have anything to do with their good luck, and ironically, they hate the types of people who created the living standards they enjoy.

I look forward to George's flying cars and Rosie the Robot bringing me my slippers and a nice Churchill cigar at night, but we aren't going to get there by handing out wheelbarrows of tax money for every perceived social ill, thereby denuding the spirit of enterprise among those who can do for themselves. We are not going to get there by hating folks who own $5 million-plus pieds-à-terre in New York City. History teaches us that jealousy of others is the fiery fuel of leftist ideology, and we'd best take this threat seriously.

So while concerned, I'm still hopeful. If we can create self-driving cars, we can create a way to stop the commies. I'm so hopeful that I bet soon, we'll see Ames "buzzing" by 200 feet above us in his fusion-powered mechanical bumblebee.