So I Married a Car Gay
Finding love amidst faulty fuel pumps
“Here we go again,” I thought, as our car petered out on I-70, en route to Vail. This was followed, minutes later, by various forms of “I’m never doing this again,” at an escalating volume.
After months of planning, and a day’s worth of fine-tuning his Mercedes-Benz 380SL in a garage outside of Denver, we were supposed to be driving in The Vail Concours, a three-day road rally in the Colorado mountains surrounding the Bavarian-style ski town. We were supposed to be driving to Steamboat Springs for a picnic among fellow car enthusiasts — many of whom, like us, embarked from far and wide to be here. Instead, I found myself stranded on the side of a highway, bemoaning the pratfalls of faulty fuel pumps, as my husband and I awaited a tow truck to drive us back to Denver and start anew.
Though frustrating in the moment, I’ve come to learn that these mishaps are precisely that: mere momentary blips on a larger, grander journey — sharing in something special with my best friend, while carving out space in a heteronormative world. This incident in Vail wasn’t the first, nor will it be the last. It happened when our car broke down on a remote Utah highway while driving the Hagerty Silver Summit. Heck, it happened yesterday, as we drove to lunch along Route 66, resulting in me holding up the scorching-hot exhaust pipe that was dragging on the pavement. These moments, I’ve found, are part and parcel of being married to a car gay.
As much as we share in common, there are just as many facets of travel that differentiate us. Notably, it’s that Nathan is a car guy. And not just any car guy, but a dedicated savant from a young age, fantasizing about the day he’d finally be able to get behind the wheel. Our garage is like a revolving carousel of vintage cars, and our shelves are stocked with collectible toy cars. On any given day, I find myself asking, “Have I been in this car before?” To which Nathan replies, “Yes, many times.”
He owns his own classic car company in Oklahoma City, Vintage Motors. Meanwhile, I’ve been to his shop so sparsely that I only recently learned that he has just one garage.
He’s owned hundreds of cars in his life, whether for his own personal use, or to sell to collectors. I, after being proudly carless in Chicago for 13 years, have technically owned one — and it was, much to Nathan’s chagrin, a 2020 Ford Fusion.
“…regardless of the broken alternators or smashed windshields, these are experiences I’ve come to treasure.”
In many ways, we’re a classic Lady and the Tramp story: two divergent-yet-destined lovers, from wildly dissimilar backgrounds, and dramatically juxtaposed interests that vary from Disney World (Nathan had never been, while I was an Annual Passholder) to Frank Lloyd Wright (Nathan has taken me to several property tours across the country, while I apathetically oblige). Nothing embodies our differences more than cars, though — and I think it’s beautiful.
Since meeting Nathan, I’ve visited car museums across the globe, from the Alfa Romeo Museum in Milan to the Pierce-Arrow Museum in Buffalo. I’ve embarked on numerous car tours with our friends, from Bryce Canyon to the Ozarks, and regardless of the broken alternators or smashed windshields, these are experiences I’ve come to treasure.
Unless you count Mario Kart, I’ll never be a car guy myself. Rather, I’ll be the guy who goes to the National Automobile Museum in Reno, which, according to my husband, is one of the foremost car museums in the U.S., and only fawn over the Jurassic Park Explorer. On car trips, I’m inherently more interested in restaurants along the way. And I’ll never stop trying to convince Nathan that A Goofy Movie is a car movie.
What I especially admire about Nathan, and his passion for cars, is the culture and community that he’s built and fostered with it. It’s the friends I’ve met along the way, and the memories we’ve made at every pit stop, even if said pit stop entails a tow truck. More than anything, it’s the bravery he exudes just existing in that heteronormative space — one where I assumed I was never welcome. Just as we exist everywhere, queer people have every type of interest, beyond the constraints of stereotypes and societal acceptance.
This week, I’m joining him on the Silver Summit again, and regardless what happens, I’m so excited to be there. Nathan has shown me that there’s room for me on the road, too, and no matter what happens to our fuel pump, I couldn’t be prouder to be along for the ride.
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