The Trunk - Window to the Soul

On Saturday I was cramming things in the trunk of our car after a graduation party.
See, our beloved Suburban is currently resting on blocks, looking sheepish as her underparts are painted. A bit like a dog when you wash around its tail. Hubbykins is certain She'll have her repairs completed by the end of the month. You know, in his Spare Time. Snort.

The building project drags on up here at the lake. It's become a bit more complicated, working around 80 schoolkids who have a tendency to rush blindly in front of the tractor. Seems like every bit of the project needs just a little more work to be completed... some of it will be done in the next week, some of it in the next year. Hopefully. The government money has been pretty much spent, which means the useful members of the work crew are too expensive to keep on, so it's all on the Propery Manager. (slashplumberslashelectricianslashpropanefitterslashdrywallerslashpainterslashchainsawoperatorslashetcetcetc)
(aka Hubbykins)

ANYway, until the 'burban is road-worthy once again, we're driving a ridiculously small and inappropriate car. Inappropriate in that it doesn't know enough to lift up its skirts when we cross the mud. As in it drags its rusty bumper all along our boulder-paved road. Right now there's something wrong with the anti-lock brakes, so when one approaches a stop and applies the brake, the rear passenger wheel suddenly locks up, then lets go, then locks up... accompanied by a highly disconcerting KER THUNK KER THUNK which, judging by the concerned rubbernecking of other motorists, is probably also noisy OUTside the car.
So, I was putting things in the trunk of the car on Saturday, after a graduation party. It seems to be a very small trunk, after having a Suburban all this time. Glorious Suburban who happily swallows up whatever you decide to stow in her hindquarters. I actually had comments from strangers in the Superstore parking lot yesterday: "How are you going to fit all that in THERE?" I replied "Oh, I'll get this in alright, I'm not sure where I'll put the kids though!" It was suggested that I leave the kids behind. That would make the groceries go farther...
ANYway, on Saturday, after the graduation party, I was putting things in the trunk of the car. And it struck me that there was certainly an odd assortment of possessions in there:
potting soil - not in a bag, but spilled in the corner
a giant glass jar with spigot (had been used for the party)
umbrella
two large boxes of assorted craft supplies
a crock pot
empty mixing bowl
guitar (this ended up in the back seat eventually)
church bulletin and assorted photocopied music
plastic case of tools of some sort

Any stranger could've looked in that trunk and realised that the driver of the car is obviously
into gardening
a cook and party guru
a musician
a church-goer
also probably messy (spilled dirt), sharing (the cooking stuff was all empty, after all), likes to be prepared (well, between the four of us we are sometimes prepared), and usually drives a much bigger vehicle.
It got me thinking about the psychology behind the Car Trunk. We toss everything we need, buy, sell, borrow in there, and close it up, and figure no-one will notice stuff. All that stuff reveals what we like, what we do, where we go - who we are.
I picture the hatch of my mom's car in PEI: water bottles (you'll get a headache and be cranky if you're dehydrated), beach towel (in case of stopping at the shore after work), library books, beach glass, sand, blanket, raincoat... these are just the things that are always there, at any given time one may also find snacks, antiques, plants, gardening tools...
Or my car in high school: blanket, candles, the shoes I can't find, jacket, face paints, a crepe hair mustache, window paints, spray paint (hey, I only did graffiti once, and it was to cover up a really ugly tag!), old essays, books...

The thing I really wonder about is people with empty trunks. Empty and clean. What does that mean??
I think if people are dating, or meeting someone new, they should just ask to check out the car trunk. You might think you were dating a perfectly normal guy, then discover a bunch of sci-fi comic books, a shovel, assorted computer parts and a can of spray-cheese in his hatchback. Or you're meeting a nice couple at church, think you've got lots in common with them, but then notice a dog collar, a spider-web bungee cord net, tree-planting spade, milk crate of engine oil, picnic blanket, box of used clothes, empty 30.30 cartridges, bag of ski pants and mittens, bottle of BBQ sauce, 30.30 wrapped up in a Blue Lake jacket...

Well, maybe it's best not to judge a book by its cover. Or a person by their trunk.