Turn up the heat

I have just discovered I am rich.

I know, it comes as a shock to me, too. But I have heated car seats and after experiencing their magic on a couple of these very cold days, I realize this is a luxury that crosses over into the land of boat ownership, sports cars, and vacations in Jamaica.

So I’m rich.

I didn’t even know I wanted heated seats, and in truth I never would have paid money to get them. But when I was looking to return to Subaru, I set my brother-in-law on the online hunt for the closest thing to my 1996 Subaru Impreza Outback.

What I ended up with is another Impreza, though it is no longer called an Outback. What is has that my previous Subaru did not have is heated seats.

I first discovered the heated seats when I accidentally turned them on in the summer after loading my car to return to La Crosse from the Twin Cities. I couldn’t figure out where the controls were, expecting them to be on the dashboard. I didn’t discover the button until I got home from an extremely warm 167-mile trip.

I didn’t use the heated seats again until November and, my, what a pleasant surprise.  Especially nice is the heat that hits the small of my back. That’s obviously where all the stress and tension in my body resides and those heated seat backs are fabulous. I turn off all the other heat in the car and just let those warmers work their magic on my back.

So this is the most obvious luxury with which I live. But there are others which lead me to believe I am rich.

Growing up, my sister Therese and I tried to imagine earning $10,000 a year.

I am happy to say I exceeded that.

As kids, planning our dream bedrooms, they were always in a turret. I don’t know where we got this idea as we had never actually been in a turret, but a turret is what we wanted.

I don’t have a turret in my modest home, but I did sleep in a turret room at a bed and breakfast once, so I guess that’s a dream fulfilled, too.

As a kid, I always wanted Oreos and other store-bought cookies because we never could afford them.

I can have all of those I want now and instead I am happier with homemade chocolate chip cookies.

But it’s the heated car seats that really tipped the scales toward luxury because Therese doesn’t have them and now wishes she did.

When she was visiting this week, she insisted we go everywhere in my car because she wanted those heated seats. Usually, she likes us to travel in her van in case happenstance should send a dresser or other large piece of furniture our way. But this time around, heated car seats were more important.

So make way boat owners and visitors to Jamaica, there’s a new rich kid in town — at least until April when I won’t need those heated seats any longer.