It never matters, it seems, what kind of car you have. When Paul and I were dating, years ago, he and his roommayes lived in an apartment in Allston, a lower-rent but not too bad part of Boston. But one street that we parked on, the cars got vandalized all the time. One night when I was just there visiting, they broke the window in my 14-year-old multicolored Maverick, and the window in Paul's roommate's less-than-a-year-old beautiful silver van. Car was a car to them ...