I have felt this way for years. Up until about 7 years ago I had always driven Chevys. My first car was a Camaro. Well, it wasn’t really mine — it was my Dad’s. But I drove it until my brother turned 16. I wrecked it the first day I got my driver’s license. My brother tore it apart because he desired a new engine. I think it sat in my Dad’s garage like a hunk of junk for a couple years without a motor. My poor Dad.
My 2nd car was a Chevy Berretta — teal green. The steering console burned up one day and almost caught on fire.
My 3rd car was a Geo Prism (made by Chevrolet) — white. It drove like it had the engine of a scooter in it. It was uncomfortable. I hated that car.
My 4th car was a Chevy Cavalier — gold. This one was actually fine. I had it for about 4 years I think.
My 5th car was Rich’s old Jeep Cherokee — gold. The driver side door fell off. Yep. Rusted right through the hinges.
My 6th car was a Toyota Celica — bright blue. We still have that car. It still runs like a dream. It’s 7 years old and has 100,000+ miles on it. It’s a fabulous little car.
My 7th car was actually Rich’s first, then mine — a Volvo S40 — midnight blue. I loved that car almost more than the Celica. We had to sell it when we bought the mini-van.
My 8th car is a Dodge Caravan — white. In less than 3 years the brakes have failed. All 4 of them. Piece of junk.
So Rich is on a quest for a new car. He is leaning strongly for another Volvo. I agree. They’re safe and they’re luxury and they perform well. He’s going for the S60 this time. It’s bigger.
Now I, too, am on a quest for a new mini-van. Toyota? Honda? Not sure. But I can tell you right now with 100% certainty it will not be an American made vehicle. Never. Again.