I was at home on Saturday watching the Georgia/Georgia Tech game on TV and a car commercial came on. It was a Chevrolet ad about a son who spent five years looking for his father's 1965 Chevy Impala. The son was able to locate it, buy it and give it to his dad who was brought to tears by its presence.
It was a touching commercial highlighting the attachment people sometimes get to their vehicles. Unfortunately for me, and I think my generation, we will never have such feelings for our cars. After the commercial ran, I did a quick mental rundown of all the vehicles that I have owned. I then asked myself, if I could, would I ever want to own anyone of them again? The answer was an very unsentimental, no.
I've owned six cars in my life and while all six served me well and provided special memories, there hasn't been one that I grew an inordinate amount of passion for. I lay blame at the cars of my era. My first car was an 1985 Chevy Caprice, followed by an 1987 Chevy Blazer and then a 1991 Mazda 626. All fine automobiles, but it's safe to say that none would be considered a "classic."
If I had a chance to buy one of these cars back, I would pass. Maybe not enough time has passed since I owned them. Maybe in 20 more years I'd kill to get a chance to get behind the wheel of my old Caprice, kick back on the cloth bench seats and reminisce about what had occurred in the back seat of my youth. But, probably not.
I admit to being curious about my old cars whereabouts though. Did they provide someone else reliable rides? Were they still on the road? Were they chopped up for parts? Were they involved in bad crashes or burned up by the side of the road? That stuff I would like to know, but I really wouldn't want them back.
I was curious if my dad would want his first car back, so I called him.
Me: "Dad, what was your first car?"
Dad: "A ‘66 Buick Regal. It was maroon."
Me: "If I could find that car, buy it and give it to you, would you want it back?
Dad: "No. The door was coming off."
Me: "What if I fixed the door?"
Dad: "No, I still wouldn't want it. It was uncomfortable. It had nothing in it. It was not the car I wanted."
Me: "Why did you buy it then?"
Dad: "My parents made me buy it from my brother."
Me: "Is there any car that you owned that you'd want back?"
Dad: "No."
Maybe it's just an Arum thing.
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