Chevy Dreams

(Oh, wonderful, wonderful internet!)

I don't know why I was thinking about this last night, but I spent time before I went to sleep thinking about a kid I knew in elementary school. My grade school experience was unique-- I spent third through fifth grade with the same teacher and the same kids. We were "gifted," apparently. Anyway, I spent three years with this kid, but never really knew much about him other than he really liked Chevrolet.

I mean, really liked Chevrolet.

I've never seen someone so obsessed over a brand of car. His binder would be slathered with Chevy pickups and Chevy muscle cars with a sprinkling of the Chevy logo for a bit of spice. Ford, of course, was the archenemy.

There was only one way to get on this guy's nerves-- present him with a print ad for any Ford motor product and step back to watch the fireworks. Spittle would fly, dotting the brilliantly colored ad and spraying all with a fine mist. His eyes would burn with the feverish desperation of a man fighting for his life. In a strangled voice, he would begin enumerating the numerous faults of Ford and all products associated with the brand. Chevrolet would emerge as the messiah of motorized vehicles, deliverer of the American auto industry. Then he would turn back to his math book as the rest of us slunk away.

I wonder where that kid is now and I wonder how he's handling the current auto market. How can someone so dedicated to a failing American market survive the influx of reliable foreign cars? These days, if I had a choice between a Chevy and a Toyota, it would be Toyota all the way. I don't want to get into the economics of automobiles, but every time I see a commercial for Kias or Subarus or Hondas, I think about my former classmate.

I hope he owns a Chevy, waxes it daily, and kisses it goodnight. That would make me smile.

K.