You know how some people regret getting rid of their High School cars? I’ve never had that regret.
It was a late autumn day at the end of October 1995 when I had saved up enough money, from working a 4 1/2 hour job everyday after school, for a down payment on a car that I could call my own. My 1978 Plymouth Volare, my truly first car, had served me well, but let’s face it, it’s probably not the kind of vehicle a teenage kid wants to drive to school. It was time to shop around for something new.
I found a 1988 Chevrolet Camaro at a small car dealership in Owatonna. It had a V8, T-Tops, and was in fantastic condition. After plopping down $4000, my Mom and Dad gave me a sweet loan to cover the remaining cost so I could avoid paying interest. In under a year, I had that loan paid off…well, not exactly. Call it superstition, but I figured it would be just my luck to crash it or to have something bad happen to it once I finally had the car paid off. So my Mom let me keep 50 cents of the loan amount unpaid.
You’re looking at me posing with my car in my High School graduation robe in June 1996, again as an established adult in October 2015, and from October 19, 2025 as a solid middle-aged man. It’ll be the 30 year anniversary this coming week of having this car along on the journey through 2/3rds of my life. She’s been a faithful companion for nearly 80,000 miles of driving through twisty county roads, scenic north shore drives, gravel shortcuts, and even a snowstorm or two in the early days.
While it may seem silly to dedicate a social media post to my car, it’s really more about how cool it can be to take good care of something, and have it take good care of you.
What I still can’t figure out is how my car can age better than I do!