By Patricia Lee Sharpe
Here's my auto-biography: Volkswagon, Volvo, Fiat, Toyota, Subaru, Jeep, Honda.
Yup! With one exception, whenever I've needed a new car, I've checked out the American array and then gone foreign.
1. The VW bug was cheap to buy and cheap to run, perfect for a couple fresh out of graduate school. Meanwhile, Detroit was specializing in tail fins and other non-functional absurdities.
2. The Volvo was made to be safe for kids and it probably saved my life, once. The American car industry, meanwhile, was resisting safety standards. That was the era of Unsafe at Any Speed, back when Raph Nader was a hero, not a spoiler.
3. The Fiat was cheap and roomy, when divorce made me poor again. The American competition lacked knee room and trunk space. Tweetie---since it was canary yellow, my kids came up with this name---was sold, after an adventurous life, in Medan, Indonesia.
4. A Singapore Toyota dealer delivered a nifty little Corolla to Colombo, Sri Lanka, precisely on schedule and at no cost to me. It was a very popular model, so I sold it easily for what it cost and could have got much more. As usual---sigh!---I was a good girl and didn't try to evade the rule that said foreign service officers can't profit on auto resales.
5. The four-wheel drive Subaru station wagon was nicely priced and it was also a perfect safari car in East Africa. It loved mud and ran so quietly the lions and herds of impala hardly noticed it. It got badly banged up in crazy Lagos traffic, so I sold it (and its memories) there. A German diplomat I knew in Nigeria was surprised that his American counterparts weren't forced to drive American models. It was embarrassing, but I had to confess that, even then, American auto makers were letting thoughtful drivers down. Hence, my Japanese car.
6. The Honda Civic Hybrid I bought two years ago, for obvious reasons. The mileage is terrific. It's like driving for free.
The only American car I ever bought, my Jeep Cherokee, was a stripped down, stick shift model I acquired so I could drive from Freetown, Sierra Leone, to Timbuktu. Unfortunately there were too many wars in the way. After two years its mileage was only 13,000. So I took to Pakistan, where it languished because conditions there were already extremely unsafe. So I took it to Kolkata, India, where it didn't rack up miles because the roads were so bad I couldn't drive far in a day. So it came with me to Santa Fe, where it got smashed up by a stop sign-running idiot.
Obviously, I'm not the only American with a car-buying bio like this. As long as I can remember Detroit has begged for special treatment and has been coddled by a short-sighted Congress, even as foreign car makers were opening plants in the U.S. and, year by year, decade by decade, drawing away customers.
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