When I was sixteen my family blessed me with a Deep Blue 1968 Volvo, in 1985. It was the car that every sixteen year old dreamed of having. Square, Slow and Safe. It built character to say the least. I loved it anyway, what man doesn’t love his first car. My uncle John originally got the car for my sister, but she quickly upgraded after she graduated and passed it down to me. I chose the Volvo over my uncles 1976 Datsun truck because I would have more room to tote my friends around. Yep, no one had to worry about me getting in trouble unknowingly cruising around in the world’s safest birth control mobile. Yeah, I didn’t take a lot of dates out in the ultra blue condom on wheels either and I think the family planned it that way. I miss those hot summer days in the Volvo when the vinyl burned the skin on the back of my thighs. The air conditioner never worked either, but that was only because it didn’t come with one. I ran into an old classmate a few years ago and she told me she thought the Volvo was cool. She was the only girl that said that. Volvo sure has changed over the years. I actually have one now. My wife actually likes it too. So do I, but it will never be as cool my first. If you see one let me know, I’ll pay well for a cheap mid-life crisis.
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Feb 19, 2010
A Volvo Story