Cars on the road of life

I do not trust cars much because I grew up driving British ones. In those days, British cars were rather like the British themselves: While they were thought of as being superior, they were not universally noted for doing a great job. The job of a car is to go and frequently they didn't.

It is possible that British cars are better today - all cars are better today - and my friends who own minis are more than satisfied. This does not suspend my own reservations, which came about from seeing British cars frequently broken down beside the road.

My first car was a Hillman. It was sort of a wreck. I often had to push it to get it started, a practice which makes a car lazy. The brakes had a nasty habit of not working when it did start.

Later, I graduated to a Renault. It was of an ugly box-like design - rather odd for a car built by the style-conscious French - but it started and the brakes worked, perhaps as an affront to British cars in the neighborhood.

I never did own a Saab but admired them from afar. They looked like squashed bugs and had a certain panache. But for how much longer? As a Post-Gazette story announced Saturday, General Motors announced that it would close down struggling Saab in the absence of a buyer. Apparently, the world of global business was not big enough to allow squashed bug Swedish cars with eccentric features.

But today brings news of a possible reprieve. A Dutch car maker has submitted a new offer to GM to buy Saab.

This is good but I don't quite know why I care. Perhaps it is because I want to entertain the chance of waving to you at the wheel of a new Saab, while appearing prosperous. A man can dream.

By the way, another thing I dream about is peace on earth and goodwill among men (and women). To that end, you can call me what you like within reason - I am used to it - but no calling anyone in the merry band of Regulators a "jerk." As reluctant as I am to edit out certain comments, I will do it if someone breaks this rule. Fair warning.