Description of my Volvo:
So far it's been a fairly high maintenance vehicle.  It's a 1983 Metallic Maroon 240 Series GL Volvo Wagon, and has the B23F engine.  I bought it abused in Vancouver, Washington, and it surprisingly doesn't have "much" rust, especially for an 83  4pd + od, original tan interior with black leather installed to replace the old torn seats, and a whole bunch of minor cosmetic and mechanical changes, to make it reliable and fun.

The Car Philosophy:
My car philosophy can't really always be explained.  Maybe this isn't the time or place to get sappy:
But for a long time I've had this strange thing about cars.  When I was little, perhaps because the car was so bad-ass off road: we had this little hard top Suzuki Samurai.  My dad bought it after we spent about two weeks bombing around Rwanda when I was 6.  He loved the strange Japanese car there, so when the Suzuki hit the US market, he instantly bought one (and I think it was $5,000 in the mid eighties).
Well, once day the car died.  My stepmother, just learning how to drive stick (I had taught her at the age of 12 --knowing how to drive stick before I knew how to drive--), was tailgating someone and when the person slammed on the brakes, she skidded out, hit the car from behind, and though the front of the car was fine, the whole roof had compacted inwards, totaling the car (it was not built for safety).  But I loved that car, and me and my brother cried and cried.

 So cars hold this strange and sacred place in my heart.  I loved an old land cruiser that I used to own, I loved that old Suzuki, I used to love those old V8 Jeep Wagoneers and Cherokees my dad had in the 80s.
And so today, I love my Volvo.  It's the first real "car" that I've owned and gotten to like (I've had 6 four-wheel drives, and had a Subaru Wagon once, which was great, but I never would have put the effort I've put into my Volvo).  And I don't know what will happen.  Deep down I have this desire to find two or three old 245s and snatch them up from the junk yard, throw them in the woods or in storage for 20 years, and in 20 years, re-live the dream and the legacy as I live it today.

The car is great.  I have a million different versions of how I know her and how I image her.  Sometimes it's a her, sometimes it's a him.  Sometimes she's slow, other times she's fast.  Usually I love her, and even sometimes I hate her.  But all in all, she turns into an adventure every time, and I have this weird thing where close to every time I drive her, I not only have a good time, but a great time.