There was a time when “buy American” was more than a choice, it was the
choice, for American hands designed, made, and manufactured the best and
greatest merchandise in the world. We were the country that manufactured most
of the world’s cars, and close to 100% of them sold here were made here. Let’s
test your automotive geography and see. Ford meant Dearborn, Studebaker meant
South Bend, Oldsmobile meant Lansing, Buick meant Flint, Jeep meant Toledo,
Rambler meant Kenosha, and Detroit was home to everyone else from Chevrolet to
Chrysler, Hamtrammck meant Dodge and Cadillac was The Standard of the World.
Industrial named towns, where workers toiled and built American products. A far
cry from the Imports that we grew up with. Weird cars, poorly designed, and
driven by college professor types who smoked pipes and wore funny hats and
goatees. Who were more interested in conservative cars than their liberal
ideas. Cars built in places like Sindelfingen, Gothenburg, Trollhatten,
Wolfsburg, and ones we could relate to such as Abingdon, Coventry, or Lingotto.
They had names like Mercedes Benz, Volvo, SAAB, Volkswagen, and FIAT. Small,
tiny, uncomfortable, they were the opposite of our appetite, which was longer,
lower, wider, V-8 powered, and covered in an excess of chrome. We were America,
we were Americans, and we led the world, and the world followed. And that was
the way it should be.
But soon cars started coming from places named Tokyo, Hamamatsu, and
Yokohama. Cars we wouldn’t be seen in on a bet, with dubious quality. Remember
the fading black bumpers on Japanese cars that faded to black with or without
washing? German rubber disintegrating while watching? English cars that leaked,
German cars that weeped, and yeah, now you remember. But today, where “buy
American” has a label attached to it, are what you are buying really American
made? Or even an American car? Honda has three plants in The US of A. Toyotas
are built in Indiana. BMW’s are made in Spartanburg, South Carolina, and
Mercedes Benz in Tuscaloosa. Still confused, Mazdas are made in Flat Rock,
Michigan, Nissan in Tennessee and Mississippi. Hyundai in Alabama, and VW were
once made in Pennsylvania. Still confused, how about once proud American
nameplates? Chevrolet, built in South Korea, GTO’s built in Australia, Ford and
GM trucks still built in the States, but with only 60-70% US made parts. Want a
Camaro, built in Canada. And for a car to considered an American built car, it
only has to have 50% American made parts, so what are you driving? Buy
American, has really turned into bye America. When Nissan and Toyota both sell
US made trucks, and Ford builds cars in Mexico, GM trucks in Mexico-please tell
me it isn’t so? What has happened to the famed nameplates we grew up with?
Will we soon call them South American trucks, Canadian cars, or world cars, as
many refer to them now. Design them in China, make them in Hanoi, and import
them to America-all under a Chevrolet name? See the USA in your Chevrolet?-it
went overseas, and never came back the same. Maybe we should have seen it
coming when Mercedes Benz were sold through Studebaker, or when Ford was offered
the VW plant from Germany as war reparations and said no, what was it good for,
and then in 1949 two VW’s were imported. But today buying American is becoming
a foreign concept. So what are we to think about our own heritage? Born in
Texas, raised in Jersey, moved to California? But am I still an American? Born
in the US of A and proud of it. But what of hyphenated Americans? What of
hyphenated anything? What are they really?
Some years back a woman of Persian descent asked me what nationality I
was? I said American, and she asked what kind of American? Just an American,
what could be added to the best to make it better? But no, she meant where was
my heritage, again America, going back over 150 years. But she wanted to go
back further, and kept pressing. And I wanted to quit answering...I am an
American-not a hyphenated hybrid anything. Born and raised. But she kept
pressing, and it became time to end the interrogation. So I told her, “you
really could say I am a heaven-American, for my heritage and family are based on
Jesus Christ. I am a Christian, and my final home, my only home will be
heaven.” And she got up and left. She asked, I answered, and told her the
truth. My name is written in the census in heaven. I am here but for a short
time, the Bible calls us sojourners. Travellers. Which maybe explains my love
of being on the road. And the road feeling more like home with each trip. As
Christians we are truly foreigners here, our citizenship is in heaven, and Jesus
has the papers to prove it. The Book of Life. I am not a hyphenated anything.
And unlike a car with an MSO, Manufacturer’s Statement of Origin, I have an
Master’s Statement of Origin, telling me God came to earth in the form of a man,
then returned to heaven. My birth certificate may state Texas, but my born
again certificate states heaven. And heaven is where I will spend eternity.
Much easier to explain than where was your American car built? Or buying
American built in Mexico. And so we find the gospel is simple so I can get it.
Next time you buy a part for your Chevy, and it says made in China, or for your
Mercedes Benz and its states Japan, think about it. But even more important,
think of where parts for you come from? Where were you created? By whom? And
all signs will point you to heaven. Just like Jesus does. A choice you make,
and if you want to eliminate hell, choose heaven. Hell exists for the angels
who fell, and wouldn’t have a place for people if they didn’t choose it. Think
about that one-hell is a choice, just like heaven is.
Someday it will be bye, America, and hello eternity. I am going to heaven,
how about you? Jesus came to save you from hell,will you let him? If the name
sounds foreign to you, I encourage you to meet him. Be guilty by association
with him, knowing him personally. As we look back to Fords from Dearborn,
Chevies from Detroit, and Buicks from Flint, let us not become orphans like many
car brands. Studebaker from South Bend, Olds from Flint, Plymouth from Detroit,
and Rambler from Kenosha. All proud names at one time, now only found in
history. Where you will be found is up to you. Jesus knocks, what will your
answer be? All my parts are 100% heavenly...if you are what you drive, where
you go will tell us what you are. Only Christians make it to heaven. Everyone
else is a foreigner. Maybe that is why God will welcome us home some day. And
for us, that place over the rainbow will be heavenly. Truly there is no place
like home, when we call it heaven, and heaven calls us.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com