I drove this car to the supermarket the other day and, for the umpteenth time, fell in love with it. It’s an absolutely marvelous car.
It’s driven almost exclusively by my lovely wife and then only three evenings a week to the gym. Otherwise, it just sits in its own carport, enjoying retirement.
It’s called a Chevy Pop, short for Popular. Ours is a 2000 model.
Eight months after moving below the Rio Bravo, I bought this fresh, little baby at the dealership in the state capital. It was either the Pop or a Volkswagen Bug, which were still available new in this country at that time.
I paid about $8,000 for the Pop. Something similar was sold in the United States many years ago as a Geo Metro.
The Pop uses virtually no gasoline. Since it is over 10 years old, there is no tax. We only pay a “plate fee” of $30 a year. We just buy liability insurance, and that’s $130.
This little car is agile and zippy. You can park it anywhere. The hatchback opens and the backseat folds down, and you can easily tote tons of whatever.
It’s hard to spot in the photo, but there’s a metal luggage rack on top, which I added. Anything you cannot fit into the rear goes on top. This thing has the heart of a moving van plus the head and leg room of a Peterbilt cab.
Oddly, when my child bride and I met in 2002, she also had a 2000 Chevy Pop. The only difference was that hers was silver, had a sound system and an annoying alarm that would erupt without warning.
We sold that silver and kept this blue.
In 2004, we drove the Pop all the way to Atlanta, Georgia, and back. We did it in March because it has no air-conditioning. It has no sound system either.
The Pop is still sold today. In addition to the hatchback, there is a four-door model, plus a little pickup truck, and now they come with air-conditioning.
I dearly love my Pop, which is quite a contrast to our 2009 Honda CR-V, which pisses me off every day and which I enormously regret purchasing.
We paid a whale of a lot more for the Honda than for the Pop.
Oh, the irony. And where’s the justice?