For reasons of late development, I did. Having kicked off my driving career in 1984 with a £250 Morris Marina (gorgeous in sun-faded red), worked my way through a Triumph Herald 13/60 convertible (written off by a moonlighting Chinese chauffeur in a Cadillac), made do with a one-litre VW Polo (lean, early 90s recession years) and then completed the century with a Saab 1995 900S, I finally got my new Saab 9/3 in 2001 and still drive it every day.
So it's with a heavy heart - but not too much surprise - that I hear today that Saab is heading for the scrapheap of history. I knew that my version was just a re-skinned Vauxhall Cavalier but that didn't matter. Right from the ignition key sitting between the front seats to those weird ads showing Swedish fighter jets, Saabs were a bit different. The problem they had was being quite sure what exactly that 'difference' entailed. As a brand it was always a bit of a mystery, lacking any of the certitudes of BMW or Audi. It's never bothered me, as the thought of being pigeon-holed by my wheels was pretty unattractive.
Now with more offspring on the way I'm being forced to rethink the family's car situation. And none too attractive the options look, either. I'm currently trying to kid myself that an ageing 7 series BMW would accommodate two baby seats nicely in the back. My wife is having none of it. There are limits to what a man can take. And, if you ever see me driving around at the helm of a Vauxhall Zafira, you have my permission to shoot me.
In today's bulletin:
Northern Rock starts lending again as banks feel the heat
Mandelson gives LDV row the swerve
Ryanair's check-in desks checking out
Were our big banks run by psychopaths?
Editor's blog: Sadness as Saab reaches the end of road
