My Dad, was a die hard Chevy guy. This was the one and only brand of pick up that he would ever be caught driving. There was no way that a Ford could ever out perform his Chevy Pick up or even come close to it in gas mileage, performance, and straight up beauty. We were taught to extol these details at the slightest urging.
My Dad's brother, a love em forever Ford man, and father to my cousin, did not agree with him. They would happily get together and compare notes, discussing for hours which vehicle was better. The cousin, Turf toter, and I, would have many disagreements over which was better.
"Found on Road DEAD!, fix or repair daily". We would chant all these slogans to the cousin. She would counter attack with her own version of "Chevy, Chevy, rhymes with "ditty ditty", and I can't print it here.
This went on forever, with Dad telling us stories of the Uncle's repeated truck failures, sadly shaking his head over the foolishness of repurchasing a inferior brand.
Until one day, my Dad bought a new truck. It was a Ford! He sounded a little bashful on the phone when he told us, "what about the rivalry?" Isn't the Uncle going to crow?
"No", replied Dad, " He bought a Chevy."