I was watching Andy Rooney tonight where he tracks down his old Lexus. He tracks it through the dealership he sold it to, through a wholesaler, through another dealership, right to the family who bought it's front door. The Lexus is sitting in the driveway.
The actual owner of the car doesn't really speak English, but when Andy asks him if he likes it, he manages an understanding nod.
It never occurred to me that someone out there could be driving my old 1991 Dodge Spirit. Yes, the car with the broken axle, dented fuel tank, bent frame, masticated quarter panel, CD player with no faceplate, and cigarette burns all over the interior. I sold that car in 2001, when it had less than 100 thousand miles on it but I had beaten the shit out of it. That car and I went through a lot together: five years of college, two jobs, five relationships, two car accidents (one was non-contact, so that one probably doesn't count), and countless numbers of speeding tickets.
My car now is almost six years old and has virtually no problems. I replaced the oxygen sensor and had a wire repaired after I had a problem with fuses blowing a couple of years ago. One college class, one job, no car accidents, and less than half the number of speeding tickets as I had in the old car.
However, it certainly has sustained a significant number of relationships.