I Like My GM Truck... But Sometimes It Feels Like We're in a Long-Term Argument

 

I've always been a GM guy. There, I said it.

I've owned them, driven them, worked on them, defended them, and even recommended them. There's just something about a GM vehicle that feels familiar. The styling, the ride, the comfort—it all checks a lot of boxes for me.

But lately, owning one feels a little like being friends with someone who keeps making questionable life decisions.

Now before anyone gets fired up, I'm not saying I hate my vehicle. Quite the opposite. I like it. The problem is that I seem to like it more than it likes me.

Every thousand miles, I'm popping the hood and adding another quart of oil. Not because I forgot to tighten something. Not because there's a giant puddle in the driveway. Nope. It just likes to drink oil.

When I asked about it, I was told it was "within GM standards."

Within standards?

That's kind of like telling someone their dog only steals food occasionally and that's within dog standards.

I guess I should be grateful it's not asking for premium oil and a steak dinner every time.

The thing that really gets me is how modern vehicles seem loaded with electronics, sensors, modules, computers, warning lights, notifications, and enough technology to launch a small satellite. Meanwhile, the old trucks that seemed to last forever had about three wires, a radio, and a dashboard light that only came on when something was already catastrophically wrong.

It feels like every year vehicles get smarter while somehow becoming more complicated and expensive to keep alive.

Then there are the fuel-saving systems that shut down cylinders while you're driving. On paper it sounds fantastic. Save fuel. Reduce emissions. Make everyone happy.

In reality, many owners have spent years debating whether constantly switching cylinders on and off is helping engines live longer or creating extra wear. All I know is when I hear "advanced technology," I immediately wonder how much it's going to cost me when it decides to retire early.

Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I miss the days when an engine's primary job was simply being an engine.

Of course, government regulations keep getting stricter, manufacturers keep adding more systems, and engineers are constantly trying to squeeze every last drop of efficiency out of everything. I understand why it happens.

But sometimes I wonder if we've crossed the line where durability took a back seat to compliance charts and fuel economy targets.

The funny thing is, despite all my complaints, I'm still driving the thing.

Why?

Because not everyone can just run out and buy a brand-new vehicle whenever they feel like it.

A new truck payment these days can look suspiciously similar to a mortgage payment. Every time I see what new vehicles cost, I suddenly become a lot more forgiving of adding a quart of oil.

Sure, it's annoying.

Sure, I grumble about it.

Sure, I occasionally stare at the dipstick and wonder what exactly we're doing here.

But when the month ends and there isn't a giant vehicle payment coming out of my bank account, I find myself smiling a little.

There's a certain freedom in owning something outright, even if it occasionally has a thirst for oil.

So for now, my GM and I will continue our relationship.

I'll keep adding oil.

It'll keep testing my patience.

And we'll both pretend this is completely normal.

At least until the next quart.

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