My automotive tale of woe. . .

I've been spending a lot of time worrying about my car. Worrying that it might be time to get a new one, even though I love the one I have. It's a classic little silver sports car, vintage 1999, and Lexus doesn't make this model any more. My grandson's been patiently waiting for me to give it up and hand it over to him, but for the most part it looks great and runs perfectly.

At least until recently.

A few weeks ago the airconditioning in the car developed a strange whistle. My regular garage was digging up their gas tanks and inaccessible, so I stopped by another local mechanic to have him diagnose the situation. He informed me I would have to leave the car and he would have to remove the engine or some such to determine my terrible problem. I saw big dollar signs and decided I could live with a little whistle.

A week or so later, I noticed my regular station had reopened and I drove in to ask their opinion because the whistling was starting to drive me nuts. Angel, the owner, was not available, but an older gentelman who seemed to be Angel's father, asked me my problem. He looked under the hood for a second, sniffed, and slammed down the hood as I anxiously looked on. He then climbed into the car, leaned over to the passenger seat, and flipped open the air vent. The whistle stopped. My jaw dropped open. More than a little embarassed, but extremely relieved, I thanked him profusely and drove away.

This morning being Tuesday, I made my usual 7:30 am drive to WLRN to read on air to the visually impaired. Two hours later when I strolled out to the parking lot to get my car, it wouldn't start. The battery seemed to be ok but the starter was making a weird sound and the steering wheel was locked up. Frantic, I did what any technically challened woman would do. . I called Benard, my significant other, and started to cry. Calmness personified, he suggested I call AAA and in the meantime I should try rocking the car back and forth to dislodge it from its locked position.

Did I mention I am 4' 11" and it had been raining so the car was soaking wet, and by this time it was 90 degrees out, but I gamely tried by bracing my back against the chain link fence in front of my car, standing on one foot and placing the other on the bumper. I know this will come as a big surprize, but the car didn't budge..

In between pushing, I kept trying to call AAA. By this time I was not a happy camper and in retrospect was not handling the situation with my usual aplomb. Actually I was close to hysteria because every time I tried to dial on my fancy new phone, the virtual keyboard kept disappearing. Finally, I got through to AAA and an automated voice told me to press #1 if I needed help. You're damned right I need help, I muttered, but the keyboard was gone again and no #1 was in sight. By my umpteenth attempt to complete the dial, I was hyperventilating and screamed at the operator when she sweetly told me they were having a busy day because of the rain and to expect someone in about an hour.

At that point my knight in shining armor, aka Benard, showed up, and together we rocked the car into submission. Me in the front, he in the back. It must have been a pretty funny sight, but it worked ! When the wheel unlocked and the starter turned over, I once again believed in God.

My car is at the garage as we speak. . Angel says I just need a new battery, there's nothing wrong with the starter. Big deal! Give me the best one you've got. I saved a bundle on the air conditioning whistle, didn't I? I feel like I'm ahead of the game. Sorry Adam, looks like you will have to wait a little longer for the car.
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Photo caption: Home again, safe & and sound!