| Okay. I'm sure it was one of these . . . |
My Husby and I drive vintage cars.
'Vintage' is a classy name for 'old'.
Just FYI.
Moving on . . .
Wonderful vintage cars.
They are affordable.
Comfortable.
I can sympathize with their creaking
joints and less-than-stellar performance.
And they have real engines.
Or at least engines where the
components are recognizable.
But they do have their drawbacks.
They really are old.
And their parts are equally old.
At times, like me, they get . . .
balky.
Allow me to illustrate . . .
We were driving a Buick.
Station wagon.
It had developed some internal
problems.
Gall bladder, I think.
Or, in car talk, an stubborn solenoid.
While we waited for the funds to
actually fix said solenoid, we were reduced to a two-person starting
method.
One to crawl under the car and whack
the balky part with a hammer and the other to actually turn the key.
It worked.
Sort of.
We were visiting with friends.
It was a warm summer evening.
The sky had been threatening rain all
day.
Sometime during our visit, the threat
became reality.
The sky opened up and dumped everything
it had on us.
At the exact time we decided we should
be heading home.
Sigh.
I took up my position in the driver's
seat, key inserted and ready to turn.
My Husby quickly slipped underneath the
car, hammer in hand.
*Tink*. *Tink*.
“Okay! Try it!”
I turned the key and the engine roared
to live.
My Husby crawled out – remember, it
was pouring rain at this time – and started towards the driver's
door.
He paused.
Someone was laughing.
Loudly.
We both looked toward our friends'
front door.
The two of them were silhouetted in the
light from their front room.
They had watched the whole procedure.
We laughed with them.
Then my Husby shrugged and jumped into
the car and we drove off.
We learned an important lesson from
this.
Always choose your friends with care.
They should be fun.
Generous.
Kind.
Supportive.
Loyal.
And be able to laugh you through your car troubles.
My sister had a standard volkswagen that generally only jump started. My girls pushed her out of the garage. The car went backwards down the hill into the street OK. Then they pushed her up the street until she started and took off for work. Before they went to school. They were about nine and eleven, I think.
ReplyDeleteWell, I guess the good thing is, if we ever do have an apocalyptic solar flare, like the ones that make for good shows on the history channel, your car will be unharmed. No electronics to fry. You just might have the last laugh :).
ReplyDeleteYou painted a wonderful picture and it gave me a good laugh - as most of us have had vintage(old)cars. I can't handle the grief and anxiety any more, so I drive a 7 year old baby (which is today's car years is only 5). They do build them to last longer now and I intend to take full advantage of that. I figure we will both go down together.
ReplyDeleteNot as old as a '47 Ford pickup but just as cantankerous.
ReplyDelete