Given the tremendous amount of time I've spent at the mechanic's this past week, I thought a car story would be in order. For those who are wondering, there are problems with my rad, thermostat, muffler, flex hose, catalytic converter, motor mounts, steering pump and oh yes we mustn't forget... my head gasket. Jim got the car running again, after three new rads (At their expense, not mine. Thank goodness.) and he tells me the car could last two weeks or two years, there's no way to tell. I guess I'll just drive it into the ground ha ha. I only paid $2500 for it and I've gotten 3 years & 3 months so far, so I can't really complain.
But Dad can complain. Oh my can he ever complain. Way back in '87 Dad bought an 86' Caprice Classic Brougham with only 8000 km on it. It was a dealership runabout car so it was in very good condition. It weighed in at 3528 lbs. and was painted Battleship Grey. That's right, it was the M1 Abrams of luxury sedans. A veritable tank.
And I drove it like one.
We call the undeveloped area south of the city, "The Country" even though it's not true wilderness. It's mostly farmland and dirt roads though, so it feels like the country. I was out with the car, in "The Country" and I got to one of those roads that becomes impassable during wet weather. I figured I had nothing to fear. It hadn't rained in at least a week and I was driving a tank. No problem.
I got about 50 meters in before I realized I wasn't going to make it. Sighing, I put the Caprice in reverse and started churning dirt. Of course, the car was riding lower on the way back, thanks to the deep tire treads and the cars tremendous weight. So I scraped up quite a bit of mud and shrubbery into the undercarriage. I got out successfully and drove away, happy that I'd avoided a potential disaster.
Since Mom and Dad were leaving for Florida in a few days, I thought it best to make sure I put the car through a really thorough car wash before going home. The car was spic and span and Dad was happy that I'd been thoughtful enough to wash it for their trip.
After they arrived in Florida, I got a phone call. It was Dad. The Caprice had apparently started leaking transmission fluid so they'd stopped at a mechanic. While the car was up on the hoist, the mechanic came back and said the famous words, "Excuse me sir, there's a tree in your car." Apparently I had run over a sapling while backing out of the mess on that country road, and it had gotten caught in the undercarriage. The tree was removed, the transmission lines were repaired and everything was fine.
Dad however, was livid. I learned my lesson.
Actually a few years ago my cousin and I were driving his father's car out in the country and... I'm sure you can guess what happened.
Yeah, we took it to the car wash before bringing it home. This time, I checked for trees.
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