Two wise, NPR fellows named Click and Clack have said for years, decades even, that it is better to spend $2,500 to fix a car than to give up on it, sell it, and buy a new one.
After much soul searching (and verifying of my bank account), I have come to believe they are right. And so, my beloved Sam is going in today for a procedure which will, the car gods willing, give him more energy and prolong his life.
It's major: a new engine. But I have a skilled mechanic to do the work, and I trust his steady hands. Me and Sam are only hoping that the third time is the charm. We've chosen a Japanese model, donated by a generous Subaru Forester in that far-away land of technological geniuses, and have been told Sam will be up and running in a week or two tops.
It gladdens my heart. I had grown to love Sam. In our short time together, we had already had many adventures, and I hated the thought of giving up on him.
In the meantime, we are working on a refund from an engine company which shall remain unnamed for now. Let's just say they sold us a lemon. And if we don't get the refund, I will reveal who to boycott.
The journey starts today. Sam only has to make it two more hours on his quickly failing ticker, and then he will be as good as new come mid-April showers. We'll be out kayaking together in no time...
Disclaimer: This post has nothing to do with Lent. I've just had requests to please bring back the car saga. I am not sure if the people make these requests because they care -- or because they get a good laugh out of my mechanical misery. I suppose either option is fine. I love 'em regardless ;).
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