Car Karma

“Varoooom! Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” That’s the sound my ’96 Saturn has made every morning M-F for the past 6 years, since we bought it in ’04.

“Varoo ~ pfft, pfft, pfft, puh 😦 ” That’s the sound it made this morning.

Try again? “varoo? ~ pfft, pfft, pfft, puh 😦 ”

And again? “~ pfft, pfft, pfft, puh 😦 ”

Okay. No problem. Dear Son, recently returned from an early-abort Navy stint (entry level medical discharge, not disabling) is sleeping in his room (he works 2nd shift through Manpower making parts for the Toyota recall — grateful to have found work in Michigan in this economy).

Wake up son, describe Saturn’s sound, and he dresses military-muster speed and is in the driveway with a socket set before I’ve even got my coat off.

Diagnosis? Blown head gasket. Son seizes a “teaching moment” and explains to mom in exquisite detail exactly how he is going to repair this; and he cannot contain his delight, his utter delight, that something on Mom’s car needs his attention.

Okay, so I still have to get to work. But no problem! Husband also works 2nd shift and he says I can take his truck for my 9-to-noon job. (2001 Chevy S10)

Grab his keys and head out to the street behind us, where that vehicle is parked. Unlock the door and loose the latch …

“Salaaap! Sproinnnnng! Chunk.” The door FLIES full open, and a rather large spring ejects itself onto the road.

I pick up the spring, and try to close the door. Nope, won’t budge. Door stands open.

Can you even believe this? What must be the odds?

(Photo is the Saturn, and also Dear Son, taken last summer, on a better day for Car Karma.)

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