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The dykemobile is in the shop today. It's been developing a transmission
problem for several months now; it seems to jerk suddenly while driving
and lose some revs and a little speed, then it comes back as if nothing
had happened. At first I thought I'd solved it by the replacement of the
driverside front tire a couple months ago, but it started getting worse
again. I finally grew so worried when driving that it just had to go in.
Saturday morning, we took it to CarX, but they actually turned down my
business because they didn't have the equipment to diagnose the problem.
So it's at a Subaru dealer, though not the one I bought it from. I need
to call and find out if they have any news for me.
But in the meantime, I'm driving Tammie's/Momma's Cadillac. It's a big
brown 1987 deVille, and it drives like a WWII aircraft carrier. I keep
expecting people to salute me. Funny, though, that I should feel that
way. The first car I ever owned was a 1978 Chevrolet Impala station
wagon, and it has to have been both longer and wider than this car; I
once had eleven people riding in it, and they weren't even overly
uncomfortable. The two vehicles have quite a bit in common, really:
enormous size and non-existent maneuverability, and non-functional air
conditioning (why yes, it is the hottest day of the year, thank
you very much).
My parents bought the car for me when I went away to college. She was
called Myrtle, partly after Myrtle Beach, SC, and partly after my
great-grandmother, because it seemed like such an old woman of a car. I
was embarrassed to drive her, at first; I mean what's the coolness
factor of a nine-year-old brown station wagon with paint mange, when
you're a college freshman? But after a while, I did come to appreciate
the erotic usefulness of bench seats.
The dealership called a bit ago to tell me that the diagnostic machine
found nothing, and ask if I minded the technician driving my car home
tonight to try to reproduce the problem. I said I had figured that would
be necessary, so go ahead. I have some fear that it will behave just
fine for him, but hopefully he'll notice something.
problem for several months now; it seems to jerk suddenly while driving
and lose some revs and a little speed, then it comes back as if nothing
had happened. At first I thought I'd solved it by the replacement of the
driverside front tire a couple months ago, but it started getting worse
again. I finally grew so worried when driving that it just had to go in.
Saturday morning, we took it to CarX, but they actually turned down my
business because they didn't have the equipment to diagnose the problem.
So it's at a Subaru dealer, though not the one I bought it from. I need
to call and find out if they have any news for me.
But in the meantime, I'm driving Tammie's/Momma's Cadillac. It's a big
brown 1987 deVille, and it drives like a WWII aircraft carrier. I keep
expecting people to salute me. Funny, though, that I should feel that
way. The first car I ever owned was a 1978 Chevrolet Impala station
wagon, and it has to have been both longer and wider than this car; I
once had eleven people riding in it, and they weren't even overly
uncomfortable. The two vehicles have quite a bit in common, really:
enormous size and non-existent maneuverability, and non-functional air
conditioning (why yes, it is the hottest day of the year, thank
you very much).
My parents bought the car for me when I went away to college. She was
called Myrtle, partly after Myrtle Beach, SC, and partly after my
great-grandmother, because it seemed like such an old woman of a car. I
was embarrassed to drive her, at first; I mean what's the coolness
factor of a nine-year-old brown station wagon with paint mange, when
you're a college freshman? But after a while, I did come to appreciate
the erotic usefulness of bench seats.
The dealership called a bit ago to tell me that the diagnostic machine
found nothing, and ask if I minded the technician driving my car home
tonight to try to reproduce the problem. I said I had figured that would
be necessary, so go ahead. I have some fear that it will behave just
fine for him, but hopefully he'll notice something.
