So I didn’t even barter, as I often do. I just acted like I was going to drive the SAAB to Saddle Up. I did have Pete go with me around the loop and show me how to turn the lights on and off and give me a lesson in going in reverse.
I set out, it was raining. I turned on the windshield wipers, which weren’t in synch with one another. In fact, the one on the right appeared as though at any minute it was going to break off and fly into the air.
This got me thinking – this is a 1989 Saab. It is 31 years old, the same age as Tinni. He is not losing parts, just losing steam. I could see a door or a car hood or a muffler coming off and my having to retrieve it. Or perhaps one of the wipers on the headlights might take wing.
I remember that my sister once had a yellow bicycle – it may have been named Daisy. In the short time she had it, parts came off – a brake handle here, a pedal there. That bicycle endeared itself to us all the way the SAAB is endearing itself to me.
The Saab is solid – my nickname for it is the same as the nickname for Hrimfara – Tank Girl. If I am in an accident, and I hope to dog that I never am, I would be protected.
The SAAB is going to need work – its snow tires will need winter rims. And it needs a new door. Pete said he could put weather stripping on it, but I am going to insist that a new door be installed.
I know already that I want my next vehicle to be another SAAB. I am going to keep my eye out, and when on the road I meet other SAAB owners, I am going to ask them if they know of any newer models for sale. I know that somewhere, there is an older SAAB with very few miles sitting in someone’s garage This vehicle has my name written in the dust that coats its coverings.
I made it safely to and from Saddle Up arena. This vehicle is me. Odd, my first vehicle, a Chevelle, wasn’t me. And my second vehicle, a Toyota pickup, was. The Suzuki, I can’t say it was me. It just got me here and there.
So, this is the second installment in my SAAB story.
Next: 296. 10/26/20: The First Real Snowfall