Fare Thee Well, First Car

I am so sad. My very first car is going, going, gone. Here it is, our last morning together.


Next time you see me, I'll be rolling in something a little bit different. But it will never be my little three-door Saturn SC2.

90 Days Of Torture

I completed P 90 X for the second time. When I began, I had a partner. When Eddie got into the accident, he wasn't able to continue, so I forged ahead for the both of us. The countdown chart was for him, but we kept it up for me. Everything is exed out. I'm done. Finally.

Note that I'm holding the chart in front of my entire midsection.

Irony: the opposite of what's expected.

This time, I completed the Lean version of the workout, the combination of exercise routines that would make me sleek and firm and thin.

Irony: in completing P 90 X Lean, I am the chunkiest I've ever been. Hence the chart over almost my entire body.

The plan: to go back to more cardio, some yoga, and my own weight training and ab routine. Oh, and one more thing: Suck it, Tony Horton. I brought it and got nothing back except for soreness and a little devastation. Bring your ass over here and come play in my house. I'll have you crying, sucka. Man, there's nothing like bitterness to ignite a little motivation.

Bad Light

Traumatized from the broken lock buttons, my Saturn turned on its Service Engine Soon light. That light never comes on. I take good care of my Saturn. It gets all its oil changes on time. I give it good gas. I don't stomp on the pedals. I just got new wiper blades. Good car. Good, good car. This is an evil, evil light. It could mean anything.

So, having success with Chevy a few days before, I decided to take my car there since there are no Saturn dealerships anymore and I don't know any mechanics in my area. I figured since they were so good with Eddie's car, they'd treat my car right, too.

We dropped it off for next day service.

The next day came and went and they hadn't serviced it yet. Umm, next day means the day after the one when we drop the car off. Minus 10.

The day after the next day in the morning, Eddie called. They had checked the car out. Proving that checking out the car takes about an hour and they had kept it over a day. Minus 10 more. It wasn't good news.

My poor little Saturn. What now? Was it really that pissed off about the locks?

No, no. It wasn't that. It was the computer, the oxygen sensor, the temperature gauge, the A/C ventilation system, the exhaust system, and the power steering. All of that all at once. The cost would be about 3 grand.

Say what?

The car's value is between three and four according to Kelly Blue Book. My car is in great condition.

The guy said that the locks weren't working because of the computer. Hmmm. Okay, well, some of that makes sense to me, but no, actually, it doesn't. I specifically remember pressing the button and immediately feeling and hearing something snap under the button. While maybe the computer was no longer working the locks because of that, the locks were not not working because of something with the computer. So minus 100.

I was all kinds of upset. I knew it wasn't worth it to put that much money in to my little car. It has 88000 miles on it. That's about the point when my brother's Saturn gave out. He had his a few years longer that I've had mine, but I drove mine further. It's all about the mileage. He put a little money into his and said that he had some of those things fixed on his along the way. Mine just needed it all at once.

I asked what was absolutely necessary to have the car run safely. The guy said everything was necessary. Eddie called back and asked again. The guy said everything except the power steering flush. Umm, that's a different answer. Why do I get one answer that costs more money and Eddie gets a cheaper answer? Minus 1000.

Then came the point of breakdown. Eddie told the guy not to touch the car, not to fix anything, that we would pick it up later. The guy said that was fine and then billed us $222 for the diagnostic.

Eddie was like, for only the diagnostic? The guy responded, yes we had to plug it into the computer and look up all those codes.

Maybe the way the guy said it belittled the work he actually put into it. Then again, I know they spent no longer than an hour on the car. So, plugging it in, checking the codes, and writing it all down, and making a phone call cost 222? Really?

Minus 800,0000. Not for the cost so much as for not informing us of the cost before doing it. And also because the average cost of a diagnostic is half of that.

Then. THEN. We go pick up the car that night. It's still running fine, btw. It feels like nothing is wrong. It's always felt like nothing's wrong. The light was off by now. So I figured, maybe I could just assume everything is okay now that the light is off.

But no, reading over the results of the diagnostic showed me that turning off the light doesn't cure everything. I checked the cost of all the things they wanted to do to the Saturn. Now I know that dealers are usually a little more expensive, but the prices they were charging were outrageous. Outrageous. Minus 100000000000000. Is that a billion at least? Hope so.

This was bad news. All very bad news. I do not like car shopping and now it seemed inevitable. I could take it to a different place and show them the test and ask if it could be cheaper, but with all that it needed, I couldn't see the use in putting more money into it and hoping for the best. So I hopped on my laptop and dove into Kelly Blue Blue, Edmunds, and all sorts of websites and dealerships and made a list of all the cars I could possibly drive. Not one of them was a Saturn and that's what my heart really desired.

Total Recall

After Eddie had his brand new car for a little bit, his sister asked if he'd had to bring it back. Why? She saw on the internet that a bunch of Chevy Cruzes were being recalled for something wrong with the steering wheel.

Huh. We did not know that. Eddie called up Jon Lovitz and asked him about it since we hadn't gotten anything from the dealer except for a tin of cookies (and they were really good cookies). Jon Lovitz was like, Nah what are you talking about you're crazy there's nothing wrong!

Last week, we get something in the mail from Chevy. I don't usually open Eddie's mail, but there was something about this particular envelope.

I called him right after I opened it and read the entire letter about how he had to bring his car in because the manufacturer found that in some cars there is a glitch with the steering column. In layman's terms, basically, your hands can be at ten and two or your hands can be completely off the wheel and it doesn't matter because the steering wheel at any time can become detached from the car and no matter how you turned it, the car would not respond being that all the parts were no longer a whole.

(I'm not sure what this guy is so happy about. Dude, seriously, where's your car?)

So Eddie called up Jon Lovitz again. Jon Lovitz? Still no clue. Still had not heard about it. So he put Eddie through to the service department who would take the car right away and check it over and fix it if need be, all for free.

Thankfully, his car was not defective. And the service guy was so diligent in leaving the keys locked in the car so we could later pick it up with the other set that we could not find the keys in the car for a good five minutes. Good service.

So That's Where Stapleton Pier Is

Last Memorial Day, Eddie and I went on a wild goose chase. We attempted to look at the ships during Fleet Week in Staten Island and could not find Stapleton Pier. This year, I looked at website after website and finally found a page dedicated to Staten Island Fleet Week. On that page, I found directions to where the ships were docked. I don't know if it's Stapleton Pier, but that's what I'm calling it.

We followed the directions and got there in under an hour. We parked on gravel way down from the entrance. We took some pictures. The plan was to see the ships and leave. I had no need to go onto the ship. I've been on ships before. I know all ships are different, but I've seen enough in my life to be satisfied. Eddie had no interest in it at all other than he liked doing new things and he was happy we found Stapleton Pier (even if it wasn't really Stapleton Pier). However, to get closer to the ships, we had to stand on the line to get on the tour.

The line was not that long. It looked long but it was moving. Basically, we had to go through security like you go through at the airport. We needed ID. I was happy with the safety measures. So we stood on the line and eventually went through.

We got to stand in some shade for a while. It was a line to get to the next line. Okay, that didn't seem so bad. There were a lot of people there. Everyone was patiently waiting.

Flashforward.

We were standing on line with the same people in the shade. Everyone was getting impatient because we'd been there over an hour. The people in front of us had two children with them. The younger girl was probably four or five. She wanted to draw. She was bored. They played with hats. I was hot and hungry and thirsty and not in the mood for people to be playing run-in-circle-tag. (Eddie and I decided that everywhere on Earth should have an adults only section and time). Children elsewhere on the line were screaming, crying, and crabbing.

Some people attempted to cut the line. They walked right past it. When the sailors stopped them, they said they wanted to see the ships. Why did they think we were all standing there?

A sailor came over and asked who wanted to see the frigate. If you went to see the frigate, you would get right on line for the USS New York. Some people jumped at that option. Some people jumped the line to jump at that option. People were not happy with that either.

Finally, while some people were on the frigate, we got to go onto the next line. We were in the sun next to the USS New York. The sailor who took us over to it showed us the anchor and where the metal from the World Trade Center had been used in the bow. He said that he drives the ship. He didn't use the word drive, but whatever word you use for what he does that is equivalent to a truck driver driving a truck is what he does with the ship. Then we waited.

The guy behind us was talking to a few people behind him, saying that he saw the ship the other day but was on the last tour and was rushed so he wanted to see it again. Oh, the people responded, how long is the tour? He answered, about an hour and a half--it's a big ship.

Eddie and I looked at each other at the same time. If we waited another 45 minutes outside and then took a tour for an hour and a half, one of us--if not both--was not coming out of this thing alive. So instead, we did what we had come to do in the first place, we took pictures up close to the ships and then headed out of there.

On the way out, we saw that the line was now almost to the street, wayyyyyyy longer than we could ever imagine it becoming. A family stopped us on the way to the car and asked if we were on the ship. I answered, well we saw the ship. Eddie told them they were going to wait on line for at least three hours. The guy was like, For any of the ships? I was like, maybe the other ships are a little shorter, but there's only one line to get up to the ships, and it's a long one. I told them to make sure they had their ID and we wished them well.

When we got to the car, I drank some water which I'd packed. It was near boiling. Then I ate a cereal bar. It was near melted. We both had some nuts. We turned on the A/C. Ahhhh, that's some kind of heaven. And as the day wore on, I found that I'd gotten some kind of sunburn on my arms and chest. Even Eddie was tinged a little pink in his face. So that's what happens at Stapleton Pier. It's mayhem, but in a good way.

I Broke The Lock

It was an ordinary day. I got into my car in the driveway to run some errands. I closed the door. I clicked the lock button on the door.

Then something out of the ordinary happened. Something inside the door snapped. The button was askew. I pushed the unlock and then the lock again. It was all screwy. The lock buttons were broken.


(This has nothing to do with what I'm talking about, but I figured I'd share).

I leaned over and tried it on the passenger side. That was working. The lock button on the keys was working too. So for almost nine years, the button I used the most lasted. Not a big deal.

But then, a few days later, the passenger side was screwy too. The only way to truly lock and unlock both sides without reaching and making a production was using the key lock button.

Again, not a huge deal. Poor little Saturn. I didn't think much of it. I figured when I had some time, I could take a screwdriver to the door panel, open it up, and see if I could fix it. Not that I know anything about cars, but I do know a bunch about Krazy Glue and a hot glue gun. That stuff can fix mostly anything.

Too Green Bank

TD Bank is America's most convenient bank. At least, that's what their sign says. Their logo is green. So is their philosophy. (And so is their mascot, apparently. Thank God I've never seen that thing in person). Eddie and I pulled into the lot of one we hadn't been to before. The first two spaces next to the handicapped parking were reserved for hybrid and electric vehicles. Huh, that's an interesting way of thinking. I don't know how many people would be encouraged to get these kinds of cars because of advantageous parking spaces, but surely those who already own the cars appreciate it.

Sidenote--the rest of the parking lot was extremely confusing with all kinds of lines and lanes marked for thru traffic, no parking, parking, and drive-up.

Then came the actual banking. Their machine does not use envelopes. Eddie had his envelope all ready to roll and saw that there was no slot for it. He had to put the money into the machine. Just a stack of bills. Into the machine. It wouldn't take more than a certain number of bills, so we had to stand there and count out separate stacks. Sometimes the machine agreed with what we said we put it. Sometimes it had a different count. Who was right? We didn't know but we trusted the machine because we had no alternative. This became the most aggravating exchange with an ATM machine I've ever had.

Coincidentally, the most aggravating exchange with an ATM machine before that happened only within the past few weeks when I finally figured out how to get an envelope out of the ATM at my own bank. They no longer have a stack available and you can get an envelope only in the middle of your transaction, during which the machine beeped at me while I filled out the envelope because I was taking too long. I would have had it all filled out already had it allowed me to get one before beginning my transaction.

Sometimes progress is a major setback. Think these things through, bank people. Think it through.