Friday, February 16, 2007

The Killers 'Sam's Town'



Last night I was driving into town early to meet Tim Beeman for a few cold ones at Natty Greene’s. He wanted to check out the wheat brews and grab a bite to eat. I too wanted a few of the award-winning Old Town Brown Ales and a plate of Chipotle Wings.

I left the house to meet him. I took the least desired way into town because I thought about the horrible back-up that usually occurs at N. Elm and Cone.

I was stopped on Battleground at the stoplight where the Eckerd’s and Cellar Anton’s are located. When I got the green light, my truck Roxy made an awful racket and she sounded like she was dragging everything made of metal underneath her. My first thought, the muffler and stuff had fallen off or I hit something. Then my NASCAR watching kicked in (keep in mind that I know nothing about cars) and the sound reminded me of the in-car sound of a race car losing an engine. I managed to coax her along to the parking lot of Guilford Builders Supply, parked her, and switched her off. I got out and looked underneath and everything appeared normal. I then popped the hood to see if the belt had broken. There was no strange smells and the belt was tight and in tact.

Now it was officially over my head and time to call my father. He possesses the mechanical gene that I wasn’t blessed with.

He came quickly, had me pop the hood, and crank her up to hear what the problem may be. When I turned her over, he immediately and vigorously waved me to turn it off. Although he’s a backyard mechanic, his first prognosis was an internal engine problem, perhaps a thrown rod.

Roxy has about 64,000 miles on her. How can this be?

The last payment is sitting on my table, stamped and ready to go early this morning. Why am I having such bad luck with vehicles right before they’re being paid off???

Spoon (R.I.P), my previous Ford Ranger, was totaled with only 4 payments to go by a woman that was speeding and running a red light. Let me tell ya, I was pissed and thankfully uninjured. Spoon was rolled over and came to rest on the roof. And the funny thing is… I was hanging upside down and I could feel the engine running. I mashed in the clutch and put Spoon into first gear to cut the ignition off before getting out of the wrecked truck. Crazy, huh?

I couldn’t believe that Roxy’s heart went bad on me last night just before mailing off the last payment. I have been careful about driving her in bad weather within the last few weeks because I’d like a few years without truck payments. I can control what I do, but I cannot control the actions and inabilities of the other drivers around me.

Here's a picture of Roxy when in better health...



I’ve been driving Fords my whole life, but I’m starting to feel the tug from Toyota.

I had Roxy towed to the dealership that promotes a 100,000 mile warranty on all their new Fords last night. I called first thing this morning and the service advisor and I didn’t hit it off. That’s another story for another day. Lets just say that I felt insulted and ridiculed by that service advisor. My anger (I’m laid back and difficult to infuriate) went from zero to 190 M.P.H. faster than Robby Gordon (driver of the Jim Beam number 7) at Daytona.

As they say on the news… I will keep you posted as events unfold.

2 comments:

  1. I’ve been driving Fords my whole life, but I’m starting to feel the tug from Toyota.

    I drove American cars until two years ago. I got sick and fucking tired of putting in a transmission or other similar expense before reaching 100,000 miles. It's ridiculous. I now drive a Toyota, hubby recently bought an Accord. Our truck is a Ford, but we rarely drive it. I'm sure it will be the first one to die, though.

    When I was looking at cars, hubby halfway jokingly told me that I could buy anything that I wanted as long as it ended in "-ota". I think it's good advice.

    Sorry to hear of Roxy's troubles. The Blue Meanie sends her sympathy (My cars have to be named, too).

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  2. I go through transmissions myself. Mine went out in both a Ford Windstar then a Chevy Blazer at around 70,000 miles without any warning, no slipping. Good luck.

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