This past weekend I had the delightful opportunity of once again having misfortune reap down upon my automobile.
The past blights include multiple tire blow outs, a transfer case that just won’t stop leaking, even after replacement and other problems that are easier to deal with but those are the dangers of having a car that is almost the same age as I am.
So what was my Easter morning surprise?
Finding my windshield with a shattered glass silhouette of somebody’s shoe.
This was distressing since I was home for Easter, in Cranbrook, and needed to get back for Monday.
Since it was Easter though, nothing in the way of windshields was available.
Even then, because my car is so sparse, the chances of them having the correct windshield wasn’t all that good anyway.
To top it off a big puddle of transfer case gear oil had accumulated under the car overnight.
And so my old car has been retired for awhile, with its nice new tires and smashed windshield.
And to solve the problem of getting back to Grand Forks, I just bought a cheap car that may not look like much, but has a certain aura about it that evokes an air of a steam engine that pushes its way up a mountain or a tank that can’t be held back.
Sure, it may be a Honda that, on the outside, looks much less smooth and polished than my old car, but on the inside it’s a mechanism akin to a Swiss watch, every movement precise and practical, every last ounce of energy going into propelling it forward.
No hill will be too big, well, at least that’s what I’m going to choose to believe until I can afford a car that doesn’t come from another century.
Hopefully by then, they will have the kinds of car windows that can withstand the impact and pressure from a pair of boots coming down on them.
–Arne Petryshen is a reporter with the Grand Forks Gazette