Well, it’s just weird enough. You know Mister Big, the Sex and the City character? We now own his Mom’s car. Evidently, they have a summer house up here (in a village I shall not reveal), and had an “up North” car that didn’t get used much. And we bought it. Shades of Seinfeld.
We are now the proud owners of a white 2002 Mercury Sable (of all things), with a super lean 70k miles behind it. Little old lady from (Passadena). The thing looks as if no one had ever stepped foot in it. Interior, spotless. Exterior, spotless. No rust. No corrosion. The engine, spotless. When we test drove the thing, we were all lah-dee-dah-look-at-us-in-the-fancy-car. Felt like a stay at the Ritz.
A new car means lots of things. Good things. Real good things. No more constant (monthly) repairs. No more getting stuck all over the place because the car broke again. We’ll have windows that open. Air-conditioning. A sound system. That nifty hatchback-or-backseat option. Better gas milage. And oddly enough for us, it’s as nice as the cars we had rented for vacations.
Well, whatta ya know. A car from a dealer with a warranty. Does this mean we’re adults? If you are ever in the market, we recommend Evergreen Auto in Saranac Lake, recommended by our mechanic, another mechanic, and many friends.
The Jeep? Poor thing. She’s headed to the bone yard. With almost-monthly visits to the shop, sensor problems, wiring issues, a leaky transmission, brake problems, leaks in the windows, an impending inspection, and a habit of refusing to start when it’s below 50 degrees … well, she’s gotta go. In her defense, she provided a helluva basic ride for a while. RIP, Ethel.