Well, it’s taken me five years to do it, but I finally called in the grua to take away our1992 Fiat Tempra station wagon. It has sat around on the property all that time as a good and faithful friend. Every time that I went to run the engine it answered promptly, even though the spiders took it over as their own home. It developed that old person smell after a while, as compared to the new car smell, so we knew it was getting along in age.
We stopped driving it because it developed a problem of jack-rabbiting, or hiccupps that absolutely no mechanic in the land was able to clear up. They could alleviate the effects a bit, but the problem always came back again. To say that it was embarrassing is an understatement. Finally, we bought another car and simply parked the Fiat and forgot about it.
I did start it periodically to keep the battery charged, and then, after about a year of this I decided that it was time to get rid of it. So, I started it up and moved it and the problem was no longer in evidence, and was never experienced again. It seems that all it needed was a vacation. However, to pass it through itv it would also have needed a few other things done to it that would have probably cost more than we could have sold it for.
So, with reluctance and a heavy heart I called in the grua and we drove it on to the truck, I gave it a pat on its rump to say “farewell and thank you”, and it was gone.
It’s funny how attached we can become to things. A car is supposed to be an inanimate object, but once we turn the key it bursts forth into life and becomes something full of energy. We call our cars names, even some not-so-polite ones, but that has the effect of endearing them to us. It might be an SOB, but it’s my SOB.
So Fiat Tempra V-7964-EB, wherever you are, you are gone but not forgotten.
Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael
