A while back I (cough, cough) jokingly (cough, cough) referred to Recliner Man’s old Blazer as a piece of crap (POC). Little did I know that the higher powers of the automotive world would make me pay dearly for that careless remark.

I came home from Oregon the evening of July  7th. The very next day my adventures with the angry car gods began. After taking my son out for dinner I stopped at a gas station to fill the tank. No sooner did I come to a stop and a man came running over, pointing at the front of my car. Water was pouring out onto the pavement. The man was oh-so-helpful. Did he take a look under the hood, offer to bring water for a hot radiator? No. He told me to get it out of the way of the other customers. So we moved it to the side of the lot. I called the AAA tow truck and my son called a friend for a ride. And then we sat in 100+ degrees waiting for our rides.

My general good luck tried to offset the angry gods and brought a tow truck from the service station closest to my home. This meant that the driver would drop me off at my house and it would be easier to pick up my car the next day. $800 later I had a new radiator and a ride in the tow truck to go pick up the car. Yeah, I know I already told you this story in the last post but there are some things you just can’t get over quickly. Feel my pain and deal with it. LOL

Eight days later on a Friday night, my car refused to start. I turned the key and all I got in return was a puttering sound. Great. When a car won’t start here, the first thing we think about is the battery. The Arizona heat is a real battery killer and we have been through several of them since moving here. Once again my son was with me for dinner, so he pulled out the battery and we took it to the parts store to be tested. They charged it and told us it was good so we brought it home and reinstalled it. Turned the key and the dang car just made that puttering sound. By the third attempt I decided it was more of a mocking sound.

Saturday morning I called AAA again and requested a tow truck. The same driver who had come to my aid a few days earlier arrived and said, “When I heard the call I said, ‘I know that address. What trouble has that lady gotten into now?’ ” Great, just great, I’ve become a ‘regular’ with the tow truck diver. Are there any more milestones for me to reach in life? So, the first thing the driver does is reach in the car and turn the key. The damn thing started right up! Traitor!! I’m sure it was just to make me feel a little better about looking like the fool who called a tow truck for nothing, but the driver made a show of checking the battery connections and acting like one may have been a little loose…. or something. Thanks Mr. Tow Truck Driver.

One week later, again on a Friday night, I stopped at the mail box on my way home from dinner with my son. As I pulled up to the curb I turned the car off and mildly scolded myself for doing that. Normally I leave the car running since the mailbox key is on a separate key chain and in the AZ heat no one wants to shut of the A/C if they don’t have too. Then I mildly scolded myself again, for the first scolding, because it was only going to be 30 second,s so what difference did it make? Should I be concerned that I seem to be talking to myself a lot? Anyway, I hop back in the car, turn the key and am greeted by that evil, mocking, puttering sound.

I called my son and he and a friend (who has decided to be our son on Pay Day Pizza nights) came over to try and jump start the car. That didn’t work, so they take the battery out and go back to the parts store with it.They came back with a new battery, telling me that the old one was starting to take the charge and seemed OK but the parts guy decided to just give them a new one so we wouldn’t keep coming back. Hmmm. Whatever. So they put the new battery in and the car starts right up. They park it in the garage and head out the door with a bottle of my wine and a promise that I’ll make them a cheesecake. What the heck, it is worth it to have the car running again.

Two days later my son comes over and we go out to drive the car to dinner. I turned the key and the car ever so slowly, kinda, sorta, started, puttered a bit, and died. I turned the key again and that twisted, evil, mocking, puttering sound was back. I am really, really getting tired of this. A couple of hours later I tried the key again. I didn’t want a repeat of the Tow Truck Driver coming out just to start the car for me. That SOB POC started right up! What the heck!?!

Today it once again started right up, so I drove it straight to the car repair shop and dropped the problem in their lap. Then I walked home in 105 degree heat and thanked my good luck that I have a nice repair shop close by my home. It only took me 15 minutes to walk here. Now I get to sit and wait for them to track down the mystery problem. I have my fingers crossed that it will turn out to be a bad alternator, simply because that would be quick for them to find and wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg to replace. Do me a favor and cross a couple of fingers for me.

Meanwhile, Recliner Man’s ride (please note that I did not call it a POC) hasn’t given him any more problems. He loves it so much that he is going to keep it forever, even though he just ordered himself a brand new, pimped out, Camero. I told him on the phone that I think I’ll just go out and order myself a brand new, pimped out Prius. There was nothing but silence on the phone when I said that. Cue the crickets.

So, what have I learned from all this? That I shouldn’t be taking my son out to eat so much!

On a completely different note: I’m still looking for the photo of the balloon boobs and wig. That photo has a life of it’s own. It shows up when you least expect it and then vanishes again, sometimes for years, then shows up again. It has to be around here someplace and I’ll keep looking. I also promise to share a few more Crater Lake photos tonight. Now that I can’t take my son out to dinner I should have a lot more time for posting, right?