Yesterday we tooled around, and the day was so beautiful that Steve ditched the A/C in my car, which was once his car. He lowered the windows. As the back passenger side window dropped- it really dropped. Into the abyss.
The car is celebrating its 11th birthday, but it is a thing of beauty. It is a silver BMW x5 with 86,000 miles on it. It is sturdy, reliable, powerful, impervious to the appearance of dirt. In the seven years that it has been mine, I have added the last 30K miles. I do not worry when I park in a grocery lot, because a shopping cart dent would be no big thing. It is the Dogmobile, as fur is not allowed in Steve's car. It has one of the first GPS systems in it, but it still works like a charm, though inputting is like making a Dymo label. The cassette tape opening smirks with retro charm.
But I love my car. I feel safe in it. It has been paid for for 4 years, and I really love that. It lacks Sirius and the cool Bluetooth connectivity sold with new models, but really- it is perfect for me. Radio is annoying to me; I have taken to riding in silence. I can plug my I Phone into the charger and listen to the Dahlcast, which drops into my phone like magic. So I hate when stuff goes sideways, because it will give Steve ammunition to force me to get a new car. I like the one I have. I could drive it until I drop dead.
This repair will be $600. We need a window generator. I guess that it is a common repair on this model. In truth, if the mechanic could hoist the window up and disable the switch, I would be fine with it. Steve cannot abide that notion. The part has been ordered, the window will be returned to an operational state.
SO.....we are currently car free. Bertha BMW is at the garage, where Steve dropped her off. He rode his bike home, did a show, and exited. He is now gallivanting around the area, happily stopping for sandwiches and coffee. Since my kneecap pops off with every rotation, I have chosen not to bike ride. Instead, I have cleaned the patio closet, sprayed the furniture with an anti-mold compound, and weeded. I feel a sense of accomplishment, and he feels liberation. We vacation together, but different activities consume us. I think his choices sound more fun, to tell you the truth.
Steve will be returning to Chicago in my car for a Culture frozen yogurt promotion and the Bears game on Thursday. His travel plans fueled a very efficient repair scheme. The car should be finished in time, but I suppose he could take the South Shore or Amtrack in if need be. It is my hope that as he zips in the masterpiece of German efficiency that is my car, he will fall in love all over. He will forget his argument that the car is at the tipping point.
If not, I will move to Plan B, where I ask for a 2 seater convertible. This would mean that the dogs would be traveling to New Buffalo and other destinations in HIS shiny, late model luxury car. I think this would be a persuasive argument.
I could ride along to Chicago to keep him company, but I think I will just lower my bar of vacation achievement another rung, and do a New Buffalo readathon in the company of the dogs. I won't mention the potential upgrade to their transportation options, just in case Steve sees it my way.
I expect he will, until the next repair.