My Lemon

My car is a lemon. It is no secret or surprise that the 2000 (first year model) Ford Focus is a lemon. But I like this lemon - even when the fuel pump went out at 18,000 miles, the (ignition) starter busted at 24,000 miles - there have been a 78 recalls for joints, bearings, plastic pieces here and there, wires, plugs, you name it, it's probably been replaced on my car.

But I love my lemon. It was the first car I bought and is the only thing of significant value that I own. It is zippy and fast (oops) and fun to drive. It has bumper stickers on its fat hinny and its name is Ovette (no, not after Corvette, but because it looks like a giant ovary on wheels). My friends in Peace Corps predicted that I would drive a hatchback, with bumper stickers and with an activist box (scissors, tape, tacks, etc.) in the trunk and I declared, defiantly that I "am not a dirty hippie!"

Hmmm...

So I change the oil regularly and keep all of the fluids filled. I have an emergency kit (blanket, jeans, flashlight) in the trunk and I've changed my share of flat tires. My dad and brother, who can fix cars in their sleep (and build houses) have helped me over the years, but have also given me a keen sense of when it's having problems - and it is. Fuel problems to be exact. At first I thought it was the air filter - which after changing it seemed to help. Then we decided it was the fuel injectors. Now, the "check engine" light has come on and I'm convinced that it's the oxygen sensor. Some of this I came up with on my own, some of it my dad and brother helped me with and a friend added a thought or two. So my lemon has to go to the shop and get fixed.

My friend Glitter Chicken (Dani) and I lament about the fact that we're away from "home" - home being many things but home also being that place where you can drive your car up to you parent's/brother's house (or in her case, her boss' house) and say "I think I have this problem..." And you can be reassured about it - you don't have to face car mechanics alone (who, more often than not, think women don't know anything about cars and either treat you like an idiot or try to rip you off) - and together you can fix it or at least learn about it.

It's one of those things you miss - and one of those things you'll figure out along the way - just like finding a good dentist - you will find a good mechanic. Plus, you can still call your dad or your brother and say "Hey - I have this problem and I think...."