Oh hey!  Turns out I’ve been posting my Saab saga on Opposite lock but not on my own website.  Ooops.

So yeah… find the Saab saga here.

As of last writing I had abandoned, attempted to recover, and re-abandoned my first car, a 1984 Saab 900 Turbo Sedan.  As you might expect, we have not yet reached the end of this tale.

Two years after saying “fuck it” to trying to get my Saab back from my family mechanic, I found myself, one again, with an empty space in the garage.  At this point I had actually expanded my garage so it can now accommodate 3 cars and recently sold my Dune Buggy and was casually looking at buying another car.

At some point I had the thought: “You know, I have a vehicle that can tow (the Yukon).  If Dad can get the car to his house, I can just come pick it up…  Yeah…”

So I make the call.  As you could imagine the conversation is much the same.  The mechanic wants to get it running and just needs a few weeks.  This time, however, we’ve got a deadline.  If he doesn’t have it ready by the end of the month, we’re picking it up anyway.

Weeks go by.  Still no car.

I plan the trip, request the time off to come pick it up, and reserve the trailer.

Still no car.

I pack my bags and get the garage ready.

Still no car.

I load up the Cow (Yukon) with tools, supplies, and dogs and start heading south.

Still no car.

Around noon I get the call.  The car is in the driveway, CD changer still full of j-pop.  Years of effort solved in weeks by simply having the thing towed.  Why we didn’t do this year ago I’m not sure.

The rest of the story is pretty uneventful.  I arrive in Louisiana late and catch dinner with my dad.  The next day we pick up the car carrier from UHaul, with the usual amount of dicking around one expects from UHaul, and load up the car.

No drama.  No more waiting.

One day later me, my dad, two pooches, and my first car are on the road back to Tulsa.

Now the real work can begin…

Ok… so that last post was my first attempt at artful writing.  It was a worthy experiment and it is now over.  In part 1 we read about a touching coming of age story, except without all the emotion, trials, tribulations, sex, and drinking.  Pretty much just involved an old Saab, a lot of bourbon, and Top Gear.

As previously mentioned, after watching the Saab episode of Top Gear I did get nostalgic and I did have an empty parking space in the garage, so I shot my dad a text asking what was what.  This was in  April of 2013.

Little did I know this was not going to an easy or cheap car acquisition.  The Saab had been sent to the mechanic some years previous (2004 I think?) for a starting issue and never returned.  It wasn’t a priority for either of my parents, me, or the mechanic.  So there it sat.  Fast forward to 2013 and as you would expect it needed some work.  The mechanic had worked on my family’s cars, but especially the Saab, since 2001 and we had a good friendly relationship.  He couldn’t fathom returning the car to me without it being in running order, so he got to work bringing it back up to spec.  Not having a good way of dealing with a non-running car, I figured this was a win-win.  So I waited.

And waited.

And called.

And waited.

And called.

And texted.

And waited.

Finally, after two years of texting, calling, pleading, and threatening… I gave up.  Yes, that’s right.  I said “fuck it” and forgot about my dreams of bring the old beast back under my care again.  I was in a bad place at the time.  I hated my job, was having some exceptionally painful medical problems, and my other project car wasn’t panning out.  So in order to exercise control on something in my life, I went out and bought Bessie (the Dozy Cow), my 1999 Yukon.  Long story there, but lets go with I wanted one and had looked for one for a while..  So I bough it, thus filling my theoretical garage.  And there ended the Saab saga.

Or so I thought…

Well… I finally did it.

After years of trying, I successfully recovered my first car.  It is now safe, and dry- err moderately moist in my “TODO” bay at home.

To rewind: Once upon a time, a teenager that couldn’t drive stick and desperately needed a “cool” set of wheels was bequeathed the family’s albatross, a 1984 Saab 900 8-Valve Turbo 5-Speed Sedan.  It previously was owned by his brother, who rejected it because he had to check the oil, and his uncle before that, who gave it away after he blew the head gasket.  It used oil, had dirty upholstery, needed a radio and new headliner, and was pretty far from “cool”… but wheels are wheels.

The Saab took the teenager on many an adventure.  From getting a flat in the middle of an abandon military complex during a full, blue moon,.mild to moderate offroading, to just cruising around town. From Washington to California, and then on to Louisiana, the two are virtually inseparable.

Years later, this teenager is now a young man, heading off to college 500 miles from home.  The Saab dutifully carries this young man, his possessions, two arcade style DDR pads, and a 10-disc changer full of burned j-pop CDs to and from Tulsa through his first year of many.  At this point I would like to add stories about first times, beer cans in the back seat, and fogged windows.  This however, was not to be, for you see this young man was to be an engineer, and girls and beer were not in his future… or past.  But this story isn’t about him.

After a year of holidays back home, grocery runs, and just driving around, the dutiful Saab was nearing 200,000 miles and starting to show the strain of heavy use.  After a breakdown during the journey home, the young man’s parents, reasonably concerned about the extended reliability of a 20 year old Swedish sports sedan, presented the young man with a 2-door Honda Accord EX V6.  And it was good.  And the young man parked his faithful Saab with the parents and he did not look back.  He had the “cool” wheels he long wished for.

Many moons pass and the young man is now an adult, an engineer, and a petrolhead.  Several project cars under his belt, an empty parking bay in the garage, and a Top Gear tribute to Saab have him thinking about his old, faithful daily driver.  A text message is sent that sets in motion three years of hostage negotiations…