The Attachment to Objects
Last month, my dad drove my brother's old car to our house so that I could see if I could sell it. My parents were afraid that it might bother them to sell it in their town and run the risk of seeing it drive by on a regular basis. Fair enough, says I.
The car was bought and paid for by my brother with money he'd earned from a couple of summer jobs while he was still in high school. It's a Saab 900, and he purchased it from a lady in Salt Lake City who babied it. It was always a nice car, and he was very proud of it.
When I got it from dad, there were a couple of problems that needed to be addressed before I thought that it would be fit to sell. Firstly, the heater control was stuck on full blast, which made warm weather driving a bit uncomfortable. A visit to eBay and $15 got me a heater control rod to replace the broken part. Secondly, a mechanic in Laramie had botched up the installation of a new fuel pump, and the car had always smelled of gasoline. Okay, it smelled STRONGLY of gasoline...Okay, okay, it reeked. It's actually a pretty common problem for Saab 900s, because the fuel pump is accessible from the passenger compartment. I did a little research, bought some parts from a Saab specialty website, and pulled the pump out. I replaced the seal and retaining ring, put it back in. Lo and behold, it now just smells like an old car. Sweet, sweet sense of accomplishment.
Monday afternoon, I put a FOR SALE sign in the window and parked it in at the front of the parking lot where I work.
Yesterday afternoon, I got a call from a gentleman interested in the car. Turns out he was very interested, and I had a check in hand 45 minutes later. Nice, but in a way it makes me sad. That car was one of the things that most reminded me of my brother. I find it odd that my parents hung onto it in their garage for 5 1/2 years when it bothered them to even look at it. It's weird to me that an object can affect any of us this way. The thing is just a car - a hunk of metal. But, the last memory I have of my bro was of him driving off in that thing one late summer evening. Now, I may see it running around town. And so it goes.
The car was bought and paid for by my brother with money he'd earned from a couple of summer jobs while he was still in high school. It's a Saab 900, and he purchased it from a lady in Salt Lake City who babied it. It was always a nice car, and he was very proud of it.
When I got it from dad, there were a couple of problems that needed to be addressed before I thought that it would be fit to sell. Firstly, the heater control was stuck on full blast, which made warm weather driving a bit uncomfortable. A visit to eBay and $15 got me a heater control rod to replace the broken part. Secondly, a mechanic in Laramie had botched up the installation of a new fuel pump, and the car had always smelled of gasoline. Okay, it smelled STRONGLY of gasoline...Okay, okay, it reeked. It's actually a pretty common problem for Saab 900s, because the fuel pump is accessible from the passenger compartment. I did a little research, bought some parts from a Saab specialty website, and pulled the pump out. I replaced the seal and retaining ring, put it back in. Lo and behold, it now just smells like an old car. Sweet, sweet sense of accomplishment.
Monday afternoon, I put a FOR SALE sign in the window and parked it in at the front of the parking lot where I work.
Yesterday afternoon, I got a call from a gentleman interested in the car. Turns out he was very interested, and I had a check in hand 45 minutes later. Nice, but in a way it makes me sad. That car was one of the things that most reminded me of my brother. I find it odd that my parents hung onto it in their garage for 5 1/2 years when it bothered them to even look at it. It's weird to me that an object can affect any of us this way. The thing is just a car - a hunk of metal. But, the last memory I have of my bro was of him driving off in that thing one late summer evening. Now, I may see it running around town. And so it goes.
posted by ptooey at
9:56 AM
4 Comments:
My, you're handy!
Okay. I've stopped crying now.
Not that you need to be reminded of your brother, but won't it be somewhat comforting to see the car from time to time? Maybe you'll feel a little sweetness at the memories. Maybe.
By
bhd, at Thu May 10, 10:41:00 AM
I'm with The Universe, perhaps it will act as a nice sweet twinge of nostalgia when you see it around town.
By
newwavegurly, at Thu May 10, 03:15:00 PM
I dunno. We'll see. I had absolutely no problem driving the car, but it's different when you see it coming down the street. Best I can explain it is that it's like when you see someone who reminds you of a person you knew who's no longer with us. Inevitably there will be that split second where you think "Oh, cool!" before reality sets in again and you remember that you'll never see them again.
I think I'm going to take the license plate frame from the Saab and keep it as a memento. It's pretty distinctive - reads "How Swede it is."
By
ptooey, at Fri May 11, 11:14:00 AM
I would have a hard time if i saw it driving around town too. But i am a sentimental sap.
I say keep the licence frame. that will make you smile each time you see it. well, most times.
By
Mermaid Melanie, at Tue May 15, 04:36:00 PM
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