Velma's Ailing

Let me start off by saying...Velma is my car, not a person who may have caused some concern when I say she’s ailing.

Two years ago Velma and I went through a rough winter. She was a cantankerous old soul and became unreliable, wouldn’t start her engine in cold weather and threatened to leave me stranded.

I bribed her with a new battery and we were good buddies after that, or so I thought. Last winter she decided I didn’t need to see through the windshield in bad weather, like snow and rain. She just needed another token of my affection and I had her Uncle Brad outfit her with a whole new windshield wiper motor and assembly (not sure if that’s what it’s called but it sounds good).

Some people, my kids who will remain nameless, think I hear car noises, that I’m always suspecting something is wrong. This time I was right.

Velma had developed a bit of a...squeak or a hum, not a thump, not a knock. It happened at different times so as to confuse me, and of course make others doubt my word. I was told the noise could be from moisture that collects, somewhere, someplace, and since I don’t drive the car on a daily basis, sometimes not even on a weekly basis, that moisture can accumulate and cause that noise.

Well, I like to think that Velma and I have reached a better level of understanding than that. I don’t think she’d worry me over a bit of accumulated moisture. She was telling me something and I was ignoring her.

So, on Saturday when I went out, she threw what I would say was the equivalent to a toddler having a very public tantrum. There was a truck in the court for a neighbour moving out, her family and friends standing around, other neighbours out visiting and working in their gardens, so...an audience...and Velma had her tantrum of noise for everybody to hear

.

I got the message, Velma. Are you happy now? My son drove her out to Uncle Brad’s and he gave her a quick check up. Apparently she has a hole in her whatchamacallit or was it a thingiedoodle? Whatever, he’s ordered her a new one.

I’m so sorry, Sweetie, I’ll listen to you better next time. And shame on all the doubters out there, those naysayers who didn’t believe. We old girls have to hang together, getting old and worn with rusty parts is one of the downfalls of aging.