And then you laugh: Stella

I named my car Stella. I share this only because I know that I am not the only person who gives their cars names. Stella got her name from the play "A Street Car Names Desire." You know the famous scene where Stanley realizes he screwed up majorly and is yelling "Stella!" up the stairs. It is because of that scene and my laziness in shoveling my driveway that my car arrived at its name.

See Burlington, Vermont gets a lot of snow; a whole heck of a lot of snow some years. Sometimes I just don't realize that it is going to snow as much as it does and therefore don't get up early enough to shovel the driveway out. Sometimes I come home from work to find the street plows have closed the drive in, and sometimes (my favorite) I get up shovel the drive and in the two hours it takes me to shower, dress, eat, get the kids up, dressed, and fed the street or sidewalk plow has come by again and plowed another pile at the end of my drive. That makes for a grumpy start to your day I tell you. It also leads me to offer you the real estate advice to never buy a house on the right hand side of a one way street- because guess what side they pile all the snow on? Anyhow sometimes I have been known to just drive through the pile of snow at the end of my drive. When this occasion arises it seems that you should cheer for the car. I mean Subaru's are great for winter driving, but occasionally even I think I have asked her to clear a pretty big pile. At any rate, I have trained my girls to shout, "STELLA" while we back through. If nothing else it distracts them from the impact.

So Stella, yes Stella, is my car. She has had a bit of a rough time of it lately. The latest was my return to NH from Boston yesterday when my check engine light came on again for the second time in three weeks. I decided to call the closest Subaru dealer to where I was staying in Derry on the off chance that they would be open on a Sunday. I was surprised when a very peppy woman actually did answer. I explained my situation that I was traveling and heading back to Vermont tomorrow and that the check engine light came on. I went on to ask if someone might be able to look at it and tell me why it was on and if I could drive it home.

Peppy woman: "Oh I am sure it is nothing."

Me: "Well, I know it could be nothing, but I have a ways to drive tomorrow and I just want to be sure."

Ms. Peppy: "Oh I am sure it is no big deal these lights just come on."

Me: "But it is a check engine light. I mean shouldn't we, um, you know, check the engine?"

Ms. Peppy: "How about I put the manager on and he can reassure you it is nothing?"

I re-explain my situation to the manager.

Manager, " Oh sure we could probably help you tomorrow. The repair department isn't open today. They open tomorrow at 7:30. Why don't you call then and they can fit you in."

This seemed like a good idea. So I called at 7:40 this morning and spoke to a man in the repair department. He seemed to feel that since the light was on constantly that it was probably something not firing right. Apparently you are in really deep doo doo if it is flashing on and off. Then you can't drive it at all. He said it should be fine to drive home I just might find that I had less power on the hills. Because you know there aren't any hills crossing New Hampshire and Vermont. It is practically like Kansas out there...what with the two MOUNTAIN RANGES I CROSS.

Never the less I decided that maybe I was being overly paranoid. This being me and I am prone to about 14 different neurotic tendencies. I decided to head for home as is. I did pack extra water and food and charge up the cell phone in the event of a breakdown.

I would like to tell you that I was so happy and relaxed to have made my decision that I sailed right on home. I did sail right on home car wise, but of course this is me so I obsessed over every lurch, squeak, and ping for the entire 4 hours. The hills were especially fun as I crawled up then at between 40-45 miles per hour. I discovered that it behaved better if I didn't try to accelerate too much but kept an even pace. This was, of course, difficult on the steeper hills. I really enjoyed the red tractor trailer who sped up behind me blowing the air horn for me to go faster. Everyone relaxes more when we look in the mirror and see a giant grill and the word MACK written on it. I am not sure why he felt it so difficult to move to the left to the passing lane and go around me. There was no other traffic, perhaps he wanted the dog to move its head so he could see the Wonderpets movie on DVD too. I know the kids complained a lot about that.

Anyhow we made it. In my stress ridden drive I did have a lot of time to think about this situation. I think I have a suggestion for Subaru that will help cut down the stress of other rule following drivers like myself who feel that check engine means one should, you know, check the engine. Perhaps we could have three different lights come on instead that would describe the situation more accurately. They could say something like this:

1- Check engine, you know when you get around to it I have plenty of time no worries.

2- Check engine, now, we got big problems brewing

3- Get out of the car do not drive 5 more feet or the car will be engulfed in flames.

Maybe it is just me but I would find this more helpful. That way I would misplace my stress. As it was I fretted so much my all the way home waiting for my constant on light to start flashing I never changed my CD once. That means I spent 4 hours listening to the same Kasey Chambers' CD. I am now complete depressed about starving children in Cambodia and every guy who ever broke my heart. I am going to need long run in the morning to recover form all this.

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