I am not the best when it comes to making purchases.
Take, for example, the first car I bought. It was an Oldsmobile, and I bought it because it was the right color and clean as a pin. Unfortunately, the engine had problems. As an example, on a drive to the Smoky Mountains to see the fall colors the engine kept overheating. I had to turn on the air conditioner to make the fan come on to keep the engine from getting too hot. Unfortunately, that meant those of us in the car intermittently froze and roasted alternately. Even when I had the engine replaced, that engine locked up on me. I had “negative equity” (meaning that I owed more on the car than it was worth in its undriveable condition).
So what did I do? I bought a second car from the same dealer. This car was a Buick Skylark. It was black with a red velvet interior. I didn’t like the colors. I bought that car because of its availability and affordability. This car had an electronic dash, which I loved. I risked having several accidents because I would get fixated on watching the speedometer and odometer change numbers.
That car proved to be one of, if not the, best cars I have owned, other than the paint, which began to peel and flake off. I called a Buick dealership to discover that particular model had defective paint. I was told if I had called one year earlier that Buick would have repainted the car at no cost to me (I never quite believed that, somehow—I think perhaps I would have been told the same thing one year earlier).
There was one incident with the Buick that was puzzling. I was driving after dark when I came to a stop sign at the intersection of Hickory Valley Road and Highway 33. All of the sudden, every light, interior dash and headlights, went out. I was sitting in pitch darkness, wondering what I would do. Though I wasn’t far from home, I couldn’t drive, because I could neither see nor be seen. This was also before cell phones were available. I had someone with me, but that just meant two of us were in the dark. Just before panic could set in, the lights came back on. That never happened with that car again.
I kept that car for several years, until I feared the metal would rust through. I sold it to my sister when I leased a brand-new Saturn.
That leased Saturn had forest green metallic paint and a beige leather interior. I loved that car, but people like me do not need to lease cars. The only reason I got out of that deal without losing my shirt was because the car was totaled in an accident on Dry Gap Pike when another car ran a stop sign.
After that accident, from which I escaped with only a slight fabric bag burn on one hand from the imploding air bag and a few slivers of glass in the palm of my other hand, I meditated on how close I had come to death at the tender age of thirty-two. Depressed jerk that I was, I eventually realized that life must go on, and part of that life was getting another car.
I bought a straight-shift Saturn from my nephew. My good friend Mark Martin taught me to drive straight-shift Toyota, and I became quite comfortable with his car. Unfortunately, I was never comfortable with the Saturn straight-shift, to which the rough spots in my driveway will testify to this day. I traded it for another Saturn that had been, ironically enough, a leased car.
That particular car was to prove the best of any car I was to own, with the possible exception of my present car. Saturns were absolutely wonderful cars. I had absolutely great experiences with Saturns, and I would have continued to purchase them had their quality and buying conditions remained available. Saturns were just too good to be true, which is probably while the US stopped manufacturing them.
I got almost 300,000 miles on my last Saturn. I would probably have exceeded 300,000, except for a fluke. The car began using oil, so I bought oil by the case to be sure I had a ready supply. I always bought whichever brand was cheapest.
Unfortunately, the last case I bought was unrefined motor oil. I was just looking at the price, nothing else. Who would have thought that an auto parts store would have unrefined motor oil stocked on its shelves? I had never remotely encountered unrefined motor oil.
I did notice when I poured a quart into the engine that it seemed quite thick. It was only then that I closely read the label, which told me the oil was unrefined, not to be used in engines manufactured after 1936! Oh well, dummy me thought, a thicker oil would probably not leak from the engine as fast. I suppose I was right in that respect; unfortunately, that quart of oil caused my poor dedicated Saturn’s engine to blow a head gasket. I had it repaired, but the poor car was never the same again, so . . .
There have since been other cars, some great, some duds. Dear Reader, I have learned the hard way before purchasing a car to get an informed opinion from a trusted mechanic and to buy, not for the looks, but for what’s under the hood.
People are much the same way. As I learned from Archie Campbell on Hee Haw, “Beauty is skin deep, but ugly goes right to the bone!”

ANSWER TO QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 55
Why do shoes come in pairs? (ANSWER: They’re sole mates.)

QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 56
What does Godzilla eat for breakfast? What does Godzilla eat for dinner? (See next week’s article in historicunioncounty.com for the answer.)

A JOKE FROM MY FRIEND MARY ROSE
I don’t get along very well with car keys. They’re always starting something.

DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN:
headlight dimmer switches were on the floor?
ignition switches were on the dashboard?
hand signals were used for cars without turn signals?
the gas fill was behind the rear license plate?
Studebakers were commonly on roadways?

ASK YOUR TEEN—If you could someday drive any car or truck you want, what would it be?