When Is A Lemon Not A Lemon ...?

Have you ever bought a lemon? I do not mean that little yellow acid fruit that people use to corrupt a perfectly good glass of iced tea. No, I am referring to a lemon automobile. The dictionary defines a lemon automobile as, “ … one that is unsatisfactory or defective.”

I have been fortunate in never having paid out hard-earned money for one of those below-par jalopies. Perhaps I have gotten hold of a couple of sour grape cars in my lifetime. But no lemons. I define a sour grape car as one that is several notches better off than a lemon car. In other words, a car that is not a lemon but one that you complain about constantly for no good reason. Sometimes a person just needs someone or something to blame for a bad day. Sour grape cars are good at playing that role.

On the other hand have you ever owned a car that performed much better than you expected? I have and bragging rights accompany the ownership of such a vehicle.

In 1996, I bought a brand new Ford Taurus sedan and gave it to my wife. She drove that Ford all around Houston until 2003. Then I bought her a brand new Nissan Maxima. She appreciated the Maxima so much that she gave the Taurus to me. I still am driving that car even though in dog years, it is older than I am.

We have driven that Taurus more than 172,000 miles but never have taken it outside of the Houston area. The brakes are original. The engine and transmission are original. The air-conditioner never has been serviced and still blows cold air during the hot summertime. The only features on that car that have called it quits are the windshield washer and the heater.

The washer is in working order but the rubber hose leading from the cleanser reservoir to the windshield has rotted away. I’ve been planning to have this hose replaced but keep on saying, “ … first thing next week.”

I bought two small heaters that are designed to plug into the cigarette lighter. I use a spilt socket and can run both heaters simultaneously. So in the cold of winter, I mount one of the heaters on my dash to keep the windshield defrosted. I place the second heater down on the floorboard between my feet. With this arrangement I have been able to forego the expensive repair of replacing the heater core.

The old Taurus used to have a very unique characteristic. I did a lot of freeway driving in and around Houston. When I drove 60 to 65 MPH into the wind, the Ford began a loud humming sound. At first, this was annoying but then I started playing around with the sound. As I drove faster, the whistling increased in pitch. Conversely, as I slowed down, the pitch lowered. I discovered that I could sing duets with the car. Our best song was the old church hymn entitled, “Oh Happy Day.” When my wife was riding with me, we sang trios. I suspect that any driver following behind me wondered why I would speed up to 70 MPH only to slow down to 50 MPH then back to 70.

For some reason the old car doesn’t sing anymore and I miss that. Maybe it grew too old and lost its voice. Who knows? Anyway, the radio still works and that keeps me going.

I know that someday, maybe sooner than later, the old Taurus will pull to the side of the road and breathe its last. But until that day, it’s …

Just like the Mississippi River, the old Ford just, “ … keeps rollin’ along.”

Winston Hamby
WinHamby@comcast.net