All Hail to Dee's Automotive, the Aura of Coach Nielson, and the Traveling Grandma Taxi

A long time ago I had a Thunderbird.

It was Rust Orange.

It was built by my father.

It had an engine in it from some other vehicle (I don't recall) that had been turned on end to make it work.

Pretty talented.

I parked it on the roads of Provo. An amazing feat. I may not have much prowess, but parallel parking prowess is truly mine.

But it died on the road.

A lot.

And, traumatized, I applied for a new vehicle.

This was a Nissan Sentra.

We call her Viv. As in, Vivaldi. As in, the Four Seasons. As in, she makes a new sound for every season.

For the past two years, she has determined to make Safety Inspections as difficult as possible.

Along with the dealership. I think they were in cahoots.

So, last year, under Coach Nielson's advice, we took her to Dee's Automotive. And she passed by the skin of her teeth.

And this year, I took her again.

And I worried.

And I fretted.

And I contemplated disavowing all knowledge of her when they called to say they'd fixed her without asking me about any prices.

"Um, a Nissan Sentra? I don't have a Nissan Sentra."

But when I walked up to the counter they handed her over to me with a pass grade, and for only $150 (which, when you consider the dealership's $100s, and complete inability to produce a pass grade, is a lovely idea).

Sigh.

Yes, sigh.

Sigh of relief.

I am so happy.