don't follow pat

The “Cash for Clunkers” program was a $3 billion initiative by the Obama administration to boost the U.S. out of the 2008 recession. It aimed to provide cash incentives for trading in old, less fuel-efficient vehicles (clunkers) to purchase newer more fuel-efficient ones.

The timing could not have been better as our son Jake’s old Toyota 4Runner qualified. And it was on its last leg. As a law student at the UW, he needed cash, and we were in the market for a new car. So, my wife Kate and I made plans to go out to the Honda dealership, to test drive new cars.

For some reason–perhaps in the spirit of buying a new car–I decided that it was time for me to go to the doctor to get a check-up. For the past few months, I had noticed a bump on my rib, and it was time to have it checked out. No big deal, but I decided not to tell anyone until the test was done.

On Friday night, I went with Kate to the Honda dealer, to close the deal on a really cool little car: the Honda Fit. With the $4,500 program rebate off the sticker price of only $16,500, we’d have our first new car ever for as little as $12,000. All we needed to do was comply with the countless pages of paperwork.

While we were meeting with the car salesman, I got a call from a strange number on my cell phone. I let it go, but stepped away to listen to the voicemail. It was my doctor. He said “Pat, I got the results from your x-ray. I have some good news, and bad news. Give me a call.” Gulp. I got a warm tingling feeling and felt nauseated.

I called immediately while Kate was filling out the paperwork. The good news? The bump on my rib was just a normal part of the rib. I had recently lost a few pounds, so maybe that was the reason that it showed up.

The bad news? There was a small, 7 mm “mass” in my right lung, that was suspicious. What he said next, I can’t recall. My mind was spinning, though I did catch that he was going to order another x-ray, and that I needed to come in the next week.

All of a sudden, I started feeling aches and pains that I had not noticed before. I was tempted to share my secret with Kate but decided that I’d wait to see what the chest x-ray showed the next week. And anyways, we had a clunker that we had to get rid of and a new car to buy!

Sitting down with the dealer, we decided to buy the Honda Fit. We made an appointment for the following Monday morning to bring out our “clunker,” and left to go home. Kate was beaming with excitement, and I was thinking about what might come next for me. Why bother getting a new car, if…? Suddenly, my weight loss was a symptom and not a success. Damn.

Jake was away for the weekend, but came home Sunday night. We rushed to get everything for the deal. But he couldn’t find the registration forms, and without them, NO DEAL!  We spent Monday rushing around, trying to get insurance records, title, and registration. He found out that the DMV could get a copy of the form, but it was closed for the day. We called the dealer, and asked if we could delay. She said, “maybe.”

Apparently, the Honda dealer was thinking of stopping the program on the next day! She said that if we came in first thing in the morning, we might be able to do this. If not, then the deal was off.

So, Jake dropped off the 4Runner, and promised to get a copy of the registration at 7:30 AM on Tuesday. He warned me as he left, saying “Dad, it sounds like the 4Runner is dying!”

I hopped in his 4Runner, to drive it into our driveway, but as I did, I heard a loud clunk, and the car would not move. I jumped out, and looked underneath the car. In all my years of working on old cars, I saw something that I could not believe!  The drive shaft, that connects the engine to the rear wheels, had broken loose and was wedged into a crack on the driveway. Argh! No deal!

I looked closer and saw that the cotter pin that connects the drive shaft to the engine had broken away. Although I could connect it, it was too loose and would just fall out. So, I used about 4 feet of 1-inch nylon strap, to wrap around the part of the receiver that was loose, and it seemed to hold the pin in place. I started the car, and carefully parked it on the road.

Monday night was another restless night, no longer thinking about the spot on my lung, I was thinking about how to drive the car from our house the 10 miles to the dealership, on the south edge of town.

Jake called at 8:01 Tuesday AM with good news. He was at the DMV and was first in line, and first out with a copy of the registration form. As soon as he was back, I climbed in the 4Runner, and drove down the hill to the stop sign, with Jake following in another car, close behind. So far, so good—the nylon strap was holding.  

Going barely 10 miles per hour, I was able to crawl out of our neighborhood, and take the back streets toward the dealership. I noticed that the entire car would start to shake violently if drove more than 15 MPH, so I crept along slowly.

As I was driving slowly along a road near Vilas Park, I noticed a Madison Police squad car following Jake, who was following me. Just then, “CLUNK!” and the car stopped dead. I jumped out, looked underneath, and saw the drive shaft hanging down, suspended by the frayed nylon strap.

I ran back to the police officer, and said “Officer, I am driving a clunker to the dealer, and the drive shaft just felt out of the car, again. My son is here, and I think that we can fix it, again.”

She looked me in the eye thinking, “Who is this guy?” She smiled and said, “Good luck,” as she drove around us. My heart was pounding and my head started to spin.

I went under the car again, and noticed that my repair had frayed around the edges. Luckily, I had another piece of nylon strap, so I wrapped it inside the part that holds the pin, and crossed my fingers.

This time, I kept the speed below 10 MPH, and Jake followed with his flashers on. We crawled up the bridge over the Beltline. Just then Kate called. She had driven to the dealer ahead of time to make sure that all the paperwork was in order. She whispered, “I am here at the dealer, and she said that she needs to drive the car to make sure that it is drivable.” That warm feeling came back.

We made it to the dealership, and the three of us sat in the chair across from the pleasant woman, as she went through the 30 pages of documents, checking forms, and making copies of all our records. Then she stood up, asked for the keys, and said “I need to drive the car for 1 mile. It says that right here in the rules.” As she walked out the door, I pictured her driving down the street and suddenly having the drive shaft drop out.

I rushed out to the car, and asked “Mind if I ride along? This car is in really bad shape, and you have to be careful driving it!”  She said “Sure,” so off we went. As she got to 20 MPH, the engine started to shake violently, and she backed off. “Boy, this car really does not like second gear!” “No,” I said, “I think it’s best to keep it in first!”

We crept along, exactly 0.50 miles down the frontage road. She turned the car around and crept back and parked in the stall. She looked at me and said “Well, this is the clunkiest clunker I’ve seen so far.” She picked up her pad, and checked the box that said, “Able to drive 1 mile.”

With that we signed the papers and I drove home in our first new car—a shiny black 2009 Honda Fit.

The next day, I was on my way to a funeral of the father of a good friend. Ironically, he had died from lung cancer. With all the stress from the Cash for Clunker program, I had forgotten about getting another x-ray to check out the spot on my lung.

So, I stopped at the clinic on the way to the funeral to have an x-ray. I got a call later that night from the doctor. “Good news. The x-ray was normal. The spot was just a shadow of your nipple. Have a great day.”

The country came out of the recession, and 17 years later we’re still driving our Honda Fit.