Just a quick note on my latest car troubles and how wonderful my girlfriend is.
Returning from the Crosby Stills and Nash show in Cleveland, the '93 945t was making a horrible racket. Clanking at idle...very worrisome. Made it home around 2AM, crashed, and in the morning thought, "No problem, let the GF drive the '90 244 to work", I head off to the magician/mechanic in the 945, clanking and praying that I make it. Good luck, the mechanic is in at 8:30 AM so he can hear the god awful racket and get just as worried as me. Rod knock or valve lifter is preliminary diagnosis. Hoping it's not a death rattle.
Bus into the office, get call that the source of the noise is a broken flywheel, cracked at all four bolts. Odd, worrisome, but not a death sentence. Whew. Good time to get the RMS replaced as well!
4:45 PM, GF calls me to say the 240 won't start. She's stuck at work, 20 miles away. Crap. This is why I have two cars, so one can back up the other when they break. Having both broken at the same time was not part of the plan.
Call mechanic, get troubleshooting advice, (smack fuel pump relay) call GF, relay the relay advice. No joy.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I'm waiting for another bus to go back to town to catch a train to get to where GF is so that we can both make the return trip, when she calls to say that she smacked the fuel pump relay harder and it started.
She's offically an Old Volvo Owner.
Add that to her other skills, and I think I'm a lucky guy. ;-)