Swapping a Lemon for an Orange

My poor black Malibu. Racing up and down the Northway, the Mass Pike, I-90 and all over Albany plus packing her to the hilt with heavy video equipment. She turned over 100,000 miles a few months ago and since then has been crumbling to pieces.

First, the heater core decided to wage war with my mechanic and was never fixed. Rather than breath dangerous toxic fumes, I donned extra layers and a thick wool blanket to keep warm on a recent drive to Buffalo. The windows stayed cracked just in case residual smells leaked in. The cabin was a biting 38 degrees all the way there and back.

Second, the car battery died on the crowded streets of New York last week. The four way flashers are notorious for draining the battery when the car is turned off, even after only a few minutes. But strangers become friends when they see a damsel in distress and rush to help.

Third, the fuse died on the cigarette lighter leaving me without a GPS, cell, battery charger and I-Pod. Try finding 25 random venues throughout Rochester without a map.

And the list goes on and on and on.

Finally, on Friday, I had a few minutes before another journey to NYC, dragging the sputtering beast into Orange Motors, for a fair trade.

In less than an hour I buried the Chevy for a sporty cobalt blue Mazda 5 hatchback. A working heater, reliable battery and not 1 but 2 cigarette lighters, this is my first foreign car and I'm back on track to let the good times roll.