Breaking news! My 2002 Oldsmobile Intrigue, which cost me $1,728.86 in mechanic bills to keep running in 2024, has already cost me an additional $1,254.43 in the first six weeks of 2025 alone (for valve gasket covers, power window assembly switch, and wheel bearings). And it *still* needs that new set of tires. This is becoming a problem.

My first car, by which I mean the first car to which I held the title, was a 1985 Crown Victoria Country Squire station wagon. Mom gave it to me when I went to college. (She bought herself a Mazda Miata. Mid-life crisis much?) I drove it until the transmission broke. It wasn't the only thing on the car not working, and I made the decision to sell it rather than spend thousands I did not have to repair it. We all loved it, and in hindsight, I might have done things differently, but maybe not. I'm sure I really thought I was making the best decision I could at the time.

My second car was a used 1990 Honda Acura. It soon developed a leaky sun roof that was more expensive to repair than the Country Squire's transmission. I didn't fix it, either. Eventually the cabin smelled of mildew which I tried to hide with vanilla air fresheners. You can begin to understand why my fourth car was an open-top 1995 Jeep Wrangler.

(Honorable mention to my third car, a very '90s burgundy and beige pregnant egg, a 1992 Chevrolet Caprice Classic, which I inherited from my late grandmother. I didn't keep it long before selling it to my father after he wrecked whatever his latest car was. I borrowed it back from him for a 24-hour road-trip down to Jacksonville for a Jaguars/Dolphins Monday Night Football game on October 12, 1998. That trip is most memorable for B) the terrible headache I had on the entire 8-hour drive home because my poverty and anxiety kept me from stopping to get anything to eat, and A) my yelling "I'm going to kill him" at the highway patrolman who pulled us over for a broken taillight. The "him" in this case was Dad, who had assured me the car was in perfect condition for driving, but the cop certainly didn't know that. Thankfully, my companion on that trip, Matt, has always been a fast talker, and we're both white.)

The point here is that I really need to start thinking about throwing in the towel on the Oldsmobile. Is it time I draw a line in the sand? How much is too much? If I have to be spending so much money on a car, I'd rather be spending it on the Jeep.

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Note to future Walter: Mom has owned a Ford Escape for six years. At the end of the first three years, the battery died, and I replaced it. It was a total pain in the ass.

In their infinite wisdom, Ford decided to hide the battery deep under the cowling for the windshield wipers, which means that the wiper assembly has to be disassembled before the battery can be removed. Because of the amount of labor involved, my local Advance Auto Parts refused to do it.

I mention all that now only because it's been three years, and the battery died again, and I was wondering how long it had been since the last time I had this particular pain in my ass. Apparently I didn't mention it here on Wriphe.com at the time. I guess I thought I'd remember. (That was awfully careless of you, past Walter!) Therefore, I post this here so that when I look back from 2028, I can see when I last had this particular pain in my ass.

For the record, Mom's beaux changed the battery this time, and he did it by removing the air cleaner assembly in front of the battery instead of trying to take the wiper assembly apart. He says it was a total pain in the ass.

Maybe in 2028, we should just have it towed to a mechanic.

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Took my car to the mechanic, walked in the front door, said to the receptionist, "I'm Walter Stephens," and she said "I know who you are."

Which suggests that it's time I start thinking about getting a new car.

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A quick search reveals that I've never explicitly mentioned here on the blog that I have long owned the same two cars. I have the 1995 Jeep, which is the last year the YJ model was available. You've met it; I love and brag my Jeep about frequently. But I also own a 2002 Oldsmobile Intrigue. Two-thousand two also happens to be the final year of Intrigue production. (I'm a niche collector!) As my previous silence about it should indicate, I do not love the Olds.

True story: it was my father's Oldsmobile. Briefly. It was actually purchased by my father's father, who bragged that he got a great deal on it. As I mentioned above, 2002 was the final year this car was made, and the reason it was a great deal is because the electrical systems of Intrigues are famously... sorry, I was trying to think of a diplomatic way of saying "crappy," but no, it doesn't deserve diplomacy; it's just crappy.

When my grandfather was no longer able to drive (I forget when, exactly, but 2009/10-ish), my father took the car. The one condition that my grandfather tried to impose was that under no circumstances was Dad to give the car to me. So now maybe you can understand my template for how to treat a father.

Anyway, it may have taken 22 years, but at long last, my very temperamental Oldsmobile has successfully reached 100,000 miles!

And it's only cost me $1,360.93 in repairs in the past 4 months! And it needs a new set of tires, so cut me a little slack about that "low washer fluid" idiot light. Car ownership is expensive.

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As you may recall, I destroyed Mom's 2012 Kia Optima back at the beginning of August. Replacing it has turned out to be a bit of an uphill journey.

After a month of insurance negotiations and car shopping, Mom picked out a 2017 Nissan Murano the first weekend in September. (She was looking at a model with a heated steering wheel, and I talked her into saving $5000 by buying a slightly different car. As you will see, I should have kept my mouth shut.)

The Murano had all the safety features she wanted plus luxury to spare. Unfortunately, it also had problems. We only had it for two weeks when I discovered rust under the dashboard (and under the driver's seat, and behind the rear seats, and around the spare tire . . .). It took Nissan another month to declare the problem a factory defect. Eventually, Mom negotiated a buyback under Georgia's Lemon Law. Goodbye, sweet Murano.

(On a related note, we're selling a set of black WeatherTech® floor mats for a 2017 Murano, if anyone is in the market.)

Mom started her car search over from the beginning. She still wanted safety features, but she never got used to driving such a large SUV. So she got something smaller instead. Introducing Mom's 2018 Ford Escape!

I promise you, I've been over the whole car with a magnifying glass. There's a scratch on the interior of the driver's side headlight cover, but I can't find anything else wrong with it. It certainly isn't rusted. (And it does have a heated steering wheel.)

The Escape only has a three-year warranty on the interior electronics, so if I'm going to ruin this one, I need to act fast. I'll keep you posted.

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Earlier today I had to run some errands. Despite the cool weather, I decided to take the Jeep because it hadn't been out of the garage in a few weeks. Turns out, that was a bad idea.

The Jeep had been drydocked because its left turn signal was out. I had tried replacing the bulb that wasn't coming on, the left fender light, but that hadn't solved the problem. Most people would probably have taken their car to the mechanic. Not Walter. I decided to solve the problem myself.

The contacts were corroded in the 20-year-old bulb fixture, so I figured that was the likely problem. I bought a replacement part, pulled the old fixture, reconnected the wiring, and put it all back together. It still didn't flash for turns, but it did come on for hazards. So I replaced the flasher relay. That didn't fix it either.

It was at this point that I realized that one of the parking lights wasn't working correctly. It blinked with the hazards, but stayed off when the headlights were on. Swapping the two parking-light bulbs caused the left flasher to work and the right to fail. Voila! The whole problem was indeed a bad bulb, just not the one I originally suspected.

As I said, after all that, I finally took the Jeep out on the street. It felt great to be driving it again. I turned on the right blinker as I pulled up to a right turn . . . and I got rear ended.

The good news is that the rear lights were indeed working. The lady who hit me just wasn't paying enough attention. It was a minor fender bender that will cost about $70 to fix. (Bulbs and rewiring the front end had cost $80.) I gave thanks that it hadn't been worse, and went about my business.

On the way home, I hit a deer.

I didn't take a picture of that. (Terrorists don't deserve the recognition.)

For the record, I did get the message. This just isn't the year for me and automobiles. The Jeep is going to stay safely in the garage until 2018.

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For reference, this was the "other guy."

Like I said, not a scratch.

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Oops.

I'd say "you should see the other guy," but his truck didn't take a scratch. Some people are lucky that way.

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In a recent commercial, Cadillac brags about how clever their engineers are about considering the impact of a raindrop on a windshield at 190 MPH. Rather than marvel at the ability of Cadillac's engineers, this made me wonder why the hell Cadillac would plan to build a car that went 190 MPH in the first place.

Cadillac is advertising their $70,000 CTS-V as the "world's fastest production sedan." I ask you, who the hell needs a sedan of any sort capable of 100 MPH, much less 190 MPH? Should you find a place to avoid any potential traffic, no public road in the United States of America even has a speed limit greater than 80 MPH. That's less than half of Cadillac's advertised top speed -- HALF! Cadillac is advertising a vehicle to the general public that cannot be legally utilized in any public space. And this from a company still 27% owned by the American public.

To put this ridiculous waste of a power in perspective, an average tractor-trailer has a 500 horsepower motor. The Cadillac CTS-V advertises 556 horsepower. Why does the Cadillac need that much power? To accelerate from 0-60 in 3.9 seconds of course. Numbers like that make this a very valuable car for spies in action movies, but not so much for the real world. When was the last time that anyone needed a 4-door car that could peel out of a parking lot like a jet fighter? Someone tell the kids to hold on back there.

Since Cadillac is already recklessly marketing their reckless car to rich people who like to drive too fast, it's my advice to you, any policeman who might be reading this, to ticket the hell out of anyone you see driving a Cadillac CST-V. Odds are that if he bought this car he intends to speed in it, and he certainly has money to waste.

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What hates cars more than Superman, the Man of Steel? Superman, the Truck of Monster!

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