How did they come up with the name Saturn?  Is it because they make cars that are exotic and beautiful?  Are they out of this world?  You be the judge.

My Saturn holds for me a distinct set of memories.  Some I would rather not speak of again while others bring hearty laughter.  But now the time has come for me to say goodbye to the old sedan and try to make a buck from its carcass.  Too harsh?

Let me take you back to 2010.  We were painfully unaware of what was coming our way in the future years.  Cyberdyne Systems, Skynet, Judgment Day.  But that’s another story. In my little world, my academic career was nearing an end.  I was about to start my last clinical rotations and then graduate as the kind of doctor people refuse to recognize.  All those many years of intense study and people still ask me if I went to a vocational school or if I have an Associate’s degree.  I’m not sure whether to blame them or myself.  

But this was before I started receiving those comments, back when I was still taking out student loans, before I had to start paying them back.  I was in search of a cheap used car and I was dreading the prospects.  I had an expectation of paying more than I wanted to for a car that would have too many miles and that would be unreliable.  But then my fellow textbook buddy (new term for classmate I’ve been working on), mentioned her brother was trying to get rid of his old Saturn.  

I took that beauty for a spin, the wind whipping out my coat.  It was like driving a classic American muscle car.  The engine roared, the car felt like a living, breathing animal. Okay, to be honest, it felt like a boring sedan with a constant and slightly disconcerting vibration that permeated through everything in the car.  It had been in a minor accident that bent the hood just enough to cause the constant vibrational disturbance.  It’s not like I had a lot of options and it really was the best thing available to me suiting the price, mileage, and needs I had.  So what if there was no unique feeling to driving the thing, unless you count the tremors as unique.  And the car had the lowest standard amenities like manual locks, manual windows, and manual seats.  I’m actually surprised it had power steering and a CD player.  To sum up how I felt upon purchasing it, I would invoke the words of Bruce Springsteen, “You ain’t a beauty, but hey, you’re alright.  And that’s alright with me.”

I feel like I shouldn’t write beyond his words.  It feels like when that chick tried to take the Holy Grail beyond the Great Seal in Indiana Jones.  But since I am at least as dumb as her, I am going to keep plowing through ham-handedly.

Now it’s time to explore the experiences I had in that car; the good, the bad, and the annoying.  The AC went out, the mechanic tried to fix it, but it went out again within days.  I brought it back to the mechanic who eventually said they couldn’t get the AC to work with new parts and would have to try used parts.  Not sure if he was a real mechanic.  The joint where the axle meets the wheel was destroyed which was technically my fault since I slid off the road when there was a glaze of ice covering the surface that I did not anticipate.  I had to get the timing belt replaced.  And then things really went downhill.  The car started shuddering and jumping when I would try to accelerate.  Not all the time, but way more often than anyone would be comfortable with.  And the car would idle at high RPMs.  When I would stop and the car would be idling, I felt like an idiot who watched too many of the Fast and Furious movies and felt the need to act like he was constantly in a drag race.  I would start my car up in the grocery store parking lot and heads would turn as the car revved up to 3000 RPM.  So I had to either embrace the ordeal and act like I was that guy or be embarrassed and try to get away as quick as possible.  My mechanic attempted to fix this issue, but was not successful.  Either he was a crappy mechanic or he had not learned to tame the wild Saturn.

Eventually, I started having some serious issues with the car overheating.  If I would idle for more than 5 to 10 seconds, the temp would climb and climb until smoke starting pouring out of the hood.  The first time it happened, I pulled into a space in a parking lot and noticed a pile of fluid under the car.  I got towed and the car had to be repaired because the coolant reservoir had basically exploded.  Thinking the trouble was resolved, I drove the car and to my great surprise, it continued to overheat.  So I played a game of trying to avoid having to stop at lights by timing them perfectly, using lots of coolant to replenish the tank as it overheated and eventually I got to a point where I would literally turn my car off at stop lights.  A different mechanic gave me a story about my radiator fan malfunctioning and wanted to fix it for over $300.  I politely declined his offer and decided to do something very stupid.  I decided to fix it myself.

Let me list the few things I can confidently do regarding car repair and maintenance:Washing and waxing, adding oil or washer fluid, checking the oil, jumping a dead battery, and filling my gas task.

I don’t do car repairs.  I don’t know the names for most of the parts under the hood or how they work.  I don’t understand the questions the people at stores like AutoZone ask me.

With a lot of fighting, yelling, and general mean spirits, my wife and I got a used radiator fan and installed it.  The car stopped overheating.  But then my power steering went out for 2 or 3 days until I considered checking the fluid level and added fluid which fixed that.  Then, the air conditioner went out again.  I considered fixing this myself, but reading stupid forums about it got me so scared that something was going to explode while I was doing the repair, I thought about ways I could create a personal bomb suit and shielding system to protect myself.  I never got comfortable with the idea of wearing a bunch of layers of sweatpants and winter coats, a bike helmet and swim goggles, and using a couch cushion as a shield.  I came to the conclusion I was not Jeremy Renner from Hurt Locker.

And on a beautiful October morning, my wife and I had to split duties.  I would take our youngest son to the doctor while she took our oldest son to his soccer game.  She decided I should take the van and she would take my car.  When we both got home, she said we needed to go look for a new car.  Really?  I had been telling her for months that I really needed to move on to a different car.  I was driving about 250 miles a week in the shuddering, jumping, hot, rumbling, piece of engineering.  She drives the car literally one time for a total of 30 minutes and now she agrees we needed to look a different car.  Well, isn’t that nice?

Hell, I almost left out the story about my wife leaving our dog in the car while we went into the store and she left a dirty diaper in the backseat and when we came back out the dog had eaten and shredded the thing all over the back of the car.  It smelled for weeks after that incident.

I am offering this car (at a small price) to anyone who still finds an interest in owning such an important piece of  history.  It still drives, though obviously not comfortably or well.  If no one wants it, I will take it to the junkyard to be euthanized.  This is your last chance to own a unique piece of machinery that will build character and test your own limits.  I feel it might do well at a demolition derby or it could be blown up in a blockbuster film.  Do what you will.