Thursday, July 27, 2000

New Saturn

If all goes as planned, around 1 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, I will take delivery of my new-ish car, a 1997 Saturn SL2, a dark, regally green sedan bearing only 34,000 miles and a three-year bumper-to-bumper warranty. By 5 p.m., I shall have acquired and had installed the requisite stereo, security system and -- Visa balance allowing -- chassis-mounted laser cannon and oil slick generator. (On sale at Best Buy this weekend, $99.95 after mail-in rebate, or so I'm told.)

This vehicle will be the fifth of the BradMobiles, supplanting the current 1992 Saturn which, having acquired nearly 109,000 miles in my employ, deserves to be put out to stud. The fourth of my mongrel automotive lineage is the only one I never officially named, although it was often referred to as "noble steed."

My first two cars were both Renault Alliances (what was I thinking?!), named Herbie (ibid?!) and Wembley, respectively. The third, purchased when I was doing a lot of commuting between two summer stock theatres some 400 miles apart and schlepping all sorts of junk in both directions, was a Ford Aerostar. By virtue of its size, compared to the Renaults, it was dubbed "Brutus".

I haven't picked a name for the new wheels as yet; an appropriate moniker for any inanimate acquisition generally suggests itself within the first tew weeks of our relationship. There seems to be an informal three-month window, though, whereafter if a car, computer or other major appliance has not been given a nom de plume, it is destined to have only nicknames, likely transient ones, for all time.