Saab Off

Goodness, is it that time already? Our Rusty Jones is so eager, so righteously aggressive in his fight to say Goodbye! to rusty cars that this time he was even here a day early. This black Saab was slated to get picked up by the junk guys on Wednesday; however when I called today to try to get an idea as to what time they might be around tomorrow, I was told, Oh hey, actually the guy's free this afternoon. Would that be okay?

Would it? Like they even have to ask. Silly junk guys.

Compared to a lot of the cars in the yard this Saab 900 was practically fresh from the showroom floor, being a 1988 model. Why that's only twenty-three years old!

Youth or no, however, it went. For Fate may not be cheated.

Here it is up on the ramp truck. As you can see, it's had a few parts picked off it, and those tires aren't exactly regulation; that back driver's side one being held on with a single bolt. Good thing it went on the truck itself and wasn't towed. (Note the appearance of Junk Guy Rob's left boot just there on the lower right.)


Before Tara left town (part of what is accounting for her crazy schedule this month) she cleaned it out; I believe it had been hers at one point, so it held a few remnants from her teenage years, such as the odd David Bowie cassette which had been roasting in the sun for godsknow how long and an awful lot of Doritos wrappers, as well as this charming vignette, located just behind the driver's seat:


Hey, works for me. Although, to be strictly honest, the 80s Average Joe look on the guy, while certainly subversive for him, just doesn't do a whole lot for me. I much prefer this look:


Mmmmmmmm. Tasty tasty scrawny glammy gothy draggy art boy goodness. Oh yum. Fruitcages and honeybees and heaven ahead in number eleven and all that marvellous May loveliness. Oh sigh...

Wait. I was talking about something. What was it now?

Oh right. Cars. My favorite. Grumble.

Here's the (more or less; this picture is from last year) before, from its spot over by the shed:


And the after, with the patch of dead grass it left:


So off it went; this time though Junk Guy Rob followed me, as the regular tow guy was on vacation, and he was subbing in from another location and hadn't actually been to the one in my town so didn't know where he was going. After the usual business with handing in the title (this one actually had one!) they cut me a check. Very nice.

So that puts Rusty's countdown at eight junk cars out, with eighteen left to go; three more and we'll have hit the halfway mark. Well, halfway as of this latest push, the one we started last summer. If you count it from the seventy-eight cars that were here in the 1990s, we're more than three-quarters done with the cars, down to about 23% of what was here. Which is pretty damned good, really.

It is getting there!