How the RBO got its R back.

It occurred to Michele and me while we were sitting in the nonfunctional Rolling Blue Oven last Saturday that the RBO, at that moment, was neither B nor O, and only unhelpfully R. The blue was mostly masked by a skin of road-salt, and some of it has been eroded by rust. And the poor car can't be an oven when the atmosphere it inhabits is below zero, so it more resembled an icebox than an oven.

And the rolling was compromised. I could move in reverse just fine, but any forward motion would require a Barney-Rubble accelerator kit, as the car was stuck in reverse.

So now we had a number of new letters for a clever acronym. S can be road salt, R is now rust, and I stands for icebox. And I can only call its limited mobility useless. Instead of an RBO, I was in possession of a USRI. A useless, salty, rusty icebox.

RBO sounds better, though. And this weekend it got its R back.

The guys at Auto Shop told me that I had a broken shifter-cabley thing, and that they could fix said shifter-cabley thing for just over $330. Father-In-Law said he could handle it for much cheaper. And he did. Fixed it in just a few hours. He's good at the car-fixing.

So now I'm driving a RSRI. I think. I could pronounce it "Rosary." But a rosary is a prayer, or an object that helps keep track of prayers. It's not an object that necessitates prayers. Owned by an atheist, no less.