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The following is a true personal Saab story that I have long wanted to get off my chest. Maybe you'll find it inspiring, maybe interesting, maybe overdramatic, or maybe just plain weird or stupid, but if anyone can understand it, it's the readers of Saabnet :-)
Like most stories, this one begins because of a girl. More specifically, about 3 years ago my longtime girlfriend whom I dearly loved suddenly decided out of the blue that she would rather be with someone else. Sparing specifics, suffice to say I took it very hard. Shortly thereafter, as if things weren't bad enough as they were, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder. Thankfully, it wasn't too serious, but it has been something that necessitated several lifestyle adjustments and sapped my once limitless energy. As an avid runner, cyclist, and tennis player, it was simply devastating to me that I could no longer enjoy these activities as I did all my life.
These were dark days, and I plunged into a severe depression. Sure, there were a few friends and relatives who reached out and offered help. But there was also hope from a more unexpected place. Yes, you knew it was coming. Saab. The perpetual tragic hero of the automotive world. Yes, I have owned/driven BMWs, Audis, Mercs, Jags, Lexii, and Porsches at one time or another. But none had elicited the same kind of feelings as my 9-5 Aero wagon did. I will not go into exact details or what its strengths are because I'm sure many of you know what I'm talking about. It is like attractiveness or beauty; it cannot be explained. Whenever I came back to the Saab after driving another car (often newer and supposedly better), it felt like coming back home, where everything is familiar, orderly, and warm. The twist of the center-mounted key, the way the seat hugs you in all the right places, the terrific visibility, the smooth visually pleasing wraparound dash, the mid-range torque, the waffle air vents, and even the motion of the little turbo gauge as I modulate the throttle all made for a compelling reason to get up in the morning.
Yes, there were mechanical troubles. Yes, I was even stranded a couple times. No, it did not matter, I enjoyed the challenge. Whenever I had a bad day or wasn't feeling well, I would just go in the garage, and tinker with something, maybe clean the interior, or the wheels, or change the oil, or the emblem for the 20th time, or figure out a better impromptu solution to that darn hose at the rear of the throttle body that keeps popping off. I didn't just enjoy driving the Saab, I enjoyed working on it as well.
But this is not all. I read every book I could find on the Saab brand and its history. I signed up for a Saab Club of North America membership and also enjoyed connecting with fellow Saab enthusiasts in my community, making every effort to attend all the scenic drives and convoys they organized. I cannot say enough about how friendly everyone (and I do mean everyone) has been and, unbeknownst to them, how big of an impact their cordiality had on me.
So there it is. I'm still single, my autoimmune disease is still present (although slowly improving) and my Saab is of course still in the garage. I'm honestly still unsure how an inanimate assortment of metal, rubber, and cheap GM-sourced plastic parts managed to have such a profound impact on my life.
So my 9-5 doesn't do 0-60 in under 4 seconds and it doesn't have a dual-clutch transmission or Bluetooth or satellite radio or whatever the hell people are looking for these days, but isn't saving someone's life more important?
And I didn't even have to be in an accident in order to experience it.
posted by 72.132.91...
4
, Wed, 18 Apr 2018 14:28:43, Mon, 16 Apr 2018 17:45:201
, Mon, 16 Apr 2018 16:51:101
, Mon, 16 Apr 2018 11:47:32
, Mon, 16 Apr 2018 09:36:231, Mon, 16 Apr 2018 08:41:12, Sun, 15 Apr 2018 20:01:12
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