About a month ago on 580 my aged Volvo XC70 decided it was time to go meet its maker and had a random stoppage. I managed to get off the Freeway and waited hours till the car could be towed to Model Garage. Eventually it happened and a couple of days later Robert called with the bad news- brain death, the computer had died. Or in car language, a massive brain failure. He tried every method including radical infusion from used parts suppliers to a Canadian (believe it) company that reanimates brain dead computers. Days go by and those failed. Robert, a Volvo expert and in my opinion a stubborn car scientist with deep Volvo beliefs, asked me to hang on while he tried various surgical efforts. More days go by and neighbors report strange lights glowing on top of Model Garage with masked people chanting and working late as well as power outages. I ignore it as Berkeley pot (sorry) induced or magic mushroom rantings. Meanwhile I called my priest and organized a wake and send off for the car. After all, all it wanted was to go meet and hang out with its brethren (sorry only masculine refs) in Volvo heaven. It was not to be, Robert called me, I dodged the call knowing it was death, I told my brother in SF to get prepared for a wake. Robert called again, dodged again but eventually I called back and pretended I did not hear the phone. He had succeeded with a brain transplant! huh! is he today's the Volvo Dr Frankenstein? we cannot be sure, the report of strange glows over his garage and power outages is corroborating evidence. I was worried. How would the car behave? he supplied some evidence. It needed an extra key, supplied by a secret Volvo Key Master, a key forged from unknown metal alloys. It needed to be used to start the "car" while the original key had to be present inside the car. This was not comforting. I picked it up a few days later, my bank account lightened, and immediately noticed a growl from the engine. Hello! this was new and as was the driver's side window that rolled up and down when the button was pressed to close it. (Here I indulge in poetic license, this happened before as well but makes for a good story, but one has to be honest...) I decide not to risk becoming a part of a Viking's funeral. What if I parked it in my garage and it burned down along with my apartment? It has been on the street for a few days for observation. I noticed the door was unlocked one day but the alarm was on. How? the research continues. I suspect Robert and his team have learned some dark arts for reanimating Volvos. Just a word to the wise to use caution...
Thank you Gary. Not exactly sure what to say other than it is always our pleasure. I hope our next encounter is less exciting the this one was. Robert, Model Garage.
- The Model Garage