They told daisy_knotwise last night when she called to ask about the van that they'd call around ten this morning.

Of course, they didn't. She ended up calling them around 11:15 and was told they were "just finishing it up". We have the van back and will be taking it over to Meineke for them to check out early next week.

Then we'll find out who owes who an apology.

daisy_knotwise took the van in to the dealership (which has been sold since we bought the van) for some recall work. The dealership called back with a list of $1900 worth of work that the van needs that isn't covered by the extended warranty. They also claim that the silly tire pressure sensor -- which would be covered by the warranty -- is working, although the folks at Meineke (who we actually do trust) have told us it is burnt out.

We have declined the interesting work list and will be taking the van to Meineke at our earliest opportunity to find out what they think it needs.

It's a shame, because this is the dealer closest to our home, but I'm being pretty unimpressed at the moment. Maybe more data will change my mind.

Maybe not.

Update: We'd called after lunch to see how the work was coming and were told that they'd call back when the work was done. When we didn't get a call by late afternoon, Gretchen called back and was told that the service department was closed, the car was waiting for parts, and that the service guys had called and left a message to that effect on our answering machine.

Exactly which answering machine that would be is a mystery to us, as there's no message on the home phone or either of our two cellphones.

Keep digging, guys.

As I slowly catch up on the various events of the weekend now that we've returned home:

When fleetfootmike and I arrived at the dealership to retrieve my I-Pass, it turned out that the car was fixed, because the problem was a battery that had died in a fashion that I'd never seen before. Apparently, it had died so suddenly and so catastrophically that it couldn't even be jumped to start the car. This seemed odd to me, but the car has run fine so far.

It seems that the flashing console lights are an indication of a bad battery. It would be ever so much better if this were documented somewhere that I could find in the owner's manual. I suspect that several other Ford products may have this entertaining failure mode, so any of my friends who see this should be advised.

After turning the rental car back in, we headed off to Fry's where much shopping was accomplished -- by Mike. I bought a $5 flash card reader in the hope that it might help me get the pictures off the Nikon. And then we finally proceeded off to Duckon.

The car is now at Elmhurst Lincoln-Mercury and I have a Ford Fusion which I'm thinking of as an extended test drive. It would probably work, but we'll see how I feel as the weekend goes by. :)

Over dinner after rehearsal, the conversation turned briefly to my family's first car, a 1955 Dodge, probably the Coronet model, and definitely with a less snazzy paint job than you'll see at the link. Our car was white. And white. And more white.

We drove that car from before I was born until we were ready to come back from Guam in 1964, when my dad sold it to an airman who was looking for what was turning into a bit of a beater by that point. But that's what the ravages of three kids and a dog can do to a car.

There was the time when we lived in Kansas and were crossing the Arkansas River. Now this was long before kids had to be strapped into car seats, so my sister and I were in the back seat and my baby brother was safely tucked between my dad and my mom in front. This would have been just fine, except that the shift lever for the automatic transmission was horizontally mounted in the middle of the dash. This put it in perfect range for baby brother Mitch to kick the car into reverse gear.

Fortunately, my dad was paying attention as the car lurched backwards and shifted us back into drive before we could either get hit by traffic or find the edge of the bridge. I do suspect that was the last time that Mitch rode in the center front seat of that car.

My father was a man of interesting theories. (Stop laughing, daisy_knotwise!) One such theory said that if you're making a trip from Kansas to Illinois with three kids and an Irish Setter, the place to put the Irish Setter is in the trunk of the car. Well, it was a big trunk.

I'm sure that Scott the Irish Setter wasn't thrilled by this. I mean, the people were all up there, while he was in this black hole.

Did you know that an Irish Setter can push his head through the cardboard behind the backseat so that it's sitting in the rear window like a little bobblehead? Of course, the kids were delighted to be able to pet the dog. The dog was delighted to be able to see what was going on.

My dad, maybe not so much.