A 1999 Chevy Venture, to be precise.
I've come into possession of this relatively inoffensive iteration of the people-hauler persuasion due to needing to retire my [t]rusty 2000 Voyager. That thing was really starting to freak me out, what with the driveline shaking like a demon, all four struts were done, making it sound like an enormous metallic covered wagon on a washboard road. Did I mention the engine, likely due to the aging timing belt and the abuse mother Nature brings to vehicles in Saskatchewan, was making VERY expensive noises? Interference engines FTL.
Anyhoo, I took possession yesterday, and while it does have issues, they are certainly not game-stoppers, and they're relatively cheap to fix. The door panels hook on the door jamb occasionally, and the window regulators are humped, but I can always park and go in to Tim's to pick up my fix. there's a hesitation that is very occasional. It's due for a fuel filter replacement, and having experienced it before, it's mostly a matter of finding the damn vacuum leak. Much fun! -30C! Wow! So Cold!
It's rather nice to have a vehicle that doesn't sound like a Doomcore drum festival on acceleration, and like an un-balanced washer between 60-90Km/h. The behaviours of the TCS and ABS are occasionally alarming, but that's because I've successfully avoided decently appointed vehicles for the last decade, and I am accordingly un-used to the noises associated with a well maintained vehicle. Or lack thereof. It's weirdly disconcerting to start the vehicle and wait 5-10 seconds before stabbing at the throttle because you're not qquite sure whether it even started in the first place. It's so quiet...
I can listen to music! Y'know, for OEM-model stereos, Delco's were pretty bad-ass in the '90's - the Delco unit in my Isuzu could tune in CITR 101.9 in Vancouver, BC from Chilliwack. Something aftermarket stereos have ALWAYS failed me on.
But this... locking the damn doors the very millisecond I move the gear lever to "R" or "D", the entire van needs to switch all the locks into Cell-Block Lockdown.
It's Saskatoon, not fuckin' Chicago.
I can lock my own fucking doors.