When a Horse Breaks a Leg, You Shoot It

So when my car's transmission goes kapoot, can I push it in front of a train and collect the insurance money?

Sigh...

So Meg's driving back from the libray today after harvesting a trove of mystery thrillers, cruising along State Line Avenue, and suddenly it's there. The noise. And vibration. And sickening loss of vehicular momentum. Whatever nuerons that are suppose to fire between the gas pedal and the speedometer just went dead, and so did the car. Oh, the engine whined along just fine, but someone the get-up-and-go got up and went.

So Meg makes it home, limping, and I come out to investigate. The shift slips easily into drive. But no forward motion. Reverse. But no backward motion. You get the idea. And that sound! Imagine a blender full of marbles on high speed. And every few seconds, the car lurches forward in a pathetic attempt to move. Sort of like a squirrel whose hind leg has been hit by a speeding car. Sad, sad, sad.

So there she sits in the driveway. Tomorrow, we take her in. We'll either patch her up, and put her out to pasture, whichever is cheaper.