What happens when you follow the siren song of Silicon Valley and relocate there from Sweden to take on a high-tech job? Why, you're forced to leave your beloved '67 Volvo Duett behind!

This is what happened with my friend Jeanette. I met her during a summer I spent in quasi-rural southern Sweden, back when I was 17, and her family's farm was strewn with all manner of weird-ass Swedish vehicles. Her father is one of those dudes who isn't satisfied unless he has several hundred ill-advised Hell Projects going at once (I'm not even going to get started on the ocean-going, Volvo-diesel-powered ship he was welding up from scratch in the barn, except to state that he did finish it… after 25 years of work), and he found it impossible to resist a forlorn Duett wagon that had been cast aside as obsolete by the Swedish Army. See that hatch on the roof? That's for a freakin' Swedish machine gunner to stand in! Could anything possibly be cooler than a station wagon built to enable some hulking Swedish private to stand up in the passenger seat and start blasting the treeline as the ol' Volvo jolts through the snowdrifts?

Right. So, Jeanette ended up with the Duett, which served her well as she roamed the country going to various black metal festivals and so on (she hung out with the guys who eventually became Soilwork), but then she moved to California, settled down to raise a family, the whole deal. Now she misses her car, no doubt in the same way Erik The Red missed his favorite Viking ship, but she's had enough experience with the California DMV to dread the bureaucratic nightmare involved with getting it registered here.

The Duett was sold in the United States- not in huge numbers, but you can find them- so she should be able to find a substitute that already has its papers in order… but it wouldn't be the same. What should she do?