Posted on 11/29/2004 1:59:05 PM PST by Clive
My fella and I were going out of town. He was driving his "super reliable" car into which he pours nothing less than premium gas and synthetic oil and which, incidentally, is so much better and safer than my car that the two can never even be compared.
To boot, his car just got a tune-up and that became the launching point for a lecture about car maintenance habits and how I do not have any.
He should know. He's been working on my car all weekend. So blah, blah, I never check my oil (I forget), my tire pressure (um, my tire pressure measuring stick is broken), my radiator fluid (as if I even know where my radiator fluid is ...) and so on and so forth.
In fact, my car is in such shoddy shape, I should not even drive it anymore. Instead, I should just drive his car (which I'll simply refer to as super reliable from now on) but I have to remember not to start it in second gear because that WRECKS HIS CLUTCH.
In passing, my car-savvy fella mentioned that during his tune-up, the mechanic told him to consider replacing an ignition module or something of that sort. The mechanic, my fella concludes, is probably wrong and there is no problem with the car.
You should listen to the mechanic, I said, using up all the car advice I felt authorized to give. With your luck (he has the worst luck of anyone I know) the car will break down in the middle of a road trip and you'll be stuck there forever.
About 45 minutes later we were sitting on the side of the highway with the hazard lights on waiting for a tow truck.
That's right, Mr. Awesome-car-care-premium-gas-guy was digging around under the hood swearing and, to make matters worse, we gave the tow truck the wrong directions and were stranded for almost two hours at sub-zero temperatures in a car that would not start.
Two hundred bucks later, super reliable was in the shop and is there still, waiting for several hundred bucks worth of parts and labour.
In the meantime, the car's owner is driving my car (the one that does not have enough radiator fluid, the back doors do not open and is, overall, totally unreliable) to work.
Before I point out why this episode confirmed my attitude towards vehicles, consider this.
A couple of years ago I was driving my super junky K-Car along Highway 2.
I was just past Leduc when my tire seemingly exploded.
I pulled over, stupidly, on the left side of the highway and immediately realized I was stuck in the middle of six lanes of whizzing highway traffic.
I got out of the car, examined the tire (yep, it was flat) and pondered what to do next. I decided to walk to Nisku and call someone.
But before the traffic subsided for long enough to cross to the other side of the highway, some guy had already pulled over, put on my spare and asked me out for coffee.
Now I know I should learn how to change a flat and check my air tire pressure, but where's my incentive?
Obviously obsessive car maintenance, synthetic oil and all, does not eliminate breaking down on the side of the road.
Furthermore, if all of a sudden I learned to care about my spark plugs or my air filter, then so many guys would be deprived of the car-related lectures and rescues in which they secretly delight.
Besides, not knowing anything about cars means I generally listen to my mechanic when he says something needs to be fixed.
And let's face it, if it had been me driving ol' super reliable when it broke down, I could have got a ride back to town, and probably coffee, instead of trying not to die from the frost while waiting for the tow truck.
In my garage. Details. Moving, married, and new baby all mean that the project is on hold for now.
Smart choice.
Try to not let it dribble off your chin so much.
It's distracting.
I always wonder if it's going to string all the way to the floor.
LOL!!!!
You, Sir, are just jealous.
I checked it out, nice project! Good job!
Amazing what we can come up when we have to!
This author should whine about it to Car Talk, or just shut up, or both. It's all the same.
LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm sorry. Really. I'm sorry.
This is the truth.
Florence King is great, this chick is a ditz.
If my husband were a FReeper (he is...at heart), he would be all over your post. Apparently, yours truly practiced this method of car maintenance "way back when" we were first dating. LOL! He married me anyway.
I knew a guy that bought a base-model Nissan Sentra in the late '80s, and after having it a while, he got curious about just how far he could go on a tank of gas before the light came on. So he tried it. The needle hit and passed "E", and still no light. Eventually, he ran out of gas and had to get towed off the side of the highway. Only then did he read the owner's manual and realize that base model Sentras had the cutout for the low-fuel light in the panel since all models shared a similar instrument cluster...but the light was only actually installed on the higher-end models!
}:-)4
Trust me, I know. We've been together 20 years... Last week, I took her car to get the yearly inspection and emissions test ... gas tank was empty when I got there. Yeek.
The things I heard growing up with a master mechanic for a father...my two favorites from my childhood in the 70s:
1) A friend's father, a traveling preacher, was driving sixty miles one way each Sunday over the Blue Ridge Mountains to preach at a small church, plus running up a lot of mileage on his mid-70s Toyota Corolla during the week. Now, mid-70s Corollas--mid-70s Toyotas in general, actually--are well-nigh indestructible mechanically; they rust if you look at 'em wrong, but if you keep the rust away, the engines will run forever. Except if you do what this guy did...he never changed his oil. So one day, his oil light came on. He pulled over, dumped three quarts in it, and kept going. It didn't burn any oil...it just hadn't been changed in twenty thousand miles. Thirty minutes after the oil light came on, he was on the side of a mountain highway waiting for the wrecker with a seized engine and an impending $1000+ rebuild bill.
2) A local college professor had my dad do the Virginia state inspection on his newly-restored straight-eight Packard. I mean, this thing was awesome, a real find. (The engine block looked like it was a mile long.) He'd just finished up having someone do a long and involved restoration on the car. The professor then parked the car overnight. With only water in the cooling system. In December. In the Virginia foothills. On a night where the temperature hit about 22 degrees. The poor guy found out the hard way that water does expand when it freezes, with sufficient force to crack an irreplacable engine block.
}:-)4
Momma is such a good cook that I was weaned from take outs 25 tears ago. Can't stand the stuff. :-)
OVer the years I have had a 62 mark 1 spitfire, a 68 spirfire, a 74 spitfire, and two 77 spitfires, one of which became an F-Production SCCA race car, and the other a Solo II SCCA competition car. In addition ... a TR 250, a TR 6 which were repaired and sold to rasie funds for my spitfires. The last two were a 77 TR-7 and a 1980 TR-8. The TR-8 was a treasure which I sold for more money than I paid to buy it new. I also endured my own 64 AH Sprite and it troublesome gas tank leak.
So, I can still rebuild a spitfire without a manual. "Installation is a straightforward reversal of the removal process."
Long live British Leyland.
LOL!
Two of my cars were positive earth -- the 62 Mark 1 spitfire and the 64 Sprite. That was special.
Being of meager means, I was a constant customer of J C whitney in the early years for electrical replacement parts. Later on I could afford trips to the 'genuine' BL parts depot. Eventually I learned to replace parts with Delco and Smith's. Towards the end, I used a large Enlish car junk yard.
But yes, I was a student of recalcitrant electrids.
Dim, Flicker and Off.
That'll definitely do it. Guess it truly is cook or post then.
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