DAD'LL DO IT

I got a call one afternoon from an old customer, friendly sort guy, easy going and quite a successful business man. He was out of country and his wife was having some car issues.

"Sure, just have her drop it off sometime today," I told him.

"Thanks, you know what to do. As long as it's not expensive just take care of it for me," he answered.

Later that day the car showed up at the shop. It wasn't that big of a deal to repair. It didn't need my years of experience to make the repair, but, my old friend and customer trusted that I would find the out what was wrong with it. His little wife filled me in on the problem at hand, "Oh, it shakes so badly, especially when I'm driving. I hope you can take care of it," she said.

What was causing the shaking wasn't a mind blowing weird issue, but a simple spark plug wire problem. One of the wires had gotten up against the hot exhaust and burnt in two. The only thing high tech about this job was putting the car on the scanner and clearing the "miss-fire" information from the computer's memory.

Everything was as straight forward as far as repairs go, no other problems, no other concerns. She came in later that day so happy to get her car back in tip top shape. Why, she even said it was nice to know someone like me to do this kind of work while her husband was away on business. (How nice of her)

What happened the next day was a total surprise to me. The phone rang, but not the usual ring. I'm no phone "whisperer", but I'm telling you, it had the kind of ring tone to it that reminds me of a Saturday morning cartoon where the phone is jiggling back and forth, nearly flopping off the receiver rest. I was leaning over the counter when the front desk took the call.

Seemed like a straight forward, average, nothing to be concerned with phone call. I'm not involved in the conversation I just happened to be in the front office at the time. I probably should gather up my paper work and head back to the shop. But, why am I still standing here? What is compelling me to hold fast to this very spot waiting for this phone call to end? Experience I guess… I knew something was up. The one sided conversation that I could make out wasn't sounding like a good way to start out the day.

Oh no, it's her…the wife with the husband out of town from the day before. Oh boy, here we go… "You over charged me, I feel cheated, I didn't give you approval to do the work, and you should have called me before doing any of it. I'll have you know my father could have done the same repair for next to nothing," she said.

Normally I would get pre-approval but the husband and I have been working together for years and if it was something major I would have called him… but come on, it was a set of spark plug wires… not rocket science, and the approval was already given by the out of town hubbie.

How did I go from the savior of the family truckster, to Satan's second born all in one day? Oh, I got it now, I should have known. Husband is out of town and the next most likely "man" in her life is… Dad. It's the old "Dad'll Do It" routine; as soon as old dad knows what's wrong … He becomes the supreme expert on auto repair and I become the village idiot.

It stands to reason; as a professional "DAD" he has more knowledge and skill than my measly, worthless, years of experience, and technical background in the field of auto repair. Where was good old dad the day before? Or, did dad just receive this wisdom of auto repair overnight? Well, of course he did… as soon as she told him what I wrote down on the invoice as far as the diagnosis and the repair... what a genius dad is, he's got it all figured out… that's how.

The only thing left to do is call the repair shop and start chewing me out for doing the job her husband wanted me to "take care of." This "20/20 hind sight" is no reason for a person to fly off the handle based on "dad's" evaluation. Stop and think for second… as a professional repair shop (Or any profitable venture) we charge the customer for services rendered, and of course, good old dad will do it cheaper…. Would you expect anything less from your dad?

My question is; why didn't the husband just simply call dad? Maybe the husband wasn't sure that "dad" could take care of the problem. Maybe husband and dad don't get along.

It could be, that dad is an ace mechanic and could have solved the problem with no trouble at all. Why "Old Dad" may have a work shop in the back of the garage, maybe in an out of the way place where he takes apart old TV sets and builds his own automotive diagnostic machine out of the used parts. Why it could have saved me --- --- "minutes"… … … in diagnostic time. What was I thinking? I need to find this guy… He could be the asset my shop has been needing for years!

Then again, he could just be a dad looking out for his little girl.

Decision making on service work after the fact is never going to make my life any easier. Whether it's the fact the husband may not have told wife exactly how things were going to be handled, or old dad is proving to his daughter he still has what it takes to keep the car on the road. I'm still going to end up being the village idiot over the whole thing.

Maybe next time she needs something done she should just call good old Dad first… why not… … we all know… … … "Dad'll Do it."

Coming up with a new story each week can be quite a challenge. I keep trying, some are better than others, but, I always post them here first. You guys and gals help make the decision of which ones go to the editors and actually get published. Your comments help a lot. Keep them coming. Gonzo

Same Time-Same Station

After a simple repair, that for the most part had no real hiccups in it, the next day I received a call from the customer. The caller didn't waste any time chewing me out.

"What did you do with my radio?"

"Excuse me, is this about the car that was in yesterday?"

"You know which one, the one you stole the radio out of."

"Sir, I don't have your radio. I have no reason to take things from your car. I just…," he cut me off before I could finish.

"I know how all of you guys work. Now, if I don't get my radio back today I'm calling the cops."

"You might as well call them. Maybe they can help find your radio, because I can guarantee I don't have it."

"Fine, I'll see you in court!"

Ah yes, the old "I'll see you in court" routine. When yelling, cursing, and screaming doesn't get the job done, let's try the second stage of threats. You know, I've been at this car repair business for quite some time, and this isn't my first ride on the back of the turnip truck. I've been down this bumpy highway before, and I've got the bruises to prove it. I'm not going to get all excited over this vanishing radio, because these things always find their own way of working out. It could be this guy just has his AM and FM signals crossed up and 9 chances out of 10 there's always some explanation to the whole thing. At this point, I can't do anymore than tell him the truth… I don't have it. If these irate callers would turn their volume down just a bit, and check to be sure they're on the right station maybe things would come in a lot clearer then they might find their answer.

"Why don't you bring the car by, and I can take a look at it. I might be able to do some detective work and determine what might have happened to the radio."

"Oh, you just want to slip it back in the car while I'm not looking, so I won't call the cops."

"Sir, I can't help you if you don't bring it in. Once it's here I think we can get to the bottom of this."

Right now all he wants to do is act like this is some sort of radio call in show and vent at somebody. Since I'm the guy on the other end of the phone, I guess it's my turn. The only difference is I don't have the 5 second delay before all his ranting goes out over the air waves… It's coming to me "Live --- On the spot -- broadcasting". Click, goes the phone, and my radio debut has ended with the smoke still filtering out of my telephone receiver.

Later that day the "talk-show-wanna-be" called back. He still sounded upset, but he was going to let me in on a little secret. In a very angry tone he told me his son had removed the faceplate to the radio and stuck it behind the driver's seat. (His son didn't want anyone to steal his precious tunes.). But, of course, he didn't bother to tell disc jockey dad anything about it.

"I'm glad you sorted it out sir, at least it saves you a trip back to the shop," I said, relieved that I was off the hook, and maybe now my ratings would start to go back up.

"That doesn't mean I'm ever coming back to your shop anytime soon," he said in a harsh and threatening way. Click, went the phone again, no apology, no thanks for trying to help out … no… nothing. So much for my ratings….

In a way, I'm glad he took the time to call me, and let me know the radio face plate was found. I'm sure it's more of a personal embarrassment to him that he accused me of doing the deed before checking things out on his own.

Then again, guys like this usually tend to be like this about everything they do. More than likely they do the same thing at a restaurant or other public places. Telling me, "I'm not coming back to your shop" sounded more like this long time listener-first time caller just didn't want to admit to it, or say "I'm sorry"… Hey, that's fine with me, I'm used to it. I can bounce back and be ready for the next caller.

I'm not happy about losing a customer over something like this, but I'm more relieved this radio program has started to roll the closing credits. I'm sure my ratings will improve with the next job. As hard as I try, I can't win them all. I just wish I could "Click" these demons of the air waves off the air rather than listening to their badgering remarks when I know none of it is true.

It's time to end this broadcast and get on with the next job. Sure would be nice to deal with a customer who's not so eager to accuse me of something without checking their facts first. Oh, they'll be another crackpot caller sooner or later, you know there will be, there always is.

So, if you're looking for the guy on the other end of the phone, look no further,

I'll be right here…. Same time, same station.

Honesty… from the Other Side of the Counter

Dealing with customers can be an uphill battle for a technician in the automotive trade. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the underlining mistrust brought on by the "bad" reputation the automotive trade has always been trademarked with. As a technician I'm always wondering if I'll have to defend my career choice with the next turn of my wrenches.

To be put into the same category as some of those crooks and unscrupulous people that end up on the 6 o'clock news is just appalling, but some people view the auto repair business that way. As bad as it gets sometimes, I still wouldn't have a problem defending my chosen trade, it's my job… it's what I do.

Like it or not, when the TV news wants to expose a criminal or politician in some business scandal they go at them with every microphone and camera they have. It has its advantages for the station, ratings mostly, but they do a great job of uncovering those unscrupulous individuals in our society.

Granted, there are few politicians I wouldn't want to be left in the same room with, and probably just as many auto repair shops that I wouldn't even think about taking my kids tricycle to. At least I know about of them, but what about some of these lunatics that walk through the lobby door? Who's checking up on them?

They say; it's the customer who should be on their toes when they come to a repair shop? I'm not so sure I agree with that. I kind of think it's the shop that needs to be careful. As a shop owner/technician, honesty in your deliberation with the customer is essential, but this honesty thing goes both ways, you know? The customer has to be trustworthy enough to tell me the facts without exaggerations or false claims.

After all the years I've been around this business, finding and retaining customers isn't such a problem. I still get a lot of new customers coming through the door every day. One thing is for certain though; a new customer should always be on guard when they come through the front door the first time, whether they were a referral or not.

Not that I expect the customer to know the correct answers when they come in for car repair, but at the same time, I don't want them to try to take advantage of the situation. Let's face it, I don't know them, and they don't know me. As a shop owner I'm apprehensive, probably as much on guard as the customer should be. Then I ask myself, how honest is that person standing on the other side of the counter?

Like these situations:

The front door opens, "Hi, how can I help you?" I'll ask.

"I was in an accident about a year ago. I broke my turn signal lever off and I don't have the money to fix it. So I'm going to claim it on my insurance, I just need you to write it up to say it was accident related," says the customer.

I've even had people watch and see when their car was pulled out of the shop and into the front parking area waiting for pickup, and when nobody is looking they take out their extra key and drive off. (In my state, you can't steal your own car… I have to take them to small claims court to even think about getting my money out of them… yea, good luck with that.)

Or the guy who tells me his old Corvette has been in storage for years. He doesn't want any service, all he really wants is an invoice dated back to the time he put it into storage, so he doesn't have to pay the extra fees for his expired tags.

People have asked me if I would turn the miles back on their cars. Oh, please, really? Yes, really, they actually had the nerve to ask me that? There's no doubt some of these bent wrenches out there have a dishonest streak a mile long. It's just poor judgment on their part to even SUGGEST some of the things I have heard over the years. I could go on with some of the things I've seen or heard from the wacky world out there, but I'm sure you've got more of your own.

Anyway, when you have a chance to stop and think about it, it's pretty funny. I'll listen to their stories, and then laugh while pointing towards the front door, usually followed up with, "Now, get out of here".

You know, someday those TV news spots need to do a story on people like this. Hey, I'd watch! I've seen enough politicians and auto shops get the third degree, why not a little of it coming from the other direction for a change. I'm not saying stop jumping down the throats of those bad shops and political figures. Absolutely not, I'm sure some of them deserved it, but let's see one of those "microphone in the face" interviews with some of these ditch dodgers of the open highway that drift through the lobby doors.

"Buyer Beware." Needs to be updated or at least changed to fit my front office encounters. I'd like to change it to: "Beware of the Buyer." Now that's more appropriate.

My customers may pay my salary and keep my doors open, but I draw the line at dishonest people. I've got a job to do, and I want to do it with honesty and integrity. Some of these people have no scruples at all, and I really don't need that kind of work.

I'd like to think I won't run across another potential customer like the ones I described. But, you know, they're out there, dishonest, untrustworthy or just flat out criminally minded. I'll keep my eye out for them, believe me, I'm watching.

The way I see it, if I could change one thing in this world, it would be to add a little more honesty and integrity back into our society. Maybe some of those old fashion values that our grandparents always reminded us about, and it wouldn't hurt to show a little more of that honesty... from the other side of the counter.

These stories are here before final editing and publishing. Don't forget to visit my website www.gonzostoolbox.com also now my Sunday night chat "Coast to Coast Chat" has moved right here to ASO Chat page. Stop by Sunday night 7pm CST. See ya there!!

What does the same thing really mean? When a customer comes up to the service counter and says, "It's doing the same thing", I have to ask myself… "How do they know?" Is it really doing exactly the same thing? Funny, how it turns out (99.9% of the time), it's NOT doing the same thing.

I expect to hear stuff like this from customers now and then, but when my wife starts in on me… Ok, what's the deal? We were about to head on our vacation when the bulb warning light on the dash came on telling her one of the rear lights was out.

It was the side marker light on the driver's side of the car. Easily changed and taken care of, and with all the commotion and last minute preparations, the warning light problem became a distant memory.

Several states and hundreds of miles later the light came back on.

"It's doing the same thing," she tells me.

Now I understand there is always the possibility that it really is doing the same thing, but really my dear … you're married to the mechanic. Can we at least re-think how to inform me about such things? Yes, the light on the dash is "doing the same thing", but let's try rephrasing it to: "The warning light is back on, dear." At least that way I won't feel like I'm back at the shop trying to decipher the latest "doing the same thing" dilemma … hey, I'm on vacation for heaven's sake!

This time around it was the passenger side marker light that was out. Not to be outwitted by a little warning light, I pulled over at the next stop and added a quick little tap on the lens, which got it working again. (That should do till I get home again.)

This got me wondering how many times I've heard the phrase, "Doing the same thing". Over the years I've seen this escalate into complete madness at the front counter. As in my wife's case, the dash warning light on the car didn't state which bulb "exactly" was out, but only which section of the car. The same thing applies to a lot of other systems, however the customer who has laid down a chunk of their hard earned cash doesn't always see it that way.

A few weeks ago I had a 1995 Saturn in the shop that had been all over town, as well as to every relative who owns a tool box. No one seemed able to get the air conditioning to cool. Part after part was changed, but still no cold air. When I finally had a crack at it I was surprised at what I found. The connector for the A/C compressor was exactly the same style and type as the low coolant level sensor in the over-flow bottle. Somebody had switched them up. Once I found the problem the cure was simple… just reverse the connectors and "Ta-Da" cold air. All the functions were working, cooling fan, line pressure, vent temperature, everything was great. Even the "low coolant" light was operating correctly (they never mentioned that part)

However, a few weeks later they called me back and tell me it's … well, you guessed it… "Doing the same thing". Now, I'm no dummy, I know what they meant, it's not cold again. I informed them it was probably leaking refrigerant or something like that. They weren't buying that, they kept insisting that it's doing exactly the same thing as before. Even after reading the description of the repair on the invoice, and telling me they totally understood it… they still insisted it was… "Doing the same thing" … just sounded impossible.

Or let's say you've changed the blower motor for a customer and a week or so later they come back because the air conditioning isn't cold. I'll ask, "When did you notice the air wasn't cold?"

"Right after you changed the blower motor."

Ok, the next time I ask a question like that, and get a response to match, I'm going to have a guy with a drum set sitting in the background waiting for the customer to deliver the inevitable punch line. Then at that perfect comedic moment he could bang out the classic drum roll/cymbal crash. Priceless moment for sure.

It never fails, somewhere in the conversation the customer will say, "You worked on it last." Or, "You put it on the machine that tells you everything about the car. That's what I paid for." I like the ones who actually say out loud, as if I'm not standing in front of them, "Obviously they don't know what they're doing here." Followed closely by, "I should have listened to my friend, and taken it to that other shop."

What? Was I NOT supposed to hear all of it, or are they merely talking to themselves out loud, and I'm standing too close.

The way I see it, the consumer brought their car into a repair shop for a professional evaluation of the problem. But, as soon as the work is done, and some other problem creeps up the "all-knowing" consumer becomes the expert, and not the professional they originally brought it too.

If you study the invoice it says a lot more than what was repaired. It also states how much it cost them and honestly, that's really what has become the issue. There's one thing for sure, getting the customer to understand the complexities of a system. The fact that there are other things that can go wrong can be a huge mountain to climb. With some diplomacy and tact you can get through these situations. Try smiling and be courteous… it works wonders.

One thing for sure: the last thing you want to do is send the customer out the door without the problem resolved. There's no doubt if you don't get the car repaired, they'll leave the shop working on a massive headache over their car, and you'll probably go home … … … … "Doing the same thing" too.

Thanx for reading ... leave a comment and let me know what you think of it. These stories are here before final editing and publishing. Your comments help me decide which ones get sent on to the editors.

Don't forget to check out the website. www.gonzostoolbox.com

Semper Fi

Bob was well into his late 80's when I met him. He's quite the talker, and he'll never run out of things to tell you. I like old Bob. We have a few things in common, not much because of the years between us, but just enough that we can relate on quite a few subjects. We both served in the USMC. Of course, the years we served were decades apart, but even with the differences in time served, we still could "talk-the-talk" like two old veterans who just got their discharge papers.

Bob had a problem with the horn buttons on his '92 Buick. It was the kind of horn that has its buttons and the air bag all built as one piece. He didn't have the money to replace the entire airbag, but he did want to get that horn working somehow. I thought I could get it to work even if I had to "rig" something up, but that was OK with him.

With his advancing years catching up with him, his hands weren't the best. Most of his strength had faded with time, and so did the ability to straighten his fingers all the way out. I had to come up with a way that he could hit the horn button with the palm of his hand, rather than with a finger tip or thumb. Not a big deal, actually if he didn't mind the look of an old style horn button attached to the edge of the air bag (so it didn't interfere with the air bag operation) it could work just fine.

Now Bob, being Bob, talking was his gift, and finding somebody with a little military background, and stuck in the driver's seat of his car was all he needed to tell one of his stories. Bob hopped in the back seat and leaned over to watch what I was doing. As I worked on his new horn button, he told me all about his time in the Marine Corps. Fascinating story; I could have listened for hours. In fact, I made sure I took long enough for him to tell his story in full and without any interruptions.

He told me about his time in Korea, in Inchon actually. It was a cold winter when he was there. A bitter cold wind and heavy snow was only part of the horrific condition he had to deal with. He went on in great detail how he was just a young kid who didn't know a thing, and how you would be talking to someone one minute and the next minute the fellow Marine sitting right next to him froze to death. When he told me that part of his story I had to stop and turn to him to ask, "That really happened, just like that, Bob?"

With a stone cold look on his face he said, "As sure as I'm sitting here talking to you, my friend."

I don't think he was kidding. He was dead serious, but it was as if he was telling me a story from a distance, but at the same time, a story where he was actually there in the mountains of Inchon still fighting the bitter cold. I think it's a way for time and age to allow a person like Bob to separate themselves from what was probably a terrible event in their life. I certainly have never experienced some of the things he was telling me about, like the chow, the hours of watching for the enemy, or how his boots didn't have much in the way of insulation, so you put on as many socks as you could along with any straw or grass you could find. Bob made a point to tell me that if you needed to run to the "head" (bathroom for all you none GI type) … well, you tried to wait as long as you could, because exposing yourself in that kind of cold could be the end of you… and I don't mean just "your" end that's exposed.

I finished up my little project and gave it a try. It worked just fine.

"Hop up here Bob, and see if you can make it work like this," I told him.

Bob made his way into the driver's seat and gave his new horn button a try. A gleam came over his face, beaming from ear to ear. He had to try it a few more times, and each time the smile kept getting bigger and bigger. "Don't you know I needed that horn! Mercy, there's some little kids in my neighborhood who get out in the street to play, and I just want to toot my horn to let them know I'm coming. Thanks partner, ya done me right."

The old Marine got out of his car and opened his wallet, "How much do I owe ya?"

"Bob, it was an honor to do this job for you. I can't take a thing."

"You most certainly are, Marine!" he said to me as he palms a twenty in my hand.

"Thanks Bob, I appreciate that, but I really appreciate the stories. You know I write a column for a magazine, and I think I'd like to tell your story if that's OK."

"Sure, not a problem. Go right ahead. I think I'd like that."

You don't shake hands with Bob, because of his crippled hands; his way of shaking hands is to "bump" knuckles. Good enough for me. It's the thought that counts. Then Bob turns to the car sitting in the bay just in front of his car. With whatever strength he had, he did his best to straighten one finger and point at the car in front.

"I'll never get over seeing this," he said.

It was a Kia Sportage in for a no start condition. I made the assumption it was because it's a Korean car, and I thought it must be bringing back some of those painful memories he had as a young man.

"I understand where you're coming from Bob, it's a Korean car. I understand completely; it's something your generation had to deal with on the battlefield where your friends had died. I'm sorry it brings up some bad memories for you."

"That ain't it," he said as he walked closer to the car, and pointed directly at the name branded on the back door, "Killed – In – Action."

I think my knees buckled a bit when he said that. I didn't know what to say next. Bob waved good-bye, and pulled his car out of the shop, and tooted his horn as he made his way down the street.

I see old Bob once in awhile, still driving the same car, still tootin' his horn. I don't think I'll ever forget his story of how he served our country. He's one of the last of that generation, a much simpler time, before computers, before cell phones, and when KIA stood for only one thing.

I'm proud to have served my country, I'm even more proud to have met a great man like Bob. We should all be as lucky, and we should all remember what his generation and many others have done to keep this country free. So the next time you see a Kia, think of it as something other than a car, think about my friend Bob. Then, say this to yourself:

Semper Fi, Bob, Semper Fi

A salute to all who has served our great nation. This country wouldn't be the country we are today if it wasn't for all the service men and women who have put their lives on the line for those back home.

I'm honored to be a part of that same group. Gonzo USMC

Found It On The Internet

A customer comes into the office the other day with a hand full of papers about his car. Each page was full of information and diagrams pertaining to a repair he wanted done. He was extremely proud of himself, and proceeded to tell me how he found this wealth of knowledge on the internet.

You know, I think the internet is great, super in fact. (Imagine what it will be like in the future.) I use the internet all the time myself. I attend automotive classes, buy things, watch videos, chat with friends, emails, etc… It's endless what you can find or do on the net. But, I draw the line at some of the sites that give out information to the unsuspecting public, and inform them they have found some miracle cure for a certain aliment on their car.

Perhaps, some of it is useful. Perhaps, some of it is better information than I gather from all my technical resources and the manufacturers, but I'd rather check the source before calling something I found on the net as the all knowing, never to be doubted information for automotive repair. Let's just say, I'm more than a little skeptical.

Needless to say this guy was insistent I take a look at his information, and read up on what I was to do. Turns out, what he was looking at was some sort of way to correct a faulty dash circuit in a Lexus. All the pages were of photographic quality and very detailed in the descriptions on how the repair was to be made. From the few quick skims I took of the information, it appeared to be a bypass to the dash circuit by soldering a wire from one part to another.

The one thing I thought was a little quirky was the solder gun the demonstrator was holding in the photos. It was an old Weller soldering gun, the kind with the little light bulb sticking out below the soldering tip. I haven't used one of those in years. Oh come on, you're going to solder a little circuit lead with the bulbous end of one of these relics?

These days I've got everything from desk top, high powered dental tip soldering guns that will get hot in about 3 or 4 seconds to the butane portable units that have several different tips. Those old Weller's were great for putting together your electric erector set motor leads, but I certainly wouldn't use one on a tiny solder joint on a modern circuit board.

I pointed it out to my all-so-proud/all-knowing customer, but he didn't see it as a problem. He was more interested in the results that were on the last page of his internet find. I, on the other hand, wanted to know what information other than these few pieces of paper he had that could back up his claim that this was going to fix his problem. Furthermore, was his problem even in the dash to begin with?

"Sir, I really think I should test your car, before I take the dash out," I told him.

"No, I've already had it checked out at the dealership. They want to sell me a new dash, and I'm not doing that. It's way too expensive. That's why my friend and I found this on the internet. I'm absolutely sure this will fix it."

I read the material he brought a little more carefully, and I'll have to admit it did sound convincing, but I still had my doubts. I've run across these "wonder-cures" on the net before. Quite frankly, I don't think I want to try them on a customer's car. They're more of a curiosity to me. I do believe there are smarter people out there who can surpass the design ideas of the car manufacturers, but I don't think these people are dumb enough to give away their "great-idea" to the mass market for free.

"I'll even take the dash out and bring it to you," my proud customer went on to tell me.

Now, there's a kick in the old tool box for ya. He's going to help me out, and bring me the dash. Well, well, well… the one thing that is probably the "most likely not" to get screwed up in this whole ordeal is the one part he wants to help me with.

"Sir, if you've got the dash out, and you have these drawings and directions, why don't you get a soldering gun and make the repair yourself. You don't need me for any of this; you've got all the directions right here to do it, and they seem easy to follow. All you need is one of these old Weller soldering guns, and you could copy the procedure exactly," I said while pointing at the smoke coming off of the solder gun in the photos.

"No, I'd rather have a professional do it."

I guess that means me. Now I've exchanged a lot of dashes in my time, and I've even soldered a few joints back together. I've also swapped a few stepper motors for gauges and things like that. But to take advice from an internet source that I know nothing about… hmmm… I think not. I can't imagine what "professional" would take on a project based on the information I had in front of me.

Let's think about this for a minute. There is some sort of odd ball directions found on the internet by a customer, who is offering to remove the dash and bring it to you…BUT, he wants you as the "professional" to solder the wires onto his expensive dash. Really? I think I can guess the eventual outcome of all this. I'll bet he wants the "professional" to take the blame and responsibility if it doesn't work the way he expects it to after the Weller soldering job is done. Even if he says, "I'll take the responsibility." Believe me, if it doesn't work… it's your smoking solder gun he's going to point the blame at.

"Sorry sir, that's not going to happen, I would rather diagnose it, repair it, or replace the dash according to the information I have. I can't take the word of some website this is going to work. The responsibility is not theirs to make sure this is fixed correctly--it's mine. You're just assuming this information you found on the internet is correct. I can't take the chance, even if you tell me that you wouldn't hold me responsible if it didn't work. I'm still not going to do it, sorry."

With that my proud customer gave me the stare of shame. Oh you know the stare… that glare from across the room, the mumbling under their breath and the snarling Elvis lip quiver. Yea, I've seen it before; sorry it still isn't going to make me try some internet voodoo on your car, buddy.

After the usual "customary-length" stare and glare were over, he gathered up his paper work and headed out to his car without another word.

I don't know what he ever did, for all I know he found somebody else to do it. At least it wasn't me. Maybe if I do some checking myself I might find out this guy was right and it really did work.

At least then I could say… "I found it on the internet."

Thanks for reading my stories, your comments are more than appreciated. In fact, it's how I decide which ones will go on to the editors for publication. So definetly leave a comment. Don't forget to stop by my website for more stories, information and wacky car photos. www.gonzostoolbox.com

GOOD,, CHEAP, FAST

If you're in the auto repair business like I am, you know there are certain times and events throughout the year that dictate how business is going to flow in the shop. Sometimes it's a good thing; sometimes the shop moves really fast, other times it's so slow you have enough spare time to build a canoe and wait for the rain to come.

For me, I can just about plan my year by the calendar. School starts, shop goes dead. Holidays, shop goes dead. Tax season, shop goes dead, change political parties, shop goes dead. Any long stretch of mid-70 degree days with no need for air conditioning, heater, or the wipers, shop goes dead. Pretty much anything that upsets the balance of the space-time-continuum, the shop goes dead. However, through all the usual up and down cycles I manage to keep the doors open.

There are so many different things that can get in the way of maintaining a full shop. Of course, in the midst of all this chaos I have to find time to keep up with the current technology, and at the same time, purchase any new equipment to go along with this new technology.

I try not to buy the cheapest scanner or tool out there. I've seen the results of poor judgment when it comes to that. Fast service to the customer is a plus. However, too fast and you may over look things. I'd like to think I am doing the best I can with every job that comes into the shop. Hopefully, keeping in mind to not go too fast, not use cheap parts, and always give good service.

There's no doubt that the electronic age has affected every part of our daily lives. I see it even more when it comes to car maintenance and general repairs. Even with all of this technology they haven't been able to get rid of the technician and a toolbox. There's still a need for a trained technician to be under the hood doing the hands-on work to get the car back out on the road.

I hear so much talk about "Weeding" out the cheap shops, and promoting the good ones in the automotive repair trade. I believe that's a good thing, a really good thing; it puts all of us in the business on the fast track to success, and hopefully gives more credibility to the automotive repair shops out there. Although, as it is in the real world, for some people, all they really want is cheap. Cheap enough that their pocketbook doesn't dry up after a car repair. Let's face it, as long as there are those "Bottom-feeder" shops out there, and people willing to go to them, little is going to change.

That's where one of my favorite little quotes comes into play. It goes like this: "There are three things you can have in auto repair or any business for that matter… and that's--- "Good, Cheap, and Fast". The only problem is that you can only choose two of these. Choose wisely, because the one you did "not" pick, you must use it to finish this sentence: "It's not going to be very _____." I've heard this quote from a lot of different sources. It's nothing new. I wouldn't doubt it's been around for a hundred years or more, but it's still true even today.

To bring it into some modern terms let's take this example: "Temporary battery clamps."

You know the ones you find on about 50% of the cars that come into the shop? Hmm… they're not called "Replacement Clamps," now are they? No, the common term I've heard for years for them is: "Temporary Clamps." (Call the parts store and ask for temporary clamps, see what they send you.) So, why are so many of them installed and then left on the car? Well, let's see, they're cheap, and they can be installed pretty fast. Would I say they are good, well, good for a while… they're only temporary right? Thus, the answer to this one is "Cheap and Fast" and the results are: It's not going to be very – Good.

Maybe I'm just a little crazy, but wouldn't it make more sense to invest in a battery clamp crimping tool, some good replacement clamps, a few sections of color-coded shrink tubing to seal the ends, and take the time to repair them correctly? Hmmm, problem here….. if I was using the quote as a guideline, it would read: "It's not going to be very "Cheap". Again, those three little words come into play again.

For me, the real funny part, is how-in-the-world did you end up needing a new clamp in the first place? Oh, that's right, the maintenance was neglected, or should I say… somebody was too cheap to get regular maintenance done. There are always other reasons you know; I could go on about those… Am I moving too fast for ya? I'm not? Good.

I guess it all goes back to that "Good, Cheap, and Fast thing". It's amazing how it seems to always end up with those three little words to explain it all. I don't think it really matters whether it's something for the house, or that awful hotel room you stayed in, or even a battery clamp. Some way or another things can or will go wrong if poor choices are made on just about anything in life.

So keep this little quote handy and see how often it works out there in the real world. I have it posted in the front office area, and when someone asks I'll tell them, while pointing to the little sign: "If you want it cheap, and you want it fast"…

"It's not going to be very… Good."

Hope you enjoy the stories, leave a comment if you'd like. These stories are here before final editing and publication. Always love to hear from everyone. Don't forget to stop by my website www.gonzostoolbox.com Gonzo

A rather slow week at the shop turned into a very interesting one. With the economy slowing things down to a crawl, it's understandable that people can't afford to have their cars in for repair like they should, and regular maintenance is usually not that high on the list of things to be concerned about.

Of course, the customer can always have an issue with the cost. Sometimes, it's not the cost of the repair, sometimes it's the cost of dealing with that certain type of person. Either my sanity or my patience is going to be tested.

Financial worries aside, I find common sense is the one thing that tends to get thrown out the window with some regularity when it comes to mixing the customer and the car together. Let's see what you think of this latest ditch-dodger of the public highways.

This dude has raised the bar of stupidity to a level that I don't think anyone else will ever obtain. I'm pretty sure this gear grinder didn't have all 4 tires on the ground.

A Dodge Intrepid was on the "hook" apparently, a "no-start" condition. It was supposed to be at the shop that afternoon, but that's not quite how it happened, more like 3 days later. No phone call from the owner in the past 3 days to let me know what the delay was or a heads-up that it was getting towed in today.

The battery was totally shot. If you've ever changed the battery on one of these you know what I mean when I say it's a pain. (I think the engineers should explain this to the customers when it's time to replace the battery instead of me having to telling them.) This isn't an "in/out" job… oh no, not these cars… a couple of panels and some tight places to get your hands into. Wonderful fun, just love this job. Ya think they could design a better place to put the battery. Why did they put it there? I can hear the engineers talking:

"Oh, let's make it harder to change than it needs to be, you know those batteries never need regular service. Why it hardly ever needs replaced so let's put it in a cavity in front of the tire with a little plastic panel where all the road salts and dirt can't effect it at all."

The big problem might have been the battery replacement, but then again, it's not. It's the owner. With the tow charge, battery install, and the cost of the battery all added up, the only thing left to do was to get this road-jockey back in the saddle. I gave him a call he answered.

"I'll get back to you."

"I'll get back to you…" went on for another week of sitting in the shop. Now, I normally don't keep cars this long without getting riled up over the space it takes up in the shop. I tried to call but he would never answer. I didn't want to leave it outside, and it never failed, the shop was getting busy and the old Dodge would end up in the way more times than not. Then, another week went by, and so far the owner hadn't called back or returned any messages I left.

Finally, on a Monday, 2 weeks after the car had been brought in, the customer finally called.

"How much was the bill?"

I gave him the total once more, and a complete run down on the test results. He seemed to understand, and I wasn't expecting any problems from here on out. I should have known better than that, this isn't the first time I've been stuck with a car in the shop.

"Can you have it done today?" he asks.

"Sure can," I told him, (Of course it was already done, how else could I have had moved the car for the past two weeks.)

"I take it you'll be picking it up today? It's been here for 2 weeks already you know."

"OK, well… how about Wednesday? Can you have it done then?"

Now how did Wednesday enter into the conversation, must be an issue of when he can get a ride, or maybe his financial situation is in jeopardy till Wednesday.

"It's been here for 2 weeks, which should have been plenty of time for you to pick it up or decide on what to do. You never returned any of my calls, and I don't have room to just keep moving your car around and around. Besides the fact I kept it inside at night for security purposes."

"Do you charge for storage?" he asked.

"Yes I do, but if you make an effort to pick it up today I'll wave the storage fees."

"OK, so you can have it done by today, right, and if I pick it up today you won't add any storage charges?"

"If you pick it up today, I don't see a problem with that. I need the room in the shop." I told him.

This is great, I'm thinking to myself: "I'm going to finally get this thing out of here."

Then he blurts out the most unusual request I've ever heard:

"OK, How about Friday?"

How in the world did we go from Wednesday to Friday all on a Monday? Has this curb-hugger just had some drastic change of events again!

"Uh Sir, that would be even more additional storage charges." I told him.

"What's the storage charges for?" with a questioning tone, as if he never heard a thing we were talking about earlier.

Did this guy really pass a driving test, or did he just find his license at the bottom of a box of breakfast cereal? I can't tell if this guy is joking or if his gears are stripped.

I'm pretty sure this guy couldn't take a loan out to pay attention. I'll bet when his driving instructor said, "Back up." he moved the seat. The way he answered questions with questions just didn't make any sense.

I'm not sure what's going on, but before we finished our conversation on the phone I was left with the impression he was going to be picking it up today to avoid any storage charges.

Now wouldn't ya know it? After the car sat in the shop for two weeks, and without a word from this ditch-dodger, he shows up at the shop 30 minutes after I hung up the phone.

I'd like to think that the rest of this guy's life is going to be better than this. After personally meeting this dip-stick it wasn't hard to tell he didn't have things hitting on all cylinders. What a goober… I'm just glad he's out of my shop and back out there in the world.

You know, if a psychologist ever wanted to do a case study on the real world, come on down to the shop.

Stick around for awhile, and you'll see all you'll ever need to see.

Now why is that? I guess I can't answer that one… wrong body chemistry I guess. But the same thing holds true at the repair shop. Some male patron tend to be in this same mode, they want to "talk to the mechanic" verses talking to the front desk person. Especially if that front person is female. In my case, the front desk person is my daughter. She has seen it all, and is very knowledgeable I might add. Ask her a car question, any question and she'll give you an answer.

The male customer that really bugs me is the phone callers who use the phone to boast about their knowledge or lack thereof. You can tell that's what they are doing by the way they ask the questions to whom they're talking to.

The phone rang one day, my daughter answered it.

"Good Morning, can I help you?" she told the caller.

"What I really want is to talk to tech," said the caller,

Being a chip off the old block, my daughter likes to feel she is doing her job and that there is no need to "talk to the tech" because the tech is going to only repeat exactly the same information.

"Sir, I'm sure I can answer any question you have."

"Look, little lady, get me the tech. I'm not talking to some girl over a car problem."

"What, you don't think I can talk cars because I'm a girl?"

"Just get the tech."

"Ok, just a minute I'll see if he's free." She answered.

It wasn't hard to find me; I was sitting right behind her goofing off on my laptop. She puts the guy on hold, and turns to me with those eyes… you know the ones… the "another male chauvinist on the line dad, I'm not worthy enough to answer his questions".

"I'll take the call kiddo," I said.

She hands me the phone and clicks the hold button off with a quick snap of her finger… then sits back in her chair… glaring at me.

"Can I help you," I said.

"Sure can, why I was referred to you by another shop, said you are the best," boasting and cheerful, "Got this noise from my engine, the other shop said you would know what it was."

"Well, I probably could figure it out," I stayed calm and answered.

"So when can you get a look at it,'' he answered.

Now it's time for the real fun. "Now, that I can't answer for you sir," let me put you back in touch with the front office. They can give you that information. Hold a sec., while I transfer you back to the front," I said with a grin.

"Sure no problem," the caller answered. You could tell he was quite proud of himself I might add. He had that sound of confidence like the football team has after the coach gives all of them the "big" speech before the game.

I put him on hold, and looked at my daughter. She was rolling those eyes again. Now, I don't know how to "write" frustration on paper… but if you can imagine the look I was getting … you would certainly understand.

She got back on the phone as cheerful as ever and proceeded to set up a time and date that he could get his car in the shop. A few days later, as I was pulling into the shop parking lot, here was this guy sitting in his car waiting at the front door. I waved at the guy and unlocked the front door. He followed me in to the lobby as I was putting my lunch and laptop down in my office.

"How ya doing this morning," I asked him.

"I've got my car out here," he said, "It's the one I called about that is making that noise."

"Great, let's fill out the invoice and get started on it," I answered back to him. My daughter hadn't made it in yet, so it was my job this morning.

The repair wasn't a big deal (belt tensioner bearing). The customer waited in the lobby for the job to be completed while my daughter took over in the front office for the day.

[/font] All said and done with, nothing was mentioned about the phone call. Perhaps, it didn't need to be mentioned, because, us men took care of business. You know, we men, we do "manly" things… cars… argh, argh, argh, why it's not important if the opposite sex doesn't understand us…because we're men, and men don't need to explain things to each other. Now that statement isn't funny at all. That's the chauvinist response answer. It doesn't set well with me, I may be a guy but I try to show respect to anyone and everyone who shows respect back. It's not a gender thing at all. I have quite a few parts counter female friends that can rattle off a part number for a given vehicle before you can fully describe the part to them. They are just that good. That "sweet" voice on the phone is no indication of knowledge. That's just a voice… put a wrench in their hand and watch out… you may have met your match. But I know a lot more jerks that think "men" are the only answer to car repair. This guy, well, it's safe to say … he made the list.

These stories are here before editing for publication...

Comments are welcomed.

visit my website for past stories and videos, games, photos and lots more. www.gonzostoolbox.com

"Can ya get to it?"

Sometimes, I just don't understand

Ring, ring, the shop phone starts its usual routine first thing in the morning.

"Good morning, can I help you?" I ask.

"I've got a problem with my car; can ya "Get to it" today?" the caller asks.

Have you ever wondered what that really means? I'm not talking about little old Mary that calls and wants to know whether or not you can squeeze in an oil change. I'm talking about these more in depth repairs that you know will take more time than just a quick scan could accomplish. It really gets to be pretty hilarious if you stop and think about it.

Sometimes I have to ask myself: Really, "Get to it?" What if I say yes? What if I say no? What if I tell them I can "Get to it" but only if there is a full moon on Tuesday? What? What? What does it all mean?

I've heard this line so many times over the years… and I still don't know how to answer it. The way I see it is: as long as I'm not closing the shop, going on vacation, or decided today is the day I'm not doing anything… I'm pretty sure I can "Get to it."

Now if I answer, "Not a problem, I can "Get to it" today."

Nine chances out of ten they'll show up 15 minutes before I close the shop. Although if they do show up in time for me to get started on the job, they'll call back to the shop before the engine even gets cold.

"I'm checking on my car; what did you find wrong with it?"

I guess I'll never understand. Maybe I should have asked what they meant by "Get to it" while I had them on the phone. Oh, but I know, (after years of trial and error), that if I asked them to explain it to me they wouldn't have a clue what I was talking about. Although there is no doubt they'll deny that they want it finished the same day.

"Oh no, I just wanted to know, if you could "Get to it."

Sure, sure you do….

Of course, if I didn't mention a thing about it… all bets are off… because now they'll call me within the hour, and give me the same old line, "Now, you'll have it done today, right?"

Of course, some time during the follow up phone call they suddenly remembered they have some pressing issue they forgot about, and transportation is a problem so they'll have to pick the car up by 5. (No matter what the car is in the shop for.)

What's the problem? I really believe a lot of people have been jerked around by so many incompetent socket jockeys that they won't put their trust in any repair shop. So hounding the tech all day is their way of keeping tabs on their car and making sure they are not getting over charged. Not all customers are like this, but you can be sure I'll definitely be thinking about it when anyone uses that phrase, "Can ya get to it?"

I'm not even sure why you would even ask "Can ya get to it?" Do you think that I'm so busy that I couldn't "Get to it?" I've heard of shops that might have a back log of a few days to a few weeks, maybe that's it. Could it be…? I guess…? Although not all of these people are going to the shops that are so busy that they couldn't "Get to it." So what gives?

These days I'm more interested in finding out why someone would ask me the question at all. Call it my way of stirring the pot, call it my way of trying to understand the impossible question in the auto repair business, or it could be I'm just crazy enough to think I could make a joke out of it. No sense in me getting all riled-up when I finally get the car diagnosed and have already told the customer that it will be tomorrow before the parts show up. I figure I might as well let the customer in on a little secret… "Hey buddy, I can "Get to it" but I certainly can't fix everything as soon as I "Get to it."

I'm always curious to hear their answer. I should just stop worrying about it or how late I might have to stay at the shop to finish the job so the customer can go to their job the next morning.

I really don't think I'm ever going to understand the reasoning behind the meaning of the phrase "Get to it."

More than likely, I'm not suppose to understand it at all. It's just part of the business.

I guess, after all these years; maybe all I should just be concerned with is:

making the time to ----"Get to it."

I'd like to thank ASO for their efforts and support. Now they have made it easier to follow my crazy stories. As always, these stories are here before final editing and publication. You are the first to read them. This makes ASO my "pre-editing" readers, and I'm always interested in your opinions. So keep those comments coming. Your responces make it easier for me to decide which ones actual get published. Thanx ASO! !

Don't forget to visit my website: www.gonzostoolbox.com AND don't forget to read and support the magazines I write for. Thanx again.

Gonzo Jan 2010

Sometimes, I'll find faults with the so called "experts" advice or information. Not that I think I'm smarter than the engineers… no, not that at all. But if something strikes me as not being completely correct I might want to question what is on that diagnostic tree. Mind you, my entire day is filled with meeting the expectations of my customers. I have to be dead on with my repairs and diagnostics. Not some of the time, no, ALL the time. And, I expect the same from the people that provide the information and parts. The way I look at it, you're only as good as the information provided.

Where does that leave me when the directions or diagnostic tree doesn't lead to an answer? Usually frustrated, and disgusted. But what happens when you follow the diagnostic tree to the letter and something is still very, very wrong.

Several years ago, back in the 80's or so, back before we had computer based information, email, and the internet we used big thick books to find our diagnostic information. You've all seen them, they're somewhere in a back room of the repair shop these days gathering dust, next to that dwell meter and carburetor adjustment tools. All my big diagnostic books are on a shelf, standing like old soldiers of days gone by, proudly showing their age. Each of them has grease marks, scratches on the covers and worn edges on every page from years of service.

Back when the books were in their heyday I had a couple of interesting issues that a guy like me just couldn't leave alone. I find something not right; I'd like to find out how to make it right. Even if the book is wrong, I'd like to know why the book is wrong.

There was this mid 80's GM with a service light on. I broke out my overly large books of knowledge and started to follow the diagnostic tree to find the solution to the problem. As I went thru each step I would note the results of the test and then continue onto the next step.

When I came to the very bottom of the diagnostic tree, there on the final line of the final test was this statement: "If the answer to the last question was "yes" - release the ECM". Now what it in the world are they talking about now? I'm 99.9% sure they actually meant "replace" ECM (Electronic Control Module), but that's not what it said. It clearly said "release"

I'm wondering if they know there's a typo in their book… I think I'll call them… you know, just for a laugh. Not that it's all that important, but what the heck… let's have some fun with this.

I called, as seemed to be the norm back then it took a few phone transfers to get to the correct department, and as each operator put me in touch with the next operator I started to put together a story.

When I finally reached the engineering department, I had to play it up…

"Can I help you with a diagnostic problem?" he said, sounding all official and all.

(Like he had a clue what was going to happen next)… I let him have it with my own version of stupidity.

"Yes, I'm following this diagnostic tree and trying to come to the possible results, but I'm having some problems with it. Now, I'm not one to think there's a problem with the diagnostics but this one, well, I'm a little concerned… it said, very clearly "release ECM".

"Hmm, so what did you do?" he asked. (He's not getting it.)

Let's see if this guy can follow along with my idiotic logic, or see if I lose him in the translation.

"I disconnected the ECM, set it outside the shop, gave it a little pat on its PROM and said to the little aluminum computer box… "YOU'RE FREE! GO-BUDDY-GO, LEAVE, YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, HIT THE ROAD! YOU'RE RELEASED!!" and you know what… it just sat there. It never moved… now I'm wondering, I followed the diagnostics correctly. The car is still in the shop and it still won't start. And this dang computer doesn't want to be released…. Ya got any suggestions? Because the test ended with "release ECM"… there were no more steps in the test so I did what it said… I released it -- what now?" I told him.

There was a dead silence on the phone. I'm guessing, this guy doesn't get the joke, or he's really thinking that little ECM should have taken its chance and run for the hills before this wack-o mechanic comes up with something else.

He cautiously answered, "Can I call you back on this? I'll have to consult with the engineering department on this one."

Is this guy serious? Really, fella, can you not see this is just a joke? I would have thought most intelligent people would see right through my little story… not this guy, he was dead pan serious. He took down the page number and said he would get back to me later that day. Now I'm waiting for "Mr. Engineer" to get back to me.

A few hours later he did call back and informed me that it was a misprint and it really should have said "replace".

"I know," I said, "I just thought you guys would like a little joke. I thought you'd like to know that there was a mistake in the books, that's all."

"Thanks for telling us, we all got a pretty good laugh over it," he answered, "We like to think we have the best books in the industry and we pride ourselves on giving you guys the most precise information possible."

We ended the phone call with both of us laughing about the whole thing. Little did he know, he would get another phone call. A few days later I had another problem to deal with. It was a knock sensor code and the test procedure said; "Take a 4 oz. hammer and tap next to the sensor while observing the scope reading".

You know, I couldn't leave this alone. After getting this uptight engineer to loosen up on that last phone call, I just had to call him again.

"OK, what is it this time?" he asked.

"I don't have a 4 oz. hammer to do this test. You know, you told me you have the most precise information… and I don't want to deviate from the book without knowing I'm on the right track."

"Ah……., I'll have to get back to you," he told me.

Seriously? I'll bet this guy never gets the punch line of a joke. Several hours later he called me back, and said that it wasn't a misprint this time, and that any small hammer would do. This might be one reason why I never became an engineer. These guys are way too serious for me. Lighten up dudes… geez.

"If you find any other mistakes in our books, would you send what you find to us in writing for evaluation. We are working hard to keep these problems from arising… so it would be very helpful if you could do that for us. Thanks for your cooperation," he said.

Do ya get the feeling this guy doesn't want me to call them anymore… hmmm, I wonder why? Maybe I've given them a little more incentive to recheck their work a little more. These days, I haven't seen as many mistakes. I suppose with spell check and a few careful proof reads it's less likely to have these kinds of mistakes again.

I guess in some respects, it's a good way of avoiding phone calls from smart ass mechanics like myself.

These stories are here for your enjoyment before sending to the editors for publication and editing. Some stories make it, some don't... but you guys/gals help decide which ones.

Leave a comment, I'm listening.

Visit my website for even more stories and info www.gonzostoolbox.com

A decrepit 94 Impala SS with a 5.7 liter engine was towed in. When this thing was new, it was a real power house. But, this poor thing had a pretty rough life. Terry, (My buddy the tow driver) was standing in the lobby with this grin on his face. I could tell he was about to give me one of his patented tall tales about this car.

"Gonz, you're going to like this one, nice car, a crème puff, oh, and the paint, awesome, just awesome... You'll have to put your gloves on before you start on this cherry ride. Wait till ya see this one," he tells me, while trying to keep a straight face.

"Really, how come I don't believe you," I said.

By now he couldn't stop from laughing, and then he tells me that on the way over the trunk lid pops open. He stopped to close it only to find out that the entire latch area was completely rotted away. The car was completely painted with flat black paint from a spray can. No door panels, broken trim inside and out, cracked glass, and a pillow in the driver seat to keep you from falling thru the seat. The car had a slight lean to one side as if a spring was broken or the shock towers were rusted thru. The outside mirrors are dangling off the doors, the wheels don't match, and there's a steady drip of oil from under the car. It's a real POS. (Your definition is sufficient; I don't need to explain that one I'm sure.)

It started, so I drove it into a service bay. The thing smelled awful and I'm not talking just the exhaust. All I was told was that it would die while driving and you would have to wait quite some time before it would start again. The service light was on, along with almost all the other warning lights. But as it was, I was only concerned with the service light and see if that led to any results.

Several codes were stored; I wrote them all down and then cleared the memory and restarted the car. 2 codes did return right away. One was for the secondary air system, that one was easy, the relay was missing. The other code (code 36) had to do with the distributor (High resolution circuit). I ran the test procedure to see where it led. One of tests required that the connector at the distributor needed to be disconnected to verify connection quality. The connector…. A … what connector? Someone had stabbed the 4 wires into the distributor housing and then used silicone to keep them in place. The entire distributor area was covered in oil. In fact, the oil was dripping out of a crack in the distributor cap. (How the H?LL did this thing even start?)

There's no sense in going any further, I priced out the obvious parts and called the customer. To say they were shocked would be an understatement. This distributor isn't cheap by a long shot on these 5.7's. But, what surprised me even more was what the owner told me.

He said, "The parts were new."

New? You've got to be kidding me. I needed to find out what this bailing wire commandos version of new was. There wasn't one new part on this heap. The crack in the distributor cap was large enough to actually be seen without getting that close to it. And, that's even with the distributor buried behind the waterpump and the harmonic balancer. You could see it plain as day.

"Where did you get them?"

"Salvage yard across town," he said.

"Then there not new, they're just new to the car," I told this POS captain.

"Well, they looked new when I took them off the wrecked car," he tells me.

Off a wrecked car, of course a wrecked car… right….I'll bet it's probably one that got smacked by a train right in the radiator too. It's not so much that this POS pilot used salvage yard parts, that's not what I'm concerned with. It's the amateurish way he installed the distributor wires and the fact that he wasn't concerned about this huge crack. But, as it always seems the case… money, or the lack of, is the real issue here. Now why is it, when you get a job in like this the very first thing that happens is the wallet starts to dictate the repair.

He wanted to know if he could get more parts from the salvage yard and if I would put them in. I don't like doing that, but to help the guy out I said I would work with him, a bit. But the big deal was that connector; he had to find a replacement. As far as he knew there wasn't another one at the salvage yard with a decent connector.

After talking to the dealership about the parts, they told me there was a replacement harness still available, however, it was revised from the original and most likely the connector would not match the older style distributor. So, it's not looking good for this guy.

When I told him what the labor costs would be just to replace the distributor and the rewire the connector, he had a big problem with that, he couldn't afford any of it. Then the wallet started talking again, now he wanted me to change only the distributor connector since the other parts were new. There's that word again… new… Yea, right it's new…. Let's leave the dripping oil filled distributor assembly bleeding all over the place. I'm sure that's exactly how it was designed to work. Must be one of those "total loss" oil systems from years gone by that I read about in the history books.

I think it's time this guy finds a new car. I'm sure if he drove, pushed, or pulled this heap of junk to the salvage yard the car would automatically find its own parking spot somewhere next to the rest of the worn out scrap wagons waiting for their final demise. It's just too far gone for any professional shop to tackle on this guy's income. Not that it couldn't be repaired and brought back to refurbished shape, just not on this guy's salary.

Sorry dude, I'm real sorry, but I can't work these kinds of miracles on a budget. The sad truth of it is, there are a lot of cars out there that are in just as bad of shape. Look around the next time you drive home you might even spot one of these "hoopties" driving down the road.

I feel pretty bad that even though I know how to fix it, I just can't fix it without spending a fortune on it, and maintain some professionalism to the finished product. I took some time to talk him, gave the young lad some fatherly advice on how to pick out a decent car and not get so wrapped up in his emotional attachment to this aging wanna-be hot rod. (He called it a hot rod… not me.)

I hope he takes my advice, and I hope he finds a decent cheap car that won't eat his pocketbook up in repairs. Because this car is done, put a fork in it… call the scrap yard and tell them, "Gotta another one for the crusher!"

Thanx for reading these stories, they are here for your enjoyment before publication. The final version that is published might be slightly different, and that's how you can help. Your comments make it easier for me to edit and send a finished story.

Thanx, Gonzo

The other day one of the many body shops I do work for came by with a little problem on a 98' Honda. Doug (the owner of the body shop) wanted to make sure I knew how much he appreciated everything that I have done for him over the years. He was making a big deal out of it. I'm not sure whether he was bragging on me, or just being complementary. For all I know he was trying soften me up, before I gave him the bill.

"You're the first person I call," he proudly tells me.

"Well, thanks Doug, I appreciate that," I told him.

"You know, we (the bodyshop) don't know a whole lot about this electrical stuff. That's what we've got you for. You always bail us out."

When he finally finished his "Thank You's", he headed back to the bodyshop, and left the little Honda for me to look at. By that afternoon I was on the phone to let him know it was a simple problem with the hazard switch, and he could pick up the car to finish the bodywork.

The next day my daughter, Katie (my office manager) got a call from him. They ran into a little trouble with another car. An 08' Toyota Camry. Seems the battery was dead, and somehow while charging the battery they touched the positive and negative leads together from the jumper cables while they were still hooked to the car. Now, the car would only idle, nothing more. Katie came out to the shop to ask me what I thought might be the problem. I was busy on another job, stuck under a dash looking at a fuse box.

"Sounds like he blew a fuse," I told Katie while sticking my head out from under the corner of the dash.

"That's it?" she asked.

"Sounds like it to me. Oh, and tell him once he changes the fuse, go find the guy that did it, and kick his butt for me," I told her with a grin on my face.

She walked back to the phone shaking her head and smiling.

"That's it? I hope so," Doug tells her, "because, if we had to drive it across town for him to check it out we could only idle it the whole way. We'd look pretty foolish if we did that, and it turned out only to be a fuse."

Laughing now, Katie tells him, "Yeah, that would be pretty bad. He did have more information for you though. His professional diagnostics also included that you kick the guy's butt who did it."

"Well, alrighty then, I'll take care of that personally. Tell your dad thanks again. One fuse, one butt kickin… got it," Doug tells her with a chuckle.

The next day here comes the boys from the bodyshop driving the Camry very slowly, and followed closely by another slow moving car with its hazards on as well. I was not a bit surprised.

"Here's the car that we called you about yesterday," the driver tells Katie.

"You mean the one with the blown fuse?" she asked.

"We looked, it's more serious than that," he says.

"OK, I'll tell Gonzo," Katie said trying to hide her snickering smile.

She came out to the shop and told me about it. I had to laugh. Even though I had no clue what was really wrong with it, I was pretty sure it was a fuse, well, at least it sounded like a fuse to me.

It idled its way around the front of the shop and into a service bay, while I passed the time watching the dash gauges, playing with radio, seat heaters and just about anything else I could think of. The service light was on; I could see that from the start of my slow journey. But I couldn't go get the scanner right at the moment. I was busy creeping around the building at a snail's pace.

The code was for the TCS (throttle control system), and the diagnostic tree was extremely long. Sometimes I wonder who writes these things. You know it would be a lot easier if it would start with the basics, like grounds, powers and resistance levels. But no… not a chance. They have to go thru a series of steps that all pertain to the system, but not even getting close to the cause of the problem. The test started out with an explanation of the code; low voltage has been detected by the PCM for the TCS. Great, that's sounding like a fuse to me. I could have stopped there, but I decided to keep reading. Then it wanted to know the scope readings and then continuity between each wire. Finally around steps 10 or 12 the test got to the good part… "Check the fuse". How about instead of going all the way thru pages of diagnostic tree mumbo-jumbo you start the friggin procedure at step one with ---- "CHECK THE FUSE" --- geez!

I finally got the answer I was looking for. Well, what do ya know, the fuse is blown. I changed the fuse and cleared the code… all is well with the little Camry.

Katie called Doug to let him know it was ready. Since it was for Doug and all… I couldn't resist having some fun with his misfortune. I wrote the invoice up with a few "special" informative automotive terms.

She started to read what I wrote on the invoice to him, "The PCM has found a low voltage signal present at the TCS. Further diagnostics was needed to confirm a loss of signal voltage was present. The FCA (Fuse control assembly) (made that up on the spot!) had an open protective devise to the TCS, the PCM was not receiving an input signal that would allow the TCS to respond. Reconfiguring of the FCA was needed to initiate electro-balance of the current draw to the PCM. (Man, sometimes I can come up with some wild stuff to write on an invoice.)

Doug was getting a little nervous, "OMG, can he fix it… aw, geez, this is bad isn't it? Awe, man, this is going to cost me a bundle."

Katie, being Katie, put the screws to him. Played it up for awhile, and then let him off the hook, "Well, Doug, I could leave out all that technical stuff, and try to give you an answer that would be easier to understand?"

"Sure, hit me with the bad news. I can take it."

"The fuse was blown."

Doug holds the phone up against his chest so Kate can't hear what he yells back to one of his guys in the shop.

"Dang it, I thought you said you checked all the fuses?"

Then turning back to Katie, "Aw geez, why me? Ok, we'll be over to pick it up. The butt kickin will commence in just a second."

Ah, yes, another day at the shop, and another butt kickin' in progress. I hope the rest of Doug's day goes better. As for me, I'm sure glad I was right about this one… wouldn't be much of a story if it was something besides a fuse.

I would have loved to have had a camera mounted on the car to watch the embarrassment of idling a car across town thru the intersections and all the usual traffic. And then one on Doug, just to see his face when he found out it was only a fuse. Yea, I think a butt kickin is in order on this one. Ya made my day Dougie… you and your guys may not know electrical, but you do know body work. Some of the best in town… you're one butt kickin bodyshop!

These stories are here before publication or final editing. Leave a comment and let me know what you think of it. Visit my website for even more stories and automotive trivia. www.gonzostoolbox.com

As the years start sliding by, I don't remember all the details on every job, especially the daily typical jobs that don't present a problem. So when someone comes into the shop with an issue on a past repair, and my memory doesn't even recall the job, paperwork makes a difference.

A strange traveler comes thru the front door clutching the remains of what he referred to as his distributor cap and rotor. It was nothing more than several small pieces of plastic, most of which were no larger than an inch or two. It was the color of a distributor cap, I'll give him that. And, there's no doubt the pieces could be described as car parts… but at this point it was hard to tell for sure what they really are.

Not even recognizing this guy as an old customer, I asked, "What can I do for you?"

He carefully placed the pieces on the counter, making sure not to lose even one scrap of plastic. He piled them all together ever so carefully, as if they were some sort of archeologist find. He seemed very shaky, nervous, and not quite all there. Looking up slowly at me he points at his little creation lying on the counter.

"I'd like my money back on this."

Now let's think about this….. An unknown person walks into your place of business holding onto shards of plastic, and is asking you to give his money back. I think you'd better start asking a lot of questions.

"Now why would I want to do that?" I asked, while looking at this small pile of gray matter, still not sure of the reasoning behind all of this.

"I drove my truck to the coast, and when I got there it quit running. I had to have it towed to a shop, and they said you didn't have this on right. So I'm here to get my money back," the nervous, frustrated, and starting to get upset customer said.

Now mind you, I'm nowhere near any coast. The last time I checked a map, Oklahoma still doesn't have any beach front. I'm not taking this as some sort of joke; I'm going to get to the bottom of this problem. This beach bum is dead serious, and he's getting pretty demanding about the whole thing. The only problem I have is I don't remember when I did all of this.

"How long ago did you have this installed?" I asked.

"Not that long ago," he answered.

"Do you have an invoice?"

"No."

Was that any surprise? Of course not, did ya ever notice most of the "complainers" generally don't have any proper paperwork. But, the person who keeps repair receipts as an important part of their car's history usually doesn't have these kinds of unusual problems. The only thing this road warrior has is an attitude.

"I'll need your name and car information, I'll see if I can find something for you."

As I dug thru the files, my not so patient globe trekker was drumming his fingers on the counter showing his contempt for everything I was doing. The more I dug the more frustrated this guy was getting. His constant drumming on the counter was turning into a nervous pace. One second leaning as far as he could over the counter to see what I was doing, the next he was hanging onto the end of the counter by his finger tips, while leaning as far back as he could possibly go, then pace to the other end of the counter…. and do the same thing all over again.

"Do you have any idea when you had it in the shop?" I asked again.

"Yea, it was about 2 years ago man," still swaggering back and forth.

The files went flying and landed with a "smack" on top of the counter. I rested my shaking head on my hands with both elbows on the desk. Then, turned to look at this guy (whom I still don't recognize), and stared in disbelief.

"2 years? Well, if there was any kind of warranty on the parts its run its course by now."

"You better do something, otherwise I'm going to go to the BBB and complain!" he shouted at me.

The BBB, really, I could have guessed that… this guy fits the mold. A person, who shouts and complains about things that probably have other explanations than the one they have created in their own little mind. While the whole thing is based on information they have gathered from an unknown third party. And, not one stitch of documentation to prove their point. Sounds about right…!

"Make sure you spell my name correctly when ya do, buddy," I shouted back, "You can head back to the coast for all I care. I'm going to do you and me a big favor, and ask you to leave."

I guess the guy wasn't expecting a comeback like that. Could have been this guys medication has finally kicked in. Because he just stood there in shock. All his drumming and pacing came to a stop. Now it's the statue routine, stand there and stare at me … stone sober and motionless.

"So you're not going to do anything about it?" he bantered back.

"Sir, it's like this. I don't remember you ever coming in here. You don't have any paperwork, and you tell me it's been 2 years since anything was done. I can't remember any small engine parts that are warranted for that long. And, I can't think of anything I would have sold with a warranty for that long without some paperwork with it. Engines, transmissions may have longer warranties but there is a series of paperwork trails that can be followed all the way back to the manufacturer. With your problem, there are too many opportunities for something else to be the cause of the failure."

"So I'm just out the money I spent."

"Sorry, but I can't take your word for your problems. I need paperwork or something from the last shop that would verify the repairs. Do you have any of that?"

"No."

"You're out of luck my friend," I told him.

He left without another word. And there on the counter were the remains of his archeological find. To think this guy carefully transported the remains of his trucks entrails across the country to deliver them back to the counter from which they supposedly came from. Only to leave them laying there all alone, without even a second thought.

I had time to examine the plastic bits; most of the pieces were indescribable. I'm not even sure it's a distributor cap. In fact some of the pieces looked as if they were smashed with a hammer. Hmmm, now I'm wondering… who really was being taken advantage of here?

I never heard from this guy again. I guess he is out traveling somewhere across the country with another handful of car parts as his passenger. Maybe, he's heading to your shop next. If he hasn't shown up yet, I'll give ya a little heads up. He's the guy that carries his own busted parts into the lobby and demands service based on his third party expertise, and probably doesn't have any paperwork to go with it.

You'll know him when ya see him.

These stories are here before final editing and publication. You get to be the first to check them out. Enjoy!

Let’s talk diagnostics. Do you follow any kind of diagnostic procedure, or do you just throw darts on a wall, or play “pick-a-part” and hope you fix it before you or the customer runs out of cash. I hope you don’t do that. That might work some of the time, but it’s not a good way to get to the source of problems quickly or accurately.

One of the tire shops that I do business with dropped off a 2003 F450 with a 7.3 diesel for me to look at. It’s one of their service trucks that died on the highway.

These guys are super, I’ve known them for years, and they’ve got a great reputation and excellent work force. In fact, I buy all my tires there, and they do all my alignments. They try to fix their own trucks “in-house” and sometimes, well……the repair/diagnostics are a little out of their comfort zone. This was one of those times.

Now, they don’t try to keep up with the scanning or diagnostics on most cars and trucks. It’s a tire shop that specializes in tires. They stick to what they do best, tires, wheels, and undercarriage stuff. The only “techy” stuff they get into is with the TPM systems. Most generally, when it comes to their vehicles they’ll go with the tried and true…”throw a dart and whatever it hits we’ll change.” Of course they’ll ask around first, but you know, second hand information hardly ever gets the job done these days.

They had it at one of their stores in another town for about 3 weeks trying to solve the problem. When that didn’t work they decided to tow it up to another one of their stores, and see if the guys there had a better dart. Another couple of weeks and several darts later, all they had were holes in the wall and no truck running. Then my phone rang.

“Can you program a PCM on a F450?” the shop asked.

“No, sorry I don’t do those, but I know who does. I’ll call him and see if he can come over and do that for you,” I told them.

A day or two went by and the phone rang again. “Hey, this thing still doesn’t start. The guy that programmed it said it sounded like an electrical problem”. Ok, somehow, I’m getting involved now.

“Sure, bring it over,” I told them.

Well, they towed it over with a strap pulled by an F250 diesel truck. The F250 looked like a toy truck compared to this behemoth. With a push and a shove from the F250 the guys got it lined up and into one of my service bays.

The big concern was the IDM relay, it kept chattering like a machine gun. Instead of checking codes I thought it best just to start with a complete wire to wire check to determine if there was some lost signal that was causing the problem, or a wire that was scraped and grounding out. Removing the inner fender on the driver side I could gain access to the Injector module (IDM) and the PCM (Power control module). Seemed easier to start here than any place else. It didn’t take long before I tracked down a problem. On pin #71 of the (new) PCM there should have been 12 volts from the ignition. No voltage at the terminal.

Tracing the wiring diagram thru its maze it led back to the in-car fuse box on fuse #22. I grabbed my test light and checked the fuse… (Rolling my eyes about now) the fuse,… oh man… the fuse is blown. Good grief… all this for a blown fuse.

Well, better change the fuse, and see if it starts. Sure enough; it fired right up… sounded great, good throttle response, and no service lights.

Now the big challenge, what blew the fuse in the first place? Following the wiring diagram again…. I traced out all the components on the fuse circuit. There was one that caught my eye as the likely culprit. The brake cut-off switch mounted on the master cylinder. (It’s the one that had the big recall a few years ago.)

The updated replacement piece was in place but somebody forgot to secure the wires. The replacement piece has a newer style connector and an adapter connector to allow you to attach it to the original style fastener. Which makes it a little longer than it originally was from the factory. It was hard to tell where the new wire and connector started, and the old one ended, because the whole thing was lying on the exhaust manifold, and had melted down to a glob of wire and plastic.

Looking around under the hood there were all kinds of new parts installed. The nicest part……they were all installed correctly. There were no other wires out of place, or any signs of scraps or melted wiring. The important thing is that it runs, and the truck can go back to doing what it needs to do. I think the biggest thing that threw everyone on this job was the chattering relay. It sounded bad, sounded expensive… but, all it turned out to be was a loss of proper voltage to the PCM, because a fuse blew from a lead that grounded out. This was due to the improper installation of one small component.

The PCM couldn’t spread enough voltage and ground signals to all the necessary systems when it was missing the voltage it needed. As the relay would engage, the voltage drop was too much to keep the relay engaged. The IDM would pull more signal voltage as the relay would come to life. Then the PCM would have to drop the ground signal to the IDM relay to compensate for the loss of voltage. All this was going on very rapidly … on and off, on and off… making the machine gun sound coming from the IDM relay.

The guys at the tire store were extremely grateful that I got the job done, so they could use the truck again. For me, it’s another day at the shop. I’ve got nothing but good things to say about the guys at the tire shop. Hey they tried, I’ll give them that.

But one thing I wish they would do next time --- CHECK THE BASICS—BEFORE BUYING PARTS! It’s cheaper that way…

I'd like to thank ASO for allowing me to post these stories. Everyone here gets to see them before I send them to the editors for final approval. Not all stories make it into print and a lot of times I use your comments and interests in the story as a gauge to whether send them on. (Ya haven't let me down yet...!)

Enjoy, any comments you have are appreciated. Gonzo

visit my website for additional stories and info www.gonzostoolbox.com

Before my father passed away we spent several years under the hood of cars working together at my shop. He was an old school repair guy. Always looking out for the customer, and wanting to do that little bit extra for them. You know, adjust that crooked license plate, grease the door hinges before they pulled away from the shop, that kind of thing.

I usually did the diagnostic work, and he would stick with the mechanical repairs. But most of the time his favorite thing to do was to entertain the customer while I figured out the problem. The one thing that would give him fits was the way a customer would react after I diagnosed the problem, especially if I diagnosed it quickly. A quick diagnostic might be fine for some people, but others it was more of a matter of pride that their "regular" mechanic hadn't found it so quickly, or that the customer themselves didn't find it so easily. It didn't set well with them. I got the impression that a quick diagnosis led to some sort of mistrust with my abilities, or that I didn't thoroughly examine the problem to their satisfaction. A lot of times it had more to do with the previous technician taking so much time and not coming up with an answer, so they think it can't be that simple.

Dad had his own answer for it. He was going to get one of those aluminum foil fire suits, a couple of tall curtains on moveable stands, a disco ball, and some strobe lights. His idea was to pull the car into this "special" diagnostic area turn on the strobe lights and hang the disco ball over the car. Stick the suit on and make some comment like, "I'm going in…" and then let the light show begin. After a few minutes, come out from behind the curtain wall, whip off the aluminum fire suit hood and say something like, "Whoo that was a tough one." Maybe then, these types of people would be more likely to believe the results of a quick diagnosis.

We never tried it, but I think about doing it from time to time. With the advent of the scanners to read and show detailed parameters diagnosing has taken on a whole new approach. A lot of problems are a matter of following the diagnostic tree correctly to get to the source of the problem. (Codes don't fix cars… codes are the starting point) Sometimes it's a quick trip on the diagnostic ladder, and other times it's quite lengthy. It really depends on the problem, of course.

Trying to be quick and on the right track with every diagnosis is what makes the money in the shop. Stalling the results just for the sake of making it look like it was an extensive search to find the problem doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Then on the other hand, I sometimes believe this is one of the many reasons why a doctor has you wait so long for his 10 minutes of time. Even though he may have walked into the exam room, looked at the chart, took some quick looks at you, and back out of the exam room in less than 10 minutes, I'll guarantee his bill isn't going to show a 10 minute charge on it. But, in my business, time is money… and most customers are watching the clock.

Back in the days when my father and I worked together, he came across an old Bosch injector tester for the early K and L injection systems. The old tester was done for. Not only was it dated, it had several missing connectors and the information booklet didn't come with it. I took it apart and rewired it as a large volt meter, with a lighted buzzer attached to a separate set of wires. We then rigged up a swinging arm mounted to the wall out of PVC pipe. The pipe contained the wires to the tester that we mounted on the wall. It was more for decoration than usable, but it was kinda cool in its own funky way.

Anytime we got one of those "lookylews" (one of my dad's favorite words), you know the type, the kind that has to hover over the hood while you're working on it. Dad would motion to me to wire up the buzzer to the battery, and use it as a way to find the draw or short in the car. His job was to entertain, while I looked for the problem. Most of the time, I'd study the wiring diagrams, determine the most likely spot for the problem, and find the solution. As I would get close to the problem I would intentionally ground out the buzzer on the wall, and it would make a horrible noise. Dad would make a comment to the customer as to what was going on. His old school charm was what made the difference. At times this whole thing would get quite humorous. I'd be lying under the dash zapping the buzzer and good old dad would be working his magic with his broad smile, and his quirky sense of humor.

These days the electronic scanners have somewhat evened the playing field. To some degree the abilities of a good tech are now wrapped up in a good quality diagnostic machine. But it still takes a good tech to understand it, and evaluate the information he/she sees on the screen.

I still try to diagnose things as fast and accurately as I can. I don't have the old buzzer, or my dad's inventive conversations with the customers to help me with the diagnostics. It's a memory I'll never forget. But, I'll always keep in mind some of those lessons from my father… "Take your time son, you're good… but they (the customer) don't know how good you are… so you'll have to prove it to them each and every time."

Old school wisdom is still important, and fatherly advice is some of the best.

Thanx for taking time to read my stories. These stories are here for your enjoyment and before final editing. As a shop owner, an author, and a syndicated columnist I spend an equal amount of time writing as well as turning wrenches. So each week I try to introduce one new story for everyone to read. Your comments are extremely valuable to me to find out what you think of the stories.

Leave a comment and visit my webiste www.gonzostoolbox.om for more auto info.

Thanx again, Gonzo

Sometimes I wonder if the things I find wrong with some of these cars are just there for me to find out how ridiculous some people can be. I've got to question the thought process of the brilliant ideas that some people can have, just before total stupidity takes over. I gotta ask… "What were you thinking?"

The other day I had a late 90's GM in the shop. The owner had recently bought it off of a small car lot, and had no idea of the history of the vehicle. It was one of those "great deals" that he couldn't pass up. Why is it these "great" deals always have some sort of catch to them? Maybe it would be a good idea to have it checked out before you buy it. After looking at it, I might tell you to "pass it up". Honestly, I'll never understand why someone will buy a used car when they know nothing about it, or decide after they buy it to finally have it checked out … but they do.

This particular creation had some strange problems. It had a strange battery drain. At first glance all the instrument cluster warning lights, interior lights, and all the electrical functions seemed to be working correctly. There was a drain, a good one too. Strong enough to drain the battery in a day, or so. Finding the solution actually was going to lead to an even bigger problem.

Narrowing it down by watching the amp meter for the parasitic draw value, and pulling fuses till the numbers dropped back into factory specs was the next procedure. Of all things, it ended up back to a crossed up circuit between the air bag system and the charging system. I decided to check the air bag system for codes.

This is interesting, it's off line. No communication with the crash box. Hmmm, I'm a little confused, because I know I saw the air bag light come on and go off when I pulled it into the shop. Turning the key off, and then restarting the car didn't help me much, because the air bag light was on… and then off. But then, maybe it did. Like I said, the light came on, and then went off… hey, wait a minute isn't there supposed to be a few seconds before it goes off? Isn't this how it verifies its systems are functioning properly? I thought so. So, what's going on here?

As a technician I'm trying to follow the codes, the diagnostic charts, and the operating description of the system I'm working on. This particular problem wasn't following the chain of typical scenarios. Take in account this whole thing started off because of a battery drain… I'm really starting to scratch my head over this one.

I had a lot of different ways to go with this one. I could try and follow the draw a little further, or I could chase the problem from the air bag side of it. Maybe, it will all lead to the same problem. For my money I think I'll work on it from the air bag side of the problem.

The air bag fuses were all good, and the light did come on in the dash. So, I decided to pull the air bag diagnostic module out and pin check the leads to see if that lead anywhere. My first check on any system is the positive signals and then the grounds. Why's that you ask? Because a loss of ground can be seen as an open lead, and if the positive signals are there, you'll actually find a voltage signal on the open ground. That's what electricity wants to do… find ground, and find the shortest path back to the source of the voltage.

In this case they were all there, but when I checked the leads to the instrument cluster the voltage was coming towards the crash box rather than to the cluster. What now? (I love my job, I love my job, repeat as necessary) I guess I better pull the cluster and check the wiring from there back to the crash box and see if that leads anywhere.

After pulling the dash it didn't take a rocket scientist to see what the problem was. On the back of the instrument cluster somebody had cut the circuit board line to the air bag light, and then added a soldered-on wire to the charge light. So when the charge light was on, so was the air bag light. Once the car started (providing the charging system is working correctly) the charge light would go out, and so would the air bag light. Huh???

You can imagine my "mechanical language" was not for the faint of heart when I found out what was going on. It seems some genius didn't want to replace the air bag module, so they invented their own air bag warning light instead. Brilliant stupidity… I think that's the best way to explain it. I can't imagine somebody went thru all the trouble to deceive the buyer of this car for a safety issue such as air bags. It should be a criminal offense.

After undoing the homemade airbag light, the draw was completely gone. Now the only thing to do was to replace the air bag module to bring it back up to working order. I'm not saying anybody would have caught the problem at first glance. It was a well thought out deception. If you were not intentionally looking for an air bag light delay, I don't think you would have caught the problem.

Leave it to some unscrupulous dork out there to try something like this. But, I still think it is a good idea to have the car checked out prior to buying it. Maybe, just maybe, you can spot problems like this before you own the problem.

these stories are here before finally editing. Your comments are welcome and always love to hear from everyone. If you have a similar story, let me know.

Watch for my articles in several automotive trade magazines. Gonzo

There's one thing I'd like to have back from my youthful days …my flexibility. All that movement and bending I used to do; contorting like some circus act and getting up from it all with no ill effects. Yea, that'd be nice, because I still need some of that flexibility today.

I've gotten myself into a lot of crazy positions over the years, and it's not getting any easier. After all these years I still have to get my head under a dash like some acrobatic act. I don't know about you, but I find rolling down the window and sticking my feet out of it works better than bending my back in some awkward positions.

Its bad enough being under there but it makes it worse that I have to wear "cheaters" so I don't have to try and bend my head back so far to find the bifocals, and squeezed under the dash is not the appropriate time to lose that flexibility. At times I've had my whole arm shoved through some air conditioning duct looking for a mouse nest, retrieving little "Tommy's" favorite school pencil, or a valuable ring that made its way down the heater vents.

But there was this one car I'll never forget. A little Mazda Miata convertible came in the shop one day. It was more than your normal street driven Mazda, it had a full roll cage welded into the car. It still had the factory doors on it but they were practically useless. Oh they opened, but you would have to be extremely small to fit under the roll cage bars and squirm your way into the driver's seat. I would guess there was about a 2 foot opening between the bars. The main roll bar support was welded between the hinge area of the door and the door opening. This formed the convertible top arch, and came down into the back seat area. To make it even stiffer, they added a horizontal bar just above top of the seat cushion. It was welded to both ends of the arched piece. It wasn't a small pipe either; more like about 3 or so inches in diameter. The factory seats were replaced with those hard plastic racing seats, which made it even worse to crawl into the car.

I found it a lot easier to do one of those "Dukes of Hazards" leaps into the thing. It wouldn't start, that's why it was at my shop in the first place, so crawling around on it was part of the job. This thing was set up to go racing, from top to bottom, but retained the street look from the outside of the vehicle. It meant business. (Ok, it's still a Miata though.) It had two problems, one which turned out to be just as difficult as the other one. The crank sensor hold down bolt had sheared off even with the block. That alone took some dexterity to remove the broken section.

The other problem was someone took the computer out of the car. (I think somebody thought it was a ECM problem, when it really was probably only the broken bolt to the crank sensor.) The ECM had been removed by another shop, but after it was removed the owner of the car wasn't getting along with them at all so he had it brought over to my shop. The computer was also "hopped-up" for racing (where people find the places to do this to their cars, never ceases to amaze me.) The computer was under the center section of the dash below the ash tray area. It would have been a piece of cake to get to, if you could squeeze between the door and the roll cage. Not happening, sorry… even with the doors wide open the roll cage took up most of the door opening.

There was only one way I was going to get to that part of the car. Head first down thru the top, dangling your feet and butt over the back of the seats and the horizontal tie bar that ran from side to side of the roll cage. All this while guiding both arms through the now darkening floor area, keeping in mind you have a ratchet with a 10mm socket on it, the ECM, a small screw driver between your teeth (don't drop it) and a flash light.

With all the blood rushing to your head and your entire weight resting on the top of your skull it wasn't the most comfortable position to be in. To make it even worse, you had to move from one side of the foot well to the other to get all the bolts installed. The whole time I was doing this upside down side show act, I kept thinking, if the shop suddenly caught fire, they would find me right here just like this, upside down, feet straight up in the air, and that pocket screwdriver still clenched between my teeth. (Still ain't dropped it.)

The worst part about it, once I got in there, I never put any thought on how I was going to get out. It's not like I have the strength to do a "stand on your head pushup". Come on, I'm not that young anymore, and besides, I don't think I could have done one of those even back in my younger days when I was in the Marine Corps and worked out everyday.

The only way I could get out of there was to corkscrew myself off my back and get over onto my side, slip down into the back seat area (ain't much of a back seat) and duck around the roll cage bars, all the while trying to keep from blacking out. Mind you, those race seats don't have any give to them, and very little padding. Oh, the things I get into… and out of.

What a day that was. I hope the owner never wants me to change that computer again. But, I'm sure there will be an even more difficult one out there sometime in the future. I'll have to pass on them anymore. It's that flexibility thing, you know. I play a lot of golf to help retain some of that "youthful" flexibility, (at least that's the excuse I'm giving the wife). But, there's one thing for sure; the older I get, the more I'm going to avoid standing on my head in tiny cars with roll bars and racing seats in them.

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Thanks for reading my stories, they are here before final editing and publishing. Your comments help me decide which ones get sent onto my publishers.

Leave a comment and don't forget to stop by my website www.gonzostoolbox.com

It was a hot summer day and the humidity was high in the shop when I starting working on one of my regular customer’s new found gems. It was a late 50’s Chrysler, a big old boat of a thing with lots of bells and whistles under the hood and dash. Nothing was added, everything was original and in fairly good shape. You could tell this car has never been left outside for any length of time. The paint finish showed no signs of aging or fading. The interior was very clean, and without a single defect. Even the carpet and headliner had that new “old” look to it.

He wanted me to go thru the electrical components on the car and see if I could get it all in working order. It had it all, radio, electric seats, power windows, power antenna, and just about anything else they could think of putting on a car in those days. I would try each window switch and each knob on the dash to make sure everything worked correctly. The turn signal indicators blinked on the tips of the fenders as well as in the dash. The heater blower motor hummed as if it was brand new. All the speeds worked on the wipers and even the reverse lights worked. It was truly a time piece of early Americana ingenuity.

The only thing I found “not” working was this contraption under the hood. It was about the size of a shoe box. I took the cover off of it to see what all the wires were leading to. Inside the box were several early glass vacuum tubes and a dusty old circuit board with a few resistors and what appeared to be a voltage controller of some sort. Luckily, the new owner had the factory manuals with the car. Even the manual was well taken care of. Not a single torn edge or creased page. I carefully went thru the old manual so as to not do any damage to this priceless book. In the back section were all of the wiring diagrams right down to the size of the resistors on the circuits. (Let’s see the manufacturer put that info out these days…)

I studied the diagram carefully and found out what this thing was. It’s an early automatic dimming headlight system. Way cool, wow, I’ve never seen one of these. But I could tell by just reading the prints how this thing worked. I went straight to solving the problem. Luckily (I think) I’m old enough to have had some training in the old TV tube era. Those classes sure were coming in handy now. It really didn’t turn out to be all that bad. The photocell in the front grill was disconnected, and the shoe box of tubes was in need of cleaning and attaching all the connectors back onto the board.

I reached in and turned on the “auto” system… the tubes started to glow… wow… this is exciting! (Can ya imagine… a grown man getting a thrill out of watching old TV tubes warm up… I really need to get out in the real world a little more often…). There was a hum and a crackle of the tube grids… I could hear the unmistakable sound of the tubes coming up to temperature. The humming subsided a bit, and leveled off to a light electrical buzz of an old TV set. By now I was expecting to see the headlights come on by themselves. Nothing, nada, zip… crud… it’s still not working. I went back to the old manual and followed the diagram some more.

At the very bottom edge of the page it showed a single lead going to the floor dimmer switch. Ok, I guess I’ll look there. By now its mid afternoon, and the humidity level in the shop is at its highest. I’m all hot, sweaty, and probably a little dehydrated. I stretched across that huge metal threshold and pulled the carpet back. Lying right there next to the dimmer switch connection was that single wire. I plugged it in… waited a second… nothing… so I reached over and pushed the dimmer switch with my hand. JumPin’ Gee’ ZaPPin’ ZING! WTF was that! I was jiggling around as if I was holding onto the electric fence at my Granddad’s farm. Now I know exactly how bacon feels when ya throw it into that hot skillet. I’m glad nobody saw me, because I probably looked like a fish flopping out of water the way I was wriggling around. HOLY Shhhhht! That smarts! ! !

After the ringing in my ears and the tunnel vision vanished, and everything returned back to normal I gave up on the wiring diagram and instead read how the system worked in the front section of the book. It turns out that driver’s “soled” shoe acts as the final ground to activate the system. It used a high amperage circuit to make the connection between driver and the automatic control unit out under the hood. To activate it you merely rested your foot on top of the dimmer for a moment. I guess if you were barefoot… you’d be in for quite a shock. It’s probably why the whole thing was disconnected in the first place. But, I’ll have to say… it does work, the headlights will dim and come on by themselves.

Just don’t lay on a metal threshold on a hot humid day… all hot and sweaty, then grab hold of the dimmer switch with your sweaty palm… cause it won’t be lights on… it’ll be LIGHTS OUT!

Always love to hear from everyone, the stories are here for your enjoyment. I'll do the final editing later, but right now you guys get to be the first to see them.

Enjoy, and don't forget to leave a comment.

check out my website for more stories, photos, product reviews, and other automotive related stuff. www.gonzostoolbox.com see ya!

I'm an avid golfer. You can ask my wife; she'll tell you. There's hardly a weekend that goes by that I'm not out on a course somewhere. I've got a regular group I play with each weekend. None of us are all that exceptional, but we enjoy the game and the company. We all know what it takes to play the game, and understand even more that practice does not make perfect, but perfect practice makes for perfect play.

I try to keep this in mind when I'm at the shop. The best practice for me is doing the job correctly, and not cutting corners for the sake of cost or time. When a problem is compounded with cheap parts, it doesn't make the repair any easier. Especially if the customer doesn't recognize the difference between a good quality part and those cheap knock offs out there.

A referral job came into the shop the other day. He said he had a battery drain problem, but had tried everything to solve it. The problem had been going on for years. Each and every time he would take it into a repair shop the answer was always, "It's the battery." He wasn't buying that anymore, there had to be more to it.

Hole no#1

That afternoon the Jeep Cherokee was dropped off for me to try my hand at solving the problem. I didn't get off the first "T" box, before I found a problem The battery tester showed a faulty cell in the battery, and to top things off the battery was the wrong size for the car. Not only that, it was one of those cheap second rate batteries sold at some of the discount stores. I guess for some people that's OK with them, but for me it's a for sure "Bogie".

Off to Hole no#2

Of course, there are some people who believe there is no difference between the higher priced batteries and the cheap "off brands". I beg to differ… they're cheap for a reason. For some, the realization of this only happens after they have had a couple of triples, or the dreaded "snow man" (that's an "8" for the non-golfers out there), before they realize that there is a difference in quality and price.

Hole no#3

After replacing the battery (with a good one) I did find a small draw on the system. It happened to be coming from the instrument cluster. On this year and model the horn fuse also sends a constant voltage to the tachometer in the cluster, even while the key is off.

Hole no#4

The draw was extremely small. I might have overlooked this small draw, but since this was an on-going problem I thought I would check into it a little further. There wasn't anything else wrong with the vehicle. It was a clean well kept ride, no extras added on, and even the engine bay was well detailed.

Holes no#5&6

As it was a back-up vehicle, and not his daily driver, any sort of abnormal draw would definitely turn into a dead battery. I called him, and gave him the bad news. His main problem wasn't so much the draw that I found, but the battery situation. Since this is what everyone else was telling him, he wasn't convinced that it was part of his problem. I started to sound like all the other shops that had looked at his car, so there was some doubt.

Making the turn

He showed up later that day to grab his battery for replacement. I carried the battery out to his car for him. He still wasn't convinced that the battery was part of the problem, but because the printout from the battery scanner showed the bad cell he was willing to replace it, again.

"How many times have you replaced it?" I asked.

"This will make the 4^th time I've taken the battery back within the last 6 months. The first one leaked, the next one had a loose post, and the last one went dead after the first day, and never would take a charge," he tells me, while lifting the tail gate to his daily driver.

Hole no# 15

There in the back of his car was a set of golf clubs. As he slid his golf clubs off to one side to make room for the battery, I couldn't help but notice they looked like new clubs.

"New clubs, Calloways right?" I said.

"Yea, just got them. I traded in my old set for these. What a difference it makes to play with good quality clubs," he proudly tells me.

Even though I'm a weekend hacker, I thought I might use this opportunity to give a quick golf lesson.

"What did you play with before?"

"Oh, just some knock off clubs, they were alright, but you sure can tell the difference when you play with the good quality stuff," patting his clubs carefully while placing a towel over them.

"Did ya ever think that automotive batteries are manufactured just like those golf clubs?"

"I'm not following you," he says.

"There are cheaper golf clubs that can do the job, but better equipment can improve your game. The same thing with car parts; if you buy cheap parts, you're more than likely adding to the problem if the cheaper part fails prematurely. Golf clubs, car batteries, it doesn't matter. There's always better, best, and of course a whole lot of worse out there," I told him.

"So you're suggesting buy better parts?"

"Just like the golf clubs," I said.

"Hey, that makes sense. I wonder why I never thought about that? More people need to know about cheap parts, and what you gain by paying just a bit more… I get it… thanks."

To the 17th

"Cars are my business and knowing cheap vs. good parts is part of my job. This is where my experience pays off for you, the consumer. I've been around long enough to know what a good part is, and what's not," I told my golf playing customer.

"That makes so much sense. It's unbelievable I would ever think I knew enough about car batteries to know which one was a good one, and which one is not. (Laughing now) Funny you should tell me all of this, because that's what the guy at the pro shop said when I was looking at changing clubs. The pro at the golf shop suggested letting him use his expertise to find that right set of clubs for me," my birdie putting customer tells me.

Mulligan

That afternoon he called back, seems the department store's battery department didn't want to give him his money back. And their reasoning behind it?... Oh this is priceless… they told him:

"The battery they originally sold me is not the correct battery for the truck, so they can't warranty it any more, or give me my money back. Then they tell me that if I would have purchased the correct battery size in the first place they would have no problem warranting it."

For real? You've got to be kidding me. I've heard of all kinds of reasons why you couldn't honor a warranty, but the fact that they sold him the wrong battery is a new one on me. You'd think after 3 attempts at replacing the battery that someone there would have checked to see if it was the correct battery. Unbelievable. Needless to say, I had to get involved and press the battery salesman to cough up the cash.

18^th hole

With the draw repaired and a decent battery installed, there wasn't much else to do except look forward to the next weekend golf game. At least now this guy could get back to driving golf balls, and not worry about his Jeep sitting at home.

I think he learned a valuable lesson that there is a difference in the manufacturing of quality automotive components and where you purchase them. Using golf as a comparison worked well for this customer. I'm not a pro golfer, but I'm a pro in my field, and sometimes I might know a thing or two about my favorite pastime. At least as a golf playing-mechanic I can show my expertise where it counts. Maybe even putt for an eagle once in awhile, or shave off a stroke or two on my handicap.

Whether it's a round of golf or diagnosing automotive problems it still comes down to the same thing-- quality, good information and practice.

I'd like to thank everyone that reads my stories. ASO is the place where I preview my articles/stories before they go to the editors. Some stories make it, some get changed, and some get rewritten. But, eventually they all go out for publication.

If you don't have a subscription to some of the magazines that I write for here's a couple of the websites to go to and sign up for them. They are all free subscriptions.. no cost to you at all.

www.brakeandfrontend.com, www.import-car.com, www.underhoodservice.com, www.autobodynews.com, these are the magazines that have actual printed copies. There's more but they don't have websites (hard to believe in this day and age)

Also, there are web based sites only... that I write for.

You can also leave comments on the websites for my stories too.

Leave a comment, always love to hear you comments. Thanx again. Gonzo

Dad came into the shop asking for a prybar. I gave him one, and he went back out to try and get the safety chains off the car and dolly. It took awhile, but when I looked outside the car was sitting in the parking lot, and the tow vehicle, dad, and his huge son were gone… hey, wait a minute… so is my prybar !! I ran up to the office to make sure Katie (my daughter and office manager) had some info on the two. She did, so at least I'm not out a prybar. When I walked back out to the shop and looked outside… the car… the car has vanished!

Now I'm getting a little steamed. I know I saw the car sitting there, and now it's gone. I looked out into the main street in front of the shop; there was the tow vehicle, the tow dolly, and fat son himself. Now it's time for me to see what's going on. The son was just getting back into the truck when I caught up with him.

"Where's the car you guys just took off the dolly? Do ya still need that prybar?" I asked.

He mumbled something and pointed down the street. There far off in the distance almost 2 blocks away was the car, and old dad hanging onto the driver's door bent over gasping for air.

Now how did the car get from my shop parking lot and down the street? The big son wasn't even breaking a sweat; do you mean to tell me the old guy pushed it by himself? I haven't a clue, but I'm sure I'm going to ask when it gets back up here. The son drove off to get the car, with the dolly still attached to the truck. Old dad attached a chain to the dolly and the other end to the car. As they started to pull the car the two dolly's wheels came off the ground and made a near straight line with the chain and the car. The son used the truck to pull the car back up to the shop parking lot while old dad drove the car.

I'm still curious where my prybar has gone. Must have taken a little trip down the block with the car, I guess. I looked up again a few minutes later, and there was the car back in the shop parking lot, but now the two front tires were nearly flat. By now, I'm not even concerned with what's wrong with the car. I'm not even going to try and figure out what these guys are doing. As long as the car is here I've got a chance of finding my prybar. Back to work for now, I'll deal with that later.

The shop office doorbell rang, so I guess the two of them are up talking to Katie. She came out to the shop to let me in on what the car pushing pop wanted me to look at on the car.

"Is that a real nice car, Dad?" she asks while carrying my prybar out to me.

"That thing, it's just another old car… nothing special," I told her.

Along with the usual name and phone number the guy made it a point to tell Katie how nice a car it was. Well, it's OK I guess, but looking at it I wouldn't call it nice. Unless faded paint, dented bumpers, rusty brake rotors, and torn interior is a "nice car" well then… It's a nice car… (Sarcastic answer obviously.) Turns out, the car has been at another shop for over a year. The old guy had decided that the other shop probably had no idea what they were doing. (You took a year to figure that out?) Now it's my job to figure it out.

As Katie walked back up to the front office I asked her a question, "Katie, why did they let the air out of the tires?"

Without even stopping she yelled over her shoulder while throwing one arm up over her head in disgust.

"Oh, something about getting the chains off of the tires. I thought the old guy was pretty worn out myself."

"So, why was the car 2 blocks away? They took it off the dolly just outside the door right here by the shop," I said, as I put away the prybar.

She stopped dead in her tracks, turns around and gives me that "you're not going to believe this" look.

"Because the tires were only flat on one side so he was pushing it down the road to make sure the "flat" part was evened out with the rest of the tire. (Looking up to the ceiling now and gesturing with her hands) I'm not kidding…"

OK, that's it! I can officially say I've heard it all now. … Now, is it fair to say some people shouldn't be allowed on the open road with a license? I think so. This guy sounds like a good candidate. Really? The tires are flat on one side and pushing the thing 2 blocks rounds them back out… sure, sure… I can see how "that's" taking care of the problem. Unbelievable. Where do they get their information for stuff like this? Or, did I skip that class… I'm sure it was a hands-on demonstration too. I can picture the classroom now, cars lined up with low tires and a yellow finish line far down the street. To pass the class you have to push a car for at least a block. (Glad I missed this one)

The whole time good old dad was doing the pushing, the 400 lb. son wasn't helping a bit, he looked more like he was ready to get in line at the next "All you can eat buffet". This huge dude never moved a slipper towards the car. If he wasn't lying on the ground he was sitting in the truck waiting on old dad to get done with the chains. Something is really, really, wrong with this picture…he didn't appear to have any medical condition, but I could be wrong about that too.

Now would it be any surprise that the car's problem was actually a simple one. Yes, yes it was… the distributor was faulty; however, it was also the only new part on the car. When I called the old guy about the problem he got pretty huffy about it. Seems that's exactly what the last shop had tried. Not only that, but it was the 3^rd distributor that he had replaced from one of those discount auto supply warehouses. Each time the other shop would install it, they would charge him for it. Now that I was saying the same thing… oh boy, was I in for an earful. My replacement distributor was 3 times as expensive too. So there was no way he was going to buy my story that the same faulty "new" part that the last shop told him was wrong with it could be 3 times as expensive as his cheap part.

I think I know why the car sat for a year at the other shop. They got tired of dealing with this guy, and of course, now I'm no longer as credible as the referral that told him to tow his car to my place.

So, do you think he was going to leave his "nice ride" with me? Of course not, he came and picked it up that afternoon. I guess even after all the efforts of dragging it down the street, renting a dolly, and having it diagnosed as a faulty "almost new" part, it still was worth finding somebody to put in a cheap part at a cheap price.

I know what the other shop was doing; they were letting the owner supply the parts instead of telling the customer to buy good parts and be done with the job. But, sometimes, "Mr. Customer" is more right than any mechanic will ever be.

I guess, I don't have to worry about this one coming back. Besides, I don't like putting cheap worthless parts in unless it's the only way to get it done. But, when the customer has already told me that the parts were bad twice before, and I'm VERY sure of the diagnostics, I tend to doubt that another cheap part is going to do the trick.

Besides, the tires may go flat on one side again… Sorry, old timer, I've reached my limit, and I still wouldn't want to push your car up and down the street to round out the tires for ya… get your 400 lb. son to do that next time, he could use the exercise.

As always these stories are here before final editing and publishing. Some make it, some don't. Your input and comments help decide which ones actually make it to the editors desk. I appreciate all your comments. visit my website www.gonzostoolbox.com

Gonzo

Watching television these days you'll find a lot of so called reality shows on the air waves. I sat thru one of these hoarding shows, and quite frankly I wasn't surprised at all. I've seen this same thing in cars, trucks, and vans. Junk, trash, and just about anything you could think of piled up inside the car and/or in the bed of the truck. The one thing that seems to be common with every one of them is the mess. It's not so much the piles of crap that they keep in their vehicles, but how they keep their stuff. It's always a disorganized mess with no rhyme or reason of organization.

I can't work like that myself. Now, I'm not all that neat with my tool box. But it's at least it's an organized chaos. Sockets and extensions of the same ratchet size in one area, cutting tools in another, screw drivers and pliers all have their own place. I actually use several tool boxes to store my 30+ years of variety of tools. Even with the tool boxes, I still have to have other tools that come in their own protective plastic molded boxes on shelves neatly labeled as to what is in each box, in order to retrieve them when needed. Older, out of date tools seem to always end up in lower and lower drawers. I can't even tell you where my dwell meters are these days… haven't seen them in years.

Now I see the same trend in old scanners. The pile is getting larger and larger. I still have an old MatCo 4000E and a few other ones on one of the lower shelves. I don't think I've turned them on in years, but all the cards and cords are there. It's almost funny, (in a weird way) that each time you update a scanner, the new scanner generally will do all the older systems. So instead of pulling out your old scanner I'll reach for the new one every time. So what happens to that old scanner? It will end up with that old dwell meter somewhere out of sight and forgotten.

These days I find myself "hoarding" some of these new tools, and wait for a chance to use some of them. Now, I've got a collection of so called "new" tools that I haven't found much use for yet. Special headlamp assembly removal tools, belt tools, shocks wrenches, front end disassembly tools, suspension tools, and so much more. Most of which I may only see use for only once in a great while. For example, I've done several of the water pumps on the "North Star" engines, and with the right tool it's an easy job. I wouldn't even begin to think of doing it without it. The tool wasn't cheap, but I'm sure at some point in time it too will end up in the bottom of the box.

I don't think of myself as a tool hoarder, or a collector… I just want the right tool for the right job. As a tech the expense of these tools can be costly, keeping them clean and well kept helps me maintain them for a long time. Without the right tool, the job isn't as easy as it could be. So anytime I can get the correct tool I will.

Then there are those homemade tools that I have a tougher time sending to the deep dark pockets of the lower drawers. At the time I needed that certain cut down tool or a socket I ground an edge off of… they made sense. Looking in the drawer at some of these old handmade marvels I have to wonder… why I did do "that" to this tool? Obviously, I've forgotten what it was for… so it now becomes the next tool that will get "re-made" into the next handmade tool. These tools I'll "hoard" for a long time, just can't part with them so easily.

I've also seen guys who have huge boxes of tools that have every single socket and screw driver so perfectly placed in their tool boxes that they resemble museum pieces. I've even seen a guy who had a huge, and I mean huge, selection of hammers… of various sizes and lengths. All these hammers were lined up on overhead racks equally spaced apart, and put into a pattern from small to large, and by handle length. A thing of beauty to a tool guy like myself. Not that practical in my point of view though. I mean, really, how many hammers do ya need? A hoarder? No not really. I think it actually falls under the category of collector. Collectors take pride in what they have, and are proud to display them in an orderly fashion.

One thing that goes along with those hoarders' cars and trucks is the stench… OMG… always, always, always it smells like something died in there. I'll bet doctors could tell some horror stories dealing with people and their hygiene, and I'm sure I'm not the only tech who has dealt with the smelly car from hell. Nasty, is the only way to say it… putrid, awful, and disgusting. YUK!

Well, then again, it's work… not pleasant work, but it is work. I think the worst one that I can remember getting into was a Chevy van with a heater core leak. The van was stacked level with the windows front to back with the most horrendous conglomeration of junk I've ever had to deal with. There was only enough room for the driver and barely any room to move the gear shift lever. Totally disgusting, and even more to the point that smell, that awful unforgettable smell! Papers, fast food bags, clothes, shoes, and anything else you can think of.

I always try to put things back in order that I take things out of a glove box or trunk, but, there was no way to "re-stack" everything back in on this "hoarder-mobile"… it was an intertwined hap-hazard pile of putrid junk. All I could do was grab handfuls of this stuff and throw it on the shop floor. In fact, I gave the lady the estimate based on book time… then I crossed out the book time, and told her that the book time doesn't apply due to the conditions I'm working in. She still said go for it… so I did. With an aspirator, plastic gloves and a long sleeve jacket that I planned to throw out as soon as I was done. I "dove" right into my work on this reeking pile of refuse, and finished it as quickly as I could. You know, I really should have done this job outside, because the stench lingered in the shop for weeks.

These people have a serious mental problem, but most of them don't see it as a problem. I'm no doctor, so I probably shouldn't make diagnostic claims on things I know nothing about, I'm just a mechanic. I'll try to deal with junk and the smell, get the job done, and move on to the next one. (Hopefully a more pleasant one).

When you finish with one of these jobs, don't forget to wipe your tools down before you neatly place them back into your tool box. Messy tools and a messy shop aren't very presentable, but for some customers it's not a concern of theirs how their vehicle looks or smells, they just want the car fixed.

Even though I'll fix the car, the smell and the sight of these trash cans on 4 wheels sure does get to me. Yuk!

After all these years of servicing cars... nothing surprises me anymore. I hope some of my stories put a smile on your face and starts conversations between techs.

Your comments are what helps me decide which ones to send onto the editors and publishers.

Keep those comments coming... Gonzo

One day he came into the shop with his early 80's Porsche with a weird starting problem. It would start great if you didn't shut it down for very long. Leave it off for more than an hour or so, and it would crank and crank before it came back to life again. Bob, being his usual cheerful self, waited in the lobby; while I took a look at his car.

That particular day my two daughters (Katie and Mandy) were on summer break from school, and were hanging out in the lobby while I worked in the shop. My wife was running the office at the time too; it was a little family day for all of us. Old Dad tooling away in the shop, the girls cutting out paper dolls, and mom keeping track of us all.

Bob was quite happy to help the girls cut out the paper dolls and draw faces on them. He seemed to enjoy the girls and there's no doubt the girls enjoyed the attention. I, on the other hand, was trying to figure out what was going on with his old Porsche. I spent a lot of time on this one, as it wasn't making any sense that it would run so well, but be so hard to restart. I checked several things that I thought might cause the problem, but still didn't have any answers. That is until I checked the fuel pressure.

On this older Porsche there wasn't a Schrader valve to screw a pressure gauge into. I had to remove a fuel line and install a pressure gauge "in-line" to read the actual fuel pressure. While it was running the fuel pressure was spot on. When I shut the car off the fuel pressure would slowly come down to its "rest" pressure and hold. I left the gauge installed, and went to work on other jobs in the shop, only coming back to it every now and then to see if it was dropping or not.

About 30 minutes later the fuel pressure was down to near zero. I reached in and turned the key. Strangely enough, the fuel pressure didn't bounce back up as quick as I thought it should, but after a couple of cranks the pressure was back up to normal and the car started fine. I knew to test this out further I was going to need a lot more time, so I thought I would run up front and see how much time Bob had today.

To my surprise, there was Bob sitting in one of the lobby chairs, paper dolls pinned to him from head to toe, and the two girls were not only drawing faces on the dolls, but also all over Bob. Up and down both arms were all kinds of scribbled notes. He was having the time of his life… laughing, giggling, with a smile from ear to ear. My wife had leaned over the counter about then and informed me the ink tattoos were a mutual idea between Bob and the girls. Hey, they were having fun, and Bob was content to sit out the rest of the day with the girls, so I was free to test all I wanted.

After several hours of trying different things to the car: clamping off the return line, letting it sit longer, checking the injectors for leaks, etc… I finally nailed down the cause of the problem. Another shop had just changed the fuel pump, and the new one didn't have the check valve on the end of it. I rushed into the office to tell Bob. He was still smiling, but not nearly as covered with paper dolls. Now they were drawing and telling stories. I had to interrupt their fun to let Bob know what I found. Being the ever-so-courteous individual he was, he didn't want to tell me he had the car out of town last week when it broke down, and had to have the new fuel pump put in.

I told him I'd take care of the problem, and that he could get back to his play time with the girls. After I exchanged the fuel pump with one that had the check valve it started every time, any time. Now the next thing to do was to explain it to Bob.

"What does a check valve do?" he asked.

I tried to explain it, but Bob wasn't grasping the concept. That's when one of my girls mentioned to him, "It's like a one way gate, Bob." (Smart kid) With that I had a way to explain it to Bob.

"Bob, let's say you have two corrals, one full of cows and one without any cows. You want to move the cows to the other corral so you have to open the gate. When you move the cows to the empty corral they can push the gate back open by themselves. But if you put them in the opposite corral, they can only push against the gate because it won't open from that direction. It's the same thing your car does with gasoline in the fuel line," I told my paper doll covered friend.

"Hey, I understand that… it makes sense now… so it's all because of cows that I'm able to start my car. Wow, I never knew."

You know, he's such a nice guy, and the girls loved having him in the shop. I didn't have the heart to tell him anything different. Cows, paper dolls, and his arms covered in little girl scribbles, there's already enough things going on that anything more technical wasn't going to help a bit, just leave it be. So if cows and a corral gate was a good enough explanation for him, it's good enough for me.

To this day if I pass a farm and I see a herd of cattle lined up at a corral gate I think of him. Standing there in the lobby, tattooed in ink scribbles and paper dolls pinned all over him. I know Katie and Mandy will never forget him either. He's one of a kind.

Quite a moo-oving guy.

I hope you enjoy my stories, if you do, leave a comment. It's the only way I know whether or not it's good enough to send onto my editors for publication. If you didn't know it, ASO members see all my latest stories before anyone else. Your input helps me put the final touches on the stories before they go out to the public.

So keep those comments coming. Don't forget to visit my website www.gonzostoolbox.com ENJOY! !

I guess, for some people there is still this "old school" way of doing things. Reminds me of the old TV shows from the 50's and 60's, where the actor playing the mechanic is always some half-wit, dressed in a one piece jump suit with a rag hanging out of his back pocket, leaning over a hood with his always present white socks showing. No doubt he would be wearing some grungy old ball cap covered with theatrical fake grease. The actor playing the part of the customer would walk right up to him, announce he was there, and the old boy would come out from under the hood wiping the fake grease off of the same two wrenches he was using from last week's episode. (I guess they only have two wrenches in the studio.) The customer was always portrayed as an intelligent consumer in the story line, and the mechanic…. well, he wasn't much for manners or intelligent conversation.

These days it's just not that way in every part of the country. Most shops I know are rather protective of the equipment and tools in the service bays. Then of course, there is the liability concerns that comes into play with the shop insurance provider. I don't mind customers in the shop if I know them, or if they are escorted by an employee. But, to walk right through the shop and then to the front office makes me a little suspicious … always has.

Then there are the customers who want to watch what's going on. That's fine… as long as they watch from a distance. I don't need help putting lug nuts on, so don't help me by picking them up and handing them to me. (I had a 70 year old lady who insisted on being next to her car. I used to put a chair right next to it for her. She was like a hawk watching every move I made.)

If I'm tearing out a complete dash, and they would like to see what they are paying for, I'll be glad to show them what their car looks like in a thousand pieces. That usually gets that chin dropping look going. Gotta love the usual next question… you know the question, "Are you going to be able to put that back together?" Too funny… I start laughing before they even finish asking.

But this guy had a chip on his shoulder. Apparently he already made up his mind that all mechanics are cheats, crooks, and dumber than a toolbox. He proved it as soon as he came through the back door and approached the service counter.

"Can I help you?" I asked. (Already wondering what this guy was thinking coming through the back door)

Mad, loud, and obnoxious he said, "Yea, I need somebody to look at my truck."

"What is it I need to see?"

"My gauges are acting up."

"I can look at them, (I grabbed a blank invoice) what kind of truck is it?" I asked.

"What's with the ticket? I'm not bringing it in the shop for you to work on it. I just want you to look at it," my astonished back door user said with an angry tone to his voice.

"Well, sir, we charge a diagnostic fee to cover our time to diagnose the problem."

"I ain't paying any kind of diagnostic fee. I'll only pay for something you can fix, and ya ain't done nothin' yet. All I want you to do is look at my truck. Then I'll let you know if I want you to look at it," he said with an angry snarl.

"Let me get this straight, you want me to look at it, so you can decide if you want me to look at it?" I asked, stunned at to what he just asked.

Now, I'm not sure which "look" he's referring to. Is it the "look" to see if I'm smart enough to figure out where the gauges are, or whether or not I can tell which ones are not working correctly? Gee, I guess if I start looking at the tail gate or the muffler then I might look pretty stupid. Maybe that's why I need to look at it to see if he wants me to look at it.

"So, you're not going to even tell me what's wrong with it, unless I pay you to look at it?" again asking with that same snarl in his voice.

"Mr. . . I make a living looking at trucks, and your gauges are no different. I can give you an estimated repair price if you'll tell me the symptoms. But I'm not going out there and tell you what's wrong then have you run off somewhere and fix it yourself, or find somebody cheaper," I said, now that it was my turn to answer with a snarl.

You know ya gotta love it…..when one of these back door garage seekers gives you the look and walks back out the same door they came in. You know the look, the one that says… "Screw you. You don't want to tell me what's wrong… I'll find somebody else that will" look. Never accomplishing anything, and even more aggravated than when they came in.

I'm sure this guy probably thought it would be no big deal to have me walk out there and stare at his gauges. You know, like a couple of guys on the weekend, cold beer in one hand, standing next to the truck with the two of us snarling sailor talk back and forth. Right, like that's going to happen. I suppose this guy thought I would walk out there while wiping off my two wrenches. I'll bet he even was expecting me to be wearing a one piece jump suit, white socks and greasy, grungy ball cap. Not a chance buddy!

Sorry Charlie, I've looked at all the cars in the parking lot I'm going to look at… it just ain't happening; I've been at this crazy business a long time, and I've seen this same type of kook before. I might be a little stuck on not going into the parking lot, but I'm even more stuck on wanting to get paid for what I do. My old saying: … "I'd rather do nothing and get nothing, than do "something" and get nothing"…

Sometimes in the owner's mind they feel they are the only one in the whole wide world who has "ever" had this kind of problem. That's where the mistake begins. Then they start to think no matter where they take this weird unusual problem the mechanic is going to screw it up anyway. It's just another misconception on their part, which is easy to solve once you explain it to them. That is, if they want to listen.

But, I still don't have to go out to the parking lot to explain it. Too many times I walk out to a car, "look" at the problem and end up fixing it on the spot. It's a natural thing for me do… I see something broke; I'm compelled to fix it. My bad, I know. But what's worse, if it's a simple problem, and I do take care of it…right there in the parking lot… I get a "thanks man" and off they go… never to be seen from again, or… until the next time they have a need of a parking lot repair.

But, when the next problem crops up, and the problem isn't a quick twist of a screw driver, and you tell them you have to charge them for your time… they get really defensive. Usually spouting off something like, "You didn't charge me last time!"

As I've said many-many times. … "The parking lot is a lot closer to leaving than paying…." And that's for sure.

I may be a small shop but, I am a professional, not your second cousin's first wife's uncle on your mom's side of the family, who shows up at your house, drinks all your beer, and spends the day sprawled out under the dash of the family truckster.

The comparison of today's automotive field to the medical field is much closer than it's ever been as far as the complexity of the problems we deal with as technicians. But we are not doctors… damned close though. I'd like to see you try to go into your dentist's office, and ask him to "look" at your problem, so you can decide whether or not you want him to "look" at your problem… See how far that gets ya.

Unless he's an old family friend, I'd say… you're going to get a bill.

Of course, there's one thing you won't see at the dentist office, a back door leading to the front office thru the exam room areas.

So do me a favor, let's all do our best to be professional, use the front door and try not to prejudge a service tech by what they're wearing. This job can be irritating enough back in the shop, and it doesn't help one bit… … … to add another pain in the rear.

I'm So Glad to have a place like ASO... It's not only a great site to find information about today's industry but a great place for guys like me to put their thoughts down. I write for several trade magazines and I'm always looking for responces on my stories. The more you tell me what you think of the articles, the more I know which direction to go for final editing. Not all stories make it, but most do.

I want to thanky you for taking the time to read these articles, please take a moment and leave me a comment.... It really does help.

Visit my website, buy a copy of my book, (I can autograph it if you buy it from my website) www.gonzostoolbox.com

Should be an easy in-and-out job, or at least that's what I thought it was going to be. The truck was from one of the many Spanish-speaking shops that use my services. I don't speak any Spanish (wish I did), but the guys at this shop know I'll be patient with the language barrier, and somehow communicate what needs to be done.

It all started with a rebuilt transmission they installed. After it was installed they had a service bulletin to do; which required moving a couple of wires on the PCM. The directions they had were very good. In fact, it had detailed photos along with the instructions to make the update. They tried to do it, only to find out one of the wires didn't match the drawings. (There was a year difference between the directions and the actual year of the truck.) Instead of going any farther, they sent me the truck to see if I could help them out with the update. When the PCM was plugged back in with all the wires back in their connectors, the truck wouldn't start. Now, instead of driving it over, they had to tow it.

The truck showed up the next day, not a pretty sight to say the least. It had over 250,000 miles on the odometer, with bent and twisted body parts. The driver's door was sagging to the point it would catch the fender every time you opened the door. Not exactly a fine ride, but as a work truck … it'll do. The shop owner explained the problem to me, and told me he needed it back as soon as possible.

You know, it's not that "Murphy" hangs around my shop, but he sure wanted me to earn my keep on this one. Some day I'm going to have a little "communication" with Murphy himself. He really knows how to make things tougher than they need to be.

I hooked up the scanner to see what was going on. Although it had perfect communication with the ABS, the Airbag system, and class 2, it could not connect to the PCM. No communications flashed on the scanner's screen. My first thoughts were the wires were not back in correctly, or one had pulled out when they re-connected the computer. That's where the fun began. Every single wire was not only in the correct spots, but all the powers and grounds were there. I've seen these problems before, and it almost always turns out to be a corrupted, or lost, data line. Now of course, there are a few other possibilities, but the data line is usually where I go first.

My method of checking for this kind of problem is to cut the data line between the computer and the ALDL 16 pin connector. Then run a bypass line from the PCM directly to the ALDL, and check the data line again. This time that didn't work… still nothing. I re-checked the powers and grounds. They were as good as the first time I had checked them. Now things are getting a little serious. Time to check it with the scope. After verifying the voltages and ground signals (again) with the scope; I looked for a scope reading for the actual data line. Oh, oh… flat line, it's a bad PCM. I haven't a clue what they could have done to the computer from just changing a wire or two, but it sure was dead. I called the shop owner to let him know.

"I'll bring another one tomorrow morning," he tells me.

The next day a "salvage" computer was dropped off at my shop. Without hesitation I popped it into the truck, turned the key on, and ran it through security setup. (Thinking I'm done, and there wasn't any reason to check any farther.) But, it still wouldn't start. Ok, what's the deal? Did I miss something? Now I'll have to re-check everything I just did yesterday, again. I checked the powers and grounds, and all the other wires and connections this time. But there still wasn't any communication with the computer. Could it be another bad PCM? It sure seemed that way. I'll have to call the shop owner and let him know what I found out. This time he decided to go to one of the discount parts stores, (where he gets his parts from), and pick one up.

Here I go again… another computer and another failed attempt at communication. Not that I wanted to spend the rest of the day doing all the tests over, but there had to be something I was missing or a really good reason for this catastrophe. Before calling the shop owner again I wanted to make absolutely sure there were no mistakes in my results. I just so happened to have an extra set of connectors off an old harness from a car I salvaged out.

I made up a set of bench test plugs. The connectors are clearly marked with the color and the numbered connection pins. To get the PCM to talk on the bench, all I needed were the positive and ground leads and of course that very important data line installed into the test plugs. This way, I could bench test the PCM without interfering with the wiring in the truck. A simple scope reading could tell me what was going on. No communication should be a thing of the past now.

I wasn't a bit surprised… the weirdness continued. This PCM doesn't even turn on, completely dead. I re-checked my pin positions several times, I was absolutely sure I had them right. It can only mean one thing… another bad computer.

Would you believe this went on for 3 more times? Yes, yes, it did. Each time he would bring me another computer, I would check it with my little bench plug set up. Each time it did the same thing. I couldn't be sure but there's a pretty good chance he wasn't communicating his needs to the part store. When the part store checks the flash program in the PCM they are NOT using the same leads that the actual truck uses. Only one positive lead and the data line are the same. Their pin configuration for reprogramming at the store is almost completely different from the trucks!

Finally on the 6^th try I got what I wanted… COMMUNICATION! WHOO HOO! I can't remember a job that I went over the same test procedures so many times just to get the results I expected. There's that old saying; "Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of crazy." Oh yea, I was totally feeling the "crazy" on this job.

There was a point where I started doubting myself, but I stuck to the test results and double-checked my work each and every time to make sure I had it right. Even though the shop owner was getting concerned that I may not solve his problem; he made the commitment to stick with me. We've done a lot of work for each other over the years, and he was confident that I'd find the problem.

I'm glad he let me stay at it… he put a lot of trust in me to get the job done. Even though we had a language barrier between the two of us, the main language barrier was actually the computer not communicating. I could barely understand what the shop owner was telling me, but I'm sure that PCM couldn't understand either Spanish or English. For me, this one took a lot of composure to get it done. After seeing so many bad computers in a row, (I still think it was the same PCM from the part store) you can imagine how frustrated I was getting.

In every different direction there was a communication problem. From the shop owner, the part store reflashing the PCM and the bench test that I used. I may not speak Spanish, but I can speak a little computer. I guess in some way, I really am bilingual.

Thanks for reading my stories, with all their usual grammar mistakes and writing issues. That's what I have editors for ... LOL Not all stories make it to print, and you help make that decision. Before the stories are sent to my editors, I send them here. (and save them on my website too)

These stories are here for your enjoyment, leave a comment... always love to hear from everyone.

Don't forget to check out my website for even more stories, photos, and information. www.gonzostoolbox.com Have a great day....! !