Ode to Santa and the Economy

There goes Santa, running for his sleigh;

Hes gotta run fast, to get away.

You see, the economy has struck the North Pole as well;

The elves are on strike, and his wife is givin' em' hell.

These days when Santa appears at the local department store;

Its not just for fun or photos, but for gifts he needs to score.

He'll check the store layout and make a quick dash;

Why even Santa max'd out his credit card and is low on cash.

So off he goes, into the night;

To find those gifts, and get out of sight.

Now, hes not going to make a whole lot of stops;

Cause look out Santa here comes the cops.

Santa leaps to his sleigh and flys far into the night;

Carrying all those gifts, on his yearly flight.

Way into the morning, the police search high and low;

Only to find a few tracks left in the snow.

You'll hear all the alarms blaring, late into the night;

But old Saint Nick will be long gone, and clean out of sight.

Santa has to be quick, to have it done by Christmas Eve;

So many gifts, and so many places to be

The presents will be wrapped, and the tags will be off;

Cause old Santa is very careful, not to get caught.

So check your presents, early on Christmas day;

(Keep it hush-hush if they're from Santa, OK...?)

Now, I dont know if Old Saint Nick, stopped at your house or not;

But If he did

.....THOSE GIFTS ARE . . . HOT ! !

12 Days of Christmas at an Automotive Repair Shop

You know the song, so just sing along with me in the holiday spirit.

On the 1st day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

A cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 2nd day Christmas my customers sent to me:

2 Latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 3rd day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

3 Wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 4th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

4 Wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 5th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

5 Piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 6th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

6 Brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 7th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

7 Dash lights flashing, 6 brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 8th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

8 Engines leaking, 7 dash lights flashing, 6 brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 9th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

9 Coils a-sparking, 8 engines leaking, 7 dash lights flashing, 6 brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 10th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

10 Headlights blinking, 9 coils a-sparking, 8 engines leaking, 7 dash lights flashing, 6 brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 11th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

11 Gears a-grinding, 10 headlights blinking, 9 coils a-sparking, 8 engines leaking, 7 dash lights flashing, 6 brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

On the 12th day of Christmas my customers sent to me:

12 Trannys slipping, 11 gears a-grinding, 10 headlights blinking, 9 coils a-sparking, 8 engines leaking, 7 dash lights flashing, 6 brand new sockets, 5 piston rings, 4 wire straps, 3 wrench ends, 2 latex gloves, and a cartridge for my grease gun.

Speaking on behalf of the entire automotive repair industry,

Thank you to all our customers for their patronage. We appreciate it.

Have a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Twas the Night before Christmas

(Mechanic style)

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the service bay

Not an engine was stirring, just old Santa’s sleigh.

All the air hoses were hung, by the compressor with care,

The mechanics had the day off, I’m the only one there.

I was just an apprentice, but wanted to show St. Nick just what I knew.

My boss was all for it, said it was OK if I turned a few screws.

With visions of being a full time mechanic, dancing in my head

I was going to give it my best shot; I’ll fix this old sled.

I gave the key a twist, and listened in dismay,

That little red hot rod needed service, in such a bad way

Then from under the hood there arose such a clatter,

That even St. Nick had to ask, “So, what’s the matter?”

I flew from the driver’s seat and raised the hood in a flash,

Nearly stumbling off my feet, from my quick little dash.

The under hood light, glimmered onto the engine below,

The fan belt had broken, and a spark plug blew out a hole.

It’s something I can handle; I learned this stuff in school,

I’ll have this fixed up in no time; it only takes a few tools,

I started it up and all eight cylinders were firing away

Just a few minor adjustments and he could be on his way

That’s when I noticed, his sled was packed full of all sorts of toys…

He hadn’t finished his deliveries, to all the girls… and boys.

He was dressed all in red, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot

Anxious he was, to finish his trip as soon as he could,

With my wrenches a flyin’, he knew that he would.

It was up to me, to get it fixed this very night,

He still had a long way to go, before it was daylight.

His eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples, how merry

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

I knew it was Christmas Eve, so I couldn’t say no,

He had a broad face and a round little belly

That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

His sled was like new, after the job was all done,

Now that it’s fixed, he could get back to his run.

He reached into his huge bag,

and pulled a box out with a jerk,

Said he knew just how to thank me,

for all of my hard work,

I ripped open the present, and Oh, what a sight!

Snap On wrenches and sockets! Boy was he right!

As he pulled from the parking lot, he held the throttle to the floor,

Just to show off, he passed by the shop, once more,

This guy Santa, he’s a little strange, at any rate,

He had a name for every cylinder, in his little V8.

I could hear him shout, so loud and clear,

Naming off each cylinder, as if they could hear.

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!

I heard the tires screech, as he caught second gear,

Off to deliver those presents, some far, some near

Then, I heard him exclaim, just before he drove out of sight

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Dude, where’s my tools?

It’s another busy day out in the shop. You’re concentrating on getting this job done, when all of a sudden the phone rings. You dash off to the nearest phone with the wrench still in your hand. The phone call wasn’t all that important, but you spent enough time on the phone that you’re not quite sure where you left off. So, you head back to your work area to re-acquaint yourself with what you were doing. Let’s see, I was turning that bolt with the wrench…the wrench, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

With the flair of a police pat down you do a quick pocket search, but it doesn’t yield the missing tool. Then you try looking in places you know you’ve left it before. Next, you try bobbing up and down, over and under the car. By now, you’ve broken out the flashlight to follow the beam of light as you peer into places you haven’t even been near. Finally, you walk back to the phone to see if you mistakenly carried it over there. Still nothing. You’re talking to yourself right about now asking, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

In a daze you start walking around the shop, snooping into every crevice you can think of in search of this elusive tool that has somehow grown legs and walked off. Oh, don’t worry, it will show up, just keep looking. It’s here somewhere. Admit it, we’ve all done it. What’s worse is when ya can’t find it even though you haven’t moved an inch. You know you’re looking right at it, but it has somehow camouflaged itself. Time to walk away, come back, and what do ya know… there it is. It happens to the best of us. At least I know I’m not the only one muttering, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

A few weeks ago my son and I were working on a project at home. He wanted to build a trebuchet; to be exact, not your basic trebuchet mind you. Oh no, not my boy, it had to be some fancy, smanshy one. Sure, why not, I’m up for the challenge. We had no plans, no diagrams, just a photo. It’s amazing how much stuff you have to figure out to make each and every different piece fit together, especially without much more than a photo to go by. Quite a challenge, to say the least. But, just like at the repair shop, tools disappear just as easily, and it’s not long before I’m back to my old chant again, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

The pencil was the biggie this time around. Every time we needed to mark something we both would have to go on a pencil safari searching for it. From one work bench to another, and it didn’t matter how many extra pencils we got out, they all seemed to disappear just as easily as the first one did. By now, it wasn’t only me saying it, but my son as well, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

At the shop, when I’m working on a big project, such as an engine repair or a major wiring repair I try to have a cart close by with all the tools strategically placed on it. It works…well, most of the time anyway, but there’s always that exception when you have two or three sockets or a test light in use, and you put it down somewhere and somehow you can’t find them anymore. 99 % of the time you’ll recover your tools with no problem, but there’s always one that gets away. I guess that’s why the tool truck stops by once a week, you know, just to see what ya lost this time. Lose a tool, and it’s another trip to the truck to restock and hopefully avoid, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

When I finish a project I take inventory of my hand tools as I wipe them down and put them away. If something comes up missing I don’t waste any time before I go on a mission to find out what happened to it. Even if that means going out to the parking lot and checking the car I just finished. (Yea, tell me ya never done that before.) Tools are expensive, and some are irreplaceable. So, don’t be alarmed if you see me snooping around under work benches or behind the brake lathe. Ask me what I’m doing and I’ll bet you’re going to hear me say, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

Whether it’s your pocket screwdriver that just doesn’t seem to stay put, especially when you need it in a tight spot and you can’t move. You start doing the phantom pocket search several times while trying to concentrate on what you’re doing, only to give up and go find the blasted thing. Or, when you’re walking back through the office trying to find the missing pocket screwdriver and find that wrench you were using just before the phone rang, lying right there on the counter, next to the customer’s invoice. They all show up sooner or later, usually after you’ve caught yourself mumbling to yourself, “Dude, where’s my tools?”

Now, I haven’t quite got to the point that I act like my grandfather. He would roam around the house ranting and raving about not being able to find his glasses when the entire time they are stuck on top of his head. I’ve got a few more years to go before that happens… hopefully. In the meantime it will be just another day, like any other day, and yes I’ll misplace a few things now and then, and you’ll hear me say the same old thing, over and over again, “Dude, where’s my tools!”

Old Sarge

I met this great man through his son, who happened to be the driver of that Chevy van from the furniture store that was my very first customer. Sarge isn’t his real name, but that’s what I called him. He was a retired Marine Corps cook. I met him one day when he came in with a sick Cadillac.

The old Cadillac hardly had any power at all; just as slow and lazy as a snail. I was only in business for a few months, and didn’t know anybody. I didn’t have any work to speak of, so even though it wasn’t an electrical problem (as he originally thought), I jumped right in and found the problem. It was a clogged catalytic converter. Unbelievably, it wasn’t even welded in place. I could take off the clamps,

and remove it without much hassle.

Back then I didn’t have a lift to put the car in the air, so I had to do the whole job on the ground. Well, old Sarge just sat there and watched me do the whole thing. I think he was a little suspicious of this skinny little white kid who was hacking away at his car, but he patiently waited, being the good man he was. We got to talking about things, and it wasn’t long before he found out that I was also in Marine Corps. Now we had some common ground. We were buds for life, always cutting up with each other.

One hot August afternoon Sarge brought in one of his other cars to get some work done. I had the back door to the shop open, and Sarge steps outside for a little fresh air. I thought I could hear the guy crying or mumbling something, couldn’t tell which it was. I stuck my head around the corner, “Sarge, ah …. you ok, buddy?” I asked.

He proceeded to tell me how the house he grew up in was close by, before it became a shopping center. He talked about his dad and family, and how he hunted rabbits right where we were standing. It was during the Depression. Hard times, and things were scarce in those days. How his dad hid a pig in a pit, not too far from here. Where they kept the corn mash for making moon shine. I sat and listened to this hardened Marine tell me his life’s story that day, from his first car to how he ended up in the Corps. I didn’t answer the phone, or go up front to see if anyone came in. I just sat out there in that August heat, drenched in sweat, listening to this fella tell me his life story.

I’ll never forget that afternoon. I’ll also never forget how every time he came to my shop over the next 25 years he would sneak up on me, and yell in a drill instructor voice, “TEN HUT!” I would snap to attention just like a good Marine should. Sometimes, just to get a rise out of Sarge I would purposely hit my head on the hood of the car I was working on. He got a kick out of it every time.

Sarge passed away a couple years back. I still think about him now and then. I hope he’s up there hunting rabbits, or something. Maybe he’s guarding the gates like every Marine hopes to be doing when their time comes. Or, he could be just waiting there to try and surprise me with one more “TEN HUT” when I show up.

Sarge, I miss having you around the shop.

Strange Request

Not to say some people have a hard time dealing with reality, but there are a few, a small portion that is, whose elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor. For those select few, I often wondered what would happen if they would stop and think through what they’re asking, before they asked these strange requests.

As an automotive professional, I have to maintain a certain level of self-control while answering their questions. Even though what they’re asking is beyond the scope of rational intelligence. I still have to keep both oars in the water, regardless if they are a few crayons short of a full box.

Here are a few examples of the things I’ve been asked over the years that have left me standing there without a clue as to what just happened. I still don’t have any explanation as to why or how to answer them.

The Harness Caper

“Hello, may I help you?” I asked the voice on the phone.

“Yes, how much would you charge to rewire my car?” the caller asked, “It’s got some electrical problems and I can’t find it, or do think you can repair it?”

Now there’s a bit of unexpected news. Rewire or repair? How in the world am I going to estimate that? I had no intention of giving this guy some sort of dollar amount on something that vague. So I went with the basic diagnostic fee as a starting point, and how a total rewire was probably not necessary. The caller eventually settled on the repair rather than the rewire. Then, he hit me with the next bomb shell of unexpected news.

“OK, I’ll bring the harness in so you can diagnose it. I already have it out of the car.”

Now, I’ve taken a lot of harnesses out of cars in the past, and I don’t remember any of them that came out all that easily. I’m picturing this guy’s car in a million pieces scattered in his driveway, or worse yet, a harness that is chopped up into little sections so he could remove it without tearing the rest of the car apart. Either way, it’s starting to sound a lot like a minor electrical issue that is now a complete disaster.

You took it out of the car already?” I asked shockingly, “I can’t diagnose an electrical problem in your car with it removed.”

“Obviously, you don’t know what you’re doing then. I’m taking my car somewhere else,” he bantered back.

“The car is what I need, not just the harness,” I said, getting a little peeved at his comments by now.

“I can’t bring the car, it won’t run. What kind of idiot are you?”

(Now I’m really hacked!) “Taking the harness out of the car before having it diagnosed is like tearing down a house just to check the light bulbs,” I said, already committed to the fact that this guy isn’t coming in.

“Just never mind then,” he said, “I’ll fix it myself.”

(And a fine job you’ll do too!)

Blinker Fluid

“I noticed a strange fluid filling up my tail light lens,” the caller says, “I’ve done some research on the internet and I have found out it’s the blinker fluid leaking. Can you put it back?”

“Ah, no,” I said, trying to hold back the snickering, “There’s no such thing as blinker fluid. What you’re seeing is water in the lens.”

“No, you’re wrong, sir!” the caller sternly said, “I found a bottle of blinker fluid for sale on ebay. Obviously, you’re not a very good mechanic, or you’re just trying to rip me off! I’ll take my car somewhere else!” “CLICK”

(I wonder if that’s the good blinker fluid or the cheap stuff?)

Cruise Control Dilemma

After repairing a cruise control for a customer the day before, she called me up the next day and starting complaining. “I tried the cruise control and it doesn’t work!”

I know I checked it out before giving it back to the customer, which made me rather curious as to how it could have gone out in such a short time. After talking to the customer for quite some time, it was very apparent that she didn’t know how to use the cruise control, or was misinformed as to how it operated.

“As the light turns green,” she began to tell me, “I hit the “ON” button but the car doesn’t go as fast as I want to go. Even when I take my foot off of the gas and hit the “RESUME” button, it won’t go either.”

“Ma’am, you have to get the car up to the desired speed and then hit the “SET” button,” I told her.

“Now why would I need to do that? I’m not sitting! (Setting, sitting… apples oranges…) It should know how fast I want to go! The speed limit sign is right there!”

(Yep, it’s official; this one ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed.)

Telepathic Diagnostics

“Hello sir, I’d like to get a part for my car,” the caller asked.

“What kind of car is it and what kind of part do you need?” I cheerfully asked.

“I don’t know what part, you’re the expert, you should already know.”

“Well, let’s start with what kind of car it is.”

“I don’t know that either, you should know.”

I’m a bit frustrated at this point, so I thought I’d break things down a bit further. “OK, what color is it?”

“Sir, if I have to tell you what color my car is or what part is broken then you must not be a very good mechanic... good day!” “CLICK”

(Obviously, our cosmic streams are not communicating.)

It’s Free

Another shop referred a customer over to me for some work they didn’t do at their shop. The customer walks up to the counter, explains things in detail and lays their keys on the counter.

“Not a problem, I’ll get it diagnosed and give you an estimate once I have figured out the exact problem,” I told him.

“Oh no, no, no, no... You don’t understand. They told me it wasn’t going to cost me anything,” the now upset customer told me.

“I’m sure “they" didn’t tell you the repair is going to be free here sir. I don’t work for free, in the same way, I’m sure you don’t work for free either. I get paid to diagnose and repair cars just like the shop you came from,” I said.

He grabbed the keys off the counter and stormed out the door saying, “They said it was free, and that’s what it should be. I guess you don’t want my business then!”

Ah, you’re right. Especially at the price you’re suggesting.

(Definitely, this guy is one taco shy a combo platter.)

How some of these folks make it through the day without falling off the edge of the planet is beyond me. It still leaves me shaking my head in disbelief. You’d think I’ve heard every kind of strange request after the time I’ve spent behind the service counter…nope, I seriously doubt it.

There’s more, there’s always more.

It’s Alive! It’s Alive!

Dr. Frankenstein waited for just the right thunderstorm to attach the clamps to his creation. As Igor threw each dead man switch into action a shower of sparks flew from the control panel. You could see the high voltage coursing through the Frankenstein creature as the lightning changed the shadowy glow of the laboratory. His pieced together monster began to thrive and move about. Then, with its arms stretched out straight, and its large hands dangling, it rose from the table and walked across the room. Dr. Frankenstein shouted out, “It’s Alive! It’s Alive!”

For a mechanic, bringing a car back to life may not be as spine tingling or as thrilling as an edge of your seat horror flick, but there are a few times when a few sparks might fly and some smoke might come rolling out from under the hood. In a way it could be compared to a horror scene sometimes, and it probably will make the hair stand up on the back of the boss’ neck, but it’s not Hollywood material. Although, it can make for a rather entertaining afternoon at the shop.

I guess in some peculiar way a mechanics job is somewhat like being Dr. Frankenstein. Let’s face it, on a daily basis a mechanic brings the dead back to life. We wander through the dead silence of creepy bone yards for body parts and other needed essentials from discarded creatures of the road. If need be, we’ll work late into the night like a mad scientist ripping the parts out of the donor with hammers, saws, and other tools. Then, like a fine surgeon, we’ll carefully stitch the replacement parts into our latest creation. After all the pieces are in place we’ll fill the different cavities with their proper bodily fluids, and then zap some electricity through its veins.

Even after all these years I still act a little like Dr. Frankenstein when the first signs of life emerge from the latest resurrection. Although, I’ve never used a lighting storm to bring a car back from the dead, a few extra jolts from the battery charger doesn’t hurt one bit.

Just like Dr. Frankenstein, a mechanic usually works in his laboratory (service bay) in solitude. Sometimes with a helper or an apprentice whose main tasks are collecting those various parts, throw switches, turning dials, holding body parts in place, and observing (and learning) what’s going on, while peering over the mechanic’s shoulder. All this, while using advanced technical, mechanical, and electrical processes that are only vaguely understood by the general mass of commoners out on the city streets. In the service bay (laboratory), mechanics and their helpers take those seemingly impossible arrangements of various materials and create a beast with unbelievable strength and power, and in some instances, their own version of a Frankenstein monster.

In the movie, those town folks said Dr. Frankenstein had to be crazy for thinking he could put this monster together, and even crazier to think he could bring it back to life. But, I’m sure there are quite a few common city dwellers out there who would think the same thing about a mechanic, if they ever saw all the bits and pieces strung out on the service bay floor that needed to be removed to change out a heater core on some cars.

Old Doc. Frankenstein could have used a few lessons in customer service, though. The last thing you want to see is an angry mob heading to your castle (or shop) because your latest creation has terrorized the town, or left somebody’s daughter stranded on the side of the road on a dark and gloomy night. I don’t think I would have fared any better than Dr. Frankenstein did when the townspeople came a calling with pitch forks, snarly faces, and flaming torches. Then again, I’m no Dr. Frankenstein. I’m not creating a one-time monster out of used parts. I have to bring these demons of the road back to life every day, and unlike the doctor… I’ve got more than just two different models to deal with!

Not to say old Doc Frankenstein didn’t have a few various attempts of improving on his stitched together creation along the way, you know, “Bride of Frankenstein”, “Frankenstein meets the Mummy”, and so on… but, none of them worked out any better than his first try. Ya can’t have that kind of success rate in the automotive trade though. Whether it’s a mummy or a daddy’s car the mechanic’s job is to bring them back to life as quickly and as efficiently as possible. I suppose it’s a good thing Frankenstein was a doctor in a horror flick and not a mechanic. His track record wasn’t all that impressive.

Still in all, to take a piece of machinery that hasn’t been in use or unproductive for years and then bring it back to life is like seeing Frankenstein’s monster rise off of that operating table for me. There’s a certain testosterone appeal in seeing your latest creation go from a pile of miscellaneous parts to a machine that roars to life as you open its throttle. I don’t know of any mechanic who doesn’t get a little bit of that Dr. Frankenstein grin on their face as the fumes and vibrations fill the garage when their latest accomplishment comes to life.

I suppose there’s a touch of ol’ Dr. Frankenstein in everyone. For some of us, we’ve taken that horror movie idea of bringing things back to life (mechanical things that is) as part of our own occupation. Oh sure, there’s a lot of boring, mundane chores in the mechanic world that have to be performed on a daily basis. It’s not at all like in the movies, you know. There are oil changes, radiator flushes, and other boring, run of the mill repairs that need to be done.

But, when the chance comes along to bring a piece of machinery back to its gear grinding, throttle snarling, sparks flying former self, you can bet we’ll be there in the shop. It might even be one of those stormy nights just like in the movie. With the flickering glow of the lightning dancing across the garage wall, and the thunder claps echoing in the distance, we’ll hook up the cables, and bring that metal monster back from the dead. And, I’m sure, we’ll be saying the same thing ol’ Doc. Frankenstein said so well in those movies, “It’s Alive! It’s Alive!”

Last Stop Before the Asylum

On a foggy afternoon, with no breeze in sight, and a slight chill in the air, an old man came to the repair shop. He didn’t come through the front door like most everyone would, no he pulled his car right into the center bay of the shop.

But, it gets stranger…. He didn’t get out of the car. He didn’t even roll down the window. He just sat there ... with both hands on the wheel, the engine still running, and staring out the windshield like a zombie from an old horror flick. He appeared to be calmly sitting at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. There was no expression on his face, he never blinked; he just sat there….with this cold stone stare. I didn’t want to walk in front of the car in fear he may take me as the green light, so I walked around the back of the car keeping one eye on this strange guy, and then crept up to the drivers’ window. I tapped on the glass….no response from inside. I tried the door handle… it opened.

“Afternoon sir,” I said in a cheerful manner, trying to keep my curiosity at bay, “Is there anything I can do for you today?”

The old man, ever so slowly, turned his head towards me while maintaining a straight forward posture and both hands still on the wheel, never really looking up, he just turned his head and answered. “Why yes, young man, my turn signals are acting up, and my window won’t roll down.” (The man’s voice reminded me of an old horror movie vampire.)

Very creepy to say the least. He even looked like a 50’s horror movie villain with sunken cheeks, large bushy eye brows, slow methodical speech, and that expressionless cold stare. (Where’s his cape, ....does he keep the bats in the trunk,.... the coffin, where’s the coffin?)

“No problem, sir,” I answered, still holding my fear in check, “Just head up front and they can write you an invoice for the repair, and then I can get started.”

“I’d rather stay here, (slowly turning his head towards me again, lifting his eyebrows, and raising his eyes up towards me so his glare was straight into my eyes) right here in the drivers’ seat,” he said in that creepy horror flick manner.

(Insert your choice of spooky movie music here)

Ok, where’s the holy water?…..where’s my garlic?….who’s got the silver bullets?…….where’s the wooden stakes? …….a little help here from the guys in the shop …..ahh guys…guys?....where is everyone???

Why is it when you look around the shop for help…..everybody disappears? Oh they’ll show up, oh sure they will, you know they will…after they let me be the first victim……not funny guys! ! !

I could ask this creepy guy again to step out of the car, or I could tell him about our policy on customers in the shop area. At this point, I probably look like one of those B movie extras who is too scared to say their lines. (If I had any.) I figured I better tell him he can’t stay in the car while I was working on it, and see where that leads.

There he sat, still staring straight ahead out the windshield, not blinking, and not even moving a muscle.

“Sir, because of insurance reason you can’t stay in the shop. You will have to wait outside or in the customer waiting area,” I said, trying to be as professional as possible. (They can smell fear, you know.)

Looking straight forward, not at me, he said in that baritone voice, “You do whatever you feel is necessary, son,” then he turned his head and looked right through me, “I’ll be sitting right here,” he said it all in that same eerie voice. He turned back towards the windshield without another word. Then, he just sat there... as still as a tombstone.

Now I’m not scared…I’m getting riled up. I don’t know what graveyard this movie mogul came from, but…this is my shop. I have to take the responsibility here. If he isn’t going to get out of the car I really can’t do too much. Well, maybe I can do some quick diagnostics without having him get out of the car. This way, I won’t feel like such a jerk if I have to get a little serious with this Boris Karloff.

“Sir, why don’t you try those turn signals for me,” I said. He did, and they seemed to be working just fine.

“Could you try rolling down the window for me,” I asked. It worked fine as well. Without a problem that I was aware of, I thought the next best thing was to get him out of the car, and take a look under the dash.

“Sir, can you step out of the car, so I can look under the dash,” I asked.

“No,” was his goolish response.

“Well sir, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” I answered, “Or, you can wait outside the shop while I take a look at the car.”

“No,” came his answer.

“Ok, then, can you do something for me? Could you put it in neutral and leave your foot off of the brake,” I calmly asked.

He did just that, then he put his hands back on the wheel but never changed his dead pan expression. I motioned to one of the guys who just happened to show up from his hiding place to come over and help me. We both grabbed the front of the car and pushed the car outside with the old man still in it. As we pushed him out, you could see the old fella through the windshield, never changing his expression and with that straight ahead stare…..he just sat there.

I walked up to the driver's door, (the window was still down), “Sir, when you are ready to get out of the car I’ll be more than happy to help you. But, until then you will have to remain out here. If there is a medical reason why you can’t get out of the car I’ll make arrangements to assist you into a different chair or something that will be more comfortable for you,” I said with a stern voice.

The old man did that same slow head turn without taking his hands off of the steering wheel again. He stared right into my eyes….raised those bushy eyebrows, and with that same slow deliberate baritone voice he said,

“It’s not medical, it’s not a problem, I like my car the way it is…(and with his eyes extending out as if to make them larger)……with me in it.”

(There’s that spooky music again)

I walked back to shop to finish the other work that was there. On and off throughout the afternoon you could look outside and there was that creepy old guy sitting in his car. Staring right into the shop through the windshield of his car…. never moving, never blinking, still with both hands on the wheel. (There should have been some eerie fog flowing around his car….now that would have been even more creepy)

At closing time, the old guy was still there. As soon as I starting to pull the doors down… he drove off. As the door came to their usual “thump” at the bottom…the shop radio went dead. You could hear a pin drop in the shop; the only noticeable noise was the old man’s car leaving the parking lot. When the car noise was all but gone…the radio started back up. It was like some page out of a horror movie…..Ok, Ok, it had to be just one of those moments when the station was changing a disc or something……but why right then???

So, the next time you are at a traffic light and you see an old guy with big bushy eyebrows…staring through the windshield, and who appears to have been in the latest horror flick at the theater, perhaps on his way to the asylum.

Forget the red light, don’t make eye contact, don’t look back……….drive, drive far away!

Kids Are Great

As a parent or a grandparent, kids are a part of your life. We try raising them to be good productive citizens and teach them right from wrong. They’re our blessing and can be our discomfort at other times. We watch them take their first steps, and lose their first tooth. Every day is a new adventure as they grow and grow.

With the passage of time we all get older and so do our kids. They start out as our little bundles of joy, and then before you know it, they’re a young adult. Now, it’s not formula and diapers or training wheels on their bike, it’s time for the open road, the ultimate statement of freedom, that teenage rite of passage … a car.

A lucky few have a brand new car waiting for them, while others have to work for one on their own. For most average middle class families the solution is a cheap second hand car, or a car handed down from a relative. Sometimes it’s mom or dad’s old car or like what I had to do… I had to buy my own.

It really doesn’t matter how a car shows up in the driveway, just having one is the important part. The ability to drive somewhere is what it’s all about. At this age, instead of asking you to read them a bed time story, all they want to know is if they can drive to the football game or not. Priorities change for the teenager; however for the parent, the paternal instincts kick in a little stronger. Moms tend to worry more about their little babies getting into a wreck while the dads tend to worry whether or not the car will make it home with the transmission still in one piece. Of course those roles reverse all the time, and sometimes that parental instinct can manifest itself in all sorts of manners based on other factors like; how late you are, a speeding ticket, or when you forgot to put the car in park and it rolled down the driveway creating that new entrance into the garage.

For me, as a mechanic… kids are great for business. Those second hand cars are hardly ever checked out beforehand. Even if they were, a lot of times these well used vehicles come with a bit of baggage. Bald tires, bad shocks, check engine light on… etc… All the more reasons why it was so cheap in the first place.

Recently it was a 2000 Contour that was handed down from one relative to the next and ultimately to this lucky teenager. The engine ran but I wouldn’t call it all that great. It had a severe surging idle and a service light glaring at you. The donating relative had the car at a repair shop just before handing it down to the teenager. It’s one of those places a respectable mechanic wouldn’t even recommend having your kids tricycle repaired at.

You could tell what their method of repair was; “read code – change whatever part is mentioned in the description – if that didn’t work – try another part”. Needless to say, there were a lot of new parts bolted on everywhere you looked. The problem, a pretty simple one, if they would have taken the time to diagnose it, and not just throw parts at it, but that’s not how some people operate. All it needed was a new vacuum hose and two of the leads to the O2 sensor were cut by a careless mechanic who left the harness dangling near the alternator pulley. Easy fix.

But, that was just the start of the story on this one. Then it was a starter lead that fell apart, and a battery terminal, connections here and connections there. Most the problems I found were the results of somebody fiddling with it and not securing clips and fasteners. Some of the fasteners even looked as if they were trying to take them apart with a crow bar. It took a bit of work, but it was up and running in no time.

The last trip in was for new front brakes and rotors. Not a fault of shoddy mechanic work, but your average wear and tear. Although with a newbie driver things can get a lot worse than they really needed to be. A lack of experiencing the sound and feel of the metal backing plate grinding away on the rotor could be one reason, or it could be they are concentrating so hard on staying between the lines and stopping at intersections that they don’t notice it at all, I’m not sure which it is. There’s a learning curve there that each teenage driver has to go through. They’ve got to learn about the gauges and warning lights, how the car handles, and how important it is not to let the wiper arm drag across windshield without a blade attached.

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It’s not the first time (or the last) that I’ve had mom or dad at the service counter handing over the credit card to pay for the repair with that parental look (Yea… you know the look.) while saying to their offspring something like, “You know, you’re going to have to work this off!” Yea, yea… sure pops… say what ya want, but the next time the car breaks down you’ll be back here handing that same card over, and giving that same speech again. (Chuckle, chuckle)

Like I said, “Kids are great!” their great for business! Every year there’s a new batch of them, and another batch of second hand cars that need attention. Then they’ll head off to college and I probably won’t see the car again until spring break. Hopefully, as time moves on so will that dilapidated second hand car. These future leaders of the world can take these years and learn a little something along the way about proper car maintenance and remember what that awful sound is when the brakes are metal to metal. Lesson learned.

They’ll get older too, and they’ll start a family of their own. Then the whole cycle starts all over again. More second hand cars or another hand-me-down archaic 4 wheeled dinosaur comes out of grandpas shed for the youngster. Because, you know, those old “tanks” are a whole lot safer. (Pffft … yea right, not like I haven’t heard that one before.) It’ll need some tinkering to get it road ready for the next teen driver in the family, and I’m sure I’ll be called to duty to handle it. Yep, job security at its finest.

Over the years I’ve loved to watch kids come in with their parents when I’m servicing their cars, and then to see that same little one now behind the wheel. I guess I’m part of the family in a way, just not the one paying the bill. Cause ya know, those teenage drivers like their freedom to drive but they haven’t left the nest entirely, at least not financially. They still need a little help in that department. I’m just as guilty, because I do the same for my kids too.

Manual Reading – Manual Labor

Reading and interpreting a service manual is part of a typical day at the repair shop. Probably not the most glamorous part of it, but then what is? Of course, after all the book work you’re still not done. Now you have to take that information and turn it into a working repair and not just words on a page. Obviously, understanding what you’ve read is just as important as doing the actual work, and a great deal of the mechanics time is spent just researching a lot today’s automotive problems, even though labor guides (which are just a guide by the way) don’t include any manual reading or research time as part of the final labor costs. (They should!)

Today’s mechanic is more involved in computer systems and multiplexed data lines than most average consumers realize. The grease and grime is still part of the job, but you can spend just as much time chasing some electrical gremlin or interrupting a scope reading, as well as changing a water pump these days… if not more. It comes down to the amount of research time, as well as the actual “physical” labor time you need to make repairs. It still surprises me how often someone will call and ask, “How much?” to do a certain job on a certain car and expect an exact quote. Regardless of the hundreds and hundreds of possibilities that could detour the repair. Sometimes it’s not a matter of how much but how long… long as in how long it’s going to take to do the book work, reading the manual, and figuring out what the best course of action there is to take. (That’s not in any labor guide either.)

There’s a real difference between reading a manual, understanding what you’ve read, and doing the actual manual labor. Some people can read something and retain that information forever. They can ace any test on any subject as long as they read up on it previously. Then there are people who go to the other extremes. They’re the type of people who have trouble taking a written test, but excel at hands on applications. Today’s modern mechanics needs to be proficient at both. Me, I don’t do as well as I’d like to do in the retaining side of things, never did in school either, but I do have enough of it stuck back in that old noggin’ of mine to know where to find that written info the next time I need it. I know I don’t have one of those photographic memories, and I’m pretty sure there’s no need in trying to stuff any more film up there… ain’t no camera to put it in. I’ve already got too much stuff to try and remember. Now some guys I know, they can remember the firing order on a 327 or the exact oil filter number for a given car. Me…no way, I’ve gotta look it up every time.

I see a variety of manual reading/manual labor related problems when a DIY’r brings their car into the repair shop. You can tell when they’ve glanced over the manual a few times, but couldn’t put the information to good use. Most of the time, you’ll find their manual on the passenger seat with the pages marked. It probably has more to do with watching one of those weekend automotive shows or a You Tube video about how to make a certain repair. It all looks easy on TV. But when it comes time to applying that information to the tips of the fingers… it just ain’t happenin’. Oh, they’ll put a gallant try to it, maybe mess it up worse than it was before they started… but try they will.

One fella brought his truck in after replacing the front calipers at home. As he told me, “It sounded easy to do in the manual. You know, remove a couple of bolts, install the new one, and bleed the brakes. Super easy.” Even though he had read all the description pages and detailed instructions in the manual, somehow it just didn’t work out. And, as usual, his repair manual was on the passenger seat. I made the repairs and even circled the photo in his manual so he could see where he went wrong. (On some cars there is a right and left caliper. If you put them on the wrong side the bleeder screws will be on the bottom instead of the top.)

I figure it’s something like this…anyone can turn a couple of bolts and slap on a few parts on, but there’s a very special ability that can’t be found in the manual. That’s mechanical aptitude. It’s not about reading manuals or being able to turn those bolts. It has a lot more to do with understanding mechanical things. And, these days that includes electronics too. It’s what separates average wrench turners and the true professional in the trade. Oh sure, if you spend enough time at anything you’ll get the hang of it, but sooner or later that lack of one or more of those qualities that separates good mechanics from the average ones will sneak up on ya.

Cars have changed tremendously from those early days of the first electronically driven engines. Today, a repair manual, common sense, and a whole lot of that mechanical ability needs to be applied to most any type of repair. Ok, I know what you’re thinking, “Well, there are some things my cousin Ernie can do and he’s never opened a repair manual.” True, but how far can he go before getting over his head? My guess is when something looks simple and then turns into something that’s not is when cousin Ernie gets in trouble. From past experiences with these “cousin Ernies” … anything is possible.

There are repair manuals out there that are strictly written for the DIY’rs and other manuals meant for the professional. Those DIY manuals are great for basic repairs that aren’t explained in the owner’s manual. Certainly, most DIY’rs would like to accomplish every conceivable problem on their own, but with today’s cars they are far more sophisticated and require a higher degree of understanding and equipment than most DIY’rs are willing to invest in.

I do believe that everyone who owns a car should have some basic working knowledge of how their car operates. Reading a manual is probably one of the best ways to do that, however that’s not to say you need to fix it. Maybe reading the manual will give you a better idea of what to expect at the professional shop. Maybe it would be a good way to gauge whether or not you’ve chosen a true professional repair shop vs. some hack shop.

If, after some in-depth manual reading the problem looks to be too involved for you to tackle the manual labor part of the repair, then it might be time to take your car to the pros. You’ll know who they are, and they’ll know if you’ve read the manual or not… because they have too.

Cars with Brains

Cars have had some form of a brain in them since the early 80’s, and those brains have steadily increased in capabilities since then. Instead of just setting timing issues or injection pulse widths they now can do just about anything you can think of for controlling fuel consumption and emissions. And, you can bet tomorrow’s cars will have even greater computing power than those today. One of the latest (if you haven’t already heard about them) innovations is the self-driving car, or what is sometimes referred to as the “Autonomous vehicle”.

An autonomous vehicle basically means a car that can navigate the road, avoid obstacles, and plan the most strategic path to your destination. Sounds futuristic doesn’t it? It’s not, it’s the real deal. Right now we can give a car the ability to navigate the nation’s highways without human intervention, and it’s obvious they use some form of GPS or internal guidance system to track their position. And, to do the job right the car has to be aware of not only all the traffic conditions, but the weather conditions as well. This allows them to be “self-aware” and have the ability to reason which route is better than another. But, to what level of awareness and reasoning are we willing to give to these electronic marvels?

They actually are more like a rolling robotic device rather than an automobile at this point. And, being "self-aware" something has to govern their reasoning processors to ensure they are not going to put you in harm’s way. This is where the three laws of robotics the noted science fiction writer Isaac Asimov developed years ago might need to apply.

No. # 1 - A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

No. # 2 - A robot must obey orders given it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

No. # 3 - A robot must protect its own existence, as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

Think about it, a self-thinking mode of transportation that can not only decide the route, but also make the decision whether it’s safe to travel at all. Here’s a hypothetical situation to ponder: Let’s say that in the future every car on the road is an autonomous vehicle, and it’s in the middle of winter. The snow is 4 foot deep and drifting even deeper somewhere along the route you’ll be taking, but only slightly snow covered where you live. Basically the roads are impassable at some point, but you don’t know this. You hop in your car and tell it to take you to grandma’s house. The car calculates the different possible routes, but cannot find a safe path to your destination at this time. Should the car even allow you to get out of the garage? What if the car refuses to move? Are the three robotic laws in affect at this point?

What if, for instance, you needed to get to town ASAP, let’s say for a prescription that is a matter of life or death, or your wife is going into labor? You jump in the car and tell it to head to the pharmacy or hospital and to STEP ON IT! Would the car say, “I’m sorry, but I cannot exceed the posted speed limit.” ??

I suppose there would be a feature that would allow you to override the programming that tells it to obey traffic laws to some degree. But, if each and every car is aware of each and every other car, what is going to happen when you go cruising through the next stop sign without slowing down at all? (Assuming the other car’s crash avoidance systems are operating correctly.) Well then… if the other cars know, I’ll bet Mr. Policeman will know too!

Here’s something to think about. Should total control be left up to the computer in the car, or should the driver have the final say regardless of the outcome? Should failure and poor judgment be left up to the human, or should the computer override their requests? Many a movie has predicted the eventual outcome of what could happen if the three basic laws of robotics aren’t adhered to. Could we be heading in this direction? At this point … all is possible.

As a technician, I’ve seen some crazy electronic current flow through unrelated circuitry cause all kinds of weird and unimaginable faults. With that in mind, and then throw in that we are talking about an autonomous vehicle what are the possibilities of a failure like now?

Even with the systems that are out in the market place today, such as “auto-parallel parking” these systems have fail safes that basically turn the feature off if a problem arises within its system. However, it’s hard to imagine every possible glitch has been covered by the engineers. You’d think they have covered it all, but if that’s the case … why do I still see electrical problems that aren’t covered in any of the diagnostic manuals today? And, if all the glitches are already sorted out what do we need recalls for? It’s a scary thought.

There’s no doubt as we go further into the electronic age, even software updates and some recalls might be just an internet download away from being sent directly to your car. (Telematics for example.) Even with the advancements in technology, autonomous cars may still be far from ready. However, taking into account “Moore’s law”, which states computing capabilities will double every 18 months… it might be a lot closer than we think.

It would be something to jump ahead another hundred years and see what we’ve done. Good or bad. I might rather go back into history to the days of the horse and buggy instead. Of course, a horse has a mind of its own too, and if you did manage to get into a dangerous situation with a horse and buggy chances are you’re both going to be in trouble. Now, if you tried the same thing with an autonomous car, the car isn’t likely to buck and run off leaving you stranded there. Then again, the outcome may actually depend on how the three robotic laws are interpreted in those cars with brains.

Mr. Details

Spend enough time at a repair shop, working on cars, answering questions for the customers and sooner or later you’ll find yourself with a Mr. Details at your counter. Your typical “A” type customer (that’s “A” for anal) who arrives with all the facts and figures regarding his problem gathered up from under the nearest rock or website. He’s the over bearing, overly concerned, and downright meticulous type of client that shows up with an entire portfolio of documents about his car. He’s tracked every single repair that has ever been done to his car right down to the exact date and time the dome light bulb burned out and when it was replaced.

Our story begins with Mr. Details bringing his 2003 Chevy Silverado in with inoperable fog lights. Of course, Mr. Details has already taken the liberty of removing the dash panels and trim for me and has so graciously left the light switches dangling by their wires for my convenience. This… as he put it, “Now you won’t have to charge me for tearing it apart.” is supposed to help me in diagnosing them. He has scrutinized every detail he could find about the fog lights and followed the guidance of several known experts on some website, which has led him to a dead end and now… to my front door.

Just to be sure I understood the validity of his story he opened his overly large folder of paperwork and began to read each and every one of them. The date, the problem, and the eventual outcome and cost. (I don’t think the US government keeps the records on nuclear weapons as accurately as this guy keeps on his truck.) Time is an important commodity, and this guy was using up a lot of it. (Keep in mind, once they start, let them finish… you ain’t going to get a word in edge wise anyway, and more than likely you’ll just throw them off of their game plan, which means they’ll have to back up and start all over.)

After making it through the pile of paperwork we ended on the final document in his huge binder. The bill of sale. Yes, the original document that brought Mr. Details and this vehicle together and ultimately to the repair shop with a fog light problem. The one slip of paper the culminated into a vast collection of facts and figures so well maintained in this leather covered binder that historian’s centuries from now will be studying it in great detail.

Now, believe or not, we haven’t even discussed what is really wrong with the car yet. I had to ask, “So, what’s wrong with it now?” (After all these years I still don’t understand why some people just can’t tell you what’s wrong without going into a lengthy detailed history lesson on the car. Seriously, if I wanted all that background I would have asked a question like, “So… where’ve ya been, who’d ya see, whatchya had done to it, and when did y’all get it done?”) At this point, since I was trying to get the problem at hand, a few more pages were getting shuffled around as he did his best to make me feel stupid that I even asked what was wrong with it. I could tell there was a bit of frustration building up, so I thought I’d better rephrase the question. “What kind of symptoms are you having?” (Works better to ask about it this way.)

Turns out it’s not only the fog lights but the day time running lights that are acting up. He went through all of the scenarios and the “tried this and it didn’t fix it” routines and the when and how he did them. Finally, the history lesson was over, I could get the keys and start on this project. On this model the DRL and the fog lights are actually operated by the BCM (Body Control Module). Rather than take his advice and replace the fog light switch with a known good one. (Since ya know… all of us mechanics have spare fog light switches just laying around for every make and model.) I thought I’d try diagnosing it the modern mechanic way, using the bi-directional control for the fog lights and the rest of the lighting system that’s available on the scanner. No need in tearing any dash parts out, removing switches, or wiring around bulbs as Mr. Details had done so far, just plug in the scanner and click a few buttons.

Yea, it was pretty messed up alright. The BCM control was fine but looking back into the gaping holes where the headlight switch and the fog light switch would normally be I could see the familiar outline of an aftermarket alarm system piggy-backed into the BCM wiring. Oh man… here’s the problem. I reached in and disconnected the main box and sure enough everything went back to working perfectly again.

Now it was time to call Mr. Details. Here we go…

“There’s no aftermarket alarm in my car you’re nuts!” was his response.

I could hear him shuffling through his stack of paperwork trying to find anything about an aftermarket alarm. But, there was none. And, since it wasn’t in his paperwork he pretty much made it clear that I must be either crazy or completely incompetent… or both.

There was no getting around it; he’s made up his mind… I’m an idiot. Later that day he stormed into the lobby hurling even more insults and demanded that I give him his truck back.

He was about leave when I thought I should mention something to him.

The truck is a 2003 Silverado that much was clear. But let’s go back to the last page of information he so kindly went into detail with… that bill of sale. (He conveniently brought all his paper work with him of course.) Let’s examine that final piece of paper one more time. Hmmm, the car was purchased in 2004 a year after the car was built. I asked him, “Sir, did you buy this new?”

“No, I bought it from the original owner,” he proudly told me, “So what’s the point of that?”

I brought it to his attention that in all his carefully laid out and detailed lists of all the things “he” has done to the car he never once considered what might have happened prior to him purchasing it.

“How can you be so dang sure there’s an alarm in the car?! In fact, I know every inch of that truck like the back of my hand!” he sternly asked.

“Well sir, the fact is, it’s there, and since you took the dash apart already it wasn’t hard to spot.” I told him.

A lesson learned by both of us, it’s sometimes not about what facts you know, but the fact that you don’t have all the facts.

Top Ten Pet Peeves

Every day at the repair shop there’s another challenge to overcome. When things go smoothly the day glides by without notice. One day passes to the next, so on and so on. But, there are those occasions when one of life’s little obstinate reminders comes along to let you know that every day can’t be perfect. Usually, just to irk even the best mechanic off for no reason at all, except to be a royal inconvenience. You know, it’s those daily activities and tasks that create their own obstacles just to rub your wrenches the wrong way. They make ya wanna flip your pressure gauges into the next service bay.

I know for a fact that there’s not enough morning coffee to ease the frustration when you are in the midst of working all day and some little insignificant problem comes along that isn’t part of the big picture you’re trying to solve. It just adds to the challenge of the day. You’ve already got to deal with the cars, the owners, the tools, the weather, and the usual soap opera stuff in the shop. Now ya gotta throw this into the mix. It’s just one of those tasks that shouldn’t be an issue but certainly can add to a tension headache and a darn good chance for a swift kick to the offending item. Hey, let’s face it, nothing’s perfect, but it sure would be nice when the simple things in the shop just stayed simple. Yea… like that’s going to happen.

Here’s a list of my top ten pet peeves of the auto shop.

10# - You drive a car onto the lift, set 3 of the 4 legs, but the last one won’t line up or get past the tire, unless you hop back in the car and move it just a bit more. (I’ve figured it out… 9 out of 10 cars don’t fit the first time. So, 1 out of 10 cars is going to give me fits in a different way.)

9# - How come the air hose is always 6 inches too short to reach that last bolt? (It doesn’t matter how much extra hose you sling off the reel, it’s still 6 inches short.)

8# - Tool borrowers who borrow tools and don’t bring them back. Tool borrowers who bring them back…broken. Tool borrowers who don’t wipe the grease off of my tools after they’re done with them. (Ok…in general… “tool borrowers”.)

7# - Small cars with gym equipment, boxes full of random stuff, and or a pile of clothes behind the driver’s seat. When I try to move the seat back, so I can drive it into the shop … it won’t move….! (I don’t think I can slip between the wheel and the seat in some of these cars, even if I went on a diet… ain’t enough room, people! ! ! )

6# - Pocket screwdrivers with extra strong magnets on the tip. Magnets are good, but not when you lean over an engine and the screwdriver attaches itself to the nearest piece of metal… every time! (The last one that did this is in my tool box… safely away from being the next projectile across the shop.)

5# - The last guy to use the oil recovery tank filled it up with the last oil change, and didn’t bother to empty it. (There’s a price on that guy’s head. He don’t know it, but he’s a marked man….)

4# - Service writers who don’t ask questions, but will write down anything the customer tells them, even if it makes absolutely no sense at all. “The car sounds like a ballerina with a sore foot.” This is NOT a good explanation of a faulty suspension component! (Let’s face it, I ain’t no ballerina, haven’t a clue what it would be like to have a sore foot as one.)

3# - Drop a car off, explain (in over abundant detail) about the problem they are having, but fail to mention the outside door handle is broken, and that I have to crawl in from the passenger side. (So, you want me to perform some Olympic gymnastics feat to fix your car? ‘Fraid not… fix the fX%#& door!)

2# - You ask if I’m a mechanic, then proceed to tell me how brilliant you are at my profession. Later on in the conversation I find out the cars you’ve worked on are all for relatives of yours… most of which don’t speak to you anymore after you’ve done your “magic” under the hood. (Oh I know, everybody is a mechanic. Might as well fess up… but I don’t need to brag about what I do… my work speaks for itself.)

1# - Engineered disasters, poor designs, and unbelievably impossible to get to bolts or components that only an idiot would have designed that way in the first place. Then show zero labor time to remove said part, which only makes it worse when I bid the job out to what it “really” is going to take. Then… as usual… the customer calls another shop, who uses the book time (only) never having done this particular job before, and ends up with the repair. Then, a few days later the same car is back with “other” problems related to somebody trying to get to those hard to reach bolts or components and has damaged something along the way. AND, of course… it’s all my fault don’t ya know………… (The battle was lost even before I started. Should’ve been a ballerina…)

Bonus Pet Peeve

Start an electrical short trace from one end of a circuit and 9 chances out of 10 the problem is on the opposite end. And it doesn’t matter if you try to “out think” it by starting on the other end … it’s still going to be on the opposite end. (Murphy’s Law… it’s a done fact…)

I think I should have started this list as the top 100 instead of the top ten, because there’s a lot more of them out there. It’s just the kind of thing that makes ya wanna split your sockets sometimes. I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s those little things that accumulate as the day goes by that makes ya wanna snap off your Snap On ratchets. The mere thought of another half-cracked-silly issue that shouldn’t be an issue showing up makes locking up the tool box and try it all again tomorrow rather tempting. But, you know you’ll stick it out, you’ll get it done, grumble a bit of course, and as anybody in the business will tell you… it’s just another day and a part of this crazy world of auto repair.

Yep, it’s just another one of those quirks that life throws at you now and then. Best thing to do is to shake it all off and deal with it. Go on about your merry way, and try to keep from bending another pry bar into a pretzel. Tomorrow’s another day. Yes, there’s always a tomorrow… and I’m sure there will always be another pet peeve just waiting to be a part of your productive day. Happy wrenchin’!

The Car and the Psychiatrist

As a professional mechanic I spend a lot of my time sorting out what the owner of a car is trying to tell me about it. Sometimes they make perfect sense and have a fair amount of knowledge about the condition. Other times it’s more emotional, or the problem is exacerbated with some obscure information they overheard from somebody else. This makes finding out the root cause of the problem even more frustrating for the mechanic.

I’ve heard everything from, “I don’t want my daughter driving around in it if it’s going to die on her!” to, “The last mechanic already ran the codes, so I don’t need it diagnosed again. Just fix it!” Sorry, but none of this drama makes any difference in making the repairs. Of course there’s the ever popular and always disturbing answer to the one question that every service writer has to ask, “What’s wrong with the car?” They’ll start there story off with the day they bought it, the first time a tire went flat, what was fixed on the car last year, and about the time when Aunt Betsy broke the door handle off, because… you know… Oh you know… it’s all related to the reason the check engine light is on right now.

I think it’s fair to say that I’ve heard all the good and all the bad, and some of the most absolutely insane self-diagnostics explanations you could ever imagine. But, what if you could get passed all that? What if I could just ask the car instead? You know, psychoanalyze the car. What would the car tell the mechanic about itself, its life, its history?

Sure a lot of cars already have internal memories that store service codes that I can analyze, and there are also a few models out there that also collect other important data that could help in crash analysis or warranty issues, such as the highest rpm recorded, what gear the car was in, or whether or not the brakes were applied. But what if there was a way the car could show its emotional state? So when I ask the car what’s wrong it gives me its life history from its point of view instead of the owner? Let’s say, by talking to a car psychiatrist and telling them what they’ve been through. If that was possible it just might go something like this:

The psychiatrist asks, “So tell me about yourself, and how this all got started.”

The car answers, “Well, it all started after I left the factory. I spent a long time in a big rail car with my brothers and sisters. Seemed like we were even on an ocean, but I couldn’t tell because I couldn’t see out of this big box we were in. Then, I came to a place where a lot of people in blue uniforms washed me, checked me over, and put a sticker on my windshield. There were lot of people that test drove me and said nice things about me. After some time, a couple took me home with them. For a long time they drove me around town, but they seldom took me in for regular service. Oh, at first they did. I had my oil changed regularly, and I even got new wiper blades too! But it wasn’t long after my warranty ran out and those free oil changes from the dealer were all used up that I didn’t get my usual weekend scrub down.

As I got older I started to have a few aches and pains. I tried to tell my owner about it. Why, I even turned on the service light for them. But they ignored that, too. My front end started to squeak, and my shocks were going bad. Things just started to go wrong, and those nice people who took such good care of me when I was new didn’t want to take care of me anymore.”

“I see,” said the psychiatrist, “Then what happened?”

“Well I went to a new home, but nobody took care of me there, either. I was falling apart Doc, I tried to tell them, too! I left oil spills on the driveway, but it didn’t do any good. Nobody wanted to take care of me anymore.”

“So, you’re feeling neglected aren’t you?” the doctor asked.

“Somewhat, and I’m not really doing so good these days. My valves are tapping, and my transmission is slipping. Why even with all the reminders and tell-tale hints I gave my owner it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

The psychiatrist wrote down his comments and recommended a full diagnostic checkup. He informed the owner of his findings during the session with their car, and told them to head to the nearest repair shop before it was too late. He then sternly tells the owner, “If this was still horse and buggy days and you kept your horse like you do your car you’d be pulling your own wagon and not the horse!”

Farfetched? Well of course it is. Who ever heard of a car getting psycho analyzed anyway. But, I think there are times the car could tell the mechanic a lot more about itself than the owner ever could. Maybe someday the technology will be so far advanced that all the zany, crazy, and weird explanations people give for the condition of their car might all be answered after a visit with the shrink. A shrink for the car that is.

HillBilly HoeDown

“Time for an old fashion sing-a-long.

You know the tune, now sing it like you

know you do when you’re in the shower!

Come on now… you can do it!”

First a little Banjo pickin’ … ya got it… OK

Here we go….

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Come listen to my story about a man named Jess

A do it yerself guy who kept his car a mess

Then one day while in a tinkerin’ mood . . .

Out from the engine came a bubblin' crude . . .

Oil that is, . . . black gold, . . .Texas tea

The next thing ya know Ol’ Jess ain’t thinkin’ clear

Kin folk said, Jess move that car out a here!

Said a mechanic place is where you ought to be

So he hauled the ol’ car to the facil-i-ty

Repair shop that is, spinnin’ tools, movin’ tires

The shop made the repairs and got ‘em on the road

Now Ol’ Jess ain’t needen’ to be towed…

Ol’ Jess decided not to work on his car anymore!

Says it’s a lot easier comin’ thru the lobby door….

Front door that is, no tow trucks, no home repairs.

Ol’ Jess yelled out what he had to say,

“Workin’ on yer own ain’t the best way”

“These here cars, are too complex for me these days”

Said, “It takes a heap of schoolin’ just to fix em’ anyways.”

Trainin’ , that is, classes, and OJT.

Ol’ Jess always refers us to, all his family and friends,

They all mention him, when they show up agin’ and agin’.

But, now it’s time say goodbye, to Jess and all his kin.

We’d like to thank you folks, fer kindly droppin in.

You're all invited back again to this here locality

To have a heapin helpin of our wrenchin’ abilities

Auto repair that is. Engines, Transmissions, Brakes, and more…

Y'all come back now, ya'hear?!

A little more Banjo and repeat the first verse.

Alright! Ya done well Y’all! ! !

Rust in Peace

Not every car that has ever traveled down a country road or city street is a good candidate for restoration. Some are just better left as a memory. I’ve seen these relics of the past come in all sorts of forms, from a basket case, to a slightly used and abused muscle car, to a very tired, old neglected vehicle. Some are “found projects” that bring out a gleam in the new owners eye. They could be a barn find, off of the internet, or at a car auction. And, as with most of these rusted-mostly forgotten rides there’s a reason it was left in the condition it is now. Sometimes, the story behind it all has more entertainment value than the car ever will.

They arrive at the shop in all sorts of ways, with all sorts of owners. Sometimes the owner has already started on the project, and after years of fiddling with it they finally threw down the wrenches, or it could be a project they’ve always wanted to restore, but never could find the time. Every now and then I run into one of these characters, you know the type, the ones with the two car garages but only room for one car, because the other space is used for storing the tattered remains of a car under a tarp. Of course, sitting outside, dealing with the elements is the spouse’s new car. While the unrestored shell slowly disintegrates, leaving a fine dust of material on the garage floor.

The last “basket” case was literally in baskets, milk crates to be exact. It was an old Honda, probably one of the first ones ever brought over. The owner bought it cheap enough, and wanted to see if I could make it road worthy again. Despite the fact that the engine was in scattered pieces in several milk crates, almost all of the parts were there. It actually turned out to be a decent little car after all the work was done.

On one occasion a customer brought in an 84 Corvette he wanted restored. As the tow truck brought this guy’s new found deal towards the service bay, you could easily see there were a lot of damaged fiberglass parts everywhere you looked. Basically, anything that was fiberglass was going to need replaced.

All the windows had signs of water damage, and the water intrusion only got worse as I opened the door. The car reeked of mildew and sewage. There were signs of water clean up to the headliner. I tried the hood release, nada… wasn’t budging. Both hood cables were sheared (rotted) off. Now the challenge was just to open the hood. I finally got both latches popped, and as the hood leaned forward I was in for a big surprise. Not only was the interior smelly and nasty, but the engine compartment was as well.

There was dried plant material still hanging on the exhaust manifolds and intertwined in the coolant fan. The valve covers looked as if they were paper thin. I leaned over and touched this odd frail looking spot on top of one of the valve covers. My finger went right through it. Everything that was aluminum or magnesium had simply deteriorated away to almost nothing.

Turns out the car was bobbing around in the Gulf of Mexico for several months before it washed up against a dock. Seems an extremely upset Ex drove it into the ocean, just before the divorce papers were signed. The cost of restoring this one was going to be astronomical. After a lengthy deliberation with the owner, he finally decided to send it back through the auction where he originally bought it.

Older models will still be the norm for restoration. I doubt you’ll see a lot of modern cars restored in the quantity as the “pre-electronic” era cars. This does bring on a whole new set of problems, as those cars and trucks age even more and leave even larger piles of dust in the garage. Things that weren’t a problem before are now going to be an even bigger problem. Restorations are one thing, rusterations are another.

It really comes down to the economics of it all. You have to ask yourself, “What is the emotional attachment worth? Or, what is that fantastic deal actually worth when it’s finished out? Sometimes the emotional attachment is much stronger than the bottom line, and you can bet the cost isn’t going to be a factor on those. But for those fantastic deals, or those bargains of the century, they soon don’t look as good when the owner gets a grip on reality and realizes the cost involved.

The latest rusteration was a 1950 Plymouth the owner has kept in the family since his college days. The owner was well into his 60’s by now, and wanted to see what it would cost to restore it back to its original glory. For a time it was under a tarp in the garage, but as the kids grew older and space became a premium, the old car was left to fend for itself behind a shed. By the time I got a chance to see it, it hadn’t been started in more than ten years, the gas cap was missing, and the fuel tank was brim full of water. Mice had set up housekeeping in every corner of the interior. It wasn’t a classic model, just a plain Jane four door sedan, and definitely not a museum piece. More like rust on rust with a touch of broken glass and a few dangling chrome accessories.

The fact that you could see through the rocker panels from one side to the other was the first clue that this car might be too far gone. The original flat head straight 6 was still in place, and after hanging a gas can on the roof to gravity feed fuel to the carburetor the darn thing actually started, sounded pretty good too. But, every freeze plug leaked (rusted through), the carburetor leaked, the water pump leaked, and there wasn’t a whole lot of good things to say about the overall condition of everything else under the hood.

“Let’s see what a 4 door 1950 Plymouth sedan sells for in tip-top shape,” I told him. A couple of internet searches and he had his answer.

Eventually, the estimated cost of restoration prevailed over the sentimental value. As he told me, “I think I waited too long to restore this car. When it would have been feasible to restore it, I didn’t have the money. Now that I have the money, it’s too far gone.”

There are a lot of instances where the car is worth the time and money to restore, then sometimes not. I feel obligated to let them know whether or not their car is a good candidate for restoration. I’d rather lose a customer and gain a friend than make enemies out of us all over a restoration that’s gone bad. Sometimes it’s best for some of those old rusted relics to remain where they are, and let them … … … “rust in peace”.

Picture This

Years ago my younger brother came to work for me. He didn’t know a thing about cars, but was willing to learn all he could. Teaching new techs is an art that most shop owners have to learn to do, but teaching your little brother can be a chore and can test your patience. I muddled thru it all and taught him what I could. I was sure at some point in time the two of us would butt heads like brothers will do, and he would take his new found skills and move up in the rank and files of the automotive technical world, but in the meantime it was his turn to learn from his older brother.

When he first started I would walk him through each step of how to diagnose a certain system in a car. A lot of times he would have questions, and I’d do my best to answer them. He learned quickly and was really sharp at picking up some of those little details that are harder to teach. You know things like how you held a certain wrench or used a certain tool, to you and me it’s no big deal. But to a novice, it’s a revelation, then you (I) tend to forget to mention those certain traits while you’re teaching. Mainly because you are trying to get to the solution as efficiently as possible, and you neglect to bring it up. Such as: “always test your test light connection before testing what you’re testing, or don’t forget to check for all your tools before you pull the car out of the shop….” Things like that.

One day we had a truck come in with dual fuel tanks on it. The gas gauge wasn’t working and needed some attention. This was a perfect opportunity for Junior to learn a few of my short cuts on these old models. It was an older Ford, in which the tank gauge ran thru the tank switchover button. It was rather easy to pull it out of the dash and connect to the gauge from the back of the switch.

Luckily it was the typical problem I’ve seen a hundred times in the past. The switch connections would melt and the tank wouldn’t switch from the front tank to the rear, and of course the gauge wouldn’t move either.

After locating the correct leads to the gauge and to the tanks I decided to show him how the gauge worked. I hooked up the one of the tanks to the crossover lead that would supply the signal from the tank to the gauge.

“Ya see this, that’s the lead to the fuel gauge in the dash, and this is one of the tank wires. I’ll connect these together and we should get a reading on the dash,” I told him.

He was watching intently, taking in all the wiring diagram information, the location of the wires, and how I was bypassing the switch. He was fascinated with the flow of the current and the way the gauge would respond. I even went as far as moving the gauge from full to empty by opening and closing it to a ground signal. While I had his attention I filled him in on the two types of gauges that were used back then (bimetallic and magnetic) and how low resistance on a bimetal type gauge would read near a full tank, while a magnetic gauge would read close to empty. Change the resistance and the gauge would/should read accordingly.

“So, if we put gas in the tank the gauge should move right? That way we could check the sending units in the tanks too,” he asked me.

“Great idea, grab a gas can and let’s add a few gallons,” I said, excited that he was so interested in the project.

He grabbed a can of gas and poured a few gallons in the tank. I was watching the gas guage carefully, but there was no movement. I knew I was on the right wires, but nothing was happening. Now what? Are there more problems?

“Crawl under there, and check to be sure the wire color is correct,” I yelled from the cab to him.

“Yep, it’s the right wire on the tank.”

“Well, we might have to pull the tank; it’s not changing the gauge readings up here.”

“Before we do that let’s add some more gas, maybe we didn’t add enough,” Junior tells me.

I thought I better go back and help hold the funnel, while he poured the gas in the tank. Unknowing to me, all this time my wife (who was the office manager) was listening in on the whole thing. She likes to keep tabs on me, and make sure I’m not going into one of my usual rants or having a fit because I had to explain something over and over again to little brother. This time she was standing at the corner of the shop just behind the truck with a camera. “CLICK”, I heard the camera shutter go off and she was back there laughing like there was no tomorrow.

“What’s so funny?” I asked her.

“You two idiots have been putting gas in the wrong tank. You’re on the front tank, and you’re putting gas in the rear tank,” my wife answers, laughing hysterically.

About then the camera “clicked” again… this time it was an action shot taken at precisely the exact moment when these two idiots had that dumb struck look on their faces and realized what they just did. The shot had both of us on our knees, one holding a funnel and the other with the half empty gas can, and both of us staring right into the camera lens. Couldn’t have set it up any better if you tried.

The picture clearly showed the side of the truck with both fuel tank doors visible and there was no doubt which tank we were putting in the extra gas. I guess it was one of those things I should have mentioned when we were checking the tank senders… make sure we are both on the same tank.

For years that picture hung over her desk, and anytime I thought I was so smart she would point at the photo. Usually with that typical smirk, usually shaking her finger at me and of course the laugh… she had to laugh, but it wasn’t all that funny until she had me laughing about it too. Ok, Ok, I’m not perfect... and now my little brother knows it too.

These days he’s a top notch tech at a dealership, and I have to call him on occasions for some help on how to solve things once in a while. Oh the photo… uhmmm… what photo?? Somehow it’s missing… haven’t seen the darn thing in years. But I guess I really don’t need to see the photo … the wife has a pretty good memory... she reminds me just how smart I think I am every chance she gets.

Ok, Who Left the Gate Open?

Clunkers, Hoopty’s, Leaners, Rust Buckets, and those bumper-draggin’-krinkled cars must travel in packs. How else can you explain how these oil dripping, rod knocking, windshield cracking, grease slinging, POS’s (Piece of Scrap) can find their way to the shop all at the same time? I swear there’s a gate at the end of the street that somebody has left open.

I’m sure there’s a gate, there has to be one, and I’m sure there’s somebody down there who opened that sucker up and sent all of these dilapidated, unmaintained, falling apart fugitives of the service bay to my front door. Sometimes, after I close up at night I go on a hunt for this elusive gate. I can’t find it. Where’s this gate at? Wait a minute, I think I know why. When the closed sign goes up they move the gate to another part of town. Yea that’s it…it’s gotta be… and I’ll bet they’ve got a couple of these gates in every time zone too! It’s a mass underground movement I tell ya!

Seriously, I can go for weeks or even months and not see one of these 4 wheel disasters. But, when one does sneak passed the gate one or two more always slip through as well. And, as usual, their owners are only concerned with one problem and one problem only, but with these run down relics it’s never “one” problem, it’s a series of numerous problems that lead up to a cataclysmic failure that finally brought these unrecognizable modes of transportation off the highways and byways and into a repair shop.

As of the last “super moon” just a while ago, the gate must have been opened for an extended length of time. It wasn’t just one or two… but dozens of these overdue for the crusher jobs coming in.

One guy asked if I could find out what the grinding noise was in the left front of his van. He forgot to mention he was dragging a huge overloaded trailer behind this old van. I told him that I can’t put it up on the lift with a trailer hooked to it, so if he didn’t mind, disconnect the trailer. After he pulled into the lot, and tried to back up, he found out his reverse gear had gone out. Right there in the parking lot!

Geez, now I’m out in the parking lot looking at this POS not to get paid mind you… but to get rid of it. It was without a doubt the most tore up, bent, broken, fluid dripping, cancer rotted vehicle I’ve ever seen that still had air in all four tires. The guy wants to discuss fixing his metal grinding sound but isn’t concerned about the lack of reverse. I sternly told the guy, “Look, I’ll see what’s making the grinding sound, but, you’ll have to help push it off of the lift and out of the service bay.” He didn’t like that idea all that well. Oh, I forgot to mention… there was just enough room for the driver to get in the van. The passenger side was full of junk. Even the dash had about a foot of crumbled up papers, coffee cups, and various other unusable items stashed on it. And, the smell, OMG! Unbearable!

Just as that one left and was heading down the street the next patron of the gate passed it on its way into the parking lot. This time it’s a service truck, a big Dodge Ram diesel dually on a trailer. It doesn’t start, and it’s supposed to have had a fire accompanied with all of this. The two fellas that were there to drop the truck off had no offloading ramps, no winch, no boards, and no idea what they were doing. I asked, “How did you get the truck on the trailer?”

“Oh, that was easy,” the brightest of the two of them told me, “We used a crane and picked it up and dropped it on the trailer.”

I watched in amazement as these two knuckleheads scampered around the trailer like the Keystone cops trying to come up with some way of getting it off. The no#2 trailer efficiency expert had a brilliant idea. “Let’s tie a rope to that there building over yonder, then I’ll drive the truck we used to tow it in with and you steer the broken down one. I’ll gun it and you’ll slide right off the trailer!”

OMG! ! I’ve got to put a stop to this right now. I came out of the shop with both arms waving frantically, “Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second! You’re not using the neighbors building as some sort of anchor post for some foolish idea. How about you guys take this thing home, find the ramps, or get that crane and put this thing on a proper tow truck. Because what you’re suggesting can lead to all kinds of problems.”

I thought I might have to break out a chalk board and a couple of school desks to go through to these guys about the variables that could happen. Of course, they both just stared straight ahead as if every brain cell in their head had just exploded. The last thing I needed was for these two hayseeds to be on the six o’clock news explaining they just saw Big Foot in the parking lot pushing their truck or how aliens landed and smashed the service truck into the side of the building next door. They finally towed it home… what a relief.

Not to be outdone, the very next one was another piece of work. Lost horsepower, wouldn’t shift right, and sounded terrible. What a horrid piece of machinery. Honestly, you could have scrapped the gunk off this engine into a rag and squeezed a quart of oil out of it. I managed to get the inspection cover off of the timing belt and just as I suspected the timing had jumped. Way overdue for replacement. It’s not only going to need a new belt, but a bath before I work on this hunk of junk, and then… who knows what I’ll find. It just never ends.

Someday I’m going to find that gate, and when I do.... I’m going to weld it shut. Lock it up and throw away the key. If you spend your day looking at these unbelievable poorly kept vehicles like I do, ya just have to ask yourself. “Can it get any worse?” Oh, it does… and it certainly will. For the most part, these sorts of jobs never turn into paying/profitable jobs. Most of these cars are so far gone that the repair costs keep going up and the customer still ends up with a bucket of rust to drive.

Then… … … Hold on a second, listen. Do ya hear it? I hear the sound of a gate creaking open, and the sounds of an old wore out motor. I can see plumes of black smoke and I can smell the burnt oil too! Oh no, they’re coming. Ok, who left the gate open! Here we go again….

Mechanic one – Car zero

There’s a game played nearly every day that doesn’t have a lot of fans filling the stadiums or bleachers. It’s a battle between the machines and the humans. The combatants are a car, any car, and a mechanic, any mechanic. The playing field can be any place from a far off farm field to a one stall garage at the edge of town. The goal is to diagnose and repair said car, while keeping your wits, sanity and all your appendages intact. Each game has some time limits already established by a ruling guide for labor hours, but this is only a guide, and not the actual time. Additional time maybe added if it is deemed necessary for extended play.

Scraped knuckles and other small injuries are considered a normal occurrence. No time outs are allowed, unless said injuries requires medical attention. In the event of a medical emergency, an alternate mechanic can step in and continue play, if the original mechanic has to forfeit his/her position. Otherwise, they just suck it up and move on. Delay of game can come from all sorts of directions. Parts may need special ordered, a bolt might be frozen in place, or the customer has to think about the whole repair before the game commences. Who’s going to win, the car or the mechanic? It’s a daily battle of wits, determination, and perseverance at the repair shop.

The rules of this game change with every new model introduced. Newer and more sophisticated systems that are developed change the play book all the time. Each of these new systems is another challenge for the technician to learn the new play, understand it, and make the repairs. The game doesn’t get any easier the longer you play. What was a good offensive call last time may end up in lost yardage this time around. Computer systems change, procedures change, and the car changes, but that game goes on. The car, the customer, the parts, and the shop, all play a part in making this game either easier or tougher than it was before.

It all starts with a good defense. Researching the information about the new plays and procedures is the first line of defense. Good, solid information about your opponent (the car) is the foundation for any successful game. There’s always some interception thrown or returned kick that makes it tougher to play the game. One tid-bit of information that is omitted in transcribing the information from the manufacturer’s pages, or poor descriptions and procedures given to the second string information outfits is just one more chance for the mechanic to fumble. They don’t want to punt it, they don’t want to lose yardage, it’s all about a win or nothing else.

Offensively, the customer has the edge. They bring the problem to the mechanic and start the play. Most of the time the customer starts their first play with an audible call that is usually scrambled up with a few facts and a whole lot of garbled unintelligible information. They will begin their play by explaining what’s wrong with the car. Sometimes the banter begins with, “I want my brake fluid changed, and I want the brake pads looked at because the pedal feels spongy.” Typically, self-diagnostics leads to broken plays or far worse… a full on blitz. It’s now second and long, and the mechanic has the ball. The mechanic asks, “Is the fluid black, or contaminated in some way that you know of?” Oh, oh, no yardage gained here; the customer was sneaking in an illegal play. It’s the old “Bad information from the internet” play. That’ll be a 15 yard penalty, loss of downs, and a full diagnostics charge now.

The mechanic goes on the offensive and diagnosis the problem. It’s just worn pads and soft front brake line hoses. Now all that’s left is to run the play past the customer and let them make the call.

The call is made, there’s a slight hesitation, but… we have a first down! The job is sold. Now to do the actual work.

All the preliminary tests are completed, the parts have been ordered, and the half time show is underway. The third quarter starts with the mechanic waiting for the parts. While they are being delivered the tear down can commence. As the players on the field scramble for positon, pulling the parts from the shelves, and making the delivery, several yards are gained and end zone is in sight.

We’re down to the last quarter of this game. Can the mechanic pull this one off? Will the delivered pads be the correct ones, will the lines fit correctly, and did he make the right call? The play is made, the components have been installed. All the procedures have been checked and rechecked again. It’s all up to this next play… the drive test.

The test drive was a success. Move the chains! It’s 1^st and goal. The mechanic proceeds to the service desk with the completed paper work. The service writer checks the signs, gives a nod to the tech, makes a motion for the customer from the side lines, and the final play of the game is at hand. The transaction has been made, the customer is happy with the results, the service writer is smiling, and the mechanic makes the run for the end zone. SCORE! It’s mechanic one, car zero. The winner and still champion, the mechanic.

The customer shakes hands at the end of the game with the mechanic and service writer. It was a great game, well done everyone. No time to waste. All the players have to get ready for the next game. It will be another battle, and another challenge to take on.

In the game of auto mechanics the challenge and changes are all part of the game we play. Nobody knows all the plays. It’s something you have to go back to the locker room and study time and time again. But with the proper calls, good plays, and a whole lot of effort, mechanics across the country can tackle it.

If the game didn’t have so many option plays with all the various changes in today’s cars, the game would be a lot easier for both the defense and the offensive sides. But we all know that the changes are part of the game and will always be. It’s a lot tougher game to play at home these days. I’m still surprised how many arm chair quarterbacks are out there still trying to play the game in their home garage. Playing the game is one thing, but knowing how to play the game correctly is what every mechanic does when they step up to the scrimmage line. Mechanics play to win and yes, we do keep score.

thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed it.

As the World Turns

We are all on a journey through space and time. From the moment we are born we start our travels around a large star we call the sun while the earth spins on its axis and follows more or less a predictable pattern of seasonal changes. As time moves on, we, the human race, (Why is it called a race anyway? Are we in some sort of a hurry?), shapes and molds our environment to suit our needs. We invent things to better our lives, and as we spin through the galaxy, our inventions keep improving. The automobile for example, has evolved and improved with every turn of this big blue marble. So much so, that it tends to leave a lot of people dizzy as to the accomplishments and or the advancements of the modern vehicle. For some folks, putting logical circumstances into reality is just too much for them, especially when it involves their cars.

As we make this trek on our little planet, sooner or later you’ll encounter some of these celestial occupants that for one reason or another find all this spinning around just a bit too much for them. It could be from the tilted axis and global rotation or gravity has placed their common sense deep down in some dark place where no one has gone before or ever will. But, you can count on one thing… if they’ve got a car, they’re going to need something serviced, and sooner or later they’ll show up at a repair shop.

I’ve seen some pretty strange stuff from time to time. The one thing I can count on is with the next spin of the globe they’ll be another unbelievable galactic traveler at my door. It’s as if the planet has to throw one of these “off kilter” individuals my way just to keep me from getting dizzy myself.

Here’s one that still makes me lose my equilibrium. On a rather average day, I thought it was appropriate to mention to the service writer that things have been going to smooth for too long. I was sure something weird should happen pretty soon, because if it doesn’t, all the unused chaos will start to build up until it turns into a gigantic black hole that nothing escapes from. I guess I spoke to soon, sure enough, in walks the next traveler from the world beyond normalcy… it started again.

This guy came in with a request from way out there in the outer reaches of space. He said, “I’d like you to add my two cylinders back onto my engine.” (Did ya feel that? I think the earth reversed direction for a second.) “I had them in the car yesterday, but their gone now,” he went on to tell me.

At this point I don’t know whether to laugh or stand there and stare in disbelief or grab a hold of something just in case the earth shifted again. Well, curiosity got the best of me; I had to ask, “How is it that you lost two cylinders?” The gentleman stepped up to the counter and in a very authoritative voice said, “The last shop I was at . . . (Slamming his hand on the counter just then.) . . . Stole them!” (It happened again, I swear I felt the earth shutter that time.) Now, I’m pretty sure I don’t keep spare cylinders lying around, and I can’t remember ever removing one let alone two of them. But there’s always a first time for everything. I’m sure I just missed them; they’re probably on the same shelf that I keep the blinker fluid and pre-stretched timing belts on, which is usually kept next to the seat belt glue.

The story goes that he had gone to a shop that morning to have his car tuned up. He told them what kind of car he had and they gave him an estimate for it. But, before they even started ordering parts they checked things out. Turns out that it wasn’t a V6 engine as the customer described, but a 4 cylinder engine. The cost of the repair was going to be a whole lot less than the V6 so there wasn’t any point in calling him; they figured he’d get a thrill out of having a much smaller bill than what he was quoted.

However, when the owner of this galactic speedster picked his car up he wasn’t at all happy that his car seemed to be shy a couple of pistons. Somehow someway, the earth continued to spin despite this guy’s valiant efforts to cause a major scene in this shops lobby. He really wanted them to put them back. Chaos ensued; finally after the police cleared the seen this guy still wanted a second opinion. So he ended up at my abode. (Why me? Seriously… what kind of gravitational pull yanked this guy across town to my shop?)

I tried to straighten this whole thing out. I went as far as checking the VIN for him, and sure enough it showed his car to be a 4 cylinder engine from the factory. There was no getting through to this guy though. His mind was made up no matter what I said. He left in a huff and as far as I know he’s still driving around trying to find someone to install his two missing cylinders.

Then there was the guy who dropped off his car off before his vacation. He was going to some far away island country for a little R&R. We were supposed to put a new engine in while he was gone. 3 days after he left I get a call from him. He’s on some highway somewhere in this foreign country talking … Ok … yelling, on the phone that he is following his truck as we speak and wants to know what the heck we are doing so far from the shop. I have no words at this point. I’m on the phone, in the shop, staring at this guy’s truck, in the service bay with a new crate motor dangling from the hoist just about to be dropped in. I can only imagine what this guy is going to do when he catches up to his supposed truck. Must be one of those alter universes this guy was calling from.

Oh there’s more… there’s always more. As long as the world spins around the sun they’ll be more. Maybe that’s why it’s called “winding down” at the end of the day. Ah, yes, as the world turns away from the sun and evening approaches it’s a good time to unwind from all these dizzy encounters, a time for contemplation and chance to think of how you can improve things in the future. Enough already, I’m getting dizzy thinking about it all, pour me another sarsaparilla bartender… it looks like it’s going to be another long trip around the sun tomorrow.

Unconventional Repairs

There are times when all the diagnostic trees, diagrams, and graphs aren’t enough. Sometimes, you just can’t get from point A to point B without some sort of homemade intervention that will give you the answer. You need a little ingenuity, a little of that “Mac Gyver” magic to pull you through the next obstacle. It’s all part of that “natural mechanical ability” each one of us possesses; some use more of it than others of course. It’s safe to say, if you spend your day tinkering with mechanical or electrical devices like most mechanics do, you’ll soon find a way to circumvent a procedure with some sort of creative method or short cut that gets the job done faster.

Not all repairs require this touch or finesse, but there are those times when being unconventional just works better. If it wasn’t for me being a little unconventional way back when, and coming up with my own “Mac Gyver” quick-on-the-spot repair, I might have never impressed my wife. She was a customer at the time, and had a little problem with a power window. She didn’t have a lot to spend on the repair, and figured she could charm me into taking care of it. (I’ll admit it… I was a bit smitten from the get go.)

The retaining spring for one of the window motor’s brushes had snapped in half. All I had to do was find a replacement spring. I dug and dug around my tool box and desk drawers, but couldn’t find a spring the right size. Then I looked over and saw that she was patiently waiting for her car, while working on a crossword puzzle with a ball point pen. I struck up a conversation and talked her into letting me “borrow” her pen for a minute. As I unscrewed the pen and removed the spring, I gave her a wink and told her that this little spring was all I needed to fix her car. She looked a little confused, and had her doubts, but it worked perfectly, and… I got a date with that pretty little gal out of it. I’ll bet ya never thought that an unconventional repair would lead to a date and later marriage? Well, it did.

There are a lot of unconventional repairs that aren’t in any of the repair manuals. Things like heating or cooling a component to see if it is affected by temperature. If you’re following the diagnostic menu to the letter, it might tell you to check the impedance, or voltage input/output when the failure occurs. But, it might be just as easy to freeze that stubborn component and recheck it. I used this unconventional diagnostic method years ago to diagnose overheated ignition pick-up coils and modules. Definitely not in the repair procedures, but it did the trick.

There are all kinds of simple diagnostics tests that aren’t in any manual. Like spritzing water on plug wires to see if they’ll arc, or using a test light to ground out a spark plug. This isn’t duct tape and coat hanger repairs, not at all. I’m talking about coming up with ways to simplify, or side step some of the long drawn out procedures mechanics and technicians run across on a daily basis.

This “Mac Gyver” stuff isn’t anything new either. Odd repairs and diagnostic work like this have been going on since the beginning of time. Ask any old timer, they might tell you about putting a wooden clothes pin on the fuel line to keep the fuel from freezing up or vapor locking on a hot day. It works on the same principal as laying a wooden spoon across a pot to keep it from boiling over. (Never tried that? Try it, it works! I’ll bet your better half might know this trick.) These days however, when people talk about unconventional repairs or better ideas they don’t call them “unconventional” anymore, they’re called “life hacks”. Call it what you want… as long as it works.

If you look around I’m sure you’ll find a few life hacks just about everywhere. From the kitchen to the garage there’s always something that somebody has come up with to make life easier. Me, I’m more interested in something that makes my job in the shop easier. Like the few tricks mechanics have come up with to get stuck bolts out, or using plain water to free up rusted parts, or dousing a wire or harness with baby powder so it will slide easier through a narrow opening. The list is endless. I think it would be great if there was a website or book with all these life hacks that mechanics have come up with over the years. I know I’d keep a copy handy. Ya never know when you might need an unconventional method to solve a problem.

I haven’t found a book on the subject yet, but there a few of these life hacks that have made their way to You Tube. Like using starting fluid to reset a huge tire back on the rim. But, for the most part these tricks of the trade go unnoticed. Then again, there are a few of these unconventional repairs I’ve heard of that I find hard to believe. Some seem too farfetched or just plain idiotic to me. Let’s face it, not every Mac Gyver hack works all that well either.

My wife, you know the one with the ball point pen spring? She recently had a knee replaced. What an ordeal, lots and lots of tests, therapy sessions, and countless ice bags. Well after the months of physical therapy was over, she was still dealing with some tendonitis in one spot. Her doctor wanted to keep her on the regiment of continual therapy. But, her therapist had another idea. Her therapist was also a licensed dry needle therapist. Ok, call it what it is… acupuncture. After having her calf and quad muscles poked and prodded with a few dozen needles, the tendonitis problem vanished completely. It might be an ancient form of an unconventional repair… but it worked. Later, when she went back to her doctor for a checkup, he wasn’t exactly convinced the needle treatment had anything to do with her recovery.

Me, I’m just glad it eased her pain. Results are what matters, not so much how ya got there. That’s how a lot of these life hacks go. One person thinks its nuts, while another tries it, and it works great for them. To this day that stuffy old doctor isn’t buying the story. All I can say is, “Get over it Doc. Sometimes all we need to do is think outside the box and try something a little unconventional. It just might be the answer.”

The New Guy In the Shop

We’ve all had that first day at the new job and we’re never quite sure how things are going to go. Your resume got you this far but now it’s up to your actions and reactions whether or not you’re going to fit in. As we all know, first impressions are usually the best impressions, so you want to get started off on the right foot.

First things first, where should I put my tool box? Which lift is mine? Used oil, where does it go? How many air lines are there? Who do I see about ordering parts? So many questions, so many things to know. It can be quite intimidating at first, you have to find things out like; does the boss allow personal phone calls, or whether or not the shop will tolerate your music. It could be the first job that your handed that might have you on edge. Then again, it all could be a breeze, a piece of cake, nothing for a stepper! We can always hope so.

Look around the shop a bit and it won’t be hard to spot the trainees/apprentices though. At least you’ll know who they are. The trainees are the ones with the grease smudges on their face. They haven’t learned not to wipe their face with their greasy hands yet. That is, unless you are the new trainee, well then, here’s a tip for ya… wash up first!

Once you’ve moved your toolbox to the designated spot and start opening a few drawers don’t be surprised if there are a few peering eyes trying to see what tools you brought with you. They're just trying to find out if you’ve got the right kind of tools, or which tools you’re most likely to borrow. Borrowing tools and being the new guy isn’t a good combination, but I’m sure you’ll have to borrow something sooner or later. Then again, if you’ve got something they need, that’s a whole different story.

After a few weeks you’ll start to get into the swing of things. Soon the new guy thing isn’t so much of a curiosity as much as it is the subject at the break table. “What prank can we pull on the new guy”. I’d say there’s a good chance if you walk near the break room and you hear a lot of chatter but when you actually walk into the room everything goes quiet… uhm… you’re probably the subject of conversation. Especially if the other mechanics are sitting there smiling sheepishly. Chances are somebody is going to grab you by the ankles while you’re on a creeper or air up the portable bead seater and blast air up your pants leg, so be prepared.

Being the new guy not only means you have to show what you can accomplish to the rest of the crew and the boss but you’ve also gotta show that you are part of the team. Chances are you’re going to judged using “the new guy” equation. That’s new guy divided by how many mistakes, times how many days you’ve been there, minus any pranks you’ve survived, multiplied by the square root of what the boss thinks of the whole thing. It’s all in the math at that point.

Some shops don’t condone pranks on the new guy, while other shops feel it’s a rite of passage. Make it through the first couple of weeks while making a few new friends and keeping the new guy equation to a minimum may mean there’s a good chance you’ve passed the hurdles of the new job. But that doesn’t mean pranks are over, oh no… no matter how years you’re there, if you’re the last hire… you’re still the new guy. So don’t be surprised if you come in Monday morning and find your tool box dangling from the lift by way of a roll of duct tape.

So what should you do if you’re the new guy? Well, here are a few pointers that might help. Ask a lot of questions, but don’t ask a lot of questions. Keep your work area clean, but don’t clean your area so often that that’s all they think you do around there. If you’ve got to borrow a tool, clean it, wipe it down, and personally hand it back to the rightful owner. Don’t just lay it on his tool box. Concentrate on your job, and don’t be late for work. Make a good impression, but that doesn’t mean trying to date the boss’s daughter on the first day of work. Unless, that’s how you got the job, if that’s the case… you’re on your own buddy!

As the new guy you’ve got a lot to do besides doing the job you were hired in for. Cars are a personal thing with a lot of people, and behind the scenes at the repair shop that personal touch of how the mechanic approaches a repair is just as personal to the shop. Each shop seems to have their own atmosphere and ways of doing things; you’ve just got to figure it all out. Oh, and don’t worry if somebody sends you off looking for an “ID-ten-T”…. they’re just messing with ya. It shows you’re starting to fit into the group, and you’re not just the new hire but becoming a part of the team.

Knocking that Chip Off

It seems no matter what you’re doing, where you are, or who you’re with sooner or later you’ll run across somebody with a huge chip on their shoulder. In the business of auto repair there’s quite a few. I’ve ran into my share of them over the years. Some shops operate all day with a huge chip on their shoulder. Their method of convincing a customer that they are the best is by putting down everyone else in the business. Sometimes it’s just an individual mechanic who’s got a boulder on the shoulder. You just never know, but you can certainly tell when it’s around. I can’t leave myself out, my wife reminds me about it once in a while, but I’m sure it still shows through.

There are those occasions when somebody needs to knock that chip off. Sometimes it’s just what we all need, you know, a little reminder that even though we “think” we’re that good… we all still have a lot to learn. And, sometimes we all need a little reminder to tone down that chip.

A few years ago a lady brought her car in from another repair shop and needed some detective work done as to why her alternator kept going out. The previous shop had definitely gone the way of most amateurs do when it comes to a car problem. “Change parts until it works.” This was no different. Five times this guy changed the alternator for this lady. Five times mind you! It still holds the record of alternator swapping in one vehicle without solving the problem that I’ve ever been witness to. The problem wasn’t the alternator at all, but this bright young lug nut of a mechanic called me to tell me that it was definitely the alternators and he wanted me to write it up that way because the parts house was making him pay for the last three. Ok, maybe one, perhaps two… but five bad alternators? Even for the cheap brands out there five bad ones in a row is a bit much. But, I’ll check it out from here.

The entire problem was a blown fuse caused by the wire rubbing against the engine block. Who knows when that happened? Could have been from the first one, maybe the second alternator… we’ll never know. This Lug nut had to call me back and give me the old, “Don’t make me look stupid!” phone call. I retorted, “I’m just telling it like it is, brother.”

Then there was “Mr. Fix-it”. Mr. Fix-it could fix anything as he pointed out to me just as the tow truck showed up with his vehicle on the hook. While it was being unloading, Mr. Fix-it explained in great detail just exactly what he wanted me to do, and that the only reason I was doing anything (Remember… he can fix anything) was because he didn’t have the needed tools to finish the repair. Mr. Fix-it’s weekend project was to tune it up, but after changing all the parts and I’m sure… after a few too many beers all the truck would do is buck, jerk and blow flames out of the carburetor. His reasoning for me to check the timing and adjust the carburetor was because (as he put it) “That’s how the flames are getting out of the engine.” In his haste to empty those beer cans he had put the spark plug wires on wrong. I think Mr. Fix-its chip needs a little adjustment.

There are times when that chip is showing too proudly on my own shoulders too. Yep, I’ve eaten crow more than a few times and I’ve needed a little reminder that I’m not Mr. Perfect. The latest was on a 12 year old car that I put a new computer in to solve some issues with the coolant fan and A/C. After replacing the PCM the coolant fan and A/C worked great, which, not to make excuses … but I will… was all that I was concerned about. The owner was going to pick it up after hours. So with the air nice and cold I parked it outside for him to pick it up later. He lived quite a ways from the shop so it was a lot easier for him to pick it up after he got off work. The next day I get a call that his car isn’t shifting correctly and it never did that before. I suggested that he take it to the nearest transmission shop and have it checked out since he was so far away from me.

The customer told the tranny guy, “I just had a new computer put it.” And, with that info, this guy proudly showed his gigantic chip on his shoulder and made it perfectly clear to the customer that he knew exactly what the problem was. With a bold and quick to judge answer he told him it was the wrong computer. Well, of course it is. What else would a guy with a big chip on his shoulder tell a customer? Because we all know the last guy who worked on the car is an idiot. (Me in this case) I told him that the PCM numbers matched from the dealer to the parts department and back again. It’s not the wrong computer. (There’s my chip on the shoulder showing up.)

Looks like there are two of us with mammoth rocks on our shoulders this time. I got the car back to my shop the next day to see what was going on. Oh it was certainly the right computer, but…. It was the wrong programming in the computer. Gosh dang it! I’ll do the honors; I’ll knock that chip off of my own shoulder for ya. Yep, the tranny guy was right; it was the wrong “computer” just not in the sense that it’s the wrong computer, but wrong because it had the wrong software in it. I suppose that’s a double chip knock off, one for me and one for the tranny guy. Live and learn I guess, my bad… we were both right and wrong at the same time. Same conclusion just a different way of getting there.

Finally, the most typical of situations is when the mechanic or the customer assumes they know all the answers even before they’ve had it tested. Just because you think you know doesn’t mean you’re right. Every time this happens I envision a huge chip sitting on someone’s shoulder just waiting to be knocked off. Honestly, it pays to test and diagnose before giving any kind of black and white answer to a customer or to another mechanic. Assumptions make us all look bad, and I’d prefer not to be compared to the south end of a north bound horse.

Even the best of us have had to surrender our chip from time to time. Getting that chip knocked off is a humbling experience, but one that will make you a better person in the long run. We all could use a little reminder that we’re not perfect. Proud is one thing, being too sure of yourself is another.

It’s All In The Name?

The car, the jalopy, the family truckster, the get-a-bout, the grocery getter, and the rust bucket are just a few of the generic names we have given to our automobiles. Some names are for the affection we have with our ride, while others are for a certain condition or appendage on the car. Hollywood has even gotten into the act of naming cars and making movies about them. “Christine, Herbie, Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang, and a whole lot more. Now, I haven’t named every car or truck I’ve owned, but there have been a few memorable cars that deserved a little recognition with an appropriate name.

Giving cars a name has been around for generations. Even back to the time of the horse and buggy they all had a name given to them by their owners. Just about every car make or model carries some sort of connotation or quirky acronym depicting that particular vehicle. Even the car manufacturers have to give each of their products a name. How else would you know what somebody was talking about if it didn’t? It could be a series of numbers, an acronym, or a name that just sort of goes with the style of car. What you call your car, or what the manufacturers label their car can be just as important as any other part of the car. In some aspects it could depict the reliability behind the name, or it could be what distinguishes it from another car and/or its faults.

There have been a few names over the years that have that kind of reputation. The Edsel, Corvair, AMC Pacer, and so on. Just the mere mention of the name of some of these models gets you thinking about some aspect of that particular car. Then there are those production names that if taken out of context are not all that well accepted in certain company, such as the Probe, Hummer, Swinger, and the like. There are a few names that I never quite figured out how they ever decided on using them together. The Dodge Ram for example; two words that in certain contexts means to avoid… or smash into. Surely somebody at Dodge noticed that too.

How about some of the spelling of these names from the manufacturers? Half the time when I’m writing up an invoice for a certain car, and I’m not sure of the correct spelling I’ll just scribble something that looks sort of like the name, and wait until I get out to the car and copy it down correctly. Look how many different spellings there are for Sequoyah for instance.

Some manufacturers pick out names related to certain natural occurrences. VW for a long time named all their cars after different winds from around the world. Even more hilarious is the pronunciation of some of these car names. Come on admit it, the first time you looked at the word “Prius” you pronounced it wrong (me, too). There are some of these car names I probably still don’t pronounce correctly, and I’m sure I will always pronounce them wrong.

Naming a manufactured car probably goes through a number of tightly guarded secret meetings, sketch ideas, advertising thoughts, and a whole lot of thinking before they actually place the name badge onto the car or truck. You’d think with all the resources they have at their disposal, every contingency has been covered, every angle has been looked into, and no stone is left unturned in the search for the perfect name for their next assembly line creation. You would think so wouldn’t ya? Well, sometimes somebody slips up, goofs, or forgets to check what their latest named drawing board creation means in another language. Some of these names can end up with some very embarrassing results. Here’s a few.

Nova – In Spanish it reads as “no va” (two words) a loose translation means, “No go, or will not”

Parisienne – In French it means, “French lady from Paris”.

Fiera – In some Latin American countries “Fiera” means, “Ugly, old woman.”

VW Jetta – In Italian the letter J is rarely used. Meaning that in some dialects, especially near Naples, the name is pronounced “Letta”. And that translates as “throw away”.

Mitsubishi Pajero – In Spain the Pajero is sold as the Montero. (Good thing) Pajero in Spanish is a crude word for masturbation.

Rolls Royce Silver Mist – Never heard of one? There’s a good reason why. Rolls Royce renamed the Silver Mist to the Silver Shadow just before any were sold. In Germany “mist” means “manure”.

Mitsubishi Starion – Originally Mitsubishi wanted to call it the Stallion, keeping up with their line of cars named after horses. However when the word “Stallion” is spoken with a heavy Japanese accent it is pronounced “Starion”. Instead of sending any paper work about the official name to the factory making the name badges, it was done by phone, and yes, in Japanese of course. The name plates were manufactured and installed onto the cars before anyone spotted the error. The name literally, and figuratively, is stuck to the cars now.

Pinto – When Ford decided to market the Pinto in Brazil they had to perform a hasty name change. In Brazil, the word “pinto” is the slang nickname for the male member.

Toyota MR2 – Who could be offended by a name such as MR2? Well the French it would seem. When spoken, “MR2″ would be pronounced “me-re-de”, or in translation s**t. Toyota’s practical solution. Remove the “2” from the name badge for all the French marketed cars.

So what’s in a name? Sounds like quite a bit. There’s a name for every car out there, some good some not so good. And, I’m sure they’ll be hundreds more movies, songs, and books written about a certain named car in the future. Whether it’s a little, bitty 3 wheeled car, or a gigantic 18 wheeler there’s a name that fits the personality of the vehicle and its owner. When it comes to our contraptions, exotic rides, or just the plain everyday around town cars… you can be sure of one thing…, you can call it anything you’d like, because it really is… all in the name.

Sometimes Advice is the Best Help

Another day at the shop and the phone rings. It’s a DIY’r asking questions.

“Say, do you program computers?”

“Yes, I do,” I answer.

“I got one from the junk yard, because I can’t afford a new one.” the caller says.

On other occasions it’s someone asking how much to fix their brake lights, because they already changed the bulb and checked the fuse, so it must be something electrical, but they don’t have any money for repairs. In both cases my first response is not to shoot them a price or chase them away, but to ask a few questions. Nine chances out of ten they have no clue as to what’s wrong with their car. (I’d like to say ten out of ten, but I’m giving at least one of these callers the benefit of doubt for they might be right for a change.)

I know I probably shouldn’t categorize these types of callers, but after three decades of doing this same job, and answering the same questions from the same type of people, I’ve got a pretty good idea who is on the other end of the phone. They all have the same things in common. One, no spare cash to properly fix their car, and two, very little knowledge of today’s cars.

Here’s how I see it (from a professional mechanic’s view). As of 1995 the computer systems in cars started to involve more than one aspect of the vehicle. Meaning, the engine, transmission, HVAC, security, and other systems were all combined into a mass of confusing electronic pathways. Factory security systems were the norm, and OBD II became the standard as well. Yes, there were plenty of vehicles with sophisticated systems prior to 1995, but this was a big turning point across the board for all manufacturers. With that said, the problem is those cars are old, the systems are old, the technology is dated (compared to today’s standards), and those cars are more or less past their prime.

Most of these callers are familiar with the early years of electronic systems, the ones where all you did was swap an ECM, or change a bulb or two. Those cars from the mid 80’s are all but in the scrap yard, and the cars from the 70’s and older are now in the hands of collectors and/or people who are restoring them. Thus, the average Joe is more than likely driving around something with a sophisticated computer controlled engine system in it.

I suppose it’s something all the engineers and manufacturers didn’t think about once these electronic marvels of modern society became the average Joe’s transportation. Let’s face it, cars reach a point where they are not entirely worn out, but are still in some working order. However, years ago an aging car could be kept going for a lot less money than today. Sure, the older cars might find that the corner discount parts store may carry a cheap knock off part for them, but a lot of times those cheap parts just add to the problem.

There’s also parts availability to worry about, too. Most manufacturers won’t stock certain components after the ten year mark. Salvage may be the only option, but even then… electrical parts can be a little tricky to deal with, especially when it comes to reflashing a used PCM or BCM from the salvage yard on some models.

This is where some of those questions I’d like to ask these callers come into play. It seems some of these individuals are still under the impression that you just unbolt a part and stick another in like you could on those early electronic cars. I guess they think I wave some magic machine over the hood and all is right with the world again.

Just for my own sanity, I spend a lot of time on the phone educating the caller on the process of reflashing, diagnosing, and repairing their car… probably too much time actually. After all is said and done, the all mighty dollar usually turns out to be the bigger issue, and not the reprogramming for most of them.

With all these elaborate systems aging away on these older cars, it’s not uncommon to have shocked and frustrated customers at the counter. Especially after they pull up to the front door with a 12 year old car, and have HID headlamp problems and are thinking that it’s “just a bulb”. Or after diagnosing their failed wiper system their wiper switch has to be programmed to the car. When I inform them of the steps and the costs involved, the outcome is almost always the same. I already know from past experience just how frustrating all of this is to the owner, and I try my best to soften the blow. It doesn’t help much though, I’m still going to hear all about it, and I know they are not directing their frustration directly at me… but it’s still hard to deal with even after all these years.

I understand their predicament, believe me. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, either. I spent my younger years struggling along trying to move off of the lube rack myself. Low pay, a broken down dilapidated car, and no money are no stranger to me.

Let’s face it, business is business. It takes cash and plenty of it to keep a shop going from day to day. As much as I would like to help each and every one of them, I know it’s just not possible. I’ve known a few who have tried, but as a professional in the trade I know all too well that ya gotta keep the bays full of paying customers and not the ones that can’t.

The best thing I can think of doing is to refer those individuals to the numerous agencies in the area that offer assistance in these matters. I hope things improve for them, but for now, advice is all the help I can offer.