GOD BLESS OUR MEN IN UNIFORM! (Part I) Like many Americans, I’m often negligent in my praise for the men in blue who stand between each of us and walking. I’d like to take a moment here to thank the brave men at Professional Auto Care in Whiteland, Indiana for their service in time of need! My immediate family roots and up-bringing was varied. My father, a very good man in his own right, could perform mathematical calculations quickly and accurately. My mother played classical piano, was a licensed Registered Nurse and a militant grammar-Nazi with a seemingly limitless vocabulary and command of the English language. On the other hand, while my father could tell you all you’d care to know about the global oil market, refinement processes that produce gasoline, and the geo-political impact of legislation on the energy market, he has never really understood the “gas+spark+air makes car go” concepts associated with the internal combustion engine, and my mother would often finish the last several minutes of whatever piece she was playing, while dinner in the oven transformed from “done” to “over-done” to “What did this used to be?“ They had their strengths and their weaknesses, is what I’m saying… The point of all that background information is to explain why my skills in auto mechanics are somewhat limited. Both my sister and I are adopted, and both of us have a far greater interest in mechanics than either of parents possessed. (I‘m proud to say my sister is actually very proficient! I‘ve seen her touch a screw-driver to a running engine and the other end to her ear, and diagnose which cylinder was not firing properly and why.) We can have the “nature versus nurture” discussion all day long, but the truth in my experience is that we each do have a predisposition to one half of the world or the other. Those born into a family commensurate with their predisposition learn and perfect their skills along those lines. Those of us raised in a cross-culture, if you will, learn a little from each and try to blend both sets of parts into one. “Jack of all trades… Master of none” kind of thing. Everything I’ve learned about auto mechanics has been through stubbornly refusing to believe I couldn’t understand it. (Maybe in his youth my father shared this sentiment, and just gave up somewhere along the way. But I have seen the man attempt to work with a simple wrench before, and the evidence does suggest otherwise.) Unlike my sister, I never really sought out the opportunities to learn more about auto mechanics, but I’ve never backed down from the challenges when they present themselves, and I’ve learned what I do know along the way… each new experience expanding my skill set. My wife drives a Hyundai Elantra… one of those smaller cars with way too many moving parts and sensors and other mysterious gizmos. Late Sunday afternoon, she came in the house and told me that her brake lights would not turn off… she thought. “But I can’t really tell… It might just be the reflection from the sun.” So we agreed to go out and check in an hour or so when the sun had gone down a bit… and then we promptly forgot about it until Monday morning when we found that, “Yes, the lights had stayed on“, and “Yes that does drain the battery… completely, if you wait long enough”. The plan called for taking her battery down to Advance Auto, and having them scare a charge back into it. (We’ve done this before… many times… with dead batteries, so we know the routine.) Unfortunately, a big part of that plan included driving my truck… which hadn’t been started since sometime last December, largely because for most of that time, the truck was sufficiently buried in snow that “getting out” was a laughable idea, and we’d just not had need to drive it in these last couple weeks of above freezing temperatures. It too, was dead. I called the middle son, Luke, and he agreed to stop by in exchange for a more prominent mention in our will to see what he could do to help. My original plan was to have him run the dead batteries up to Advance and leave them to be charged. (Since he was on his way to work, that left me without a plan to get them back, but I figured I’d think of something.) Luke arrived and said he had a little time… maybe we should try jump-starting the truck? So I put the battery back in the truck, we attached the cables and let it go. After a few minutes, I tried the truck. It cranked, but barely. We decided we just needed more time, so we just stood around and visited while his car continued to charge my battery. After another few minutes, I hopped in the truck and tried again. It WANTED to start. It TRIED HARD to start. It groaned with effort, and I thought “C’mon baby! Don’t let me down!”, and cranked it again… which is when Luke noticed the smoke coming from his car. “Uh, Mike… Problem here.” I got out of the truck. Luke had already pulled off the cables, but the cloud of smoke still hung in the air. “I don’t think this is going to work,” Luke said. And I agreed. One of the first things you learn in auto mechanics, whether its changing a tire or jumping a battery is that smoke is not a good sign. “What the Heck?,” I said, because I was puzzled and confused. “Maybe it’s a new Pope,” said Luke, because the smoke was white and Luke is a smart-ass. “Maybe,” I said. “But I’m going with ‘something is wrong’.” “Gee, do you think so?,” Luke asked, reinforcing my earlier assessment of his character. By this point, we’d run out of time. Fortunately, Jordan would be coming by in a couple hours, on his way home from work. Luke called his younger brother, and after some negotiation regarding the distribution of my property after I’m gone, Jordan agreed to stop by and see what he could contribute. So at this point, I pulled the battery again, thanked Luke for his time and set to wait on Jordan, who arrived a few hours later. Unfortunately, by the time Jordan got there, any idea of just dropping the batteries off at Advance was unworkable. There just wasn’t time to charge them and get them back. Jordan suggested we try jumping again because… well, we were pretty much out of options. So Iwent back to the garage to get my battery, which is when I noticed a third battery identical to the one from my truck setting off to the side, and realized that maybe… just MAYBE… I’d put the wrong battery back in when Luke and I tried to jump the truck the first time. (I knew this third battery was weak, but I kept it around to start my mower and other yard work machines that required far lower amps of cranking power.) On a hunch… and based on my familiarity with my own stupidity… I put this other battery in the truck. Jordan hooked up the cables and… Vroom! The truck started almost instantly! And best of all, without smoke! I didn’t want to admit the battery swap problem… (and I’m kind of hoping neither of them reads this post)… so I was exuberant in my thanks to Jordan. “Wow,” I said. “That’s great!” Thanks!” “Clean living!,” said Jordan. “I just hope maybe this has taught you a little something…“ (I honestly don’t know for sure where they get this smart-aleck attitude,…, but personally I blame their mother!) So anyway, I now have one vehicle running. Jordan agreed to drop off the other two batteries at Advance on his way home, and Judy would pick them up on her way home from work. All is well! Except that at this point, Judy’s brake lights STILL wouldn’t turn off… and how I fixed THAT was the whole premise for this story…, so I’ll have to explain THAT little descent into madness tomorrow.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Mar 2014 02:08:08 +0000