My grandfather used to say (for real, this time) that he’d “take that car to California” to express his faith in the reliability of a vehicle. (And given that the distance involved from where he lived was around 1500 miles, this was no small expression of confidence.)
I still say this for the same reason.
Yes, I was feeling pretty proud of myself the other day. This lasted right up until the following day when I went to get something from the car and it wouldn’t unlock.
Sighing heavily, I began to prepare myself to deal with what it could mean if the battery I had just tested and installed the other day was dead already, when I noticed the car’s security system (which, of course, requires power) was still active.
Turns out the battery in my key fob (which had worked the day before) had died.
It’s not like I’m unfamiliar with how quickly Nature can reclaim something. For instance, I saw what happened to my grandparent’s house after it became abandoned (or more accurately, I didn’t see it thanks to all the trees), but I’m frankly amazed at how much Nature seems to want to reclaim my car.
Today I swear that I’m actually resting and healing, but yesterday I became intimately familiar with why it’s standard to charge an hour’s worth of labor to replace the battery in the particular model of car we have here.
If you’re going to be exclusively staying at home for prolonged periods of time, remember to go out and start your car now and then if you don’t want to find out the hard way your battery is dead.
In the words of Freakazoid, “That was important, and I forgot it!”
After taking the car in yesterday, one of the headlights literally burnt out as L’s Mother was on her way to work early this morning. Once I was informed of this, I started refreshing my memory on how difficult it was to change the headlight on our particular model of car.
Funny I don’t remember off the top of my head, I thought to myself. Usually I prefer to do relatively simple things like this myself, but I don’t think I’ve ever changed a headlight on this car. I wonder why?
“The first step,” the instructional video told me, “is to remove the tire so you can pop off the front fender . . .”
Annnnnnd that would be why!
Person #1: You be careful if you take your vehicle to him to work on. If all he has to do is wipe some oil off your engine, he’s still going to charge you because it costs money to launder the oil off that rag.
Person #2: He’s right. I will because it does, but . . . if I don’t wipe enough oil off the first time, I’ll comp you the cost of the second rag.
Today I got the news that my mother’s beloved car, the car she promised to keep until one of them was dead and/or beyond all practical repair, has finally reached that point.
So this candle is for “Black Beauty” for all her years of faithful service, and in the hope that she enjoys her arranged retirement with the person able to devote the profoundly impractical amount of time and money she now requires.
“She gives off strange smells and makes funny noises, and it’s getting so that I don’t like taking her out at all anymore.”
– My mother (describing her car)
Candles & Curses 