Under the Hood

I had to take my car to get it fixed the other day.  I know nothing about what makes a car go, but when I turned the key nothing happened except that I saw a crying emoji on the dashboard lights. 

I’m reasonably sure that’s bad.  

I’m not handy.  I can turn a $200 fix into a $5000 problem within minutes.  It’s one of my gifts. 

I’ve tried my best to learn about cars, but the area of your brain that controls auto mechanical knowledge, known as the hypocarburetor autozoneus never fully formed in my head.  In that space instead, is a cartoon diagram, seemingly drawn by a three year old with crayons, that shows how to put a gas nozzle in the fuel tank. 

I’ve taken my vehicles to Tate’s Automotive since I could drive.  That’s been, umm...a long time.  They’ve changed my oil, fixed my air, installed wiper blades, and repaired countless knocks and pings in every car that I’ve owned.  Donnie Tate is about the nicest and most honest guy you’ll ever meet.  He and his wife Darlene treat customers like friends and family. They’re good people.  Too often, people don't appreciate a good auto mechanic until they need them.  They should.  

Tate’s is one of the last remaining full service stations where they will pump your gas, clean your windshield, and check under the hood.  They also have enormous patience with customers, like me, who don’t know a fuel injector from a turkey baster.  I’m in awe of mechanics who can diagnose a problem quickly, though I try to fake my understanding of how a car runs when I talk to them.  A typical conversation goes something like this:

Me: “Engine is making a funny noise.  It might be that the modulator on the clip joint going to the flux capacitor is shot.  If it’s not that, it could also be the t-valve pump regulator that controls the hammer dulcimer.”

Mechanic:  “Chris, you just need a little air in your left tire.”

Or that.

I was fearing the worst on my car.  Donnie called me a few hours later to give me the verdict. Turns out, I had left the interior light on in my car and drained the battery.  He didn’t laugh at me, though it would have been okay if he did.  A dead battery is minor in the grand scheme of things.  I haven’t driven as much during the pandemic.  I am, however, getting ready for a short trip to the beach and I’m glad everything is running smoothly.  I’m thankful for good mechanics who are friends like the Tate’s. I appreciate them.

Because you can’t go anywhere when your hammer dulcimer on the fritz.