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Close to Nowhere By Linda Jones Car troubles and woes It’s my own fault. For years, especially the last couple, I’ve bragged on my car -- never had a minute’s trouble with it! I was just asking for it! Recently I had to have the starter replaced. Not too bad a problem, only a couple hours in the shop. Then, the last time I had my oil changed, my car had a “trouble.” Mind
you, even after living 40-plus years with a top-notch mechanic, I have
no idea what goes on in an engine -- but when the guy who changes my
oil said that my front oil seal was leaking pretty badly and I needed
to get it fixed, I was pretty sure that was gonna be serious -- by that
I mean expensive. By happy coincidence, a new,
wonderful mechanic has moved into town. By even happier coincidence, he
used to be a rodeo rider and, more importantly, at least to me, a
Toyota mechanic. My Toyota was made in America.
Pop’s Ford Escort was made in Japan. So, why do most garages favor the
Ford over the Toyota? I suspect it has something to do with the metric
system (I think that’s a joke, but it might not be). Tuesday
morning, as I write this, my car is in the shop getting its front oil
seal replaced and all the leaky, nasty oil washed off the engine, etc. And,
I’ve been driving Pop’s Ford Escort. Pop loves this car. Orginally my
brother’s car, Pop has coddled and pampered this car for probably 10
years now. In fact, next time the Ford gets a new license plate, we can
get an antique car plate. Wow! It’s very strange
going from one car to another. Habits are almost impossible to ignore.
I’ve tried to open Pop’s door with my clicker every time I walk out to
it. I’ve tried to start the Ford with the Toyota key. The
dashlights don’t work on the Ford, so at night you have to either guess
what speed you’re driving, or, use the flashlight-type “thing” Pop
keeps in the console. Monday night, I finally opted for the flashlight
thing. I tend to have a lead foot and Hwy. 7 is a regular route for the
state highway patrol. The worst problem I have
with the Ford though is the headlights. My car has lights that are on
all the time. Turn on the car, the lights come on, day or night. Turn
off the car and the lights go off. For many
years, while McClatchy’s hardware store was across the street from the
paper, Stanley would come and tell me that I’d left Pop’s headlights on
-- again. Stanley and the hardware store have moved. I’ve had to remember on my own. Not pretty! (37 days to Christmas!)
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