Monday, 22 February 2010

Clunk, Splutter, Hiss

I was just driving along, minding my own business when all of a sudden, the motor of the SUV didn't sound quite right. Frowning, I wondered how much skill it takes to stall the motor of an automatic. Just as I pulled up past the crosswalk to turn left at the lights, I saw smoke wafting around the front of the vehicle. My keen observation senses told me that there was nothing else nearby from which the smoke was likely to be emanating. And then I smelled something burning.

Not wanting to meet with my demise in an exploding SUV, much less with my little brother and his friend, I immediately turned off the ignition. No longer seeing smoke, I tried to turn the engine over again to see if the problem had fixed itself. Most of the issues in my life just go away if I ignore them long enough. Not a sound from the motor. Perhaps I was just too scared of turning into toast to really put my heart and soul into turning that key. At any rate, realizing that the middle of the left-hand turn lane of a fairly busy road was not the ideal place to be broken down, I switched on the hazards and dug out my cell. A quick jaunt around the vehicle revealed no obvious problems. It could have been worse. I had been about half a second away from actually entering the intersection when I stopped the car.

Soooo... I talked to Mom, assured her we weren't going to blow up sitting in the dead vehicle, and wondered why everybody would pull up right behind me and sit there for five minutes patiently, without honking, before noticing the hazards and steering around. We tried to call the church to get the youth pastor to come pick up my brother and his friend so that they wouldn't be hopelessly late for worship practice. Of course, the church office phone rang once and went to voicemail. So my brother's friend called his sister, decided she was no help, then called his brother to look up the youth pastor's cell number in the church directory.

And so my bro lugged the guitar out of the SUV and they trooped across the street to be picked up while I continued lounging in the middle of the road, waiting for Dad to get out the bath and come see what was wrong. Still nobody seemed to notice the hazard lights but lined up patiently behind me, despite my attempts to wave them by.

Eventually Dad arrived, hopped into the driver's seat, managed to turn on the motor and drive it around the corner. He popped the hood, took a look inside, then scurried back inside to shut it down. Apparently flying sparks are not a good sign.

But I still had to get to the church to lead a Bible study. Luckily, my co-leader drove by just then, wondering why I was standing at the side of the road. She had not received a notice about a change of location for the night's event, so she stopped to see what was going on and I hopped into her car. We drove off, leaving my dad with the problem. Like I said - most of my issues fix themselves if I just stay out of it. And after all, isn't that what dads are for? ;-D

Apparently it had something to do with the air conditioning. I should really find out the rest of the story some time.

“One only needs two tools in life: WD-40 to make things go, and duct tape to make them stop.” G. Weilacher


Anonymous said...

Oh, just the way you tell stories makes me chuckle. I guess vehicle breakdowns aren't often in the habit of being convenient...


art said...

I suppose this saga continues to this day. The air-conditioning compressor went so it needs to be replaced. Apparently, it is quite expensive to fix. Groan. The joys of vehicle ownership.