(A Crash Course)
I gave up most auto repair jobs years ago, limiting myself to changing the oil to save a few bucks, but even that didn’t work. Sure, I’d save 50 cents a quart on the oil, but getting the old out and the new in usually cost me plenty in cleaning bills and replacement clothes. And there was the incident of the size 12 black footprints on the new living room carpet. I almost had to sleep in the dog house with Oscar that night.
After one of my failed attempts at “minor” repairs, I’d bring the old Dodge to the local gas station and get the usual lecture from Benny about my botched efforts and how he’d never try to write a newspaper article and I should never imagine I could tune an engine or even change the wiper blades.
“Benny, there’s got to be some simple car problems I can take care of.” I’d plead, and he’d reply, “I don’t want to get you into deeper, more expensive trouble by saying the wrong thing now. You might do a lot of big bucks damage and I’d feel responsible.”
“Well, Benny, what’s the simplest, safest recommendation you’d give to a guy with my limited mechanical talent?”
“You could rotate the tires.”
“Please be realistic, Benny. My tires rotate every time I step on the gas!”
He looked at me a little strangely, sighed and said, “With a little training, you just might learn how to change the plugs.”
“Okay, Benny, but I’ll need a few pointers. Where are the plugs and do I have to be quick about it? When I remove an old plug, what will leak out? I hope it isn’t oil.”
That seemed to really upset Benny and he started shouting. Something about leaving everything to the professionals and restricting myself to the one job the car designers had in mind for me, “Watching the idiot lights.”
Imagine That 