I was sitting and enjoying the weather, a perfect 76 degrees with a light breeze. I was lost in the middle area of another book, Dragonwing this time, almost oblivious to the world around me.
"Your car is ready."
I looked up from my book. I was in the waiting area at my local mechanic; the windows and door were open to take advantage of the nice weather. A warm breeze wafted through, I suddenly wished that I was still lost in my book. I walked up to the window
"That will be $246.52."
I must have made a face because the lady behind the counter looked apologetic and said something to the effect of "Yeah, I know it adds up quick."
I experienced a mild sense of deja vu. Or maybe I was just overwhelmed by a sudden resurgence of memories. In either case this scene seemed to have reoccurred quite frequently over the last few months. This time it was tires and an oil change. Last time it was a new manifold for the exhaust system. The time before that one of the rear calipers decided it had had enough of my shit and ate through the break pads before moving on to the rotor, which made a lovely grinding noise, like a slab of granite was stuck in the wheel-well, for about a week before I could afford to get it fixed. I blamed the other rear caliper for being a bad influence, as it had screwed up only a few months previous.
To be fair our car, a Nissan Altima, serves us (my wife and I) well but it does seem to be about time for a few parts to be wearing out. The car is approaching 200,000 miles and runs like the day we bought it, but some of the other work-horse parts are starting to be phased out at this point. This year it just so happens that there is a bit of a queue forming. If the trend continues we should have 1/3 of a new car by 2016.
Back in the office of my mechanic I stared at the red number at the bottom of the invoice and punched in my debit pin a moment later, my lips a grim line. I still need the bearings in one of the wheels looked at, though whoever did the paperwork last time forgot to write down which one. I've also got a half dozen other big expenses due before the snow hits the ground a few months from now. I try not to think to hard about it, because somehow we always find a way to make things work and I haven't had to sell any organs yet, mine or otherwise. So there's that.
The bill was stamped paid and I folded it neatly in three parts. I'll be tossing it in the glove box in a moment, as part of a service record history in case we ever sell the car (even though we probably never will). Meanwhile I fantasized about being able to work on the Altima myself, and occasionally taking a break by laying on the pile of money I was saving by doing my own work.
I certainly feel I have the aptitude to do my own work. I have the trouble-shooting skills from working on computers for years, and I'm apparently competent enough that I managed to get a certification in computer repair, not that I've put it to use yet. So given enough time I'm sure I could learn my way around an engine. I can see myself leaning over an engine, covered in grease and dripping sweat into the organized jumble of parts beneath the hood. I've got my hand snaked down into the engine as I try and prize loose a corroded bolt, my muscles straining. Essentially, the complete opposite of computer repair; since your goal is to vehemently avoid dripping sweat on anything, any sign of grease is a cause for concern if not outright panic, and using much more than a golf putt's worth of pressure is a sign that you're about break something (unless you're installing a heatsink in which case the corroded bolt scenario still applies).
However, I digress. That won't be happening any time soon, and I highly doubt at all. Learning to work on cars now would mean acquiring tools, dozens of hours of learning (in my experience about half that time is spent staring at something half taken apart with a mixture of despair and grim determination), and I'd still end up paying a good chunk of change for the actual parts. Better that I just stick to what I know, computers, and let the mechanics do their thing. Maybe someday I'll pick up enough mechanic's skills and tools to keep the basics of my car in order. For now though I'll have the satisfaction of keeping my computer running and the minor admiration that comes from the non-tech-savvy, who seem to regard anything relating to computers in the same way most people regard calculus problems, or snakes, or a calculus assignment tied to a snake.
I latched the glovebox shut and started up the car. It was still 76 degrees out, a perfect day by most people's standards. I cranked my music and rolled down the windows as I pulled out of the lot. The car felt good. It's probably just in my head but the car always feels a little better when I leave. The new tires I had just bought felt like they stuck to the road better. The difference is usually subtle and I sometimes wonder if it's worth shelling out hundreds of dollars for. I need this thing to keep running though, the Altima isn't even paid off yet, though it's nearing that point. Still, the drive home is nice. I guess it's worth it.
At least that's what I'd like to say. There's got to be some point of equilibrium in which the concern over the money spent is canceled out by the peace of mind brought about by vehicle reliability. Right now the expense versus reliability scale is still skewed enough that it caused me to forget what page I was on. Clearly an unacceptable level.
"Your car is ready."
I looked up from my book. I was in the waiting area at my local mechanic; the windows and door were open to take advantage of the nice weather. A warm breeze wafted through, I suddenly wished that I was still lost in my book. I walked up to the window
"That will be $246.52."
I must have made a face because the lady behind the counter looked apologetic and said something to the effect of "Yeah, I know it adds up quick."
I experienced a mild sense of deja vu. Or maybe I was just overwhelmed by a sudden resurgence of memories. In either case this scene seemed to have reoccurred quite frequently over the last few months. This time it was tires and an oil change. Last time it was a new manifold for the exhaust system. The time before that one of the rear calipers decided it had had enough of my shit and ate through the break pads before moving on to the rotor, which made a lovely grinding noise, like a slab of granite was stuck in the wheel-well, for about a week before I could afford to get it fixed. I blamed the other rear caliper for being a bad influence, as it had screwed up only a few months previous.
To be fair our car, a Nissan Altima, serves us (my wife and I) well but it does seem to be about time for a few parts to be wearing out. The car is approaching 200,000 miles and runs like the day we bought it, but some of the other work-horse parts are starting to be phased out at this point. This year it just so happens that there is a bit of a queue forming. If the trend continues we should have 1/3 of a new car by 2016.
Back in the office of my mechanic I stared at the red number at the bottom of the invoice and punched in my debit pin a moment later, my lips a grim line. I still need the bearings in one of the wheels looked at, though whoever did the paperwork last time forgot to write down which one. I've also got a half dozen other big expenses due before the snow hits the ground a few months from now. I try not to think to hard about it, because somehow we always find a way to make things work and I haven't had to sell any organs yet, mine or otherwise. So there's that.
The bill was stamped paid and I folded it neatly in three parts. I'll be tossing it in the glove box in a moment, as part of a service record history in case we ever sell the car (even though we probably never will). Meanwhile I fantasized about being able to work on the Altima myself, and occasionally taking a break by laying on the pile of money I was saving by doing my own work.
I certainly feel I have the aptitude to do my own work. I have the trouble-shooting skills from working on computers for years, and I'm apparently competent enough that I managed to get a certification in computer repair, not that I've put it to use yet. So given enough time I'm sure I could learn my way around an engine. I can see myself leaning over an engine, covered in grease and dripping sweat into the organized jumble of parts beneath the hood. I've got my hand snaked down into the engine as I try and prize loose a corroded bolt, my muscles straining. Essentially, the complete opposite of computer repair; since your goal is to vehemently avoid dripping sweat on anything, any sign of grease is a cause for concern if not outright panic, and using much more than a golf putt's worth of pressure is a sign that you're about break something (unless you're installing a heatsink in which case the corroded bolt scenario still applies).
However, I digress. That won't be happening any time soon, and I highly doubt at all. Learning to work on cars now would mean acquiring tools, dozens of hours of learning (in my experience about half that time is spent staring at something half taken apart with a mixture of despair and grim determination), and I'd still end up paying a good chunk of change for the actual parts. Better that I just stick to what I know, computers, and let the mechanics do their thing. Maybe someday I'll pick up enough mechanic's skills and tools to keep the basics of my car in order. For now though I'll have the satisfaction of keeping my computer running and the minor admiration that comes from the non-tech-savvy, who seem to regard anything relating to computers in the same way most people regard calculus problems, or snakes, or a calculus assignment tied to a snake.
I latched the glovebox shut and started up the car. It was still 76 degrees out, a perfect day by most people's standards. I cranked my music and rolled down the windows as I pulled out of the lot. The car felt good. It's probably just in my head but the car always feels a little better when I leave. The new tires I had just bought felt like they stuck to the road better. The difference is usually subtle and I sometimes wonder if it's worth shelling out hundreds of dollars for. I need this thing to keep running though, the Altima isn't even paid off yet, though it's nearing that point. Still, the drive home is nice. I guess it's worth it.
At least that's what I'd like to say. There's got to be some point of equilibrium in which the concern over the money spent is canceled out by the peace of mind brought about by vehicle reliability. Right now the expense versus reliability scale is still skewed enough that it caused me to forget what page I was on. Clearly an unacceptable level.
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