Gonzo

2012 turned a corner, it was better than 2011 but not near the numbers from about 10 years ago. Still it is on the rise and I expect "Lucky 13" to be a banner year. I'm seeing more older cars, and less newer cars. I can only account that to the quality of today's cars vs. say cars built 10 or 20 years ago. That doesn't mean I'm not seeing 2009, 2010 etc.. I am, but their numbers are few. Right now I would say the average age of a car in for repair would be about 2005, 2006. The average older vehicle would be 1997,1998. With a sprinkle of 60's and 70's restoration projects in the mix. All and all, the direction and abilities of the mechanic is changing as well as the cars. The so called "shortage" of techs has been and always will be there. For those of us sticking it out it's going to be a fun year. Lucky 13 it is...

My whole thought process centered around the fact that the "Customer isn't always right" How this guy was stuck on the idea that it was fuel related had to have been from some previous vehicle problem or something someone told him. I figured I would fix it in my own hard headed way.... you know... "do it my way" I did... and lucky me...it paid off. Taking a gamble that it would stay gone for a month was a big risk. But, I did make an extra hundred bucks.

I'll Bet Ya! A passenger bus arrived at the shop one afternoon that was used for transporting people back and forth from hospitals, assisted living homes and weekend outings for the elderly. It was seldom idle, and the owner wasn't your typical owner/driver, he was a very quick to judge, no B.S., overly self-confident, brash and even more hard headed than me kind of guy. The van had a terrible smell emanating from cabin, which the owner had made it a point to tell everyone that looked at it that it was a fuel related problem. Nothing was ever found wrong with the fuel system; however his insistent nature that something was wrong with the fuel system was really rubbing everyone involved the wrong way. I could see why after meeting this guy for the first time. He wasn't one to take no for answer or listen to any criticism, without a doubt he was the most overbearing, and demanding person I have ever met. Now I'm stuck with this putrid smelling van and this overzealous owner at my shop. (Sometimes I think when other shops give up on things or the customer is too demanding... they mention my name... gee...thanks.) The odor wasn't sulfur or raw fuel in my opinion. It smelled more like an old high school gym locker to me. All the previous attempts at other shops never found anything wrong with fuel lines, tank, or any venting problems with the fuel emission systems. It seemed either everyone was overlooking something or I was as baffled as they were. Then again, it might have been the owner's attitude that was making the decisions and not the results of any diagnostic work. My first walk through of the van was enough to make you gag. The smell was horrendous it seemed to be coming from everywhere. Outside the van there was only a trace of the odor, but inside... oh man... it was unbearable. The owner was still convinced that it was fuel related, so much so that he wanted the entire fuel system ripped out and replaced. I wasn't convinced, I was on a mission to find the source before going to the extent of removing "all" the fuel system in this big van. After a few basic checks and a bit of snooping around my conclusion was that the smell was coming from the carpet itself and from the large air conditioning unit mounted in the back of the bus. My suggestion was to have the carpet thoroughly cleaned and disinfected as well as the vents for the air conditioning system. To my surprise I got a stern reprimand from the owner, "You'll do what I tell you to do and not tell me what you think it is!" Seriously? You don't want to take a simple approach to the problem but would rather jump right into a huge repair job? I'm not in any way convinced replacing the entire fuel system will solve the problem. "You want me to drop the fuel tank, filter, pump, lines, and injectors and replace all of it?" I asked. "Yes, that's what I want... no...,that's what I insist you do!" he said sternly. I did my best to talk him out of it, but he was stuck on this idea that this would fix his problem. But, maybe there's another way of talking him out of this, maybe if I add up all the parts and labor to do what he's suggesting maybe it will convince him to try something else. To my surprise, it didn't. He's still convinced. I'm going to try another approach to this stinking mess then. There's one thing that I've found out over the many years of dealing with people and their vehicles, if the amount of the repair hasn't scared them off, somebody has already given them an even higher price. So you're either stuck doing what you estimated it as, or find a way to solve the problem without them knowing what you're actually going to do. This time, I'm taking the chance that I'm right and he's wrong and have the van cleaned first. "Ok, leave it with me; it might take a few days. I'll find the source of the problem. As long as you're willing to put that kind of expense out I'll remove the odor one way or another," I told him. He agreed and with that he left the van. Before he even drove off I picked up the phone and called a good friend of mine that owns a carpet cleaning business. I might save this hard headed owner a lot of cash, grief and down time if I'm right. Maybe even win over a new customer to boot. "Hey, bud can you bring your big machine over here and do a little job for me?" I said to my carpet cleaning friend. "Sure tomorrow morning," he told me. The next day his crew arrived and gave the entire interior a super cleaning, windows, trim, seats, carpet, vents, the works. "I'd leave the windows open for a day to let it dry out. But, I think you were right about the smell coming from the carpets. After years of cleaning stuff like this you know when you're lifting the smell out. This was no exception," my buddy told me as he packed his things up for the next job. The interior sparkled like new, smelled fresh as spring meadow; even the air conditioning didn't have that horrible odor in it. I'm convinced... problem solved. Now to break the news to the customer. He was quite skeptical, so it took a bit of unorthodox convincing. "I'll tell you what I'll do," I proceeded to tell him, "I'll bet you if you drive it around for a month or so, run a few tanks of gas through it, and make a couple of long trips the smell will stay gone. After a month you bring it back here and the two of us are going to inspect it. If the smell is still there... I'll give you back your money and do what you originally suggested. If the smell is gone... you owe me an extra hundred bucks." He took the bet, and a month later...He made good on the wager. I thought I'd never see the day this guy would smile, but having that odor out of his van put a grin on his face from ear to ear. He proudly walked up to me with that big grin, swung his hand down for a firm handshake and handed me that crisp new hundred dollar. Seems I've made a new friend for life. Several years have passed since then and he still brings a lot of work to the shop and never misses a chance to refer me to everyone he meets. Oh, he's still stubborn, head strong and quite brash... but a good guy none the less. His story of the stinky van and how an even harder headed mechanic stood up to him is still one of his favorites. As he likes to tell me,"Sometimes, the customer isn't right after all." View full article

Did ya ever notice... when the explanation is long the problem is small and vise versa?

Nothing like having a teenager in the house... lol

Experts Among Us Recently I had a problem with my home laptop where everything worked correctly, except for internet access. The only way to get on was to continuously disconnect and reconnect, especially if I was switching pages. Very frustrating, to say the least. On the evening before it had gone bonkers, I finished an article that I was going to upload Saturday morning. What normally takes me a few minutes took me hours. Talk about a long morning. Eventually I did get it uploaded, and then spent the rest of my morning trying to solve the problem myself. First check for a virus, reboot the system, rerun the virus protection... over and over again. Then, as most parents with teenagers will do... I called the kid over. Mitch (my son) worked on it for a bit and got it to working temporarily,but he did tell me, "Dad, it's going to come back. It's "self-generating", and I'm not sure it's a virus. You're going to have problems until you can find out what it is." He was right about that. The very next morning when I turned it on it was back to its old tricks. There wasn't much else to do except send it to the computer shop for repair. If it was a car I could probably tell you what to do with it, but not this. It's beyond me. In the mean time I went on with the rest of the weekend and left the computer alone. We had plans to see a few friends for lunch that afternoon, and as casual conversations go I was soon explaining my frustrations with my computer. Everybody had a solution to the problem, and I'll have to admit some of their solutions sounded pretty convincing, but after being in the repair business as long as I have, I knew better. At least the best advice given was where to take it. I knew seeking professional help would be better than all of this arm chair diagnosing. I hear the same kind of thing when I'm behind my counter. Someone will come in with a problem and sure enough they have already talked to a friend or relative who has the ultimate answer to their problem. And, of course, I'm supposed to use that information and make the needed repairs. Because… well… you know why…their friend is an "expert". I'll admit once in a while they've got it right, but more times than not it's"control-alt-delete", and start all over with the original symptom. Too many times the symptoms and the arm chair expert aren't on the same page. I'm sure when I take the laptop in it will be the same story there as well. So I'm going to approach this laptop debacle with as much care as I can, and see if informing the person behind the counter the symptoms I've found, and answer his questions as best as I can, and not add my own two cents worth of arm chair diagnosing. "Hi, can I help you?" the guy behind the counter said. "You sure can. I'm having a problem getting on the internet with my laptop. Could you check it out for me?" He informed me of the initial examination fee and what he was going to do. He said he would call as soon as he knew something. Now with what limited knowledge I have, and from what my son could figure out, along with all the input from friends and other arm chair techs it appeared to be a cut and dry "remove a virus" and all would be well. Now that the expert has it we'll find out soon enough. The next day I got the call from the computer repair shop. "Well, there's nothing wrong with your laptop, sir. It doesn't have any viruses, and it looks like someone has recently cleaned up the hard drive," the repair guy tells me. "Really, hmm, so what's the reason I couldn't get on. My son did a bunch of clean up stuff before we brought it down to you, but even then it wouldn't get on line," I said. "Chances are it's your server or your router acting up. I'd take it back home and hook it up directly to your server and bypass the wireless router. Then see what it does." I paid the man for his time, even though I was somewhat skeptical of his results. Probably no more than some customers are when they leave my shop after I tell them what's wrong with their car. But, I'll take the experts' advice and do as I was told. When I got home both the wife and my son had their laptops out and were pluggin' away on the internet. I might as well try mine before proceeding with the repairman's instructions. Sure enough it still had problems getting on the internet. "Mitch, let's try what the guy said to do," I told my son. We disconnected the wireless (after mom got to a stopping point with what she was working on) and hooked his laptop up direct, and as expected it worked just fine. Then it was my turn, sure enough it worked perfectly. Turns out the guy was right. It was some sort of glitch in the wireless router. I did call down to the repair shop to tell him the results. He wasn't surprised;he knew… he's the expert. He went on to tell me, "Since all the other laptops are working, and it's just yours my guess is the configuration between the two is not compatible. Put your son on the phone, and I'll walk him through how to check the configuration on both laptops and router." (A true expert knows who to talk to.) All said and done with, a new wireless router solved the problem. So what did I learn from all of this? That expert advice is far more reliable than arm chair diagnosing. You may think you know what's wrong, but an expert in the field will most certainly have a better idea of what to do than yourself. Telling the technician what the symptoms were without adding, "I think it's this" or "My friend who works on computers told me it's this" really added to a quicker solution in my opinion. I wish this happened more often at my service counter. (But I won't get my hopes up.) Everyone has somebody who's experienced a similar car problem, and will usually add their own "expertise" to the conversation. Occasionally while I'm at a restaurant, a ball game, church, or a school event I'll catch a conversation about a car problem from the next table or from a group sitting close by. Sure enough someone will have an opinion of what's wrong. That's all fine and dandy... but let's keep that for friendly conversation and not part of the explanation to the expert. Granted,there's some so called "experts" in every field that aren't experts. It's bound to happen that you'll run into one. To find a reputable shop, ask your friends, your relatives, etc... Their opinions do matter, just not when it comes to being an expert, unless they are one themselves. View full article

unBElievable.

I'll save a cold one for ya Joe... LOL

Thanks Frank

Not that I'm surprised... at all. I add this to the continual efforts to apply the idea of "Right To Repair" to the independent side of the business. As I've seen in the past, every effort of the aftermarket to gain more info. or "re manufacturer" components, whether it's an oil filter or a water pump. There has always been some effort on the part of the manufacturer to make it tougher to get into their pocket. Telematics sounds like, is going to be, and no doubt will be the future of automotive repair. It also has some behind the scenes issues of controlling vehicles after the sale... (Ok, I don't know that... I'm being paranoid I guess) Here's the thing, as we keep moving into a complete computer age the manufacturer is going to find even more ways of watching their product after the sale. If, as an independent, we have full access... well...how much of that is true? How much of it could be still hidden or fall under the category of "Manufacturer Only". So what do you think the manufacturers could do to maintain some level of awareness of their products? Hmmm, monitor the car by GPS? See how many miles people keep their car? See what the public that does not keep up with maintenance and what do they avoid doing... and not by some guy with a clip board writing all this down while standing on a street corner? Could be... watch the cars by satellite. Could be... could be nothing at all. Just some open thoughts on the matter... Although, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing how this Telematics is going to work on the open road with independent shops. Could be pretty cool.

This was his regular method of paying for questions (not repairs of course) but I could count on a few cold ones before he would leave. He always brought something by anytime he showed up. LOL

Pilsner Payment When I first started out I had a small 2 bay shop in a strip center with a large parking lot in the middle of it. All the buildings and garage entrances faced the parking lot. My space was small, not a whole lot of room for car doors to open in the service bay, but I managed to make it work. Across the parking lot was a larger shop area that bought and sold vintage cars. The owner used the service bay area as his showroom so during regular business hours the doors would be up and the inside of the shop sparkled as much as the cars. He had a young guy working for him who would do minor repairs, buff the cars, change a carburetor, you know… stuff like that. He definitely didn't have any formal training in automotive repair, but was handy enough to keep the repair costs down for the owner, and he wasn't afraid of tackling any kind of repair.The big issue was that any repair work had to be done after they closed for the day or at least on a day he wasn't expecting any customers. That way none of the mess from spilled fluids, air hoses, etc…, was around while trying to show the cars. On one occasion they had an old Ford pickup truck that needed a new automatic transmission. From my vantage point across the parking lot I could watch the proceedings as if it was a live stage show. This was one of those days and jobs that the owner wanted done as quick as possible so he had his helper start on it even though it was during regular hours. Being the meticulous shop keep that he was he had several pieces of cardboard to protect the floor, a mop bucket handy, several rags, and a whole lot of attention into keeping any grease or grime away from all the other cars. The helper started off well, he put the car up on stands and began to remove the transmission. I'm pretty sure he didn't have a manual or any background in removing one before, but like I said, he'd try any kind of repair. As the day progressed I would occasionally glance out my bay door to see how things were going over there. It was closing time for me, and when I looked over there I notice he finally had the new transmission in. I heard the engine start up, then rev. up, then stop, and then restart. He would look under the hood, pull the dipstick out of the transmission, shake his head, throw his arms in the air and try it again,but the truck never moved an inch. By now my curiosity was more than slightly aroused. I wasn't in a hurry to get home that night because I had a buddy of mine coming over to the shop that evening. So instead I thought I'd leave my garage door up, find my mechanics stool, sit myself down with an after work refreshment and watch the show. Just about then my bud showed up. He grabbed another roll-around stool, made his way to the shop fridge and then joined me for the evening's entertainment. The sun had gone down more than an hour earlier and the light from the drop lights gave off an eerie glow from under the car. As he would crawl around the light would shine in different directions making for a really cool light show. If we kept quiet you could hear everything they said from the other side of the parking lot. I'll have to admit… as a technician it was quite comical to watch and listen to how a novice came up with their own solutions to the problem. The owner kept himself busy off to the side wiping down the other cars. He wasn't the kind of guy that ever got upset about anything, he patiently waited while making the best use of his time doing odd chores, adjusting the sales placards on the windshields, and cleaning up around his helper. My buddy on the other hand kept asking me what I thought was wrong. "Oh, I know what it is," I told him in a whisper, "Just hold on and watch a little longer. Give the guy a chance to figure it out." Another hour or so went by; the brews were all but gone. My anxious buddy still wanted to know what I thought was wrong. So I clued him in on how this whole debacle started. I began the tale with; He drove the truck in, jacked it up, and pulled the transmission. "Yea, yea… OK, but what's the problem?" he asked. I went on, "Then he put the new transmission in." "You're not telling me anything I don't already know!" my brewskie buddy sternly informed me. "Alright, I'll tell you what's wrong with it. Now quit bugging me… and watch the show," I said rather… ahem…a little too loud. That's when the helper perked up and headed in my direction. You could tell he had about all he could take trying to figure out what was wrong with the truck. As he got close to us he said, "You got some idea what's wrong?" "Yea, I do." "So, help a guy out. What's wrong with it?" "Here's what I think ya did. When you stabbed the transmission you didn't push the converter back into the transmission all the way or you didn't have the pump splines lined up. Because I think you broke the front pump in the new transmission." By now the owner had walked across and heard the whole conversation. "Can you fix it?" he asked me. "Sure, we'll push it over in the morning." The next morning I replaced the pump and drove the truck back over to his shop. After that, the owner made it a habit to walk over with a cold one and asked me questions about car problems before he let his helper tackle it. After a while the shop fridge was getting pretty full of those after hours brews. Eventually I moved to a bigger shop. The car lot owner didn't make it by as often, but when he did his method of payment never changed. My buddy on the other hand, got to be a regular at my shop, especially if I told him the guy across the street stopped by for more repair information. I guess he liked the entertainment too. What a minute… come to think of it… it may not have been the entertainment at all… he might have just shown up for those free beers. What a pal…. View full article

I'm right behind ya Joe. LOL

As one guy told me, "I'm not an antique, I'm VINTAGE!" What ever way you say it, We're all tool guys. Old or Young, antique or vintage. (I would have gave 30 bucks for it too... LOL)

I Must Be An Antique One weekend my wife and I decided to take a detour on our way home and stop by some of the local antique stores. She was looking for a piece to put in her quilting studio, and since I was driving, I grudgingly tagged along. Window shopping isn't one of my strong points. I'm more of the "Get what you came for, and go home" type. Although a little quality time with the Mrs.is something I didn't want to pass up. There wasn't a whole lot that interested me, other than the architecture, but on we went from store to store. We came across a store front that had the charm of days gone by. Inside was a long counter that was as antique as the store, full of all kinds of items. The ceiling was original with an ornate tin embossed design that stretched to the back of the store. The entire store was as much an antique as the wares for sale. By now my curiosity was in full swing to see the rest of the building. It originally was the town's hardware store from around the turn of the last century, and the décor hadn't changed from its early beginnings. We made our way around the displays and meandered to the back of the store. Here the store divided into an upper and lower level. She asked me, "Do you want to go downstairs and check it out?" Sure,might as well take the grand tour. The rickety stairs creaked and moaned with every step, and as we reached the bottom floor a large room opened up with what can be best described as a tool guy's paradise. Hanging from the rafters and on every shelf were tools of every description. Wood, concrete, railroad, gardening, big, small, tools and more tools, and yes… row after row of mechanic's tools. I must be in heaven. I've never seen such a variety of tools in one place before. Shelf after shelf of every type of tool you could think of. Some looked as worn and tattered as the old building, while others looked practically new. In one corner of the basement were several timing lights of different types and sizes. On a hook was a well-used dwell meter hanging by its cords, as well as multi-meters and amp gauges. As I walked around staring at all of the history on these shelves I couldn't help but smile. I could recall working under the hood of a car with these very same tools, and here they are resting in the basement of an antique store. It was like I stepped back in time, and was reliving all the work I've done with them. I couldn't help but feel nostalgic about my chosen profession. By now my wife had drifted off to another part of the store. I'm sure she knew where to find me. It wasn't likely that I was going to wander too far from here, at least not until I had my fill of looking at all this stuff. "I'll come find you when I'm ready," she said as she headed back up those creaking stairs. I waved my hand in her direction as if to say, "I know, I know… go on…I'll catch up." Over on one shelf was a small leather covered box. I opened it, and inside was a dial indicator …almost complete. It was lacking the extension rods. Not a problem, I just happened to have a set in my toolbox. The price on the sticker was… ten dollars! I've got to get this. On the very next shelf there was a well-worn piston ring groove cleaner. No price tag on it and it still had a layer of grime covering the cutting bit. Not that I'm going to be needing a ring groove cleaner any time soon, but it was one of those things that looked out of place on the shelf. It had to come home with me. After what seemed like minutes, but I'm sure my wife would tell you it was more like hours,I thought I better go find her and take my new found goodies up to that old counter. On the way out I saw a large pile of snap ring pliers. One had the smallest tips on it that I've ever seen. Now, that's something I can use. The tag read… two dollars! Two bucks? Ok, it's coming with me, too. I found the wife in another part of the store still searching for her one item, which she still hasn't found. She seemed a bit curious as to what was taking me so long. With a great deal of enthusiasm I proceeded to tell her all about them. Obviously my exuberant tale of my great finds didn't interest her that much. In a stern voice she said, "Can we go now?" "Ok, let me go pay for these," I said with a gleam in my eye. I put my best bargain hunter's face on, and laid my items down on the counter. "I found this dial indicator for ten bucks;it's missing a few pieces and this snap ring pliers for two, but this other thing you didn't have a price on it. It's kind of grungy, needs cleaned up, how about I give you ten bucks for all three?" I said with a smile. The clerk looked at the items I had laid out, and then picked up the groove cleaner. She held it up to her elderly father sitting just off to the side, "What's this worth, Dad?" He got up from reading the paper, leaned forward, and peered over his glasses, "Ain't worth a thing." "Well this guy wants to give you ten bucks for all three of these things. I don't even know what this is, Dad?" In my haste to make a deal I blurted out, "If you can tell me what this is, I'll gladly give you the ten bucks for all three." The old man leans over the counter, squints a bit and says,"That's a piston ring groove cleaner, probably from the fifties. I've used one many a time," then sat backdown, "Sure I'll take ten bucks for all three." With that I handed the cash to the little lady. As I finished the transaction I walked over to shake the old man's hand, "Sir, there's not too many people who would have known what this is. You've made my day." As we drove home, my wife curiously asked what was so exciting about looking at all those tools, especially since I handle tools all day long. With a great amount of ambiguity I said, "Well,they're tools, dear… you know… tools." She may not understand my thing for tools, but from now on I'll keep my eyes open for another place like this and maybe pick up a few more treasures. It was about then, while driving home, I finally realized where I'd been… an antique store of all places… these tools are antiques! That's when I realized my own plight, its official… I must be an antique as well. View full article

Carl, I'm so glad that Santa made it thru another season without getting caught. Have a great time with the Mrs. and I'll catch up with you on Sunday night chat.

Give me a neck snappin', tire smokin', sleeper ANY day... friggin AWESOME. Enough of all this techno gizmos...back to old school baby! that's a real rocket... LIKE... LIKE LIKE !

It's not luck its opportunity. Everyone has an opportunity to try something or invent something. Pushing yourself beyond the so called comfort zone is what makes the Bill Gates of the world. He had the opportunity to try an idea, an idea that made him a millionaire. It wasn't luck at all. Lucky, is winning the lottery... what to do with the opportunity you've been given after you won... well... that might take a bit of luck if you're not willing to think outside the box or out of your comfort zone. Nice read... enjoyed it.

AND a MERRY CHRISTMAS to You and all your family. Especially to the gang here at ASO Happy Holidays to one and ALL

Tried to click on it to load it to my android. There was an error msg. Tried it several more times... same thing. I haven't a clue why.