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Problem On the "IN"-side The tow truck came around the corner of my shop with a 2003 Focus strapped down on the bed. Its Stacey's daughter's car, Stacey is the office manager at the bodyshop just down the street from the shop. Her daughter's little Ford had given up at a stop sign for a trip on the back of a tow truck. Now it was up to me to find out what's going on with it. The tow driver brought the keys in to Katie (my daughter and office manager), she had already talked to Stacey and had the work order filled out. Katie asked the tow driver, "Where did you drop it at? Stacey said it won't start." "It started for me," the tow driver said, "I put it along the side of the building for ya." I found the car right where he left it and I'll have to admit… it did start up, but I wouldn't call it great. I made it into the service bay with it bucking, jerking, and coughing like crazy, along with a terrible rotten egg smell coming from each end of the car. The service light was on so I thought I would start with finding out what trouble codes were stored. P0300, P0301, P0302, P0303, P0304, and P0316 all misfire codes. It's a good thing it didn't have any more cylinders because I'd bet it would have added them onto its list of trouble codes too. Rather than get into looking at the actual data logger section of the IDS I figured I'll open the hood and see what's going on. The car has the 2.0 liter ZETEC engine under the hood. It's a fairly easy engine to pull the spark plugs on so I thought I would at least take a look at them. The odometer shows 184,000 miles on the little pavement pounder, so I was thinking the worst, that many miles… hey, anything is possible. As I pulled the first sparkplug boot off, a splash of coolant came out of the cavity. Well, that's a little different, didn't quite expect that. I pulled #2, same thing. Then the next one, again more coolant…, onto # 4, and more coolant came flying out of the hole. Peering down between the cam covers all I could see was a sea of coolant and only the very tops of the spark plugs was sticking out. There were no signs of any kind of leaks anywhere on the engine, in fact, the reservoir was full and the engine showed no outward signs of overheating. It just didn't make any sense how all this coolant could end up in there. I blew all the coolant out, dried all the plug wires off, and re-installed them. After giving the key a turn the little engine came back to life and purred like new. Amazing, simply amazing how well it ran after how badly it came into the shop, but within 15 minutes or so the engine started to act up. It coughed and chugged, shacked and stuttered, and then it finally died. Now it won't restart, what the…? What's going on here? Time to check a little further… I pulled the no#1 spark plug. It was bone dry, actually "very dry" and "very hot". Exhaust gasses I'll bet. I let the car set for about another 15 minutes and try it again. A quick turn of the key and it ran like new just as before, but this time I was ready for it. I had it hooked up to the scanner and checked out the O2 sensor readings. It was just as I suspected. The front O2 readings were a complete mess. There was no pretty oscillating wave going up and down on the screen, more like a jagged old saw blade with half its teeth missing. I watched the scope patterns for several minutes, soon the engine started to cough and die just as it did before. I checked the compression this time. Well over 200 PSI, yikes! Looks like all those misfires added up to a lot of raw gas going into the converter. With all the plugs firing now the converter was only getting even more cooked than before. I filled Katie in on everything I had found. She can handle it from here. I was expecting Katie to come out and tell me to order a converter, or send it to the exhaust shop, or drop what I'm doing because it was going to be more than she wanted to spend on it… something like that, but that didn't happen. Somehow the word "IN" had more meaning to it than originally intended. Before I knew it a call came from Stacey, she was going to have a new engine installed. Huh? I didn't know I was putting a motor in … I think I missed something here…. So how in the world did a clogged converter turn into a new engine? It was the very first thing Katie had told Stacey. Katie said to her, "He found coolant in the spark plug area." Even though she mentioned that I blew off all the coolant that was on the sparkplugs somehow it got turned into a leaking headgasket. (I think the guys at the bodyshop were helping out with the diagnostics.) It took the better part of the afternoon to get the whole thing straightened out. Katie asked Stacey how the coolant ended up in the spark plug area. It was from a coolant hose that split about 2 weeks earlier. Stacey's daughter had someone change the hose for her but they never thought about looking for any coolant getting trapped on top the engine. My guess is it probably took a day or so before it ever started to miss. About then the service light would have come on and the real trouble would have started to build. I'll bet she drove around with it misfiring for a week or so before she told her mom how bad it was. Katie explained the mix-up to me and how everyone had the wrong idea about the engine's condition. I can't blame anyone for all of this… in most cases when someone hears there is coolant "in" the engine they assume it's a bad deal and most likely in the combustion chamber causing major problems. Well, in this case, it was only "ON" the engine and not "IN" the engine. A new converter installed and everything is back "IN" great shape again. I gotta make a point of explaining things a little better next time. My bad, I made the assumption that everyone knew what I meant when I said there was coolant in the spark plug area. (I should have said "On top of the engine.) Katie knew what I meant, but as the phone conversations went on the word "IN" just kept pushing the coolant deeper and deeper inside this little Ford. Katie… a wonderful gal, I got to hand it to her; she did a great job of explaining things. I'm a lucky guy to be able to work with my daughter in a family business, and even luckier to have her as an asset "IN" the office especially when she can explain things to a customer and get good old dad "OUT" of a jam. Thanx for reading my stories, some make it into print, some don't. Readers like you help make the decision as to which ones will go into my national column or into the dead files... Oh that dead file... it's pretty big these days. Let me know what ya think of the stories... it does help make the decision as to which ones get printed. Thanx again Gonzo View full article
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Problem On the "IN"-side The tow truck came around the corner of my shop with a 2003 Focus strapped down on the bed. Its Stacey's daughter's car, Stacey is the office manager at the bodyshop just down the street from the shop. Her daughter's little Ford had given up at a stop sign for a trip on the back of a tow truck. Now it was up to me to find out what's going on with it. The tow driver brought the keys in to Katie (my daughter and office manager), she had already talked to Stacey and had the work order filled out. Katie asked the tow driver, "Where did you drop it at? Stacey said it won't start." "It started for me," the tow driver said, "I put it along the side of the building for ya." I found the car right where he left it and I'll have to admit… it did start up, but I wouldn't call it great. I made it into the service bay with it bucking, jerking, and coughing like crazy, along with a terrible rotten egg smell coming from each end of the car. The service light was on so I thought I would start with finding out what trouble codes were stored. P0300, P0301, P0302, P0303, P0304, and P0316 all misfire codes. It's a good thing it didn't have any more cylinders because I'd bet it would have added them onto its list of trouble codes too. Rather than get into looking at the actual data logger section of the IDS I figured I'll open the hood and see what's going on. The car has the 2.0 liter ZETEC engine under the hood. It's a fairly easy engine to pull the spark plugs on so I thought I would at least take a look at them. The odometer shows 184,000 miles on the little pavement pounder, so I was thinking the worst, that many miles… hey, anything is possible. As I pulled the first sparkplug boot off, a splash of coolant came out of the cavity. Well, that's a little different, didn't quite expect that. I pulled #2, same thing. Then the next one, again more coolant…, onto # 4, and more coolant came flying out of the hole. Peering down between the cam covers all I could see was a sea of coolant and only the very tops of the spark plugs was sticking out. There were no signs of any kind of leaks anywhere on the engine, in fact, the reservoir was full and the engine showed no outward signs of overheating. It just didn't make any sense how all this coolant could end up in there. I blew all the coolant out, dried all the plug wires off, and re-installed them. After giving the key a turn the little engine came back to life and purred like new. Amazing, simply amazing how well it ran after how badly it came into the shop, but within 15 minutes or so the engine started to act up. It coughed and chugged, shacked and stuttered, and then it finally died. Now it won't restart, what the…? What's going on here? Time to check a little further… I pulled the no#1 spark plug. It was bone dry, actually "very dry" and "very hot". Exhaust gasses I'll bet. I let the car set for about another 15 minutes and try it again. A quick turn of the key and it ran like new just as before, but this time I was ready for it. I had it hooked up to the scanner and checked out the O2 sensor readings. It was just as I suspected. The front O2 readings were a complete mess. There was no pretty oscillating wave going up and down on the screen, more like a jagged old saw blade with half its teeth missing. I watched the scope patterns for several minutes, soon the engine started to cough and die just as it did before. I checked the compression this time. Well over 200 PSI, yikes! Looks like all those misfires added up to a lot of raw gas going into the converter. With all the plugs firing now the converter was only getting even more cooked than before. I filled Katie in on everything I had found. She can handle it from here. I was expecting Katie to come out and tell me to order a converter, or send it to the exhaust shop, or drop what I'm doing because it was going to be more than she wanted to spend on it… something like that, but that didn't happen. Somehow the word "IN" had more meaning to it than originally intended. Before I knew it a call came from Stacey, she was going to have a new engine installed. Huh? I didn't know I was putting a motor in … I think I missed something here…. So how in the world did a clogged converter turn into a new engine? It was the very first thing Katie had told Stacey. Katie said to her, "He found coolant in the spark plug area." Even though she mentioned that I blew off all the coolant that was on the sparkplugs somehow it got turned into a leaking headgasket. (I think the guys at the bodyshop were helping out with the diagnostics.) It took the better part of the afternoon to get the whole thing straightened out. Katie asked Stacey how the coolant ended up in the spark plug area. It was from a coolant hose that split about 2 weeks earlier. Stacey's daughter had someone change the hose for her but they never thought about looking for any coolant getting trapped on top the engine. My guess is it probably took a day or so before it ever started to miss. About then the service light would have come on and the real trouble would have started to build. I'll bet she drove around with it misfiring for a week or so before she told her mom how bad it was. Katie explained the mix-up to me and how everyone had the wrong idea about the engine's condition. I can't blame anyone for all of this… in most cases when someone hears there is coolant "in" the engine they assume it's a bad deal and most likely in the combustion chamber causing major problems. Well, in this case, it was only "ON" the engine and not "IN" the engine. A new converter installed and everything is back "IN" great shape again. I gotta make a point of explaining things a little better next time. My bad, I made the assumption that everyone knew what I meant when I said there was coolant in the spark plug area. (I should have said "On top of the engine.) Katie knew what I meant, but as the phone conversations went on the word "IN" just kept pushing the coolant deeper and deeper inside this little Ford. Katie… a wonderful gal, I got to hand it to her; she did a great job of explaining things. I'm a lucky guy to be able to work with my daughter in a family business, and even luckier to have her as an asset "IN" the office especially when she can explain things to a customer and get good old dad "OUT" of a jam. Thanx for reading my stories, some make it into print, some don't. Readers like you help make the decision as to which ones will go into my national column or into the dead files... Oh that dead file... it's pretty big these days. Let me know what ya think of the stories... it does help make the decision as to which ones get printed. Thanx again Gonzo
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Sounds pretty rough up there. Weather here (for a change) is rather mild. Hope the rest of your snow season is better than this. Been a long time since I've heard of snow this early. I can only remember a few times as a kid growing up back in the north east that we even had any type of snow around Halloween. This sounds like about as worse as it can get. Good luck Fellas.
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Trick Or Treat ----- a spooky story for a spooky night -----
Gonzo replied to Gonzo's topic in AutoShopOwner Articles
Ok, not one of my regular stories.... just a little something different for the occasion... Happy Halloween Everybody! Gonz -
Trick or Treat On a dark and starless night, the gloomy image of a car was shrouded by a dense evening fog as it curved its way down the narrow street. The eerie glow from the headlights could be seen darting between the trees as it passed by them. Through the shadowy mist and stillness of this moonless night the eerie moan of an engine laboring along could be heard through the quiet suburban neighborhood. Then a clanking of metal parts and a knocking sound filled the air. The creaks and groans kept increasing as the ghostly image of the car came closer. The sound shattered the nights silence with its presence growing ever louder as the car traveled toward me. The fog was still shrouding the vehicle, but there was no mistaking … it was coming closer and closer. Slowly it traveled down the street, stopping occasionally, but only for a moment and then gathered up speed again. The creaking and moaning continued at every stop. Stare I did, all alone, standing outside of my house, pondering my fate as the specter came ever closer. The eerie sounds kept increasing as the headlights broke from the fog filled night. I sensed something was amiss, #3… perhaps #4 cylinder, I couldn't tell. Of course, I'm curious; I've heard these sounds before, but… … … was I prepared for this nocturnal visit? They're coming towards me now; there should be no reason to move. I'm safe under the porch lights glow. I could see an odd looking figure behind the wheel… it was like nothing I've seen before, I couldn't help but stare. What devilish creatures will spawn forth from this vehicle? Could it be of such horrors that I may not have the courage to stand fast here in the safety of the porch light? The sheer thought of what could be next was almost more than I could bear. As the car crept up my driveway there was no doubt it was the ghastly apparition that was making those sounds of despair. The car stopped just within reach of the porch light. A sweet but putrid smell emanated from the front of the car while plumes of white fog darted out from under the hood. The car was about to gasp its last breath. As the driver turned off the engine it gave out a one last horrific death roll sound. The clatter of the engines internal parts finally were subdued and quiet came back over the neighborhood. He opened the creaking door slowly and carefully stepped out onto the pavement. Dressed in his finest, he appeared to be going out for the evening... an evening of what? I didn't want to know. The quietness was short lived, from the back seat of the car came voices, then in a flash, 3 little devils ran past me towards my front door. The strange driver was dressed in a large black cape, white gloves, and a full tuxedo. His face had a ghoulish gray pasty look to it, which had the appearance of something from the graveyard and the world beyond. He appeared to be a creature of the night... and it would be this night of all nights… the night that all the departed souls of the earth are allowed to roam free, but only on this one special night. It was October, October 31st... "All Hallows Eve" ... the night that small creatures dart from door to door seeking treats from unsuspecting victims who leave their porch light on. My porch light was on; the candy bowl was by the door, just out of reach of their devilish little ghoulish hands. It's what they came for tonight… they want the goodies. It seems I have fallen under the same spell as the rest of my neighbors. The only way to be rid of these miniature monsters is to feed them candy. Lots and lots of candy… it's the only thing that will keep them away 'til the next October 31st. As I looked down the street I could see more of them darting in and out of the fog filled porch lights. It's started again… they're coming…! Before the backdoor of the car was completely shut the three small creatures were past me, giggling and carrying small baskets full of candy and treats. There will be more of them tonight, I know there will... it's a long, long cold night, and the candy jar is not empty yet. They know it's not empty. I don't know how they know... but they know. Someone needs to stand watch at the door for these devils and zombies coming out of the gloom, reaching into the candy bowl for their share of the night's booty. That's why I'm on guard by my porch light. The stranger spoke to me; his voice was distorted by the large blood covered fangs hanging from his upper jaw. "You're a mechanic right?" Compelled to answer his question (must be a hypnotic trance or something) as I approached the still steaming car. "Yes I am. Anything I can help you with?" "My evening transportation is crying for attention. I think it's possessed, do you think you could help?" Showing no fear, I answered, "On a night like this you might need an exorcist." The still smoldering engine was hot and dark under the hood. I had my flashlight with me (to ward off those pesky small creatures.) I waved away the belching smoke, and peered into the darkened engine cavity. The problem was a simple one... the upper radiator hose clamp was loose. "There's the problem. I'll get my wooden stake, hammer, and some holy water... we'll remove the demons from this chariot," I told the stranger. I returned shortly with a screw driver and coolant just as some more of those odd little creatures ran past me giggling and counting their treasure. Soon, the car was ready to go again. The car was fine, no permanent damage; all the clanking and moaning had disappeared. Now he could take his little ghouls with him, and move to another street in the neighborhood and deliver those little candy seekers to someone else's unsuspecting door step. As I watched the taillights fade into the fog filled night I could see other ghosts and goblins running through the neighborhood. They're coming this way. I need to go refill the candy bowl. No more cars came by for me to remove the demons from under the hood that night. I think it's safe to say I can go back to the house now. The porch light is still on and the candy bowl isn't empty yet, so I'll stand here under the glow of the porch light a while longer, flashlight in hand, waiting for all those little goblins, ghouls, skeletons and vampires. I've got to admit the mysterious noises from under the hood of a car are far from spooky to me. I'm no demon exorcist; I'm a mechanic. I'm not frightened by rattles, clanks, and strange noises even on the scariest night of them all. But those cute little zombies and ghosts that come up to my front door on Halloween hollering … … … … … "! ! !Trick or Treat! ! !"… … … … … … They can scare the daylights out of me…………………! Happy Halloween View full article
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Trick Or Treat ----- a spooky story for a spooky night -----
Gonzo posted a article in Gonzo's Tool Box
Trick or Treat On a dark and starless night, the gloomy image of a car was shrouded by a dense evening fog as it curved its way down the narrow street. The eerie glow from the headlights could be seen darting between the trees as it passed by them. Through the shadowy mist and stillness of this moonless night the eerie moan of an engine laboring along could be heard through the quiet suburban neighborhood. Then a clanking of metal parts and a knocking sound filled the air. The creaks and groans kept increasing as the ghostly image of the car came closer. The sound shattered the nights silence with its presence growing ever louder as the car traveled toward me. The fog was still shrouding the vehicle, but there was no mistaking … it was coming closer and closer. Slowly it traveled down the street, stopping occasionally, but only for a moment and then gathered up speed again. The creaking and moaning continued at every stop. Stare I did, all alone, standing outside of my house, pondering my fate as the specter came ever closer. The eerie sounds kept increasing as the headlights broke from the fog filled night. I sensed something was amiss, #3… perhaps #4 cylinder, I couldn't tell. Of course, I'm curious; I've heard these sounds before, but… … … was I prepared for this nocturnal visit? They're coming towards me now; there should be no reason to move. I'm safe under the porch lights glow. I could see an odd looking figure behind the wheel… it was like nothing I've seen before, I couldn't help but stare. What devilish creatures will spawn forth from this vehicle? Could it be of such horrors that I may not have the courage to stand fast here in the safety of the porch light? The sheer thought of what could be next was almost more than I could bear. As the car crept up my driveway there was no doubt it was the ghastly apparition that was making those sounds of despair. The car stopped just within reach of the porch light. A sweet but putrid smell emanated from the front of the car while plumes of white fog darted out from under the hood. The car was about to gasp its last breath. As the driver turned off the engine it gave out a one last horrific death roll sound. The clatter of the engines internal parts finally were subdued and quiet came back over the neighborhood. He opened the creaking door slowly and carefully stepped out onto the pavement. Dressed in his finest, he appeared to be going out for the evening... an evening of what? I didn't want to know. The quietness was short lived, from the back seat of the car came voices, then in a flash, 3 little devils ran past me towards my front door. The strange driver was dressed in a large black cape, white gloves, and a full tuxedo. His face had a ghoulish gray pasty look to it, which had the appearance of something from the graveyard and the world beyond. He appeared to be a creature of the night... and it would be this night of all nights… the night that all the departed souls of the earth are allowed to roam free, but only on this one special night. It was October, October 31st... "All Hallows Eve" ... the night that small creatures dart from door to door seeking treats from unsuspecting victims who leave their porch light on. My porch light was on; the candy bowl was by the door, just out of reach of their devilish little ghoulish hands. It's what they came for tonight… they want the goodies. It seems I have fallen under the same spell as the rest of my neighbors. The only way to be rid of these miniature monsters is to feed them candy. Lots and lots of candy… it's the only thing that will keep them away 'til the next October 31st. As I looked down the street I could see more of them darting in and out of the fog filled porch lights. It's started again… they're coming…! Before the backdoor of the car was completely shut the three small creatures were past me, giggling and carrying small baskets full of candy and treats. There will be more of them tonight, I know there will... it's a long, long cold night, and the candy jar is not empty yet. They know it's not empty. I don't know how they know... but they know. Someone needs to stand watch at the door for these devils and zombies coming out of the gloom, reaching into the candy bowl for their share of the night's booty. That's why I'm on guard by my porch light. The stranger spoke to me; his voice was distorted by the large blood covered fangs hanging from his upper jaw. "You're a mechanic right?" Compelled to answer his question (must be a hypnotic trance or something) as I approached the still steaming car. "Yes I am. Anything I can help you with?" "My evening transportation is crying for attention. I think it's possessed, do you think you could help?" Showing no fear, I answered, "On a night like this you might need an exorcist." The still smoldering engine was hot and dark under the hood. I had my flashlight with me (to ward off those pesky small creatures.) I waved away the belching smoke, and peered into the darkened engine cavity. The problem was a simple one... the upper radiator hose clamp was loose. "There's the problem. I'll get my wooden stake, hammer, and some holy water... we'll remove the demons from this chariot," I told the stranger. I returned shortly with a screw driver and coolant just as some more of those odd little creatures ran past me giggling and counting their treasure. Soon, the car was ready to go again. The car was fine, no permanent damage; all the clanking and moaning had disappeared. Now he could take his little ghouls with him, and move to another street in the neighborhood and deliver those little candy seekers to someone else's unsuspecting door step. As I watched the taillights fade into the fog filled night I could see other ghosts and goblins running through the neighborhood. They're coming this way. I need to go refill the candy bowl. No more cars came by for me to remove the demons from under the hood that night. I think it's safe to say I can go back to the house now. The porch light is still on and the candy bowl isn't empty yet, so I'll stand here under the glow of the porch light a while longer, flashlight in hand, waiting for all those little goblins, ghouls, skeletons and vampires. I've got to admit the mysterious noises from under the hood of a car are far from spooky to me. I'm no demon exorcist; I'm a mechanic. I'm not frightened by rattles, clanks, and strange noises even on the scariest night of them all. But those cute little zombies and ghosts that come up to my front door on Halloween hollering … … … … … "! ! !Trick or Treat! ! !"… … … … … … They can scare the daylights out of me…………………! Happy Halloween -
Howdy! Welcome partner! !
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Clamps and Batteries The first time I saw a hose clamp holding the positive cable onto the battery I just couldn't believe it. Nobody prepared me for things like this. It's not the kind of thing covered in tech schools, or in one of those "how-to-fix-your-car" manuals. It's something that will surprise you the first time you see it… but then it happens again. A few months later, I open the hood on another car, and low and behold… it's a pair of grip pliers attached the terminal. This time I took the pliers up to the customer and told him what I found. He didn't want the pliers back… OK, then… I'll clean them up, and put them in my tool box. Now I've got a collection of these crazy battery clamp contraptions. They've kept showing up over the years without fail; from screws and nails tightening a worn out clamp to some foreign object taking the place of the original clamps. Ya just never know. I think the grip pliers are probably the most popular form of substitution. Not much use as pliers anymore, the teeth are usually worn or something else is wrong with them. But, I don't want to just throw them away… I always think I'll find some use for them later… never do of course. Wouldn't it make more sense to replace the clamp when it's time with an appropriate type of replacement clamp? And, it's not like some of these "wiz-bang" contraptions were just put on yesterday, oh no… some of these creations have huge amounts of corrosion and "fuzz" built up on the terminals. There must be a misconception about how a battery clamp does its job? Has to be, why else would I see this so often, and it's not always on the good old hunting truck or the farm truck that hardly ever makes it out of the fields. It's the everyday soccer mom's car or the exotic odd-shape-battery-style cars, either. Something else to think about… some thought has gone into these "home engineered" clamps. It took a lot of time and effort to accomplish these inventive forms of electrical fasteners. I've even had a car that someone had taken strips of a soda can and used them as spacers between the clamp and the post. This wasn't just a quick little effort mind you. Somebody had to think about it, conjure up a plan… get a pair of tin snips, cut out strips from a soda can at just the right height to match the clamp and then carefully place a few of them into the gap. Before ya knew it, the clamp was tight again… a genius at work I tell you…a genius!… maybe not MENSA material, but a genius for sure. One time I had a car in where somebody used a high voltage connector for a battery clamp. The kind you would find on high voltage overhead electrical lines. It was a splice clamp used to hold two lines together. Apparently it was the only thing handy, and it did work; in fact must have worked for quite some time… I couldn't tell what it was until I removed the almost two inches of corrosion build up. I don't know what kind of material this clamp was made out of, but battery acid sure liked it a lot. Then there was this rocket scientist attempt at improving on the old battery clamp… he used a hacksaw blade and cut the post down the middle. Then put the clamp back on with a small steel wedge down into the crack he made with the hacksaw. From the pounding the top of the battery had taken it looked like the guy used a sledge hammer to knock the little wedge in place. Of course, it wasn't long before the battery started to leak acid out of the post. What a mess… A real favorite of mine are the ones that tighten, and tighten, and tighten the bolt clamp until that little bolt won't go one thread tighter. Then bring the car in thinking they have a major electrical problem, because at times the starter will click, or they'll lose all power to the vehicle. The place I'll always look at first are the clamps. 99% of time it's a simple clamp problem, especially when I can remove the battery clamp off the post without turning the bolt. (Yo' dude… that clamp is made of lead… it will stretch and deform out of shape. You can tighten all you want but it ain't going to get any better.) Now let's talk battery size… really… is this all that hard to figure out? If the battery in the car had the positive post on the right, and you put a battery in that had the positive post on the left… uhmmm… do ya think ya might have a problem? Ya gotta put the right size back in… just 'cause it fit… doesn't mean it "fits". The old air cooled VW is one that comes to mind. I've lost count of how many of those I've rewired after a too tall battery was installed and burnt the whole back end of the car. It never ceases to amaze me how a simple thing like a battery or a clamp can become such a traumatic fiasco in a car. Just boggles the mind at all the variations of craziness I've seen over the years with battery installations and repairs. Many years ago a customer brought in a 75' MBenz that his grandson had put the battery in backwards. The car was ruined, but not completely… it could be rewired and repaired, but the cost was more than he wanted to deal with. I bought the car off of him as is, and tore it down and rewired it. I drove it for several years, and then later gave it to my daughter to use. Battery replacement should be a basic simple repair; however, after seeing some of the creative ways people create their own connections or how they install them, looks like a complete loss of common sense to me. I'd like to think simple is the word to explain it, but simple doesn't even begin to describe it all. These days I just laugh at the marvels of these back yard engineering feats. It's hard to keep a straight face when you get back to the front counter to explain to the customer that a paperclip and two bread twist ties aren't strong enough to keep the cable attached to the battery. It's some of the best entertainment at the shop. Gotta love em'. Just to let ya know, I've already got enough grip pliers, old hose clamps, coat hangers, screws, wire nuts, small bench vices, ratcheting wood clamps, fence pliers, clothes pins, meat skewers, and c-clamps to last me a lifetime, so if you would please, come up with a few new ones for me… I've got room in my collection for more…Oh, and I could use a few more laughs too. Sometimes it's not a question of whether your right or wrong it's more of a question of "What the Hell just happened here?" That's usually what I ask myself after seeing some of the weird battery clamping devises I've witnessed over the years. Funny to say the least. Hope you enjoyed the story... as always leave a comment, leave your input... ya never know and I certinaly don't know... if this story will ever make it into print... but strangers things have happened. View full article
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Clamps and Batteries The first time I saw a hose clamp holding the positive cable onto the battery I just couldn't believe it. Nobody prepared me for things like this. It's not the kind of thing covered in tech schools, or in one of those "how-to-fix-your-car" manuals. It's something that will surprise you the first time you see it… but then it happens again. A few months later, I open the hood on another car, and low and behold… it's a pair of grip pliers attached the terminal. This time I took the pliers up to the customer and told him what I found. He didn't want the pliers back… OK, then… I'll clean them up, and put them in my tool box. Now I've got a collection of these crazy battery clamp contraptions. They've kept showing up over the years without fail; from screws and nails tightening a worn out clamp to some foreign object taking the place of the original clamps. Ya just never know. I think the grip pliers are probably the most popular form of substitution. Not much use as pliers anymore, the teeth are usually worn or something else is wrong with them. But, I don't want to just throw them away… I always think I'll find some use for them later… never do of course. Wouldn't it make more sense to replace the clamp when it's time with an appropriate type of replacement clamp? And, it's not like some of these "wiz-bang" contraptions were just put on yesterday, oh no… some of these creations have huge amounts of corrosion and "fuzz" built up on the terminals. There must be a misconception about how a battery clamp does its job? Has to be, why else would I see this so often, and it's not always on the good old hunting truck or the farm truck that hardly ever makes it out of the fields. It's the everyday soccer mom's car or the exotic odd-shape-battery-style cars, either. Something else to think about… some thought has gone into these "home engineered" clamps. It took a lot of time and effort to accomplish these inventive forms of electrical fasteners. I've even had a car that someone had taken strips of a soda can and used them as spacers between the clamp and the post. This wasn't just a quick little effort mind you. Somebody had to think about it, conjure up a plan… get a pair of tin snips, cut out strips from a soda can at just the right height to match the clamp and then carefully place a few of them into the gap. Before ya knew it, the clamp was tight again… a genius at work I tell you…a genius!… maybe not MENSA material, but a genius for sure. One time I had a car in where somebody used a high voltage connector for a battery clamp. The kind you would find on high voltage overhead electrical lines. It was a splice clamp used to hold two lines together. Apparently it was the only thing handy, and it did work; in fact must have worked for quite some time… I couldn't tell what it was until I removed the almost two inches of corrosion build up. I don't know what kind of material this clamp was made out of, but battery acid sure liked it a lot. Then there was this rocket scientist attempt at improving on the old battery clamp… he used a hacksaw blade and cut the post down the middle. Then put the clamp back on with a small steel wedge down into the crack he made with the hacksaw. From the pounding the top of the battery had taken it looked like the guy used a sledge hammer to knock the little wedge in place. Of course, it wasn't long before the battery started to leak acid out of the post. What a mess… A real favorite of mine are the ones that tighten, and tighten, and tighten the bolt clamp until that little bolt won't go one thread tighter. Then bring the car in thinking they have a major electrical problem, because at times the starter will click, or they'll lose all power to the vehicle. The place I'll always look at first are the clamps. 99% of time it's a simple clamp problem, especially when I can remove the battery clamp off the post without turning the bolt. (Yo' dude… that clamp is made of lead… it will stretch and deform out of shape. You can tighten all you want but it ain't going to get any better.) Now let's talk battery size… really… is this all that hard to figure out? If the battery in the car had the positive post on the right, and you put a battery in that had the positive post on the left… uhmmm… do ya think ya might have a problem? Ya gotta put the right size back in… just 'cause it fit… doesn't mean it "fits". The old air cooled VW is one that comes to mind. I've lost count of how many of those I've rewired after a too tall battery was installed and burnt the whole back end of the car. It never ceases to amaze me how a simple thing like a battery or a clamp can become such a traumatic fiasco in a car. Just boggles the mind at all the variations of craziness I've seen over the years with battery installations and repairs. Many years ago a customer brought in a 75' MBenz that his grandson had put the battery in backwards. The car was ruined, but not completely… it could be rewired and repaired, but the cost was more than he wanted to deal with. I bought the car off of him as is, and tore it down and rewired it. I drove it for several years, and then later gave it to my daughter to use. Battery replacement should be a basic simple repair; however, after seeing some of the creative ways people create their own connections or how they install them, looks like a complete loss of common sense to me. I'd like to think simple is the word to explain it, but simple doesn't even begin to describe it all. These days I just laugh at the marvels of these back yard engineering feats. It's hard to keep a straight face when you get back to the front counter to explain to the customer that a paperclip and two bread twist ties aren't strong enough to keep the cable attached to the battery. It's some of the best entertainment at the shop. Gotta love em'. Just to let ya know, I've already got enough grip pliers, old hose clamps, coat hangers, screws, wire nuts, small bench vices, ratcheting wood clamps, fence pliers, clothes pins, meat skewers, and c-clamps to last me a lifetime, so if you would please, come up with a few new ones for me… I've got room in my collection for more…Oh, and I could use a few more laughs too. Sometimes it's not a question of whether your right or wrong it's more of a question of "What the Hell just happened here?" That's usually what I ask myself after seeing some of the weird battery clamping devises I've witnessed over the years. Funny to say the least. Hope you enjoyed the story... as always leave a comment, leave your input... ya never know and I certinaly don't know... if this story will ever make it into print... but strangers things have happened.
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You guys made my day... I haven't stopped laughin' yet. And you're right sometimes the resto people can be the worst... but in some cases the best... Each case is different. I'll save judgement when I see the green stuff on the counter. LOL Thanks guys, you've really, really made my day. For all the frustration and humilation we go thru in a day, it's nice to know we all can laugh about it once in a while. Kudos guys... thanx
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Car 54 Now it's one thing to be called the south end of a north bound horse, or different parts of the human anatomy. But anal? Now that's a new one. And here I thought I had been called every name they could think of… this guy came up with one I've not heard used in the way he did. In my business I see all kinds of people. I get so many different walks of life in my shop it's hard to tell what insult is going to spew from the bowels of hell this time. This last episode was a Duesie… I'm not sure if this guy was just trying to be politically correct, or the word "anal" was his "word" choice of the day. It was an average day at the shop, not that busy, but busy enough to keep me on my toes all day. I was in the shop trying to figure out a job while running back and forth from the PC gathering more information. I was definitely in one of those spots where I needed to keep focused and concentrate on the task at hand. The front door bell was ringing loud and clear as someone came into the lobby. My daughter, Mandy, was in the front office that day helping old dad. She's pretty good at running the front office; she's been around the shop since she was little and knows a thing or two about cars. But, if she has any questions she'll make her way out into the shop and ask her questions to me then relay it back to the customer in the front office. The story goes that this guy came in with a partially restored 54' pickup and wanted turn signals added to it. When Mandy came to me about it she told me the guy only wanted an estimate and didn't want anything else diagnosed or spend a dime. Well, that's fine for now, but it's a little hard to tell how much when you say it's a partially restored 54', you need to ask a few questions. Like, does it have turn signals at all, is it the original steering column, are there one or two rear lights, and are there any dash indicators? Stuff like that. Mandy went back up front to ask the questions while I kept my head under the dash trying to sort out the problem I was currently dealing with. A few minutes later she came back out and filled me in with as much information as she could gather. There were still some unanswered questions I needed to know or his "guesstimate" was going to be really wrong. Since I was stretched out under this dash (pretty much wedged in there), I wasn't about to try to crawl out from under the dash until I got the job done. Which shouldn't be more than 10 or 15 minutes.. tops. "Tell him to give me a few minutes or so and I'll take a look at what he's got to work with." Mandy went back up front and told the customer what I said. When I finished up under the dash I came up front, (about 10 minutes) no guy, no car… where'd ya go car 54? Mandy says, "He left all pissed off, called you a horse's ass on the way out too." An hour or so later the phone rang… Mandy answers it……it's car 54 again…. "Do you know any other repair shops that can do the same kind of work that you do there?" he asked. Mandy was a little shocked at his question. She had to stop for a minute and think about her answer, she was actually quite ticked that somebody would call and ask that in the first place. "No sir, most repair shops in the area refer work to us when it comes to specialized wiring jobs such as yours," She answered. "I was referred to you by two different shops; they said you guys are the best in town. I would use you guys but your tech is obviously too "anal" to stop and help me with my problem," He answered. Tell me this, since when does the ringing of the front door bell mean; "Drop what I'm doing and do what you want… RIGHT NOW!" Hey, how about a little professional courtesy here buddy, I don't think it's fair to say I could get a doctor to stop in the middle of an examination the minute I walk into his office. It wasn't my choice to be stuck under the dash at that moment in time. But that's the way it was. Why should it be any different for automotive repair, but seriously… … anal?? Anal because I want to finish what I'm working on? Anal because I'd rather finish what I'm doing, because it's such a tight spot to be in and it is only going to take a few more minutes to do so? Really, you mean to tell me that your 54' turn signals are so important that you need an answer right this second and not a few minutes later? Well, then I guess you're right… I'm anal, and I suppose if I was working on this 54 and had to stop in the middle of it to talk to the next impatient customer about their turn signals that would be unacceptable to you too. How's that old saying go: "You're first, right after me…" This guy takes it to extremes. Here I am, jammed under a dash working on a paying customer's car and all this guy wants is free advice… hmm, let me think about this… what should I do? Work for a living, or work for A living. There's not much chance I'm going to work that hard to get every job in the shop these days. Could be I'm getting older, could be I just don't want to put up with all the BS from people like car 54 anymore. Pretty easy decision, I'll finish the dash job, then, look at Mr. 54's turn signals if he could've waited. Shortly after this guy came in the shop a buddy of mine who owns an office supply company came to me with a big button badge he made. It has the tail end of a horse proudly printed on it with the words to match. There's no mistaking the meaning of it. I guess that makes me official. So if you think calling me up and informing me of your opinion is going to affect me in some small way, well… sorry fella… too late, been there, done that, you're not the first. I'm already a member of the club, and I've got the badge to prove it. Thanks for reading my articles, most eventually will get published in one of my columns across the country. I never know which ones (editors really don't tell me beforehand) But I do get to let them know which ones YOU like. It does help to influence which stories get into next months magazines. Want to help ... leave a comment... let me know which story you would like to see. It really makes a difference. Thanx again. View full article
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Car 54 Now it's one thing to be called the south end of a north bound horse, or different parts of the human anatomy. But anal? Now that's a new one. And here I thought I had been called every name they could think of… this guy came up with one I've not heard used in the way he did. In my business I see all kinds of people. I get so many different walks of life in my shop it's hard to tell what insult is going to spew from the bowels of hell this time. This last episode was a Duesie… I'm not sure if this guy was just trying to be politically correct, or the word "anal" was his "word" choice of the day. It was an average day at the shop, not that busy, but busy enough to keep me on my toes all day. I was in the shop trying to figure out a job while running back and forth from the PC gathering more information. I was definitely in one of those spots where I needed to keep focused and concentrate on the task at hand. The front door bell was ringing loud and clear as someone came into the lobby. My daughter, Mandy, was in the front office that day helping old dad. She's pretty good at running the front office; she's been around the shop since she was little and knows a thing or two about cars. But, if she has any questions she'll make her way out into the shop and ask her questions to me then relay it back to the customer in the front office. The story goes that this guy came in with a partially restored 54' pickup and wanted turn signals added to it. When Mandy came to me about it she told me the guy only wanted an estimate and didn't want anything else diagnosed or spend a dime. Well, that's fine for now, but it's a little hard to tell how much when you say it's a partially restored 54', you need to ask a few questions. Like, does it have turn signals at all, is it the original steering column, are there one or two rear lights, and are there any dash indicators? Stuff like that. Mandy went back up front to ask the questions while I kept my head under the dash trying to sort out the problem I was currently dealing with. A few minutes later she came back out and filled me in with as much information as she could gather. There were still some unanswered questions I needed to know or his "guesstimate" was going to be really wrong. Since I was stretched out under this dash (pretty much wedged in there), I wasn't about to try to crawl out from under the dash until I got the job done. Which shouldn't be more than 10 or 15 minutes.. tops. "Tell him to give me a few minutes or so and I'll take a look at what he's got to work with." Mandy went back up front and told the customer what I said. When I finished up under the dash I came up front, (about 10 minutes) no guy, no car… where'd ya go car 54? Mandy says, "He left all pissed off, called you a horse's ass on the way out too." An hour or so later the phone rang… Mandy answers it……it's car 54 again…. "Do you know any other repair shops that can do the same kind of work that you do there?" he asked. Mandy was a little shocked at his question. She had to stop for a minute and think about her answer, she was actually quite ticked that somebody would call and ask that in the first place. "No sir, most repair shops in the area refer work to us when it comes to specialized wiring jobs such as yours," She answered. "I was referred to you by two different shops; they said you guys are the best in town. I would use you guys but your tech is obviously too "anal" to stop and help me with my problem," He answered. Tell me this, since when does the ringing of the front door bell mean; "Drop what I'm doing and do what you want… RIGHT NOW!" Hey, how about a little professional courtesy here buddy, I don't think it's fair to say I could get a doctor to stop in the middle of an examination the minute I walk into his office. It wasn't my choice to be stuck under the dash at that moment in time. But that's the way it was. Why should it be any different for automotive repair, but seriously… … anal?? Anal because I want to finish what I'm working on? Anal because I'd rather finish what I'm doing, because it's such a tight spot to be in and it is only going to take a few more minutes to do so? Really, you mean to tell me that your 54' turn signals are so important that you need an answer right this second and not a few minutes later? Well, then I guess you're right… I'm anal, and I suppose if I was working on this 54 and had to stop in the middle of it to talk to the next impatient customer about their turn signals that would be unacceptable to you too. How's that old saying go: "You're first, right after me…" This guy takes it to extremes. Here I am, jammed under a dash working on a paying customer's car and all this guy wants is free advice… hmm, let me think about this… what should I do? Work for a living, or work for A living. There's not much chance I'm going to work that hard to get every job in the shop these days. Could be I'm getting older, could be I just don't want to put up with all the BS from people like car 54 anymore. Pretty easy decision, I'll finish the dash job, then, look at Mr. 54's turn signals if he could've waited. Shortly after this guy came in the shop a buddy of mine who owns an office supply company came to me with a big button badge he made. It has the tail end of a horse proudly printed on it with the words to match. There's no mistaking the meaning of it. I guess that makes me official. So if you think calling me up and informing me of your opinion is going to affect me in some small way, well… sorry fella… too late, been there, done that, you're not the first. I'm already a member of the club, and I've got the badge to prove it. Thanks for reading my articles, most eventually will get published in one of my columns across the country. I never know which ones (editors really don't tell me beforehand) But I do get to let them know which ones YOU like. It does help to influence which stories get into next months magazines. Want to help ... leave a comment... let me know which story you would like to see. It really makes a difference. Thanx again.
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Shop management systems that incorporate the RO with the incoming phones calls, the equipment in the shop, and long distance (remote) diagnostics is really something that I think will be the future. The guy doing the video doesn't appear to like he's really a tech. More like a suit and tie playing the part. LOL... We still have to get techs with their hands on the vehicles in order to make the repairs. I watch my interns using wrenches and screwdrivers... they fumble around and around trying to turn a bolt or a screw..... but put a scanner in their hands... amazing... they pick that up quickly. (to many years of playing video games...) Need to keep in mind, cars are fixed with tools and hands.... but... today's techs have to know both the shop management side and the mechanical apptitude side of auto repairs. just a thought
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Golfing With an Attitude How I relate car repair to golf
Gonzo replied to Gonzo's topic in AutoShopOwner Articles
Thanks Joe, I'm grateful... to you and ASO. I think the thing I was trying to get across with this article is the fact that there ought to be a handicap for talking to people about car repair. You've got the race guys who have one attitude and level of expertise while the average soccer mom has another. Too bad, we couldn't ask, "What's your handicap... like we do on the golf course, at least that way we would know how technical an answer to give. What I see is EVERYONE is an expert, and the truth is... nobody is an expert, we get by with the ever changing industry standards and learn everyday. Thanks for the post ... always love to hear from ya Joe... We need more people like you spreading the word. -
Golfing with an Attitude Ok, I confess… I'm a golfer… I play almostevery weekend with the same bunch of guys. Why I go out each and every weekend and put myself thru the heat, rain, blusterywindy days and cold weather to hit some little white ball through 7000 yards ofmanicured landscape is beyond me. But,there's no doubt I'll work on improving my handicap, until I can't pick up aclub anymore. Once in awhile we'll be a guy short forsome reason or another, not a problem, we'll find another weekend whackerstanding around the club house looking for a game. After the first hole or so, you'll get anidea of what kind of golfer you've been teamed up with. More than likely he's just another weekendhacker knocking the ball around like the rest of us duffers. Sooner or later they'll ask, "What do you do for aliving?" I think it's pretty hilarious when I tell them I'man automotive repair shop owner/mechanic/author/columnist. I guess to some people having all these separatetitles is kind of impressive; I think it's pretty cool myself, but let's notforget… I'm really only a mechanic, who just so happens to write a column. First and foremost, I'm a mechanic. Eventually they've got to ask about a car; they'vegot some sort of problem and want to know what I think is causing it. Now, I don't mind answering their question ifthe question can be answered without any further discussion. Example: the checkengine light is on. Ok, bring it into the shop and I'll scan it… here's mycard. But, that's hardly the case; it'susually some strange bogus problem I'll take a swing at with my bestguess. Time after time, I'll get the "Ialready tried that" or "Really, you think that's what it could be?" Yes, that's what I was thinking, and yes,that's what I thought it could be. (Why do they come back with that question…of course that's what I thought it could be… do they "think" I thought it wassomething else? I would have said, "Ithink it's something else…") Then theyhave to drag their "ringer" into the game… the old "my regular mechanic said…"Ok,… time to move onto the next hole. I hear it's a par 5… a tough one. Enough car talk for the day. I'm playing golf right at the moment; let's leavethe shop at the shop. I'm not scanningan EVAP system for a P0455 code. I'm trying to focus on the wind direction andthe elevation to make this 150 yard shot with my 8 iron. I'm not trying to tellif the gas cap is tight. I mean, I could talk car repair and play golf at thesame time, but honestly… I don't keep a wrench and a scanner in my golf bag,nor do I keep a 2 iron in my tool box. Iget into enough hazards on the golf course, so let's make this putt and move onto the next T box. Drop the car stufffor just a little while. As matter offact why not hold your thought until a more appropriate time… like over a beerat the club house, while we're adding up the Nassau's for the day. When I'm asked automotive technical questions Idon't know how in-depth my answer should be. Most people outside of theautomotive industry don't seem to be interested in discussing the differencebetween direct fuel injection and multi-port injection. I could… really I could, but then I guessit's only boring if you bore people with it. I think it's fascinating what the human mind can come up with, and howwe as technicians take these ideas and put them into practice. Car repaircan be on many levels, and it's what level you're on that makes adifference. It's like a handicap ingolf. If you know what the other guy'shandicap is you can still play the game. It doesn't matter if they're not as good, we both play the same gamejust on different levels… it's the same when talking about car repair. Maybe that's why I like golf. It's a simple game… swing, hit a ball, and moveit from one spot on earth to another. Like car repair, you bring the car into the shop;you observe the problem, get the proper tools and "swing" away. Now,how much simpler can it get? Hmmm, youknow, neither is actually that simple. They both take years of practice to get good. Some people think golf is easy, 'til they tryit. It's not that easy… to me, car repair, good diagnostics skills, and goodcommunication skills with the customer are pretty much on an even par with agood golf swing. You're not going to learn it over night. After playing all these years I still getfrustrated at the game. I have those days I just can't seem to find my swing.It reminds me of how I get at the shop on some occasion. When I'm working on a job, and no matter whatI seem to try, I just can't put my finger on the cause of the problem. I work at it and work at it. Sometimes I have to take a few practiceswings, maybe step away for a second, whatever works to get my head back in thegame. Not so much different than my golfgame actually. On some occasions myswing is off, so I need to take a break from it or try something new.Eventually I'll find the problem, sometimes after I make the turn it comes tome. Pretty much like at the shop… walk away for a bit, and when I come backI'll have the solution. To keep my sanity on the golf course I try toavoid any conversations that lead into how to fix a problem with their personalcars. I always try to avoid getting my head in a hazard, while I'm in standingin the middle of the fairway. So, to say I play golf with an attitude, yea, Iguess I do… to say I take my job and my career as an automotive tech seriousenough to have an attitude about it… yea, you're right again. In the meantime let me get back to my golfgame, the cars can wait … I've gotta sink this putt for eagle. I hope everyone enjoys my weekly column here at ASO, I try to keep the subjects light and with some flair. Not all my articles go to print, but enough of them do. If you see one of my articles out there... let me know which magazine it's in. Always like to keep up with it. Gonzo View full article
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Golfing with an Attitude Ok, I confess… I'm a golfer… I play almostevery weekend with the same bunch of guys. Why I go out each and every weekend and put myself thru the heat, rain, blusterywindy days and cold weather to hit some little white ball through 7000 yards ofmanicured landscape is beyond me. But,there's no doubt I'll work on improving my handicap, until I can't pick up aclub anymore. Once in awhile we'll be a guy short forsome reason or another, not a problem, we'll find another weekend whackerstanding around the club house looking for a game. After the first hole or so, you'll get anidea of what kind of golfer you've been teamed up with. More than likely he's just another weekendhacker knocking the ball around like the rest of us duffers. Sooner or later they'll ask, "What do you do for aliving?" I think it's pretty hilarious when I tell them I'man automotive repair shop owner/mechanic/author/columnist. I guess to some people having all these separatetitles is kind of impressive; I think it's pretty cool myself, but let's notforget… I'm really only a mechanic, who just so happens to write a column. First and foremost, I'm a mechanic. Eventually they've got to ask about a car; they'vegot some sort of problem and want to know what I think is causing it. Now, I don't mind answering their question ifthe question can be answered without any further discussion. Example: the checkengine light is on. Ok, bring it into the shop and I'll scan it… here's mycard. But, that's hardly the case; it'susually some strange bogus problem I'll take a swing at with my bestguess. Time after time, I'll get the "Ialready tried that" or "Really, you think that's what it could be?" Yes, that's what I was thinking, and yes,that's what I thought it could be. (Why do they come back with that question…of course that's what I thought it could be… do they "think" I thought it wassomething else? I would have said, "Ithink it's something else…") Then theyhave to drag their "ringer" into the game… the old "my regular mechanic said…"Ok,… time to move onto the next hole. I hear it's a par 5… a tough one. Enough car talk for the day. I'm playing golf right at the moment; let's leavethe shop at the shop. I'm not scanningan EVAP system for a P0455 code. I'm trying to focus on the wind direction andthe elevation to make this 150 yard shot with my 8 iron. I'm not trying to tellif the gas cap is tight. I mean, I could talk car repair and play golf at thesame time, but honestly… I don't keep a wrench and a scanner in my golf bag,nor do I keep a 2 iron in my tool box. Iget into enough hazards on the golf course, so let's make this putt and move onto the next T box. Drop the car stufffor just a little while. As matter offact why not hold your thought until a more appropriate time… like over a beerat the club house, while we're adding up the Nassau's for the day. When I'm asked automotive technical questions Idon't know how in-depth my answer should be. Most people outside of theautomotive industry don't seem to be interested in discussing the differencebetween direct fuel injection and multi-port injection. I could… really I could, but then I guessit's only boring if you bore people with it. I think it's fascinating what the human mind can come up with, and howwe as technicians take these ideas and put them into practice. Car repaircan be on many levels, and it's what level you're on that makes adifference. It's like a handicap ingolf. If you know what the other guy'shandicap is you can still play the game. It doesn't matter if they're not as good, we both play the same gamejust on different levels… it's the same when talking about car repair. Maybe that's why I like golf. It's a simple game… swing, hit a ball, and moveit from one spot on earth to another. Like car repair, you bring the car into the shop;you observe the problem, get the proper tools and "swing" away. Now,how much simpler can it get? Hmmm, youknow, neither is actually that simple. They both take years of practice to get good. Some people think golf is easy, 'til they tryit. It's not that easy… to me, car repair, good diagnostics skills, and goodcommunication skills with the customer are pretty much on an even par with agood golf swing. You're not going to learn it over night. After playing all these years I still getfrustrated at the game. I have those days I just can't seem to find my swing.It reminds me of how I get at the shop on some occasion. When I'm working on a job, and no matter whatI seem to try, I just can't put my finger on the cause of the problem. I work at it and work at it. Sometimes I have to take a few practiceswings, maybe step away for a second, whatever works to get my head back in thegame. Not so much different than my golfgame actually. On some occasions myswing is off, so I need to take a break from it or try something new.Eventually I'll find the problem, sometimes after I make the turn it comes tome. Pretty much like at the shop… walk away for a bit, and when I come backI'll have the solution. To keep my sanity on the golf course I try toavoid any conversations that lead into how to fix a problem with their personalcars. I always try to avoid getting my head in a hazard, while I'm in standingin the middle of the fairway. So, to say I play golf with an attitude, yea, Iguess I do… to say I take my job and my career as an automotive tech seriousenough to have an attitude about it… yea, you're right again. In the meantime let me get back to my golfgame, the cars can wait … I've gotta sink this putt for eagle. I hope everyone enjoys my weekly column here at ASO, I try to keep the subjects light and with some flair. Not all my articles go to print, but enough of them do. If you see one of my articles out there... let me know which magazine it's in. Always like to keep up with it. Gonzo
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Was asked by a tech college if I'd like to teach a class for them... what ya think? It would be a night class. Might be fun
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Taking some time When the weather is right I like to ride my motorcycle to work. It's a little bit of a commute for me, but it does allow me time to observe the world from a different perspective than from behind a truck's windshield. I'm not surprised at how many people push past the speed limit, while maintaining a grip on their ever present cell phone. Some of these morning pavement pounders always seem to be in a hurry to get somewhere. It wouldn't surprise me if they are the same ones that come to the shop and want things done faster than it's possible. While on the bike I tend to notice a little more than when I'm driving in the car. You can hear the car behind you bring up the rpms just before they flip to the next lane and pass you like you're standing still. You can hear the guy's radio three car lengths away from you (and that's with his windows up). Hurry, hurry, hurry it seems everyone has some place to be right that second, rather than to be on the highway. When I finally get to the shop and open the doors, I'm really hoping for a change of pace… something to slow the morning down a bit. It would be nice to start my day off with a pleasant type of person for a change. Today was my day… My first customer was an older fella who drove in a 1981 Ford F150; yes I said an '81 model. I haven't seen one of these in quite some time. I mentioned to him, "Wow, that's an oldie." "Yes it is. I've owned it since it was new," the soft spoken gentleman tells me. "So, what's your problem with it today?" "The brake lights aren't working, I've already tried a new brake switch and bulbs, but it still doesn't work. I was told you're the man to see about stuff like this." "Not a problem, I can take a look at it if you'd like," I said as I put my helmet down on the counter. "I've got a ride coming, if I need to leave it." "I'll let ya know in just a bit, as soon as I move a few cars." I got his keys and unlocked the shop for the day, while he made himself comfortable outside on one of the benches. Was I in for a shock when I got into the truck! It was in perfect condition. He had it all reupholstered, repainted, and clean; it was still so much like a factory fresh vehicle that I just couldn't believe it. When I think of an '81 model in this day and age, it's most likely to be a worn out old rust bucket that's going to be nothing but one problem after another…. but not this truck. This old style brake light switch presses against a flat section on the master cylinder push rod, which then closes the switch and turns on the brake lights through the turn signal switch. The quickest way to check these is to turn on the hazards, and then walk back to the rear of the truck and see if both the bulbs are flashing. If they are, all you have to do is press on the brake pedal. If the switch and wiring is in working order the brake switch current should cancel the flasher and lock the signal on. Well, it didn't, the hazards kept on flashing. I crawled under the dash to test the brake switch. Seems the switch was new, but wasn't quite pressing against the master cylinder rod enough to close the switch. A simple adjustment of the contact plate on the switch did the trick. Works great now. I finished checking the rest of the turn signal operation and brake lights, and then took the truck back up to the front of the shop. The old guy was sitting on one of the benches reading a book patientl waiting for his ride to pick him up. "You're done already, sir. You won't need that ride now," I told him. "Wow that was fast! I was happy to just sit hear and read, ya didn't have to do it that quickly. This is super. I'm so glad to get this taken care of. Let's go inside and settle up the bill," he says with a big grin. "Oh, it was nothing. No charge today, it didn't take any time at all. It was pretty cool to see a one owner truck in such great condition. It's quite a change from some of the worn out junk that people drag in for repair." "Nothing? Your time is valuable, I couldn't find the problem. You already quoted me your diagnostic cost, and you should be charging for the actual labor time. You're the professional, I'm the customer, so I'm paying for your service. You deserve it. Even though you think it was nothing, I think it was something," he says while patting me on the back. Well, I guess I can't argue with that. We settled up and shook hands like a couple of old friends. We even took a little time to just chat in the front office about my motorcycle. He was thinking about getting one himself. I was really inspired by this fella. He made it a point to tell me that my time was not free, nor should it be any cheaper because of the quickness of my efforts. (Hard to believe I'm hearing this from a paying customer, when most of my professional years I've been preaching about the same thing.) He explained to me that it was his job as a customer to make sure people who work in the service related businesses are compensated for their time and efforts. It made my day to have someone come into the shop with this type of attitude. He wasn't in a hurry, he wasn't pacing, he was just waiting, waiting for me to finish, and was eager to pay for services rendered. I'm sure whether it would have been a big job or even a small one, I have a feeling he would have handled it in the very same manner. Makes me wonder why there aren't more people like this guy roaming the public roadways. I think he could teach us all a lesson in professional courtesy and how utilize our time better. As a professional mechanic it's not often you run across a professional customer: someone who values service work and the people that perform the same. Hopefully, he gets a bike of his own and the two of us can go riding together, I'd like that. So, for everyone out there speeding up and down the freeways trying to get somewhere in a hurry, keep an eye out for some old guy on a motorcycle. It could be the fella with the '81 F150 or it might even be someone like me, just taking some time…. Sometimes it's a great change a pace to write about some really good people in the world. The kind that appreciate what we do in the automotive repair business. I hope this brings a smile and a little relaxation to your day. I know it did to mine. Thanx again for taking the "time" to read my stories. View full article