God's Crash Course in Auto Mechanics

The 1970 Maverick Grabber.

HarleyDad was a professor in BigD Bible College of Knowledge. Having seen the light, and having demonstrated without a doubt, that he would unable to afford a family and the vices of his extended family by serving in this learned profession, HarleyDad , with the help of young Brokerbelle, began to search for another profession. The answer was Big T School of Law and Legal Chicanery.

But before HarleyDad headed off to Big T he needed a vehicle that would propel him trouble free through law school. So HarleyDad purchased a brand new 1970 Maverick Grabber. The car was a beautiful yellow and black. It was also what was called a “mid-year model.” That is what should have tipped me off.

The downhill spiral began quickly. As I would leave from teaching at BigD each day I would find Chiquita banana stickers on the car. Apparently my students had graded my cool new car, and it had passed their quality tests. They had awarded my new car their Chiquita banana seal of approval. So every day for as long as I taught, I would have to remove Chiquita banana stickers from the car. Later, I would learn that Chiquita banana stickers go on bananas—not lemons.

The progression spiraled down further. I entered Big T and immediately things began to fall apart . Brokerbelle and I lived on a secretaries salary, we had the little ImpQueen (except then she was a baby princess instead of being either an Imp or a Queen.) We lived in public housing. We had steak one time and it was so unusual that we decided to frame the left over steak bones.

It was then that items seemed to go bad on the car. One item after another. It was a mechanical, Chinese water torture. Break…….Break……Break……….Break. Not having much money, I had to do many of the repairs myself. It was like autoleprosy. Things decayed, things broke. Piece by piece I rebuilt that horrible auto. All the time I was in law school. I took two major series of finals each year for a sum of six final exam sessions. Out of the six sessions when I took final exams, that auto was broken down during four of them. Did I mention that we only had one car. Did I mention that Brokerbelle had to get to work and the ImpQueen in her neophyte stage had to get to daycare. All on a secretaries salary. Did I mention that we had no relatives in the area to help us. Curse that car!!

Now I never learned to be a mechanic-but that car taught me to be a rudimentary car mechanic. Unfortunately, I had decided to attend Big T to become God’s gift to the Legal Profession—not to become a mechanic (although, perhaps I could have made more money as a mechanic or a plumber and have had a better time, and have dealt with more wholesome subject matter, to boot.) At any rate, I called that car “God’s Crash Course in Auto Mechanics.”

However, that name is unfair and may be really taking God’s name in vain. It was the auto from hell. In fact, Heironimus Bosch would have included the Maverick in his drawings of hell, if there had been Mavericks when he was alive. Almost nothing makes me madder than a car that does not work. And I had many opportunities to control my temper with that Ford.

I mentioned that the car was a “mid-year” model. Although I can not be absolutely certain what a mid-year model means, here is what it meant on that Maverick. Half the parts were from 1970 and half from 1969. You though you had purchased a 1970 vehicle. Surprise! You had purchased one half of a 1970’s vehicle. Here is how it works. You need new break shoes. They are worn out. You go to the local parts store and buy shoes for a 1970 Maverick and then return and try to install them. They don’t fit. You then take the original, old shoes and the 1970 shoes to the auto parts store and it turns out that they are 1969 shoes instead of 1970 shoes. The next thing that breaks you get a 1969 part and find that it does not work because it is instead a 1970 part. The 1970 parts and the 1969 parts all all different and you have some parts on the car that are 1970 and some that are 1969. Congratulations you have a vehicle that is a “mid-year model.”

There is a way to solve the mid-year conundrum. Any time that you have to purchase a part (and on this lemon, I had to replace it part by part), you pull the part, walk into the parts store, slap it on the table, and say give me one like one of these. You then instruct them to pull parts for both the 1970 Maverick and the 1969 Maverick. You take them out of the box and the one that looks the most like your part, you purchase.

So unfortunately, I studied car mechanics when I was supposed to be studying law. Then to do it all with one car and in poverty and no garage –now that is a recipe for adversity. The crash course in car mechanics was I believe some moral test of my character. I confess I failed the test.

The Limony Snickett kids do not have it tough. The suckers that bought the 1970 Maverick, now they are the ones that have it tough.

It ain’t funny, but it is true .

Another true auto tale by
HarleyDad