Seeking Wisdom Under a Rusty Pickup

Alchemy 101: A Golden Nugget in a Chunk of Coal

Living paycheck to paycheck sucks. Let’s not sugar coat it. But I want to let you in on a little secret . It can also be the most educational and enlightening time of your life.

I’ve learned more because I was poor, than for any other reason. If you’re broke right now, hear me out.

Pretend for a moment that you aren’t really you. Pretend you’re somebody else. And that “somebody else” is right now reading a story or watching a movie with a main character that is having all the same experiences you are having.

You know the hero of the story will be triumphant–eventually. How soon depends upon the choices he or she makes right now. And right now, the hero has just discovered a problem that he or she is completely clueless about how to fix.

Some people enjoy tinkering. It’s just in their nature. But a person without a healthy cashflow is infinitely more likely to be a do-it-yourselfer. Unfortunately, for most of us, this often means learning something entirely out of our comfort zones.

However, if a person can get over the fear, he can actually learn a lot–mostly about things he has absolutely no aptitude or interest in . . .but still.

Most things are only scary because you’re ignorant. Doing those things stretches you. And once you’ve stretched, you can’t shrink back.

Regardless of the outcome, you’ll boost your confidence. Higher self esteem isn’t far behind.  Plus the experience you gain will make you infinitely more interesting at parties.

All because you choose to do things that you normally wouldn’t if you had the cash to avoid it.

A Little Knowledge Can Be a Dangerous Thing.

That said, sometimes it is better to leave certain tasks to the Professionals. These are people to whom we pay hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars because we don’t have a choice. Lets face it, Professionals have the specific knowledge, training, tools and supernatural powers to fix things that, quite frankly, common folks should not be fiddling with.

I, for example, am not a Professional and would never attempt anything like a root canal, refrigerator repair or emptying a full vacuum cleaner. I might, however, take a stab at replacing a fuel pump on an old truck rusting beside my garage.

The challenge is in knowing when to tackle a project, and when (in order to avoid frustration, costly mistakes, or death) to hire it out.

One Step From the Scrap Heap

Once upon a time my wife and I had an old GMC pickup rusting beside our garage. This truck had served us very well for a long time, but lately, had become somewhat less reliable. Recently it had even taken to sputtering and dieing while on the highway. It would start fine, I would drive it for five miles, and then, for absolutely no reason, it would die, forcing me to pull over and curse myself for not charging my cell phone.

As if this wasn’t frustrating enough, often times after sitting a few hours it would start up again and run like a champ. This, of course, made it extremely hard to troubleshoot—not to mention gain any credibility at the auto shop.

Finally, one sunny spring day, it just wouldn’t start at all. It wouldn’t even turn over. So I let it sit next to the garage. We only really used the truck occasionally anyway. The wife and I each had more reliable (not to mention fuel efficient) modes of transportation.

How to Know If You Really Are Trailer Trash

As the weeks marched on, the grass grew dangerously high around it. We had tried to sell this truck the summer before, but apparently the market was saturated and we never got a serious offer. An ember of fear began to glow within me as I imagined how this might play out. For I had seen many such vehicles parked in a similar manner–beside many such garages.

Was this how it all began? Was this just the first step? Had I just had a craving for cheap beer and cheese puffs?

This fear smoldered until one warm summer day when the riding lawnmower, which had been running great, quit right in the middle of the lawn.

The ember of fear fanned into a flame. I assured the wife I could fix it. After all, lawnmowers were smaller than trucks, and I’d had some luck with this type of thing in the past. She seemed unconserned, offered me the appropriate amount of encouragement, a refreshing drink and the owner’s manual. I thanked her heartily and went out to tinker.

I don’t remember everything I tried, but I’m pretty sure it included filling the gas tank, cleaning the air filter, and looking quizzically at the trouble shooting guide in the owner’s manual. Two hours later I went to Wal Mart to look for starter fluid and a replacement spark plug.

Having previously diagnosed a dead battery on the pickup, I decided to take that with me as well.

Once there, I felt much better. A Wal Mart Professional assured me that once I replaced the spark plug, my lawnmower problems were as good as solved. He also confidently attached my old battery to a mysterious but powerful computer that (I swear) contacts other dead batteries in the spirit world to determine its readiness to cross over.

Five minutes later the computer screen blipped and told me to go away. The testing process would take some time, and I might as well do some shopping while I waited.

Eventually I returned home with a new (live) battery and a spark plug for the mower. Still, nothing worked—even after saturating myself with starter fluid, as indicated on the back of the can.

With a new battery, the truck would now turn over, but it still wouldn’t start. With a new spark plug, the lawnmower did the same.

Chapter 2: Avoiding Insanity

It is at this point in my story that the mower and the truck took different paths. I was getting nowhere, and I remembered that the definition of insanity is the tendency to repeat the same actions while expecting different results.

Anyone who has ever tried to start a vehicle until they’ve completely drained the battery understands this tendency.

I loaded the mower onto my trailer and dropped it at the small engine shop. The Professionals there assured me that if I didn’t hear from them in five days it was best to forget the whole thing and buy a goat.

Fortunately it didn’t come to that, and when I returned, the Professionals informed me that they had solved the problem by “re-seating” the valves. This is a complex mechanical procedure that involves removing the engine cover and offering the little parts inside new, more comfortable, chairs.

Mysterious Texts and the Wisdom of the Jedi

The truck, however, (still sitting beside the garage) is another story. In this case, I did not hand it over to the Professionals, but decided to continue to work on it myself. With some help from the wife, a mysterious book called, Auto Repair for Dummies, and a very knowledgeable and supportive friend named Jim (who just happens to be a Professional), we diagnosed a bad fuel pump and attempted to replace it.

I remember three things being important to me at the time . 

1. I had never even seen a fuel pump before, and
2. Jim lives in New York.
3. I lived in Wisconsin.

Jim (being a man of logic like myself) assured thus:

1. None of the above was reason enough to quit now. 
2. I could do it, and
3. he would talk me through it step by step over the phone and send detailed instructions via e-mail.

Looking back I now realize that he used the Jedi mind trick to bolster my confidence.

The first thing Jim had me do was go down to the auto parts store to pick up a new fuel pump (Wal Mart doesn’t sell ‘em), and a bit of flexible black hose.  He then talked me through the removal of the old fuel pump, which I did, but only after cutting part of the fuel line with a small pipe cutter. Jim (again using Jedi powers) assured me this was not a problem.

Then Jim told me how to install the new fuel pump. This actually would have been fun, except for the fact that I had to take a yoga class so I could contort my body enough to reach the bolts that needed tightening.

Finally, Jim had me run the black hose into a gas can and try to start the truck. It worked!

I guess he was right after all. I did do it. It really wasn’t that bad. The hardest part was bending and twisting in unnatural ways so I could reach things. Most people don’t realize that professional mechanics have been trained by Jedi masters. They can actually move things with their minds so, unlike the common man, they don’t have to reach into impossibly small crevices to turn bolts with a wrench. I, not knowing the art of telekinesis, had to break my arm in three places to increase my flexibility.

Was it all worth it? You bet. I learned a ton, and I felt great driving around with a black hose attached to a gas can sitting in the cab. It wouldn’t run otherwise. Turns out the fuel line had broken off inside the gas tank. And I couldn’t fix that without removing the tank.

I’m all for trouble shooting, learning and solving problems, but there does come a time when a man’s got to move on—and a truck’s got to be donated to the American Kidney Foundation.

Copyright © 2006 by Chris Wondra. All Rights Reserved.

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