Tools clutter my garage and can be found throughout the house. To have a car is to need tools. Years ago I bought a modern car and went without them briefly. Anything that needed done to the car, I sent to a mechanic.

 

Even the oil was outsourced to a place just up the road from where I work. Ultimately that stopped when they put a quart too much oil in. Then the next time they left it a quart low. The chubby newhire explained the low oil this way,

“Do you have air conditioning?”

Yes. What’s that got to do with this?

“Well, the A C is behind the engine, so it uses oil.”

oh, how’s that? where does the oil go? How does an enclosed system that’s independent of the engine use up the engine  oil?

“Oh, it does. It’s normal”

 

I never went back.

A fellow I know let the dealership change his oil for a few years but paid for major engine repair because they seem never to have cleaned or replaced the filter.

I’ve never let anyone change my oil, transmission fluid, differential oil, hub grease, or coolant since. I will let the shop replace the brake fluid on the newer car, but only because it makes sense on that machine.

 

My history with home car repair has a long genesis starting with my Nova. If each car has it’s weak point, the poorly engineered clutch arm was that point. A tube served as pivot point and two steel arms transferred the pedal push via cables to actuate the clutch. The arms would tear loose and break off.

 

Dad solved the problem with a welder and he did the removal and replacement of the part while I looked on ‘to learn’. But none of it made sense to me and it was cold outside in the rain.

 

My 914 had a rediculously designed door part that cost a C-note and broke easily. That design was so poor, it had to be on purpose.

 

Frankly, car mechanicals baffled me for a very long time and I learned only that they will break primarily in bad weather. Knuckles will be skinned. I didn’t understand what any of the parts actually did or how they worked together in systems. When my cars failed, I was utterly helpless to get them roadworthy again without books to consult and expertise to draw on.

 

My turnaround was slow, commencing with the revelatory description by  Jim,  that diagnosis is a methodical path that leads first to the affected system, and from there to the part. Before hearing that I thought of the car as a big single unit that either mysteriously all worked or just as mysteriously didn’t.

 

For a very long time, Jim had saved me repeatedly by solving each bit of treachery that the mechanicals conspired against my peace car after car after car. When I tried to diagnose and repair them, I made the situation worse. My lot was to endure and accept the help of an automotive god. But eventually that had to stop. The cars broke too often for me to drag him into my troubles.

 

Dad was helpful quite often also and with the successes each of them had for my car problems I was emboldened, thinking that if they could get to the bottom of what was wrong, so also could I.

 

Still, I had some embarrassing set backs. My MG stopped working in the middle of a frozen wasteland at night. When Jim arrived from a hundred miles distant, he solved the problem quickly. A spark delivery wire had backed out and when pushed fully in, the car fired right up.

 

Another time the car simply stopped working during a hill ascent. Dad came from our home out in the country and pulled an oil can off the fuel pump where the metal lid shorted the electric device to the body and made it stop working. He advised me not to stick the spent oil cans in the trunk any more. At least don’t let them roll around free. The fuel pump was just over the tank and fully exposed to the rest of the trunk contents. That was a price I paid for a car that burned a quart of oil every month.

 

When I replaced the distributor cap on my GMC, I learned about firing order. But the lesson required Jim, and several days with no truck.

After that was fixed the problem did not go away. The solution was  simple: replace the dry vacuum hose. For a few pennies I got some fresh supple hose that solved many problems.

The truck had been dying at idle and was loathe to restart.

The doors were kept shut with ropes and sticks. A paint brush handle in a certain hole kept the hood latched. When the truck died in rush hour traffic, men left their cars and pushed my truck and I popped the clutch with the ignition in the on position. It roared to life so suddenly that both doors flew forward and the hood flew up. I puttered carefully to a parking lot and closed everything.

I habitually parked at the top of a hill where possible.

Replacing the little vaccuum hose fixed my dangerous engine dying problem completely.

 

Then, I got adventurous. I pulled and rebuilt the engine in our VW bus. One small mistake destroyed all the work. I failed to set the crank shaft end play so the engine was too tight. But I never got to test it because I went to bed as the sun came up and my wife refused to wait. She wanted to drive to the beach and took offense to my suggestion that she take the other car and let me test drive the van because she was “an adult” and perfectly capable of picking which car to drive. It siezed up somewhere far away and we had it towed to the vw shop.

 

I did do a successfull engine swap for the 914. I bought a damaged VW 412 for the tires and ended up swapping out it’s motor too. Both fit the little two seater and the cost was only $100. It didn’t solve the problem that a previous owner caused though. All the sheet metal that served to conduct heat to the cabin had been stripped away.

 

For the next decade I lived in near poverty with family cars that played break-down tag team. One would stop working. the other would wait. When the repair was finally done, the other one took it’s turn. Whatever went wrong could rarely be found in the Haynes or Chilton manual, or if it was there some twist would exist that would make the book useless.

 

It seemed I was never far from the next repair, and I had no choice but to tackle it myself. Mechanics cost more than I had and towing would have added to the cost anyway.

 

Every maintenance repaired at a shop is a potential problem. There are mechanics who put you on a subscription where that somehow you end up there every few months, as if they loosened something and just waited for nature to provide them with a customer.

 

The nasty jobs are not necessarily done better by them either. The trail of gasoline that led from a garage to Walmart and back to the garage was the reminder to never let someone else replace your fuel filter. At least you will hook it up correctly and be less likely to explode in flame.

 

And listening to people who don’t know anything that would justify their expert advice is also costly. My poor Honda CVCC engine! The required a valve lash adjustment every 12,000 miles or so annoyed the wife. Her excessive complaining about it encouraged me stop doing it. Ultimately that led to an expensive head (the part with the valve springs and lash adjustment) replacement. Inconvenience has nothing to do with service requirements that the poor machine has.

 

The 914 taught me not to be over confident. Before I did the brake job on that car I assumed that disc brakes were fully self adjusting. Oops.

The lessons kept coming in and the pace accelerated with my acquisition of a Miata. Turns out, Mazda’s flagship two seater is a phenomenal example of great build and engineering quality. But the one I bought had been under a tarp for a year or so and there was some freshening up to be done. I also added a top quality roll bar, trunk rack, tow hitch, mud flaps, and tower strut brace.

The second time I owned it, I replaced all the belts, most hoses, the sensors, calipers and pads and rotors, cam shaft position sensor, filters, plugs, plut wires, pcv valve, and the catalytic converter. While I was at it I did the water pump, replaced the radiator cap and thermostat, and flushed the radiator. I had nearly arrived as a home mechanic.

 

Every job is an excuse to acquire a tool, it seems. Pretty soon I was back to work in the garage doing car repairs. I stopped sending it out to be fixed by mechanics after the Maxima came home with a deep ding in the paint from an unrepentant mechanic who had left it outside and his people weren’t careful.

 

After that I added a tower strut brace, new shocks and struts, half shafts, brake calipers and rotors, and a seriously inaccessable water pump. I was beginning to understand how to identify the source of any problem that reared it’s head, but I had to fight the urge to be too confident. Symptoms of modern cars can mimic those of the older ones but have nothing to do with what would have caused those symptoms in the old days. Now computers manage the transmission, smog control, ignition, and other systems. When the battery goes on the fritz, wierd things happen.

After going to Land Rover University (located at my garage) I was ready to tackle a run down Lotus.

 

Actually, I thought I was ready. It has taken me two years to face up to the reality that this car requires my hand in the restoration of far more of it than I have ever undertaken.

 

That requires tools and time and learned expertise.

 

But it occurred to me today that tools can be used to disassemble a car, or to sabbotage it. Someone with a grudge could just screw up any car enough to make it fail at speed and endanger a child.

 

Tools in the wrong hands could be the delivery method of anyone with a grudge or a desire for revenge.

 

So maybe the tools should be locked up. Maybe they should be done away with. Instead, I could put up signs designating my car and home to be break-down free zones where repairs are niether endured or allowed.

 

I know this can work because I used to be told every time I went to the dentist that there was a new cavity. When I stopped going, the cavities stopped being found. And ironically, that continued until I went back. One has to be suspicious.

 

If I stop with the maintenance and just enjoy my cars, I can count on the tow companies and mechanics to just make things right after a breakdown. But at least  I don’t have to worry about someone getting my tools and turning a nut too hard or orienting some part wrong.

 

I’d be a lot safer if I abdicated all the maintenance and repairs to professional third parties at their shop and got the dangerous tools out of my repair free zone.

Besides, I get oil under my nails if I try to play mechanic.

 

On the other hand, when I do work on my vehicle, I learn how the car works. I find other undetected needed repairs that had eluded me and fix them. I assure that the job is done correctly using best quality parts, and by doing timely maintenance I fend off potentially devastating system failures. I’m safer, and I get where I need to go and back home intact.

 

When I used to let all the maintenance out to other people, there were strandings and predatory mechanics and frustration.

So no, I’m not serious about giving up my responsibilities to maintain my cars. And the fact that some dolt could use my screwdriver or pliers to hurt people doesn’t change the fact that their idiocy can not be cured by stripping me of my tools and all the protections they afford me.

 

And believe me, putting up a sign warning everyone that mechanical break downs will niether be acceptable or guarded against will have no positive effect.

 

Anyone who thinks that’s how it works probably also believes that putting up signs and making rules against self defense makes the the world safer. I mean, putting up signs and making rules agains home repairs would make the world safer. Sorry, got off track.

 

I mean, really, would any car ever break down if there were no tools for me but only for predatory unscrupulous mechanics? Of course they wouldn’t. And knowing that I had no means to repair the car myself would encourage the mechanics to give me top quality work for next to nothing because they know I can’t get it done without them, right?

 

You know what? I’m keeping my wrenches. I remember what it was like without them and now I can fend for myself.

Besides, I have a life to save. My Lotus Europa