My Car Keeps One Tire In Purgatory

If you want the definition of procrastination, you can see a solid example of it by examining the history of my car and its problems.

The last time I worked on my car was circa January 11th. But now that the weather is heating up to unbearable window-sealed levels, I’ve been forced to fix my driver’s side window ASAP.

Today I drove it to Josh’s work where he enjoys his career as an airplane mechanic. He offered to use his airplane-fixing tools to work on my faulty window regulator. Interestingly, while on the way to the airport, my car broke down 20 feet from our intended parking spot due to a completely unrelated radiator problem. So as of today, I can’t drive 1 mile without the engine overheating.

Thankfully, however, my window is now able to roll all the way up and all the way down, completely.

MVD Time

The MVD is never fun, so I psychologically prepared myself for a 2 hour sit-down session in a room full of people who want to be anywhere else but where they are. It’s always a test of sanity to be at the MVD, and this time at every 5 seconds, a robot (female voiced, thankfully) called out numbers, in a completely random order. My theory is that the MVD system seems to have utilized disorder to keep you distracted from how long you’ll really have to wait.

I had to renew my 4-months-overdue car registration. The desk ladies were all very nice, and after I told them my story about failing emissions tests, etc., they waived my past-due fees with smiles on their faces. 1.5 hours later, I placed the $37 sticker on my license plate and drove home. I spent a good portion of the day job-hunting with a strong sense of time-wasting. That’s what the jobless must do, because without money in this culture, a happy life happens elsewhere.

This routine is a lot like 2+2=5.

The things you own end up owning you.

That’s not my car, or my photo. But my car is definitely having lots of problems. Today it failed emissions, and I can’t renew the registration until it passes. If I get pulled over, not only would I be unable to roll down my window to hand the cop my license and registration, but the registration is overdue. In addition, those chaps at Jiffy Lube always try to upsell me with hundreds of dollars-worth of multiple parts I don’t need. Even after deflecting all of the Jiffy Lube kid’s incessant “special-offers”, it was still $38 for an oil change, and $30 for an emissions test. These moments can make one very irritated with overzealous, adolescent grease monkeys at Jiffy Lube, when really, one just wants to get along with others.

My choice to be less-educated about cars is coming with a high price, feeding the car-maintenance corporate machine that preys on the naïveté of American consumers. But hey! It’s great for the economy, we know that much! “Sign me up for overtime, Boss! I gots a car to git fickst!”

My DNA misses the forest, wearing animal skins, and hunting with a club.

Fun With Windows

A couple of days ago, my car window got stuck in the position that you see here. It’s kind of a bummer, because it’s cold driving at night. So, today I went to Roadrunner Auto Mart where Erin and her Dad Brad helped me diagnose the problem.

The window’s motor and regulator need to be replaced. So, like a monkey working on a car for the first time, I haphazardly unscrewed every bolt I saw to get the window loose, then Brad helped me wedge some pieces of wood into the door to hold the glass in the up-position until my part comes in.

Now, if I get pulled over, I won’t be able to roll down my window to hand the police officer my license and registration. I suppose I would have to shrug at him and kindly drive away. I’m sure he’d understand.