vituperation

Happy Anniversary to my wife. We’ve been married for as many years as we have cats, if you count the two that aren’t ours.

Yesterday morning I woke with a dark cloud hanging over me, a peculiar niggling that followed me around as I worked out, showered, got ready for work, and let the chickens out. The cloud tailed my car all the to Huntsville and parked itself over my head when I sat down at my desk.

I felt like a loser.

Seriously, what kind of man can’t even remove two bolts to take the starter off a truck? It’s not like the truck is all foreign and modern and chock full of computers. It’s a big hunk of 14-year-old steel, bulky and blocky, and fairly simple in its operation. Especially the starter. Hell, it’s just a bigger version of the little motors I grew up with in my Erector sets.

It ate at me for about an hour, until I finally called Robyn with a plan.

“I need your okay to do something,” I said.

“What?”

“It’s really bugging me that I couldn’t take the starter off.”

I launched into a long description of how I thought a set of wrenches — I had three adjustable wrenches, two socket wrenches, three sets of sockets, but not a single monkey wrench — would help me get some better torque. On Monday, the socket kept slipping because I couldn’t get it on there well because of the tight space around the starter, and the slipping had started to round the bolt-head.

“So I thought I would run over to Harbor Freight when they open and look for a cheap set,” I said. “The reason I want your okay is because if I try this, it might end up costing us $50 more in the long run if it doesn’t work.”

I have a love-hate relationship with Harbor Freight. My general opinion is that their tools are of the quality one would find at a flea market, and as such, I don’t see myself buying power tools there. I love me some DeWalt power tools, and they cost considerably more than the $29 specials at Harbor Freight. They also last a lifetime.

Yes, I’m a power tool snob, I know.

Something like monkey wrenches, on the other hand, that won’t see a lot of use and don’t need to be higher-end — as far as I’m concerned, that’s what Harbor Freight is for.

I figured it would be smarter of me to get a cheap set than an expensive one, in case things didn’t work out. I ended up getting a 14-piece set of combination wrenches and a set of deep sockets, the latter because I thought I could get in better with one of those than with a regular socket and an extension.

At home, I quickly changed clothes and slid under the truck with a handful of wrenches and sockets. Ten minutes later I slid out:

My manhood is still intact

Before getting out of the car at Advance Auto, I put on my man face and got ready for the game. With a deep breath, I picked up the starter lying beside me and went inside.

“I need to get a starter tested,” I said, and held the starter up in case no one knew what a starter was.

A guy took the starter from me and we walked back to the testing equipment. We made small man-talk about how well Ford stuff holds up while he hooked the starter up. When he flipped the switch on the tester, the starter whirred to life and the voltage meter on the equipment leaped to twelve. On, off, on, off, and each time the starter, um, started.

“Starter works just fine,” he said.

“Man, I thought for sure that was it. I know it’s not the battery, and the relay’s working just fine. This was the next step in the chain, and I just knew it was the problem. I don’t know what to check now.”

“What’s it doing?”

“It won’t start. All I get is the click of the relay. If the relay works, and the starter works, it seems like the problem would be the wire, right?”

I was quite proud of myself, having my first real greasemonkey conversation ever.

“Could be,” he said.

He pointed to the connector on the starter where the wire from the relay goes.

“Ford’s had a problem with this connection,” he said. “In their later models, they don’t even connect like this. They’ve removed the tab and everything just butts up together. Before you try replacing the wire, try cleaning off these contacts and coating them with dielectric grease. See if that’s your problem. If that doesn’t work, try touching the voltmeter here with it all hooked up and see if you’re getting a charge.”

“You guys have dielectric grease?” I asked, as though I knew what the hell it was.

They did, and sold me a small packet for $1.06. I thanked them and left.

Back home, I checked on the status of dinner to make sure I still had a few minutes. I was itching to get back to testing. It took about five minutes to get the starter back in place with all the leads greased and attached, and I crawled out from under the truck with all my tools. Interestingly, I never needed the combination wrenches at all, the deep sockets were just what the doctor ordered.

I climbed behind the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition. I crossed my fingers.

I turned the key.

Jezebel roared to life.

Tools: $38. Dielectric grease: $1.06.

The joy of doing it myself: Priceless.

I am currently fighting the urge to go buy the Chilton manual for my truck, so I can start taking the engine apart to find things that need fixing.

Really.

Aaaaaaaand….reason number 78: