Picture this: March in Charlotte North Carolina. It's starting to warm up, the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming and you are driving a beautiful (cough, hack, laugh) rental Ford Focus. The previous driver was a smoker with a hairy, drooly dog. You should be driving your beloved Ford Ranger, but alas, it is in the shop. Again. Fro transmission work. Again. You would think that by now this would be a normal occurrence. It had just been in the shop, rebuilt, last month. This time, they don't know what the problem is, or why it will not start. Everything is in order. All of the gears are fine. The guy you had fix it seemed to have done a great job. So why, I ask is my mother f-ing truck not starting every time. "Can't answer that for y'all. I'm sorry. It worked fine for me." Does my truck hate me? He definitely seems to. I just don't understand. I change his oil every 3,000 miles. I have stopped putting 700 miles a week on it. So why does he strand me in the middle of the bad part of town on the day that all of my friends and family are out of town? Damn that Murphy and his stupid law. Before I get into how I finally fixed it (oh, and it is pretty clever), maybe I should begin at the beginning. I had my transmission fixed in 2002, about a year after I purchased it. I was happy to finally have the thing fixed, since the first time I brought it in was less than a month after I bought it, brand new with 44 miles on it. I love my truck, so even though I could have gotten a new one under the New York State Lemon law, I stuck with it. It worked fine (more or less) for about the next five years. Then one day while riving home on the Interstate, he downshifts. I can no longer do the 75 miles an hour I am doing. So I exit. I don't know where I am, but I am not about to do one of those old people things, while driving a truck that says 'Lil Tough One' on the windshield. I make my way home, mostly in first gear. I call my dad about it. He tells me it sounds like I need to get some fixing of it done (no sh*t Sherlock- thanks for the help). He drives down the next day to take it in. He has fun driving it too; it will not stay in any gear, let alone first for him. When we had to turn around because we missed the shop, he had fun trying to make it stay in reverse. $2000 later, I had my truck back. A month later, I was complaining to my husband that my truck wouldn't start at the grocery store. He didn't believe it was a problem with the truck, but rather with y driving style. I wasn't driving. I couldn't get that far. In October (stay with me now, this is about 6 months after my tranny was rebuilt) we went to a corn Maize. We suck at mazes. Four hours later, we are miraculously out of the hell the historical society calls fun, and hungry. We have our mountain bikes in the bed of the truck, with intentions of going for a ride after we eat the lunch that we have bee starving for the past three hours. My husband puts the key in the ignition. The radio turns on, the truck does not. Again. Same deal. So now he knows the problem is not with me, it actually is the truck. Now is not the time o say I told you so. We are both hungry, angry at the stupid maze, and somewhat at each other, but now, now I finally have proof that the weekly problem I have been having with my truck is real. I had taken it in a few times, towed twice, while he was out of town (gotta love AAA) with the service people telling me nothing is wrong with it. Never mind the fact that I had to tow it to the shop because the thing wouldn�t start! With my husband behind the wheel now though, he is going to get something done. They always listen to guys, never to me, even though I know more about my truck than every man I know, other than my father who was the one to teach me everything. A man sees the hood popped open (good job honey, you keep looking under that hood and tell me when you find the problem), and asks if we need help. The husband explains the problem; the guy says it�s probably the starter. This is where I take over. There are no clicks, it�s not the starter. It�s not he ignition because the lights and radio all come on like normal. I can tell you what it is not, but I can not tell you what it is. It has to be something transmission related, given the previous record of my truck, but everyone says it looks great. The guy tells me t shift it into neutral. I do, it starts. �My wife had the same problem with her explorer. Sometimes it just doesn�t realize it�s in park.� That man saved my husbands life. If we had been stuck there in the middle of a corn field for much longer, I would have killed him for not believing me earlier. On a happy note, now I use my e-brake every time I park, but now that I know the problem, my truck has started every time. I know he is just cooking up something new to do to me so I get stranded in the middle of nowhere again. He is just waiting for the perfect opportunity.
A D V E R T I S E M E N T S
Picture this: March in Charlotte North Carolina. It's starting to warm up, the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming and you are driving a beautiful (cough, hack, laugh) rental Ford Focus. The previous driver was a smoker with a hairy, drooly dog. You should be driving your beloved Ford Ranger, but alas, it is in the shop. Again. Fro transmission work. Again. You would think that by now this would be a normal occurrence. It had just been in the shop, rebuilt, last month. This time, they don't know what the problem is, or why it will not start. Everything is in order. All of the gears are fine. The guy you had fix it seemed to have done a great job. So why, I ask is my mother f-ing truck not starting every time. "Can't answer that for y'all. I'm sorry. It worked fine for me." Does my truck hate me? He definitely seems to. I just don't understand. I change his oil every 3,000 miles. I have stopped putting 700 miles a week on it. So why does he strand me in the middle of the bad part of town on the day that all of my friends and family are out of town? Damn that Murphy and his stupid law. Before I get into how I finally fixed it (oh, and it is pretty clever), maybe I should begin at the beginning. I had my transmission fixed in 2002, about a year after I purchased it. I was happy to finally have the thing fixed, since the first time I brought it in was less than a month after I bought it, brand new with 44 miles on it. I love my truck, so even though I could have gotten a new one under the New York State Lemon law, I stuck with it. It worked fine (more or less) for about the next five years. Then one day while riving home on the Interstate, he downshifts. I can no longer do the 75 miles an hour I am doing. So I exit. I don't know where I am, but I am not about to do one of those old people things, while driving a truck that says 'Lil Tough One' on the windshield. I make my way home, mostly in first gear. I call my dad about it. He tells me it sounds like I need to get some fixing of it done (no sh*t Sherlock- thanks for the help). He drives down the next day to take it in. He has fun driving it too; it will not stay in any gear, let alone first for him. When we had to turn around because we missed the shop, he had fun trying to make it stay in reverse. $2000 later, I had my truck back. A month later, I was complaining to my husband that my truck wouldn't start at the grocery store. He didn't believe it was a problem with the truck, but rather with y driving style. I wasn't driving. I couldn't get that far. In October (stay with me now, this is about 6 months after my tranny was rebuilt) we went to a corn Maize. We suck at mazes. Four hours later, we are miraculously out of the hell the historical society calls fun, and hungry. We have our mountain bikes in the bed of the truck, with intentions of going for a ride after we eat the lunch that we have bee starving for the past three hours. My husband puts the key in the ignition. The radio turns on, the truck does not. Again. Same deal. So now he knows the problem is not with me, it actually is the truck. Now is not the time o say I told you so. We are both hungry, angry at the stupid maze, and somewhat at each other, but now, now I finally have proof that the weekly problem I have been having with my truck is real. I had taken it in a few times, towed twice, while he was out of town (gotta love AAA) with the service people telling me nothing is wrong with it. Never mind the fact that I had to tow it to the shop because the thing wouldn�t start! With my husband behind the wheel now though, he is going to get something done. They always listen to guys, never to me, even though I know more about my truck than every man I know, other than my father who was the one to teach me everything. A man sees the hood popped open (good job honey, you keep looking under that hood and tell me when you find the problem), and asks if we need help. The husband explains the problem; the guy says it�s probably the starter. This is where I take over. There are no clicks, it�s not the starter. It�s not he ignition because the lights and radio all come on like normal. I can tell you what it is not, but I can not tell you what it is. It has to be something transmission related, given the previous record of my truck, but everyone says it looks great. The guy tells me t shift it into neutral. I do, it starts. �My wife had the same problem with her explorer. Sometimes it just doesn�t realize it�s in park.� That man saved my husbands life. If we had been stuck there in the middle of a corn field for much longer, I would have killed him for not believing me earlier. On a happy note, now I use my e-brake every time I park, but now that I know the problem, my truck has started every time. I know he is just cooking up something new to do to me so I get stranded in the middle of nowhere again. He is just waiting for the perfect opportunity.
- Shawnalee S., Charlotte, NC, US