Just forget the words and sing along

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Of Block Heaters and Long Underwear

Ya know, it's been so long since I've done a blog about my life. Let's do one!

Cars are one of those pieces of technology that we take for granted. We use them far too much, failing to take care of them, and when we fail to take care of them, they fail us.

I wake up this morning, all gung ho to head into Edmonton and do my Christmas shopping. I know, some people think I'm insane. I've had dozens of people say to me, "It's December 1! You're just now starting your Christmas shopping? That's insane!" Well, I am in a bad position here. Most of what I want to get people is only available in Edmonton, and, being a news reporter, I'm far too afraid that I'll miss something that I wind up working a lot of weekends when I really don't need to.

So, here we were. Saturday, December 2. I head outside. I see that it hit -35 in the night. But I'm unafraid. After all, I plugged in my car! I jump in the car, I put the key in the ignition, I turn the key and...

The car doesn't start.

I try again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

My car just wouldn't start.

I start freaking out. I needed help. And, I'm still enough of a family-oriented guy, that when I need help, I call home. I explain the situation to my dad, and he tells me to try it again in a little bit, and then update him.

An hour later, I head out to the car. Once again, I put the key in the ignation. Once again, I turn the key. And once again, the car doesn't start.

So I try again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Nuthin.

I update Dad. Dad says he's jupming in his pick-up full of tools and coming up to check things out. Dad also tells me to start calling around for garages.

I'm starting to worry a bit, and when I worry a bit, I find that a nice, long walk relaxes me. Besides, I don't have a phone book. So I walked to the radio station. It takes me about half-an-hour, as it usually does. When I get to the station, I check the weather websites and see that temperatures in Athabasca have climbed to a balmy -33.

I flip open the phone book to find that Athabasca has a woeful lack of garages. I call the boss and co-workers for which the best ones are. I start calling around, only to find that Athabasca is just small enough that a significant portion of its businesses close on weekends...including all the garages.

When I was asking my co-workers for help, one of them suggested that maybe all my car needed was a boost. I took him up on his offer, but asked that he pick me up at the station. I didn't want another walk through the -33 weather. We tried boosting my little car, but to no avail.

Nothing to do but wait for Dad.

Yay! Dad's here! Dad and I chat for a bit, I share my problems, and Dad and I get to work. After hearing the sounds the car makes when I try to start it, Dad figures that maybe it just needs a boost. So, we try boosting it again. Nuthin. We try again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Nuthin.

Now, while we were trying all this, we flooded the engine pretty bad. And, as it was now 1pm, we decided we should take a lunch break. Once again, we made sure all the block heater connections were nice and tight. The car was never unplugged through all this.

Dad and I went and had lunch. then, we tooled around Athabasca for a while, visually confirming that yes, all the garages are closed on weekends.

We head back to try one more time. We hook it up to the pick-up to once again boost it. All the juice we can get, Dad reasoned. I put the key in. I turn the ignition. The engine turns over, but fails to take off. I turn the key again. The engine turns and turns and turns, but doesn't take off. Dad says, "Just keep it turning. It just might warm up and take off on its own."

And that's exactly what I do. It turns and chugs and turns and chugs and finally....

My car starts.

By now, it's 3 in the afternoon. Dad and I let it run for a long time to let it warm up. We then go driving around Athabasca, to make sure nothing else is wrong.

Based on the problem, and the sounds the engine was making, Dad came up with two hypotheses:

1) The starter is on its last legs, and I should get it looked at ASAP.
2) The block heater is shot, so even though it was plugged in, it did no good.

Either way, the solution is the same: get it staright into a garage as soon as they open on Monday.

As I write this, I'm at work. Since my day of Christmas shopping never happened, I volunteered to work tonight's Oilers game. My car is in the parking lot. Whether it'll start when it's time to go home, I have no idea. As I check the temperature, it's been warming up all day and is now a toasty -18.

But I am prepared! When my car started going, I went crusing around Athabasca, and stopped at Fields, and I bought...long underwear!

That's right. For the first time since I was 7 years old and heavy into tobogganing, I'm wearing long johns. This is in case I'm reduced to foot again and have to walk home.

I hate being a grown up. No one told me I'd have grown up problems.

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