So we’ve been car-less for over a week now. One minute the LeSabre was your standard, people-moving vehicle, the next moment it was an unnecessarily large planter.
Just how many geraniums can you plant in a Buick LeSabre, anyway?
Vin, the man who has found himself trapped under the hood of our car in the past, has recently bought a house that may or may not slide down a hill in the next five years.
He’s got other things on his mind.
So we called Loud Randy.
According to T, Loud Randy can fix anything.
“Randy’s a little rough around the edges,” T said, “but no one knows an engine like he does. The man is like a dog with a bone – he’ll figure out what’s wrong with it if it’s the last thing he does.”
As of yesterday, the following items had been manipulated, adjusted, replaced on the car:
Sparks and wires
Lower intake manifold
Two head gaskets
After five days of this, – including one day where the police were called to settle a shouted dispute between him and a woman in the park that escalated to racial, sexual, and economic judgments on both their parts – Randy decided, apparently, that he was prepared to leave this mortal coil, and gave up.
There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.
So bring on Jon. Jon is Mary’s boyfriend, she of house-cleaning fame (see “My Weird Friends” for more on Mary – and, actually, T and Vin).
Jon and Mary stopped in Monday afternoon and Jon and William Throckmorton the III spent several hours under the hood.
According to Mary, Jon can fix anything.
Jon believes that the lower intake manifold gasket has been improperly placed.
I look forward to this.
In the meantime, the generosity of Kathy allowed us the use of her RAV 4, and for that, I am grateful. Because of her, we were able to transport pallets of flowers, bags and bags of groceries, and several kilos worth of high-grade heroin.
I probably shouldn’t tell Kathy about that.
This is a new week, isn’t it; and our luck on all things vehicular is sure to turn around.
And I look forward to this.
Season of the Buffalo
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