Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Those Without a Clue Find Blind Faith Useful

It helps to have a few obligations here and there in the realm of work and else--bills excluded. I do not find the same usefulness in obligations of that nature that some do. That's because I live with my head in the clouds, or so I was told once or twice. No argument.

That brings me to a pressing question: What the heck is synthetic oil made of if it isn't oil? I got a good deal so I put it in the car this time. Still determined to do the oil changes myself. After much worry and anxiety, I did the plugs last oil change. They aren't super easy to get to and I was worried about opening a can of worms, especially after reading some forum posts regarding changing plugs in a car like mine. Just like most math teachers, they made it seem more complicated than it is.

Finally, I decided I was being a wimp and underselling myself to think that I couldn't find a way to install plugs, not lose the socket down the deep abyss, and not cross thread the things even though they are 20 feet down in a hole. It was not much more trouble than changing oil.

See, that was an example of blind faith. I knew no one who had done it on this type car, and had no step by step guide. Experience and logic told me which wires went to the spark plugs, so, as is so often the case, I just followed the electricity. In hindsight I should have done it while the engine was running, then sued because no clearly legible placards in my language of choice were posted telling me not to change spark plugs while the engine is running. Where's John Edwards when you need him? Oh, I guess his late wife wondered the same thing.

Gives NC a bad name. Too bad. Tar Heels are the salt of the earth. Really.

In my defense, I will say I had to remove a thing or two; some of the stuff they have on late model cars whose purpose is either well disguised, unknown, or non existent. I love these new plugs whose electrodes don't look like the old type, and which don't require gapping. Made of plutonium or uranium or something. DO NOT EAT.

Once again, blind faith. How could I be sure these funny looking things would work at all? Ponder that while you eat my dust. A bit of Subris there. If you missed it, that's the condition of subaru smugness. Actually, I don't fit the Subaru mold any more than I fit the vegetarian stereotype. For that I am grateful, I think.

Stuck at page 100. Need to work out a few things and remove from mind any considerations of what anyone else will think, then I will plow on and finish this thing. Then I can write the other things that have come to mind. I better make notes about them before I forget. Or fall into another cycle of the blues. Yoyo man. That is what I tauntingly call myself these days. Then I resent myself for that and plot ways to beat myself up if I say it again.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day

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