Stalled

I wanted a second opinion from my dad about what I believed to be a leaky front rear tire on my car, but other than that I was ready to hit the road and return home this morning. Then a funny thing happened. Click click click. The car wouldn't turn over. The battery was dead. Sure, it had been chilly the previous few days, but it wasn't that cold.

The mechanic in my parents' small town is only a few blocks away, so we jumpstarted my car and took it over to be checked out. Answers: the battery was bad, and the tire I had refilled on Thanksgiving was low. So the morning hours I intended to spend on the road found the car getting an oil change, a new battery, and a patched tire. All three were needed, but before this morning I was only certain of the first.

Walking to my parents' house and back to the mechanic's, I felt a twinge of longing for the small town experience. I also felt it when briefly strolling the streets of Blackduck, Minnesota this summer or walking the main drag in Cooperstown, New York.

I grew up in a small town with its short Main Street and sense of self-containment. As a kid that was an appealing quality. I had a small, set aside place that I could wander without restriction. There was a feeling of belonging somewhere that sort of existed as an island among the fields of corn and soybeans. What was great for me as a kid probably would feel stifling as an adult.

There's a reason why movies and TV (and politicians) tend to romanticize such places. At a time when people in general feel like they have less control over what happens in their lives, wouldn't it be great to live where everyone knows one another and pulls together with a cheerful, harmonious community pride? Wouldn't it be great to be able to walk out your front door and get a bite to eat at a small, local restaurant where you are known by name and lineage and where you can pop into the single screen movie theater that's a mere stone's throw away?

Yeah, that would be great, but that's not necessarily what small towns are but what they're idealized as being. I've seen the movies and know how these places are portrayed is mostly bunk, yet there I was still wanting to believe the beautiful lie.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that small towns are terrible places. I'll likely always have some affection for these little burgs and dream of their imaginary perfection. Visiting, not residing, allows such charms to remain rooted.

On repeat

Trust me, I'm sick of writing about car repairs, but I landed yet another costly one today, so I have to gripe about it some.

The passenger door's failure to unlock electrically or manually was determined not to be related to when my car was broken into. Congratulations, you've won another expensive car repair!

This situation is beyond aggravating. The entire point of getting a new vehicle (in used car form) was to have something reliable that wouldn't need things fixed constantly. Today's repair brings the total to three in the three months I've owned it, with all three coming in approximately the past month. (I'm not counting the broken window from the theft.) All have necessitated taking the car to a dealership and thus paying through the nose. And this is on a car that had just barely passed it's relatively low warranty mileage before I bought it.

OK, so I've just run into a string of misfortune with the car--it drives fine, by the way--but it's so far past ridiculous that I don't have any sense of humor about it.

Lifted

The day did not get off to the best of starts. Late last night I was convinced that my apartment was blowing cool air when the heat was on. Someone came out from the apartment complex and claims to find no problems. For heat, it sure doesn't feel very warm, but it seems to be moving the thermostat up.

But that's a problem for which any possible repairs are not being paid directly out of my pocket. Which means that, you guessed it, my car has manifested another problem. The front passenger door will not unlock and cannot be opened manually. (Believe me, I've tried.) When pressing the unlock button on the remote and in the car, the lock will move like it's supposed to but immediately bounces back into a partially locked position. It's as though something's in there blocking it's path to an unlocked state.

Obviously this automotive development does not please me one bit. The saving grace is that it could be related to when my car was broken into three weeks ago. If it's related to broken glass getting into the door, then insurance ought to take care of it. That's what my hope hinges on.

Luckily my day ended with seeing Andrew Bird and St. Vincent in concert. Talk about a relaxing night of music. It wasn't as intimate or mellow as the five-song set in the video I've posted below, but the show was a terrific demonstration of two fine artists in peak form. I highly recommend checking out the video.



All but the final song ("Your Lips are Red") of St. Vincent's 45-minute set were drawn from her second (and current) album. Annie Clark and band put together a smoother sounding show than what I saw from them in Newport, KY in June. There were a few noisy flourishes, particularly on the last song, but it seemed like some of the roughness was toned down to jibe with the headliner and the Southern Theatre, a great and gorgeous venue that's the polar opposite of the typical rock club.

Although Clark joined Bird for three songs, including a cover of Bob Dylan's "Oh, Sister" for the encore, and the rest of her band came on stage for a couple songs, the stage was Bird's and Bird's alone for most of his set. He's essentially a one man band who records and loops various violin, guitar, and whistling parts as the layered accompaniment to his singing and live instrument playing. He builds the songs on stage by recording each part there and then adding another and another. It probably shouldn't work as well as it does, but the effect is seeing how songs come to life and hearing the different parts within the collective sound.

All in all, it was about two and a half hours of music wonderfully performed and sung. As poorly as the day began, it concluded quite pleasantly thanks to these talented musicians.

Not something else

I thought I'd turned a corner in my woeful tale of automotive aggravation. The adjuster took a look at the car this morning and told me what he could give me for some superficial damage--minor nicks--on the dash because of the radio theft. That was a pleasant surprise as it's money unrelated to replacing the radio. Someone else will be contacting me about that.

So I was feeling pretty good about how the situation is being handled. Then late this afternoon/early this evening I was sitting in my apartment and heard a car alarm going off.

Don't. Tell. Me. It's. Something. Else.

Sure enough, that's my car horn bleating and the lights flashing. I turned it off and took a look around the vehicle. I don't notice anything out of the ordinary or anyone around. Truth be told, it would be pretty bold for someone to be attempting to break into it in broad daylight when most people are returning home from work. I don't think that's what happened.

Instead, my fear was much deeper. This triggered alarm surely means that something electrical is wrong. Whether it's related to the break-in or the new instrument cluster, I can't say. I didn't know if the thief fiddled with the alarm, but I thought it might be worth having checked out. I had no clue where to look, so I thought it was a question worth raising to the insurance company. Better to raise the potential for it now than a week or month down the road.

The person I talked to in claims didn't have an answer for my question and thus directed me to the adjuster. I left a message and expect to hear from him in the morning.

In the meantime I thought about it and wondered if there was the off chance that the arrangement of keys in my pocket might have set it off. I wasn't exactly close to the car, but maybe I was close enough for it reach? Yes, by now I'm completely paranoid about what may go wrong with the car.

I headed out for knit night and took along the GPS, not because I needed directions but so I could listen to the voice periodically. The eerie silence when driving without a radio leaves me listening to every little creak and noise. This feeds my currently anxious state. The voice navigation was to be my distraction.

I shared the story of this latest development and my theories as to what might be the cause of the phantom alarm with one of my fellow knitters. She called her fiancé, who shot down most of my theories. The rational explanation, which is testable, is that somehow I unknowingly pressed the alarm button on the key fob.

I'm feeling better about this being the most logical answer for what happened, although tonight I may sleep restlessly with an ear cocked toward the parking lot. At the rate which this car has generated drama, I feel like I need to be doubly prepared for something out of the ordinary to occur.

Remnants

Updates and a leftover from this week's blogging...

I intended to drop by the local yarn shop when I was in Nelsonville. I had e-mailed the shop owner to confirm the store's Thursday hours but didn't see the response until after I returned from the trip. On top of that the store either moved locations from when I was last in the town or I misremembered. The storefront where I expected to find it was empty. Of course, I hadn't bothered to check the address. Oops.

As for the dashboard issues I've mentioned with my car, it's not good. The dealership technicians finally were able to identify that the instrument cluster is bad. According to them it's not a matter of moisture or a leak ruining it, which I suppose is good. It's just a bad break that I bought a used car in good condition with low mileage that had this sort of failure shortly after the purchase. Still, I'm none too pleased about this expensive repair on top of fixing the trunk latch this week.

I will be writing to the manufacturer to complain. Something like the instrument cluster shouldn't be failing this soon. Web searches have turned up this problem in the same model, so I figure it's worth voicing my displeasure. I'm not expecting to get anything, but it can't hurt to try.

I'm one knitting session away from finishing the scarf I have on the needles. Yes, it should have been finished already, but being out of town one night and dealing with the car a couple times this week got in the way.

Repair despair

Returning to knit night has given me a set period of time to work on projects, but outside of those evenings my knitting hasn't been terribly frequent, save for fleeting moments of inspiration. Mainly it comes down to feeling like I have so much going on that I don't do anything.

Tonight I made sure to sit down and knit for a couple hours while listening to not-so-good commentary tracks on the 30 Rock DVDs. I needed to blow off some steam and improve my mood because my car threw a couple more surprises at me today. Keep in mind that I purchased this used vehicle slightly more than two months ago--it's the newest car I've ever owned and has the least mileage on any I've driven--so unexpected repairs are not welcome.

While out during lunch I noticed that the miles on the odometer had disappeared. In its place was a service code of some sort. Per my dashboard issues a couple weeks ago and the rain the last couple days, this wasn't exactly a surprise, but it wasn't something I was pleased to have happen.

Then, after putting some things in the trunk, I found that it wouldn't latch. What the...?! I took it to a dealership again. Once more they couldn't tell me anything about the electrical issues in the dash because the service code was not displayed and they didn't know what it meant. They won't do anything until they can see the symptom themselves.

The latch? They were more than happy to fix that at a deflating cost...and oh by the way we don't have the part and probably can't do it until Friday. At this point I'm hoping the car will show this stupid electrical issue so they can take care of it then too. I'm not happy about the money it's costing and was in a foul mood after leaving the dealership--the appalling cable TV news in the waiting room didn't help matters--so I knew I needed to knit to get over the repairs.

While I did have the knitting in my messenger bag and could have worked on it in the waiting room, I confess that I chose not to take it out. Right or wrong, I feel like doing that would peg me as a sucker to get taken for a bigger ride on repair costs. I could have used the stress relief then, though.

Here comes the rain again

I like the rain. It's relaxing to listen to the steady fall of water when trying to get to sleep. When I've run in races in the summer I've hoped for a light rain to keep me cool.

But rain and I have been at odds too. There are times when I tense up and worry when it rains. The ceiling in my old apartment developed some pretty serious leaks, including several in one spot. Eventually my landlord had someone come to repair it, but wouldn't you know that the rain started leaking through again? It was fixed a couple more times and finally took, but sure enough, leaks in other parts of the apartment appeared. This went on for well more than a year.

After the problem was fixed for good, it was still common for the sound of rain to provoke the tightening of my upper body and and intent listening for dripping water. That response--rain PTSD of a sort--even carried over to where I now live. I don't worry about it as much now, although last September's windstorm, which sheared plenty of shingles from the roof, revived old fears.

Worry about leaks extended to my previous car. Water would get in around the doors and sun roof. I thought such problems were behind me, but it would seem that may not be the case.

For now the rain gives me a new cause for concern. The past couple days have brought some decent rains. This morning I pressed the remote entry button to unlock my car but nothing happened. The car started fine, but when I arrived at work and turned it off, an in-car alarm sounded and lights on the dash flickered. This is without the key in the ignition. It wasn't displaying any signs of stopping.

I took it to my mechanic, who mentioned that this particular model is known for water getting into the dash at the windshield and around the air intake and pollen filter. (Hmm, my car did have a lot of condensation on the windshield while the one next to me in the parking lot at home had none.) He recommended taking the car to a dealership for repair and suggested that a recall might be out regarding this problem. Sure enough, a quick search online showed that this appears to be a common problem, although no recall exists.

I took it to a dealership near me so I could be at home while they tinkered. Of course I fretted about the expense and the aggravation of this happening with a recently purchased car that is not under warranty.

Here's the thing: the car would not replicate this aberrant behavior when the technicians looked at it. The good news is that whatever was wrong is no longer occurring, everything seemed to check out, AND I was not charged anything for their explorations into the problem. The bad news is that now any time we get sufficient rain I'm going to worry that this will crop up again. Indeed, blame it on the rain.

Auto focus

To me the car is mostly what gets me where I'm going and not much more. I've liked some cars more than others, but ultimately the main thing I have invested in the vehicle is its reliability. Maybe that's what made my parting with each of my previous cars relatively easy.

There was the 1982 Datsun 200SX (owned August 1992-August 1996). It was my first and, let's face it, my favorite. The $600 purchase price didn't hurt, but that car had horsepower AND a woman's voice that delivered information ("the door is ajar). It was kind of like owning KITT. I hated to get rid of it, but it broke down on the side of the interstate one night and then had the hatchback window shattered when someone threw a beer bottle at it. (Luckily I wasn't in the car at the time.) With glass all over the interior and who knows what to repair under the hood, it had to go.

Next was the 1987 Toyota Corolla (August 1996-March 1998). Call it a rebound car, again purchased for $600. The first major problem I encountered with it was antifreeze leaking into the oil. Not good. That eventually seemed to be patched, but then the clutch went. It wasn't worth putting additional money into it, and I wasn't sad to see it go.

My third car, a 1990 Ford Taurus (March 1998-April 2004), had been totalled and rebuilt by someone my dad knew. Considering how long I did have it, perhaps it was worth the chance taken on it, although I remember it having its share of issues. Again, when the time came, there was no question I needed to move on. A dead cylinder will do that.

My current car, a 1997 Saturn (April 2004-???) has treated me well despite having more miles on it than I preferred when I bought it. I've only ever had to have regular and routine maintenance done on it. In that way it's probably been the best car I've owned. I'd been hoping to maybe get another year or so out of it, but today I think I've decided that the time to call it quits may be soon.

You see, the car is bucking, a problem that seems unrelated to the transmission. It started a little more than a week ago and has been stressing me out since. While it accelerates fine, I'm worried that whatever is underneath the hood that wants to leap forward--I can feel it--is going to cause me to get stranded or worse.

If this unidentified problem were the only thing in need of repair, perhaps I wouldn't be so hasty to break it off, but there are plenty of other issues that could use addressing but would be prohibitively expensive for a car with 192,000+ miles on it. So I've decided, more or less, that we've had a good run, but I'll be better off moving on.

The car buying process isn't something I enjoy. Ideally I would get another year or year and a half out of my current car. Fingers crossed, at least this time I might be able to end things on my terms rather than being in a situation in which I have a vehicle that won't operate and must find a replacement.

Where is my mind?

The eve of Election Day feels a little like Christmas Eve in that the big day seems like it's taken forever to get here. I can't say for certain--and I'm too lazy to look it up--but I'd wager we've had two Christmases since this long journey began. Perhaps it was better that I had better things than politics with which to preoccupy myself today. I might have exploded with cautious optimism otherwise. So where has my mind been?

-My car

I make no claims on my automotive knowledge, but I take some satisfaction in identifying that the serpentine belt was indeed part of the problem with the screeching hell on wheels that my car became Saturday night. (Seriously, I was embarrassed to be in the driver's seat and sitting in traffic while the vehicle screamed like a banshee. For that matter, it was painful to my ears at times.)

Unfortunately, that was merely a symptom of a greater problem. The spring in the tensioner broke, which in turn caused the belt to get chewed up. While I wasn't thrilled to shell out more than I'd anticipated to get the car fixed--who is?-- but it would appear that I also caught a break. The faulty tensioner could have caused other items to stop operating, which potentially could have led to catastrophic engine failure. Yikes.

So, as perturbed as I was that this car problem emerged, I'm relieved that I didn't drive much after noticing it and got it fixed without incurring major damage (and probably the need for a new car). All in all, the local mechanic charges fair prices and gets the work done quickly, so this was a lot less painful than it might have been. Sometimes it pays to admit that you don't know what you're doing and leave it to the professionals. I have no problem doing that with cars.

-More student drama

I hoped that the drama from last week might have dissipated by now. If it has--and I'm not certain it has--more stuff took its place. Gossip and other social interaction conflicts are stirring the pot. Small schools have their advantages, but these qualities are not part of them. There was also an issue with some serious work study timesheet padding that I had to address. Ugh. Anything else you want to throw at me today?

-Election volunteering

I've offered to volunteer on Election Day, although how much I'll be needed in the capacity I'm willing to work is up in the air. I've been told that they need people to knock on doors, which I'm leery about doing considering my job. I've donated some supplies, although I'm disappointed in myself for not doing as much as I'd planned.

-Knitting

My brother's scarf is 44.5 inches long after one skein. I'm satisfied with how it's turning out, but I admit that the ridiculously simple pattern is starting to bore me.

-Blogging

I've been kicking around the idea of liveblogging Tuesday, but I'm not sure what I'll be doing or how frequently I'll have access to a computer. I haven't decided whether I should bother going to the big Democratic party downtown (where I'm unlikely to know anyone anyway) or stay home to watch the returns (where I'll miss out on the group celebra....I can't say it just it). My decision regarding where I'll be in the evening will be a major factor, so I guess all I can say is that if you see an entry with individual times and comments on it, check back as I'm probably updating it throughout the day.

The long Sunday

Daylight savings time meant today was for falling back. What a weird day this 25-hour day has been.

It's not that anything exceptional happened. I only got to one of two movies I intended to see, and I had a hard afternoon nap. Other than those non-stories, the biggest development was an unwelcome one.

Last night I noticed--it would have been hard not to--a noise coming from underneath my car's hood. Based on my preliminary assessment of the sound, I thought maybe I needed more power steering fluid. I couldn't tell where the line for full was, but I quickly discovered that I probably exceeded it.

Turning the steering wheel was a workout for awhile. Of course, my car still sounded like a shrieking angel of death. My best--and, let's face it, terribly uninformed--guess is that the serpentine belt is acting up. I just had it replaced at the end of January, so I'm not sure why it's already turned my car into a mobile noise ordinance violation.

The time change means that it gets dark, well, an hour earlier. By 6:30 p.m. it felt like the dead of night. I've slipped into that state where if you removed all timepieces from view, I'd have no idea when it is. While necessary, that nap probably means I've goofed up my sleeping pattern even more.

Thankfully, I did find time to knit for the first time since Thursday. I've finished half of the scarf in progress and shouldn't need more than another hour or so to polish off the first skein. I'd hoped to cast on for a new pair of socks this weekend, but the opportunity didn't present itself. Thanks to LittleWit's persistence at knit night--she gets a gold star for her efforts--the sock that refused to be frogged has finally been unwound, though. Am I courting trouble if I set Thanksgiving as a target date for actually finishing socks from this yarn?

All's well that ends well

(Writer's note: In retrospect, the following car repair stuff is a lot longer than I intended. Feel free to skip ahead to the knitting content if the journal-type stuff bores you.)

If my mood today were plotted on a graph, the resulting image would look like a check mark. I wasn't going to mess around with the "service engine soon" light and took the car to a dealership for an oil change and a diagnosis of what triggered that blasted light.

As a rule I never go to a dealership for repair work. Too expensive. I have a local mechanic I trust and who charges reasonable prices. In this case I had a free oil change certificate. That gain was offset by the fiftysomething dollars it cost for them to hook up the car to a computer to determine the source of the problem.

Expecting the worst, I knitted in the waiting area and tried to block out the horrid daytime television blaring in front of me. Although I thought I might have a bead on the car maintenance issue, my general belief about this sort of thing nagged at me. It's going to be bad, and it's going to be expensive.

The service consultant approached me with the recommended treatment plan. Before he started, my eyes drifted to the bottom of the sheet and popped out of their sockets. I saw an estimate subtotal of $2227.65.

I do not feel confident dealing with automotive repair workers because I usually don't know what they're talking about and have the niggling sense that they're trying to pull the wool over my eyes. This was an incredible estimate. I already knew that I wouldn't be having any work done at the dealership, which tempered my initial reaction of full-blown panic. The light was tripped by a faulty EGR valve. Something to do with emissions. Beats me.

I examined the report while I waited for the oil change to be completed. My mood improved incrementally the longer I looked at the paperwork. Best I could tell, many of the suggested repairs were unnecessary for the car to continue running as it has been. This EGR valve was still more than I had been anticipating spending, but it was a far sight less than twenty-two hundred bucks.

One thing that did pass their inspection was the shocks and struts. I found that interesting since the last place that did my oil change said I probably ought to have them replaced soon. No wonder I distrust those who work on cars.

I called my mechanic to get an estimate on the EGR valve and to see if he could fit me in today. When I told him what needed replaced and the number of miles on my car, he said that he didn't think I needed to bother with it. I feel relieved, to say the least.

The day ended on a high note when I found a package on my doorstep tonight. It was from my International Scarf Exchange 5 secret pal in Australia!

I was impressed with the care taken in wrapping each item individually. I regret to say that I went to no such effort in sending mine. Inside I found my scarf, of course. (Better pictures to come. This isn't representative at all of the color.)

Some stitch markers my pal made...

And chocolate biscuits and yarn.

This made my day. My pal did a wonderful job. The scarf is beautiful. While the fringe surely wasn't as difficult as the pattern, I'm amazed at how it was attached because I have a hard time with it. (That's why you rarely see it on scarves I knit.) The stitch markers will be very handy. I'll have to brainstorm a good project for the yarn. I'll try to practice some discipline and not eat all of the biscuits in a flash. (To my knowledge they're no available in the US.)

Thanks very much Katherine!