He fall down and go BOOM!

I'm sorry, I know I'm 42 years old and shouldn't sink to such levels, but I'm also an idiot mechanic. (As you'll realize soon enough, Mrs. Fixer is a good, patient woman.) But President No Brain fell off his bike at his dirt farm in Texas. Not that he hurt anything, the only thing in his head is a 60 m.p.h. wind, but he did leave a divot on the trail.


Via Eschaton (Atrios is another guy you should read):

Too Easy

Today:

CRAWFORD, Texas (AP) President Bush suffered cuts and bruises early Saturday afternoon while mountain biking on his ranch. He was on the 16th mile of a 17-mile ride when he fell, said White House spokesman Trent Duffy.

Bush suffered minor abrasions and scratches on his chin, upper lip, nose, right hand, and both knees, Duffy said. The accident occurred while he was riding with members of the Secret Service and his personal physician, Dr. Richard Tubbs.

Thursday:

Iraqis are ready to "take the training wheels off" and assume political power from the U.S.-led coalition, President George W. Bush said Thursday as his administration began to roll out a rough plan for the June 30 transition of authority.

Ha, you deserve it, you lowlife chickenhawk prick! You shouldn't have made that "training wheels" remark about the Iraqis. These people are the ones who invented the term "Civilization" 5000 years ago, you ignorant moron. Bad Kharma, asshole!

Every 3000 miles-Revisited

It's 4:45 a.m. on Long Island and I'm awake. Not unusual in this house, Mrs. Fixer regularly gets up at 4 to catch a train to NYC and the Princess (our Australian Cattle Dog, Shayna) doesn't know about weekends, so we're all up. The good part is that my brain actually works pretty well at this time of day and I remembered something.

The point of getting your car serviced (oil change, but we'll go into the differences between oil changes and service later on) EVERY 3000 MILES is not so much to change the oil (it's very important never the less) but it's a chance for your mechanic to get to know your car.

Doctors will take offense, but just as an MD wants you to come in for regular check ups, your mechanic can see if anything is out of the ordinary. If he sees you every 3000 miles, he'll know your car, it's quirks, and he'll be able to warn you of impending problems.

Important note: There is a BIG difference between your local mechanic and your quickie oil change place. Your local repair shop is generally staffed with career men, guys who've been fixing cars since they were young, guys who've gone to the schools and received the latest training. The guy who makes minimum wage at an oil change place generally isn't, and sure won't tell you if your brakes are getting low or some other impending problem. Hint: Look for the blue and white ASE (Automotive Service Excellence) symbol hanging in the shop. If the guys took and passed the tests, they're probably serious about their vocation. You could go to a quickie place for 10 years and they probably wouldn't recognize you or your car if they fell over both of you in the street. Come to me twice and I'll greet you by name and know all about your car. (Well, maybe not ALL about it, the short-term memory thing I spoke about.)

I spoke of this earlier. Find a guy you like and stick with him. He might cost more than the quickie places, but he'll save you grief and money in the long run. He'll spot potential problems before they leave you stranded and in an emergency, he'll probably give you priority ahead of someone he doesn't know.

Service vs. Oil Change: An oil change is just that, remove the drain plug, drop the oil, change the filter, refill the oil, $9.95 please, have a good day, lady. Period. A service means, check the wipers, drive belts, coolant hoses, lights, signals, and tires BEFORE the oil gets drained. While it's draining, the brakes, front end, exhaust, and suspension get the look-see, checking for any defects or signs of impending doom. A service might run you close to 50 bucks, but your quickie oil change weenie won't come up to you and say, "Mrs. Jones, you car looks fine, but your brake pads are getting low. Why don't you make an appointment to get them changed before they ruin the rotors?" Yeah, Mrs. Jones got hit with a $45 bill for the service, but I just saved her about $150 on a brake job if I don't have to replace her rotors because I noticed her low brakes before she did. And she'd notice when she heard this horrible grinding sound when she hit the brakes a few weeks hence. (Pardon me while I pat myself on the back)

The quickie places are good, if you're driving on vacation and your oil change comes due. That's about it. The best is to have a regular guy you trust at a repair shop, just as you have a primary care physician. I'll post more later on what to look for when searching for a shop in your area. In the interim, EVERY 3000 MILES.

Our Servicewomen's Rights

I got a problem with this whole Christo-Fascist crowd that took over the government three years ago, especially when it affects our women in uniform this way.

Via Pandagon. (A couple insightful kids by the way, and on my daily reading list. They should be on yours too.) Read this and get pissed off.

Paper Assholes

Mechanics are assholes, most of them anyway and myself included. Take it from me, I've been in the business most of my life. The term caveat emptor applies when dealing with the auto repar industry. The point is to find the honest assholes and give them your business faithfully. I'm one of the honest guys and so is my boss, that's why I work for him. His name is Harry and he's one of the most honorable men I have ever met.

Bad, dishonest mechanics are an embarrassment and a blight on the business and I'm doing my damndest to put the ones in the local area out of business. Every so often, I'll impart a few of my rules you should follow when choosing a mechanic so you don't get ripped off. They'll be in no particular order(mainly because I'm an old hippie and my short-term memory went poof in '74), but when I stress a point, write it down so you'll remember it. Here's the first of them.


At a full-serve station, never(and I mean NEVER, NEVER, NEVER) buy a product or service if the guy pumping gas offers to check under the hood and your car has been running fine. Raising the hood is opening the door to let the rat bastard find something to sell you, usually an overpriced radiator cap. I can shovel bullshit on so deep to make you want a new cap even if another guy sold you one yesterday. Hey, once I whip out my tester and show you (Do you know what you're looking at when I show you the gauge?), you'll want that cap at the very least(You know the ENTIRE cooling system could be affected by a bad cap, lady). Maybe a cooling system flush and service too? You know I can do that while you wait, ma'am. Twenty minutes and a lot of commotion later, your wallet is a hundred bucks lighter. My total cost is a $4.00 rad cap and maybe a gallon of antifreeze. That's if I don't just clean off your old cap, put it back on, and throw a splash of new green shit in your overflow bottle to make it look like I flushed and changed all of your anti-freeze. Do you know enough to call me on it? I don't think so, lady.


I've worked for assholes who do this regularly. I didn't last long because I couldn't sleep at night. If all you need is gas, pump it yourself, it's cheaper. You don't need some dishonest prick scaring you into spending money at his Auto Repair and Highway Robbery Emporium. Now, if your car suddenly runs like shit and you're a million miles from home, you're at the mercy of the closest station. That reminds me of another rule. Have a towing plan so you can have your car towed to the guy you trust without having to mortgage the house to pay for the hook. I'll have many more in the future, once my two brain cells stop fighting with each other. I've got to tell Mrs. Fixer not to mix up martinis so early in the afternoon.

BTW: Go Rusty Wallace!

Hat Guys Understand

This guy is ALWAYS required reading: South Knox Bubba and this is a great little story.

Wednesday May 19, 2004


A man needs a good hat

Mrs. Bubba has been bugging me to get a new hat. I guess she's tired of my U.T. and WDVX baseball caps. And my grungy old felt fishing hat. So, a few days ago I think I found the perfect hat. (Actually Mrs. Bubba spotted it and insisted I try it on).

I ended up buying it, and I like it a lot. But even better than the hat was this message from the hat maker attached to the tag:


As a young boy, I always knew when spring had officially arrived. Uncle Newt started wearing his Panama hat. That was always on Easter Sunday. Just as certain, I knew fall was upon us when he donned his felt hat... the week of Labor Day.

I'm a "hat man" of long standing. As a youngster, I looked forward to getting old enough to wear a hat. I learned quickly that, like everything else, hat wearing demanded certain responsibilities. Mainly you had to know when to take it off... like at the dinner table, during the prayer at the church picnic, at the ballgame when the national anthem was played, or when you were introduced to a lady. In some instances a slight nod with a touch of the hat at the brim would suffice.

The pleasures of wearing a hat outweighed these small inconveniences even before civility and decorum had much meaning to me. For instance, if you're not wearing a hat, how do you fan a campfire to get it going or water your horse when there's no watering hole? How do you wave your hat in a crowd to a friend's attention? Hats can hide a persistent cowlick; and in my case, the occasional bad haircut administered to me out on the front porch by my Grandpa Littleton. A good hat shades you in the summer and keeps you warm in the winter. And, besides that, a hat just seems to say something about a man.

Uncle Newt had his hats custom made with a "stash" band where he always kept a crisp $100 bill for emergencies. As luck would have it, there was usually a crisp $10 bill stashed away for his favorite nephew. Having been introduced to the practicality of the stash band at a young age, I felt compelled to provide one for you.

There's a certain comfort in a favorite hat... kind of like an old friend who keeps showing up season after season. When I leave home, my hat goes with me. I hope this hat becomes one of your favorites and serves you well for a long time to come.


Well. I reckon that's a pretty compelling testimony and good enough reason to buy one of this fellow's hats. I got this one. And check out the guarantee.

By the way, Col. Littleton's hats (made right here in Tennessee over in Lynnville) are available at Little River Outfitters in Townsend. If you haven't been up there to see their new store, you should go check it out. It's really nice.

OK, then.

(Make SKB a regular stop as you surf the blogs. You won't be disappointed.)

The Left Lane

Tell me why people have to get in the left lane and do 50 mph? The left lane is for idiots like me who drive everywhere at 80. If you don't want some moron in a truck climbing all over your aft end, move over. The left lane is not your personal motorway, it's for people who are willing to pay the fine for doing the crime and we don't need you enforcing the law for us. I have places to see and people to do . . . something like that.

The reason I bring this up is because we just came back from one of Mrs. Fixer's shopping excursions (You'll hear more about those in the future) and some genius with his kid in the back seat had to slam on the brakes when I came up on him. He don't know me very well. He and his kid were almost a red stain on the Jersey barrier. Lucky for him, Mrs. Fixer was sitting next to me (we were also in Mrs. Fixer's Explorer) and all he got was the finger and a few chioce words as I went around him. As usual, Mrs. Fixer rolled her eyes. (She's used to me by now)

My point is that most of the idiots on the road are that way because folkswon't yield the left lane to faster-moving vehicles. Think about it the next time you're on the highway. If you're going the same speed as the lane to your right, you probably should be there.

Ahh, I feel better now.

Auto Wisdom-Every 3000 miles!

I don't give a shit what your owner's manual, your car dealer, the supposed expert on TV, or anyone else says. CHANGE YOUR OIL AND FILTER EVERY 3000 MILES RELIGIOUSLY! I can't stress this enough. If you do only one thing to your car in the way of maintenance, changing your oil at 3000 mile intervals should be it.

If you're one ofthose who uses synthetic oil (Mobil 1 et. al.), change it every 3000 miles also, even if the manufacturer says 5000 or 7500. Take my word for it, it's worth the price in the long run.

I'll have more oil science later on, along with wisdom about other lubricants. I just can't stress the value of regular oil changes enough. HEED MY DECREE.

Hey!

Rich here, my first attempt at putting my thoughts, in some coherent manner, out in public. I have a Dogma of not discussing politics, religion, or sex with folks I don't know but I do have some strong opinions on those subjects and others. I feel a blog is the best way to express them without losing some near and dear friends.

So, with that out of the way,

"And a slick DJ in a blazer with a badge came on and said, 'Here we go!'" -- The Who