Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Old School

Here's a wee vignette straight outta 1955, except it happened this week right up here in rural Canada.

A couple of weeks ago I had the main unit in the Falling Downs motor pool puke her guts out right there on Tenth Avenue. Thanks to the smarts of the Farm Manager, the fallout and inconvenience was, because of our CAA membership, not nearly as close to catastrophic as it otherwise might have been.

You'll recall the foundation myth of the Mustang 50. What I've failed to keep you abreast of is the medical condition of said Mustang.

Truth is, she's been getting a little unsteady on her feet.

As the old Honda Accord burps her last on a side-street off Tenth, a guy comes out of a house, tells me he could tell by the Honda's last gasps what killed her, and says "if ya ever need a real mechanic call Jimmie up in your neck of the woods."

Right away, I'm thinking there are forces at work, channelling the late great master mechanic of all time, Jimmie Lippert.

I make a phone call. This new Jimmie will exorcize the demons haunting the Mustang 50.

He says his magic will be done by Friday.

But I don't get there till Saturday. I see the Mustang 50, but I don't see Jimmy.

The Mustang is unlocked and the key is in the ignition.

I reach in and twist the key, rewarded instantly by that only-in-America v-8 exhaust burble...

The Mustang 50 has been successfully exorcised!

Long story short, Jimmy wasn't around but I happened into his dear Mother. She didn't have a clue what the bill might be. She's from a world where, to this day, nobody locks their front door. And they leave car keys in the ignition always, because that way you'll always know where they are, which is exactly where they're supposed to be anyways!

So I press $400 cash in her hand and tell her to tell Jimmie that if I still owe him, to give me a call. I figure that's on the low side for an exorcism on a 25 year old Mustang.

I hear nothing for a few days, so I figure I want to drop in and just clear the air in case I owe a little more. After all, maybe he's pissed I just sorta helped myself to my car after a major repair, without discussing anything, including the bill.

Jimmie tells me he owes ME money.

Hands me 300 bucks.

Where else would that happen today?

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