What a Tool! (Pt. 1)

I’m surprised that Ford didn’t just call the first car a mancar. Although most women are only vaguely enamored of cars, it’s true… there are some who actually know the workings of an automobile. They were taught by their fathers… case closed.

I have always named each of my cars because I ascribe soulful qualities to inanimate objects. I have fostered Rocky, Virginia, Bullet, Herbert and Kukla. See, men think that this is just stupid even though some of them love their cars more than their children, and many men will admit this. I always pat Kukla on the dashboard both before I set out with her, and again in thanks when she brings me safely back home.

Do I know how Kukla works under the hood, around the hood or in the way back (where that pesky spare tire hides), no. Do I care? No. Do I belong to AAA? You bet your ass I do. As a matter of fact, when my car battery recently got sick and went into a coma, I called AAA the way I would call 911. And, like 911, sometimes you have to wait a long time until they arrive, no matter how desperate you are.

My AAA mobile doctor finally showed up, and I immediately felt better. But, here’s the thing… I don’t give a shit how he fixes my car, I just want it done PDQ. They always feel compelled, however, to try to describe the problem to me in mechanical terms. It would be really rude to say, “I don’t give a shit, just fix it!” So, I feign interest as they go on and on and on, using words that are wholly unfamiliar to me.

This mechanic doctor, after performing a successful operation on my battery with red and black wires, did advise me with a piece of information that would enhance the duration of my poor battery’s life. He suggested that I turn off the air conditioner whenever I’m not driving Kukla. Apparently, when the air conditioner is left on while the car is sleeping, it is exuding energy and draining the battery. Did you know that? I mean, if you’re a woman, did you know that… show of hands? I thought so. I’m a 67-year-old woman and no one told me this when I was 18 and took my car to a mechanic for the first time. It’s nice to know now, but a lot of good it’s going to do me.

Since I am not the most literate student of computers, how on earth am I supposed to figure out a car’s computer, and that’s all that they are now… moveable computers. I’ve heard that when intricate computer systems on these new cars crash, you’re done… kaput… DOA. Go ahead… call AAA (good luck). Those people know about cars, not computers.

I actually took a course once on how to change your oil and a tire. Changing the oil on a car is so messy and oily and dirty. Why would I want to do that? And, since mechanics screw in tire nuts with that power tool, how in the HELL are you supposed to be able to unscrew those nuts without that power tool, out on the side of a road by yourself? Fat chance.

If it sounds like I am a little spoiled, it’s true. I was taught that ‘the man’ would always take care of the car. None of my three husbands knew squat about cars, so that was just bad advice, and after the women’s liberation movement came and went, some of us have sunk back into the DIY shadows.

Look, we’re doing the best that we can here. Enjoy our tutorial, but don’t do any of the things that my sister and I advise… seriously… just call AAA.