Labor Day, and a mischevious socket.

Sunday Jenn called me from Stuffmart (Walmart) and said that the battery in her Saturn died. She went inside and got another one, and also got a mechanic to install it for her. Car batteries tend to die all of a sudden, so no big deal. Problem solved. She did notice her battery light remained on as she drove home, but we just figured Greeny was being a bit obstinate.

Monday, Jenn was driving the Saturn again, and called me that the radio was acting weird, and other things were happening that led her to believe it was the alternator. You might recall her “BK Broiler” (Buick) back in RIT days devoured alternators like I devour milk. So in other words, Jenn knew what she was talking about. She arrived home safely, and I could see the battery wasn’t being charged. I went out, and bought a new alternator, and my neighbor Roger and I jacked up the Saturn, and removed the old one (the original – 135K miles on it. Not bad.)

Now, there’s this one bolt that is completely inaccessible unless the mechanic happens to have a deformed hand, or decides to hire a particularly adept and well-trained eel to reach it. However, somehow I was able to maneuver my hand in there and started tightening it. Then the worst possible thing happened: the socket came off my wrench, and DID NOT DROP TO THE GROUND. Roger and I looked all over for it. Flashlights were a blazing. Magnetic wands were being waved like we were Lords of the O-Rings, casting socket-expelling enchantments on the vehicle. In the end, we had to completely remove the new alternator, and only then could we find that socket; it took us longer to find the socket than it did to remove the old alternator and mostly install the new one. I was contemplating just buying a new car.

So anyway, new alternator is in, Greeny is happy and charged, and my hand is slowly returning to its original non-deformed state.

Happy Labor Day.