Die Hards & Donuts

Dateline: Liverpool, NY, January 19, 2008

It was [should have been] nothing too complicated . . .

Friday morning, at precisely 11:18 am, I showed up to the scene of the crime where the dead ‘99 Ford Taurus, 3 liter 6 with single overhead cam sat belligerently in the middle of Wegman’s parking lot. I was prepared with a set of standard tools appropriate for removing a dead alternator. The Ford was prepared to fight.

I parked my Jeep in front of the Taurus, (henceforth referred to as “POS”) to block the bitter cold forty-mile-per-hour wind that was ripping through my coat like it was cheesecloth.
I popped the hood and deftly applied a 5/16” shallow socket to the first bolt on the alternator.
Hmmm. How about 7/16”? Maybe 3/8”?
Who knew a FORD was all metric?
After a couple trips back and forth between Wally World and Pep Boys to get the proper metric wrenches, plus a pry bar and a small sledge hammer (persuader), I returned to the scene of the crime and, with some persuading and several “incantations”, I got the alternator out.

Back to Pep Boys.

The NAPA 213-3120F (remanufactured) alternator tested “Really Dead”, in spite of the fact that it was less than 2 years old -- hardly out of diapers.
With a much lighter wallet and a new (remanufactured) alternator, I returned to the POS. By this time, about 2:23 pm, Andrew and his girlfriend Sara were waiting at the scene with coffee and peanut donuts. I gladly accepted the coffee and, since my hands were covered in grease, I decided to save the donuts for later.

Andrew and I filled the cavity with the new (remanufactured) alternator and, feeling rather manly, started the car. It ran beautifully! For three minutes . . . then it died.

After a fair amount of tinkering and some jumper cable mojo, I determined that the battery was deceased and would never again hold a charge, rest in peace. We extracted the corpse and headed to Sears. The battery tested “Deader Than an Alternator”.

More wallet-letting.

We returned to the SOTC where the POS sat smirking. Andrew was brandishing a shiny new Sears Die Hard. POS was not impressed. We popped the battery in — backwards — because the Die Hard geniuses decided it would be best to manufacture batteries with a sort of amorphous approach to interchangeability, and swapped the position of the terminals. After a little wire rerouting, we got it all hooked up and with fingers crossed, started the POS. It ran beautifully! For 3 minutes. Then five. Then Ten!
We decided it was fixed, and headed home -- Andrew in the lead, Sara following in her car, and me in my Jeep bringing up the rear, just in case . . . POS ran like a top all the way home. Arrival time, 4:57 pm. After some warming up, Andrew packed up the car, said goodbye and headed back to Geneseo, with a quick stop at Heid’s to introduce Sara to our world famous hot dog stand.

And then . . . just half-an-hour west on the thruway, POS rejected the implants and flatlined.
Andrew coasted off the highway onto the shoulder.
Tractor trailers where whizzing by at 75mph, so Andrew decided to push the car off the shoulder to get it further from the passing traffic.

Here's the really funny part . . .

While Andrew was pushing the POS out of harm’s way, Newton’s law of inertia took over and carried the POS off the shoulder, over the embankment and into the trees, 60 feet from the road and definitely out of harm’s way.

The first phone call started like this:
"Um, Dad . . . the stupid car died, and then . . ."

Several phone calls later, we were able to determine where AAA would leave the car after winching it out of the forest.
My wife Becky and I met Andrew at Pulley’s Towing in Weedsport (catchy names, both), and packed the Jeep with the contents of the POS, which was now sporting muddy tires, a crumpled right front fender, racing stripes up the hood, and broken branches wedged under the windshield wipers. It looked like it had a bad day of duck hunting.

We left POS [henceforth known as Gadabout Gaddis] in the parking lot and started leg two of the drive to Geneseo. It was without incident.
Becky and I helped carry Andrew’s belongings up to his dorm room, said goodbye again and headed to the Quality Inn down the road.
Arrival time: 10:52 pm.
In my left hand, an overnight bag.
In my right, a small, familiar orange paper sack containing 2 peanut donuts.

I fell asleep watching Orangutan Island.
Orangutans are funny.