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This is the 1st half of a pretty long piece, the 2nd half, as usual, is @ "poems by Mark Stellinga" on the Soup... OK everybody…could I please have your attention? I’ve got some real important things to say. Sharing restoration nightmares helps us all to vent, And that is what I’m going to do today. Like the vast majority of folks with older cars, My wife and I have run the gauntlet too. So most of what I have to say will come as no surprise, As much of this will not be new to you. Nearly every one of you has felt the awful shock Of what a scarce and perfect part can bring. Some of us use eBay and have learned how competition Can sometimes make the cost of items sting. Those of you who have the skills, facilities, and tools To do the work yourselves can save a lot, But most of us are forced to trust our “babies” to those few Who have the things the rest of us do not. Here’s an old scenario that makes no sense to me: You call a place that does what you need done, But when you bring your car in, they explain you’ll have to pay Before the work they’re going to do’s begun! You ask them why they’re charging you before they even start. They say, “Because this is a ‘classic car,’ And we don’t stand behind the work we do because we know Just how temperamental classics are.” You think about unloading on the measly little coward, But shops like his are very hard to find, So wisely you repress your urge to pop him in the snot-box, And, nervously…you leave your car behind. “Incompetent” is much too nice a word to classify The guys who run these slick and shifty firms. Here’s a factual tale of what my wife and I went through When we were first confronted with these terms. We took in our Desoto - which was very close to mint - To have the differential fluid changed. That was it. A simple task. But soon I would discover How badly this mechanic was deranged. First he called to say the only source for what I’d need Was out - but making more…which they’d soon ship, And that it should arrive in somewhere close to ninety days! I almost screamed, but wisely - bit my lip. “You’re not trying to tell me that - for differential grease - We have to wait for ninety stinkin’ days?” I argued, as I did my best to hold my temper back. (Turned out that - this was just the starting phase.) “Grease is not the problem, sir,” the snooty butt-wipe sneered, “The plug was hot, and fell into the drain. I had to use a torch to heat it up to get it out. I dropped it…and we’ve searched for it in vain.” That was when he asked me for the number on my card, To pay for things they ‘couldn’t anticipate!’ “We’ll only order what you need, as cheaply as we can… But nothing can be done about the wait. “Oh, by the way…we had a little undercoating fire. The tank got scorched…thank God it didn’t blow. The left rear tire exploded, but the damage isn’t bad. We’ll clean ‘er up and you’ll be good to go. “But…when we drained the axle, we discovered metal filings, And actually, that’s the reason why I called. The sludge was pretty nasty, and it’s good you brought it in. Your rear end needs completely overhauled!” “Just a minute. Let me get this straight,” I blew my top. “You’re telling me my car has been on fire?” “We had it out in no time, sir,” the piece o’ garbage said, “And we can round you up another tire.” “I only said to change the grease…not tear the thing apart. But, if it really needs it…go ahead.” Then…“Do whatever you see fit,” turned out, without a doubt, To be the dumbest thing I could have said. “Your axle housing’s very rare. And I am not surprised Its odd - square-headed plug - is hard to get. Everything the fire ruined we have…except the U-joints… But I got on the phone and found a set. “Never fear,” the weasel swore, “I’m giving you my word, We’ll have it back to perfect when it’s done. And, thankfully, we found the plug you need - and rest assured…. For fixing classic cars - we’re number one!” I took his word the part was rare, and put it on our Visa, Just thankful that we’d started in the fall, And counting on his honesty to not abuse the card, I held my tongue and thanked him for the call. After three long months had passed, I waited one more week, Then had to know status of our car. I rang the shop and panicked when the lady said, “I’m sorry, The owner don’t remember who you are!” She finally found my paperwork, then asked me if I’d “hold” While someone checked to see if it was done. Then someone picked the phone up and explained, “We got the plug. Unfortunately…it weren’t the proper one! “The manufacturer’s mother does the shipping, and he told us She’s very old and does this now and then. As soon as this one’s back he says he’ll ship us out another. We had to run your credit card again.

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The Car Club Meeting Lament - Text - Part 1 of 2

This is the 1st half of a pretty long piece, the 2nd half, as usual, is @ "poems by Mark Stellinga" on the Soup... OK everybody…could I please have your attention? I’ve got some real important things to say. Sharing restoration nightmares helps us all to vent, And that is what I’m going to do today. Like the vast majority of folks with older cars, My wife and I have run the gauntlet too. So most of what I have to say will come as no surprise, As much of this will not be new to you. Nearly every one of you has felt the awful shock Of what a scarce and perfect part can bring. Some of us use eBay and have learned how competition Can sometimes make the cost of items sting. Those of you who have the skills, facilities, and tools To do the work yourselves can save a lot, But most of us are forced to trust our “babies” to those few Who have the things the rest of us do not. Here’s an old scenario that makes no sense to me: You call a place that does what you need done, But when you bring your car in, they explain you’ll have to pay Before the work they’re going to do’s begun! You ask them why they’re charging you before they even start. They say, “Because this is a ‘classic car,’ And we don’t stand behind the work we do because we know Just how temperamental classics are.” You think about unloading on the measly little coward, But shops like his are very hard to find, So wisely you repress your urge to pop him in the snot-box, And, nervously…you leave your car behind. “Incompetent” is much too nice a word to classify The guys who run these slick and shifty firms. Here’s a factual tale of what my wife and I went through When we were first confronted with these terms. We took in our Desoto - which was very close to mint - To have the differential fluid changed. That was it. A simple task. But soon I would discover How badly this mechanic was deranged. First he called to say the only source for what I’d need Was out - but making more…which they’d soon ship, And that it should arrive in somewhere close to ninety days! I almost screamed, but wisely - bit my lip. “You’re not trying to tell me that - for differential grease - We have to wait for ninety stinkin’ days?” I argued, as I did my best to hold my temper back. (Turned out that - this was just the starting phase.) “Grease is not the problem, sir,” the snooty butt-wipe sneered, “The plug was hot, and fell into the drain. I had to use a torch to heat it up to get it out. I dropped it…and we’ve searched for it in vain.” That was when he asked me for the number on my card, To pay for things they ‘couldn’t anticipate!’ “We’ll only order what you need, as cheaply as we can… But nothing can be done about the wait. “Oh, by the way…we had a little undercoating fire. The tank got scorched…thank God it didn’t blow. The left rear tire exploded, but the damage isn’t bad. We’ll clean ‘er up and you’ll be good to go. “But…when we drained the axle, we discovered metal filings, And actually, that’s the reason why I called. The sludge was pretty nasty, and it’s good you brought it in. Your rear end needs completely overhauled!” “Just a minute. Let me get this straight,” I blew my top. “You’re telling me my car has been on fire?” “We had it out in no time, sir,” the piece o’ garbage said, “And we can round you up another tire.” “I only said to change the grease…not tear the thing apart. But, if it really needs it…go ahead.” Then…“Do whatever you see fit,” turned out, without a doubt, To be the dumbest thing I could have said. “Your axle housing’s very rare. And I am not surprised Its odd - square-headed plug - is hard to get. Everything the fire ruined we have…except the U-joints… But I got on the phone and found a set. “Never fear,” the weasel swore, “I’m giving you my word, We’ll have it back to perfect when it’s done. And, thankfully, we found the plug you need - and rest assured…. For fixing classic cars - we’re number one!” I took his word the part was rare, and put it on our Visa, Just thankful that we’d started in the fall, And counting on his honesty to not abuse the card, I held my tongue and thanked him for the call. After three long months had passed, I waited one more week, Then had to know status of our car. I rang the shop and panicked when the lady said, “I’m sorry, The owner don’t remember who you are!” She finally found my paperwork, then asked me if I’d “hold” While someone checked to see if it was done. Then someone picked the phone up and explained, “We got the plug. Unfortunately…it weren’t the proper one! “The manufacturer’s mother does the shipping, and he told us She’s very old and does this now and then. As soon as this one’s back he says he’ll ship us out another. We had to run your credit card again.