Truckma

It appears without warning. No change in performance. No signs of mechanical trauma. Same six-cylinder sounds. My poor old truck suddenly, quietly, pleads for help. Costly, mystery help.

My normal tact, as this happens quite often, is to wait for a secondary indicator. A misfiring spark plug, a change in gas mileage, a metallic grinding sound accompanied by shrapnel... any of these, really. Then to take it to a mechanic, perform whatever financial maneuver is required to make it go away, and wonder what the hell happened.

Automotive issues confound me. Sure, I teach physics. I can do the math showing what happens in the engine. But that is really different from being able to use the tools and make the fix.

I was brewing beer with my buddy Matt recently. The topic of our dreamed brewpub opened up, and I said that we could do it because between the two of us, I had a degree in chemistry and Matt had practical skills. My audience took this as a dig against Matt. I was confused and didn't understand why. I thought I was complimenting him. You see, here is the truth: I KNOW NOTHING USEFUL!!!! I have no practical knowledge or skills. I can talk for hours about education theory, atomic radii influencing electronegativity, or the influences of Bruce Lee on popular comics. But at the end of the day, I have no job and am getting ready to hand money to someone with practical knowledge so that I can drive my happy ass to the grocery store.

Next time, given the chance, here is what I will say: We can get there, because Matt knows how to do everything, and I can prove it on paper.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to stare at the orange check engine light. If I stare long enough, I may hear the sound of one hand clapping.