The Jellybean is back home! Yep, that's right. I have a car
again. One that runs, if it isn't one that is all fixed.
Yep. You read that right. It isn't entirely fixed yet! And
please note that it's been a month now that it was in the shop. Dad and I got
up to the Lansing Kia dealership around 7:15-ish this morning and paid the
extremely large sum they charged us to fix my car. They pulled it around the
front of the service area while we talked with our service guy. I hopped in and
started 'er up, while the service advisor was still chatting with my dad. The
"check engine" light came on. I hopped right back out, told the guy,
he takes it back into the garage. About ten minutes later he brings it back
around front - the techs had disconnected the oxygen sensor yesterday while
running the engine, and they forgot to reconnect it. Simple enough. Dad and I
went to the other end of the shopping center to grab a nutritious (ha!)
McDonald's breakfast, then headed down Grand River Ave towards campus, shooting
for a gas station on the other side of campus (the yahoos left me with fumes in
my gas tank). Filled the tank. Started the car up again.
The check engine light comes on.
I told dad, and we drove four miles back to the dealership.
I ask for our service rep, and the receptionist pages him. I can see through
the glass wall seperating the waiting room and the garage that he's headed
towards the door, and he hurried his pace when he saw it was me. "That
damn light is back on again," I tell him. "And it's NEVER been on in
this car before." So he has me pull it in the garage, takes it back to
where the techs are again. About an hour goes by (Dad and I watched almost all
of the Maury episode on bratty kids. I wasn't as bad as they are... really.) He
finally brings it around again. "Well, your oxygen sensor is bad. I can
order a new one, it'll take about a week, or you can take it in to the
dealership up by you and have it done there. I can even write the work order so
you can give them the codes and they can order it before you take it in."
So that's what we're going to do, since I'm not leaving my car up in Lansing
any more than absolutely necessary, and they aren't open on weekends so I can't
have them do it on a gaming day (which is what would honestly work the best, as
I'd rather have the guys that know my car already continue to be the ones
working on it. I'm not looking forward to having to go through my car's history
with a new mechanic).
Then the service rep continues... "And by the way, you
may want to check your oil frequently for the first while, I noticed a drop on
the bottom when we had it up in the air, it's probably just where my guys
spilled when they were filling it, but... keep an eye on it."
Yeah, I'm keeping an eye on it all right. It has been
dripping - slowly, but steadily - all day. I'm not too thrilled. Not thrilled
at ALL. At least it runs... thank all things holy, it runs... and really nice,
to boot. I'm going to call the more-local dealership tomorrow (if I get a
chance while at work) and try to make the arrangements for the oxygen sensor
replacement and also to have them look at the oil drip... and then see if they
can fix the pesky fuel light that flashes on and off no matter how full the gas
tank is. And I need to get the brakes done before I head out to Pitts, so...
blah.
On a more somber note... When dad and I were eating
breakfast, he picked up a section of newspaper off the free readin' stack. It
was open to the middle of the section, so he flipped it around to the front.
The feature cover story was about one of my mom's friends from medical school.
She lost a son in Iraq almost a year ago... I found out about it about a month
and a half ago (my mom thought I already knew). My brother and I had spent time
with Maureen's kids when we were living back in Lansing, not a lot of time, but
a pretty good amount. Every time I hear about someone killed in Iraq, I have
conflicting emotions... sadness, that yet another life was taken, and relief
that it wasn't Brad. I feel a bit guilty about having that reaction, but at the
same time... I'm betting that it's probably pretty common in people who have
loved ones involved with the middle east conflict at
