Awhile back I heard a comment on the news that "Senior Abuse" is now basically on the same level as "Child Abuse" as far as the law is concerned. The day before yesterday I mowed our large PITA lawn on a 96* afternoon. It took 2-1/2 hours with a non-self-propelled push mower. Having to push around the one-piece frame I have been saving for my '57 Bel Air that is stashed behind the garage may not have helped. I then spent the rest of the evening moving a half-dozen or so 1964-72 El Camino doors our of an old storage building that we want to get rid of. More difficult than it may sound considering that I moved them to several different new homes. As I was heading to the shower around 9:00 pm I commented to Laura, "I really kicked my ass today".
Then yesterday I spent the late morning & early afternoon loading the old yard truck (1989 Z71) with scrap from the aforementioned building & the garage. An old 305 block, some heads, intakes, a rusty EC door that I had decided not to keep and a couple of barrels of miscellaneous scrap that had accumulated over time. And of course the other junk that was too big for one of the barrels. When the load was up to the sides of the box & the back of the truck was squatting down pretty good, I headed for the local scrap yard & unloaded it all by hand in 95* heat. And the soaking humidity that is summer here in the midwest.
Then I got to thinking that one of the local Wally Worlds was "almost" on my way home. A nice cold drink, maybe a candy bar & of course, some A/C. You think the A/C still works in the "Yard Truck"? Silly you. So off I go, find a parking place & I head on in. I got what I wanted & headed back to the truck. Fired it up & started to pull out of the parking place & I killed it. It's a stick. How embarrassing is that when you have been driving a clutch since you were 15? Hit the key again & nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Cranked nicely, wouldn't fire. Did the normal checks for an internal combustion engine & it has spark & appears to have fuel. But I am no expert on the FI stuff. So here I am, 5-6 miles from home & it is in the mid-nineties with 100% humidity. Would I do it? Could I do it? You know how it is........no matter how old, sometimes a guy just has to find out.
So I grabbed a drink & my bush hat which I was suddenly really glad that I had remembered to toss into the truck when I left, locked the truck up & started walking. An hour & twenty minutes later I walked up my driveway & every piece of clothing that I had on was soaked & stuck to the closest place on my body. And my feet hurt like hell because I had put on an old pair of mowing shoes to load & unload greasy parts. And I didn't yet have all of the answers to all of the myriad of things that can occur to your mind while just putting one foot in front of the other for an hour & twenty minutes;
How did this road suddenly get so hilly? Didn't seem that way the last time that I drove it.
Hope it's not the fuel pump. That damn thing is in the tank.
Why does that time & temp sign only say 97*. Surely it is hotter than that.
Are you sure that it had spark? Pretty sure.
Is this dog stupider than me? He keeps running up & down the other side of that fence just to bark at me.
Maybe the truck just wanted to stay at the scrap yard too?
I only got $37.40 scrap price for all of that? The price of scrap must really be in the tank.
Why is the shade always on the other side of the street?
When did I learn that I could do something like this? Oh yeah, USMC boot camp where I learned that I could do things that I didn't think that I could. When I was 18.
How long ago was that? Holly crap! Forty-eight & one-half years? My math must be way off somewhere.
Could I get arrested for "Senior Abuse" for this? Does the new jail have A/C?
Would I have to live in California for them to interpret the law that way?
So I am power-napping when Laura gets home from work & says "Where the Z71? Broke down at Walmart? How did you get home? You what?" And you can probably fill in the rest. So I grabbed a gas can & we drove back out there after rush hour. I primed it mostly just to see if it would fire for a second or two. My version of trouble shooting the fuel pump. But the dang thing kept running. All the way home where I shut it off. And then it wouldn't start again. Back to square one. Did a bit of research last night & it appears to be the fuel pressure valve. So I will prime it again, start it up & pull it into the garage to change that. Just in case the "Senior Police" are watching.
Then yesterday I spent the late morning & early afternoon loading the old yard truck (1989 Z71) with scrap from the aforementioned building & the garage. An old 305 block, some heads, intakes, a rusty EC door that I had decided not to keep and a couple of barrels of miscellaneous scrap that had accumulated over time. And of course the other junk that was too big for one of the barrels. When the load was up to the sides of the box & the back of the truck was squatting down pretty good, I headed for the local scrap yard & unloaded it all by hand in 95* heat. And the soaking humidity that is summer here in the midwest.
Then I got to thinking that one of the local Wally Worlds was "almost" on my way home. A nice cold drink, maybe a candy bar & of course, some A/C. You think the A/C still works in the "Yard Truck"? Silly you. So off I go, find a parking place & I head on in. I got what I wanted & headed back to the truck. Fired it up & started to pull out of the parking place & I killed it. It's a stick. How embarrassing is that when you have been driving a clutch since you were 15? Hit the key again & nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Cranked nicely, wouldn't fire. Did the normal checks for an internal combustion engine & it has spark & appears to have fuel. But I am no expert on the FI stuff. So here I am, 5-6 miles from home & it is in the mid-nineties with 100% humidity. Would I do it? Could I do it? You know how it is........no matter how old, sometimes a guy just has to find out.
So I grabbed a drink & my bush hat which I was suddenly really glad that I had remembered to toss into the truck when I left, locked the truck up & started walking. An hour & twenty minutes later I walked up my driveway & every piece of clothing that I had on was soaked & stuck to the closest place on my body. And my feet hurt like hell because I had put on an old pair of mowing shoes to load & unload greasy parts. And I didn't yet have all of the answers to all of the myriad of things that can occur to your mind while just putting one foot in front of the other for an hour & twenty minutes;
How did this road suddenly get so hilly? Didn't seem that way the last time that I drove it.
Hope it's not the fuel pump. That damn thing is in the tank.
Why does that time & temp sign only say 97*. Surely it is hotter than that.
Are you sure that it had spark? Pretty sure.
Is this dog stupider than me? He keeps running up & down the other side of that fence just to bark at me.
Maybe the truck just wanted to stay at the scrap yard too?
I only got $37.40 scrap price for all of that? The price of scrap must really be in the tank.
Why is the shade always on the other side of the street?
When did I learn that I could do something like this? Oh yeah, USMC boot camp where I learned that I could do things that I didn't think that I could. When I was 18.
How long ago was that? Holly crap! Forty-eight & one-half years? My math must be way off somewhere.
Could I get arrested for "Senior Abuse" for this? Does the new jail have A/C?
Would I have to live in California for them to interpret the law that way?
So I am power-napping when Laura gets home from work & says "Where the Z71? Broke down at Walmart? How did you get home? You what?" And you can probably fill in the rest. So I grabbed a gas can & we drove back out there after rush hour. I primed it mostly just to see if it would fire for a second or two. My version of trouble shooting the fuel pump. But the dang thing kept running. All the way home where I shut it off. And then it wouldn't start again. Back to square one. Did a bit of research last night & it appears to be the fuel pressure valve. So I will prime it again, start it up & pull it into the garage to change that. Just in case the "Senior Police" are watching.
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