No Lesson Learned

Oh, sure, things are better, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it.

It all began a few days ago, and by "few days" I might actually mean a year, or, to go to the start of the story, going on a couple years now.

A few days ago I got in my car, Timmy, to go to work and was made very afraid by his not starting. Turned the key...nothing. No lights on the dash. no failed attempt to start, just nothing.

About six months ago this happened, too, but Timmy quickly recovered and started up on the second try. Since then, it's happened occasionally, sometimes requiring four or five attempts, but he's always come through. Not the other day, though, when he began dead and became increasingly moribund the more I tried to breathe life into him by turning the broken key.

In this narrative I may have skipped over the incident a year ago when I broke the key in half inside the ignition, but I was coming to that. It may have been on one of those recalcitrant efforts to get him started, or it may have just been when I was in a hurry, but once when I was returning from a dental visit I turned the key in the ignition when the key was not all the way in.
I didn't realize that at the time, nor did I understand the ramifications of the massive upper body strength us males are so famous for, so instead of turning the key in the lock, I managed to only turn the part of the key that was outside the lock. The part safely and snugly inside the lock stayed in place, and I ended up with half a key in my hand.
I ended up using the half in my hand to push the half in the lock all the way in, and have been using that bastardized key ever since.

So, when Timmy didn't start the other day, I figured that broken key was somehow involved. Making things worse, if that's the right word, when I first laid eyes on Timmy, before he was mine, his ignition was dangling down in the vicinity of the driver's knees, below the column. This was somehow explained as not being a problem, and it was fixed before I handed over my hard-earned money in exchange for the right to call him mine.

That, too, lay on my mind as I sat in the driveway uselessly turning a key that did nothing.

My fear, of course, was that I'd need to replace the ignition switch. While that may not seem like much to you, you probably have a current car where parts such as ignition switches are readily available. Also, you may have some idea about how to replace one, a skill I lack.

While I know as much about repairing cars as anyone did in the 70s, which is to say replacing head gaskets, cleaning carburetors, and that level of things, the interior of the car and body work have been a closed book to me. I have no idea how to dismantle a door or dashboard, but after a bit of hunting around, I was able to strip the trim from the steering column and came up with this rather imposing sight.



It took me a few days riding back and forth to the store getting strange tools before I was able to really get down to the problem. I could have had Timmy towed to a repair place like a normal person would do, but I had no idea where to take him. The locksmith who solved the mystery of his locked trunk seemed a good idea because I felt he could replace the key chamber, but I wasn't sure how far his expertise went.
A dealer would be good, though frightfully expensive, but it's been years since I've seen a Geo Metro dealership, and I just wasn't sure Jim's Auto Repair could find an ignition switch for a 1991 Geo Metro. Hell, I wasn't sure anybody could, not without using the Internet and waiting a week.

So, I fretted.

From time to time I'd go out and try something, and when it didn't work, I'd grow more despairing and desperate and try to solve those emotions with ice cream. That, and repeating my mantra: Fuck this car, fuck my life, fuck me.

That course of action, to my surprise, dismay, and consternation, did nothing, nothing at all.

After using the wisdom of the Internet to learn about hotwiring, I tried some of that for awhile. My goals were simple:

1) Do no irreparable harm (nothing I couldn't undo, when I screwed up)
2) Get Timmy running
3) Don't electrocute yourself, unless it comes to that

I wasted quite a bit of time trying one thing, checking something out, and leaving the car even more discouraged than when I'd last approached it. It took a long time, and a lot of thought, for me to work up the courage to try something, and Timmy's continued state of death did little to buoy my flagging spirits.

Then, I came up with a realization. No matter what I did, Timmy didn't show any sign of having any electricity at all in his system. I left the horrors of the driver's compartment and raised the hood to poke around there. No matter what I tried, I couldn't coax a spark out of the battery, so I decided that was the culprit.

It's a pretty simple fix to replace a battery, but it isn't as cheap as it would be if I could somehow repair the battery. Even with our current, wildly inflated costs of commodities, lead is much cheaper than batteries, but repairing a battery is about as feasible as repairing a burned out light bulb.

I might be able to get away with getting a jump, but one of the delights of buying a used car is not knowing how far along the path any of the components are. If it was the battery that was the problem, it hadn't been doing a great job of holding a charge for the last six months, and the hot weather was pushing it.

In the end, I went and got a new battery, carefully noting the make and model of the one that was in there. That one, held in place by tied bungee cords, of course, wasn't the right model, but I was more amazed that the computer at the Autozone carried information about 1991 Geo Metros.

I replaced the battery and literally held my breath as I turned the key. Lights went on! The engine turned and sputtered into reluctant life!

I was so excited it nearly replaced my feelings that this is a temporary solution and much greater problems lie hidden. Maybe the old battery was just out of juice, but I wish I could shake the feeling that whatever drained one is busy right now, draining this one.

In the meantime, I may be able to go shopping again. Tomorrow.