or, How Not to Get Anything Done in Hurry
Staring at my ’67 the other day in the garage, with the engine to the left, the tranny to the right, new parts on the work bench, and old parts soaking in cleaner, it occurred to me that the car was going to be off the road for several weeks. My extended road trip across the U.S. in 2003 (refer to Cal-Look.com’s Archived Events section, Behind the Orange Curtain Tour), which included 2 trips to the dragstrip, revealed that my original tranny mounts and spring plate bushings were worn out. After 37 years, they had retired from service, refusing to securely locate the tranny, or dampen torsion bar movement any longer. I had delayed replacing the mounts until the cold winter months. It was now winter, and I was surrounded by parts, coming to terms with the fact that I’d barely made a dent in my “to-do” list on the garage wall.
As we mature (or at least age, recognizing that maturity does not necessarily correlate to ageing, especially in my case), we tend to come to terms with our own strengths and weaknesses. I have accepted the fact that when it comes to working on my car, I live in the town of Snailspaceville. In fact, I could probably be mayor of the town, if it didn’t smack of effort. I have accepted the fact that I am a “process” guy, not a “payoff” guy. While others enjoy the result – getting it done – I enjoy the process of getting it done.
When approaching mechanical maintenance, my process usually reflects the following:
Day 1
* Brew a cup of tea
* Select appropriate music, usually some vintage blues recorded in a rum shack somewhere in the southern U.S. during the 1930s
* Completely clean the garage, top-to-bottom, ensuring that it is spotless
* Take a seat, admiring how clean the garage is, while drinking the tea
* Gaze at the vintage racing photographs on the walls, taking in all of the details
* Realize that you’ve been daydreaming for 45-minutes, and need to get to work
* Spend two hours thoroughly detailing the ’67 (you can’t, after all, work on a dirty car!)
* Realize that you’re hungry, and go into the house for lunch
* Rub the dog’s belly while your lunch digests (what’s the saying about the danger of drowning while working on car within 2 hours after eating? Or was that swimming? I forget.)
* Brew another cup of tea
* Change the music selection, recognizing that it’s time to slowly pick-up the pace: insert a Radiohead CD
* Pull the car back into the garage, being sure to wipe down the floor again due to the fresh tire tracks left by the wet tires
* Read the appropriate section in the factory service manual. You’ve done the job before, but not wanting to piss-off the VW Gods, it’s a good idea to show deference and remind yourself what the factory intended.
* Read other parts of the manual that have nothing to do with the job at hand, staring at the then brand new cars in perfect condition, shaking you head in amazement
* Turn on the television in the garage to watch vintage automobile racing
* Realize that you’ve lost another hour. Turn the television off, changing the music selection to Rage Against the Machine, hoping that it will inject some enthusiasm.
* Stare at the car, contemplating the work you need to do
* Thoroughly clean all of your tools
* Clean all of the new parts to be installed, neatly arranging them on the workbench
* Realize that you’re getting sleepy, and take a nap
* After a 2-hour nap, wake up and have dinner, followed by rubbing the dog’s belly (see safety note above)
* Walk into the garage, admiring the cleanliness, feeling proud of yourself for a job well done. The car is now ready to begin working on tomorrow!
Day 2
* Refer to Day 1
My grandfather passed on his love of process. He believed that the end result was meaningless if you didn’t show patience and respect for the path to get there. Finding time to ensure that you did it right the first time meant you never had to find the time to re-do the job a second time, correcting your errors. It drove me nuts as a kid working in his woodshop. He would spend hours going through the process of working on a project, when all I wanted was to get to the finish line! Fortunately or unfortunately, he corrupted me, and I am now him.
Perhaps a love of process is merely a romantic view of procrastination? It doesn’t really matter; if reality is perception, I’m happy to live in denial. I’ve come to terms with the fact that while others could replace the tranny mounts and spring plate bushings in a weekend, the car will remain incapacitated for several more weeks as I work through my to-do list at the rate of a snail climbing uphill on a rainy day.
Time for another cup of tea.
