Chevrolet Choo Choo.

Wednesday morning, May 18, 2016.  Destination, Dovedale, via Ilam, in the Peak District National Park.  Dovedale is about fifteen miles east of our starting point, Leek, Staffordshire. Whenever I see the road sign for "Ilam", I always think of eleven o'clock in the morning. Coincidentally, that's around the time we arrived at Ilam on our way to Dovedale. 

This was going to be a three day camping adventure for my son, Tristan and his good friend, Dominic aka "Dom."  Tristan had suggested I take the shorter yet, oh so narrow, winding road via Ilam, to get to Dovedale.  A road so narrow that whenever a vehicle came the other way, I had to take evasive action, pull way wide to the edge and avoid upsetting the sheep.  I will refrain from any sheep jokes.  

Here they are, all ready to go on their camping trip.  Dom is on the left and that makes Tristan on the right.  The photo was taking from a very wet Dovedale car park, which you might refer to as a parking lot.  

Before leaving, I told them if they needed a ride back, I would come and get them.  They had planned walking the fifteen miles back to Leek.  

As I headed back out of Dovedale, I decided to take the easier route back to Leek.  A road somewhat wider than the one we came in on.  Then I got to a crossroads.  One way indicated Ashbourne, Derbyshire, the other, Buxton, Derbyshire.  Knowing Buxton very well, I thought, what the heck, head towards Buxton for a different, scenic drive back.

Then it happened.  My very smooth running Chevrolet, suddenly became a violent, trembling beast of a car.  The car was shaking real bad and I heard a sound that made me feel like I was in the cab of a steam train.  Wasn't quite sure whether to apply the accelerator or look for some coal to shovel.  This went on for about five minutes.  Then the car ran smoothly for the next five minutes.  I was feeling somewhat panicky but I did maintain my composure.

The drive to Buxton seemed to take forever and then some.  The car continued with its five minutes of smooth driving and five minutes of living in an earthquake zone.  Buxton, where for art thou, Buxton.  Finally after about thirty minutes, I arrived in Buxton.

I knew that the journey from Buxton to Leek would require me driving the A53, one of the steepest stretches of road in the UK.  Predictably, as I headed up the steep road, my car started acting up again.  Somehow, I did continue to stay calm.  I visualised the end of the thirteen mile stretch that would get me to Leek and to a mechanic I trusted.

I explained the symptoms to the mechanic and I got my Chevrolet booked in for the next morning, Thursday morning.  

After taking my car to the mechanics, I waited for the outcome.  Of course, my car needed one part and the part wasn't going to arrive until Friday morning.  The part, to bore you, was called a caliper, which is part of the braking system.  How odd that such weird happenings from my car could be related to the braking system. 

On Friday morning, my phone rang.  It was my son asking me to come and get them.  At this point, I still didn't know if my car had been fixed.  I explained to my son what had happened to my car.  I told him I'd phone him back.  Luckily, the car was fixed.  Within the hour, I had paid for the repair and got the two dudes in what was now a very smooth running car.

I know, by my standards, I rambled on in this post.  To summarise, which is a good starting point for anybody who, heaven forbid, skims through my posts, all turned out well.   I stayed calm.  That, in itself, is a momentous step forward in my ongoing challenge of not allowing anxiety to overwhelm me.

As for Dom and Tristan, they had fun during three days of torrential rain. 

Chevy Reads Blog Posts?

I'm being very careful what I type just in case my car reads this post.  It seems like it might of been more than coincidence that after I put up a post moaning about cars these days and how simple repairs had become not so simple, that my car promptly acted up the very next day.  I have a hunch that my car's computer read my post.

Thus, my lovable Chevrolet Lacetti, do not worry,  This will be a nice post.  In fact, I'm going to take you back to that friendly, honest mechanic, Adrian.  I shall have Adrian change your oil, your oil filter and give you the best lube job ever.  Besides, my lovable car, I felt bad when he didn't charge me anything in regards to your mystery electrical ailment.

You know, that electrical show you were doing inside my car.  Flashing on and off inside lights that brought back memories of seventies disco.  So, thanks for the boogie wonderland routine, my amazingly nice car.

Dear Chevy, do you recall this photo?  Yes, it was part of that BBC wildlife documentary.  Oh what joy you brought to the precious creatures as you interacted.  They crapped on your roof, fiddled with your wipers and the moose tried to head butt your headlamps.

Dear Chevrolet Lacetti, I should of given you a name.  I recall a time when it seems everybody named their car.  I remember when "Tinker Bell" was a popular name for a car.  I shall discuss a name with you.

My beloved car has been functioning very well since I had it checked out. I'm grateful to that very honest mechanic, Adrian.

My car is no longer an Aston Martin and I'm no longer James Bond from the sixties.  My car in now a "Shaguar" and I'm Austin Powers, "International Man of Misery!"  "Yeah, Baby, Yeah!"

My Chevrolet Almost Ended Up In Detroit.

This is going to be another fast, free-flow, frantic, frenzied, fun-filled, farcical formulation.

I think I might of jinxed myself with my previous post complaining about today's vehicles and that you need to see a software engineer if your car's computer starts acting up.  Maybe my car read my previous post, dated, Friday, June 12, 2015.

Saturday evening, about 8 P.M, June 13, 2015, Sainsbury's supermarket, Leek, Staffordshire, England.  Switch off car.  Get out of car.  Close the door.  All the indicator lights on the dashboard, the beeping sound to indicate a door is open, the red light for the car alarm, are all going ballistic.  I open the car door and it all stops.  I close the door again.  All the indicator lights on the dashboard, the beeping sound to indicate a door is open, the red light for the car alarm, are all going ballistic, yet again!  Close the car for the third time and realise the light show will eventually drain my battery. Rush into the supermarket and forget what I wanted to get.  End up buying some milk and rush back to my car, the car with the dazzling inside light show.

Head back home and close the car door.  Of course, the electrical problem is still happening.  Rush into my home and drop off the milk.  Head back to my car and drive about two miles away.  I do this because I don't have home start on my breakdown cover.  When I mention breakdown cover, I do mean for the car.

Park up the car and phone the breakdown company.  One hour later, a guy shows up.  He checks out my car's electrical system and proceeds to scratch his ass, head.  "Don't know what's wrong with your car, mate.  I'll follow you back to your place and disconnect your battery", he stated.

Back home and he disconnects the battery.  He drives off and I think that my car, my worry-free car for over five years, my car, a Chevrolet Lacetti, a featured car on the UK version of Top Gear, has decided to teach me a lesson.

Of course, over the rest of the weekend, out of curiosity, I kept going to my car, reconnected the battery, only to have the same weird light show occur whenever the car door was closed.  Open the car door and the light show would magically stop.  Unplug the battery for a last time on the Sunday night.

Monday morning and the fun begins.  The first place I phone to hopefully get my electrical problem sorted cannot book my car in until Thursday.  I tell the guy on the phone I'd better check around because that was quite a long wait.  Then the real fun began.  Garage after garage stated they couldn't check the electrics via the onboard computer on a Chevrolet Lacetti.  I finally phoned this one place and the electronics expert mechanic told me he could not get the special code needed to check out my car's electrics because it was a Chevrolet.

Now my mind starts to have all sorts of weird thoughts.  "On no, I have a Chevrolet, a GM product, I have to go to Detroit!  I'll end up on some cargo ship and during some particularly rough seas, the truck with the frozen fish, right beside my car, dumps said frozen fish all inside my car window which I forgot to close.  The frozen fish thaw out and my car will become a haven for Detroit seagulls.  We end up on top of car transporter truck that actually heads to Detroit.  My car gets lowered down at the Detroit drop-off point for overseas Chevrolet vehicles with electrical faults. At this point, a bunch of Detroit gangsters steal all four wheels off my car...."  I snap out of my daydreaming and make one more phone call.

I phone back the garage that cannot book in my car until Thursday.  I mention this time that my car is a Chevrolet Lacetti. The dude I'm speaking to is the owner, somebody I've known for years and is totally honest.  Yes, a totally honest mechanic.  He explains he has a workaround if my car's computer wont cooperate.  He tells me he can "fool" my car into thinking it's a different brand of car. I kid you not.

In the meantime, I kept checking my car.  The electrical fault had vanished but I wasn't taking any chances.  Thursday morning and I left my car so the mechanic could fool its electrics.  That afternoon I phoned and I was told they had done the best they could but couldn't quite trace the problem. However, they said my car seemed fine and they recalibrated the car's computer as best they could.

Upon my arrival at the garage, I was preparing myself to pay for the work done.  "Gary", said Adrian, the owner of the garage, "I don't want any money for the work.  Besides, it appears that you may have actually corrected the underlying problem when you left the battery disconnected.  And Gary, it's nice to see you after such a long time!"  Even though I protested he was insistent that I didn't pay anything.  No charge, so to speak.  How very nice of Adrian.  If you live in Leek and you need your car sorted, I will recommend his garage.

As of right now, as in the fact I quickly dashed out to check my car, I can report my car still seems fine.

There you go.  A post done in under an hour.  If there are any tipos, typos, whatever!

I believe that when my car was plugged into the computer adjustment thingy, that it did get fooled. My Chevrolet is now an Aston Martin and I'm James Bond from the 1960's.  

Hitting The Red Lights.

There was a time, way back when, that I could do basic maintenance on a car.  Oh yeah, no problem tuning my very first car, a rather used 1964 Plymouth Valiant, complete with push button automatic transmission.  No problem changing the starter motor in my "Smokey and the Bandit" type car, a 1973 Dodge Polara.

I was very good at oil changing, lube jobs and fiddling with my dipstick.

These days, cars are computers on wheels.  Something goes wrong now and if I don't happen to have a mega expensive computer tuning thingy for my car, I have to rely on a mechanic to download new software, or whatever the hell they do, to get my car running properly.  Oh how I remember the battery going flat in one of my previous computer cars.  Not just a matter of replacing the battery, but a complete car computer retune just to have my car run efficiently.

Of course, when I take my latest car in for a simple check-up, the mechanic gives that concerned look and a sighing noise.  This means that what should be a cheap repair turns into a funding for the mechanic's dream vacation in Hawaii.

Okay, I understand I cannot just fix cars the way I used to.  However, something as simple as changing a brake light should be totally straightforward.  Right?  Well, no, actually.  Check the car manual to double check how to change the brake light.  Seems easy enough.  Just remove two screws from the side of the brake cover and away I go.  Wrong!  What the manual doesn't explain is that there are mystery plugs holding the brake cover in place.  Could I get the cover off?  No fucking chance!  Gone were the days of just opening some flap and changing the bulb.

Reluctantly and rather embarrassed, I headed off to the local car parts service centre.  On the way there, I hit every red light.  I shall return later and fix the red lights.  Still, it's better than jumping red lights.

Upon my arrival, the guy in the service centre noted my accent.  "Here we go again", I thought. Standing there, wearing a "Canada" baseball hat, the guy asks me "What part of the States you from, mate?  I always wanted to go to the States and be among the American people."  I replied, "I guess that means you want to go to Orlando to experience America."  "Oh no, mate, Orlando is full of bloody British tourists!  No, I want to get out into the small towns and see the real America." "Excellent!  There's a trailer park in Alabama just waiting for y'all", I responded.

"Ever thought about going to Canada?", I asked the dude.  "Yeah, that would be okay, I guess.  Oh, is that a Canadian accent you have?  Can't tell the difference!" he confessed.

We go out to my car and he notes I drive a Chevrolet.   "What a small Chevrolet.  They'd laugh at your car over there.  I mean, everything is bigger in the States, right mate?"  I nod in agreement.

He tries to remove my brake light cover to get to the brake light.  Like me, he has no joy.  A fellow employee comes over to help him and still no joy.  Both scratch their heads in unison.  Various tools are grabbed to try and pry off the brake light cover.  Still nothing.  As luck would have it, the local tug-of-war team are strolling by.  They attach a rope to one of the tools draping off my brake cover and give a mighty heave.  Finally, the brake cover pops off.

Okay, I made up the part about the tug-of-war team.  However, it took the two of them fifteen minutes to finally release the brake cover and put in a new brake light.  Being so much fun, I thought it best they replace the other brake light just in case it was about to burn out.

Yes, another typical day in my rather surreal life.  And yes, another posting done in rapid time without ever applying the virtual brake lights......

A Car Radio And A Foghorn.

Gosh and golly!  Real sorry I haven't been posting much lately.  I understand just how important my posts are to you.

Okay, I've been extremely busy with personal situations.  So much so that I haven't been able to delight you with my must-read postings.  Delusional moment is over.

Here's a short posting.   Feel free to thoroughly skim through this short posting.

A couple of nights ago.  Two in the morning.  I'm trying to get some sleep.  I cannot sleep thanks to the *thump*, *thump*, *thumping* racket I can here outside my bedroom window.  "Fantastic!",  I thought.   "Who the f**k is blaring out music at this unearthly time of the morning?  What inconsiderate pricks!"

I get dressed to go out and investigate.  Getting dressed is a good idea.  Out to the street and the noise becomes louder and louder.  To my embarrassment, the noise is coming from my car radio.  Somehow, it has switched on.  Oops, better open the car door and switch off the radio.  Actually, remove the radio from its casing.

For the first time in several days, I notice a thick layer of ice and frost on my car.  Predictably, all my locks are frozen solid.  Music blaring, gone two in the morning and I can't get into my car.  I visualise irate neighbours coming out to scream at me.  I start to worry about the police arresting me for disturbing the peace.

After several minutes, I manage to get the lock working on the passenger side.  I switch off and remove the offending radio from the casing.  I sneak back into the house.  Try to get some sleep.  No luck, as I'm kept awake by the foghorn aka my neighbour's snoring.

Speaking of switching off, I've switched off the comment section.  I'm trying to comment on as many other blogs as possible.  Time to try and catch up.  After all, my comments on other blogs are the subject to frantic bidding on eBay.  One of my comments was auctioned off at the princely sum of five cents.  Fancy that!

"Wait Here Until Green Light Shows"

Why is it that I always get the red light at the "3-Way Control" traffic lights?  "WAIT HERE UNTIL GREEN LIGHT SHOWS".  Why is it that there is either no workers to be seen, or they are standing around doing nothing?  Okay, I think I'm in for a long wait.  Might as well turn on the radio and listen to a bit of music. *Click*

Oh no!  Back to the days of bubblegum music.  Help!  Switch off the car stereo.  Which also makes me wonder, why is it that the car stereo sounds louder than you remembered from the last time you had it on?   I need to occupy myself while I'm waiting.  Not that!  Do some reading.  Yes, read the car manual.  Maybe figure out what all the little switches actually do.  So that's how you turn on the lights.  Skim past the wiper section.  Got that part well memorised.

When is that light going to change?

How come that right after you clean the car, the spider webs have returned to the mirror in a matter of seconds?

The light's still red.  Might as well have a snooze........"Hello my millions upon millions of adoring fans.  Yes, perfectly understandable that you consider my blog to be a must-read.  I know how you eagerly wait for my cherished postings.  Sing and dance, my adoring fans.  Celebrate the fact that you have the pleasure of reading my blogs............*BEEP!* ....*BEEP!* ....Huh?  What's happening?"

*BEEP!*.... *BEEP!* .... I looked in my rear-view mirror and there was some dude in a car gesticulating.  Yes, gesticulating as in waving his arms in a frantic fashion.  "Oops, sorry dude!"  Finally, yes finally, the light had changed to green!  Time to get going.........................

NOOOOOooooooo!!!!

The Following Blog Is Sponsored By...

The following blog is sponsored by...Well, actually, there is no sponsor on this here blog.  Yet it got me thinking about brands and brand name changes etc.
I recently purchased a Chevrolet automobile.  Yes, you read correctly, here I am living in England and I bought a Chevrolet.  Now the Chevrolet I bought used to be called a 'Daewoo'.  I remember the commercial for Daewoo with the catchy slogan, 'that'll be the Daewoo'.  Now the acquisition of the South Korean manufactured Daewoo by Chevrolet, which is part of the General Motors family, was of course, major, bordering on earth shattering news, here in Britain.  The biggest news since we realised that Richard Branson had 'Virginised ' virtually ever conceivable product or convenience known to man.  
I noted the name of my stereo system.  It is a 'Daewoo'.  So, I am now wondering if I can call my stereo a Chevrolet?  And why not.  After all, my colour television is a 'Mitsubishi'.
So brand names get changed.  'Datsun' becomes 'Nissan'.  'Kentucky Fried Chicken' now gets called 'KFC'. Banks change their names, but we still hate them.  For example, 'National Westminster Bank' becomes 'NatWest' (some call it 'NatWorst').  Chocolate bars cause confusion.  'Marathon' bars get renamed 'Snickers' only to be renamed 'Marathon'.  Thank goodness they have not thought of changing 'Mars' bars to the name of the planet that is between 'Saturn' and Neptune'.
The other day I was in my local 'Morrisons' supermarket, (which was once a 'Safeway' supermarket until Morrisons bought out British Safeway), to buy a tin of  'Campbell's' cream of chicken condensed soup.  Well, it turns out that Campbell's is now called 'Bachelors', but nobody bothered to inform me.  And speaking of supermarkets..the next thing you know someone will tell me something like 'Asda' has been purchased by 'Wal-Mart'.  'What?  They have?'
You may be wondering why the 'wee folks' are in the photograph.   I discovered them in my kitchen checking out my groceries.  It's a shame I did not have a more fitting cereal for them to eat.  Something like 'Lucky Charms'.  You know, Lucky Charms, 'they're magically delicious!'
To end this blog in a somewhat commercial way that demonstrates how brand names have been incorporated into everyday language; I present the following.  I decided to 'Hoover' the carpets.  After 'hoovering', I had this urge to sneeze, so I grabbed some 'Kleenex' and wiped my nose.  I then proceeded to the kitchen and rewarded myself with a bowl of 'Jello'.  Now you may have reached this blog by 'Googling'.....
Oh yeah..before I go...'Cadbury's' chocolate has been purchased by 'Kraft'.  What a thought.  Chocolate flavoured Kraft macaroni dinners.....