Features

My Curse

Posted on: March 30, 2007

By Kim Ward

Throughout my life I have come to accept the curse I have been given. While in high school, an aptitude test indicated I would be best suited for heavy labor, sanitation engineer, mechanic or flight attendant. While none of those career choices appealed to me, I thought it was interesting to discover the test showed I was mechanically inclined. By looking at a group of flywheels and knowing how the fifth one would turn apparently makes me adept at mechanics. Being a “grease monkey” was not part of my plans of being rich and famous. With money, you can pay someone else to bang there knuckles and get oil in there hair.

Unfortunately, my plans did not go according to my plans. Infamy and fame are miles apart and being flat broke has become a central theme in my life. Thanks to bad credit and some tax liens, the ability to buy a new car under some sort of warranty has eluded me. Except for the one time, on the road to infamy, I was able to purchase a fairly new truck which blew out its tranny twice before it had 30,000 miles on it. I believe this is more proof towards the credibility of my curse. The truth is every vehicle I have owned has had serious mechanical problems all of which I have had to learn to fix due to the lack of the almighty green stuff.

Currently, I have five automobiles of which only NONE of them runs reliably. Having never been formally trained in mechanics I have had to rely on my mechanical inclination to get me through some of the problems encountered. The buckets of bolts I can get to start have a plethora of problems which limits my ability to travel.

My old Ford truck lost a bearing, after fixing the bearing the fuel pump quit working immediately. One car had a clutch go bad, after replacing the clutch the motor blew a head gasket within a week. Another car overheats; everything in the cooling system has been replaced within the last year and a half. Finally a small hose with a partial blockage was discovered. I was able to drive it a whole 40 miles before the ignition suddenly quit working. CURSES, foiled again! Right when a problem is solved another one rears it’s ugly head.

A theory has begun to take hold in my head. No matter what I fix on a car, it seems to reject the idea. I believe it is a sign. Either I have offended a mechanic who is now amongst the dead or I should have heeded the high school aptitude test and become a flight attendant…or a mechanic. Is there someone out there who can relieve my curse? This is a desperate cry for help on curse abatement. Banging my knuckles and getting oil in my thinning hair is getting old, and my wife would appreciate a reduction in my colorful language whenever I am forced to work on these mechanical demons.

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