confessions of a sometimes stunt driver

when launching cars off onramps, it is imperative, nay more effective if one can do so without actually damaging anything.

the things i've heard from this latest stunt

again. (my mom, apparently keeps track of these things)

you've done this before (my sister, consort to the recordkeeper)

uy. (my mechanic)

i thought you'd belabor missing bly and brush over the accident. (my best friend, knows me well but didn't account for shock and gratitude)

i try to keep you guessing kids.

i've come to the conclusion they should ordain mechanics. though greasy wafers don't sound ideal, it would save everyone a lot of time.

why you ask, why i'll tell you.

one cannot long function without utter honesty to both priests and mechanics. nothing but standing naked before them, however humiliating the story may be, will do. to dub these fellows, either the priest with mechanical ability or the mechanic with priestly duties would allow for some multitasking.

the great problem of our day is specialization. everyone is so specialized, no one speaks common language anymore. proofs, give me certainties, give me the facts but only if you're a phd in your field with tweny years experience. not many qualify. by those standards we should be the quietest, least opinionated bunch of people around. but the human condition has not, will not change. we will always find little soap boxes and stand upon them.

another problem i see with ordained mechanics is the vestments, unless we could get the priest into overalls, i don't see how the robes and drapy bits would not get caught in the innerworkings of a car.

my mechanic does cuss freely. but he does it with a smile and granfatherly, albeit santaclausean style, it is almost admirable. though, i will admit it might offend some churchgoers, but he is the best mechanic with the best prices, so maybe that would be a uniting force.

i laid out my story for him (the whole thing, mind you) he shook his head and laughed.

let's lift her up,

he says. like a surgeon ready to do exploratory surgery.

then took a crowbar and bent something back in the undercarriage. tightened a bolt of somesort.

for the sake of a good story, i opened the trunk and showed him the rim and tire. i remember it was all gnarled.

no gnarles, i said,

huh. looked worse out there.

so, he gets it out, airs it up and turns to the other mechanic wrenching away on a truck on a lift.

you ever heard of blowing a tire off the rim, breaking the seal and not being damaged?

the other mechanic mumbled,

no.

laughing, my mechanic produces an airaeter for spraying pesticides. only this one is full of dish soap and makes a nice bubbly concoction for checking for leaks.

he covers the entire tire and says,

i'll fill it up all the way then you drive around for a couple of days and we'll see if it holds air. right now, i don't trust it. but it's a new tire. shame to waste it.

yes.

i smiled.

now if he could have served me the eucharist and absolved me of my sins. that would have been something. but i'm likely not thinking of his time, or the details of breaking out the grape juice and crackers.