Love of Glendora

Apparently my car has a love affair with its mechanic, because at 6:30 this morning, that’s where I ended up heading, not to be a volunteer of the KCRW pledge drive, one of the local NPR affiliated stations in the area.

My car also seems to have an allergy to the 10 Freeway, the freeway I use the most when I bother taking the freeway these days. At 5:30 in the morning, when I left, it really does only take 15 minutes to cover the 12 miles from my place to Santa Monica. Or something close to. But in climbing the hill and turn of the on-ramp to get on the freeway, that was when Bubbles decided to die. At first I thought it was because I was in too high of a gear, and shifted down, but no, she just wouldn’t start then. I rolled back down the hill, figuring it would be better to be visible at the beginning of the entrance, rather than a surprise for anyone driving up, and a very kind gentleman coming off the freeway offered to help me, and ended up pushing my car with his truck back across the street, out of the way. Thank god it was pre-major rush hour, and we only inconvenienced a half dozen vehicles, rather than scores if it had taken place two or three hours later.

The last time my car broke down and refused to start was also on the 10, on Halloween night, heading from Santa Monica. That was when I had discovered this new mechanic. Since in October I had no income, and I had the thought it was the clutch but didn’t know how soon I would be able to pay for any repairs, I called my cousin who owns a house in Glendora and asked if I could leave the car there for an unknown time period. He was the second person I called, the first not answering, and as I had no cash in my wallet, even if I had my car towed to my friend’s place, I still needed a ride and cash to take any public transit to get home, I figured it would be safer to go where I could actually reach someone by phone. My cousin’s wife, a wonderfully open, generous, sweet woman, said of course I could and even stay the night if needed. Which I did. And got to play with my nephews? Second cousins twice removed? My cousin’s kids, in other words.

The reason it was so difficult to think of someone to take my car to had to do with the fact that most of my friends live in apartments or condos, and only have parking available for themselves. Unlike suburbia or the rural lands, I know of only two people who have driveways and garages all to themselves. I probably know more, but those are the only people whom I have been to their houses to know this to be true. And a lot of cities around here have limits to parking overnight, so you can’t just leave a car parked on the street. So a driveway was essential.

I had my car repaired in November, after calling around and finding a mechanic that specialized in Volkswagens, and whose clutch repair prices were $500 to a $1000 cheaper than VW dealerships and other mechanics physically closer to where I live. In fact, the mechanic was a mere three miles from my cousin’s house, a very good reason to take it there. I had been happy with his work and prices, and it is a father/son business, and they even sent me a Christmas card thanking me for my patronage. All good reasons in my book to continue going there.

So off we went this morning.

Seriously, I think my car just wants to have a mechanic lay hands on her, give her a massage and a tweak, and she is happy again.

It was raining this morning, and it turned out that the housing for the wires that create the spark for the ignition had corroded, and thus when it got wet inside the engine compartment, the ignition refused to work. Of course, once we got to the mechanic and he asked had I tried to start it since it died, I said no, and Bubbles immediately started for him. I made a petulent face in Bubbles’ direction, annoyed at her behaviour.

And he replaced some other things that needed replacing, and fixed the flashing temperature light I had been driving with, not concerned about since the temperature had been fine for the past 700 miles of driving. The coolant overflow tank was leaking, so as coolant overflowed, it was not going back into the radiator as it should and was slowly decreasing in volume, thus the warning light alerting me to do something about it. All fixed now.

And that’s how this month’s paycheck got spent. The one I haven’t even received yet. The killer part of this whole scenario, is that it was my plan, when I received said paycheck, to make an appointment with the mechanic to go deal with the flashing temperature light and see if anything else needed fixing. But as this was a problem that would only show up on rare days in Southern California when it was actually raining, the problem may not have been found. So it is just as well, I say.

And, I got to visit my favorite coffee shop in Glendora, right on historic Route 66, about a mile from my mechanic, a peaceful, unpopulated coffee shop, which I too can become a franchise owner of! I sat next to the fireplace, in a comfortable chair, sipping my coffee and watching the rain fall. The coffee shop I only visit when my car breaks down, that I had been thinking of recently, wanting to visit again. So all in all, my car may just be psychic.

Peace and Tranquility in Glendora Cafe

Peace and Tranquility in Glendora Cafe

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One Response to “Love of Glendora”

  1. gary Says:

    That’s the silver lining isn’t it?
    And NO, I don’t walk on ice or do certain things. Remember Charlie Brown and Lucy, he discovers he has a phobia of EVERYTHING?????

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