I can do this!

As I may have mentioned, I have a love/hate relationship with my truck. I'm a typical 4x4 owner in that this beast only gets on trails once in a blue moon and has only had the "Low" and "Hill Assist" engaged while in the driveway. Because of this, every repair has to be carefully considered because, in the end, there's a price tag on how much I love Big Blue.
Last month, while battling potholes I notice she is a little bouncy so when her fluids are changed, I ask them to check it out. As is typical, the verdict is "the whole thing is shot and will cost $10K to replace." In this case, the whole thing is referencing the air suspension. A feature that lets the driver add 6 inches of clearance when traversing boulders or drop 3 inches when in "sport mode" (which I found out also drops the gas mileage to half it's already low mpg, but that's another story). This fancy air suspension is what I love best about the truck, although I never use it as intended. I simply get joy from looking at the terrain dial and imagining myself in the life of the person who gets to use it.
I tell the repair man that I need to consider it and drive off, bouncing a little more over every bump and ridge.
Fast forward to today. I run out of the house at 5am because we're out of coffee. On the drive, I hear a terrible crunching noise and the other thing the repair man said comes flashing back in my brain, "And your front bearings deperately need to be replaced." Of course they do. Though "desperate" was a month early by the sounds of it.
I get home, brew a pot, and hop on the interwebs, looking up the noise, making sure I have the diagnosis right. Everything is out on the web now, with men in driveways sharing videos of how they are fixing their trucks and saving thousands! I'm 7 minutes into a video about Front Hub Replacement when my lovely bride comes up behind me wiping the sleep from her eyes.
"I need to fix Big Blue," I say to her, right as the video guy starts whacking away at his old hub assembly with loud cracks. I mean, he's really whacking the heck out of this thing.
She puts her hand on my shoulder, leans in, and squinting at the monitor says, "Like you fixed the screen door?"
I turn back to the monitor and she heads to the kitchen.
Once she's out of the room, I look over at the screen door. You know, the one Wilson the Amazing Border Collie punched through last summer. The loose screen part flaps a friendly "hello" to me in the wind.
I turn back, click the red X in my browser and make a mental note to review my budget and call the car guy.
|