I’m not sure how many of y’all work on your own cars; I’m assuming all of the guys, at least, because if a guy can’t change his own oil, he probably drinks wine coolers and has seen Yanni in concert. Multiple times. Anyway, this column is for those of my readers who grease their own bearings, enjoy rebuilding carburetors, and know what a U-joint is. (Not that I do.)
This weekend HW and I are going on a road trip, and I was overdue for an oil change, so I went ahead and took care of it. There are many important steps to changing fluids that I have learned and developed over years of practice. Rule One is, wait until the engine has cooled significantly; I discovered this one when I was in a hurry to get the job done once and somehow splashed 190 degree dino-juice into my eye. There is a word to describe the pain I felt, and that word is “AAADKJAKAJJAKFJAKDLKFUCKDJFDALKLAJDFAKJLKJLSKJLFKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”
Keeping that agonizing flashback in mind, I got home yesterday around 6:30 and immediately sat down to play a game of NCAA Football 2004 while I waited for the truck to cool. (I whooped Clemson’s ass, 28-7.) When that was done, I watched the Simpsons; then I played another game (barely beating UMD 17-14 to take the ACC championship and an invitation to the Orange Bowl).
Around 8:15, I changed clothes and made my way outside. Rule Two: make sure you have plenty of paper towels handy. This is a rule I learned when I ruined a nice pair of jeans and my wife stuffed me into the washing machine and set it to “hot wash, cold rinse, extended spin cycle.” I grabbed a big roll of towels out of the garage, along with my plastic oil pan, my socket wrench, and a 5/8″ socket (Rule 3: Make sure all your tools are handy), and slid under the truck. I undid the oil bolt and luke-warm fluid came a-streamin’ out.
Then I got up to find a new filter and properly lube it. This when when I developed Rule 4: make sure you have a replacement filter BEFORE draining all the oil from your vehicle. In conjunction with this, I quickly learned rule 4a: also make sure you have actual oil to replace that which you have removed, and 4b: if you are going to forget to do 4 and 4a, at least make sure someone is around that can drive you to Pep Boys.
While walking the half-mile to the store, I learned rule 5: standing in front of the local police station and weeping loudly will get you the attention of the constabulary, who will assume you have escaped from the rehab center next door.
Luckily, PB was still open (Rule 6: Call to make sure of that before leaving the house). I grabbed 6 quarts of oil and the proper filter and headed to the front, where I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the front windows. With my grubby jeans, worn flannel, and stained work coat, I realized I looked rather insane. Or perhaps it was the muttering and severe facial twitch, I’m not entirely sure.
I walked back home, changed the filter and put oil back in, and went inside to enjoy a tasty beer. Then I realized I had to dispose of the old oil, so I poured it into a couple milk jugs (Rule 7: always save milk jugs to put used oil in), spilling a significant portion of it on the driveway ’cause I have the fine motor control of Formica, and went back inside.
I probably should take the used oil back to Pep Boys this week, but I have a really nice collection of it going in the garage, and I figure the next occupants of the house can find a use for it.
