I needed a new head gasket.

One of the things I love about driving a Japanese car is nothing breaks.  So when something does, prematurely, aren’t head gaskets supposed to leak sometime after 100,000 miles?, I always wonder if I’m being ripped off.

My father believed in the dealer.  But an independent mechanic will give you an honest appraisal, he’ll tell you you can drive for a while, not to worry.  Because usually the independent has more experience.  Then again, the only indies I’ve gone to used to work at the dealership, I’m not about to go foraging for someone new just to save a few dollars.  Still…

And it’s even worse when they say it’s not critical, that you don’t have to fix it today.  Okay, I’m coming in for service again in about seven months…  TOO LATE!  Your sparkplugs could be fouled, your engine could miss!  Okay, you sold me, just do it.

So what started out as a routine oil change turned into a $500 bill.

And I’m so frustrated and dejected that I decide to walk home.  It’s not close, but it’ll give me time to chill out, otherwise I’ll be bouncing off the walls.  But when the service writer just called to say my machine was ready and offered me a ride back, I took it.

He said the driver would call me on my cell.

He didn’t.  He beeped.  I wasn’t sure it was him.  I went outside.  There was someone turning around in the next driveway in a make unlike the one I drive but it turned out to be my ride, I told him to wait a second for me to go inside and get my wallet and my keys.

I always talk to the driver.  He’s doing me a favor.

But I remember Coran Capshaw telling me he always talks to the runner.  You learn more from the person on the street than the one in the ivory tower.

And this man is complimenting my neighborhood.  Which begs the obvious question, where does he live?

And after learning he owns two houses in the Fairfax district, I asked him how long he had been working at the dealership.

Twenty three years.

Whew!

I remarked that you’re lucky to have a job at all today.

And that’s when he started pouring out his philosophy.

You can’t sit on the sidelines, you can’t turn down a nine dollar an hour job waiting for one that pays eighteen.  You can never make up the money you lose staying home.  You’ve got to take any job.  And do anything they tell you. Because if you show you can work, you’re gonna get a raise.

And I thought how knowledgeable this guy was.  The hardest thing is finding a good employee, someone you can trust.  You don’t want to blow him out to save five bucks, you want to overpay him to get him to stay!

Still, the guy owned two houses…  Did his wife work?

Well first of all, he almost lost both houses, he borrowed too much money to remodel, based on their present value, as opposed to the hundred grand he paid for them back in 1997.

But no, he’s not married.  He’s divorced.  Back in 1999.

Did he have someone new?

No.  Girls today want someone with money.  Who’s young.  He’s fifty four.  And he’s got two grandchildren.  But he’s not gonna stay at home like he once did.

Yes, for five years after his divorce this guy stayed at home watching television.  He was just too depressed to leave, to engage.

If that ain’t the modern condition.

And he talked about wanting that five years back.

I want the ten years back that I wasted after my divorce.

But one day he said enough.  He opened the front door and put on a smile.

How did he do it?  How did he motivate himself?

He punched his heart and then pointed to the sky.  Himself and God.

Good for him.  I needed psychotherapy.  Too many people take the easy way out, they kill themselves, or live quiet lives of desperation.

Even though it was difficult he put on a happy face.  And he discovered the energy he gave out came back in spades. If he was nice, people were nice to him.  He made all kinds of new friends.

And then we were in the garage.

I got distracted by the cashier.

I did a post mortem with the service writer.

I wanted to leave, but they were washing my car.

And that’s when I noticed the man hunched over the hose was my driver.