Problems with the Buick

 I had a small problem with the Buick while filling it up at Thorntons the other day.

I always use my credit card to pay outside.  Doing so forces me to interact with the gas pump.  Feels a little silly.  Black print on a small gray screen asks for my zip code, which I provide, and asks me three questions every damn time, to which I always respond by pushing the NO arrow.

              Are you a Refreshing Rewards Club Member?        NO - I belong to too many things now.

              Would you like to join and save $.03 blah blah        NO – I don’t care

              Would you like a receipt?                                          NO – I got them for years. Never wrong. 

I just want the gas.  Maybe a hot dog.  I’m always aware, standing out there between the Buick and the gas pump, how close I am to the jumbo wieners turning slowly on the roller grill inside the station, shiny with fat, with soft warm buns in the drawer beneath them, and the fresh condiments next to the grill.

It was quite a blow, during the pandemic, when Thorntons went to foil packets only for condiments.  Mustard and ketchup in packets, pitiful dehydrated onions in some chemical soup in a packet, and sludgy packets of relish.  Want a hot dog with the works?  Here you go, take it or leave it.  I declined.  I understood their health concerns, but it was a huge loss.

To their credit, Thortons is slowly bringing fresh condiments back. They sell a lot of hot dogs at their Ottawa store by I-80, which means the dogs and condiments move fast and stay fresh.  Currently they have four little bins with spoons and clear plastic covers containing chopped white onions, sauerkraut, jalapeno peppers, and sweet pickle relish.  Yet to make an appearance are sport peppers, dill pickle spears, and celery salt.  Added to their current condiment buffet is an array of squeeze bottle condiments: yellow mustard, spicy brown mustard, Sriracha, ketchup, and mayo.  The wieners may cook on a roller grill, but Thorntons is the hot dog condiment king.

I skipped the hot dog that day.  I was nearly empty and would no doubt spend plenty on the gas alone.  After getting the gas pumping, I checked the Buick’s oil.  I don’t check it every time because the Buick has never used oil.  It’s a 2006 Lucerne with a 3.8-liter engine and 156,000 miles.  It still runs like a top.  I probably check the oil every other time I fill up.   

I popped the release, pushed up the hood, and put a wooden stick between the hood and the grill.  The pneumatic arm that keeps the hood up wore out.  Happened sometime last winter.  I found a stick the perfect length.  It fits neatly hidden in a tray up by the windshield.  I always planned to get that fixed.

That V-6 Buick engine sits sideways under the hood.  The dipstick is right in front, bright yellow plastic that’s easy to see and grab.

When I pulled the circle handle the dipstick came out hard like it was stuck.  I wiped it off with a blue paper towel I keep tucked under a metal strap towards the headlight.  But when I went to put it back in, it wouldn’t go.  It was stopped by something.  I’ve been driving cars and tractors for sixty years and that’s never happened.  Couldn’t check the oil.  Dipstick wouldn’t go in.  I stuck the point of my pocketknife in the tube that receives the dipstick and found nothing. I used the flashlight on my phone to try to see down into the hole but didn’t see anything.

“I’ll be damned,” I said.

Don’t know if I said it out loud or to myself.  When you’re by yourself a lot you lose track.  I threw the dipstick into the Buick on the passenger side, held up the hood, removed the stick, tucked it into its place, and let the hood slam shut.  My tank was full ($43.00 and some change).  When I started up the Buick its check engine light came on.  I drove away perplexed. 

I called Jim Boe’s independent gas station downtown.  They feature non-descript gas and Firestone Tires.  Jim is gone now you know, but family is carrying on.  They know the Buick pretty well.  A woman answered the phone.

“Hey, I have a funny problem with my 2006 Buick.  I can’t get the dipstick to go back in.  Is that something the guys in the shop can help me with?”

“I don’t know.  Let me check.”

It was an old landline phone.  I heard it clunk as she put it on the counter and while she was gone the murmur of people talking.  You don’t hear that much anymore.

“Yeah, they say come in anytime.”

I had things to do.  Believe it or not, retired people do get busy.  I went in the next day.  That same woman was behind the counter.

“I’m the guy that called the other day with the dipstick problem.”

She laughed. 

“We have just the guy to help you.”

A young guy, big with a full red beard came out and smiled.  He was holding something like a long ice pic with a crook on the end.

“I think I know what’s wrong with that dipstick.”

We walked out to the drive.  I popped the hood release and propped open the hood with the stick.  He didn’t say a word.

‘You got it still?  The old dipstick?”

I pulled it out from the passenger side.  He took one look at it and knew what was wrong.

“There’s a little collar on these now with an O ring.  Started putting them in when they came out with Check Engine lights.  Even a little drop in oil pressure makes the light come on.  See this?  Your collar is gone.  It’s probably down in that tube blocking your dipstick from going in.”’

“I’ll be damned.  I’ve been driving all these years and never heard of that.”

“It happens.  I had one yesterday.  Dipstick handles are plastic after all, and right next to that hot engine block.  Guess it only lasts so long.  This Buick’s a 2006 right?  I’d say 15 years is maybe the limit.  With any luck I can fish it out and get you going again.”

He went down into the Buick’s dipstick hole, I guess you’d call it, with the tool he had in his hand.  It looked homemade.  He pulled it out.

“There’s your O ring.”

Little black circle on the end of his finger. He handed it t me and went back in.  After some shifting and prying around, he appeared to get an angle on something, and drug it back up. Handed me a small yellow plastic crescent.

“There’s half that collar.  Let me see if I can get the other half.  If not, it will more than likely just fall into your oil pan and come out at your next oil change.  Better if I can grab it though.”

In a minute or so he came out with the other half.

“There you go.  Your dipstick technically would still work, but your Check Engine light would always be on, and you’d just figure it was that bad dipstick.  You ought to get a good one.  We keep a few in the back off wrecks and stuff.  Let me see if I can fix you up.”

He was gone a few minutes and then returned.

“No luck.  But they got them at NAPA.  Probably in stock.  Won’t cost you much.”

“Wow.  Thanks very much.  What do I owe you?”

“Nothin’.  Think of us when you need tires.”

“That’s very nice of you.  Thanks again.”

He smiled.

“Say, what do you know about this arm with the cylinder supposed to keep the hood up?”

“Same deal.  They wear out too.  When we work on old cars with bad cylinders like that, we just use vise grips.  Clamp ‘em right here.”

He showed me the spot.

“Works fine.  You can buy those at NAPA too if you want.  Cost you a little more than the dipstick though.  Easy to replace. You can do it yourself.”

He showed me how.  Two screws.  Easy peasy.

“Sure you don’t want anything for this?  You‘re giving me not only free labor but free advice too.”

“No.  Really.  That’s why we’re here.”

 

A new dipstick and hood support were $59.00 at NAPA.  I haven’t gotten around to fixing the hood deal, but I will soon.  I considered getting a cheap pair of vise grips and keeping them in the same place as the stick but that’s not right.  I like to keep the Buick in relatively good shape.  That car has been good to me, and I want to be good to it.  I figure the pandemic added at least a year if not more to the useful life of the Buick.  I barely drove it.  And while I know we’re going through a bad time still with COVID and this Delta variant, it’ll get better.  Has to.  We can’t lose hope. 

After I put that new part on the hood, I’m going to do some serious clean-up on the Buick.  The garden has been hard on it.  I got a lot of dirt in the trunk, and more on the floorboards.  A good vacuuming would do a world of good.  All the vinyl, sidewalls of the tires too,  could use a good wipe down with Armor All. 

The Buick and I haven’t been on a solo road trip since 2018.  I can’t believe it’s been that long. Those road trips in retirement take me back to when I traveled in the ’70s.  I was mainly hitchhiking then, and that’s apparently over.  But there is something about being on the road with time on my hands and all my thoughts to myself that pulls on me.  I have some maintenance issues of my own I need to take care of before I head out.  But I’m anxious to get out there again.  It makes me feel free.

I better see how much tread the Buick has on those tires.