Mark is a bad driver, and he really hates it when I constantly point that fact out to him. A bad driver coupled with a broken horn, equals some very close calls. On more than one occasion I have screamed in terror as another car was careening towards us, while Mark beat on the horn button in a futile attempt to warn the other driver that we were not stopping.
Over the years I have owned a number of automobiles, and I always thought that I possessed a decent, basic knowledge of how to maintain one. I once even changed my own oil. The fact that I drained it out onto the ground shows my early disregard for the ecology. Hey, forty three years ago I didn't understand that the oil I drained into my dad's lawn came out of our kitchen faucet later on down the line. One time I even adjusted the tappets on a 1954 Studebaker, and I would have been proud of that achievement if it weren't for the fact that the car ran worse when I was done. So when I decided to replace the non-functioning horn on our PT Cruiser, I assumed that I was up for the job.
I went to the auto parts store and asked if they had a replacement horn that would give another person a heart attack. I was shown the 'Freeway Blaster'. So armed with my lethal new horn, I opened the hood on the PT Cruiser and searched for the broken horn. No horn under the hood. I then stuck my head under the front of the car assuming it must be hidden somewhere underneath. No horn there. I went on the internet and found out that I would have to jack up the car, remove the right front tire and the plastic inner fender, to access the horn. It sounded very complicated.
This all happened two years ago, and to this date we still don't have a working horn on the PT Cruiser. But it's not all that bad. Over the last few years Mark has developed a knack for letting other cars know that we are coming. If you are driving down the road and a blue PT Cruiser is behind you and there is a loud, squealing sound peppered with curses coming from it, just get out of the way. It's Mark.
Over the years I have owned a number of automobiles, and I always thought that I possessed a decent, basic knowledge of how to maintain one. I once even changed my own oil. The fact that I drained it out onto the ground shows my early disregard for the ecology. Hey, forty three years ago I didn't understand that the oil I drained into my dad's lawn came out of our kitchen faucet later on down the line. One time I even adjusted the tappets on a 1954 Studebaker, and I would have been proud of that achievement if it weren't for the fact that the car ran worse when I was done. So when I decided to replace the non-functioning horn on our PT Cruiser, I assumed that I was up for the job.
I went to the auto parts store and asked if they had a replacement horn that would give another person a heart attack. I was shown the 'Freeway Blaster'. So armed with my lethal new horn, I opened the hood on the PT Cruiser and searched for the broken horn. No horn under the hood. I then stuck my head under the front of the car assuming it must be hidden somewhere underneath. No horn there. I went on the internet and found out that I would have to jack up the car, remove the right front tire and the plastic inner fender, to access the horn. It sounded very complicated.
This all happened two years ago, and to this date we still don't have a working horn on the PT Cruiser. But it's not all that bad. Over the last few years Mark has developed a knack for letting other cars know that we are coming. If you are driving down the road and a blue PT Cruiser is behind you and there is a loud, squealing sound peppered with curses coming from it, just get out of the way. It's Mark.
Freeway blaster aha, I think I could do with one of those !
ReplyDeleteHave you checked the fuses?
ReplyDeleteToo funny! Get a bicycle horn. You know, the ones you squeeze a little rubber ball to force the air through the horn.
ReplyDeleteAH-OOOGAAAA!! Thats the sound I imagine!
ReplyDelete