Gremlinbusters, part III

(Which one does not belong?)

Sunrise. All is calm in a particular town in BC. The more-than-fashonably late summer season has stuck around for a few days already. Somewhere, in a semi-industrial sector lies a shop, one that specializes in Italian cars. The shop's been there for quite some time, yet there's something there that doesn't fit – something that shouldn't belong, but does anyway.

Gremlinbusters, part II

(When there's a will...)

How do you get a car with no handbrake and brake lights somewhere 50 kilometers away, to get that all fixed?

Some are quite content with taking their chances and driving the car there. The fingers on the hand that doesn't have to do the shifting are crossed – necessary so that the back of the car doesn't meet the gaze of any police officers, and that the route doesn't contain any uphills, despite Google Maps saying otherwise.

Gremlinbusters, part I

(The start of a few days' work.)

The time has come.

Like I mentioned I shall do a few posts ago, I have taken the Fića to a mechanic specializing in Italian cars – his shop being an hour's drive from the Fića's home usual parking space.

A detailed tear-down, diagnosis, and subsequent repair of all faulty areas is going on right now, which will be posted on the blog. Stay tuned.

First gear

I am proud to say, the Fića has gotten closer to the point of owning the streets under its own power! As you'll recall, the first electrical gremlin is history: it now starts like it should, without secret handshake or hesitation. However, the second gremlin still persists, but it has sobered up a bit.

Diagnosis

Have a look at the part in the above picture. Don't pay attention to what it looks like, or what surface it's on. Focus on what the part represents.

No, I'm not trying to be poetic, even though it really seems like it. That part represents the possibility of a solved problem – it brings with it new conclusions and an answer to an old question.

Review: 2010 Chevrolet Silverado

The universe holds some particularly sad truths. One is that people have lots of potential, but only few realize even half of it. Instead, they allow themselves to be distracted by things that don’t matter, and lose consciousness of the what's really important.

These people view realizing their potential as too much work, a sentiment that's cemented with every minute that passes by. Their lower two cheeks get so deep into the couch that one day, they begin to lash out at those that have put in the necessary effort and made something of themselves.