"Hey, Terry...the car's making a funny noise."

Having supper at Grandmom's and Granddad's last night...

"Well, what does it sound like?"

"Oh, I don't know, sort of a rumbly boiling sound--rrrrrrbbrbbrrrrbrbrbruggh--like when the stuff in the engine boils out, but without that weird smell. Ashley said it sounded like a plane flying overhead."

"Hm. Does it stop when you put the brake on?"

"I don't know."

"Do you hear it all the time?"

"Uhh, I don't know, maybe."

"Do you hear it when you turn or accelerate?"

"I think I heard it as I was coming up the hill. Maybe."

"How long has it been doing it?"

"I don't know, maybe a couple of weeks or a month."

It is at this point in my narrative that I invite readers to go over to my old GeoCities site, where I long ago posted a few short essays. One of them is called "Boy Things--Things I Tell My Son." It is a small list of words of wisdom which I struggle to impart into my lad. Part of the list is devoted to picking out a girl to date/marry/go hunting with. One of those criteria is being knowledgeable about cars.

There is a reason for this.

"Well, I'll drive it home and let you drive the van home, and I'll see if I can figure out what it is."

Finish supper, load kids up (who had been at the in-laws so Mom could run get her hair fixed. It looks REALLY good by the way), and I get into the lap of 1994 Oldsmobile 88 luxury and get ready to go.

Turn on ignition, turn off radio. Nothing odd.

Put in gear. Sound of car shifting into Reverse.

Take foot off brake pedal, back slowly into street and apply brake again. GGGGGRAAAAAAAUUUUNCHHH. Oh. My. Sweet. Georgia. Brown. (Or thoughts to that effect)

Shift into Drive, begin to pull forward, apply brakes...GGGGGG--GGRRRRAAAAAWWWWWWW--NNNNNCH--RRNCH--RRNCH

Brakes.

Brake rotors worn so thin and fine that they could be served up with Grand Marnier and whipped cream at the Magic Pan. Brakes ground to the bare nubbins of atoms, useful only for making heat and noise. Brakes which felt like I had large millstones attached to the front axles, being grasped by arthritic monkeys holding handsful of aquarium gravel. ::sigh::

Took car in this morning to my buddies at Alignment by Ingram.

That funny sound is $287.88 exiting the bank account.

Gee, just what I always wanted for Christmas!
posted by Terry at 12:28:00 PM