Live 'n learn...well, maybe just live.

In an attempt to save money and keep our trucks working so our sign company can make money, I took on the task of replacing the water pump in the larger of our two bucket trucks yesterday (also because our smaller bucket truck is already in the repair shop costing us big money). It went pretty well, really, and did spare us substantial cost. While working on it, I noticed the date written on the oil filter…my how time flies…better do an oil change too. Unlike cars and quick-stop oil change centers, you can’t do an oil change on a big truck for $15.95. Using my own tools, our own shop, my own labor, purchasing only the oil and the filters, it still costs upwards of $75. Anyway…

As I was changing the oil, a now humorous (back then, humbling) experience came to mind. In my senior year of high school, I worked at Plymouth Oil Co. - the prominent local gas station/auto repair shop at that time. I was a gas jockey/grease monkey/garage cleaner/tire changer – “auto technician” wasn’t a term used much back then; the best we could hope for was “mechanic”. One Saturday, one of the owners of the business asked me to do an oil change on his Lincoln. Hey, cool…makin’ points with the boss, I thought. He tossed me the keys, I drove it in, put it up on the hoist and worked my magic. With the deft aptitude of a pit crew pro, I drained the oil, removed the filter and prepped a new one, reinstalled the drain plug, did a grease job, rotated the tires and after gracefully lowering his cherished ride back to the earth, finished by adding new oil and checking the fluids, belts and battery. That went well. Carefully, I backed his Lincoln out of the bay and drove it across the parking lot, just happening to pass directly in front of the window through which my boss was watching. Quite confidently, I jumped out of the car, flipped the keys around my index finger and stopped dead in my tracks. Funny, how a trail of fresh 10w40 across a parking lot, accurately illustrating the course one just drove, can immediately turn one from strutting mechanic to puddle of humility (much like the one under the car). My boss only spoke three words, "I'm not impressed". It left quite an impression on me though; since that day I've never forgotten to install a new oil filter.

Well, now I'm the boss; the days of making stupid mistakes are long gone. My skills have been honed and it's all second nature to me now. I remember that day and chuckle as the first gallon of fresh oil goes into my truck. I'm glad that doesn't hap...hey...wha...awwww! Stupid drain plug!

...i'm not impressed.

~Steve