Like on most holidays, I spent today with my parents at their townhouse. It is usually a mix of talk, television, lunch, dinner, and dessert. And sometimes car work.
Today, one of the goals was to check the A/C system on my dad’s old Subaru. After measuring A/C pressure using an A/C manifold gauge, the valves will often spit a little bit of refrigerant out when you decouple them and this freaks me out every time. Well, today it did nothing. No pressure on the low valve, no pressure on the high valve. I wouldn’t consider myself skilled in A/C diagnosis, but this would seem to explain the complete lack of cooling when the A/C is switched on. Unfortunately, my dad only bought a 3oz can of refrigerant, when the full system takes 24. I’m not sure how confidant I would be filling it that much, however. There are several other components that can have issues.
I learned the hard way that the “Oh, just recharge your A/C!” marketing schtick is a dangerous one. The last time I did this, I overcharged the system on my old Honda because weak cooling equals recharge, right? Afterward, it would very audibly trigger the safety shut-off on my compressor while I was driving. Scared the heck out of me the first time it did this. It was like it jolted the whole vehicle. Fortunately(?) I already knew the system must be leaking, so it eventually leaked enough that it stopped forcibly shutting the compressor off. Consequently, I don’t have tremendous confidence working on the A/C system. Maybe if my dad buys a 12oz can I’ll load that in along with the 3oz can, but that’s all I would want to do.
After looking at these things, though, I started combing through my old tools in the garage. My parents can actually fit two cars in their garage, which is really awesome because it’s so common for people to simply use their garages as storage space. There are still plenty of things hogging space in there, though, and I have many tools I never use from the days of paranoia. I tried to round those tools up and labeled my extra part boxes. One of these days, my parents will probably be moving to another state to retire, and this could come sooner than I realize.
I can be a deeply sentimental person. To a fault, at times. But boy does that garage hold some memories. Some good, some bad. When I was in college, I had confined myself to the stereotype of bookworm, scholar, and reader. When I learned that I was decent with tools and could change things on cars, my whole world was opened up. I could write several posts on all the stupid things I’ve done in the process, but it’s certainly been a journey. Always in the garage, and always with dad popping in every now and then to check on my progress.
You know, there are only so many tools that are really useful. The socket sets and ratchets. The floor jack, jack stands, torque wrenches, two or three of the five ball joint separators I own. Other tools still make a big difference. Ratching wrenches. Penetrating oil. Time. That spill-free funnel for refilling the cooling system. Butt-savings tools like tap and die sets, and those star-shaped bolt-out sockets. I once successfully replaced a wheel bearing using a shop press and a set of metal sleeves that are part of a ball joint servicing kit (only marginally useful for ball joints…), but that was only once. But the minimalist in me longs to simplify.
It’s all just…I don’t know. I wanted to be able to solve everything on my car. To never have to take it to a mechanic. I spent so much when I bought my first car. There was so much stress. But there’s a cost to owning things. There’s a price to be paid for doing it all yourself. To being in control. It’s weird in the midst of the nostalgia, the memories, to realize that I’m no longer a broke college student, that I can let go of the fear that drove me so strongly in that direction. And fear is, quite frankly, probably what drove me to learn what I know about cars. The bad side being fear, the good side being drive and determination. A very powerful, if not misguided, combination.
And now feeling that longing in my heart to simplify my tool collection.
Many of those tools easily paid for themselves. I paid $100 for a set of five ball joint separators, and they have saved me that amount many, many times over. Even one-off $70 tools can be cheaper than the price of one hour of labor. (there is interesting economics behind this!)
There is also the longing in my heart to simplify what is in it.
Who are the friends I have held onto out of fear? What are the memories I have held onto because they ground my sense of persistence and sequence? What are the things I have bound myself to in order to establish my identity? If only I could let go of my fears, to simplify, to let go of my tenebrous anxiety, that cosmic background radiation.
I’ll never forget that cool breeze flowing into the garage on nice days like today. The warmth of home when I step back inside to wash my hands, or take a break, or celebrate victory, or mourn defeat. Some day this will change, too, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.