The First Call
My tires would pass inspection but are looking a bit worn headed into winter. This was not unexpected. I say, Okay; get some good ones. I put in a minimum of 50 miles a day commuting; I live on steep hills for some tough winter driving; I don’t skimp on tires.
The Second Call
The I-don’t-remember-what-they’re-called gadgets that indicate tire pressure and trigger a little dashboard light if it’s less/more than 32 psi are busted. All four of them—busted after less than 4 years of use.
Oh, I remember what they’re called! Badly Engineered Bits of Crap. (Good on ya, Chrysler.)
He wants to know if I want him to replace them. I’m thinking, meh, might as well. I’m thinking, it’s a nice little perk for a busy commuter. I’m thinking, how much can these bits of crap cost? And I ask. And he says, $165.
Uh.
Each.
Each!? To have a little light come on to tell me that my tire pressure is a tad off is going to cost more than I’ll be paying for four good, brand-new tires? More than my next three car payments combined? More than 165 gallons of gas? More than a year’s supply of beer? More than a plane ticket to the beach?
When I stopped laughing I said, No thanks.
And he explained that the normal repair kit won’t work in my car; my car requires factory replacements, yada something yada, which is why it’s so expensive. And I agreed it was indeed expensive, and said, rhetorically, And what happens if I don’t have them?
And he, taking me literally, explains that I’ll never know if I have a flat.
hee hee!
I say, Well, I’ve been driving for more than 30 years without a little light to tell me to check my tire pressure; I think I’ll be all right.
Then he wants to know if I’ll sue him if I have a blow out.
Sigh. I’m not sure which is the worse portent: A society that places such value on cheap complicated crap that will do something that you could easily do yourself or one that employs lawyers more often than common sense. But—you can all be witnesses—I’m not going to sue this guy because he didn’t replace the BEBC (Badly Engineered Bits of Crap), aka TPMS (Tire Pressure Monitoring System).
The Third Call
It’s time to pick up my car.
I’m minus a dashboard indicator light, but the Sebring still has some other free and very useful gadgets to handle tire pressure: my eyes, my ears, my brain, and a tire gauge in the glove box.
September 25, 2012 at 9:10 am
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Life Preservers 
Inspection 2012
The First Call
My tires would pass inspection but are looking a bit worn headed into winter. This was not unexpected. I say, Okay; get some good ones. I put in a minimum of 50 miles a day commuting; I live on steep hills for some tough winter driving; I don’t skimp on tires.
The Second Call
The I-don’t-remember-what-they’re-called gadgets that indicate tire pressure and trigger a little dashboard light if it’s less/more than 32 psi are busted. All four of them—busted after less than 4 years of use.
Oh, I remember what they’re called! Badly Engineered Bits of Crap. (Good on ya, Chrysler.)
He wants to know if I want him to replace them. I’m thinking, meh, might as well. I’m thinking, it’s a nice little perk for a busy commuter. I’m thinking, how much can these bits of crap cost? And I ask. And he says, $165.
Uh.
Each.
Each!? To have a little light come on to tell me that my tire pressure is a tad off is going to cost more than I’ll be paying for four good, brand-new tires? More than my next three car payments combined? More than 165 gallons of gas? More than a year’s supply of beer? More than a plane ticket to the beach?
When I stopped laughing I said, No thanks.
And he explained that the normal repair kit won’t work in my car; my car requires factory replacements, yada something yada, which is why it’s so expensive. And I agreed it was indeed expensive, and said, rhetorically, And what happens if I don’t have them?
And he, taking me literally, explains that I’ll never know if I have a flat.
hee hee!
I say, Well, I’ve been driving for more than 30 years without a little light to tell me to check my tire pressure; I think I’ll be all right.
Then he wants to know if I’ll sue him if I have a blow out.
Sigh. I’m not sure which is the worse portent: A society that places such value on cheap complicated crap that will do something that you could easily do yourself or one that employs lawyers more often than common sense. But—you can all be witnesses—I’m not going to sue this guy because he didn’t replace the BEBC (Badly Engineered Bits of Crap), aka TPMS (Tire Pressure Monitoring System).
The Third Call
It’s time to pick up my car.
I’m minus a dashboard indicator light, but the Sebring still has some other free and very useful gadgets to handle tire pressure: my eyes, my ears, my brain, and a tire gauge in the glove box.
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September 25, 2012 at 9:10 am 2 comments