Etiquette says... One Night At Walmart. Uh huh. And for all the times we've been patrons of the Night Stoppers of Walmart society... that's 'zactly what we done.
This night shall be our Third night, courtesy of Walmart. Parked it with a lame truck Saturday afternoon and received the clearance that we'd have no trouble, so we could get into the shop Monday morning.
Monday morning rolled around, right on schedule... the truck rolled into the Dealers yard, right on schedule... and right on schedule that @#%$ Murphy showed up.
Now, in amongst all the wires and hoses and confabulationary plumbing and hardware that constitutes the guts and structure of a modern diesel truck lives a thing called the ECM. That's engineer speak for engine control module.
Fabulous lil' boxes. They tell the engine how to run and when to do it in a fashion that makes these late model rigs run the old thumpers of my youth to gasping wrecks trying to keep up.
Uh Huh... right up until they don't. Now, in the old days when the side of your carburetor blew out, you could look in there under the hood and say; "Aw Hell! The side of the carburetor blew out!" The fix was simple. Bolt on a fresh one.
Now, you have to ask that ECM and it's lil' recording devices; "What ail's you son?" and 99.9% of the time it pops up a CODE that tells you 'zactly what's ailing. Uh HUH. Not 100% I said 99.9%
Any of you still wonderin' what % I stumble around in? You thought YOU were special? HA! I live with the sure and certain knowledge that I ain't no 1%er... I am a .1 %er... you see that lil' bitty POINT there in front of the 1 right?
Yup... that fancy ee-lek-trawnic whizbangin' gizmo under the seat... or wherever they hide it... refuses to tell anybody which part is the right part... to replace... It didn't record a dang thing.
The consequence being; "If it ain't broke... we can't fix it!" arrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhh! ... and I'm not willing to roll out into the far flung wilds with a lame rig.
So we ride into our THIRD Walmart night...
Well Hell, at least they have craft beer for sale inside and no shortage of TP...
Life is a Beer... Goes down easy and frequently leaves you sitting on the porch looking stupid.