March 10, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 10, 2019, I stole his thunder.
Five years ago today: March 10, 2015, oh boy, Russian cookies.
Nine years ago today: March 10, 2011, that clown again.
Random years ago today: March 10, 2009, Arnel & Da Bassguy.

           It wasn’t the transmission. It cost me $257 to discover it was a botched radiator job. Remember that back in Decemer I plowe $850 into the replacement radiator. I had noticed a leak the following day, but it was dark at the time. I checked the radiator several time and found no problem. Because it wasn’t the radiator. And the warranty period has expired.

           But I will still take it back to see if they’ll make good. Here is what I discovered for my money. The car did run on fluid, but apparently Fords have a “well” that keeps the gearbox from running bone dry. I have topped the transmission up several times but found no leaks. I did notice that “baked” aroma a few times but wrote it off to spills on the motor block due to the inconvenient location of the dipstick.

           It was up and down the hoist and around the block for three hours until we found the problem. I did not know there is a small transmission fluid cooler attached to the radiator by a pair of quick-connect hoses. And you cannot easily get at these puppies, it may involve having to remove the whole shebang again. The only way to get at the area is via the radiator housing.
           Why didn’t I spot it? Because the drip only occurs when the lines are pressurized, and I do not ever leave a vehicle running when I’m not around. Up on the hoist, we followed a slow drip all the way to the back of the car where the aroma was fluid getting on the muffler. It only made sense after this was all pointed out to me. I was preparing for another big repair bill on the transmission, but maybe the radiator place will honor their work, it is a small town and all.

Picture of the day.
Downtown Bangkok.
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           I rather liked the area and since I was there six hours I toured a few of the thrift stores, none of which had a 16mm wrench. I grabbed a coffee but the place I had my eye on didn’t open for another few hours. It was one of those hippie-like places that calls itself coffee shop but they don’t really have good coffee. And they pour it into a cold ceramic cup so it is tepid by the time you get it. You know the drill, things like chai and carob on a mimeographed menu and overpriced trinkets for sale.

           The area is a little too far from downtown to amount to much, but looking down every other street, or more like alleyways, there was another pub with some claim to fame. None would pass inspection if built today. If I ever go bar-hopping everything there is walking distance and they have what looks to be a nice library. On the way, I finally found the road to the train museum. You know me, I love touring old trains an such. Amtrak really blew that opportunity. Or should I say, don’t hit me, they really missed the boat.
           Here’s you picture of the place that was not open. Headquarters Coffee & Tea. I dunno, it’s the kind of place I’d tae the Reb on a date. She’s a tea drinker, decaf and all that. I didn’t take the dog’s along as planned, so I got home and we made an extended walk around an entire shopping center up on Lebanon Pike. The doggies love that mall landscaping. Remind me to pick up a gallon of transmission fluid. I learned it is not a big deal to occasionally overfill them as they have some kind of overflow mechanism.

           Later, I tried again to get some info on that train museum but they have a terrible website. Hawking train rides, the hobby shop, a photo gallery, and links to train movies, it barely mentions what is on display. Finally, if you click “Equipment” on a small strip menu, you get a list of various locomotives, passenger, and sleeper cars. The accompanying literature is very careful not to mention whether any of this is actually on display.
           This photo shows the “Slumbercoach”, with 32 bedrooms. And 32 bathrooms by theway. It is staggering to iimagine how Amtrak lost money, particularly after the airlines turned airports into what they are today. They’re a bloody nuisance, that’s what they are, with never enough parking, high-priced, uncomfortable furniture, and forget trying to catch a nap with their incessant overhead speaker announcements. Seriously, would anyone really leave their baggage, with their cash, camera, and clothes? Here, Abdullah, hold these valuables for me and if I’m not back in four hours, take my place on the airplane. If anybody asks, my tickets and ID are in the smaller bag and you just tell them I said it was okay.

Last Laugh