Fixing the car with superglue and a dremel.

Golf, Opened
You can go see the whole photo set that I put up on Flickr.
So, the AC and fan stopped working on my VW Golf a couple of weeks ago. In July I had the AC compressor replaced. This was not cheap. So I was pretty ticked off. I tried to get the shop to fix the new problem, as the repairs were still under warranty. They figured out that the problem was in the dash. Since it turns out that during the original repairs, they had not touched the AC/fan control mechansim in the dash, I was SOL on the free-repair front. They said that it would be "at least $150" to even look at it, due to the location of the unit, and the hassle involved in actually getting there. Bah, I said. I can do this myself.

It turns out I was right. An afternoon, a dremel, and some superglue was all I needed.

Of course, they were right too. It was an incredible hassle to get to the part. I had to remove the driver's trim end cap, the left driver's kneeplate trim, the right driver's kneeplate trim, the passenger's trim end cap, the glovebox, the center console, the antenna cable, the three cables that control the air destination (defrost, main vents, feet), the frame that holds the cupholder, stereo, and AC/fan controls, the AC/fan control knobs, the AC button, the recirc button, and the AC/fan control circuit board. Just to get to the plastic box that holds the fan speed knob and the contacts that complete a separate circuit for each fan speed.

I don't know exactly what happened in there (stray Chai Latte foam? crappy VW electricals?) but something shorted and got hot enough to melt a) the fan speed knob, and b) speed controls frame.

The result of a) was a hardened blob that hung off the knob that prevented it from turning away from the top speed. Not that the fan was blowing, because the little piece of metal that completes the various fan speed circuits had come of the knob in the melting.

The result of b) was a control frame warped right where the circuit board was supposed to snap in. Thus the circuit board was askew in one corner, just enough for the AC button to fail to make contact.

So I took my dremel* to the blob, and smoothed out the knob so that it would turn freely. Then I applied superglue to the little metal contact and stuck it back on the knob. I need the superglue there because one of the little plastic tabs that had held the contact had been melted into oblivion. I expect that it's remnants are currently coating my lungs.

Then I snapped the circuit board back into the unit. I forced the board and the warped corner of the frame into compliance, and dabbed it with superglue (I *love* that stuff!) until it held.

Did I mention the goo? There was brownish goo on the fan speed contacts. This was not that conductive grease lubricant crap they put on the switches. This was some sort of goo that should not have been there. I don't know if the goo caused the problem (the latte-foam theory -- the cupholders loom precariously above the stereo and AC/fan controls) or if the goo was a symptom (faulty wiring of some sort). Either way, I got rid of it with an old toothbrush, some baking soda, and some vinegar. I couldn't remember what I was supposed to add to the baking soda to use it to clean electrical contacts, so I added vinegar, because it bubbled nicely. It seemed to work, and I was able to eradicate all the goo I could see.

Then I put everything back together, and even found holes for all the screws I removed!

Somehow, I either damaged, or mis-installed the little bulb that sits in the hub of the fan speed knob, and whose light is directed via a framework of clear plastic to all the little lighted labels on the AC/fan control unit. So, when it's dark out, I just have to go by feel when I want to adjust the temperature. But I can adjust the temperature.

Also, I found the clip-on sunglasses that I lost two years ago at Lake Granby. They had slipped between the top of the ashtray and the console trim, and nested under the center of the dash in a pile of gas station receipts, expired coupons, and a forgotten Albertsons customer loyalty card.


* Please note that I use the word "dremel" here in the manner that one would use the word "kleenex" or "tivo". I don't know what to call the little tool that spins to grind and cut. The one that I have was made by the fine people of Black & Decker, not Dremel, and I have no complaints with it. "Rotary tool" sounds too cumbersome, but I am open to suggestions.

What would you be doing in the shower that requires grunting?

So, after my workout this morning, I was in the shower at the gym. I know that there are plenty of unspoken rules about the locker room shower at the gym; mostly about politely ignoring the presence of other naked males, and such. But this bears mentioning:

There was this dude in the corner of the shower, totally going R.O.C.O. with the soap. Under normal circumstances, I would have no idea that this was going on. But this guy was making all these grunting noises while he, uh, lathered up. I'm not saying he was, er, you know. Just that the cleansing process seemed to be very vigorous. And audible.

Now, I am the type of gentleman who takes seriously the hygiene of my Zone. Cleanliness is it's own reward; also, I do it for The Ladies. But there is no part of my regular cleansing that results in grunting, in or out of the shower.

Not for this guy, it would seem. The exertion wasn't confined to his Area either. A bit later, he was making similar noises and flexing and stretching, as if he were in a body building contest. Then he started to gargle.

Not just filling his mouth with a little water, swishing it around a bit, gargling a bit, and then spitting it out. This was more like he was daring the showerhead to try and drown him. Like he's Hercules or something, spitting the water back faster than it falls, with the sheer force of his diaphragm.

"C'Mon Kohler, what you got, huh? You don't have the stones to choke me! [glug, glug] What's that? You're low-flow? I guess I'll need to [glug, glug] turn on a couple more heads to challenge me. How does that make you feel? [glug, grunt] Pansy."

Rectum? Damn near killed 'em! (posted from my phone)

woof

Dogs used as shark bait.

I am no pet-lover, but this is wrong, wrong, wrong. Don't click on that unless you want to cringe.


Thx: Warren Ellis

You wouldn't believe the mezcal we get out of it!

Check out* out the CD Cactus Cyanide (and I) made, after getting the idea from her brother, and the CDs** from Craigslist.


*Or you can just click the "ringloss' photos" link to the right.

**A big ole box of Dell Optiplex system recovery discs.

Mendelbaum! Mendelbaum! Mendelbaum!

When I weighed myself yesterday, and discovered that I had toed the notional, yet very satisfying thirty-pounds-lost line, I wanted to share my sense of accomplishment with the senior citizens in the locker room with me. But they seemed too intent on their white sneakers, nylon windbreakers, and discussions of impending mortality staved off by chair-based aerobics and brisk walks. So I let my self-satisfied smirk be the only indication that I had lumbered up to my arbitrary milestone.

So, I weigh 312 pounds now. That's 249* Chipotle Burritos. 249 sweet, sweet Chipotle Burritos.

Not that I've had one since I began this new regimen. It's for the best, really. We just needed to take some time off from each other. And then, when we have worked things out, we'll get back together. Just every once in a while, at first. To see how it goes. To see if we can make it work again. Together. This separation will just serve to make those reunions even sweeter.

* Where did I get this number? Well, the CSPI (Center for Science in the Public Interest, or as I read it "Center for Nanny-State Health-Fascists") says that "Chipotle's Vegetarian Burrito (with black beans, rice, cheese, guacamole, and salsa) weighs over a pound...", so I estimate that my bete noir (chicken, rice, black beans, cheese) is similar. I will call it 1.25 pounds. So that makes me 249.6 burritos (I lopped off the point-six for aesthetic purposes, call it the cup of iced tea used to wash down the burritos). Note: I have ommitted the calorie information from that quote, to protect the faint of heart.

For more on what puritanical, quackscience loons CSPI are see this article from the July 2003 issue of the excellent Reason magazine: "The Anti-Pleasure Principle -- The "food police" and the pseudoscience of self-denial" by Jacob Sullum.

"There is no party of tolerance in Washington -- just a party that wages its crusades in the name of Christ and a party that wages its crusades in the name of Four Out Of Five Experts Agree." -- Jesse Walker

Wow. This post got cranky fast. I must be rocking the low blood sugar...

Call ended 00:00:25

Complete transcript of a phone call today (slightly paraphrased):

Me: Hello!
Cyanide: Quick question, because it's been pissing me off all day.
Me: okay
Cyanide: What's "jamon serrano" in English?
Me: uhh
Cyanide: The thinly sliced stuff...
Me: Yeah, prosciutto...
Cyanide: That's it!
Me: ...though technically that's Italian.
Cyanide: I know, but that answers my question though, thanks!
Me: You're welcome.
Cyanide: Goodbye.
Me: Goodbye.

Update: It turns out that Cyanide actually called from the middle of the high school Spanish class she was teaching.