And you all know that my job used to be know as "shop teacher" back in the day, right?
So I'm sure some of you might be under the impression that I can fix my own car, right?
Auto mechanics was my worst class in college. The small engine my group put together...I wouldn't trust it to mow my lawn. Somehow, I pulled off a B, probably from memorizing system schematics the night before a test. And forgetting all about them by dinner.
Last weekend, my driver's side headlight went out. And we had to change it ourselves, because it's probably kind of silly to go to a mechanic. (When that happened at our apartment, we had a George. George was the superintendent of our building, a former mechanic, and one of the sweets older gentlemen you'd ever have the pleasure of meeting. I miss having a George.) So I went to AutoZone. Asked for the low-beam headlight for a 2005 Corolla. Patted myself on the back for using correct terminology. Paid for the bulb. And waited a day or so.
Because it was going to fix itself.
And when we realized that it wasn't, we pulled the car around to the front of the house. I found the section on replacing headlights. Mike was ready to take the headlight cover off. He went for tools. Here's where I get stubborn, realizing that I may never be able to call myself a technology teacher again if I don't do this myself: Having read the section on replacing headlights (sorry honey, it really was informative), I realized all I needed was a flat head screwdriver to pop off a fastener for some sort of filter thingy (at least I used the proper terminology once during this process). So I proceed to remove said fastener, and immediately drop it...somewhere. Mike brought a flashlight over, and we found it. It was then that I realized that I only needed to move the filter thingy to replace the high-beam. I really did read the directions. Mike still thought the headlight cover needed to come off. (In hindsight, I think he just really wanted to take the headlight cover off.) I twisted the bulb. It didn't come out. Twisted again. Nothing. Mike finally got it working. But I put the new one in and twisted it back into place. And then Mike said, "Wait. I'll go get the camera." (Gotta love him!)
Mike didn't let me revel in my victory for long, reminding me we needed to replace the light above the licence plate. I flipped through the manual, only to be told that I needed to take the car to a Toyota dealer to have it fixed?!?! Really?! That itty-bitty insignificant light is a job a mechanic?! We left it alone.
Later that night, while we were unloading groceries, Mike called for me to come out to the car. "Do you notice anything?"
The licence plate light was working.
Makes my "buy-the-bulb-and-wait" theory seems logical, doesn't it?