The Grease Monkey King......

The "check engine" light came on in my car, today.

So, like any good, God fearing, red blooded American I got out of my car, popped the hood, and "checked" my engine.

It did no good.

No sign popped up, telling me what was broken.

There were no alarms going off signifying the actual BROKEN part of my engine.
Nothing.

I got back in the car, and turned it back on.....The light was still on.

"But, I CHECKED it," I said to the voices in my head.

I don't need a light in my car. I need a light in my engine. What good does a light IN my car do? It tells me nothing. I need a light on the offending peice of machinary IN the engine. How else will I know what's broke?

Truth be told, this could be my fault. I know nothing about cars. I can put gas in it. That is the full extent of my automotive knowledge.

Years ago, though, I learned the name of one thing. The Cellinoid. Sadly, I think I might even be spelling and saying it wrong. I've also heard it called a Selonoid. If only there were some sort of computer process that I could use, and type in the words, then have a bunch of information on that term be presented to me.......Maybe someday. Either way, when I say the word Cellinoid, I try and say it fast so that the person hearing it won't be able to tell that I don't know what I'm talking about.

This hasn't been nearly as helpful as you might think it would be. If I'm not mistaken, the Cellinoid (Selonoid?) has something to do with starting the car. I don't know where it is. If I was asked to point at it, I couldn't. I would just randomly gesture toward the engine.

But, since I'm a man, and men are supposed to be able to kill things, and fix cars, I cling to it as much as I can.

Mechanic: I think I know what the problem is.

Me: Is it the Cellinoid?

Mechanic: Well, no.

Me: Who do you think you're messing with, pal?

Mechanic: Well, sir.......

Me: I know a thing or two about cars, you know!!!

Mechanic: I understand sir, but.....

Me: I've been standing here the whole time, and you haven't even LOOKED at the cellinoid.

Mechanic: You're right, sir. I haven't.

Me: Then, how can you say that it's not the cellinoid?

Mechanic: Well, sir, this is your left, rear tire. See that little silver thing? That's a nail. After careful consideration, I have determined that THAT is the reason why all the air came out of your tire.

Me: I see.......Not the cellinoid?

Mechanic: No.

Me: But, I was right. You did not, in fact, check the cellinoid.

Mechanic: Isn't it selonoid?

Me: Shut up.

The problem is that, every time there is a problem with my car, the mechanic feels the need to show me the offending part. So, I feel the need to stare at it, examine it, and nod my head.

Sometimes, I think they bring me things that aren't even in cars, just to see me nod my head. I'm pretty sure someone showed me a shoe, once.

There is one thing I can do, though. A couple of years ago, my father-in-law bought me an air compressor. I never understood WHY he bought me one. But, he did. Usually, I turn it on and let the air fill up. Then, I will pull the cap off, and blow the air through my hair. It makes my daughter laugh, and a good time is had by all.

This past weekend, my wife asked me to check the air in the tires. I think she did it just so that I could feel manly, and say things like, "I had to work ont he car, this weekend!!"

So, I made a big deal of getting out the air compressor, firing it up, and filling it with air..........Then, she got mad at me when I kept blowing the air through my, and my daughters, hair.

Eventually, after several dirty looks from my wife, I got the tires filled up. Truthfully, I probably over filled them. I don't have one of those little thingys that tells me when to stop. At some point, a tire is going to blow up in my face, and I'm going to have to have someone come over and fix it.

Maybe I'll ask them to check the cellinoid...........Or is it solonoid. I can never remember. I'll just say it fast.

Casey