Now that may sound strange but we are coming up on Halloween and after you hear what happened it may not be so far fetched.
The brakes on the Tahoe had gotten real bad. No chirping or squeaking, just flat out grinding. So Wednesday about Noon, the Tahoe was taken to our mechanic for an inspection.
We trust our mechanic. He has treated us fairly and like family and he is ASE certified. He knows his stuff. He had done so much to extend the life of other car parts that we knew he was a straight shooter.
The results of his inspection:
- Front Brake pads? Gone
- Front rotors? Too thin to turn. Replace
- Back brake pads? Gone
- Back drum rotors? Too thin to turn. Replace
- springs, seals, fluids everything but the master cylinder? Replace all of it.
Upon his report, I told him to fix it up. Usually, he is really fast in getting things done. I thought we may get a call Wednesday evening but no such luck. It seemed real weird that I didn't hear from him on Thursday. Today when I didn't get a call at all from him, I decided that I better give him a call.
The call went something like this.
Me: Hey hows it going.
Mechanic: Great. I'm just taking your Tahoe out for a test drive.
Me: Glad to hear it. When can I pick it up.
Mechanic: Anytime this afternoon. (pause) I think there is something you should know.
Me: O.K?
Mechanic: Everything is fine with your car. But . . . We had a fire at the business in the far end of the building Wednesday night about 8:30 and the fire department came into the shop and cut holes in the back roll-up doors and and the roof to make sure we didn't have any fire in our section.
Me: Isn't the far end business a pet crematory.
Mechanic: No, It's a human crematory.
When we picked up the Tahoe this afternoon, there was a definite "camp fire smell". We just couldn't tell if it was Douglas Fir or Alder that we could smell.
The next time you ride with us don't be surprised if we introduce you to Doug or Alder. Don't worry though. They are just wafting through.
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