Attention turned from the Fairlane 500 towards more pressing matters over the last week or three. It was time to lift the massive hood and again address the issues keeping it from starting. Someone asked if I was sure the rocker arm was in the proper position when I installed the fuel pump. “You should feel it provide some resistance as you placed it into the hole,” were his words or something along those lines. Seemed like I would have remembered that.
“I don’t recall there being any resistance. And it looked like it was in the exact position as the old one I took out,” I replied. Nonetheless, there was doubt. If the entire thing was just because of a misplaced arm, it was well worth taking it out, checking to be sure, reinstalling and giving it a shot.
Because of the accumulated experience on the first go around, what took 2 1/2 hours the first time took about 15 minutes the second time. I felt like the rocker arm was just where it needed to be. The buddy helping me verified this fact. Upon getting everything back together, I quickly learned that the new battery was dead. Another problem to address once the others were worked out. For the time being, I jumped it from Buttercup’s Volvo in order to see if the fuel pump on the Fairlane 500 was now in working order.
Negative.
No start. Disconnecting the fuel filter and trying to start the car revealed that there was no gas being pumped through the fuel pump up to the fuel filter, so the problem must be somewhere between the gas tank and the fuel filter. Next things on the list to check are the fuel lines and gas tank itself. I’m sure the car sat for quite a while before I got it; no telling what could be in the lines or settled at the bottom of the tank. Those are the next steps. And seeing what is going on with the battery.
But for today? Just enjoying a clear liquid diet and preparing to drink a gallon of lemon flavored colon-blow in preparation for a colonoscopy tomorrow. My lines will be cleared out before the Fairlane’s, to be sure.
The stories posted this last week involved life and death, gold bars hidden in a basement, missing judges, timely totaled cars, and English aristocracy right here in Fort Stockton. Just a typical week, really.
What’s ahead will be all Cadillacs all the time for the next seven days. The only thing that links all the stories together is that each one involves a model from when Cadillac was The Standard of the World. Or said they were, anyway.
At the end of that run, two milestones for the blog will have occurred. The 500th story will have been posted since the blog began in May of last year. And those stories will have been read over 200,000 times. Both big numbers. I thank you for playing along as this little experiment continues to evolve.
But before anything else, we have the Comment of the Week to address. I asked Lucinda what her plan was for this week. She said she only had the concept of a plan, not an actual plan, which we all know means she has no plan whatsoever. She was apparently a little put off at the whole controversy as to the ‘length of comments’ debate that was stirred up last week. “It should go without saying that comments that obviously showed a little thought, creativity, and extended stream of consciousness would get priority over a half baked observation,” she said as she filled up my CMC mug as I sat in the corner booth. “And what was up with the comments on my hand? It was a glamour shot, for god’s sake. The blurring was for dramatic affect. I swear, sometimes I just don’t know what to make of you boys.”
Now if it was up to me I’d give it to me I’d give it to 65Ranchero for his thoughtful comment on A FORTUITOUS WRECK that went like this:
“When we got married, I was driving a Fiat 128 Sport L and my wife was driving a Subaru GF two door. Two years later we had our first child and wrestling a baby car seat in and out of the back seat of those two vehicles got old quick.
Sold both cars and bought a 1979 Mercury Monarch (dressed up Granada) four door. Big-ish and square but I never enjoyed a car more.
In the ensuing years I spent time as a car salesman and later as a credit union loan officer and collection officer. In both capacities I tried to explain to young car buyers that they needed to think long term…especially if a 5 year loan was needed. You love the car today. Will you love it in 3 years when life changes? Will it work for you then? It was usually a losing endeavor. I saw the sad consequences often.“
Seems like that’s just the kind of comment that is insightful, teaches a lesson, and is auto-centric. Maybe it’s too long for some. I’m damn sure not going to suggest to Lucinda, though. She’s already cranky.
It may have been that she was just tired from moving into the new house and all. I don’t know. But I didn’t want to press the issue. I’m going to say that we’ll just hold off on presenting an award for this week and let the dust settle. See what happens. Damn sure don’t want to get on her bad side. I mean there’s a lot of folks that come into the Grounds for Divorce and never order a single thing. I don’t want to push it.
Coming up at the end of the month will be the start of a story that takes seven days to tell. That’s right. Thad Gunter makes his way back to Fort Stockton and stays for a full week. The town may never be the same again.
In a sad note, I got notification yesterday from a friend of the blog that he’d lost his wife after a long battle with a brutal disease. It was the second time in six months I’ve received such a message. Our sympathies go out to him as he mourns his loss and says goodbye. A lesson to us all that tomorrow is never promised. Tell your loved ones you love them. Enjoy every minute you can. It can be over in the blink of an eye.
While I prepare to spend some quality time atop the porcelain throne, ponder the words of Sister Thelma yesterday as we all gathered around the roundtable at the GFD. “Never again should anyone be amazed at how Jim Jones got his followers to drink the Kool-Aid.”
24 responses to “FROM THE BACK OF THE BERMUDA, 9/15/2024”
And sometimes the short comment has the most “bang” for the buck . . .
G’day, all,
Excellent advice from Carunch, and remember to be cautious, stepping back after spraying starting fluid – (we used to just pour a bit of gasoline down the carb to prime the system). An electric fuel pump is also helpful to prime, especially after the car has been sitting for a spell. Sort to be so late coming to today’s party, but had several errands, fixing Bayou Lady’s Sunday morning special breakfast, and swapping out a new replacement 4500 lb spec electric tongue jack for one of the car haulers.
Love the comment on the proctologist/urologist using two fingers for a Second Opinion. Attending regular services, the seat directly behind mine was generally taken by my former urologist and I’d occasionally remind him he wasn’t at the office. When visiting him professionally, his comment to me was:
“Promise Not To Enjoy This”.
Ass-uredly, I did Not.
Surely the coming week will be interesting for many of us.
Local recent arrivals having lived in Haiti have assured that their compatriots in other areas, as well as many municipal officials commenting, assure our pets are safe, and that the Haitians in Springfield are both legal, and invited to supplement the area’s shrinking labor base.
Captain, please keep ‘em coming. We need, nay – deserve a break from the political harangues
Alright, going to do some remote troubleshooting for you, Cap’n. Before you start examining the plumbing of the 500 (sorry for the coincidence), get a can of Starter fluid. Take off the air cleaner and shoot two quick blasts down the carb with the choke open. If you don’t have an electrical problem in addition to the fuel one, this will get your motor started and it will likely stall out the first time, but maybe not. Do this again up to three times total.
The reason I am going for this it that you likely have air in your fuel lines. Starter cranking speeds often don’t provide enough suction to pull that air out in a reasonable amount of time. Getting the engine running will crank the pump faster (shades of Zappa, but we won’t go there).
Anyway, Starter fluid is cheap and you should have a can of it in your garage regardless. I use it all the time to get my generator going (we lose power a lot where I live, sometimes for more than ten days).
I see from your photo that you have the vacuum assistance for the wipers fuel pump. These have a glass sight bowl at the bottom of the pump, and likely a filter. Putting gas in this bowl might also accelerate the priming, but I am venturing in unknown territory to recommend someone else try this.
If, after all of this, you get that baby purring, I take myself out of the CotW running. If this fails miserably, then consider me a candidate.
Something tells me that Marty will chime in, which is totally welcome.
This morning, as I reviewed today’s “Back of the Bermuda” over b’fast at my local GFD — which admittedly can’t hold a flickering taper to the original in Fort Stockton — I was tickled upon coming up with four punning “bon mots” apropos to the Captain’s impending plumbing procedure tomorrow. I related those to the Sugar Plum who was sitting across the table, and received one guffaw, two chuckles and an eye roll. Failed to write them down, however, and the scourge of short-term memory failure took its inevitable toll. So, I’ll just summarize by mentioning that one was the clearly to-be-expected “bottoms up” and the other was the familiar phrase “Here’s looking at you, kid.” The former got one of the chuckles and the latter received the eye roll. Damned if I can remember the one that elicited the guffaw.
Nonetheless, the odds are greater than zero that the Cap’n, his inhibitions subdued by the anesthesia administered prior to the deep dive, will be inspired to construct a few of his own.
There’s anesthesia administered prior to the deep dive? Well this isn’t going to be any big deal at all, then. I wish they’d have told me that up front.
My Doc told me that I can have vodka with my cleanse. Damn glad I asked.
Every year I go into see my AME. He always blandly says ‘Turn around and bend over the table.’ I’m compliant. He says ‘Do you want me to use one finger or two?’ I say ‘Why would I want you to use TWO?’ He says ‘You might want a second opinion’.
Cappy, you might wanna shove two of those tubes up there. Good to have a second opinion.
This is funny! Going to have to remember this one (er, two…).
Not going to lie, that’s a funny story.
I have had similar issues with my ’68 Mustang, fuel pump replaced probably during the Carter Administration began to leak, replaced and had intermittent no-start and occasional carb flooding for months. Another new fuel pump and car would only start if primed by sloshing raw gas down the chokes.. Bought a third new – much more expensive – pump from a name brand supplier and – viola’- problem solved.
A grey haired local mechanic (endangered species) informed me he has recently installed as many as four (4) “new” chinesium fuel pumps on a customers car before it would cross the curb under its own power,
Attempting to find a grey haired mechanic at some point in the near future is not an option that has been ruled out.
I always thought that a wise man knows when to throw in the towel and call someone who knows what they’re doing. Hope the Fairlane 500 is back on the road in short order.
That’s the beauty of the internet. You can read something and then complain you read it, when in fact, you had a chance to skip it. My advice to folks, and you can tell New Guy next time you see him in the GFD, look at the length of a comment before you read it, if it’s too long, don’t. “That’s what she never said”. Last time I heard, length matters.
I work for a company very involved in AI, both the hardware and software level. I don’t worry about AI taking jobs. I see the benefits enhancing jobs. Like images. If Lucinda gets better looking with age, great! If AI makes here grow another boob, great again. Although I won’t admit to eating a Rice Krispie treat by myself, holy cow, Sister Thelma! I see why you invited her and her egg sandwiches on your BaT trip in Dallas in ’22. I’d eat her egg sandwich any day.
Was my comment too long?
Glad I wasn’t the only one struck by how Sister Thelma looks! Her picture was enough to make me consider joining the Holy Orders. But, upon further reflection, I decided it doesn’t really work that way.
Isn’t she related to Lucinda is some way?
Sister Thelma might be related to Lucinda. And it ain’t by marriage.
Sister Thelma is divine. Read into that whatever you want to.
And appreciate the fact that the distance between egg salad sandwiches and Rice Krispie Treats is shorter than the distance between the cupboard and the refrigerator.
Blowing past the non-CotW and the impending “let’s get to know each other better”, I’d like to reflect on your mention of the Rev. Jim Jones. Just so happens that my uncle knew the guy in Indianapolis. No, uncle Riff wasn’t a follower. Or a friend. Riff worked for the paper and it covered some of Big Jim’s antics getting his show off the ground.
Many years later, I was working on a metaphorical cotton plantation. In the fields, not the Big House. I and my fellow slaves were desperate for anything to take our minds off the daily beatings. We had a calendar that noted infamous people through history. Jim made that list. We notice just a few days before his birthday and decided to hold a company birthday party for him.
We held the party, had vanilla wafers, everyone signed his card, and we drank the Kool-aid. No one died or even got sick. It was a grand time. Even management attended and enjoyed themselves. The next day management issued an edict that there could be no birthday parties for people not working on the plantation.
As I think I mentioned before El Captain, may your ‘tologist have small fingers.
Benard Marx
Good morning Captain,
Hoping everything comes out alright – not only in the preparation for tomorrow, but for the results – in the end.
Seriously though, reread Dave Barry’s piece, give yourself a good laugh, and take solace that you’re doing your best to be the man your family deserves and cherishes. Your day or so of challenge and upside down volcano is minimal in comparison to Buttercup’s rehabilitation.
We fared surprisingly well, enduring the wobbly directions of Hurricane Francine. Our neighborhood was one of those pockets on the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain where locals recorded a hair over a foot of rain and wind gusts exceeding 90 knots. Drainage canals overflowed and major intersections became lakes. Of course we lost electricity, cable, and internet, but the house is intact. The garage door was braced to protect the ’54 Caddy and just a bit of water came in underneath. The natural gas-powered generator and temporary window units kept the lights on, the fridge cool, and comfortable temps here at home.
I’m looking forward to the upcoming Cadillac series, and should have a bit of time while sitting in waiting areas as the Bayou Lady is scheduled for steroid injections in both knees, MRI, and cataract surgery, all in the first three days.
Wishing all a great week,
Marty
Sounds like another week of surviving Nature and everything else that can be thrown at you. Drainage canals overflowing is something I can relate to. Luckily it hasn’t reached the point where the garage door has to be barricaded. 😉
Best of luck in your various waiting rooms as the week progresses.
“It should go without saying that comments that obviously showed a little thought, creativity, and extended stream of consciousness would get priority over a half baked observation”
Drat…there go my dreams of basking in the glory of a Comment of the Week. Half baked observations are my specialty, and I try to stick with my strengths. Just for posterity, though…is a half baked observation one not entirely thought through, or is an observation made when half baked?
Good luck tomorrow, Captain!
Lucinda says the term ‘half baked’ refers to something still runny in the middle. I anticipate being in that exact condition later on this evening.
Good luck with the procedure, Cap’n. No fun, but the peace of mind will be well worth it. As far as the Fairlane is concerned, lack of fuel is an easy diagnosis and some work, but technically easy. My family Mustang had been living in my uncle’s garage for some fifteen years or so before I began the trek driving across town to its new home. The car started fine and ran for about five minutes before stalling, far enough to go a couple of miles. After sitting for a few minutes, it would then start right up only to die a couple of miles later. I eventually called a flatbed and ended up replacing all the fuel lines in my covered parking space outside my townhouse. Problem solved and still going strong some twenty years later. Now I’m fighting brake problems – my better half was recently chiding me that it’s always something with that car! Anyway, good luck tomorrow and looking forward to more posts!
Nobody ever gets an old classic car thinking it’s not going to come with problems and opportunities. Same can be said of getting married. (Don’t tell your better half I said that!)
Regarding the CotW, so some think it’s only about length while others believe thoughtfulness of how it’s planned and executed to get a great result is equally important?
Seems I’ve heard this debate before but I can’t quite place it, best we do leave this one up to Lucinda.
Capitán, best of luck with the procedure tomorrow from one who is on the bi-annual plan.
At least you won’t be thinking about Rice Krispie Treats later today whilst astride that porcelain pony.