No Stupid Questions; Only Stupid Answers

We have heard it all our lives. There s no such thing as a stupid question. However, one must learn to deal with stupid answers. We have come to expect, even tolerate, a certain  level of  incompetence when dealing with  those blue, red and orange jacketed so - called experts at the big - box stores.  They were not hired for their expertise, but merely  as a body to plug a  hole in the staffing  dike. That is not to say that you  will not occasionally run into that aberration where the clerk is able to concisely articulate a meaningful  solution to the problem at hand. Furthermore, you expect quality service when you make the trip to a store that specializes in the service  you need.

One night last week, I looked out the window and discovered that the rear lights on my car were shining bright.  I grabbed my car keys  and went down to investigate and found that  while all the other lights were off the rear lights were lighting up the night.  I took the car for a spin around the block. Back-up lights checked out , as did the turn signals and headlights.  All interior lights were functioning properly.  I was stymied. While I admit to having limited mechanical knowledge of  what makes an automobile run,  I can change out various defective parts after reflecting on the problem and gaining a little advice. Since it was late at night, I simply removed the  bulbs from the sockets and  figured I would seek said advice from an auto parts store in the morning.

The next morning before I left on my quest for answers, I searched the  Internet for information and possible causes and solutions. It appeared that the brake switch was the most likely culprit. I sifted through questions and various answers offered by  members of the cyberspace community. Then I went down to look under the dash for the brake switch so it would appear that I knew somewhat of  what I was talking about when I quizzed the clerk.  I also discovered  four  small pieces of  hard plastic laying on the floor board directly under where the switch is located. Must be some significance as they were not there the day before. When the  jigsaw puzzle was pieced together, a tiny mushroom like button appeared. I remembered something  about this in one of the answers on the internet. An inexpensive grommet.

I should probably explain the workings of a brake switch at this point. The brake pedal sits on an arm  that extends upwards  underneath the dashboard. There a plate rests against the  spring loaded shaft of the brake switch. Applying pressure to the brake pedal causes the  arm and plate to move forward releasing the  shaft and closing the electrical circuit. The brake lights come on. When you  release pressure on the brake pedal, the arm and plate move back pushing against the switch shaft and opens the circuit which should result in the brake lights turning off. If there is no pressure on the shaft, brake lights remain on even if the ignition is off.

My first stop was at one of the chain auto parts stores. I repeated the symptoms and asked for a diagnosis. That is when I got the stupid answer, “Did you check the fuses?’  If the fuses were blown, would the lights work? No. “Did you check the bulbs?” The bulbs were shining bright.  My next question concerned the grommet. “Never heard of that,” came the reply. Cost of the replacement part? $35.00. I left.

The routine was similar at another chain with the cost for a new switch at $38.00. I decided to try my luck at an independent auto parts store - one that sends parts out to  auto repair shops.  I was now convinced that the grommet was the answer to the problem. The guy behind the desk had no clue and  the part, like all the other places, bore no resemblance to the switch under my dash. His price was only $32.00 - a bargain.

So, I went home and worked on the car. I replaced the bulbs and positioned them where I could watch what they would do when I activated and deactivated the switch. I crawled under the dash, moved the brake pedal forward and found the switch shaft. I pressed it with my finger and the brake lights went off. I let go and they came back on. The brake switch was not defective; it merely needed to be realigned since it had lost the spacing when the grommet deteriorated.

I removed the wiring harness, loosened the lock nut, turned the switch until it was aligned properly and the lights went on  and off with brake pedal pressure. Tightened it all back up and it worked in less than ten minutes.

I hate stupid answers.

10 signs you are forever single and a hopeless bachelor

You don’t fret the small stuff. Blue, green, red, or even pink items mixed in with your white colored laundry is inconsequential to daily affairs.

Your concept of urban sprawl means the bed is yours and yours alone.

You meditate by focusing on the refrigerator, rather than your navel, at 3:00 A.M., while finishing what remains of a twelve pack you started at 1:00 A.M.

You feel that toothpaste smudges on the edges of the medicine cabinet mirror are signs of true artistic creativity.

Your email spam filter permits a deluge of unsolicited dating sites and male enhancement products advertisements to reach your inbox.

You scour the Internet for recipes that will improve upon the traditional preparation of Ramen noodles.

Your cat climbs upon your lap and purrs softly in you ear, “Don’t worry about the litter box, wash the FUCKING dishes.”

The bar of soap in the shower reaches the size of a postage stamp before it is replaced.

Alimony, child support payments and beer and pizza allotments run neck and neck with the National Debt.

You prefer a brand of toilet paper sold at the dollar discount store, that could be used to refinish furniture.