Another fine memory on this special day...

This being "International Walk to School Day", (I'm serious Alexa just told me), I'm reminded of my early formative years while walking to school with one of my best friends, Bobby R. I would leave my house at one end of our block and meet Bobby at his house at the other end of the block and we would head out towards Our Lady of Mercy, a fine parochial school in Dayton, Ohio where the nuns there would try their best to break my spirit.

We worked our way one block over to Siebenthaler where we would begin the long trudge up the steep hill as we peered closely into the gutters along the busy street with one goal in mind, finding cigarette butts to smoke along the way. We hadn't yet either gotten up the courage to sneak "cigs" out of our parent's packs or maybe we just didn't know how to be that crafty yet. Heck, we were only in the third and fourth grades, respectively. But that was okay, there were always plenty of good butts along the way that would given us several good puffs before they burned our fingers.

Back then there weren't many filtered cigs and if there were, they were the sissy-menthol kind. We always went for the real thing. Luckies, Camels and Pall Malls. You could usually find a good Pall Mall in the gutter because they were a little longer and people wouldn't smoke them down too far.

As we spotted our prey, we would shout out loud and race to beat each other to the prize. Bobby always carried matches with him so he got dibs on getting the first puff. It was so great. Each of us would take a good deep inhale and then cough the crap out of our young lungs and smiling as we felt that rush of excitement and a short high.

I continued that habit, no, not getting butts out of the gutter, but smoking for most of my life. Quitting once after my first child was born and then later starting up again. Fortunately, I came to my senses about 50 some years later and finally gave up the horrible, disgusting routine.

Yep, great memories.

So as you remember back this morning when you had to make that trudge uphill both ways, in 5 feet of snow, share your story with your kids and your grandkids as they make their trudge to the family car as they celebrate International Walk to School Day.

For my gearhead enthusiasts.....the importance of putting it in the hole properly

Just so you know, a "gearhead" is a term of endearment for people interested in cars/racing etc. And "putting it in the hole properly" refers to a story I'm going to tell about spark plugs. So, any of you perverts who thought you were getting a weirdo confession by me, then no such luck. I do think you'll find the story entertaining, as well as informative.

And speaking of informative, once again, the Internet comes thru as the single source of information. Misinformation that it is. I swear there is more written about any topic that is incorrect than it is correct....anyway, let's move on.

Last week, my ever faithful steed, my workhorse that has carried me over hill and dale, my companion for over 13 years, well, she threw a shoe. She must have stumbled over something but we hobbled back to the house, with first stopping at Autozone to diagnose the ailment.

I could have gone home to get my own evaluation kit, an OBD Code Reader but I'm too cheap to buy one.

(Hmm, methinks I might be losing some of you with this story. Nonetheless, I'll continue)

Anyway, a OBD Code Reader is one of those little devices you can plug into your car too see what is wrong with it, or at least what the error codes are telling you.......ugh, now I know I am losing more readers...

Anyway, it said my #3 cylinder wasn't firing. Which meant 3 options. Either a new spark plug, a new wire or perhaps a coil pack. (For you real old timers this is what we kinda used to call a distributor). Period.

Well, two things. I haven't kept a car long enough in my last 55 years that I needed to replace the spark plugs but I have always loved working on cars.

So, I get new plugs and new wires. I do a little Youtube viewing to refresh my thoughts and I proceed.

Dang it. For some reason my 5/8 socket is missing. This is what is needed to remove the plug. I head over to a neighbors house who has all the tools in the world and borrow a socket.

Dang it. For some reason my extension is missing. Hell, it's probably attached to my 5/8 socket. So, back to my neighbors house.

The plugs come out. Yep, they are really worn. The wires come off. Yep. They are really worn. I put in   new plugs one at a time. Except when I get to #4, which is right up next to the firewall (WHY AM I WRITING THIS? I DOUBT ANYONE I KNOW HAS ANY IDEA WHAT A FIREWALL IS!!!) So as I put it in the #4 plug I get the dang thing cross-threaded. I take it out. I put it back in. I take it out. Back in. Out. In. Out. In. The final time I very, very carefully put it back in. Crap. Still cross threaded.

I guess it's time to limp down to one of the best mechanic shops in Richardson and pay the price. Well, they said it would be 3:00 pm before they could look at it. I'm thinking, "Heck, that gives me a couple of hours to keep trying to fix it". So I go back home. Take it out. Put it in. Out. In.Out In.

What's that definition about "If you keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect different results, that's insanity". Well, have me committed then.

I'll go ahead and end now just for the sake of the one last final true gearhead who is still reading this.

The #4 plug is still cross threaded. BUT, it's in there nice and tight. No compression loss. And should be safe. The mechanic did put in a new coil pack, which was the reason why it was still misfiring after the new plugs and wires and not the cross threaded #4. I had priced one and it was $60.00 They did it for a total of $105.00 for parts AND labor.

My steed runs like she did as a young colt. Everything is fine, except my pride.

Just like I have decided to no longer get on a ladder and climb to the top of our steep roof, I think the time has come for me to put away my sockets. I deserve to rest.

Oh, I did find my 5/8 socket and yes, it was attached to my extension. And yes, I also found my gap gauge (you gearheads know what I mean) that I haven't used in 55 years. I had used a plastic credit card which is pretty close to the gap I needed, by the way. Although, here again, the Internet said nowadays plugs come pre-gapped. Well, some do, some don't.

All in all. I guess it was a success and it gave me yet another story to tell.

VROOM!!