My car had an issue. It sounded a lot like a bicycle with a card in the spokes. The problem, as diagnosed by our neighbor/friend Jimmy, was a chunk out of a gasket between the manifold and the exhaust pipe. On Saturday, Kevin decided to take it to Dad's and work on it. I usually go along to be the gopher when he works on my car.
When we put it up, as high as the jack would allow, and then put a jack stand under it for stability, both left tires were off the ground. It was funny looking.
Kevin crawled under and got to work. The catalytic converter was still hot, so he may have uttered a bad word, but it was a mild one. I mostly saw this:
My job is to go for tools. He has to be pretty specific, but I'm good at it. If he says, "I need a 3/8" ratchet, longer than the one I have," or "I need a 1/2 wrench, open on one end, box on the other," I know what to get. That's what's nice about using Dad's shop. All I have to do is go over here:
After updating my facebook status to state that he wasn't cursing, he let out a short tirade, but I didn't tell. He did so good that I didn't want it to sound like he was a bad guy. A Neon is a tiny thing to work on, and he kept plugging away.
At one point, he barely touched Hawkeye's butt with the toe of his shoe, and said, "Hey, move over, Buddy." Hawkeye yelped like he'd been beaten, and hid out the rest of the day. Wussy dog. I know he's mostly deaf, and didn't know Kevin was there, but sheesh!
Finally, Kevin got the offending gasket off the stubborn car. The stock ones are a ceramic type of thing, but the new ones are shiny. Quite a difference.
In this one, you can see the missing chunk that caused all the noise.
When Kevin finishes working on a car, he is filthy. He is often covered in grease.