DIY

 I used to do a bit where I would talk out of the corner of my mouth with a bit of a drawl, describing in detail what I imagined could be the problem with your car. "Well, you're looking at a differential with a bit of a gap at the junction box. I'd recommend we pop off that distributor cap and run a little cold water through it and see if that doesn't do the trick." And, "Long as we've got 'er up on the rack we could go ahead and lift the carburetor up a bit and see if we can get it to vent straight to the crankshaft."

So, as you can see, I know precious little about cars. Still. I have been in quiet awe of my son's affinity and ability to deal with motor vehicles for more than a decade now. The fact that he can still identify cars from blocks away by the sound of their engines is entertaining enough, but the fact that he is able to turn this mild talent into purposeful action by doing actual repair and rehabilitation of the automobiles that enter his orbit continues to confound me. 

As we drove across town recently, he described the process he undertook bringing the Mini Cooper he bought back to useful life as I tried to make sense of what he was telling me in real time. I knew that it involved the axles, and that noise that I couldn't quite hear because he let me know that it used to be a lot worse when it was in both wheels and if he took care of the right side then he would be able to sell it for a thousand dollars more than he paid for it. 

He went on to tell me about how a friend of his wanted to sell him a bunch of parts and a shell of a car that would all eventually be pounded into a working vehicle. It was at this precise moment that I remembered sitting at our coffee table with a much younger boy, working on a Lego set that was supposed to turn into Bob Fett's ship, Slave 1. All those little bits of plastic, and all those pages of instructions. Trying to match the picture to the bits and putting them all together into something that resembled the photo on the box had my son on the verge of tears. 

Until dad stepped in. 

That was a long time ago. I wouldn't have the first idea of how to help him now. Unless you'd wanna stick a butter knife up in that tailpipe and rattle it around a little bit.