Editorial time again

wdfifteen · wdfifteen's Garage

My next editorial - not yet copy edited. (WD is the Dodge truck I'm restoring)

I’ve been in the shop hooking up wires on WD since you read the last issue. I didn’t write an episode for the WD restoration series for this issue because I try to include something educational in those pieces and there isn’t much I can tell you about electricity. I know for sure that I=V/R because that is on the first page of every electricity textbook. But none of the wires on my truck are marked I. Or V or R for that matter. I don’t know why Chrysler Corporation chose to keep this apparently vital information a secret. Another thing I know about electricity is that it is made from electrons, and electrons are extremely touchy. They run around inside the wires and you can’t see them unless you make them angry, then they jump out and try to set you on fire. It seems a little harsh to me and I sometimes wish my truck ran on something a little less irritable.
While testing my installation of the new wiring I put a temporary fuse between the battery and the harness’s main wire to try to tame ill tempered outbursts from the electrons. I did this because another thing electrons are known for is doing a slow burn. Instead of setting fire to you immediately, they’ll let their resentment build slowly and before you know it they’ve filled the wires with smoke and when it finally comes out, then they set fire to you.
A new neighbor moved into the house across the alley behind my building about three months ago. He came over the other day, rather worried, because he heard a noise coming from my shop that he hadn’t heard since he’d moved in. It was me; working on WD. I explained to him that I was restoring an antique truck and every few of months it was necessary for me to go into the shop and make some progress. “That sound,” I informed him, “is the sound of progress!”
“I sounded like a bunch of shouting and cursing to me!”
“Yes!” I said enthusiastically. It thought he was getting it, but he was giving me a puzzled look. I explained to him again that I was restoring an antique truck and was again met with a blank stare.
I just wasn’t getting through to this guy, so by way of explanation I invited him to help. “Stick your head down there between the fender and the engine and hook this red wire up to the lug on the starter there.”
He threaded his upper body deep into the engine compartment and took the wire. As he touched it to the lug it unleashed a substantial shower of sparks, causing my new friend to jerk his head back, scraping his scalp on the corner of the oil filter bracket and cracking the back of his skull on the radiator support rod. He hopped around the shop dripping blood and showering the shop and the immediate neighborhood with a selection of mild expletives.
“See? That’s restoring an old truck. You're getting the hang of it,” I told him. “But you need to work on your vocabulary.”

widebody911 · widebody911's Garage

Instead of setting fire to you immediately, they’ll let their resentment build slowly and before you know it they’ve filled the wires with smoke and when it finally comes out, then they set fire to you.

Kinda like a woman.