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Everything is more complicated as an adult, especially when getting a car fixed. Laugh as I tell you my story.
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Everything is more complicated as an adult, especially when getting a car fixed. Laugh as I tell you my story.
Listen to My Sensors Need To Be Sebsored by Mr. Ohh! MP3 song. My Sensors Need To Be Sebsored song from Mr. Ohh! is available on Audio.com. The duration of song is 07:53. This high-quality MP3 track has 8384.979 kbps bitrate and was uploaded on 25 May 2024. Stream and download My Sensors Need To Be Sebsored by Mr. Ohh! for free on Audio.com – your ultimate destination for MP3 music.
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The transcript is a humorous monologue about the differences between riding a bike and driving a car, and the frustrations of dealing with car maintenance and repair. The speaker reflects on the simplicity of fixing a bike compared to the complexity of modern cars, and the unreliable nature of car sensors. They also mention a personal experience of a car catching fire due to overheated wiring. The speaker concludes by suggesting that better sensors should be developed for cars. They invite listeners to subscribe to their podcast and share their content. Hi, and welcome to Mr. O's Sideways View, a blog and podcast dedicated to all those folks who aren't me. And I've noticed a surprisingly large number of people who aren't. Hmm. Anyway, I'm Mr. O, and it's time to take another sideways view at our crazy world. When I was young I had a bike. It was green with 26 inch wheels, that's 66 centimeters for those folks who don't live in the U.S. Even bigger than the wheels of racing bikes they use in the Olympics, once again proving that Mr. O is better. Better at what? I don't know, but better nonetheless. Bikes are great when you're a kid. You can go places without asking for a ride. However, I must admit, kicking off my parents asking for rides was a lot more fun. Bikes mean freedom, while you're wishing to be as free as an adult. Then you become an adult and realize you were a heck of a lot freer as a kid. But by then it's too late. So you drink beer and post online about how great it used to be. Actually, that's a lot like what I'm doing now, except smarter, because I'm Mr. O. Be that as it may, when you grow up, most of us trade in our bikes for cars. Cars have four wheels, and aren't used in the Olympics, unless they've added an event I don't know about. Even then, it would be something like tossing a Fiat 500 for distance, rather than driving. I wonder what factory extras would be included in this car. I mean, you really don't need power windows, locks, and an expensive sound system when you're just throwing the thing across the yard. Then again, good music might enhance the audience experience. But I digress. The thing about riding a bike versus driving a car is maintenance. When I rode my bike, I could fix it myself. I tightened the spokes, adjusted seats, and fixed flat tires. If the chain fell off, I knew how to put it back on. Then again, considering the number of times the chain actually fell off, I may not have been doing as good as I thought I was. However, the point is, I knew how. When I started driving a car, I learned some basic stuff about that as well. I learned on my father's 1968 Impala. Somehow, this car was built before there was pollution, and also sometime before gasoline was flammable. Who knew? Anyway, as I understand it, gas became flammable, and consequently folks stopped smoking around the pumps. Great idea if you ask me. Also, scientists discovered pollution. Apparently, flammable fuels make more of it than non-flammable. I'm not a scientist, but I guess that makes sense. Either way, when this happened, cars started getting confusing. In the before time, my dad's Impala had an engine under the hood. Now cars have hoses, wires, computers, controls, sensors of all kinds, and a raccoon where the engine used to be. Don't ask about the raccoon, but without going into too much detail, boy, was he mad. I'm not sure what they did with the engine. Maybe flammable gas doesn't need one. But I can't find any engines under the hood of my new car. Therefore my knowledge went right out the window, and I had to hire a mechanic. Hiring a mechanic is like, well, hiring anybody else. You thought I was going to have some creative metaphor, didn't ya? Sorry, there's really nothing else quite like it. It's all trial and error. For a while, I had a personal friend helping out. He only charged parts and beer. Very reasonable. But my car had to break down on his schedule, or else it could be down for days. I went to one guy I couldn't stand to talk to, but he was great with cars. One guy I hired was just the friendliest guy, but never did the job right. Heck, getting married was easier. I even tried asking for recommendations from a friend of my wife's. The thing is, every time I decided to go with one of her guys, she changed. Talk about giving somebody a feeling of insecurity. Be all this as it may, there is one constant with all auto repair shops. There is never anything wrong with the car when you take it in. What's wrong is some sensor or another went bad. And the thing with the sensors is, the car won't run without them. You heard right. The engines are fine. But the sensors which monitor those engines can't be trusted. How many times have I gone in only to hear, The nitrous carbon thingy-doodle which monitors your emissions is giving a false hit. I have to change it. For a cost of only one bazillion dollars. When I ask why, I'm usually told I'll be personally responsible for destroying civilization as we know it if I don't. I don't want Armageddon and Anarchy on my hands, so I always let them do the job. Also it's not just the complicated sensors that are the problem. Recently the car was giving a gas tank error. I noticed the cap was loose and thought that might be it. It wasn't. The error persisted. I took it in and found out if the sensor registers an error, The computer in the car continues to give an error even after the sensor hit is long gone. It wants me to start the car seven times to make sure it's not going to give it again. I'm not starting a car seven times if I think there's something wrong with the gas tank. I'm not crazy. Okay, I am. But not when it comes to having a car burst into flames. Speaking of flames, I once had a car burst into flames after I had driven it for four hours. I asked the car guy, how could this happen? I was informed the wiring overheated and there's no sensor on that. I'm no genius, but don't you think the sensors should prevent explosions instead of telling me my car isn't running at peak efficiency? I'm quite sure a less efficient engine never killed anyone. Explosions do that. Next we have to ask, where do all those sensors connect? They go straight to a computer which compiles, translates, and evaluates them. Now a complex computer with all that input should be able to output a good deal of data. Not in your car. Theirs is one output, the check engine light. When that light is on, it could indicate hundreds of problems, none of which signaling your car may explode. Okay, now I'm just being bitter, but it's true. That light could mean anything, most of which have nothing to do with the engine. When I saw it the first time, I got out of the car, opened the hood and checked the engine. It was still there, no problem as far as I could see. Look, the oil light means check the oil, same with the gas light, the battery light, and the open door light. Maybe there should be a raccoon under the hood light. But like the hot wiring, there's no light for this either. I've come to the conclusion that maybe we don't need better cars. They should start making better sensors. Oh, and start looking for raccoons. As I said, it was not pretty. Thanks for listening, and I hope you laughed a lot. Stop by anytime, open 24-7 for your smiling convenience. If you liked it, push like, or share it with a friend. If you missed an episode, you can hear Mr. O on Apple Podcasts, Google Play Music, and Spotify. Remember to subscribe so you won't miss it again. If you'd like, you can send me an email at ohsidewaysviewatgmail.com. That's O-H-H-S sidewaysviewatgmail.com. And remember what I always say, laugh now. You can be crabby anytime.
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