Monday, February 11, 2013

V/A - Shiny Grey Monotone Radio - Show 9

Label: n/a
Year: 2013

This weekend I decided that I would install new rear brake pads on my car, as I successfully installed them on the front wheels earlier last year (successful meaning my car stopped when pressure is applied to the brake pedal. Unsuccessful in that in a possibly drunken oversight, I neglected to fully tighten the lug nuts on one wheel, resulting in a near catastrophic wheel-falling-off-car-at-85mph debacle [which actually ended less dramatically in the garage getting two new lug nuts installed after they sheared off {I'm alive thankfully...right?}]), and thought I could handle the rear with no problem. So, on a bright and sunny Sunday morning, I head out and purchase new brake pads, come home, jack up the car, remove the wheel, detach the caliper, remove the old brake pads (metal on metal! yeah son!), install the new ones, and get ready to put everything back in place. I am leaving out the part of the story where I had to borrow a socket set after realizing my socket set is in my attic, not a problem ordinarily, but an issue every since the attic step ladder hinge broke over Christmas with my fat ass going up and down it all the time to get decorations and presents and shit. In a fit of laziness, instead of fixing the attic steps, I instead screwed by attic shut to put that project off for another day. Oops. Whatever though, I borrowed the socket set and was cruising through wheel number one. I took a lunch break, and decided I'd finish up after my son's basketball game that I had to coach (by the way, the Grant Park Hawks are 3-2 as of this writing, and one more win guarantees us a spot in the playoffs...holla!). Get back from the game and begin the process of compressing the brake caliper in order to reassemble the whole thing, but, the damn caliper will not compress. I'm using a 500lbs hand clamp, a C-clamp, you name it. I'm loosing my mind trying to muscle this fucking thing back into place, and my daylight is burning fast, not to mention it's beginning to rain. I go inside and consult with Youtube on how to compress this thing, I'm reading the manual, and getting increasingly frustrated. I manage to yell at my wife, I manage to yell at my son...the whole deal. I finally figure out that my rear brakes are different than my front brakes, and the rear caliper is what's referred to as a self adjusting caliper, meaning you have to have a special tool to screw the piston back into position, resetting the caliper. It's raining pretty steady at this point, and getting dark. I head out to the auto parts store and rent the tool I need, which no one there can willfully explain how to operate, even though they assure me I'll have "no problems". I have problems. I have dark, wet, frustrating problems. I'm losing my mind trying to figure this fucking thing out, and it fucking thunders! In February, in Atlanta, there's lightening overhead. Great. Perfect. I call it for the evening, I can do no more. I phone my co-workers and tell them I might have to work from home as my car is currently jacked up with no brakes, which is more embarrassing than it is problematic for work.
This morning I wake up, take the car that does have stopping power, and drop off my wife at work and my kids at school, so that I can get back to ruining my car a bit more. Oh, and there's a 70% chance of rain all day here know, just to keep me on my toes. But there I am, back out under the car, in the rain, with this complex tool in my hand, and...lo and behold...I engage the adjuster, the piston turns, the caliper is reset, and I'm back in business. Just like that! Took all of 5 minutes. I then bolt the caliper back on, put the wheel back on (careful to fully tighten all the lug nuts), and test the brakes. Success, it stops! Still have the other wheel to do, but...fuck that other wheel, I'll do it this weekend.
Point of the story? None. Who gives a shit. But, did you catch all of the subtle sexual references I made whilst telling it?

The Bands:
Dead And Gone
Torches To Rome
Some Soviet Station
Abe Vigoda
Reverb Motherfuckers
Season To Risk



Anonymous said...


Wild Thing said...

car sucks. bring the noise!

ian said...

Thank you! Good stuff as usual. Now I definitely won't try and replace my brakes myself.

Gray said...

You should definitely fix your brakes yourself. I'm positive your life isn't the comedy of errors mine seems to be, and you'll be just fine. Saves about $200 each axle, which is money you can use to bulk up your Hummel collection.

I also recommend listening to The Accused when you do (preferably Martha Splatterhead's Maddest Stories Ever Told), as the time will fly by, and before you know it, you'll be careening to an early death due to your DIY mechanics.

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