Who would know?

I bought a new car recently from my local GM dealer. It was time. My Henry-J was on it's last legs and I was having a devil of a time locating parts.

It's been a while so I was amazed at the amount of paperwork to be signed in the dealership and the volume of material contained in the two customer manuals they furnished me. One was a detailed book describing the entire vehicle. The second was sort of a "how to get started" instructional guide that covered the highlights, such as how to get out of the car.

I hesitated to go any any further as we Sullivans don't like to read directions. However, I admit I was curious what this could possibly be all about. There was a powerful lot of information in those books - and a lot of big words. In addition, even after seeing the pictures in the manuals I had trouble finding the matching locations in the front of the car. They all looked alike to me.

There was this one interesting section that discussed the skinny dill pickle shaped rod they had inserted into the left side of the steering column and that kept getting in my way.

It appears this was designed more for a multi-tasking adult. I didn't get into all the details as I'm a sort of "one step at a time kinda guy". However, I was impressed that the darn thing would wash your windshield and make the wipers go faster. I thought, "Who would know? What will they come up with next!" I put the book back in the trunk as it was clearly way over my head.

Don't get me wrong. I really do love the car despite the fact I don't understand it much, but, that annoying clicking and the church bells I sometimes hear are starting to get to me. After much thought, consternation and hesitant exploration, I concluded the noise has something to do with the pickle. I decided to question my peers in this "experienced adult" community for their input.

Driving the two blocks up to the Florida "old f--t" weekly Friday breakfast meeting at the clubhouse (so people could see my new car) I inquired of the other seniors at my table about the strange noises I was hearing. While many of them affirmed they too had experienced this annoyance they appeared to be equally frustrated and unable to explain their origin. I felt bad as clearly I had caused them to have their knickers all wrapped up in knots.

Sidney Lipshitz, our college "edjicated" neighbor, who lived in one of the big places up back, offered, "sometimes if you pound on the steering wheel real hard, the noise will stop!" Angus Furbush, the new resident from Iowa nodded his head in agreement - perhaps too vigorously -as this caused his face to plummet into his oatmeal and a prune became impaled in his right ear.

Finally, desperate for some "good" answers , I reluctantly took the car back to my dealer's service foreman. His name was "I.M. Goodratchet," according to the uniform label embroidered just above his vinyl pocket protector.

"I.M", I said. (I felt I could call him by his first name as I paid a bundle for the car.) "I've got a problem." He stopped his efforts to reglue the McCain/Palin sticker back onto the Service Limousine's rear bumper, and appeared to be really puzzled as I described my discontentment with my new purchase and the noises it made. His tanned forehead was wrinkled up like.

"It's your 'tern signals', he barked.. Not being the dimwit he suspected, I smartly replied, "That makes absolutly no sense. How many birdwatchers are there down here to justify the expense?"

Now, he really was puzzled. He walked me to my car and directed me to the passenger seat as he got behind the wheel. He put the key in the ignition and began to turn the pickle up and down causing it to start that infernal clicking sound.

He then patiently advised me that the purpose of the clicker was to alert other drivers as to where and when I was intending to turn the car. I looked at him in wonderment and inquired, "For what reason? Doesn't my winding down the window and sticking my arm out accomplish the same thing? This is just one more unnecessary doo-dad to jack up the price of the car."

Funny though, you could tell he seemed to have been around as he explained to this old timer why I no longer had to use my proven and well tested technique to signal my turns & stops.

He advised me that by "playing with the pickle" one of the front or rear lights on either side of the car, as well as the side mirrors would light up and advise other motorists what I was going to do. He said the clicking sound was to let ME know what I had done. That's when I lost it!.

I clearly told him since I was the one "doing the doing" I really didn't need some irritating noise to confirm my actions to me. I also explained to him that he was wrong, "I have seen many drivers who rolled down their windows and signaled other drivers with their finger". I also added, " I have never, ever, seen blinking lights coming from the front or rear of other cars out on the road - let alone showing up on their mirrors."

He shook his head sadly and softly whispered, "I wouldn't be surprised". Then he disappeared into the Service building, leaving his unattached bumper sticker behind him.

Now, I was the one who was confused, but, as I slowly reviewed our conversation and repeated his words I finally concluded, "You know, 'I.M.' just might be on to something here. I can't wait to tell the guys at Friday's breakfast meeting."

Look, I want to assure you that I'm no evangelist preacher. I'm just relating this story to you as a concerned citizen, but, think about it, if this lack of knowledge is going on in Florida, it could be happening all over the country.

That's dangerous stuff man!