Auto Harmony


I don't drive my car every day. I drive it about every three or four days. And I am proud of this fact.

Car culture scares me.

After graduating from college, I bought a " flamenco black" 2000 Honda Civic EX. I loved the thing. I loved it so much I went nuts trying to keep it scratch free and pretty all the time. I treated like I treat my teeth. I washed it. I polished it. And it gleamed flamenco black shininess. Any stain, any blemish would put me into a neurotic spiral.

One morning, I bumped Fernando's mountain bike that was hanging from some hooks. The bike fell on my car and slid across the hood. I stood there stunned. The scratches were so deep, so not superficial, that when I went to inspect them, there were these little mini piles of black paint dust around the grooves. I remember bending down to look at the damage and breathing the same way you breathe just after you stub your toe on the edge of the bed. You try to dissociate from the intense red, pulsating, throbbing pain that is your toe. Then, once your done denying what has occurred, you finally inspect it a little more closely.



Hmmm, bleeding.


Hmmm, little piles of paint dust.



I gently puffed some air onto the scratches and hundreds of little flamenco black flecks danced in a shimmery cloud.



Last month, my current car, an $800 '93 Ford Tempo, started making a very loud vibrating/clattering noise. The noise was loudest while stopped at a red light. It kind of sounded like an aluminum can being dragged very slowly behind a Huffy. Every week it would get worse and worse. Lately, people walking by have been turning their heads to see where all the noise is coming from. Children being pushed in strollers by their mothers roll on by pointing at my car as if they just saw a man in a bear costume. Drivers often put their heads out of their windows to make sure it's not their car making the racket.

I've been meaning to fix it, but I've been cash strapped lately. I'm still recovering economically from my extended vacation. So, I've cleverly devised ways to get around the noise. At first, I put the car in neutral at every light. After a while, the noise in neutral was almost as bad as when it was in drive. This was a concern -- you know, a concern that it was getting worse and I didn't have any money. So, I came up with another way to calm the clatter. I put it into park and gently revved the engine. This worked. It remained quiet at all stops.

Today, I decided it had gone too far. I had images of revving the engine and the car accidentally being put into gear. I could see myself running over one of those pointing babies in a stroller. It was time to get it checked out.




They just called me. It's the harmonic balancer.


"That sounds about right," I said.


"It'll cost about $325," he said.


So, I feel a little bit less balanced, a bit more disharmonic right now. They're fixing it and I expect some really fabulous things when it gets back. I want some serious ju-ju going on with that car. A new harmonic balancer, a musky incense smell, a Hindu sadhu in the back seat with a painted face chanting and gripping a walking stick made from human bones -- I expect no less from a new harmonic balancer.