How Much?!!!!

Our old, (1992) Chevy pickup has been having problems lately. Like it's owners, they're mostly age related problems. It sits in the driveway rusting away most of the time these days, only getting used to haul trash to the dump or to move things too large or too dirty or smelly for our little Toyota wagon.

On the last dump trip, after unloading the recycled items and dumping the rest, the shift lever refused to go into Drive. I cussed and pushed on it until it finally clunked in to gear. When we got home I found that I couldn't shut the ignition switch off. I turned the key toward the Start position and was rewarded with a grinding noise as the starter tried to engage an already running engine, but at least then it let me turn it off.

The same problem came and went over several weeks while I tried to find out how to fix it. The consensus I arrived at, mostly from the Internet, was that the ignition lock cylinder needed to be replaced and that required removing the steering wheel with a special wheel puller and delving into the turn signal, windshield wiper and washer, cruise control, headlight dimmer, and turn signal wiring just to get at the thing. “A job for a Chevrolet mechanic, not me!” I reasoned.

The last straw happened at JC's house when no matter how I jiggled or wiggled the key the engine just kept running. I finally opened the hood, climbed up on the radiator shroud, removed the air cleaner and pulled the coil wire to shut it off. When I climbed down off of the engine compartment, JC asked me, “Why don't you get that damned thing fixed?”

“I guess you're right,” I said, “I'm afraid the Chevy dealer will rip me off, but I'm pretty sure from what I read on the Internet, that's where I should take it. The thing is, I think that they charge thirty or forty dollars an hour!”

“Get it fixed, I've got a lot off stuff to haul to the dump!” he said, “I'll even pay for it!”

The next morning I called the Chevy dealer in Newport, told the service manager the problem and made an appointment for the following day at 9 am.

JC followed me to Newport and we dropped the truck off. The mechanic showed me which fuse to pull, a much easier way to shut it off. We did some shopping and drove home. I'd just walked in the door when the phone rang and Carol handed it to me. It was the service manager who told me,”We found your problem. You need a new ignition cylinder and the canceling cam was completely crumbled. It will run about $400.00. Do you want us to go ahead and fix it?

I started to say OK, but then the $400 sunk in. “How much?” I sputtered. He repeated the amount. “Holy Crap!” I said.

He waited in silence while I thought about how much the truck saves us in monthly trash pickup charges and how handy it is for hauling stuff, but on the other hand is it really worth fixing...and what the hell is a crumbled canceling cam?

Reluctantly I said, “Yeah, go ahead.” I told him I'd pick it up in the morning and hung up, shaking my head.

“What's the matter? Carol asked from the kitchen.

“$400.00!” I replied.

“Holy Crap!” she said.

The next morning I asked the service manager for an explanation of the bill. He used his pen to point out the charges.

“Well, it needed a new lock cylinder, and that was $46.70. The canceling cam, which was crumbled, was $13.98 and it took the mechanic over three hours to do the repairs. He looked at me as if that explained everything. I'm not good at math, but as the wheels in my head slowly ground away, I finally spurted “But that's a hundred dollars an hour!”

I suffered through a detailed explanation about rising costs, yadda, yadda, yadda, reluctantly signed the bottom of the statement and left, poorer budweiser.