It looks like rainbow spaghetti in there!
So I mentioned earlier that I 'helped' rewire the Pontiac. (Yes I decided to keep it and am in the process of selling off the Buick and hopefully Dad will take the Fastback, so I can justify this decision.) Well, Don't let me mislead you. Many of you know that I DO NOT DO REWIRING OR PAINT. Why? I can't even paint my own nails, and because I am not an electrician. If it involves more than 4 wires in an obvious connection, I will not go near it. Now, I can repair/rewire many old phones, I can install a new phone jack, and I can repair various aquarium pumps, BUT car rewiring I do not do. If the tangled conglomeration of a wiring harness under the dash was not enough, the fact that everything from the fuse box to the engine was melded together (looking like taffy) convinced me that I would not touch it.
Here's the dash after some tearing apart. Note the piles of wire on the seat and the mess dangling from under the dash:
So, I did the horrible, and basically placed my pinky to the corner of my lip and pouted. 'I don't know the first thing about wiring! What do I do?' (Inwardly, I wanted to shove that pinky to the back of my throat and heave.)
Let me show you how far that got me.
Yes, by my blatant act of 'girlie-ness', I managed to get 4 men to go to work on my car. That is my 'Pop' (not my Dad, we call him Pop), my 'Brother' (Pop's son), Hubby huddled under thre dash, and my friend (peeking under hood). Now, the other guy there and I took it upon ourselves to go to In n' Out Burger to feed the troops. So I did redeem myself by making myself useful, which is a whole other escapade itself. 7 burgers, 7 fries and 6 drinks later, we manage to get every order correct and back to the scene of the fray safely. Suffice it to say that there are 3 red plastic trays residing at my friends house now. FEAR ME! Because , obviously I am not ashamed as to stoop low enough to feign ignorance! (*mumbles to self* Must use powers only for GOOD! Must use powers only for good...)
I leave you with a picture of the car itself, and one of the engine (minus wiring and oil bather air cleaner.) Before you ask, YES the breather caps are painted like eyeballs, yes, the engine looks like a muppet show reject, YES, someone has already passed the opinion that I should paint them to resemble nipples instead, and NO I WILL NOT DO IT.
So, I did the horrible, and basically placed my pinky to the corner of my lip and pouted. 'I don't know the first thing about wiring! What do I do?' (Inwardly, I wanted to shove that pinky to the back of my throat and heave.)
Let me show you how far that got me.
Yes, by my blatant act of 'girlie-ness', I managed to get 4 men to go to work on my car. That is my 'Pop' (not my Dad, we call him Pop), my 'Brother' (Pop's son), Hubby huddled under thre dash, and my friend (peeking under hood). Now, the other guy there and I took it upon ourselves to go to In n' Out Burger to feed the troops. So I did redeem myself by making myself useful, which is a whole other escapade itself. 7 burgers, 7 fries and 6 drinks later, we manage to get every order correct and back to the scene of the fray safely. Suffice it to say that there are 3 red plastic trays residing at my friends house now. FEAR ME! Because , obviously I am not ashamed as to stoop low enough to feign ignorance! (*mumbles to self* Must use powers only for GOOD! Must use powers only for good...)
I leave you with a picture of the car itself, and one of the engine (minus wiring and oil bather air cleaner.) Before you ask, YES the breather caps are painted like eyeballs, yes, the engine looks like a muppet show reject, YES, someone has already passed the opinion that I should paint them to resemble nipples instead, and NO I WILL NOT DO IT.
posted by RagDoll at 1/21/2005 07:03:00 PM
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