Gonzo Weaver (32)
Scott "Gonzo" Weaver owns a Tulsa Auto Electric Shop and has a knack for telling true stories of his adventures in auto repair. The following short stories are excerpted from his book, "Hey Look! I Found The Loose Nut", which provides a Good Laugh for Mechanics of Any Age. For more information, Contact Scott Weaver at
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and see his website at www.gonzostoolbox.com.
You can purchase his book from Amazon at: Hey Look, I Found the Loose Nut
A Day to Reflect—On the Other Side of the Bookstore Counter
Written by Gonzo WeaverSometime ago I had my first book signing at a local book store. Steve’s Sundry—Books and Magazines. It’s a landmark bookstore in town. Everyone knows Steve’s place. It’s been in town for more than 60 years. It’s a great place for a large malt at the soda fountain, or to browse around the store to find a good book. I’m not a well known author; I’m a mechanic/technician who wrote a book. I really didn’t think there would be a crowd of potential buyers and admirers at the book signing; I’m not that naive to think I would be bringing in a flood of new customers to the book store.
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So, instead, I used the time to study the people that came in and out of the store. What a wonderful place, a book store. In the back of the store is an old counter with a bar and several bar stools. The counter, the soda fountains, and the bar stools are all original 50’s decor. With malt shakes and great sandwiches. You could take the whole day to browse for books while sipping on a shake or coffee. It’s a very pleasant place, nostalgic and modern at the same time.
One regular customer sitting at the end of the bar was sipping away on his coffee while texting messages on his Blackberry. On the other end there was an old couple who appeared to be in their 70’s reading the paper and browsing a book or two. I could see this Norman Rockwell painting of them pictured there for probably the last 40 years doing the same thing.
A Quick Diagnostic Can Seem too Good to be True
Written by Gonzo WeaverBefore my father passed away we spent several years under the hood of cars working together at my shop. He was an old school repair guy. Always looking out for the customer, and wanting to do that little bit extra for them. You know, adjust that crooked license plate, grease the door hinges before they pulled away from the shop, that kind of thing.
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I usually did the diagnostic work, and he would stick with the mechanical repairs. But most of the time his favorite thing to do was to entertain the customer while I figured out the problem.
The one thing that would give him fits was the way a customer would react after I diagnosed the problem, especially if I diagnosed it quickly.
A quick diagnostic might be fine for some people, but others it was more of a matter of pride that their “regular” mechanic hadn’t found it so quickly, or that the customer themselves didn’t find it so easily. It didn’t set well with them.
I got the impression that a quick diagnosis led to some sort of mistrust with my abilities, or that I didn’t thoroughly examine the problem to their satisfaction. A lot of times it had more to do with the previous technician taking so much time and not coming up with an answer, so they think it can’t be that simple.
When it Comes to Diagnostics, First, The Basics Featured
Written by Gonzo WeaverLet’s talk diagnostics. Do you follow any kind of diagnostic procedure, or do you just throw darts on a wall, or play “pick-a-part” and hope you fix it before you or the customer runs out of cash? I hope you don’t do that. That might work some of the time, but it’s not a good way to get to the source of problems quickly or accurately.
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One of the tire shops that I do business with dropped off a 2003 F450 with a 7.3 diesel for me to look at. It’s one of their service trucks that died on the highway.
These guys are super, I’ve known them for years, and they’ve got a great reputation and excellent work force. In fact, I buy all my tires there, and they do all my alignments. They try to fix their own trucks “in-house” and sometimes, well…the repair/diagnostics are a little out of their comfort zone. This was one of those times.
A decrepit 94 Impala SS with a 5.7 liter engine was towed in to my shop. When this thing was new, it was a real power house. But, this poor thing had a pretty rough life. Terry (my buddy the tow truck driver) was standing in the lobby with this grin on his face. I could tell he was about to give me one of his patented tall tales about this car.
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“Gonz, you’re going to like this one, nice car, a crème puff, oh, and the paint, awesome, just awesome... You’ll have to put your gloves on before you start on this cherry ride.”
“Really, how come I don’t believe you,” I said.
Who’s on First When What Can’t Get to Second? Featured
Written by Gonzo WeaverMy shop’s office manager is my eldest daughter Katie, a bright, pretty gal with a quick wit and long beautiful red hair. Katie gets all the phone calls and handles the front office issues. She does a great job, and makes everything feel like a day at the ball park.
She cracks me up with some of her responses to those baffling phone calls we all tend to receive at the repair shop. Sometimes I wonder if she shouldn’t be a comedian, or even have her own vaudeville act.
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On one occasion I happened to be working in the office, and overheard a conversation she was having with a prospective customer. The way she handled it was “pure Katie.”
When it comes to dealing with customers, there are always a few things that are sure to be an issue, i.e., Cost?, how long will it take? and When is it going to be done?
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Then there are those times when the unexpected happens. When that front door opens and a new customer comes in and your expectations are high. Will this customer become a regular? Then there is the type that make you say to yourself: What’s it going to be this time?
The other day I was in the office when in walked a young man with that “clean-cut, kid-next-door” look. He looked to me like a nice kid who had his head on his shoulders.
Corvette’s Etched Glass Mystery, Was it the ‘Hand of Turin’? Featured
Written by Gonzo WeaverA mid 90’s Corvette with a couple of problems to take care of came into my shop some time ago. The first problem was an intermittent start and the other problem was that the suspension warning light stayed on all the time. The first problem had been looked at many times by a dealer in Florida where the owner had a second home and where he stored the car for those times he would be there. The car sat around a lot and the owner was getting very upset that it wouldn’t start when he would show up at his vacation place to drive his car around.
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Even In a Big City It Can Still Be a Small World
Written by Gonzo WeaverI’ve been in private business long enough to gain quite a following from all over the city and surrounding areas. Most of it good, I hope… and then there are some of my customers that once they get to know me they’ll bring just about anything into the shop for me to repair.
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One of my regular customers brought his adult son into the shop the other day. It was right at opening time and the good old dad made it a point to tell his son, “Gonzo, probably hasn’t had his coffee yet so go easy on the old guy.”
He was right about the coffee, but that still didn’t prepare me for the story I was about to hear.
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The story started sometime earlier, about two years ago… apparently I changed the fuel pump on the son’s car back then. The owner decided his gas mileage had dropped considerably. To the point that he was concerned and very upset that there was obviously something that I had done wrong to cause it. I guess it had been grating on him for two years.
He insisted that the new fuel pump was to blame because he always tracked his mileage by way of his trip odometer. Before the new fuel pump he would get close to 400 miles per tank. His accuracy was noted on his little log book and showed how much gas he would refill his tank with. It was always around 23 gallons and never a drop more than 23 gallons. But now his tank was holding 26 gallons.
His question to me was, “So, where is the other three gallons going?” I had to laugh. I’ve changed a lot of fuel pumps but I never have had anyone come in and tell me that the tank suddenly holds more fuel than before.
Answering the Bell (‘I don’t got a gun’) and Remembering Old Sarge
Written by Gonzo WeaverOn a warm spring afternoon about 15 years ago, my shop was busy with jobs. It was just another day, working ‘till it was quitting time. Even the phone seemed to have a pleasant ring that day. My wife, Le Ann, was in the office working on the daily office paper work. I was in the shop turning wrenches and humming to the always constant radio in the background.
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The shop was busy and things were going along without a hint of trouble. It was a story book day of blissful repairs. I even stopped for a moment to reflect on the wonderful day that it was… “Ah, it’s a fine day, a fine day indeed. Nothing could bother me today.”
I looked outside at the street in front of the shop. Hmm, police cars… two of them, driving slowly. Then, in the far distance, I could hear more cars coming this way, sirens blazing away. I looked back just in the nick of time to see the two squad cars that were in front of the shop tear down the street at high speed. Then two more came from the opposite direction, slowing down just in front of the shop. I walked towards the garage door when suddenly a figure flew by me. This guy was on a flat out run for the furthest point away from those cop cars. You should have seen it; those cops were on this guy like a swarm of bees. The guy ducked around the corner with the cop cars in full pursuit. He didn’t stand a chance.
Where’s the wife? I need to go tell her about all of this… why, this is exciting… I can’t wait to tell her. As I reached for the door knob to the front lobby, my wife threw open the door. She was so frantic she could hardly speak.
A Volkswagen Beetle was left in my parking lot one cold morning. It was one of my regular customer’s ‘01 diesel Beetle. All I knew of the problem was that it wouldn’t start.
“Let’s check a few things first,” I said. I pulled out one of the glow plugs to check it for wear and tear and see if it was getting the necessary voltage to warm it up. All was well. In fact they looked fairly new. I checked to see if the resistance was correct… right on the money. I cracked open a fuel line to one of the injectors … no fuel…. No fuel?? Hey, wait a minute… isn’t that kinda necessary?? The tank was full, but no fuel pressure at the lines. One of the things to worry about with a diesel is air in the fuel lines…. Anytime these engines get any air in the fuel lines… oops… they will be hard to start or not start at all. Ask anyone with a diesel that has ran out of fuel how long it took to get it started again.
Well, before I start tearing into other possibilities, this would be a good time to shoot a little starting fluid down its throat and see if I can get a burp or two out of the little engine. I want to be sure there are no “mechanical” issues with the engine.
A couple of quick shots of ether and crank of the key and Shazaam!! Started right up…. Hold on hold on…. fuel is spurting everywhere.. Shut it off... Shut it OFF now!!
Looking under the fuel distributor you could see that the fuel was actually coming out of the two halves of the distributor. Apparently the gasket or housing to the distributor has developed a major leak. My guess would be probably from the cold. Air was getting into the fuel lines, but once the engine spun fast enough to overcome the air rushing in from the bad distributor it then was able to start.
I called the customer and gave him the bad news. The biggest problem was cost. A fuel distributor isn’t a cheap part by any means. Luckily for the owner he was still covered under the factory 100K mile warranty, but barely. It was about 500 miles shy of going over the mileage. The obvious next step would be to have the car towed to the dealership. All the work could be completed under the warranty and save the customer from a huge repair bill. Nothing like a warranty when it actually pays off on an expensive part… I’m actually more relieved myself. It’s not the easiest job by any means. Oh, I’ll do it, but given a choice between changing a fuel distributor or taking a swift kick, I’ll take the swift kick.
At this point I’m through. I did my part, diagnosed the problem and sent it on to the proper repair facility to have it done. What more should I do? Then the phone rang, it’s the owner of the car.
He was quite calm on the phone.. I couldn’t believe what he was telling me.
In a very calm and collective voice the owner said, “The tech at the dealer says it needs new glow plugs, new glow plug relay, and a new glow plug harness.”
Once the initial shock wore off, I began to laugh. “You’re kidding me,” I answered, laughing the whole time.
“No, that’s what the man said,” he said, with a little smirk in his voice. He asked me, “Do you want to call them?”
“No, let’s see if they want to call me,” I replied. “I already know what’s wrong with the car. Let’s try this; ask them if they will guarantee the repair and make it right if that doesn’t fix the problem,” I told him.
“OK,” said my now-laughing owner. “This ought to be a fun adventure. I’ll play along with ya.”
The phone rings again. It’s the tech from the dealer. I felt like it was one of those old western movies, where the bad guy strolls into the bar and says to the other cowboy, “This here town ain’t big enough for the both us.”
I could hear that “western” movie music in the background. I was waiting for the “call out” any minute now. It’s the old “I’m the dealer tech and nobody knows more than me.”
You know, I’m getting older, I may not be as fast as I use to be… but it’s still going to take more wrench than this spark plug has to get the best of this old gear head. If this guy would just listen to what he was saying, he could have figured out who the real cracked engine blockhead was. I’m getting a visual of him donning his dealership uniform and transforming himself into tat ta tat da…. SUPER MECHANIC!! I’m honored to be in the presence of such a marvel of the auto world.
Could I have finally met my match, am I to be put down at high noon like the Wild West gun slingers of old? High Noon, wrenches ready… let’s do this cowboy.
He proceeded to tell me that he had a code for an intermittent glow plug signal and that they had records showing that the glow plugs were changed at the dealership 2 years ago. Naturally, that was what was wrong with it. He didn’t need another shop to tell him that, because he was perfectly capable of handling the repair and that the only reason he was making this call is because it was company policy to verify complaints if the customer didn’t agree with their diagnosis. Holy Wrenches, Hombres, at least we have that going for us…
You know, there are times I’d just like to give these snot nose, green horn, socket jockeys a quick thwack on the noggin. But, this kid was lucky, I wasn’t in the mood to belch out my usual “you’re too young kid, you’re going to need a little more grease in the right places before ya go messin’ with this old wrench” speech. Instead, I was going to give him another chance to rethink his diagnosis.
“How did you arrive at that conclusion,” I asked.
“I had a code for it, and these cars have a history of problems with the glow plugs,” he very proudly stated.
“Did you check the glow plug themselves?” I very calmly asked.
“Well, they were changed 2 years ago,” he answered. First mistake.
“Let me get this straight, you found a code, you didn’t check it, and now you want to change the part… is that it?” I said in a stern manner.
“I don’t need to check it, I already know,” he quickly countered.
“I hate tell you this, but that code is there because of me. I pulled the glow plug out and hand checked it. I even checked the resistance value on the glow plug and the incoming voltage. I didn’t see a thing wrong with the glow plug circuit. Did you by chance notice the raw fuel under the fuel distributor?” I asked in a even more stern voice.
“Yeah, I saw the fuel. I washed it off.” he answered confidently. “It started to stink up the shop. The car was directly under the shop heater and the other techs were complaining of the fumes. Not like it had anything to do with the repair anyway. You guys’ are just a little sloppy, you should clean up things better next time.”
“That fuel you saw is from the fuel distributor housing,” I told him.
“Oh, you know, all these customers are all alike; they’re just trying to get stuff done for nothing while it’s still under the warranty. So, it’s no big deal,” he answered.
Oh please, don’t tell me this kid had the nerve to say that. It reminds me of all those comments that small children say to strangers in a crowded room. Usually out of context and never under the right circumstances and, most often, with their parents standing right there totally embarrassed by the whole thing.
Another mistake, keep going kid… it’s just keeps getting better.
“I think you should put this car back outside and check it in the morning after it gets good and cold. It’s going to leak again, that I’m sure of.” I told the new wrench.
“I’m going to have to ask my service writer about that, because I’m very sure of the repair work that I have already diagnosed. So, like I said... This is just a courtesy call... not a call to tell me how to fix it.” He said in a very insistent tone.
“OK fella, have it your way. I’m just trying to help you out. I didn’t spill a drop of fuel. That fuel you saw came from the distributor not from anything else.” I said, trying to get my point across.
“I understand, but you know, here at the dealership we have the most sophisticated equipment and can diagnose these problems better and quicker than you can,” he answered.
The mistakes kept adding up. About now I’m shining my wrenches for a showdown… somebody is going to get it, and it ain’t me.
I think, if I were him, I would be concerned that the glow plugs that were installed 2 years ago have failed again, seems pretty odd to me that the glow plugs wore out that quickly. But this young wrench head is strictly going by the code and not diagnosing the problem.
I told him, “Wouldn’t it be proper procedure to clear the code and then recheck. Chances are it was a false code due to the fact that I had disconnected it earlier.”
He didn’t seem to be interested in my comments. As I expected, the dealership called the owner and told him that they were going to do “further” testing.
The next day the owner called me back again with even more astonishing news. “The dealer tech said that the raw fuel was from the glow plug that you took out,” the owner said laughingly. I figured the tech was trying to cover his tracks.
A week later the little ‘01 Volkswagen had a new fuel distributor and a happy owner. All under warranty, and it didn’t need those new glow plugs replaced… imagine that.
This tech was just a young wrench with a chip on his shoulder. Trying to out wrench an old hand like myself was not a smart move. To top it off, the owner isn’t dumb about the whole thing either. A few more years under this young techs’ toolbox and he might just make it.
I guess you could say that there was a showdown at high noon. Holster those wrenches boy, you’ve got some more miles to put under the hood before you’ll be ready for another showdown.
I think it was a good lesson for the young ratchet head. Just because you’re dealing with an independent shop doesn’t mean they don’t know how to use those wrenches. So saddle up there youngster, I’m proud of ya, this was a good lesson for future endeavors. For me, the trigger finger is a little slower than it used to be… But I can still tell the stories… one wrench at a time.
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