TOYOTA - CAN YOU HEAR ME?
(I guess they finally did!)

Last Edit June 21, 1998

       I decided to repair the van. Simple process, right?
       When I bought it back from my older son, I had him deliver it to the Toyota Dealer who was caring for my gray pickup truck. I said, "Tell me everything, EVERYTHING wrong with it."
       They supposedly did. Tell me that is. $1,840.00 worth of everythings.
       I had just had the truck serviced. They blew out the engine. They replaced coolant. They put in a new thermostat. The routine 60,000 mile service. Just a tad under $1,000.00. Not counting the tires.
       And three weeks later I had gone back - there was steam coming off the hood. Scared me. So I had driven watching the engine temp and the oil pressure. And I hadn't done any heavy Boy Scout driving - conserving my energy for the daily commute.
       In other words, I had not beat up on the truck.
       They had assured me that the truck was fine. They "couldn't get the steam to repeat itself." They sent me on my way assuring me that the new thermostats "ran hot" and the low oil pressure when you took your foot off the gas "was normal".
       They assured me that they were "taking care of me."
       So when it happened occasionally I just revved up the engine, raised up the oil pressure and kept driving. It seemed to keep it at bay.
       I brooded a bit about the size of the estimate on the van, (for a few weeks) especially after the service bill on the truck, then decided to go ahead.
       I delivered the van back to the dealer and said go and fix. (For my mother's day present, my older son escorted me down to the dealer to drop it off and drove me back home - in his brand new Tacoma.)
       Bless him.
       Well, they repaired. And repaired. And ordered parts. And they repaired some more.
       All $1,840.00 worth.
       Now, I, with BSEE and MSE degrees ( yes, I am an engineer), told them there was a short in the blower. 'Cause the air conditioner/heater turned on/off with every pothole or sharp stop I made. Up front they knew this.
       But, hey. I'm a WOMAN. What do I know?
       So, a few weeks later, I finally get the van back. They have, according to their sheet, done everything.
       (My Visa card is now quivering in the bottom of my purse. If Fabio does show up anywhere, I'll be hard pressed to get to him.)
       My older one and his other half ferry the van home for me.
       "Drives better," says. he.
       "It'd better," says I.
       Well, the brakes are still squishy and the next week I drive back and complain.
       They tell me they just need to be "blown out." They check out fine.
       "Fine," says I. I will return.
       Well, the next week, I decided to drive it back. Now, I drive my little gray truck, the one with the FABIOFN license plates, as my primary car. The van is to be driven once a week - I have it insured that way pending the younger son's completion of his EAGLE, since he will get this vehicle when he does complete the Eagle. Hey, it worked for the other boy. Back when the little gray truck was new.
        So, it takes a week between garage visits. And the truck is about due back for service again. Lube and Oil. I want the van on the road first. I need one car running. Reasonable, don't you think?
       I get there, and guess what? The van now needs another $1,400 worth of somethings! Somethings they missed when told to "check everything".
       Momma was not happy.
       Not at all. Ever seen me mad? Not a pretty sight. I am, I am told, a "formidible woman."
       So, they hemmed and hawed and gave me 20% discount and promised to detail it and then threw in rotors for cost or whatever and I got out with $1,200 and a temper tantrum. They forgot to clean it.
       I insist that they will be cleaning it. Detail inside and out. They had arranged for a body shop estimate. The backend is crumpled.
       Least they could do for me.
       You see, it WAS the blower motor.
       It WAS the brakes (master cylinder, calipers, pads, etc., etc., etc.,)
       I WAS right. Even if I am a woman.
       So, I was finally scheduled to pick it up - with a promise that they would detail it when I brought it down for the body work. - and I planned to drop off the truck for its lube and oil. Musical cars.
       Now, understand that the night before, the truck was running a bit hot. That did not seem right. Hotter than they said it would run. Hmmmmm.
       So, I added oil when I got home (Toyotas usually use up a quart between services. I added 1/2 quart. It dip-sticked just fine.) There was no steaming radiator. I am experienced with boil-overs. I used to drive wrecks when I was in college. It was not in the red - just hotter than normal. I took time to show my younger son how to check oil. Where to add oil.
       Never mind that I could not unscrew the oil cap and was thinking about where I could find the wrench when he twisted it loose with his fingertips and said, "It's OK, Mom. You're old."
       I ignored this remark and proceeded to explain about radiators. How not to open them when steaming, etc.
       Now, I do know enough not to drive a car that is in danger of throwing a rod. You could get killed that way. It's why I have AAAplus -- I can be towed great distances. Certainly from Fremont to Sunnyvale!
        The next morning the engine temperature seemed to be OK. All the way down the freeway. But, it had moved into the borderline area by the time I reached the dealer. And when I reached the dealer and told them, they thought the temperature showing hot might be the new thermostat. It might need to be replaced. Ho hum. By a streak of good fortune, my younger son, all 6'2" of him, had accompanied me to work and thus to the dealer. I had a witness.
        So, I switched cars, paying the bill on the van, picking up the body shop estimate, and came on to work. (My Visa card was now in hiding. Poor thing!)
       The body shop wants $3,900 - the insurance company said $1800 and this is cash (I refused to allow the older boy to put the accident on his insurance when he did this since my rates would have gone up.) $2,000-$2,400 I had figured, allowing for the vagaries of bodyshops. $3,900 had me reeling.
        But I decided to get another estimate and calmed down. There was, after all, no rush to repair it. Lights worked. I just couldn't open the rear door.
        I went to lunch with both my boys. A variation on take your child to work day. I visited my older son's office - sort of take your Mom to work. And your brother. We joked and laughed.
       I came back. The younger one is reading game manuals in an empty office. I am writing a new training seminar.
       My older boy was standing by to ferry the van back home. (This is a 45 minute drive - nontrivial commute.)
        Innocently, I called to check on my truck. My pride and joy. With its FABIOFN plates. I like my truck.
       My truck has a cracked engine block.
       At 66,000 miles.
       Due its "overheating".
       The needle never went into the red. No engine lights flashed. The truck sounded normal. The truck drove normal.
        "The needle went right to the top when we started it here!"
        Was that before or after they checked the coolant level?
       I am still sputtering.
       Can we say bad thermostat?
       Can we say the $1,000 service damaged my truck?
       Can we say they were sleeping when I brought it back and complained about the steam? (Coolant leaking!) They didn't listen to the woman. What do women know about trucks? A damn lot! Maybe we should NEVER listen to the men!
       Can we say replace the damn engine or give me a new truck?
       You better believe we can!
       Stay tuned.