He told how it had a Buick V-6, a front-of-the-wave motor for its day and how Jeep had purchased the patent from GM in order to use it in their vehicle. As part of moving to Wellton, he'd begun acquiring "toys" to tinker with; the Jeep was one. Another, a riding lawnmower (in a desert?!) had a 24-horse, V-Twin Briggs & Stratton. He told how the fuelpump was operated by engine vacuum and how, though it took a while, he eventually discovered the hole in the line to the pump, hiding on the backside, that had made the price so low. He smeared some black silicone over it, and, after it dried, it fired right up.
While admiring the V-6, he told of the dissolution of his 35-year marriage. It seems she'd been sneaking around for years but was such a good actress he hadn't had a clue. As icing, two months before she asked for the divorce, she'd suggested he repaint the interior of their house. It wasn't until later he realized it was so it would sell better. Her boyfriend left his wife to marry her; we can only hope they live happily ever after.
It was like listening to the other side of the coin of my own life. Double El has known of my other relationships all along, and several have been deep and abiding loves, but it wasn't until last year, after 26, that we legally bound ourselves... so she could "inherit" my Social Security (nearly 3x what she'd have gotten) after I die.
Outside again, checking out the "knuckle" hubs on the front axle of the Jeep, I noticed an awning shop across the highway.
He knew the place and thought they might be able to extend the belt on my antique Camptrails backpack, the one I bought from the Animal Humane store in Hailey, Idaho (just down the street from Sun Valley).
In the awning shop, the woman invited me to bring the job in so she could see. After a brief perusal she called a guy and asked him to come over.
He (I never got his name), a man about my age, looked it over and said he thought he could handle it. I explained I was passing through. He got right to it.
We chatted while he sewed. He'd been a mechanic like his father before him and recounted a saying from his Dad, "No matter, it's just a pile of nuts and bolts." This had guided and given him the confidence to tackle anything. Having been a mechanic myself, I know it's about a lot more than "nuts and bolts" as you'll see from the next paragraph.
He'd met the shop-owner twenty years ago when she'd re-covered some seats for his RV. Over the years they'd become friends. It wasn't too long after she bought this, her second shop, that the $4,000 sewing machine, a bit high-strung, two-needled model, the one he was using, started acting out. With no way to have it repaired, she put it in the attic. At some point it came to his attention. It took a while, but eventually he discovered the last person who worked on it had replaced an adjusting screw for the footplate with a regular screw. The part couldn't be ordered so he made two; not one, but two. The way he described it, it was a virtually seamless (pun!) segue from the repair to learning to sew. And there he was fixing the hipbelt on my backpack.
It took about twenty minutes. Ten of that was spent untangling the ornery bobbin.
When he asked for $10.00 I said No Way!! We settled for $20.00.
35 years for one; 26 years (now 27!) for us, and 20 years for him. The diff was the 35-year said he wished he could have those years back...he'd been cheated.
But I continue to be amazed at what happens as I "piddle" along.
