Maybe we should just stay put for awhile.

So, we just got back to Whittier from a long and tired trip from the Bay Area.  We went up north to attend my Pau Pau (Muelin Wong, RIP)’s Burial and Memorial Service.  Everything was beautiful and we’re very thankful that we could attend.

Now for the dramatic part.  After the burial, Dad C. and I were on our way back to Pau Pau (Lew)’s house.  I had to stop and get some gas, and all of a sudden, we hear a POP! followed by a CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK.  I quickly pull over to the side of El Camino Real in front of Don Pico’s Mexican Family Bistro.

(This place looks pretty popular.  Maybe we should try it out sometime.)

Anyway, I attributed my car’s new found sound effects to a lack of gasoline.  So, Dad C. offered to hoof it down to the closest gas station to borrow a gas can to fill Sue up enough to get it to the station.  Gas station 1: no gas can.  Gas station 2: no gas can, but we have an old cleaner bottle with a spout on it!  We decided against that option and called Mom C. and asked her to go get the gas can from Palmdale and come to rescue us. After about 45 minutes of watching people go in and out of Don PIco’s, Mom C. finally shows up, and we put some gas in the ol’ belly of the beast.  She turns over, but again: CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK. Time to call in the big guns.  I call Dad W. to ask him what to do next.  After trying to tell me what to look for under my hood to no avail, he says that he’ll be up to help me out.  So, Mom and Dad C and I go back to Pau Pau’s house to eat dinner and wait for the Wong Brigade.

After passing Pau Pau’s house a couple times, Mom and Dad W show up and I hop in the back of the Lexus and we go back to my sad abandoned car on El Camino.  Don Pico’s is now closed.  Dad takes a look under the hood and determines that a spark plug has shaken itself loose from the socket and that the wire connector has torn itself up.  Not good, but not fatal.  He tries his darndest to get everything back where it should be, but he simply doesn’t have the tools, and Kragen is closed.  We decide that the wisest (but not the fastest) thing to do would be to go down to Cupertino, get the tools from Poppyside, and then get back to Sue and get the darned spark plug back in the hole.  Away we go!

So, we finally get back to Don Pico’s, and we wriggle the spark plug back into the hole.  Well, 75% of the way into the hole.  Enough to get the car from Don Pico’s to our old home, Tipperary.

We leave the car there until the next day when we can get the proper tools.

After the memorial service, Dad W. and I go back to Tipperary to tighten things down.  After attempt #1, I took it for a spin around the block:

Everything seemed to be working fine.  So we get ready to go back to Poppyside for the evening.  I get down to the corner, and the “check engine” light starts to flash.  Not good.  Back to Tipperary.  A closer inspection reveals that the tip of the spark plug had loosened from the plug, causing the piston not to fire.  I know, I don’t quite understand either.  Anyway, the car was running on 3 out of 4 cylinders, and that doesn’t cut it. Dad W. runs to Kragen to get new plugs, and we’re again on our way to Cupertino.

We made it.

We spent the night at Poppyside, went to Orchard Valley for church in the morning and hit the road for Whittier.  Everythings running as it should until…

Check Engine light starts flashing, car starts shuddering, Christina calls Dad W.

We pull over just south of Gilroy, near a Best Buy.

All is not well under the hood.  The aforementioned wire was not doing its job.  Mom and Dad W. come to the rescue again, and we trade cars.  We take the Lexus, they take Sue back to Poppyside.

That is where we stand now.  Subaru: in Cupertino, gettin’ some tuning up.  Lexus: parked on Washington Ave.

The saga continues…

By the way…

It’s hot.