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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is steaming with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want ALL to thrive in

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Who to believe? to be continued

I call my veg oil fella who tells me to go to the dealer, buy a couple of fuel injectors, and find out how much they'd charge to install.

So I go to the parts department, price the injectors, and before I actually purchase, I head over to service to find out how much they'd charge.

This shop is predominantly white males, of course, but there are a couple of African-American men and even a fella who is Hispanic.

No womyn of course.

As I'm asking the young white male behind the counter to find out for me how much this shop charges for fuel injectors, the head honcho walks by, snorting, "how do you know it's the fuel injectors?"

I hear the slight emphasis on "you". Immediately I snort back, "I know it's the fuel injectors - I just don't know how much you'll charge to replace them".

By now, all the other truck drivers in the shop waiting for service - all white males - are paying close attention, smiling condescendingly, and politely informing me of several boy things: 1) you can't know it's the fuel injectors unless the old ones have been taken out (peering at me to see how their wise words are impacting my choice); and 2) no one can replace only one or two injectors, they ALL have to be replaced.

My service guy has summonsed the head mechanic, another white male, to come and talk sense into me. He informs me that he's been working on Isuzu trucks like mine for 20 years and very, very, very rarely do ya have to replace the fuel injectors.

I ask him if he's worked on trucks like mine that run on alternative fuels. He, of course, is clueless but offers to listen to my truck.

The minute he hears the truck, he insists that this is not a fuel injector noise but a rod noise: he leans a little toward me - not that he needs the additional height, he's already a good foot taller - and authoritatively tells me if I dare to drive another mile, I risk the rod smashing thru the engine and increasing my bill 10 fold.


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