We’re not really post-pandemic — yet — but there have been some “pandemic” changes that sure make us wish we were. Assuming, that is, in a post-pandemic world we’ll be free of some of the burdens of today.
Help me up on my soap box. In mid-April I bought a secondhand Ford Ranger pickup truck. It isn’t an old truck, 2019 model, and only had 34,000-plus miles on it. It still only has that many miles on it. I will explain.
The day after I bought the truck, I drove over to Newton to take my dad for a ride. We went to Walmart and picked up some dog food, some peach jam, and a few other things he needed. It was a warm day and when I left his house, heading back to Forest, I turned up the A/C which had been off since Dad, at 88, is typically cold. Plus, the truck had been sitting in the sun for a little while with the windows up.
It wasn’t cooling off very fast in the cab so I cranked it up to super cool and noticed the passenger’s side was “super cool” but the driver’s side, my side, was not cool at all. So, with a little bit of time left on the original manufacturer’s 36,000 mile warranty I thought it best I have it checked out pronto.
On April 19th I took it to the shop and they kept it and gave me the keys to a loaner. It was a Ranger too, and when I signed the paperwork, the nice girl at the counter said “you’ll need to bring it back before 5,000 miles, but I don’t think you’ll have it that long.” I think it had 3,800 miles or something like that on the odometer. I didn’t think I would have it that long either.
A week later the guy that checked me in called to say they had identified the problem, a part recall of some sort, and it would be an easy fix.
The problem, however, was bigger than any of us imagined. The part needed to get the super cool blowing on my side of the truck was back ordered due to the pandemic. “We are kind of in a wait and see mode,” the guy said.
Boy were we ever!
About two weeks ago — a month after first taking it in — the nice girl from the loaner counter called and said I needed to bring the truck back. I had already figured that out because the odometer was then reading 4,500 plus on the 5,000 limit.
“Do you have to have a truck?” she asked and when I said “no” she said she had an EcoSport. I didn’t know what that was. Now I do. I call it a half-a-car!
The good news was, however, that although I would be driving half-a-car for a few days, the “wait and see mode” on the part for my truck was over. The part had finally arrived.
But the technician who identified the problem had not.
Apparently, due to the pandemic, lots of folk are having work done on their old vehicles rather than buying new vehicles and the shop was very backed up.
“Thanks for being patient as we awaited the part,” the check in guy said.
“Yeah,” I thought, “but it’s beginning to wear thin.”
Then last week my phone rang, I saw that it was the shop, and my heart swelled as the thought of getting back into a full-size vehicle rather than half-a-car started to sink in.
It soon deflated.
“We do have the part,” he said, but the technician working on your truck has had to take the rest of the week off.” I’m guessing he’s been at the beach or something like that, for the long Memorial Day holiday, but I have no way to know that is in fact the case.
Anyway, the plan was to get to work on my A/C on Tuesday when everyone got back to work, but this writing was on Monday, so whether that is the case or not, I do not know either.
I do know that although nothing like this will probably ever happen again, I will be glad when we are post-pandemic and the supply chain returns to some semblance or normalcy.
I also know that an EcoSport is not for me. Absolutely not for me.
