This afternoon, after procrastinating for the last few years, I decided to replace the battery in the old Jaguar. I've owned it since about 1984. The short history:
Scott M. bought it new, drove it for about ten years, parked it, and never started it again.
Ten years later, I bought it from Scott, towed it to my old house, where it sat in the yard for another ten years. It wasn't smart. I just liked it. My kids played in it. They're now 27 and 29.
In about 1992, when I came into a little money, I towed it to Coventry Cat House in Long Lake, MN. The owner said something like "piece of cake".
$2,000 later, it ran. $20,000 later, when I ran out of money, he let me have it back. We're up to about 1994 now.
I drove it occasionally over the next 5 years.
In 2004, when I moved, I managed to start it and get it here. It has been in my garage for the last four years with a dead battery.
So, today I double checked the battery again, took it out, drove it to Sears, and bought a new battery for $104.
I drove the new battery home, put it in the car, found the key, and tried to start it. It turned over. "This is good", I thought. "We're getting somewhere." But it didn't fire. No gas, I thought.
I remembered that there used to be a click click clicking sound from the back of the car whenever I turned the ignition on. I opened the trunk and there was the trusty fuel pump. Lucas. Lucifer. I turned the ignition on. No click. No hum.
I found a pair of pliers and tapped on the pump a little (this used to work when I was younger). No joy. So I beat on it a little. Still nothing. I went back to the driver's seat, turned the ignition off, and sat there in total humiliation. Luckily, there were no women watching. I don't do well in this state, with women watching.
A few minutes later, when I had to admit defeat, I thought "Oh, why not?". I turned the ignition on, walked back to the trunk, and banged out "The Star Spangled Banner" on the poor fuel pump. At about the 5th bar, the pump started clicking. I knew it was victory. I was sure.
And it was. Here's living proof from this afternoon, after I washed the old jewel, drove her to the gas station with a minor cloud of blue smoke trailing us, and drove home again.
1962 Jaguar --
http://pix01.com/TU@pRYL