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| Picture designed by the magazine |
When my son was about thirteen years old, he subscribed to a popular magazine. They often had competitions and one of the competitions was to write a story about a funny mechanical incident. I told the following story to him and he won a very expensive branded wrist watch, which he later sold.
Oom (uncle)
Gert was my father’s workshop foreman and my senior by twenty years. He and I were
fine tuning an old 1970 VW Beetle’s carburetor. As most would know, these
Beetles did not come out with an alternator but a six-volt generator. The
generator belt pulley was a real nuisance, and always in the way. It was winter
and his wife had hand knitted a bright blue jersey which he was wearing at the
time. The sleeves were exceptionally baggy and not suitable for this kind of
occupation. Gert was busy at the back (where the engine on a Beetle is located,
for those who don’t know), and I was sitting in the driver seat keeping the accelerator
steady as requested. I decided to spice things up a bit and put my foot down
flat on the pedal, giving one enormous rev up. There was a whirring sound and
then the engine cut out. As I exited the car, I noticed an unusual cloud of fluffy
blue material raining down from above. A very shocked and speechless (very
unusual indeed) Gert was standing there wearing a blue jersey with only one
sleeve. The generator pulley had grabbed hold of the sleeve and shredded it to
pieces. Thankfully he still had all his fingers, but I had to run for my life,
plus it also took me hours to get all the bits of wool out of the engine
compartment.
Here is a mechanic’s
point of view about life in general:
Everything has
a designer and maker. For living things, some people call it God while
others call it Evolution, but there are many in-between views and opinions too.
For me, it’s about keeping an open mind and not being fixated on one specific
ideology.
I don’t
want to get into the purpose of life or what the hell I’m doing here, in this
post. Although I must concede that for me, the purpose of life is that there is
no purpose, unless you give it a purpose. You create your own purpose. Pro-creation,
i.e. creating more little versions of ourselves, is not a valid enough purpose.
If you look around you at the world in general, you might come to the
conclusion, as I have, that pro-creation is a great injustice to that little being
that's being created. But that's just me thinking out loud.
There are a
few necessities in life without which life would have no meaning. Besides love
and acceptance, it's a good cup of quality coffee in the morning and a relaxing
glass of wine at night and someone with whom to enjoy it.
Being a
mechanic by trade and having owned my own workshop for many years, I have
firsthand experience about how a vehicle, and especially an engine, works. The precise
specifications of each individual part, working together to create the whole –
a fully functioning motor. There is nothing more satisfying than putting all
these parts together with exact precision, and then taking that final breath
before turning the ignition key. Brrrrrrmmmmm. Pure pleasure to a mechanic’s
ears. Satisfaction. A good pat on the back.
A job well done.
What keeps your engine revving? There are two things that a mechanic checks, before anything else, if a vehicle has broken down – spark and fuel. There is a very short list of things that can ignite that spark within you. For me its boils down to two things really: being strongly convinced about something that you’d be willing to die for (my children), and the love of my wife. She is my reason for living, and the reason why I am still alive. My current purpose in life, as far as I am still able, is to please her as much as (and even more) than she pleases me. I am, because she is!
Speaking of
rebuilding engines, I had this revolutionary dream while I was still in the
ministry.
It is
strange that most of my dreams play off in a desert. Probably because of the
extreme conditions and the intense need for water. I had this dream in December,
2009. As a diesel mechanic, one of the vehicles that I really disliked in the
trade, was the old Landrover, and quite coincidently this is the vehicle that I
had in my dream.
Before I share
my dream, here’s a few Landrover jokes which circulated in the trade:
- Why does a Landrover
have demisters on the rear window? To warm the hands of the guys pushing it.
- What is the
worst part of a Landrover? The part between the front and the rear bumpers.
- What does
the owner of a Landrover ask the petrol attendant at the gas station? Please
check the petrol and fill up the oil.
- A Landrover
without an oil leak, has no oil left in it.
Okay, all
jokes aside. Sorry if I offended any Landrover enthusiasts (Jason, my buddy in
the UK) 😊
My dream: I
found myself in the desert riding along in a Landrover with my pastor friend,
André, sitting next to me. The next minute the Landrover gave a few jerks and
came to a standstill. We were out of fuel. In the distance I could see a large,
dark cloud and told André that we must head for the cloud in order to get
shelter from the intense heat of the desert sun. Looking around me I saw that
we were not alone. Dozens of other Landrovers stood spread out across the
desert, all of which had also run out of fuel.
I walked
over to the other Landrovers and saw that many of them had skeletons behind the
steering wheel with a note between their boney fingers. I also happened to
notice the names of the people – names of great evangelists and preachers of
the past. I took the notes from each of the skeletons, moving from Landrover to
Landrover, fascinated to know what they meant. Careful inspection revealed that
these notes, once put together, were a part of a plan. Even André and I had
such a note. I knelt down and started to put all the parts of the puzzle
together. Once assembled, the notes revealed the plan to build a vehicle which,
once built, would transport all the people out of the desert. This vehicle,
however, had no need of fuel.
Immediately
I set about finding the equipment to build this new vehicle. I stripped parts
off some of the broken down Landrovers to build this new, better vehicle.
At first, I
didn’t notice him, the stranger standing to the one side, watching me as I eagerly
put the pieces together. The man was dressed like an Arab and he rode a big
white horse. He just stood there watching me, saying nothing. Finally, he
ventured closer and asked: “What are you building?” With a slight rudeness, due
to the interruption and the dumb question, I answered: “I’m building a new,
better vehicle to help get the people through the desert.”
He stood
there silently, contemplating the whole situation and then finally spoke again
as he mounted his horse: “It looks like a Landrover to me.”
I fumed.
What did this desert dweller know about building a vehicle anyway? I turned my
back on him and continued my work with his words echoing through my thoughts.
Why on earth would I build another Landrover? The rider turned his horse around
and casually rode away across the hot desert sand.
I put down
my tools, annoyed with my thoughts, and took a few big steps back to view my
handiwork. It was a Landrover! How could this be possible? I mean, I followed
the plan carefully, according to all the notes I had found. Then it dawned on
me, the rider on the white horse would most likely have the answer.
I turned
and saw the hoof prints in the sand and started to go after the rider, following
the trail. At times the wind had already blown sand over the tracks and then I
would frantically search until I found where they became visible again. I had
to find him.
A beautiful
oasis lay in the distance and at first, I thought it was only a mirage, but as
I got closer, I saw the tall date palms and the tracks leading right into the
oasis. It became like a dense forest the deeper I went in, so dense that I had
to stop. I could barely get my hand between the trees they were so close
together. Oh, but I could see something big, something fantastic, made of gold
or was it oil? It was alive. This was the new vehicle, the one that would take
us through the desert.
The rider
on his white horse approached the dense trees and without any effort the trees
parted like curtains to let him pass through. I wanted to slip in behind him
but the trees quickly closed up again. I knew the answer was inside those trees
but how would I get to it? I woke up before I had the answer.
The reason
why I’m sharing this dream with you, is not to dissuade you from buying a Landrover, but to illustrate that you need to feel
passionate about something – your family, your love, your hobby, your dream, your
destination. Keep your engine revving. Don’t run out of fuel.
My last and
final passionate goal and the thing that keeps me revving up my engine every
day, is to find a way to get my wife to her children and granddaughter overseas. Then I will
have achieved my goal and I can turn off my engine and rest in peace.
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