‘The first step towards getting somewhere is deciding you’re not going to stay where you are.’ John Pierpont Morgan
(15-minute read)
My Dad bought the handsome dark green Volvo. He drove it proudly till he died, after which it became mine. When Grandpa, my father-in-law, needed a more reliable car, I gave him the Volvo to use. He drove it for fifteen years till he died at 91.
Now the Volvo was back again, so I parked it alongside our garage till I had time to deal with it. Within days leaves and dirt were heaped up against the wheels. Dried leaves accumulated in the gully between the windscreen and the large bonnet. It suddenly looked neglected and in poor condition.
To leave it standing there was a sure way to make sure it fell into disrepair. I now needed to sell it, but first, it needed a bit of work. Step one was to reverse it out of its dust bowl and get it cleaned up for some photographs.
A clean up
The first step was the local carwash. It came back in gleaming condition, but the marks on the bonnet which I’d hoped would be polished out, stubbornly remained. But at least it no longer looked sad and unwanted and was given a place under a real carport, where potential buyers could come and see it.
I advertised it online with some great pictures. The price was negotiable since it needed some cosmetic work; the driver’s seat was saggy, and the cubby hole was held closed by a plastic tie. But it still had a wonderfully purring engine with a reliable if spotty service record. The odometer hadn’t worked for years, but the mileage was low. No one was interested. I tried the trade-in route on a vehicle I was interested in. No go. They don’t take old Volvos.
I am not technically inclined, and happy to pay people who fix things. I considered all the Volvo needed was a cosmetic upgrade and a good service. After all, it had served Grandpa well till recently.
The battery
I finally got an email from a potential buyer and eagerly went to check if the Volvo was still in good shape for an impressive test drive that evening. The car did have a slow leak on the battery we never resolved, but if the car was used often, it did just fine, but not if it was left for too long. No amount of investigation over the years has resolved it. The battery therefore had a trickle charger connected to it, trailing from Grandpa’s bedroom window. When I tried to start it, it didn’t even click. The buyer thankfully couldn’t make it that evening, so I had some time to coax it back to life and headed to our local battery dealer to resolve it. They also sell tyres.
‘You still drive on these tyres?’ asked the consultant. We inspected them more closely. The back tyres had been made in 1994 and would crack if either of them connected with a pavement. The tread on the front tyres was not only dangerous but illegal. Grandpa only ever drove 5km at a time, so I’d never noticed them. It was time for new shoes. And so, I left decidedly poorer but with new car shoes and a new powerful battery. As a parting shot, they said: ‘We found the back wheels were buckled. We can’t fix that, but our other branch can.’
The cubby hole
That evening, I went to see whether I could find a more attractive way to keep the cubby hole closed. To my surprise, I found the cubby hole light on. It only switched off when the cover was closed, and the cover hadn’t been closed for at least two years. Grandpa had been charging the cubby hole light for many years with the famous trickle charger. I set about fixing it with two unsuitable screwdrivers. The button had to be pushed in fully to switch off the light. But the good Swedish spring would not be held in by matches, duct tape, or pieces of plastic. It meant taking out the cubby hole with a six-star screwdriver we didn’t have. Does anyone? But I had nothing else important to do that evening. It is now permanently dark in that little cubby with a five-cent coin wedged between the cubby box and the very determined button. The bulb itself is in a sealed unit to make sure no one can get to it.
The buckled wheels
With my new battery, new tyres, and dark cubby hole, I headed for the wheel buckling shop. ‘They didn’t tell you what this would cost?’ the salesperson asked looking concerned. He was right to be concerned. They went ahead while I took refuge in the cool waiting area and googled someplace close to refill the gas in the aircon. It was one of those sweltering hot days in Cape Town, and the car with its black leather seats was stifling. With the aircon blower on full, the car was no cooler.
The air conditioner
The aircon specialist the anti-buckling team referred me to put me on their month-long waiting list. The business I found on Google around the corner happily jumped in and got moving. Leaning against the wall for an hour, I watched the gas being removed, leaks checked, and then new gas filled the system. What a relief to leave with some cool air in the car, but it gave up halfway home.
The next morning, I was off to an aircon specialist who serviced these units. It started by repeating the same hour-long process for the gas to empty and refill. I had a chair this time. The gas was filled after replacing broken valves where the gas of the previous day had leaked out. I left more hopeful, but their parting shot was: ‘We think you should have your radiator checked, there seems to be a leak.’
I left with wonderful cool, but closer to home the familiar tepid air took over. The next morning my plastic chair was waiting. The problem was not the gas but the electronic thermostat. The next visit was to the auto electrician. We now have a booster on the compressor.
Some cosmetics
I was keen to do some cosmetic work on the paint-damaged bonnet and some scars on the black bumpers. I had told Grandpa for years the bumpers were there for a reason, and not to panic if they took a few knocks. They served him well. The enthusiastic panel beater could do everything and promised to have it gleaming in just a few days. He would send me a quote shortly. I never did receive one.
On the way back from the panel beater, I visited a trim specialist in the area who may be able to repair the sagging seat and the cubby hole, which was now thankfully dark inside. They pointed out the most important job was replacing the inside roof lining that was slowly coming loose But while waiting outside his shop, there was some welcome light rain. The casual comments made by Grandpa about the windscreen wipers now made sense.
The windscreen wipers
The wiper blades on the passenger side worked perfectly, but on the driver’s side, they only swept the top half of the window, which meant you had to look through the bottom left area of the glass. Grandpa was short, so it was probably just right, but I had to sit lower in my seat to make it work. I drove home peering through this space to see the road. Our friendly hardware store had high-quality blades, which they kindly fitted for me. Feeling pleased with this low-cost fix, I pressed the window washer to see them working. The new blades made no more impact than the ones I had just ditched in the bin. Tomorrow’s issue.
The boot lid
My son, who is a keen petrolhead, reminded me to get the boot lid fixed. It was a death trap if it fell on your head. The boot lid weighs as much as a small car. It had been supported by a perfectly cut piece of plank that had worked for Grandpa for years. I tracked down a suspension business that repaired gas stays. I would need to use the wood for a few more days, while they made new ones. The new and shining stainless-steel fittings didn’t fit. I found a plastic chair and some old car magazines for entertainment while they ground them to fit. But in the corner of the shop was a display of the high-quality windscreen wiper blades I had bought a few days before. I called over someone who seemed free and keen to give advice and asked how the new blades only wiped part of the driver’s window. With an experienced eye and the bonnet up, my new hero swapped the wipers and around. And like magic, it worked. I then recalled an incident when my dad was alive. The Volvo, with no hand-break on, had rolled into a wall. Along with whatever else the panel beaters did, they had replaced the mechanisms incorrectly. Both my dad and Grandpa had been struggling with limited vision in the rain for nearly twenty years and probably changed the blades many times along the way.
The radiator
I had put the radiator out of my mind. Since, despite the leak, it worked, and Grandpa never had an issue with it. But driving over Welgemoed Hill on my way home with my new boot and new wipers in bright sunlight, a new warning light appeared on the dash. A red bottle with a fan in it. Driving as slowly as I could to the next garage, we opened the bonnet to find the water boiling out. I was referred to a small business that gave personal service. With three people peering into the bonnet, none looking too pleased. Since no radiators were available a week before Christmas, the team in a swelteringly hot workshop, did the best repair job they could.
I sat on an upholstered chair this time, even if the seat was precariously held on by only two screws. Then sat against the wall behind the building to watch steel putty dry in the sun. It would only take an hour. The final test in a water bath showed a different leak. All I would need to do was carry water in the car and check it periodically. Given my disinclination for technical things, my excitement about driving around with a bottle of water and periodically opening the bonnet was not my idea of a radiator fix. I was introduced to a new member of the team who would call other suppliers around the country. Someone in Durban had one. But a few minutes later to my surprise, they phoned the same person again, just to check the progress. ‘I wasn’t a detective in the police for 28 years for nothing’ they said under their breath. The supplier had in those few minutes lost track of our order. We now had a deal for it to be shipped down.
How did Grandpa manage so well?
You might be wondering how Grandpa used the car without issues for so long. I was wondering the same. Apart from his battery charger that trailed from his bedroom window, he went to the market and the shops with a spring in his step. And the car never let him down. But Grandpa had different needs, he operated in a very limited space, and even then, he didn’t need to use the car too often. It met all his needs. I sent a light-hearted message to Reid, my brother-in-law, reporting progress. He commented there were surely lessons to be learned, which is how I came to write this.
Personal Step 1: Reverse
Whether it’s your car or your makeover, it starts with deciding you are not going to stay where you are. It’s deciding to reverse out of the situation where you are parked. While the Volvo was parked in the sand pit, it looked sad and unattractive. Once it had been cleaned up and undercover, it was again handsome and proud. Only then could we consider some work under the bonnet and make some decisions about the next step.
Step 2: Get cleaned up
When we need new direction, new courage, new inspiration, or a new plan, it doesn’t matter where we start. It may mean getting a haircut, tidying your work, or living space, opening the windows, getting up earlier, establishing a more consistent sleep pattern, getting control of your money, changing what you eat, and getting your teeth fixed. Identify those things you can control and start there. It might even be cleaning your car. Start anywhere.
Personal Step 3: Sort your battery
Your energy is everything. If you have no energy, you cannot make your best contribution. You may not even be able to get yourself out of bed. You may need to restore your energy by taking a break or spending time doing things that inspire you. It might be connecting with people that give you energy, or taking on new challenges that drive you and that make you feel alive. It might be getting some regular exercise. You too might have a cubby hole light that keeps stealing energy from you. People that drain your energy. Places that drain your energy. A health problem. Or waiting for life to improve without taking action. Lack of action can leave you feeling helpless and weak. Get your battery recharged helpfully, so you don’t need to be dependent on artificial stimulants or other people to keep you going. If you are dependent on a trickle charger, it might let you down when you need it most.
Personal Step 4: Get your wheels moving
One of the first things I did for the Volvo was to get it some new tyres, or it wasn’t going anywhere. No amount of intellect or talent is of use unless you can translate it into action. No mechanical fixes would have been helpful on the Volvo unless its wheels worked, and the buckling was sorted out. Grandpa in recent days travelled only five kilometres from home, and it served him well. But if it’s time for new things, new places and the open road, you are going to need some new tyres. Cars are designed to move, we are too.
Step 5: Check your radiator
Radiators are designed to cool things down. We overheat when we chuck our toys, lose our cool, spend hours getting frustrated, complain about life, get angry at things we have no control over, hold grudges, and dictate how others behave. Maybe your biggest obstacle is getting overheated when things don’t go your way. If you don’t fix your thermostat, you could seize entirely. Our thinking, our emotions and our behaviour choices are all part of our heating system. It may mean learning to manage your emotions, challenging the way you see the world, and re-examining the demands we make on yourself and other people. The Volvo needed some heat regulation, you may need some too.
Step 6: Check your vision
Interestingly, the wiper problem was only on the driver’s side of the window, and spot on. One of our most important jobs is getting clarity on our vision. It’s all too easy to have a clear vision of what other people in our lives should be doing. But what may be missing is having insight into your blind spots, your lack of clarity, or your lack of focus and action. If your wipers are not working, and you are spending too much time looking through the passenger window, maybe you need to change the mechanisms around too.
Personal Step 7: Check your boot lid
The boot lid was a death trap. You too might have things that are waiting to bring you down. Things that are huge and which you have chosen to ignore can come crashing down on you. You may be using other people or artificial props to hold you up rather than filling your gas stays. The trouble is when someone takes your support, you cannot be self-supporting or work things out for yourself. And if it takes some grinding, be patient, some things take longer.
Personal Step 8: Do the work
When I first set about fixing the Volvo, I saw a new gleaming bonnet, re-upholstered front seats, and a neat dashboard face. That’s all it will take, right? But even if I got all that right, it might not have started, it might have overheated on the hills, and when it rained the driver’s vision would be severely compromised. I might get a compliment like: ‘What a beautiful car!’ or ‘You are so lucky!’ If you only focus on what other people see, you may look good, but you won’t be going anywhere soon. We all need to do the work under the bonnet; the long nights, the early mornings, the personal challenges, the risks, the failures, the false starts, and staying with it when the going gets tough. If success matters to you, you also have to put in the time and effort that no one sees. You can fix the bonnet later.
Personal Step 9: Check your warning lights
Despite the work I’ve done on the Volvo so far, three persistent warning lights show up on the dashboard. An orange triangle reports an engine problem of a general nature, which no one has been able to diagnose for years. The ABS light, despite being checked by brake specialists, continues to light up. The service light now reminds me a service is due. A friend suggested light-heartedly that I could get these lights to go out by just taking the bulbs out. Imagine the pilot in an aeroplane deciding these warning lights are so irritating, let’s just remove the bulbs….
We all have our warning lights. Recurring issues that don’t go away. Things we continue to struggle with despite our best efforts. Things that trip us up time and time again. You can take out the bulbs and pretend they are not there. Or you can welcome them as a friendly warning system that something is not quite right. And then once in a while, the service light will appear. We all need regular work done. It might be advice from a mentor, someone to test our thinking, a new direction, or someone honest enough to point out things that need attention.
Personal Step 10: It’s never too late
When I got no offers on the Volvo, and the ongoing repairs were becoming increasingly costly and time-consuming, I did wonder if I’d get more if I sold it for scrap. It’s easy to give up, to consider the cost of time and effort is not worth it. Except, you are worth it. You have a purpose and life that is not an accident. ‘It’s never too late to dream a new dream and set a new goal.’ said C.S. Lewis. The Volvo now has a proud new owner, who I trust is enjoying the car as much as my dad and grandpa did. It has a great engine and will take the new owner far. It might still have a few warning lights shining brightly, but it will do well.
We all need to give up being perfect and go for excellence. The Volvo might never be completely done, any more than we are. We are all works in progress and always will be. Wherever you are on your journey, just take the next step at a time. Your life is worth it.
©Andrew Bramley. All Rights Reserved. 2023