The Great Volvo Adventure

Last Wednesday Carole and I were in Tuscaloosa. She was visiting with her mother and it was my first day of classes at “The” University. I am teaching the senior design project this year but more on that later. When we got ready to leave to come home, we had to bring a bunch of sacks of stuff with us from Carole’s mom for Jackson’s and Preston’s birthday party this weekend. Honestly, I don’t know why we had to bring it, Carole’s mother was coming to the party. Why couldn’t she just bring it? I have learned to pick my fights and this wasn’t going to be one of them. The Carole remembers there is something else that she was supposed to bring. I tell her to go back and get it but she doesn’t want to. She says it will take her another thirty minutes to get in and back out. So we head down the hill out of the neighborhood.
When we get to the traffic light, I hear this noise from her side of the car like “phew” only drawn out southern style like “pewshu”. I though “is she that relieved to be leaving her mother, did they get into a mother daughter fight”. Carole asked what was that noise? I told her I thought it was her breathing a sigh of relieve. Well that is what I thought, I actually accused her of farting. We laugh about it and, just pass the issue off as a random noise you here in towns.
On to the interstate and a few miles up the road we are adjacent to a truck with a bad tire. I have already changed lanes to pass because I don’t want that tire coming apart and damaging the car. We hear a whop, whop, whop noise. Carole is getting more concerned that something is wrong with the car. If she hadn’t got those hearing aids a few weeks ago she wouldn’t have been able to hear any of the noises. I point out the tire on the truck and we head on home.
After we pass the truck then whop, whop, whop again. Oh crap, I just got pull in with a tow truck last week in the other car; my luck can’t be that bad. Then we hear the whop, whop, whop again coming from the right rear. The car is driving OK so we pull off at the next interchange. Tires are OK. I feel all around the tire for knots and bad places but these are almost new tires. I get down on hands and knees and look under the rear, then again in the front. Carole is looking under the side. We can’t find anything. It must just be some trash we picked up and when we slowed down it fell off.
So back on the interstate again. Everything is fine, then, whop, whop, whop, pewshu. Then again whop, whop, whop, pewshu. Carole is freaking. Damn, I knew those hearing aids where going to cause me troubles. What can be back there that could cause that problem. The only thing I can think of is the gas cap. I know that pressure builds in the tank and it can cause your check engine light to come on if it isn’t tight. Yea, that bit of knowledge cost me a hundred buck to find out a few years back. It has to be the gas cap that isn’t screwed on tight. Carole filled the car up last and bless her heart she doesn’t even know which way bolts and screw turn to tighten. So off the interstate at the rest stop and tighten the gas cap.
So back on the interstate again. Everything is fine and I am the cool car mechanic husband who can fix any problem. Then whop, whop, whop, pewshu. Then the same thing several more times. Well it has to be something with the gas cap that is the only thing back there. Maybe it is cross-threaded or the gasket has a kink. So off at the next interchange. Take the cap off and put it back on. Push hard and crank down on that sucker so I want have to do that again.
So back on the interstate again. Everything is fine and I am breathing a sigh of relief, this has really been a strange problem. Then whop, whop, whop, pewshu. Then whop, whop, whop, pewshu but louder. Now I am beginning to wonder if we are going to make it home. The Volvo dealer in Pensacola, where we bought the car has a good service department. I pick up the cell phone and call Pat the service manager. When they connect me to Pat, I get someone else, “Pat is busy can I help you”. So I describe the whop, whop, whop, pewshu sound. “Man I never heard anything like that; you need to talk to Pat.” Thought, duh isn’t that who I called. Repeat the whop, whop, whop, pewshu sounds to Pat. “That is weird, there is nothing that can make that kind of sound.” He does say there is a canister back there that traps vapors off the gas tank and filters the air. It is a pollution thing. Maybe something has broken on it, a hose has come off, but it shouldn’t make noises like that. Then the famous dealer words; “You are going to have to bring it in.” I explain that I will have to schedule a time and call for an appointment. In my head is “like shit man you are in Pensacola and I am in Birmingham how in the hell am I going to get the car to you anytime soon. What if it breaks down while driving two hundred miles to Pensacola?” Carole and I start comparing schedules. When can we get the car to a dealer in Birmingham? “Damn living is a small town is a pain in the ass sometimes.”
It is our forty-second anniversary and we think if we are going to celebrate our anniversary by walking home, we need to stop somewhere good for dinner. We pull in to the Galleria for dinner. After dinner as we are getting back in the car I ask Carole what is in those package back there. “Oh just some toys for the boys.” “Is there anything that can make noise?” “I don’t think so.” Would you open them up to see?” The first one is a little dump truck. Then she picks up the second package. “Whop, whop, whop, pewshu.” Thomas the Train chugging along and letting off steam.
We get a good laugh about it. Apparently when we hit a bump it would move the toy just enough to activate it. After we put it back in the car, it didn’t do it again the rest of the way home.
The next day I called Pat and told him how he could diagnose Volvo noises when they sounded like Thomas the Train. He died laughing and said it was the funniest thing he had ever come across.
There has to be a moral to this story. I just don’t know what it is.