[Arm-netbook] Totally derailed topic

Peter Carlson petercarlson79 at gmail.com
Tue May 30 17:23:33 BST 2017

And so Tommy Locklear achieves what so many strive for, to be remembered,
to have mattered.
The ultimate compliment when ones dies "They were a good person, they will
be missed"

On Tue, May 30, 2017 at 10:11 AM Christopher Havel <laserhawk64 at gmail.com>

> Pardon me for saying, but the thought that I don't have enough common sense
> in my own dang head to know right from wrong, I find that a little
> offensive.
> I learned honesty from a man named Tommy Locklear. You've never heard of
> him, but he was a wonderful and kind person, while he was around. You might
> be a little skeptical of my claim when you learn that Tommy was a local
> mechanic for most of his life -- mechanics not having much of a reputation
> for honesty in most places, or so I hear -- but I'll offer up a story as
> evidence that this fellow was perhaps the exception to prove the rule.
> When my grandmother passed, she left behind, amongst many other things, her
> 1991 Ford Escort LX. Silver on the outside and light grey with dark grey
> and black accents, it was basically the color of a silent film. Not having
> much alternative, it quickly became Mom's car, for many, many years (she
> eventually bought a gently used '98 Saturn in the early 2000s, which
> replaced the Escort.) This was the sort of car where the speedometer pegged
> at 85, but you never actually wanted to go that fast in it. At 65mph, the
> car vibrated concerningly. At 75, one tended to be of the persuasion that
> the doors were about to fall off. We never did peg the speedometer, so I
> can't tell you what that was like. Mom wasn't much of one for lead-foot
> anyways... although there were times when that car went a little faster
> than it perhaps should have, so that we'd get someplace on time after
> leaving home late.
> At some point in our lives, we moved from a little podunk town in North
> Carolina, to Chapel Hill (of UNC basketball fame) so that Mom could get
> some graduate school experience. It was during this time that our little
> Escort sedan sprung a rather nasty oil leak. Mom took it to some nearby
> garage and they read her like a book. Knowing she knew absolutely nothing
> about cars except how to drive them, they told her it would be thousands of
> dollars for a new head gasket. She decided -- luckily -- to get a second
> opinion from Tommy. Well... Tommy came and got the car and brought it back
> to our little podunk town (out of which he operated) and took it into the
> shop. We were along for the ride. He popped the hood, poked around a
> little, and put the car up on the lift before poking around a little more.
> Then he called Mom over. He pointed to a little plug in the bottom of the
> crankcase, and explained that the plug, which (although I'll never know for
> sure, I was too young at the time) was probably for draining the oil out of
> the sump, had a broken seal. He replaced the plug and its seal for the
> princely sum of fifteen dollars, and that was the end of the leak.
> Tommy's whole life was filled with stories like that. He was an excellent
> mechanic for decades. He eventually had to stop working on cars, though,
> when his diabetes caught up with him enough to have his left leg amputated
> at the knees -- see, despite running a thriving business and being perhaps
> the most honest mechanic in town (and the town knew it!) he never could
> quite afford to keep the medication going that would have kept his diabetes
> in check... he eventually died, a few years ago, of a heart attack. I will
> note that the man that took over Tommy's garage after the amputation,
> pretty well ran it into the ground because he was not nearly as wholesome a
> man as Tommy was. Kind of a shame.
> I guess the point here is, if we have good role models around us, we can
> learn from our fellow humans what we need to know. As for me, I'd rather
> live in the here and now than dwell on what might happen --but can't be
> known for sure-- in the hereafter. Besides... isn't there something a
> little bit sinister, in a "Hotel California" sort of a way, about
> essentially living in a dream where you can have anything you want as long
> as it's not waking up...? ;)
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