My Irish buddy explained what "Luck of the Irish" is. It's when you step in dog crap, but you are wearing your old shoes.
The last couple of days, I've had just that kind of luck. Saturday my lovely wife and I drove down to Massachusetts to visit my daughter and her family. As we pulled into her town, the transmission started to slip badly. We did make it to their house, but just barely.
We'd planned on heading home Sunday, but fortunately, we didn't need to be home. Today the garages were open and I was able to get the truck into a transmission shop. It's going to need a new transmission. That's the dog crap part of things.
However, if I have to replace a transmission, this is the place to do it. The closest transmission shop to where I live is a good 50 miles away. In my daughter's city, there are four shops that specialized in transmissions. Might as well get it done here, where's there's some competition.
My wife had to get home because she has a doctor's appointment. As it happens, a friend of mine was able to give her a lift. He happened to be traveling through. I'm staying in MA until the job is done.
The mechanic asked if I did a lot of hauling. I mentioned that I'm going to be towing a sailboat. Turns out he's an avid sailor and we had a nice chat about sailing. He decided to reclassify my truck as a work truck so it got moved to the front of the line. That will save me a few days. He's also making sure to use heavy duty parts to stand up to towing.
Luck of the Irish. Having a transmission blow is never good, but if it had to be replaced, this was the way to do it.
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