In my world, finding a good auto mechanic is almost as big of a deal as finding a spouse. In both cases, it is (or at least should be) a “till death do you part” kind of relationship. I am a child of divorce and really hate breakups – of all kinds. Breaking up with a mechanic is bad – mainly because you have to find another one. Living the single life is not an option when it comes to keeping your car running. A good mechanic is a necessity.

Sadly, the one I have been using for several years has become part of a relationship I simply can no longer abide. A relationship with a mechanic requires trust, and since this particular shop seems to have changed hands a few years ago, things have been deteriorating on that front.

Once upon a time, I was younger, thinner and less affluent than I am now. It also helped that I loved cars, and so it was natural that I would tackle most of my own repair jobs when they became necessary. I watched older guys make car repairs, and then my friends and I did simple jobs on each others’ cars, making rookie mistakes and learning along the way. I slowly built up a moderate supply of tools, a decent jack and safety stands, and even a good pair of coveralls to keep the grease (and rust) off my clothes.

There has always been a boundary line for more complex jobs that I have been unwilling to cross. As age and financial abilities (and the complexity of my cars) have increased, that boundary has moved closer and closer to me and I have been willing to pass off more and more work to professional mechanics. I have one big problem, however, that many folks do not. I am still pretty decent at diagnosing problems and need a mechanic who will listen to me and explain things at a higher level than is necessary for most customers.

What is a good mechinc? He (it is virtually always a “he”, though I am certainly open to the alternitive) will fix what needs to be fixed and not fix what doesn’t need to be fixed. He will also understand the sliding scale of cars, from a “good car” which requires high-standard repairs and a less expensive older car that needs to be safe and relatively reliable, but which does not need every part to operate as new. Finally, their rates must be reasonable.

For quite a few years I had a really good mechanic who fit all of these qualifications. But then he took over a larger shop and his overhead jumped substantially. That, along with his location in an affluent area, led to his rates creeping higher and higher. This might have also been his way of dissuading me from bringing older cars in, which can be more difficult to work on and mess up the flow of work in a busy shop. I eventually found a replacement nearby and it was a great thing for several years. But then there were changes in the people there and things started to go sideways.

The first time I started to have doubts was a couple of years ago. My daughter called me from the other side of my city. “My car is making a funny noise.” I made time to check out the situation, and found an alternator that was absolutely screaming in agony. I am afflicted by a condition called “mechanical sympathy”, and when I hear a mechanism that is loudly protesting, it really bothers me. It was after my mechanic’s closing time, so I swapped keys with my kid and drove her car to my house, hoping that the poor alternator would hold itself together for the rest of the ride. Hold together it did. So much so, that when I went to start the car the next morning it would not start. My theory was that the alternator had gotten so hot that it had welded itself together after I shut the car off.

After a tow-in, the mechanic called me. “Bad news. I think it broke a timing belt and this engine is toast.” When I explained that we had done the timing belt service at a Honda Dealer relatively recently and that I really believed that it was a seized alternator, they checked again. “You were right – the alternator seized and the engine seems OK.” “Yes, I know” was the reply that I crammed back down my throat before it came out.

My current mechanic-needing car is a 19 year old Mazda. I own it for driving to and from work. It doesn’t look great, but it starts every day and blows both hot and cold air out of the vents, so it does everything I need it to do. When I first got the car, I got a starter put in it – from a different shop, but that’s a different story. About a month ago the car refused to start at my job. It was a weekend, and rather than towing it to the place that put in the starter, I opted to to to my usual mechanic. I suspected that the rebuilt starter might have quit. Although I was not as sure about this as I was about my daughter’s alternator.

They replaced the starter, then called later to say they found another problem – a fuse to the starter. Which left me wondering if I needed a new starter after all. They also recommended another $2k of work for the rear suspension, including new shocks. I declined that work, and everything seemed fine. Until the day I hit a big pothole and broke a part that holds one of the rear shocks in place. My research indicated that this is a fairly common issue on these cars, and the broken part is readily available.

The problem? My shop called me and told me that the car was too rusty underneath to safely repair. I wanted to ask how the rust advanced so quickly in the month since they wanted me to replace these very same rear shocks. The car was safe enough to spend $2k last month but not now? I know that cars rust in Indiana, but they don’t rust that fast. The shop’s claim was not adding up, and I figured that 1) they were looking for some revenue a month ago and/or 2) that they were busy enough now that nobody wanted to deal with rusty fasteners underneath.

This is a problem with many mechanics – they get used to dealing with newer cars. I have found that when I have an old beater, I have better luck with mechanics whose customer base is mostly old beaters. I went to such a place, and was in and out with new struts for $600. And this was after I told them in advance that my prior shop wouldn’t do the job, claiming that the car was unsafe because of the rust.

I understand that a car can become unsafe because of rusted parts of its structure, and I have no doubt that this fate will befall my trusty little Mazda at some point. But to my eye, the car is not there yet, and apparently shop number 2 agrees. So, I think it is time to say goodbye to Shop No. 1. Maybe I have found one in Shop No. 2, although they are not in a very convenient location. As middle aged people say when discussing dating, “The good ones are out there.” Hopefully I will find one of them again.

Lede photo – vintage postcard that featured the service department of a long-ago Studebaker dealer in Indianapolis, Indiana.