Why I love the Internet
So, my parents decided to sell their 2003 Honda Element and I decided to buy it. Simple enough.
Primarily, they wanted something with lower miles. A secondary reason was the Element wouldn't pass New York's state inspection in March because the odometer was not functioning. Or so they thought.
Their Honda dealer had investigated the problem and determined it needed a new gauge cluster ($437.40) plus $150 to reprogram the new cluster to the actual mileage on the vehicle.
They had already bought a new car and didn't want to sink any more money into the Element. Minnesota, of course, doesn't have a state inspection so I could have cared less about a functioning odometer and said I'd buy it without even knowing how much they wanted for the thing.
Anyhow, I got to thinking. If there is one part on a modern vehicle that is going to be dead nuts reliable and fuck proof, it's the odometer.
The beauty of the Internet, aside from an unlimited supply of pornography, is that it's the best gathering place ever invented for highly focused, obsessed communities. You left-handed, transvestite, sidecar drivers know what I'm talking about.
As you probably have figured out, I tend to take a fairly big picture view of vehicles.
Pretty much, as long as it's not on fire I don't care about it.
I can't even tell you for sure what year my pickup is, much less how many amps the alternator is putting out or how many horsepower the air conditioning saps on the highway.
I fill them up with gas. Change the oil and fix stuff when it breaks. Other than that, I really just don't care.
The same holds true with the airplanes I fly every day except somebody else fills them up with gas, changes the oil and fixes things when they break.
I can, for example, describe to you in detail the fuel system of a Cessna 310 right down to how many fuel pumps there are, how much gas each tank holds and how to get it where it needs to be.
On the other hand, I don't know for certain who makes the engines.
This is because not understanding the fuel system could kill me but whether the engines were built by Lycoming or Continental is of essentially no operational consequence.
The Element, being a fairly weird vehicle, seems to have more than it's fair share of fanatical devotees. There may be a Chevrolet Malibu Owners Group or a Toyota Camry Drivers Association but I doubt they approach the degree of passion and insane level of detail documented by the 143 different owners groups devoted to the new Mini.
Weird vehicles attract weird, obsessed people. Thankfully, those weird, obsessed people like to show how smart they are to other weird, obsessed people who are equally devoted to Kia Souls or Toyota Matrixes. (Or is it Matrii? I'm sure there are several sticky threads devoted to that very subject.)
So I spent a few minutes rubbing virtual shoulders with the weird, obsessed people who drive Honda Elements. Turns out, most Honda dealers have their head's up their asses when it comes to blank odometers (and everything else) on 2003 to 2007 Honda Elements built by Joe and Saki on the third shift under a full moon in winter.
Or something like that. You get the idea. Did I mention these people are obsessed?
Turns out, my newly found obsessive compulsive Honda Element driving friends pointed out, odometers are pretty much dead nuts reliable and fuck proof.
Light bulbs, on the other hand, burn out.
Why Honda dealers haven't figured this out remains a mystery but there were literally 12 pages of stories from people who had experienced the same problem and been quoted $437.50 plus $150 to repair what was almost always really a couple of burned out light bulbs.
Sure enough, when my folks took a flashlight and shined it on the blank odometer they were able to read the digits.
They were, rightly, not happy at all with their local Honda dealer. On the other hand they were very happy with their son, who in turn was very happy with his newly found obsessive compulsive Honda Element driving friends.
So, after explaining that since the odometer actually was working I was more than happy to not buy the Element at all or at least to pay more than the absurdly low price they were asking, my parents still sold the thing to me and I drove it home from New York quite happily not knowing how many miles I had actually traveled.
A quick trip to PepBoys put me in possession of a pair of 2721 bulbs. (Type 74 bulbs seem to work ok as well, although some people have had more success with type 73 bulbs and several have changed all of the instrument panel bulbs to LEDs but still others have painted their bulbs to change the instrument panel lighting color while others argue that it's better to buy the properly colored bulbs from superlumination.com.)
Sorry, I got distracted.
After studying the extremely detailed how-to (complete with photographs that were graced with little arrows and super-imposed boxes of varying styles to denote clips versus parts that just pulled straight out versus screws) I spent 10 whole minutes replacing the burned out 35505-SCV-A11 (that's the Honda part number for the odometer light bulbs, not to be confused with 35505-SCV-A01 which are the regular instrument panel bulbs and are 1.2 watts instead of 2.0 watts for the odometer bulbs) with my 2721 bulbs from PepBoys.
The bulbs cost $3.74, I now have a readable odometer and I swear to God everything else is true, right down to the part numbers.
Which is why I love the internet.
The real question, however, is why I bothered to replace the damn things in the first place.
I think I'm becoming an obsessive compulsive Element driver.
Primarily, they wanted something with lower miles. A secondary reason was the Element wouldn't pass New York's state inspection in March because the odometer was not functioning. Or so they thought.
Their Honda dealer had investigated the problem and determined it needed a new gauge cluster ($437.40) plus $150 to reprogram the new cluster to the actual mileage on the vehicle.
They had already bought a new car and didn't want to sink any more money into the Element. Minnesota, of course, doesn't have a state inspection so I could have cared less about a functioning odometer and said I'd buy it without even knowing how much they wanted for the thing.
Anyhow, I got to thinking. If there is one part on a modern vehicle that is going to be dead nuts reliable and fuck proof, it's the odometer.
The beauty of the Internet, aside from an unlimited supply of pornography, is that it's the best gathering place ever invented for highly focused, obsessed communities. You left-handed, transvestite, sidecar drivers know what I'm talking about.
As you probably have figured out, I tend to take a fairly big picture view of vehicles.
Pretty much, as long as it's not on fire I don't care about it.
I can't even tell you for sure what year my pickup is, much less how many amps the alternator is putting out or how many horsepower the air conditioning saps on the highway.
I fill them up with gas. Change the oil and fix stuff when it breaks. Other than that, I really just don't care.
The same holds true with the airplanes I fly every day except somebody else fills them up with gas, changes the oil and fixes things when they break.
I can, for example, describe to you in detail the fuel system of a Cessna 310 right down to how many fuel pumps there are, how much gas each tank holds and how to get it where it needs to be.
On the other hand, I don't know for certain who makes the engines.
This is because not understanding the fuel system could kill me but whether the engines were built by Lycoming or Continental is of essentially no operational consequence.
The Element, being a fairly weird vehicle, seems to have more than it's fair share of fanatical devotees. There may be a Chevrolet Malibu Owners Group or a Toyota Camry Drivers Association but I doubt they approach the degree of passion and insane level of detail documented by the 143 different owners groups devoted to the new Mini.
Weird vehicles attract weird, obsessed people. Thankfully, those weird, obsessed people like to show how smart they are to other weird, obsessed people who are equally devoted to Kia Souls or Toyota Matrixes. (Or is it Matrii? I'm sure there are several sticky threads devoted to that very subject.)
So I spent a few minutes rubbing virtual shoulders with the weird, obsessed people who drive Honda Elements. Turns out, most Honda dealers have their head's up their asses when it comes to blank odometers (and everything else) on 2003 to 2007 Honda Elements built by Joe and Saki on the third shift under a full moon in winter.
Or something like that. You get the idea. Did I mention these people are obsessed?
Turns out, my newly found obsessive compulsive Honda Element driving friends pointed out, odometers are pretty much dead nuts reliable and fuck proof.
Light bulbs, on the other hand, burn out.
Why Honda dealers haven't figured this out remains a mystery but there were literally 12 pages of stories from people who had experienced the same problem and been quoted $437.50 plus $150 to repair what was almost always really a couple of burned out light bulbs.
Sure enough, when my folks took a flashlight and shined it on the blank odometer they were able to read the digits.
They were, rightly, not happy at all with their local Honda dealer. On the other hand they were very happy with their son, who in turn was very happy with his newly found obsessive compulsive Honda Element driving friends.
So, after explaining that since the odometer actually was working I was more than happy to not buy the Element at all or at least to pay more than the absurdly low price they were asking, my parents still sold the thing to me and I drove it home from New York quite happily not knowing how many miles I had actually traveled.
A quick trip to PepBoys put me in possession of a pair of 2721 bulbs. (Type 74 bulbs seem to work ok as well, although some people have had more success with type 73 bulbs and several have changed all of the instrument panel bulbs to LEDs but still others have painted their bulbs to change the instrument panel lighting color while others argue that it's better to buy the properly colored bulbs from superlumination.com.)
Sorry, I got distracted.
After studying the extremely detailed how-to (complete with photographs that were graced with little arrows and super-imposed boxes of varying styles to denote clips versus parts that just pulled straight out versus screws) I spent 10 whole minutes replacing the burned out 35505-SCV-A11 (that's the Honda part number for the odometer light bulbs, not to be confused with 35505-SCV-A01 which are the regular instrument panel bulbs and are 1.2 watts instead of 2.0 watts for the odometer bulbs) with my 2721 bulbs from PepBoys.
The bulbs cost $3.74, I now have a readable odometer and I swear to God everything else is true, right down to the part numbers.
Which is why I love the internet.
The real question, however, is why I bothered to replace the damn things in the first place.
I think I'm becoming an obsessive compulsive Element driver.
posted by Will at 2:24 PM
4 Comments:
"The beauty of the Internet, aside from an unlimited supply of pornography, is that it's the best gathering place ever invented for highly focused, obsessed communities"...and blogs by pilots who love flying but can also keep us entertained on other subjects.
Cheers!
Bob
Will;
You will be an Outstanding example of an overly Obsessive Compulsive Honda Element owner... Sir!
Kurt
reminds me of the bulbs in a DAVTRON clock/OAT/timer
although DAVTRON will send you free replacement bulbs
MBT new arrival, MBT Shoes on sale, welcome to buy a pair of Discount MBT Shoes.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home