Back in the dark ages, I drove cement mixer truck for a friend of the family. It was a good, small outfit.
He (Elvin Hawkins) had 3 trucks and he wanted them to be the prettiest mixer trucks in the valley. Each driver was expected to spend 1 hour per day polishing glass, chrome, and aluminum.
We mostly did our own maintenance, and could run down and buy anything we wanted that would doll up the trucks.
Me... I wanted the damn thing to act in a way that would make me the driver that all those cement contractors would ask for. So I adjusted the clutch where I thought it should be. Take up your foot off the floor, and to the truck would want to move.
I liked it and I was the only driver who drove #33 so that's how it oughta stay, right?
We'll, just ask any mechanic and he'll tell you that a truck driver is the lowest form of life on Earth. The shop foreman, a good friend (Brian Cam) who stole a flirting prospect (Myra Deitrick) from me in High School and married her, drove my truck (#33) to the tire shop and didn't like the way the clutch felt.
So he adjusted it to where it engaged way up on top just as you were thinking about shifting again. It was maddening.
We'll, we talked it over. He agreed to never unadjust my clutch again until the day after I was fired.
Looking back, it must have been a pleasant discussion. Patty and I are Godparents to a pair of Jackson County Sheriff Deputies and he and Myra (now deceased) Godparented our Jake.
Hey, it is not all about clutches.
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