Trying to Understand Cars

My car has developed a bumpy wobble at the back.
I have been in denial about it for a month or so. I keep telling myself that the state of the roads in Hertfordshire is just getting worse and worse but the wobble is now so bad that it feels as if I am driving across a dirt track in Africa.

I become stupidly superstitious. I pray and ask God to send angels and take the wobble away but God is silent on the subject. It's as if He expects me to use my own initiative and sort it out rather than blindly using prayer as some kind of metaphysical 'slot machine'.

After another couple of weeks I realise that God is not going to send angels to fix my car in the night and start to really worry about the wobble.
In my mind the potential issues that may be causing it become more and more ludicrously expensive.
I know very little about cars.
I mean, I understand that forward motion is not achieved by a team of hobgoblins under the hood engaging in black magik but, at some level I remain very superstitious about them. I don't really understand what makes them go. They seem to me to be capricious and fantastic creatures which require a delicate balance of incantations and superstitious rituals in order to work .

In the end (when the wobble is so bad that I am too embarrassed to take passengers) I crack and visit a local garage. I am immediately intimidated by the overall clad denizen behind the desk. He is clearly a 'real man' who understands which end of a wrench to hold and doesn't need to look up what type of engine oil to buy in shops.
To offset my embarrassment at the wobble situation, I quickly fall into what I mentally refer to as my 'talking to mechanics' manner. This involves trying to appear competent in regards to vehicular maintenance (whilst probably betraying my total lack of understanding).

'Yeah mate, I'm not sure whats going on with it. It's developed a bit of a wobble in the rear lately. I'm thinking it's maybe the tracking or the Schubert pin. Maybe the drive train is off flange or something'.

He follows me outside and looks at the rear wheels for the briefest of moments.
'Yeah, that's probably the issue' he grins, pointing at the state of the tread on my rear tyres.
I must confess that I had not paid overmuch attention to them recently. Again, this is an area of quiet denial for me (similar to my approach to banking and my blind spot when it comes to the fact that the bin requires emptying).

The tyres are in such an advanced state of wear that I can in fact see the wire sticking through them.
There is no option available other than to throw myself at the garages mercy and ask for immediate new tyres.
Although the situation made me look like a prize plum in front of the 'real men' at the garage. It did serve to give them all a good laugh (I could see them laughing and pointing at my knackered tyres through the glass) & the car is now 'sans wobble'.

Hopefully this will pacify the car into good behaviour for a good while yet. I am currently avoiding looking too hard at my reflection in shop windows when driving at night as have a sneaky suspicion that one of my headlight bulbs needs replacing.

Oh Father, please send now thy angels in this thy child's time of darkness...

Trying to Learn Piano 7: One hundred Hours!

So this week I finally reached my first one hundred hours of piano practice. That's one hundred hours of crouching in my freezing shed at the bottom of the garden, pounding out badly syncopated melodies like some sort of mentally ill poddington pea.

I have learned a lot in this short time. Firstly I have learned that you should never try and practice when your five year old daughter is present as she will want to play counterpoint (but to a totally dissonant song which is taking place in another universe where there is no concept of music).
She also loves pressing random buttons whilst I am practicing which leads to hitherto unimagined versions of songs. 'Fur Elise' for pianoforte and drowning Rottweiler anyone?

Secondly I have learned that keys on the ALDI keyboard occasionally stop making any noise during practice. Particular culprits are the D keys after about ten minutes of playing. This has made learning Bach's minuet in Gmajor more challenging than it needed to be. Writing this, I am now wondering if there is a connection between my daughters frenzied button mashing and the sudden lack of D's

Thirdly I have learned that composers do not identify flats and sharps in their sheet music if they are part of the key signature. This has led to the embarrassing situation where a friend had to inform me that the previously mentioned minuet has some F sharps in . I like my version better. I think Bach would have liked it with no F sharps or D's in it. It sounds more like music you would hear in a commercial for toilet rim cleaning equipment though. I imagine a bold silky male voiceover saying something like
 'Use Turdblaster Special D to scrub those darn dastardly dags from your rim and leave it  F sharp and sparkly white'
and then it cuts to film of a wife knocking on the closed bathroom door and the husband calling back  'I'll be done in just a Minuet darling'.

I have successfully learned some songs and intro's. My favourite is Van Halens 'JUMP' which has led to my children cracking the Artex in the kitchen ceiling as they leap from the shower in the room above bellowing 'might as well JUMP!!' every night before bed.

I finally bit the bullet last week and ordered a proper piano from Bonners. It comes this week. I am hoping that my wife will allow it to live in the house with the nice furniture. Also that all of the D keys work on it.
Thankyou for all your comments and encouragement.
Best comment will receive one of my original blog doodles and a short poem on the subject of your choice.