bad brakes

I replaced the brake master cylinder in the Jeep on our “fun day” this past weekend.

Saturday is the “fun day”.

Saturday is the day when potentially good things can happen.

Saturday is my day off.

Saturday morning, good things weren’t happening , so I told Jenny that I was going to replace the master cylinder on the Jeep, and, after getting my tools together and getting the new part that I’d squirreled away in the back room, went out to do the job.

I “bench bled” it….just like the instructions said….took off the old one ….installed the new one….went to test it…and, of course, didn’t have any pedal.

There must be air in the system.

So….I got my mason jar and clear plastic tubing contraption that I use to help bleed the brakes, got the big floor jack from storage, jacked up the car and removed the back wheel, got set up with the tubing and mason jar, put my wrench on the bleeder, turned it gently….and the rusty bleeder broke off.

&*!!!!@#!!!!*&!!!!!!*&*!!!!     (!)


So…I got in the minivan and drove to the parts store….and bought two new wheel cylinders.

That was the only way to fix it….and the old wheel cylinders were toast anyway.

They needed to be replaced a long time ago.

I may as well do the job right if I’m going to do it, RIGHT?

When I got home, I started to put the wheel cylinder on….and the nut on the hard line was frozen to the line…..rusted tight….so the only way….even after a lot of PB Blaster and intense concentration….to get it off was to tear up the line….twist the nut off and BREAK STUFF MORE!!!


So…it was back to the parts store to see if they could help me match up a piece of steel brake line that I could bend into shape and use to replace the broken one.

And….that’s what happened.

After a lot of trips back and forth to town…..I put the car back together….bled the brakes….got everything working again….put away my tools….and started trying to calm down.

It is ENERGIZING to have things not go well with CAR REPAIR.

Of course, it wasn’t pleasant that our “fun day” had turned to such complete crap….and the duration of the crappy day had extended on into the evening.

That didn’t endear me to everyone.

That’s a short version of a long story….it’s hard to condense 8 hours into a few paragraphs and do the PAIN justice.

But….the reason I mention it is that, in the midst of the grease and snapping rust, I actually thought……”Man, I must have screwed up BIG TIME for God to curse this day like this”.

Of course I screwed up. That’s irrelevant. I screw up. That’s what I do.

But….it sure didn’t take much to make me question something like that.

Rusted parts and gravel imprinted knees and a sore back and a whole lot of frantic driving….and I’m wondering why I’ve been forsaken?

What a weiner.

Read the story of Job again, Peter.

You’ve got a lot to learn.


(that’s not MY brake drum….it’s just a picture I found on the internet….)


“don’t wanna fight no more” Alabama Shakes




About Peter Rorvig

I'm a non-practicing artist, a mailman, a husband, a father...not listed in order of importance. I believe that things can always get better....and that things are usually better than we think.

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