good deed indeed!

I'm quite pleased with myself today about helping my dad out with one of the worst chores you could give him.

My dad hates cars, but he has two. He's quite diligent with the preventive upkeep of the Altis that he drives. But since my sister, who uses his '94 Corolla doesn't have enough street sense to take care of maintenance herself, he does that as well. He's been racking his head for weeks on what to do about the malfunction indicator light, well, indicating that the car will conk out anytime, but without further explanation.

The internet is a very good thing. He was able to read up on the topic of possible quick fixes (which he didn't want to try on his own), emission theories, and the accurate way to diagnose the problem (which is usually expensive, through the casa). Thanks to my job, I also have better faith in my research abilities and the resources available online. So while he did some guesswork with the neighborhood gas station mechanic, I was able to find a local automotive shop on the web that had the equipment needed to diagnose our car. (It's called an automotive scanner.)

At first, dad's calls to the published telephone numbers went unanswered. He left a message but no return call. Yesterday, I went back to the website and left a note on their guestbook, and sent the same message via e-mail. Early this morning, they sent a reply asking for a landline, so I asked them to call my dad at home. And my dad just texted that he already received a call, saying that they will set up the machine in Visayas Avenue to service us!

I guess what's really satisfying is making his chores easier. Like, I hope he's really happy about this. Most of you know that my dad's got MAJOR issues about happiness and what he wants and being laid back and all that crap. He mans the house, the cars, the utilities, the banking. And while he's a royal pain when he gets into one of his moods (and it's not seldom), he still actually worries a lot about the family and sacrifices much to keep us comfortable. And I don't mean eat-3-meals-a-day comfy. I mean, eat-out-4x-a-week, loan-you-shopping-money, never-ride-a-trike, drive-you-to-the-MRT-station/modista kind of CUSHY. (Yeah, so this means WE are the cause of his uptight-ness, mostly, but try to stop him. He won't.)

So there. I hope the appointment with the mechanic all works out.