A Head Full of Ideas that were Driving Me Insane....

A helpful guide to the polluters of the planet who live in the Empire State, on what will be expected of you if your 1996-or-newer car is beset by problems turning on your "check engine light."

You may have read something with a simple declaration: "if the light is on, you fail your annual state inspection." True enough. However, as you learned back in syllogism school, the inverse of this statement- "if the light is not on, you do not fail"- is not necessarily true. Yea, people have found all sorts of cute ways to clear an offending code, including disconnecting the battery and bribing helpful Auto Zone employees. So to keep the game afoot, the manufacturers and DMV actually require that the monitors reset themselves to "ready" after the light itself has gone out.

Thus did I learn yesterday, as I deposited another $200 in the Cleveland Drive Boat Payment Fund to fix the AC again (more about that later), that the shop's over-the-weekend repair of the emissions system hadn't quite registered with the onboard system yet. Here, straight from the DMV's mouf, is what you must do to get the monitors to reset to "ready":


l. As soon as the engine starts, idle the engine in drive for two and one-half minutes, with the air conditioning (A/C) and rear defrost turned on, if equipped.

2. Turn the A/C and rear defrost off, and accelerate to 55 mph under moderate, constant acceleration. Hold at a steady speed of 55 mph for three minutes.

3. Decelerate (coast down) to 20 mph without braking (or depressing the clutch for manual transmissions).

4. Accelerate again back to 55 to 60 mph.

5. Hold at a steady speed of 55 to 60 mph for five minutes. Decelerate (coast down) to a stop without braking.

Now, the reality of what that means.

1. Realize there is no way in hell you're gonna go from step 1 to 2 anywhere other than just off the 90, so leave plenty early, planning on consuming a Timmy Ho's mocha in the Walker Center car park while the engine cools back down to a cold state.

2. View drivethrough line at said Tim Horton's which, as it always is 24/7/365, is longer than Methuselah's funeral procession. I swear they're dealing drugs out of that pick-up window, cause it is always, and I mean ALWAYS, full of cars.

3. Regroup, heading over to the two-block-away Mickey D's for coffee and return for cooling of car.

4. Watch as oncoming traffic on Main Street before the 290/90 onramp builds to a veritable swap meet of SUV'S.

5. Barge past several of same and onto on-ramp, fighting the westbound salmon stream to get to the Albany side knowing full well the "moderate, constant acceleration" is as likely to occur as a Brink's truck is likely to stall in front of me, spilling packets of $100 bills everywhere.

6. Nonetheless, get to 55 in a relatively steady pace, EZPass lane and all. Cue "Supper's Ready" and reset clock to "time of track" function to keep track of the intervals.

7. Discover that going 55 on the 90 between 50 and 49 is the functional equivalent of a suicide note.

8. Put flashers on.

9. Notice that nobody notices flashers.

10. Pray that the three-minute interval at cruising speed will clear the exit and oncoming traffic from the Transit onramp. Succeed in prayer, for once, as deceleration to 20 is on a surprisingly abandoned stretch of Thruway. Turn flashers off, in bold move of derring-do.

11. Reset Genesis to 0:00 and accelerate to 60, still a dangerously slow speed out there.

12. Begin deceleration on shoulder, flashers again turned on, just past the Cintas building. Marvel at how fucking long it takes for a little car to come to a complete stop, despite no acceleration, no downhills and the affirmative braking effect of those keep-you-awake rumble strip thingies.

13. Hope no trucks are coming out of the maintenance garage just before the Ransom Road bridge.

14. Drive so close to pillars of Ransom Road bridge, electrons are actually exchanged.

15. Attract attention of cop, who proceeds to pull behind me, roof rack on, and essentially scotching the whole experiment just as the car was finally down to about 3 mph or so.

16. Apologize for wasting his time, showing him the brochure I'd been following to the letter and praying he wouldn't notice this part which I conveniently omitted earlier: "IMPORTANT: If you choose to use the generic drive cycle below, you must obey all traffic laws and drive in a safe manner."

17. Cause moderate amusement for man in the Smokey hat, waving as he passes me. Resume normal insane highway speed.

18. [and quite a bit later under entering-secure-public-building circumstances]: Realize you have no effing idea where, exactly, your drivers license is. You know, the one you keep in the car in case you forget the OTHER only-acceptable-ID for getting past court metal detectors (as you do at least once a month). Thank gods the cop didn't ask for it, whether on general principles or to amuse his buddies at the cophouse with the name and street address of the geeky asshole he caught earlier.

So. How was YOUR day?

After all that, I won a motion I was shocked to win, got payments from two people who I'd have expected to die first (and leave me nothing in their wills), and generally had as non-sucky a day you could have after that kind of start. (Even found the license, eventually- in the car the whole time, of course.) Well, except for realizing that yesterday's A/C repair did absoluckingfutely nothing to make cool air come out of the dashboard, and that I'm looking at either two months of blowing-steam on me or close to a grand for the Full Monty repair of that system. But the check engine light did not come back on, and come hell or high water that thing's gonna have its newest, and possibly last, inspection sticker on its fat little face by this time tomorrow.