Wednesday, October 03, 2007 Horn purgatory By Rene Lizada Papa's table
OUR car horn has gone to car horn purgatory. Not heaven but purgatory because it still manages to squeak once in a while. It sounds like a person who has hoarse voice that ultimately leads to shrillness.
I noticed the malnourished sound a few weeks ago. And being the mechanical genius that I am, I attributed the sound to the battery. I thought in my mind that the cause was a weak battery not knowing that the real cause was weak knowledge on car horns and batteries. The hoarse horn soon became a butt of jokes in our family because my family has a weird sense of humor.
When I fetched Raphael late one evening, I honked twice. The sound was feeble and barely audible. So I tried again this time while pushing the gas pedal in the hope that the gas would rev up the battery and in some way make the horn sound like when it saw or in this case, heard better days. No such luck. The horn was like a sheep with asthma.
But I tried it again anyway but still it sounded asthmatic. Then Raphael came in and without any introductions said, "Pa, favor daw beh. Wag ka na mag sirbato kasi makahiya talaga yang sound ng horn natin." Baaaaaaaaa! So I kept my mouth shut and did not say anything anymore because as Mark Twain said, "if you have nothing to say, say nothing."
With Chona there was no problem because when she is done with work she usually calls me and she waits for me and thus I do not have to honk that blasted shameful horn.
That is partially true with Gabo. Gabo is the reason we go home late because he has basketball practice. And as all parents of athletes know we have to wait come rain or shine. Horn or no horn. As I was saying Gabo is a little different. When we get to Gate 4 or 5 or 6 (I honestly do not know!) I honk.
There are good days and there are bad days. A good day is when I get a blast that reaches basketball court. A bad day is when the sound reaches the fence by the road. Then as we drive past, we hope that the practice ends early because these people are so passionate about basketball that they sometimes wait until it rains to go home.
Meanwhile, my wife and I who are starving already are starting to eat chicken skin that guarantees bad cholesterol.
When we get close to home, the problem again happens. Will the katulong hear the sound of the asthmatic horn? So as I approach the house I honk three or four times just to make sure. The problem is that if you honk successively, the succeeding honks just die and float to honk heaven. It is bad enough that you start out with weak honks but it gets pathetic when as you honk and honk, there is only air that comes out. There have been days when I have to step out of the car and buzz the helpers.
But I guess the katulong have adjusted because now they can differentiate a squeak from the horn. I just get vexed when it rains because they will not be able to hear and I have to step down. I swear the security guard near the house smiles when he sees me honking.
However there is a good sign to all this. (Ah, Rene, the impossible optimist!) The first good thing about it is I learned something about horns. When I brought the car to the shop and complained about the horn, the mechanic raised the trunk and looked at the two horns. (I did not know there were two!)
And he looked at one and said, " Sir pila na katuig ni?" I said I did not know. And he said " Dugay na kayo ni sir, guba na ni." As if I did not know! "Dapat sir, ilisdan na ni." I asked how much a pair (ahem!) of new horns would cost and he gave a price in which I almost lost my voice. I said, "mag syagit na lang ko, hoy daplin!") He laughed.
The other thing I learned was patience. I am very impatient when it comes to traffic jams. I hate it when vehicles stop in the middle of the road. I hate it when pedestrians cross anywhere. I have no time for motorcycles who zip past you and drivers who have no courtesy or plain common sense when it comes to driving. And in all those situations, I do one thing. I honk like mad and say a few chosen words.
But that is something I cannot do now. If I honked it would do no good. People instead might just laugh at me and my horn. So I keep my mouth shut and just fret and wait. And wait. And wait. Maybe having weak horns is sometimes good.
