Crapsman snow blowers; built to run on those warm, sunny days

Three years ago I purchased a snow blower. For legal purposes let’s call it a “Crapsman”, that way their real identity can be kept secret, and they won’t sue the pants off me for telling this story. The machine worked great at first, tearing through anything I threw at it; snow, ice, stray cats. Then come the second or third snowstorm, I pulled it out, started it up and was met with a deafening screech emanating from the pulley system. I think there are dog’s three counties away that are still barking.

I took it to the repair center, and after paying a significant amount to have it repaired (because it was one month out of warranty) I brought it home. There was still a bit of snow on the ground so I thought I would try it out. I started it up, used it for 15 minutes then the loud screech returned, redoubling its volume from before. It was so loud I actually panicked trying to make it stop. I fumbled and jerked on every switch and handle before it donned on me to just hit the off switch. I called the repair center and was informed that they ATTEMPTED to repair the problem, but because they were unsure of the cause, they could not guarantee a positive result. They said if I brought it in again they would be glad to look at it and see if they could do something else… at an additional fee of course.

After several phone calls, I refused to pay the organization (let’s call them “Rears”) any more money to NOT repair my snow blower, and wound up selling it in a garage sale for parts that summer. I swore off “Crapsman”, claiming I would never use their products again. Then this fall “Rears” had a great deal on snow blowers so, in the spirit of second chances, I thought I would give it another try. We brought our new “Crapsman” home, put it together, and started it up. It is a monster of a machine, worthy of battling winter avalanches in the Alps. It ran great on that balmy 60 degree day, but then the snow came.

I pumped the primer and pulled and pulled on the cord. I even hooked up the electric start, but try as I may it just wouldn’t go. I guess “Crapsman” has a temperature limit on their snow blowers. Anything under 40 degrees and it won’t run. I think they should note that in the owner’s manual. It would save folks all the trouble of actually trying to use in when it snows.

I called the “Rears” repair center to see when someone might be able to some out and fix it, but they told me I would have to bring it in to the repair center. The operator was snide, unwavering and was in no way interested in hearing about the fact that the machine was brand new. When I explained that it would take three men and a rhino to get it into a truck she told me she would be glad to send a repairman out to fix our BRAND NEW snow blower for a MINIMUM charge of $99.00.

So now I have yet another useless “Crapsman” snow blower sitting in my garage, this time with the plastic literally still on it. I’m not sure where I’m going with this story but I just couldn’t help but tell it. I figured it would be OK since I hid their identity and no one will ever know which company I am really talking about. I guess I’ll just end with the obligatory “Rears” sucks, and I’ll never buy “Crapsman” again.

Thanks for listening. I have thrown my soap box back into the garage next to my snow blower and I promise not to get it out again… until next time.

Stay warm, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and joyious reading!!!!

The things kids say… It’s all about the timing!

I was walking through the mall the other day, witness to the madness and mayhem modern day Christmas has become, and I was reminded of something my daughter did few years ago. We were in a department store filled shoulder to shoulder with people bumping kicking and biting to get their hands on the last Ginger Tooty doll or whatever was hot that year. My daughter and I were standing in line, waiting to pay for our gifts, and she looked up to see a seven foot tall monster of a nutcracker looming over us. The thing looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie. It had huge bulging eyes, its arms were outstretched like a zombie looking for its next brainy meal and its mouth was broken, leaving its jaw hanging at an odd unnatural angle.

I watched my daughter out of the corner of my eye, waiting for a reaction, but she just stared at it for a few minutes, then seemed to shrug it off when we made our way to the cashier. When we got to the counter, we were greeted by a very nice African American woman. She asked how we were and if we found everything we needed. I nodded and said we did, then she smiled and looked down at the innocent looking girl standing beside me. The cashier asked if she was having a good day, and without missing a beat my daughter responded.

“It’s OK, but that’s one scary cracker standing back there!”

The cashier looked as if she were trying to decide whether she should falling down laughing or be appalled. Thankfully she opted for the more humorous of the two choices. When I got my own laughter under control, I explained the confusion.

We left, and I spent the next hour trying to explain why it was inappropriate to call something (or someone) a cracker. She was three at the time, I’m sure she had no idea what I was talking about.

I hope this blog finds you all well. Remember the true meaning of Christmas, and treat your fellow man (or cracker) with all the love, generosity and kindness Jesus was born to share.

Merry Christmas and happy blogging.

“What’s better to build aggravation than more aggravation”

Have you ever noticed how anger and frustration sometimes seems to beget more anger and frustration? We had our first real snow of the season the other day and I threw up the garage door to pull out our brand new snow blower and go to work. When we bought it on that balmy 60 degree day, I put it together, gassed it up, and made sure it worked. It ran like a champ, heck I could have ridden the thing up and down the street like a Harley if I’d wanted to.

At the time we’d bought the thing on sale, it was a great deal. Now I know why. Apparently when the temperature dips below freezing, it won’t start. I pulled and pulled on the cord, pumping the primer and fiddling with the choke, but nothing short of a defibrillator was going to coax that thing to life.

Frustrated and angry, I threw open the rear door of my jeep to grab my tool bag. I should have walked into the garage to get what I needed out of the tool box, but my Jeep was closer and I just wanted to grab the closest thing I had at hand.

I reached in and tore out my tools. When I say tore, I mean that literally. The bag was caught on the seat cover and when I jerked it out, the seat cover tore open like Velcro. I tried to piece the fabric back together in some sort of wishful belief that it would mend itself back together, but needless to say it was no use.

Turning back to the snow blower, I went to work trying to find out why the little monster wouldn’t start. I removed one of the small bolts holding on the shroud, then to my surprise, discovered just how dangerous this little piece of equipment must be. The designers must have been terrified of this thing getting loose, for it was held on by no less than 14 of the little chrome plated bolts. I methodically removed each of the little buggers, but when I came to the last one there was another surprise waiting for me. Apparently this particular bolt was so intrical to the operation, they decided to have it torked down by superman. The might have even added a dab of superglue or a spot weld for good measure. I worked on that last blot until I had it sufficiently rounded off and stripped beyond recognition, then had no choice but to give up and replace every one of the 14 bolts I had just removed.

Sufficiently defeated, I rolled the snow blower back into the garage then walked into the house to warm up (or cool off) before breaking out my trusty snow shovel. On the way in I slapped the button to the garage door opener out of habit, and as soon as I did I remembered the back of my Jeep was still open.

I reached for the button again but it was too late. Everything moved in slow motion. As I reached up I could see the door coming down onto the edge of the window, which was of course, perfectly positioned to bind just below the bottom rail of the door.

With one last groan of the garage door opener, it shattered, spraying glass everywhere. All I could do was stand there spraying obscenities out into the snowy wonderland outside. Oh well, at least my snow shovel was good or picking up the broken glass.

So tell me about the last “Day” you have had. Make me feel better about mine LOL. Have a great day and happy blogging.