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Stacey Cornelius
I'm a raving idealist, idea junkie, and creative entrepreneur with a Fine Art degree. I have professional experience in retail, theatre, and the IT industry. I'm here to show you how to make marketing part of your creative process. Contact Me

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A cautionary tale of DIY car repairs and instant karma

January 18, 2010

Do you ever have those days? You know, the kind where you feel like your head will implode if you utter another word about business?

Okay, maybe it’s just me.

We’re not talking much about marketing today. There’s a moral to the story that follows, so if you only have time for that, skip to the end. But you’ll miss the entertainment, which mostly involves laughing at the misadventures of yours truly.

This is how it goes:

I’m a pretty good driver, but sometimes circumstances conspire to put the best of us in situations that make us wish we’d stayed in bed that day.

Long story short: I was in a parkade notorious for tight corners and difficult navigation, and I managed to clip the passenger side mirror when I got too close to a concrete pillar.

I calculated the repair cost as I made my mortified way to the service department of our local car dealer. Then I had an idea. Instead of going to the service desk, I strolled up to the parts counter and asked for a mirror. The guy looked skeptical, but came back with a box.

I gave the assembly a quick once-over and shrugged. “It’s a mirror. It’s not a big deal.”

He took my money with a “Yeah, sure, lady, good luck with that,” expression.

Which meant that not only did I have something to fix, I had something to prove. Jerk.

One of the joys of the internet is the abundance of DIY information. Google the make of your car and the required repair job, and voilà—you have your instructions.

It really wasn’t that difficult, and I was feeling mighty relieved at how quickly I was able to put a side mirror on my car and corresponding bandage on my badly bruised ego.

Inordinately pleased with myself, I commenced an early celebration. Out loud, I declared, ”I rock.”

You know that scene in Lord of the Rings where they’re in the Mines of Moria and Pippin knocks the dead orc down the mine shaft, and the sound echoes for what seems like an eternity? It’s remarkably similar to the sound of a bolt as it falls inside the door assembly of your nearly-repaired vehicle.

I’ll spare you the words that followed.

Doubly offended, I considered my options: automotive fasteners are not available at the local hardware store. There was no way in hell I was going back to our car dealer, just in case the same guy was at the parts desk. There was another dealer, but I’d either have to explain what happened, or cook up a really good story that they probably wouldn’t believe anyway.

Not going to happen.

Back to Google, to figure out how to take the door apart. The only trouble I had was with the window crank, because the instructions I found weren’t doing the job. Fortunately, my father’s good with cars, and he gave me a tip on how to take the crank apart.

It took a while to find the bolt, and a while longer to extract it from the tiny crevice where it had become lodged. But I got it, and decided to feel grateful rather than triumphant. I reassembled the door (turns out brute force rather than finesse got the damnable window crank back together), and very carefully installed the new side mirror.

You’d never know it wasn’t the original.

And so, dear friends, here are the lessons learned: never get cocky about a DIY repair job. At least, not until it’s done, you’re certain you don’t have any mysterious parts left over, and you’re absolutely sure it won’t fall apart if you look at the thing sideways.

As far as business and marketing go, don’t be afraid to be a real person with your customers. And don’t get cocky with your marketing, either.

Over to you: any instant karma stories to share? What do you do when you get tired of talking about business?

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Comments (15)

Stacey,

I’d laugh at your story, but I’m very, very afraid of what would happen to me if I did!

Thanks for the cautionary tale (and the smile).

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Stacey Cornelius Reply:

Yes, well, I suspect the Fates did enough laughing for everyone. Glad you enjoyed it.

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[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Eugen Oprea, Stacey Cornelius. Stacey Cornelius said: [new blog post] A tale of instant karma: http://bit.ly/7LAHuF [...]

Stacey, I think it’s all about trial and error.

No one will never know if she is able/not able to do something until she will try it.

It’s how business works,. When you create your own company if you are lucky, informed and hardworking you may succeed. Otherwise you will fail and start over again in your effort to succeed.

It’s how marketing works, you may hear an idea that works for someone, but you will never know if it works for you if you don’t try it.

[Reply]

Stacey Cornelius Reply:

Agreed, Eugen. Errors are a good thing – they help us learn.

[Reply]

Not laughing at you, Stacey, been there too many times to count.

My best story is the time I decided I could fix my camera’s film magazine. After all, it’s not rocket science. Right? It’s still in pieces, I bought a new one. Or matt cutting. It can’t be that hard, can it? Ha! I now pay someone else to cut matts.

Glad you got the door fixed without having to go back to the jerk at the store.

[Reply]

Stacey Cornelius Reply:

Oh, matt cutting. I could never get them started properly and the corners were never square. I have the same problem with baseboard, but that’s a story for another time – and another blog.

[Reply]

I love your tenacity…

[Reply]

Stacey Cornelius Reply:

Kathy, there’s nothing like wounded pride to give you a good motivational boost. If you’re me, anyway.

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Every time I get cocky (and cocky is always the word I use) I mess up, too. Like the time I was laying a stone path by my former pond. Nowhere near finished but very impressed with my handiwork, I was in the midst of congratulating myself on how terrific I was when I dropped a HUGE stone on my finger. Similar stories abound so I have taught myself to wait until the job is finished before I give myself a pat on the back. (Hey, the night I broke my shoulder skating was no different. One minute I was impressed with my skill on the ice, the next I was flying through the air.)

[Reply]

Stacey Cornelius Reply:

Lynn, I wince in sympathy. I also had a rock versus finger incident – it took months for it to fully heal.

[Reply]

I think it’s mighty that you took on the car repair yourself. I’m confused as to why your ego was even wounded in the first place. Unless it’s like how I feel when I try sewing, expecting it to go smoothly when it doesn’t? That hurts my ego.

[Reply]

Stacey Cornelius Reply:

Well, there was the embarrassment of clipping the mirror in the first place. Things kind of went downhill from there. But yes, it’s the same thing as you wrestling with the Beast.

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[...] event, don’t be surprised if you find me in the kitchen, talking about Bugs Bunny cartoons or car repairs with one of the catering guys. Working the room? Not likely. I’m the type who likes to have [...]

[...] Taking theory into practice requires a master translator Yes, I know. This all looks very good in writing, and it seems simple to avoid these painfully obvious problems. But we’re complex creatures—ingenious, creative, resourceful, but when you translate theory into practice, we often discover we’re really not that bright. [...]

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