The Story Of Guitar Ted: Working For The Dark Side- Part 1

Welcome to a brand new series on G-Ted Productions! This series will jump off from the time where the "Race Against Death Tour" ended and will take you up to the beginnings of Trans Iowa in late 2004. This is an eight year period where my life was transformed. You could say it was metamorphosed from the old to something quite new. 

This won't have a lot of bicycle stuff in it at times, but it is all essential to the story of "Guitar Ted". This isn't about where the name came from. That's all here.  No, this is about the person. 

This week I start telling the story of my five and a half year stint as a car mechanic.......
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My days as a bicycle mechanic seemed to be behind me in February 1997 as I pulled up about ten minutes early in front of Schuerman's Auto Repair. This was an independently owned car repair shop which had been in business in one form or another, in various locations in Cedar Falls, Iowa, since 1946. The proprietor was Jim Schuerman, and Jim's father started the business after being discharged from the Marine Corps after his service during WWII. "Schuerman's", as it is known in the area, was and still is, a highly regarded repair shop. Jim ran a tight ship, worked harder than anyone I had ever met before then or since, and there was a very high expectation placed upon his employees to do the very best work possible in the shortest amount of time that was reasonable. In other words, you never were going to be found leaning at Schuerman's, not unless Jim was and he allowed you to. That was not very often!

I still wear my embroidered station jacket regularly.

Anyway, as I said earlier, I was not a car mechanic. I had no idea what to do and I had no tools to do any car repairs with that were worth using on a car. That turned out to be okay as I was paired up with Jim and was allowed usage of any of the tools he already had. And he had a LOT of tools! So, that was one burden off my back as auto mechanic tools cost thousands of dollars.

Jim and his crew showed up every day for work at about 7:00am on the dot. This was precisely when they opened. After noticing I was waiting for them for three days straight, Jim gave me the key to the business, told me what he expected done when they got there, and how and when to turn on everything. Wow! That was a lot of trust to put into a guy he didn't know, but again, Vance, the mechanic at Europa, may have put in a good word or two for me. Anyway, I felt a little more secure in the job, but my lack of knowledge still haunted me.

To make up for that I hustled, which seemed to amuse Jim and his coworkers a bit. I did everything as quick, and as well, as I could, and as time went by, I was learning new things and becoming more useful as the days went on. The days went on too. 10 hour days! Six days a week! I was wasted tired after every day. There was absolutely no time, and more importantly, no energy, left for riding a bicycle. In fact, I recall coming home, locking the door behind me, laying down on the floor, and sleeping for hours before getting up finally and going upstairs to bed proper. That's what I call whooped!

A funny story happened within the first month of my time at Schuerman's. I was asked to come and help Eric, a tall, big man, built like a football player, like a lineman. He was lean, had hands twice the size of mine, and was a brash, funny, but gentle and kind guy. Anyway, he had me holding up this gas tank which had to be removed on a 1991 Honda Accord station wagon which had a bad fuel pump. The car was on a hoist, so this was all happening underneath the car. As the straps were loosened, the tank, which was full of gas, of course, came down on a post jack and I was there to steady it. Then Eric was reaching over the top of it to get some hoses off, but the tank was unstable. I managed to keep it up, but not without tilting it enough that I got doused with gasoline from head to toe. Eric roared with laughter, and Jim had me go get cleaned up as best as I could once the tank was down on the floor. I spent the rest of the day stinking to high heaven and burning a bit due to the gas on my skin. That was my baptism into the "dark side" of the world of car mechanics.

Next: Working For The Dark Side- Part 2