I can’t tell you why it happens - only that it happens.

Somebody, some agency, some supernatural force, a poltergeist, or perhaps some of my very angry dead relatives is really having a chuckle at my expense.

When I started driving, I noticed a pattern.  Certain parts of the car would go, as it were.  I think it started with tires.  I could have more flats than a grunge band.  It promptly proceeded to radiators.  I’d be minding my own business and then BOING, the radiator would spring a leak, if not a full blown river.  The exhaust system wasn’t far behind (is that a pun?); they had more holes than Internet Explorer.

Oddly enough, I always replaced the stock stereo with something aftermarket, and this went flawlessly (after the twelve hour installation ordeal).  Since I always had humongous land yachts, there was always plenty of room to move about.  A few of those cars could hide a small family under the dash.

Later on, as I could afford better transportation, fewer things broke.  Well, fewer parts that came with the car.  Aftermarket electronics, however, were a different story entirely.

For some reason that I cannot possibly fathom, things started going horribly wrong.  Cassettes would randomly unspool.  Several cars had antennas but they never seemed to work.  They definitely connected to the radio, but I could never receive anything to my satisfaction.  Invisible antennas?  I dunno - I could see them.

Since radio has sucked eggs for a minimum of ten or twenty years, this wasn’t such a big deal.  It was a bit disconcerting to not be able to receive the really strong AM stations, but I was willing to brave this for the additional functionality of the units.  I bought a portable cd player and an adaptor for the cassette player.  I was in CD heaven.  For at least a week or two.

Then the CD player would eat its batteries.  So I purchased a power adaptor for the lighter, which certainly wasn’t busy lighting cigarettes.  It proved a good move and served me well… but then the cassette adaptor wires started to fray.  I can solder like mad but things were breaking way too fast.   And I couldn’t listen to the radio because of the visible but not functional antenna.

It took a while to get a better unit.  I dumped the CD player and discovered I could use my cell phone (a Treo) to play mp3’s and whatever else I liked through the cassette adaptor and into the stereo.  I could finally listen to exactly what I wanted to, provided I remembered to put it on the phone’s SD card.  This turned out to be a battle when I dropped Windows for linux.  One particular card reader ate four gigs of data I had on the SD card and I couldn’t get anything back with all sorts of professional recovery utilities and several hours.

Finally I purchased an AM-FM radio/CD player.  I specifically bought it because it had an AUX IN jack so I could plug the Treo into it without any adapters.  The CD player played mp3’s too, so I could make CDs with tons of songs on them OR listen to the Treo tunes.  I felt like a king.  This bugger had a removable faceplate and a remote control!

A remote control?  In a car stereo?  WTF would I need that for?   I know… instead of grabbing a knob on the stereo, I could feel around madly for the remote, then look down to figure out which button did what.  Yes, it truly was the perfect system.

Of course the Treo has a very tiny three conductor jack.  It’s a nice jack but not made for actually plugging anything into.  It lasted about a year, at which point they gave me a new one because the jack got so loose internally that it would make horrible banging noises when the car was in motion.  So I needed an adaptor to get to the cable that ran into the AUX input.  I frequently left that adaptor places.  If I knew where it was, it was always in the wrong car.  Even when I had two adapters, they were never in the car in which they were needed.

Then I needed a Treo power adaptor because it would run out of power while I was listening to music or podcasts.  Eventually I needed a splitter for my cigarette lighter jack so I could power two devices (whatever they were at the moment).

Then one day the lovely Sony receiver’s AUX IN stopped.  I could still plug it in but nothing I did would allow it to pass sound.  It was almost like it forgot it had an AUX IN.  This was most disappointing.  And when I say disappointing, everyone within a two block radius could hear me screaming at the thing with all the windows closed and the airconditioner on full blast.

I sent Sony a note, asking what the most likely cause for this was.  Since the thing was solidly attached to the dashboard, there was no way it was coming out.  I told them I could solder and poke around inside if they could give me some places to look.  I promptly received Sony’s response: yes indeed, that thing was broken.  I should remove it from the dash and send it round their service place and they’d have a look.  Hopefully it would be under warranty.

Gee thanks, Sony.   That was very helpful.  And it didn’t address a single point I made.  So I attempted to take apart the faceplate.  Only I couldn’t get it apart.  I found a bunch of tiny screws (plastic screws, mind you) and removed them, but it still wouldn’t give up the goods.  As an aside, banging the faceplate repeatedly on the dash didn’t help.  Nor on the concrete curb.

After I put the faceplate back, all sorts of new problems popped up.  It was inevitable, wasn’t it?  CDs stopped registering.  If I put one hundred songs on a disk, the player would only find twenty.  Some discs wouldn’t play at all, even if they played on the computer and every other player.

Lacking the funds for another player and dreading getting out the heavy welding equipment to install it, I needed an alternative, lest I listen to the lovely sound of static coming from a receiver with a phantom antenna hooked to it.  Some nice fellow donated one of those Belkin iPod transmitters to the cause, warning me that it rather liked its batteries.

FM transmitters have a bit of a reputation, well-deserved, for not working particularly well.  This one sounded decent and performed admirably, provided it was oriented in the correct position.  Unfortunately no one really knows what the correct position is.  Sometimes it required being held upside down and at a forty-five degree angle to the stereo (which was a real bitch while driving).

At this point there’s the Treo, complete with a cigarette lighter power adaptor, with the transmitter plugged into it, both sitting in the drink tray and doing their level best to leap out onto the floor of the car whenever my hand wasn’t holding them down.   Great - suicidal auto audio devices.  Now I wasn’t the only occupant of the car who required intensive therapy.

The batteries, as I was warned, lasted about three days for the pair of triple A’s.  I could spend more on batteries than a new stereo in no time.  Not having that cash either, I decided to tackle the power problem a different way.  There was a power jack on the Belkin.  It was a very odd-looking power jack, which is even more odd because I thought I had seen every power jack known to man.  I even attempted to fit every plug known to man into the power jack, to no avail.

When brute force fails, try the internet.

I found the email address for Belkin support.  They got back to me eventually, assuring me they had no idea what size the jack was.  Why would they know - they are only the manufacturer.  I hacked my way into their support phone system and eventually got someone who did a fair impersonation of human.  She really didn’t want to deal with me, which I figured out by her answer.  It was a 1/4″ jack (no it wasn’t).  Ok, it was a 3.5 jack (no, it was too big).  Well then it must be a 2.5.   Yeah, ok.  She told me she’d find out and call me back.

Like that would happen.

My wife probably got tired of hearing me screaming at the system (from several blocks away) so she bought me some rechargeable triple A’s.  Get this - they were already charged in the package!

I put the batteries in the Belkin and was treated to Audio Bliss.  I got to listen to podcasts and mp3’s while I drove to and from work.  I was damn near happy.   So you know there is no possible way that could last.

On day three of the batteries, I drove around the corner on the way to work and the Belkin just stopped.  No warning, no beeping, not even a fart noise or two.  It just stopped.  And it refused to power back up.  Naturally it was the batteries.

At about this point the yelling started.  You probably heard some of it around seven thirty this morning.  With the car windows shut.

With nothing left but odd snippets of radio, I put the Treo on and up.  I remembered that I could get it just loud enough to hear above the ambient car noise.  This was a three second operation.  Well, a three second operation for most other humans who aren’t me.  I manged to change the balance, alter the playback speed, crank up the treble, but not make the volume go to where it belonged.

While attempting to either raise the volume or strangle the Treo, I managed to succeed in only keeping the car under control.  Apparently this was going to be even more difficult, as the car was standing still.

About ten minutes later I had the volume at an audible level, the car moving at a legal rate, and a very small amount of my voice left after cursing for a solid mile.

But listen to that audio!