LOF. That is the parlance used by auto mechanics in America when you take your car in for an oil change. Lube refers to the bygone era when a bunch of mechanical moving parts in your conveyance needed lubing as in lubricating. Grease and waxes and what not. Nowadays not so much. Everything is enclosed and hermetically sealed from the elements. But this old phraseology remains with us in the days of electric mobility.
As far as oil is concerned that is the one that needs replacing every 7,000 miles or so. Esp for a petrol powered automobile that most Americans use. That is a lot of distance to travel in many countries. But for an average bay area commuter like me it means 100 round trips to work, which could translate into 3 months of time. So net every three months I am faced with the prospect of getting this vital fluid swapped. From the engine. Of my trusty conveyance that transports me effortlessly to work and back. Daily.
Now lastly we come to the filter. A metal mesh device designed to trap fine particulates from entering the delicate workings of an internal combustion engine. It filters out impurities occuring in the wide variety of gasoline (petrol in non American terms) and above referenced engine oil that we put in our cars. Much like a kidney or liver does with what we put into our own tanks. Thankfully the latter does not need a three month replacement. Whew!
Back to LOF service. Most auto shops and I have been to a few over the years of car ownership are a dismal affair. Ideally you do not want to go anywhere near it. Brand service stations or a run of the mill outfit in a seedy strip mall, they all have the tendency to make you wait for indeterminate amount of time whether you reserve a place or drop in. As to the actual service I always leave with a feeling of not knowing what exactly they did. You pull up. They write you up - reams of paper for what is a simple Oil and Filter change - tree huggers cringe. Sign few times (not sure what I am signing) and the vehicle disappears. Not before they tag it and put papers on the floor to show how clean their operation is.
Then after a few hours (feels like days) you stop by the lackluster lady cashier (your actual service rep has long disappeared after promising to ring you when service is done) who looks at you like you landed from some other galaxy. Who are you? What do you want? Let me see your paperwork. They actually refer to it as paperwork. Handing over the thick booklet to her I cringe again. It takes her a good minute to figure out what to do with me. Then she pages some unknown department for a code blue call back over their unusually loud speakers. Then some weird looking dude (who perhaps was in another town when he heard the page in the sky) in coveralls ambles up and stares at the both of us. Mumbles and walks away. It will be another 15 minutes, she confirms. You hope. You pull out all of your prayer books and setup shop. You need your car. After 30 more minutes you walk back to the dazed cashier. What is it she chides? You explain and then she says "you are ready. It will be $100 with taxes". You have to have a sense of humor about this episode else you will die of stress. LOF - LOL!
As far as oil is concerned that is the one that needs replacing every 7,000 miles or so. Esp for a petrol powered automobile that most Americans use. That is a lot of distance to travel in many countries. But for an average bay area commuter like me it means 100 round trips to work, which could translate into 3 months of time. So net every three months I am faced with the prospect of getting this vital fluid swapped. From the engine. Of my trusty conveyance that transports me effortlessly to work and back. Daily.
Now lastly we come to the filter. A metal mesh device designed to trap fine particulates from entering the delicate workings of an internal combustion engine. It filters out impurities occuring in the wide variety of gasoline (petrol in non American terms) and above referenced engine oil that we put in our cars. Much like a kidney or liver does with what we put into our own tanks. Thankfully the latter does not need a three month replacement. Whew!
Back to LOF service. Most auto shops and I have been to a few over the years of car ownership are a dismal affair. Ideally you do not want to go anywhere near it. Brand service stations or a run of the mill outfit in a seedy strip mall, they all have the tendency to make you wait for indeterminate amount of time whether you reserve a place or drop in. As to the actual service I always leave with a feeling of not knowing what exactly they did. You pull up. They write you up - reams of paper for what is a simple Oil and Filter change - tree huggers cringe. Sign few times (not sure what I am signing) and the vehicle disappears. Not before they tag it and put papers on the floor to show how clean their operation is.
Then after a few hours (feels like days) you stop by the lackluster lady cashier (your actual service rep has long disappeared after promising to ring you when service is done) who looks at you like you landed from some other galaxy. Who are you? What do you want? Let me see your paperwork. They actually refer to it as paperwork. Handing over the thick booklet to her I cringe again. It takes her a good minute to figure out what to do with me. Then she pages some unknown department for a code blue call back over their unusually loud speakers. Then some weird looking dude (who perhaps was in another town when he heard the page in the sky) in coveralls ambles up and stares at the both of us. Mumbles and walks away. It will be another 15 minutes, she confirms. You hope. You pull out all of your prayer books and setup shop. You need your car. After 30 more minutes you walk back to the dazed cashier. What is it she chides? You explain and then she says "you are ready. It will be $100 with taxes". You have to have a sense of humor about this episode else you will die of stress. LOF - LOL!
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