{"id":13368,"date":"2024-01-30T10:33:10","date_gmt":"2024-01-30T16:33:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ericsiegmund.com\/fireant\/?p=13368"},"modified":"2024-01-30T10:34:10","modified_gmt":"2024-01-30T16:34:10","slug":"you-say-alternator-i-say-tomahto","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ericsiegmund.com\/fireant\/2024\/01\/30\/you-say-alternator-i-say-tomahto\/","title":{"rendered":"You Say Alternator, I Say Tomahto"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Hey, do y’all remember this post<\/a> about our family’s 1958 Ford? Of course you do; it was a masterpiece of storytelling, completely accurate in every exquisite detail and able to withstand the closest scrutiny of the most skeptical and informed reader.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unless you’re my Marshall, my better-looking, more-intelligent, but much, MUCH older cousin. (Thankfully, only one of you is, but one is plenty.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After reading my post, Marshall sent me the following message:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Loved your stories of adventures in the ’58 Ford, but you might want to check the ‘ol memory banks re: that incident on the road back from Oklahoma. Pretty sure the alternator didn’t replace generators on cars until the ’60 Chrysler Corp models. I remember our cousin Doodle Cole bought one of the first Plymouth (Valiant, if memory serves?) models with the innovative Slant 6 & the new-fangled source of electron juice. I do remember Dad being skeptical at first as some changes from the familiar didn’t always come easily.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I realize there’s quite a bit to unpack in that paragraph, most of which I may or may not get to somewhere down the road. I will stipulate for the record that Marshall’s lineage includes a master mechanic in the form of his dad\/my uncle, and while the mastery of all things related to the infernal combustion engine is not (AFAIK) hereditary, I have every reason to believe that my cousin knows his stuff when it comes to cars (and motorcycles…and woodworking…and short people who are quite excellent basketball players…and so on…).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I attempted to deflect his correction with this response:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will never question your superior mechanical knowledge, especially in this regard, as I couldn\u2019t explain the difference between an alternator and a generator in a car if my life depended on it. But I subscribe to the ancient Asian philosophy that a craftsman should never strive for perfection, and so leaving one flaw in every work is a sign of humility, and if there\u2019s anything I\u2019m proud of, it\u2019s my overwhelming humility.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I know that, being the alert Gazette reader you are, you’re quite familiar with the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi<\/a> (\u4f98\u5bc2), one tenet of which is that subtle imperfections enhance the beauty of the creation. Of course, my reference to this philosophy in my feeble justification was not at all<\/strong> what its practitioners envisioned, but it’s not the first time I’ve argued from a weak position, nor will it be the last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, a quick google confirmed Marshall’s assertion…Ford didn’t start spec’ing alternators until the early-to-mid Sixties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cousin Marshall’s eagle eye for detail, and subsequent issuance of a correction brought to mind that ridiculously cool scene in My Cousin Vinny<\/a><\/em> where the pulchritudinous and potty-mouthed Mona Lisa Vito was voir dire<\/em>‘d by Jim Trotter III, the district attorney. As you recall, Trotter was trying to disqualify Lisa as an expert witness on automobiles, and things went south for him very quickly. Here’s a clip to refresh your memory:<\/p>\n\n\n\n