avalancher
Arboristsite Raconteur
I have always been a Husky man since I was I was big enough to keep both ends off the ground at the same time.Shoot, I was no bigger than a Chihuahua when I got my first saw, and it was a Husky.Now I'm giving serious consideration to dropping every single Husky I own in a chipper and pick up a Stihl after my latest trip down to our local dealership.
I needed a spark plug.No canoodle valves, muffler bearings, or anything complicated.I usually head on over to the next town to get my parts, but our local Western Auto is our dealer in town for Husky, and I avoid the place because all their parts are plated in platinum.At least, judging by their prices, they must be.
I sauntered in this afternoon and was greeted at the parts counter by a guy who looked like maybe he spent the majority of his earlier years eating paint chips.But, I figured if he worked there, he sure as shootin should be able to manage a spark plug.Wow was I wrong.
"Hi, I need a plug for a Husky 372"
Blank stare.....
Hmmm, okay." I need a SPARK PLUG for a 372"
Without a word he breaks out the book and starts thumbing through it.I kinda wondered why in the hell he had a computer on the counter, but maybe he just keeps it around to play tetris or something.I guess I was asking too much for him to grab the mouse and find my part the easy way.
"What kind of plug?"
"372"
"Don't even see that number....does it have a letter before the numbers?"
"That's not the number of the plug, that is the model number of the saw.A Husky 372.A Husqvarna 372"
"Do you need a resistor or non resistor?"
"Well, I don't play the radio on the saw much.The battery makes it really heavy, and i hate having to turn the dang thing up every time I gun it in the cut."
More blank stares......
An elderly gentlemen was sitting on the stool nearby, and with a grin he came over and took the book from the guy.He thumbed through it for a second, then asked me if it was a 372,372xp,372xpg, or a 372xpw.
Then it was my turn for a blank stare.What friggin difference does it make what kind of handle it has on it?And who the hell heard of a plain ole 372?Trying to keep my cool, I replied that it was a 372xp.
"What year?"
You have got to be kidding me.What friggin difference does it make what year?Husky hasn't changed much in that saw since 2000, and as far as I know they haven't changed what plug it uses.To make the gent get moving, I muttered a guess, "2008"
Finally the old gent got moving towards the back, and I began to breathe again.I sat for a bit, ate a sandwich I found in my jacket pocket, shaved twice, watched 91 reruns of "Friends" on the boob tube, and applied for social security while he was gone.I stood there so long my toe nails grew right out the end of my boots and latched on to a pile of brake drums laying on the floor.
Just as I was sure the old guy had either fallen asleep back there or died of rickets, he came shuffling back with a plug.He somehow looked a hell of a lot older by the time he made it back to the counter,but never the less he had a plug in his hand.
He rang me up,charged me $4.00 for the plug which convinced me he had it flown in from Paraguay and charged me the freight, and I made my way out to the truck.
I don't know why, but instinct told me to compare it to the old plug,and sure as shootin it wasnt even close.I think he gave me a plug for a diesel engine last used on the Titanic,but I'm not sure.Dragging the saw and the new plug with me, I went back into the store.
After I announced that I had the wrong plug, and I would really like a plug with the same number as the one in the saw, the old guy asked me why I didn't bring the saw in with me the first time and save him all the grief of looking it up.I really didn't have an answer to that,but I grit my teeth and managed a half smile and said, "Well, I reckon I ate too many paint chips as a kid, I just didn't think about that."
I finally got my plug, and made it home just in time to watch my daughter graduate from college.She was 13 when I left this morning.
I needed a spark plug.No canoodle valves, muffler bearings, or anything complicated.I usually head on over to the next town to get my parts, but our local Western Auto is our dealer in town for Husky, and I avoid the place because all their parts are plated in platinum.At least, judging by their prices, they must be.
I sauntered in this afternoon and was greeted at the parts counter by a guy who looked like maybe he spent the majority of his earlier years eating paint chips.But, I figured if he worked there, he sure as shootin should be able to manage a spark plug.Wow was I wrong.
"Hi, I need a plug for a Husky 372"
Blank stare.....
Hmmm, okay." I need a SPARK PLUG for a 372"
Without a word he breaks out the book and starts thumbing through it.I kinda wondered why in the hell he had a computer on the counter, but maybe he just keeps it around to play tetris or something.I guess I was asking too much for him to grab the mouse and find my part the easy way.
"What kind of plug?"
"372"
"Don't even see that number....does it have a letter before the numbers?"
"That's not the number of the plug, that is the model number of the saw.A Husky 372.A Husqvarna 372"
"Do you need a resistor or non resistor?"
"Well, I don't play the radio on the saw much.The battery makes it really heavy, and i hate having to turn the dang thing up every time I gun it in the cut."
More blank stares......
An elderly gentlemen was sitting on the stool nearby, and with a grin he came over and took the book from the guy.He thumbed through it for a second, then asked me if it was a 372,372xp,372xpg, or a 372xpw.
Then it was my turn for a blank stare.What friggin difference does it make what kind of handle it has on it?And who the hell heard of a plain ole 372?Trying to keep my cool, I replied that it was a 372xp.
"What year?"
You have got to be kidding me.What friggin difference does it make what year?Husky hasn't changed much in that saw since 2000, and as far as I know they haven't changed what plug it uses.To make the gent get moving, I muttered a guess, "2008"
Finally the old gent got moving towards the back, and I began to breathe again.I sat for a bit, ate a sandwich I found in my jacket pocket, shaved twice, watched 91 reruns of "Friends" on the boob tube, and applied for social security while he was gone.I stood there so long my toe nails grew right out the end of my boots and latched on to a pile of brake drums laying on the floor.
Just as I was sure the old guy had either fallen asleep back there or died of rickets, he came shuffling back with a plug.He somehow looked a hell of a lot older by the time he made it back to the counter,but never the less he had a plug in his hand.
He rang me up,charged me $4.00 for the plug which convinced me he had it flown in from Paraguay and charged me the freight, and I made my way out to the truck.
I don't know why, but instinct told me to compare it to the old plug,and sure as shootin it wasnt even close.I think he gave me a plug for a diesel engine last used on the Titanic,but I'm not sure.Dragging the saw and the new plug with me, I went back into the store.
After I announced that I had the wrong plug, and I would really like a plug with the same number as the one in the saw, the old guy asked me why I didn't bring the saw in with me the first time and save him all the grief of looking it up.I really didn't have an answer to that,but I grit my teeth and managed a half smile and said, "Well, I reckon I ate too many paint chips as a kid, I just didn't think about that."
I finally got my plug, and made it home just in time to watch my daughter graduate from college.She was 13 when I left this morning.
Al
