June 22nd, 2008
Doing Something About It

Lessons Learned From a Wiring Harness

"Trailer Tow Package: $600." A line-item on an invoice never looked more innocent. Or proved more elusive.

We’d been a one-vehicle family for about a year, and that one vehicle was a pickup truck that offered super-close quarters for a family of five. We’d gotten used to the running inside jokes– cliched phrases like “stuffed like sardines” rolled easily off everyone’s tongues– and we’d actually learned some significant lessons about cooperating and coexisting in that cramped cab.

Once we decided that we’d embark on a cross-country camping trip, though, we knew that we’d need a new vehicle with enough room to comfortably carry the five of us on a three-week journey. So, we search, study, and select a suitable minivan. Since minivans normally don’t come equipped for towing, we select the optional towing package from the list of add-ons. And, we make an appointment with the dealership to have the towing equipment installed.

Then the fun begins.

A call from the auto dealership. “The wiring harness for your van’s towing package isn’t available.” (The wiring harness is the gadget that connects the car’s wiring to the trailer’s wiring, so that things like brakelights and turn signals will function. Without that plug-in gadget, making those wiring connections involves lots of slicing, splicing, and warranty-voiding.) “We don’t know when we’ll be able to get it.”

Not available?

Two obvious questions come to our minds. The first is: Why is there a $600 line item on our vehicle invoice for a non-existent item? The second, and more pressing, question is: How, then, shall we pull a camping trailer from Arkansas to South Dakota and points beyond?

Turns out that “not available” is a bit of an exaggeration– but only a bit. “Not available yet” is the real story. Seems that significant changes to the construction of the current model-year version of our vehicle rendered the existing wiring harness obselete. (I won’t pretend to know any more of the technical details than that.) Why such a snag slipped under the manufacturers’ radar is a mystery, but there it is. Nothing we can do now, except wait.

Wait for the problem to be fixed. Wait for the new-and-improved version of our wiring harness to become ready for shipment.

Wait.

February. March. April.

Two months until we hit the road.

Will we hit the road?

“Not available yet.” The story doesn’t change. Patience begins its slow metamorphosis into panic. Nothing we can do, except wait.

That’s my take, anyway. Thankfully, my wife Ruth has a different perspective.

She starts researching. Calling. Emailing. Yes, even pestering. Every manufacturer or reseller of consumer automobile towing equipment is on her list. “Do you have it?” “When will you have it?” “Why don’t you have it? What are you doing about it?” She’s not panicked; there’s no edge of urgency to her actions and queries. She’s as patient as she knows how to be– but she’s not passive. She acts, she pushes, she prompts.

And, ultimately, she prevails. The elusive, updated wiring harness is tracked down at last, and– just in time for final camping-trip preparations and practice runs– our real-life minivan finally matches the one that was so innocuously described on the dealer’s invoice. Trailer Tow Package: $600.

“Patience is a virtue”?

“Patience is a virtue”?” Yes, that one’s true. But: “Good things come to those who wait”? Don’t fall for that one. Not if the good things you’re waiting for are truly indispensible and irreplaceable. Precious, unique family memories and experiences– like the ones we plan & hope to have this summer– qualify for that label, don’t they?

Do something about it.

VnEUZpPxzi6G"Trailer Tow Package: $600." A line-item on an invoice never looked more innocent. Or proved more elusive.

We’d been a one-vehicle family for about a year, and that one vehicle was a pickup truck that offered super-close quarters for a family of five. We’d gotten used to the running inside jokes– cliched phrases like “stuffed like sardines” rolled easily off everyone’s tongues– and we’d actually learned some significant lessons about cooperating and coexisting in that cramped cab.

Once we decided that we’d embark on a cross-country camping trip, though, we knew that we’d need a new vehicle with enough room to comfortably carry the five of us on a three-week journey. So, we search, study, and select a suitable minivan. Since minivans normally don’t come equipped for towing, we select the optional towing package from the list of add-ons. And, we make an appointment with the dealership to have the towing equipment installed.

Then the fun begins.

A call from the auto dealership. “The wiring harness for your van’s towing package isn’t available.” (The wiring harness is the gadget that connects the car’s wiring to the trailer’s wiring, so that things like brakelights and turn signals will function. Without that plug-in gadget, making those wiring connections involves lots of slicing, splicing, and warranty-voiding.) “We don’t know when we’ll be able to get it.”

Not available?

Two obvious questions come to our minds. The first is: Why is there a $600 line item on our vehicle invoice for a non-existent item? The second, and more pressing, question is: How, then, shall we pull a camping trailer from Arkansas to South Dakota and points beyond?

Turns out that “not available” is a bit of an exaggeration– but only a bit. “Not available yet” is the real story. Seems that significant changes to the construction of the current model-year version of our vehicle rendered the existing wiring harness obselete. (I won’t pretend to know any more of the technical details than that.) Why such a snag slipped under the manufacturers’ radar is a mystery, but there it is. Nothing we can do now, except wait.

Wait for the problem to be fixed. Wait for the new-and-improved version of our wiring harness to become ready for shipment.

Wait.

February. March. April.

Two months until we hit the road.

Will we hit the road?

“Not available yet.” The story doesn’t change. Patience begins its slow metamorphosis into panic. Nothing we can do, except wait.

That’s my take, anyway. Thankfully, my wife Ruth has a different perspective.

She starts researching. Calling. Emailing. Yes, even pestering. Every manufacturer or reseller of consumer automobile towing equipment is on her list. “Do you have it?” “When will you have it?” “Why don’t you have it? What are you doing about it?” She’s not panicked; there’s no edge of urgency to her actions and queries. She’s as patient as she knows how to be– but she’s not passive. She acts, she pushes, she prompts.

And, ultimately, she prevails. The elusive, updated wiring harness is tracked down at last, and– just in time for final camping-trip preparations and practice runs– our real-life minivan finally matches the one that was so innocuously described on the dealer’s invoice. Trailer Tow Package: $600.

“Patience is a virtue”?

“Patience is a virtue”?” Yes, that one’s true. But: “Good things come to those who wait”? Don’t fall for that one. Not if the good things you’re waiting for are truly indispensible and irreplaceable. Precious, unique family memories and experiences– like the ones we plan & hope to have this summer– qualify for that label, don’t they?

Do something about it.

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