On Tue, 25 Sep 2007 23:57:49 -0000, Tim wrote:

On Sep 25, 6:34 am, Short Wave Sportfishing
wrote:


As such, it is my role to provide quidance to the correct answer - not
provide it

Still waiting on the answer to tightening a loose battery cable to a
battery post with a sheet metal screw (maybe more than one.


But if more time is requied, then how about tightening a loose battery
cable end by cutting a shim out of sodie pop can, wrapping it tightly
around the battery post, then hammering the cable end down over the
wrapping to make a snug fit.


I know it's possible, 'cuz i seen it done before.

You have my permission. But first...
A Southern Illinois auto parts rebuilder named Tim moved to Vermont to
become a "Gentleman Farmer." He was just tired of oily parts, and
really enjoyed maple syrup, which was hard to find locally.
His farm in Vermont went fairly well, and his first tapping of maple
trees went well. His neighbor, an elderly farmer named Cobb, was
reticent, impossible to get to talking, but a nice enough feller.
A mule was part of the farm deal, and the transplanted Illini enjoyed
skinning it to pull boulders off some land where he wanted to plant
another stand of maples. He got real attached to the mule.
Winter came, and the mule got sick, with a runny nose and general
lethargy.
Before calling a vet, Tim figured he'd ask Cobb about it first since
Cobb had his own mule.
He walked over to Cobb's, found him bucking a log.
Tim explained what symptoms the mule was showing, and asked Cobb if
his mule ever got sick like that.
"Nope."
About to leave to get the vet, he asked Cobb if he had seen any mule
sick like that.
"Yep. My last mule did."
Well, Tim asked, how did you treat him?
"Gave him a quart of turpentine."
Thank You! said Tim.
Tim went back home, fetched a quart of turpentine from the shed and
went to the barn. His mule was down and now had labored breathing.
Tim cradled the heavy mule head in his lap and prying the jaws open,
poured the turpentine down the mule's throat.
The mule took a couple deep breaths, stood up, got on his hind legs,
then toppled over dead, legs in the air.
Tim went back to Cobb, who was still sawing wood.
Well, said Tim, I gave Guss the turpentine like you said, and it
killed him.
"Yep. Killed mine too."

Now don't mistake me for Cobb, or yourself for Tim, but I have to tell
that the last time I pounded a fitting onto a battery terminal the
damn terminal fell right into the battery.

--Vic
on a bunted at