Ode of the auto mechanic

I’m a journeyman technician
In an automotive shop
I’m supposed to know the answers
From the bottom to the top

I should diagnose the problem
With just a single look
And if I fail to fix it
You think that I’m a crook

When I charge you for my labor
You scream and moan
And even call and threaten me
Upon the telephone

But technology in the auto
Is advancing every year
And for the systems I must know
I simply have no peer

I must be more electrician
Than the man who wires your home
For the wiring system in your car
Outshines the Astrodome

Then refrigeration systems
That I’m supposed to know
Have more gadgets than your home
To make the darn thing go

Electronics now have made the scene
And more are coming yet
The car models already exceed
Your television set

In hydraulics I have more to learn
Than a specialist in pumps
There are brakes and shock absorbers
To help absorb the bumps

Torque converters and transmissions
With servos, valves and gears,
With models by the hundreds
Introduced in recent years

Fuel systems of a hundred kinds
I must adjust and meter
Each far more complicated
Than your furnace or water heater

The principles of combustion
I must know from A to Z
And gear trains that will far exceed
Most all machinery

I’m in welding, I’m in plumbing
For water, vacuum, oil, and fuel,
Compared to me, a plumber
Is a kid in grammar school

There’s models, makes and systems
Some seven hundred strong
And new ones coming up each year
To help the scheme along

Now compare me to the doctor
Whose prices make mine meager
Yet folks revere his expertise
Ever more impressed and eager

The human body hasn’t changed
In twenty thousand years
And every model works the same
From the ankles to the ears

There’s years of school in his field
And almost none in mine
I’ve learned by practicing my trade
And I read what I can find

There’s new equipment and technology
And medicines for sure
But this is true in my field too
As much or even more

There’s lots of books he has to read
His procedures to define
But for every page in his field
There’s twenty-five in mine

There’s no comebacks and no wait
You pay for what you get
And come back and pay again
If he hasn’t fixed it yet

His mistakes are often buried
While mine come back for free
And he plays golf on Wednesday
While my customers hassle me

We spend millions of tax dollars
Sending kids to medical school
But if you ask for some in my field
You’re treated like a fool

Everybody has one body
But no one has more
But when it comes to autos
You may have three or four

But you’ll go right on complaining
Of the way I run my show
With no appreciation
For the things I have to know

And you’ll take your high school dropouts
And you’ll shove them off to us
 And expect them to be experts
While you rant and rave and fuss

And when your car cannot be serviced
I’ll not hang my head in shame
So you’d best wake up America
And find out who’s to blame.