Priority Interrupt by Steve Ciarcia Electronic Gremlins

As I write this I’m sitting in the waiting room at a car dealership. I’m not in the part of the dealership that sells the cars. They already pulled that trick. This is where they have you wait when the car fails the end-user application. I’m in the BMW Service Department waiting room. As you might guess, I’m not alone. There are four other men and three women who look agitated either at having to be late for work because their cars broke down or because they’re the ones stuck doing the dirty work for their spouses. These days, BMW ownership isn’t gender-specific. Failure is now an equal-opportunity frustration.

A full waiting area always elicits predictable behavior. Invariably, people start describing their car problems almost in a game of one-upmanship. One guy looked up from his newspaper and said, “I got into the car yesterday and turned the lights on. Instead of the lights, the left rear window went down and the radio went on!”

You think that’s bad, another guy added, “I was on the entrance ramp and stomped on the gas. All of a sudden everything turns to crap. The engine drops to 500 rpm, and I get a stupid message that says Engine Failsafe Program–Service Engine Soon. You can say that again!”

A large elderly lady in the corner of the waiting room shouted, “Heck, that’s nothing. Every time I put the key in the ignition, the front seat looses its marbles and goes back to the factory default for some emaciated assembly mechanic. If I don’t hit the seat-position stop button quickly, I’m in a $75,000 trash compactor.” And so it continues around the room.

In deference to automobile and electronics manufacturers everywhere, I have to qualify my biased opinions by telling you that I have a zero-tolerance policy for electronic things that don’t work right. With many of them I have an ultimate remedy. If I get truly frustrated, I just toss the thing in the trash and start again. Yes, I realize this sounds like I’m ignoring remedial relief from manufacturers or retailers, but I factor that into my decision. Sometimes I just want the problem to go away. It’s not about the lost value. It’s just…get this thing out of my face.

Unfortunately, cars are a bit of a different story. Although some people have those resources, I can’t just toss a car in the trash because it irritates me. When it doesn’t work right I have to join the others in the Service Department waiting room and kill time until it’s my turn in the story-telling ring. Now that it’s my turn, I say, “I’m sitting at my desk and all of a sudden I hear a car alarm system go off outside the building. I hear false alarms outside everyday from the courthouse parking lot next door so it was nothing new. I was ready to ignore this one until I got a call from downstairs telling me it was my car this time. By the time I got to the car, it stopped! It happened twice more in the next week.”

My story isn’t quite as thrilling as the guy who complained about the battery short that almost served up one of his passengers medium-rare (the battery is under the rear passenger seat). Nevertheless, I continued, “If the alarm going off wasn’t bad enough, yesterday I come out to my car and not only is it unlocked, all the windows are completely down and the sun roof is wide open. Talk about inviting problems!”

So, that’s the reason I’m sitting here—electronic gremlins! Alarms going off and windows opening. Unfortunately, publishing an embedded-control design magazine doesn’t help, I assure you. It only reminds me that I have the inside track on knowing that total system meltdown is often only one watchdog timer routine away. The more electronics we add to cars, appliances, and toasters, the more dependent we are on how they’re designed. It’s not about how great they work when they run. It’s about how badly they perform when the operating code takes a left turn instead of a return.

I was going to relate more waiting room stories but my “personal service advisor” just told me the car is ready. He tells me, “Well, the computer registered the alarms going off and indicated they were related to the hood switch. The plunger on your hood switch is too short, so we installed a plunger switch with a longer plunger. As for the car opening by itself and the windows going down, how far is your office from where you park the car and is the key in your pocket?”

I was still mulling over the plunger deal as he talked. Bad hood switch? They’ve been making this car model for three and a half years. How did I get one with a short plunger? Well, hopefully it’s fixed. And, oh yeah, “My office is about 100 feet from the car.”

Without the slightest expression of “you idiot,” my advisor continues, “Well, if you press and hold the key, it automatically lowers all the windows. This is a program feature with the car. Just for you, however, we reprogrammed your key not to allow this function anymore. Just in case you sit on your key again.”

I’m not sure I totally buy this “operator error” explanation. It’s certainly not a big attention grabber among the waiting room crowd when it comes time to tell your story, but I suppose it’s plausible. In truth, I’m not sure whether or not I’m more upset that the key might intermittently possess a range that allows me to accidentally unlock the car. The other alternative is that this is all a crock of you-know-what, and I still have electronic gremlins. It would be a lot easier if I could just throw it away and try another car.

steve.ciarcia@circuitcellar.com

Published: May 2003