MARK MY WORD: LIFE'S REPAIRS CARRY FEW WARRANTIES, EVEN IN OUTER SPACE

NASA's space station warranty runs out this week and the engine light is still on.

The agency is no closer to finishing the project than when it put the first two pieces into orbit two years ago.

The space station remains a work in progress with no occupants, no experiments, bad batteries, noisy equipment and poor ventilation.

The guarantee on the Russian-built equipment runs out this week. But NASA expects the station to keep running on empty until next month when astronauts are expected to arrive and give the place an overhaul, with new batteries, fans, air filters, fire extinguishers and smoke detectors.

All this talk of an overhaul reminds me of our ailing car.

I took the car to the dealership last week for repairs after the engine light started staying on.

After a day in the shop and the standard, labor-intensive repair bill, I got the car back. Supposedly, it was good as new.

But within a day the engine light came on again. My wife, Joni, called the repair shop. The repair guys did what they do best. They scheduled the car for another appointment this week.

It's unclear just how many appointments might be needed to get our car back on track. But what is clear is that this problem isn't covered by the car warranty. The repair guy explained that it was a maintenance matter. Translation: You won't get a free repair on this one.

Naturally, cars can be plagued by nagging problems. But at least you don't have to venture into outer space to fix them.

With cars, you can always get a loaner. That doesn't work for the space station, which seems to be running on empty and a poor set of tires.

Warranties sound nice, but they seldom seem to cover life's repairs.

Children don't come with warranties or batteries of any kind.

There's some assembly required. It's called parenting.

Unlike the car repair guy, there's no amount of money that can pay your labor costs when it comes to raising your children.

But at least we don't have to go wandering in space to raise them.

With a little luck, most kids turn out well. Some even excel in the annual Milk Bowl, featuring competition between college teams for the national championship of diary sniffing.

According to a news account, the event crawls with corporate recruiters seeking to sign the nation's top flavor-evaluation talent. Mississippi State's three-person team won the 1999 contest in October. The squad won the ice cream category and finished second in cheddar and yogurt.

In our home, 8-year-old Becca would be the clear winner in the chocolate milk category.

She certainly has plenty of experience, having consumed more than her share of the dairy brew.

These days we don't rely on the local supermarket for the chocolate stuff. We buy white milk and add chocolate powder.

Joni and I mix glass after glass of the stuff. We don't offer warranties, but so far Becca seems satisfied.

As for 4-year-old Bailey, she isn't on track to make the Milk Bowl. She prefers apple juice, the tasting of which has yet to become an Olympic sport.

Parenting isn't an Olympic sport either, although it can be every bit as challenging.

There are times as a parent when you're certain the engine light is on when it comes to your children's behavior.

But sooner or later, those things get corrected, generally without an appointment or a big repair bill.

The same can't be said of the NASA space station or our car.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.