One dark morning, I slid into the seat of my car, deciding what music to listen to on my way to work as I turned the key in the ignition. Wednesday must have disapproved of my early morning selection of Tom Petty’s Mojo, since she refused to start. There was an ominous clicking sound, all the zillions of warning lights on the dashboard flashed, but Wednesday’s battery appeared to be taking the Big Sleep.
I called in the cavalry in the form of Jonathan and Rob, and they arrived, wielding tools. Their considered opinion was that the battery was out for the count. They also observed that one of the headlights was out, which was news to me, though perhaps not surprising, considering how much time I spend driving in the dark.
The boys called the auto parts store for me and ordered the battery and headlight replacement. I helped by giving them my credit card to pay for it. The parts would not be in until the following week, and then I’d have to wait for my unpaid mechanics to install them, and in the meantime, I had a loaner car to drive.
The loaner car is a nice Toyota, a couple of years younger than Wednesday, but I’m always uncomfortable driving unfamiliar cars. I spent a few minutes figuring out where the lights, wipers, etc. were located, and drove more slowly than usual. It didn’t help that it was both foggy and smoky on my maiden voyage, and that visibility was terrible. I was following the lines on the middle of the road and hoping that I I didn’t meet an unexpected deer on my way to work.
The car measures speed by kilometers, so I never know how fast I’m going. If I get pulled over, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
A YEAR AGO: More delights at the County Fair.
FIVE YEARS AGO: Driving (not dancing) in the dark.
TEN YEARS AGO: A look around the Village.