Chrismas started off ok, but it quickly went downhill. We gave the kids a few presents, smiles all around, and cleaned up. At about 1, I got a call over my pager for a fire in a bedroom, and I raced to the scene in time to see some black smoke issuing from an apartment window. Luckily no one was hurt and there was relatively little property damage; still, I felt bad for the man who owned the place.
I got home to discover that Emmett's stomach was achier than usual. He's been having headaches and abdominal cramps, but these were worse than anything he'd had up till now. Shirra called the doctor and we kept giving him fluids, but a few hours later, as he was brushing his teeth, he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. I rubbed his back and told him to let loose if he had to, and sure enough, he puked twice into the sink. His evening only got worse, really, as he woke up several times for more of the same, and by morning he was exhausted from dehydration and lack of sleep. Shirra was exhausted, too, but I wasn't too tired because I'd gone to bed early in order to help Emmett thruout the night. He spent today recovering from the previous 12 hours, and by keeping him on ginger ale and crackers, we kept the vomiting at bay.
It wasn't the happiest Christmas, but at least it was memorable.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Beware the $2 Mouse
Back a year ago, Fiona requested a mouse. It seemed like a nice idea -- they're so small and cute -- and it wasn't like she was asking for a $200 chinchilla. At $2, Ralph seemed like a bargain. Well, there was the cage and other rodent accoutrements, but the over all cost was under $50, and if I recall correctly, Fiona picked up most of that tab. Since we already had 5 guinea pigs, we were buying tons of bedding, so the small amount he needed was about as negligible as his size.
Then Fiona decided she wanted a 2nd mouse. At first, this seemed like aninvestment of just $2 more. But Algernon didn't get along with Ralph, so we had to get a 2nd set of accoutrements, which also meant that Shirra, who was cleaning the cages of all the animals, had one more job each week. Sadly, Ralph died shortly after we got the new mouse. It seemed like Algernon wouldn't last much longer, too, when he started losing fur.
We took him to our wonderful vet, Dr Malamud, and she suggested treating him for mites. This required $22 shots once a week as well as a few tests. We tried some antibiotics, too (we're now on the second round of them). We've also had to change his bedding a bit more often.
Not including the 'human' cost of the time we've spent cleaning his cage and waiting at the vet's office, the actual cost of this $2 mouse is verging on $300, and that's only because the vet has been kind to us in her charges.
Beware, dear reader, the $2 mouse!
Now, I've spent more than that on purebred cats, and Shirra's hedgehog was $200 for a pet you can't hold without gloves or small blisters, so I'm not begrudging the cost. It's just that Fiona rarely plays with Algernon these days. For the most part, it's more like she's the adoptive but neglectful mother of a mouse and 2 guinea pigs who serve the function of unused Christmas presents. Parents enjoy giving them, and children enjoy receiving them, and telling their friends that they have them. But that's pretty much where the joy ends.
Bah, humbug.
Then Fiona decided she wanted a 2nd mouse. At first, this seemed like aninvestment of just $2 more. But Algernon didn't get along with Ralph, so we had to get a 2nd set of accoutrements, which also meant that Shirra, who was cleaning the cages of all the animals, had one more job each week. Sadly, Ralph died shortly after we got the new mouse. It seemed like Algernon wouldn't last much longer, too, when he started losing fur.
We took him to our wonderful vet, Dr Malamud, and she suggested treating him for mites. This required $22 shots once a week as well as a few tests. We tried some antibiotics, too (we're now on the second round of them). We've also had to change his bedding a bit more often.
Not including the 'human' cost of the time we've spent cleaning his cage and waiting at the vet's office, the actual cost of this $2 mouse is verging on $300, and that's only because the vet has been kind to us in her charges.
Beware, dear reader, the $2 mouse!
Now, I've spent more than that on purebred cats, and Shirra's hedgehog was $200 for a pet you can't hold without gloves or small blisters, so I'm not begrudging the cost. It's just that Fiona rarely plays with Algernon these days. For the most part, it's more like she's the adoptive but neglectful mother of a mouse and 2 guinea pigs who serve the function of unused Christmas presents. Parents enjoy giving them, and children enjoy receiving them, and telling their friends that they have them. But that's pretty much where the joy ends.
Bah, humbug.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Oh, the Weather Outside is...
Well, 'frightful' would be a bit strong. That might have described the forecast, but it certainly didn't describe the actual weather that followed it. Winter storm advisories were calling for a major nor'easter to dump 6-12 inches on New Paltz and the environs. We barely got two inches.
Still, that was enough to trap my family for many hours today. We made the most of it, tho. Shirra trekked down to Route 32, where her employee picked her up. She got to spend the day in her store, knitting, chatting, and watching bootleg tv shows on Cricket's laptop. The kids made it outside for an hour's worth of tramping in the snow and sledding. I got in some quality time with the computer, playing an hour of online Scrabble (isc.ro) before joining the kids for a bit. I got some nice snaps of the kids, including one of Maeve standing next to the snowwoman she made on Thursday with her babysitter (featuring ample snow-boobs). After lunch, it was naptime for Maeve.
STUCK in the SNOW
While she was a-nap, I decided to see if the road was passable. The car got stuck a few times, but clearly it wouldn't be impossible to get to 32 if I could make it up the small incline past our neighbor's house. The only problem is that this same incline begins at a small bridge between two ponds, and the bridge doesn't have guard rails. For me to make it over the incline, I'd have to build up speed, but to do that, I had to back over the bridge (yes, BACK, as in backwards) four or five times; it got less terrify each round. Eventually, I made it to 32 and thence to the fire house.
FIRE CALLS
A call had come in to my pager just before I went outside, and another came in a few minutes later. I figured I'd get to the station as quickly as I could, but the trip that normally takes 6 minutes took more like 30. Still, I made it there in time to answer a third call (a false alarm), clean up the firetrucks and the station, and head to Starbucks, all by 4pm. I got some surprises for the wife and kids and then picked Shirra up at her store.
It was a quiet and relaxing snowy day in the Paltz.
Still, that was enough to trap my family for many hours today. We made the most of it, tho. Shirra trekked down to Route 32, where her employee picked her up. She got to spend the day in her store, knitting, chatting, and watching bootleg tv shows on Cricket's laptop. The kids made it outside for an hour's worth of tramping in the snow and sledding. I got in some quality time with the computer, playing an hour of online Scrabble (isc.ro) before joining the kids for a bit. I got some nice snaps of the kids, including one of Maeve standing next to the snowwoman she made on Thursday with her babysitter (featuring ample snow-boobs). After lunch, it was naptime for Maeve.
STUCK in the SNOW
While she was a-nap, I decided to see if the road was passable. The car got stuck a few times, but clearly it wouldn't be impossible to get to 32 if I could make it up the small incline past our neighbor's house. The only problem is that this same incline begins at a small bridge between two ponds, and the bridge doesn't have guard rails. For me to make it over the incline, I'd have to build up speed, but to do that, I had to back over the bridge (yes, BACK, as in backwards) four or five times; it got less terrify each round. Eventually, I made it to 32 and thence to the fire house.
FIRE CALLS
A call had come in to my pager just before I went outside, and another came in a few minutes later. I figured I'd get to the station as quickly as I could, but the trip that normally takes 6 minutes took more like 30. Still, I made it there in time to answer a third call (a false alarm), clean up the firetrucks and the station, and head to Starbucks, all by 4pm. I got some surprises for the wife and kids and then picked Shirra up at her store.
It was a quiet and relaxing snowy day in the Paltz.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Naming New Paltzers
Cat the Cheese, Ben the Plow, Steve the Fire. These are a few of our favorite names around New Paltz.
When we first moved to the Noop, we knew that we'd be meeting a lot of new people in all areas of our lives. We decided to borrow from one of our favorite movies in order to simplify things. In an early Hugh Grant movie called "The Englishman Who Went up a Hill and Came down a Mountain," some Welsh townsfolk refer to each other as [Name] the [Job]. We decided to adopt that strategy as well. It seems to make the most sense to use this technique under two circumstances:
1. The person has a common name, so we're trying to avoid confusion, or
2. The person doesn't come up in conversation too often, so we're reminding each other about the person in a shorthand way.
[Name] the [Job] has two benefits. It conveys a sentence-worth of information in just three words, and it's fun.
Our favorite names so far:
Cat the Cheese: the lovely young woman who owns the cheese shop in Water Street Market
Dave the Toy: owns Enchanted Toys.
Ben the Plow: the man who saves us from being completely snowed in,
Joe the Plow: the man who saved us when Ben the Plow didn't make it one time last year,
Joe the Phone: a fireman who happens to work for Verizon,
Steve the Fire: another fireman (who happens to be a musician),
Steve the Mail: our usual mailman,
When we first moved to the Noop, we knew that we'd be meeting a lot of new people in all areas of our lives. We decided to borrow from one of our favorite movies in order to simplify things. In an early Hugh Grant movie called "The Englishman Who Went up a Hill and Came down a Mountain," some Welsh townsfolk refer to each other as [Name] the [Job]. We decided to adopt that strategy as well. It seems to make the most sense to use this technique under two circumstances:
1. The person has a common name, so we're trying to avoid confusion, or
2. The person doesn't come up in conversation too often, so we're reminding each other about the person in a shorthand way.
[Name] the [Job] has two benefits. It conveys a sentence-worth of information in just three words, and it's fun.
Our favorite names so far:
Cat the Cheese: the lovely young woman who owns the cheese shop in Water Street Market
Dave the Toy: owns Enchanted Toys.
Ben the Plow: the man who saves us from being completely snowed in,
Joe the Plow: the man who saved us when Ben the Plow didn't make it one time last year,
Joe the Phone: a fireman who happens to work for Verizon,
Steve the Fire: another fireman (who happens to be a musician),
Steve the Mail: our usual mailman,
Cars that Go Bump in the Day
SNOW
The snow hit hard this morning, starting just as I was leaving the firehouse following a false alarm. I decided to run a few errands, ending up at Shirra's store. After grabbing some needles that she needed, I put up a sign to announce that the store was closed due to snow, and then I headed home. Since the car was parked on Church, I drove over to Manheim and then made a left. This was a mistake -- that road is fairly steep and rarely plowed.
BOOM
There were two cars ahead of me, and both of them were sliding around a bit; apparently both drivers were turning into a driveway just after my left turn from Church. One of the cars made it, but the other slipped a bit just as I began driving down that road. And then I slipped. My car kept sliding, picking up speed as it headed towards the other car, so I honked to alert the driver to our impending boom. It felt like I hit her pretty hard, but luckily there was no damage to either car. Since I had some sand in my car, I spread some under her car (and another that had shown up a minute later), rescuing both drivers before heading home.
Although the weather in Manhattan wasn't too bad, the roads TO Manhattan were probably slick, so there was a chance I'd get stuck. I decided to cancel my students for the day just to be on the safe side. We made hot chocolate, the kids went sledding and exploring in the snow, and late in the day, our plow guy showed up. At least we won't be stuck home tomorrow.
The snow hit hard this morning, starting just as I was leaving the firehouse following a false alarm. I decided to run a few errands, ending up at Shirra's store. After grabbing some needles that she needed, I put up a sign to announce that the store was closed due to snow, and then I headed home. Since the car was parked on Church, I drove over to Manheim and then made a left. This was a mistake -- that road is fairly steep and rarely plowed.
BOOM
There were two cars ahead of me, and both of them were sliding around a bit; apparently both drivers were turning into a driveway just after my left turn from Church. One of the cars made it, but the other slipped a bit just as I began driving down that road. And then I slipped. My car kept sliding, picking up speed as it headed towards the other car, so I honked to alert the driver to our impending boom. It felt like I hit her pretty hard, but luckily there was no damage to either car. Since I had some sand in my car, I spread some under her car (and another that had shown up a minute later), rescuing both drivers before heading home.
Although the weather in Manhattan wasn't too bad, the roads TO Manhattan were probably slick, so there was a chance I'd get stuck. I decided to cancel my students for the day just to be on the safe side. We made hot chocolate, the kids went sledding and exploring in the snow, and late in the day, our plow guy showed up. At least we won't be stuck home tomorrow.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Think Fast
My First Day of Fasting
The day I turned 40, I decided to limit my caloric intake drastically. I went from about 3000 calories a day (including lots of Starbucks treats) to a diet of less than the recommended daily allowance of 2000 (and no *$$). In two months, I went from 193 lbs to about 168, a loss of 25 pounds. I still ate chocolate and had some ice cream, but I was really careful about avoiding unnecessary (empty) calories, like soda, and I severely cut down on my inveterate late-night snacking tendencies. Then came Martha's Vineyard.
I'd kept my weight at about 168, give or take a few pounds, for the months leading up to the summer, but that Murdick's fudge gets me every time. I found myself eating at least a half pound a day, in addition to frequent trips to Mad Martha's ice cream, and in two weeks, my weight was over 180. I was pretty annoyed.
In the months since that trip, I've managed to stay at around 177, which feels like a comfortable weight, but I've been snacking more, and eating more ice cream, than I should. I decided it was time to do something about this once again, and a few days ago I decided that today I would start a once-a-week abstinence from food. "Wednesdays Without," I guess you could call it. If I'd waited a couple more days, I could have had "Foodless Fridays," but Wednesdays just happened to work out better for my schedule.
It's funny how unconscious we can be around food. While helping Maeve with her lunch today, I opened a container of stringbeans that her mom had packed and found myself munching two of them. Oops. So my fast wasn't totally perfect. I also let Maeve feed me a blueberry, but that was conscious; you have to allow for cutenesses like that. I had also read that many people simply avoid 'food' but don't eschew fruit juices, so I had a few ounces of blueberry juice this morning, a quarter-lemon's worth of juice in my green tea, and later, some sparkling apple cider.
It's also confusing when people talk about fasting for a 'day.' Does that mean you can start eating again 24 hours after your last late-night snack? I don't think so. I decided to interpret 'day' to mean the 30- to 36-hour period from previous meal to next meal. So I have to wait until tomorrow morning before I can eat again.
Fasting is supposed to extend lifespan and generally improve health, which is why I've chosen to do it. It certainly wasn't as hard as I'd expected. It's also said to help reduce sugar cravings, so I'm looking forward to that aspect as well. I'm also really looking forward to breakfast, which in this case is a well-named meal. I'll stick with my honey yogurt (<200 cal), but I'm going to switch from my usual black tea with milk and a whopping tablespoon of sugar to green tea with a bit of lemon.
The day I turned 40, I decided to limit my caloric intake drastically. I went from about 3000 calories a day (including lots of Starbucks treats) to a diet of less than the recommended daily allowance of 2000 (and no *$$). In two months, I went from 193 lbs to about 168, a loss of 25 pounds. I still ate chocolate and had some ice cream, but I was really careful about avoiding unnecessary (empty) calories, like soda, and I severely cut down on my inveterate late-night snacking tendencies. Then came Martha's Vineyard.
I'd kept my weight at about 168, give or take a few pounds, for the months leading up to the summer, but that Murdick's fudge gets me every time. I found myself eating at least a half pound a day, in addition to frequent trips to Mad Martha's ice cream, and in two weeks, my weight was over 180. I was pretty annoyed.
In the months since that trip, I've managed to stay at around 177, which feels like a comfortable weight, but I've been snacking more, and eating more ice cream, than I should. I decided it was time to do something about this once again, and a few days ago I decided that today I would start a once-a-week abstinence from food. "Wednesdays Without," I guess you could call it. If I'd waited a couple more days, I could have had "Foodless Fridays," but Wednesdays just happened to work out better for my schedule.
It's funny how unconscious we can be around food. While helping Maeve with her lunch today, I opened a container of stringbeans that her mom had packed and found myself munching two of them. Oops. So my fast wasn't totally perfect. I also let Maeve feed me a blueberry, but that was conscious; you have to allow for cutenesses like that. I had also read that many people simply avoid 'food' but don't eschew fruit juices, so I had a few ounces of blueberry juice this morning, a quarter-lemon's worth of juice in my green tea, and later, some sparkling apple cider.
It's also confusing when people talk about fasting for a 'day.' Does that mean you can start eating again 24 hours after your last late-night snack? I don't think so. I decided to interpret 'day' to mean the 30- to 36-hour period from previous meal to next meal. So I have to wait until tomorrow morning before I can eat again.
Fasting is supposed to extend lifespan and generally improve health, which is why I've chosen to do it. It certainly wasn't as hard as I'd expected. It's also said to help reduce sugar cravings, so I'm looking forward to that aspect as well. I'm also really looking forward to breakfast, which in this case is a well-named meal. I'll stick with my honey yogurt (<200 cal), but I'm going to switch from my usual black tea with milk and a whopping tablespoon of sugar to green tea with a bit of lemon.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Slip Slidin' Away
This morning my 11-year-old woke me up with the news that her mom's car was stuck in ice near the lake on our road. Ah, blissful sleep.
20 minutes later (I was slow to awaken) I was pushing our minivan uphill as Shirra gunned the engine. The problem with Honda's Odyssey models is that you really _can't_ gun their engines. They're programmed so that when you put the pedal to the medal, the wheels only turn slowly, never reaching even as fast as 50 mph. Apparently this is some kind of safety measure for when you're driving on icy roads, but when you're stuck on one, it's a real disadvantage. After about 40 minutes of pushing the car after applying sand on the road, we were back home.
Not surprisingly, school had been delayed for two hours due to icy conditions. My wife found this out a bit too late, and by that time, she was stuck half-way down our long hill. Since it took so long to get the car back home, I basically had to get back into my car just a half-hour later so that I could make a second attempt down the road. It was scary going, but we eventually got to Route 32 safely, and after that the trip was a cinch.
The rest of the day was just as eventful. I managed to get both of the other kids to their schools, but Maeve's preschool was only 90 minutes, and with the errands I had to run, it felt like I had to pick her up as soon as I'd dropped her off, and then I had to turn around and head into Manhattan. I saw two students, then rushed back into New Paltz for a mandatory but fairly useless fire fighter class. Shirra, meanwhile, had a great day at the store, where business has been brisk -- in some part due to the upcoming holidays. We were both able to get our cars back home safely, with some difficulty and trepidation. We'll definitely have to call that School Closing Hotline before leaving tomorrow!
20 minutes later (I was slow to awaken) I was pushing our minivan uphill as Shirra gunned the engine. The problem with Honda's Odyssey models is that you really _can't_ gun their engines. They're programmed so that when you put the pedal to the medal, the wheels only turn slowly, never reaching even as fast as 50 mph. Apparently this is some kind of safety measure for when you're driving on icy roads, but when you're stuck on one, it's a real disadvantage. After about 40 minutes of pushing the car after applying sand on the road, we were back home.
Not surprisingly, school had been delayed for two hours due to icy conditions. My wife found this out a bit too late, and by that time, she was stuck half-way down our long hill. Since it took so long to get the car back home, I basically had to get back into my car just a half-hour later so that I could make a second attempt down the road. It was scary going, but we eventually got to Route 32 safely, and after that the trip was a cinch.
The rest of the day was just as eventful. I managed to get both of the other kids to their schools, but Maeve's preschool was only 90 minutes, and with the errands I had to run, it felt like I had to pick her up as soon as I'd dropped her off, and then I had to turn around and head into Manhattan. I saw two students, then rushed back into New Paltz for a mandatory but fairly useless fire fighter class. Shirra, meanwhile, had a great day at the store, where business has been brisk -- in some part due to the upcoming holidays. We were both able to get our cars back home safely, with some difficulty and trepidation. We'll definitely have to call that School Closing Hotline before leaving tomorrow!
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Gas Problem
When it comes to my car, I have a gas problem: I'm not gassy enough.
Today marked the 4th time in my life that I hv run out of gas, 3 of them in the past few months. I'd like to say that this time wasn't totally my fault, but of course it was.
TIME the FIRST
The first time happened when I was in college. I drovew a gas guzzler that my parents had insisted I buy, rather than a snazzier model, because it was so large that it might protect me in an accident. I'm not sure that this theory still makes sense. Nowadays, the only people who drive really long cars adorn the dashboards of their vehicles with photos of their grandkids. As for my car, a Ford Granada that I called "The Boat," I do know that the thing sucked down gasoline like a baby
takes to milk. Fortunately, when I did run out of gas, it was while I was on my way to the local 7-11...to get gas. I came up about a mile short and got a push the rest of the way from a nice man who was driving an even larger car. His dashboard was festooned with photos of his grandkids.
EPISODE #2
I was really good about keeping my car filled up for the next 20 years, but then we moved to New Paltz. I began making regular drives into Manhattan, and I realized that I could save about $6 a tankful if I fueled up in New Jersey, which happens to be part of the fastest route. This played right into my intense drive to save money (or to avoid wasting it, to be precise). Rather than filling up in New Paltz, I'd figure out if I could make it into Joisey; if not, I'd load up with no more than a few dollars' gas, just to avoid wasting that extra $4 or $5. Saving money brings me peace of mind, I guess.
But back in September, I was heading out of The City when the car seized up. I had just enough time to pull over before the engine stopped working. Amazingly, I ended up in an actual parking spot. The chance of this happening in Manhattan is right up there with the chance of Reese Witherspoon's character winning her lawsuit in Legally Blonde. If it hadn't happened to me, I might not have believed it. After pinching myself and then apologizing to the kids for the delay, I was able to unicycle to a nearby gas station and get the car back on the road in under 20 minutes.
THIRD TIME'S a CHARM
Last week, I started to feel that seizing sensation as the car ran out of gas just as I pulled into the first gas station in New Jersey. Based on what happened today, I now know that I had less than 1000 feet of 'wiggle room' before the car was totally immobile. I knew I was running low (correction: on fumes), but I kept my speed down to maximize gas milage and just hoped that I had enough to get to the station. Well, I pulled it off by .2 miles that time, but my calculations were off today!
FOURTH TIME'S NOT SO CHARMING
I forgot to fill up in New Paltz, and in fact, I passed the only gas station for the next 30 miles way back on Route 87 before finally remembering that I was really low on gas. I checked the gauge -- not the gas gauge, since that's broken, but the readout that tells me how much gas I've consumed since the last time I hit a certain button that my Aztek is equipped with -- and it told me that I had used 17.3 gallons since refueling. That suggested that I had about a gallon left. My calculations suggested that I could make it to the filling station about 20 miles away, and I slowed down more than usual in order to save gas. This was especially important because the car was struggling into a fierce headwind that cut my gas milage by about 20%. At mile marker 38 or so, I started to feel that sticky feeling as the car seized up, and even tho I 'should' have had enough gas to make it to the filling station, I knew that I had somehow run out. I pulled into the slow lane and then onto the shoulder and let the car glide until gravity and friction slowed it to a stop. It would not restart, but I thought I was close enough that I could run to the gas station and back rather than having to call Triple-A.
A half-mile of running in a fierce, chill wind, I finally came to the turn in the road where I expected to see the pumps not too far ahead. I saw nothing more than road, and that's when it became obvious that the gas station was close to where I had run out of gas only if one is moving 70 miles per hour at the time. I called Triple-A and began to deal with this debacle a second way.
AAA is great if you have car troubles and know exactly where you are, but they seem to lack even the most basic computerized navigation system like the GPS that my wife and I share. I told the operator that I was at mile marker 37.5 on the southbound side of Route 87 in New Jersey and expected her to say that she could see me on a satellite image like on the Show '24.' Instead she asked me what city I was in. City? In? I wasn't in a city. Aren't highways exempt from being IN cities? I thought that they were like the rivers of old, separating and skirting cities but never truly part of them. Apparently this is not the case, and a mere ten minutes later, she had located me on a map (I could hear the folding and unfolding). Another half-hour later a state trooper arrived, and I thought I was thru with my hiccup, but instead, he merely informed me that a gas truck (actually a tow truck) was on its way in about ten more minutes. I'm not sure why a trooper had to ascertain that I was out of gas before calling for the tow truck, and I'm also not sure why troopers don't just carry a gallon of gas.
Amazingly I made it to Manhattan in time for my first student. I even found an ideal parking spot and did some last-minute Hanukkah shopping before our session. So, did I learn my lesson? I'm not so sure.
Today marked the 4th time in my life that I hv run out of gas, 3 of them in the past few months. I'd like to say that this time wasn't totally my fault, but of course it was.
TIME the FIRST
The first time happened when I was in college. I drovew a gas guzzler that my parents had insisted I buy, rather than a snazzier model, because it was so large that it might protect me in an accident. I'm not sure that this theory still makes sense. Nowadays, the only people who drive really long cars adorn the dashboards of their vehicles with photos of their grandkids. As for my car, a Ford Granada that I called "The Boat," I do know that the thing sucked down gasoline like a baby
takes to milk. Fortunately, when I did run out of gas, it was while I was on my way to the local 7-11...to get gas. I came up about a mile short and got a push the rest of the way from a nice man who was driving an even larger car. His dashboard was festooned with photos of his grandkids.
EPISODE #2
I was really good about keeping my car filled up for the next 20 years, but then we moved to New Paltz. I began making regular drives into Manhattan, and I realized that I could save about $6 a tankful if I fueled up in New Jersey, which happens to be part of the fastest route. This played right into my intense drive to save money (or to avoid wasting it, to be precise). Rather than filling up in New Paltz, I'd figure out if I could make it into Joisey; if not, I'd load up with no more than a few dollars' gas, just to avoid wasting that extra $4 or $5. Saving money brings me peace of mind, I guess.
But back in September, I was heading out of The City when the car seized up. I had just enough time to pull over before the engine stopped working. Amazingly, I ended up in an actual parking spot. The chance of this happening in Manhattan is right up there with the chance of Reese Witherspoon's character winning her lawsuit in Legally Blonde. If it hadn't happened to me, I might not have believed it. After pinching myself and then apologizing to the kids for the delay, I was able to unicycle to a nearby gas station and get the car back on the road in under 20 minutes.
THIRD TIME'S a CHARM
Last week, I started to feel that seizing sensation as the car ran out of gas just as I pulled into the first gas station in New Jersey. Based on what happened today, I now know that I had less than 1000 feet of 'wiggle room' before the car was totally immobile. I knew I was running low (correction: on fumes), but I kept my speed down to maximize gas milage and just hoped that I had enough to get to the station. Well, I pulled it off by .2 miles that time, but my calculations were off today!
FOURTH TIME'S NOT SO CHARMING
I forgot to fill up in New Paltz, and in fact, I passed the only gas station for the next 30 miles way back on Route 87 before finally remembering that I was really low on gas. I checked the gauge -- not the gas gauge, since that's broken, but the readout that tells me how much gas I've consumed since the last time I hit a certain button that my Aztek is equipped with -- and it told me that I had used 17.3 gallons since refueling. That suggested that I had about a gallon left. My calculations suggested that I could make it to the filling station about 20 miles away, and I slowed down more than usual in order to save gas. This was especially important because the car was struggling into a fierce headwind that cut my gas milage by about 20%. At mile marker 38 or so, I started to feel that sticky feeling as the car seized up, and even tho I 'should' have had enough gas to make it to the filling station, I knew that I had somehow run out. I pulled into the slow lane and then onto the shoulder and let the car glide until gravity and friction slowed it to a stop. It would not restart, but I thought I was close enough that I could run to the gas station and back rather than having to call Triple-A.
A half-mile of running in a fierce, chill wind, I finally came to the turn in the road where I expected to see the pumps not too far ahead. I saw nothing more than road, and that's when it became obvious that the gas station was close to where I had run out of gas only if one is moving 70 miles per hour at the time. I called Triple-A and began to deal with this debacle a second way.
AAA is great if you have car troubles and know exactly where you are, but they seem to lack even the most basic computerized navigation system like the GPS that my wife and I share. I told the operator that I was at mile marker 37.5 on the southbound side of Route 87 in New Jersey and expected her to say that she could see me on a satellite image like on the Show '24.' Instead she asked me what city I was in. City? In? I wasn't in a city. Aren't highways exempt from being IN cities? I thought that they were like the rivers of old, separating and skirting cities but never truly part of them. Apparently this is not the case, and a mere ten minutes later, she had located me on a map (I could hear the folding and unfolding). Another half-hour later a state trooper arrived, and I thought I was thru with my hiccup, but instead, he merely informed me that a gas truck (actually a tow truck) was on its way in about ten more minutes. I'm not sure why a trooper had to ascertain that I was out of gas before calling for the tow truck, and I'm also not sure why troopers don't just carry a gallon of gas.
Amazingly I made it to Manhattan in time for my first student. I even found an ideal parking spot and did some last-minute Hanukkah shopping before our session. So, did I learn my lesson? I'm not so sure.
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