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.