The End of Oil
Did I mention that the other night I ran out of gas by the side of the highway? It’s been so long since it happened, I suppose part of me stopped believing that cars ever really run out of gas. Anyway, my automotive hubris was punished the other night at about 11:30 PM on route 95. I sat in my car for 10 or 15 minutes with my emergency lights blinking, hoping that a cop would pull up, ask me “Is anything the matter?”, and then drive me to a gas station. This is what used to happen when the clunkers I drove as a teenager broke down. In the age of cell phones, such Good Samaratanism must be obsolete. Since I am the only person on Earth who doesn’t own a cell phone, it was time to get walking.
Leaving the emergency lights on because my car was stopped dangerously close to an on-ramp, I started walking north to the gas station which was hopefully right around the bend. It is somewhat of a strange feeling, walking on a highway at night, when the cars are passing by in only irregular rythms, and there is nothing but dark, mysterious trees lining the highway. Anyway, I walked a mile or so to a rest stop and bought a gallon of gas and a shiny new red tank at the gas station. I walked back, dreading that my car was either towed, ticketed, or smashed. Happily, my car was still intact after the 25-30 minute absence. This problem was going to be painlessly resolved, it appeared.
Ha! Never underestimate your own idocy! I found to my horror that I had no idea how to get the nozzle onto the gas can. Crouched down in front of my headlights, I fumbled with that goddamned gas can for 15 minutes with no success. And then my lights started getting dimmer because the car battery was losing power. The pictures on the can showing how to assemble the nozzle left no impression on me. The can must have been designed by visual learners. I panic, and basically start going nuts on the can. Somehow, I pound the little yellow cap so that it falls into the can and get the nozzle hooked up. I pour the gas into the tank. But, you can guess the rest…. When I got into the car and turned the key, the battery was dead. The emergency lights had killed the power. After another 2 mile round trip to the rest stop, a pay phone call to Triple A, and a 30 minute wait while soaking in the nocturnal Lexington air, I was back on the road.
Everyone to whom I have told this story to instantly produces the moral: Everyone should own and carry a cell phone. To me, the episode, while certainly inconvenient, vindicated my Luddism. I remember back in the mid-1990’s when cell phones first started getting really big, the first group of people to adopt the expensive things was young women. Back then, carrying a cell phone was viewed as a somewhat embarrassing pretension, and everyone who splurged on one felt the need to explain why they needed it. Most young women justified their possession of a cell phone by explaining that their parents made them buy it just in case their car broke down by the side of the road. I was never quite sure whether to buy this line of reasoning. Either there was an extremely deep undercurrent of fear among young women about being raped and killed by the side of a country road, or they were using it as an excuse because they just wanted one! Perhaps a combination of the two factors. I remember thinking back then: My car has broken down 5 or 6 times and it’s not that big a deal -- You find a pay phone and call Triple A. Ten years later, I still have the same attitude. Either the world is passing me by and I am a hopeless old relic, or I am the only person alive who doesn’t feel that 4 miles worth of exercise on route 95 at midnight doesn’t justify 120 months worth of cell phone bills. Perhaps a combination of the two. In any case, the cell phone has become such a universal lifestyle-enhancing appliance, that nobody apologizes for them anymore. People don’t even feel self-conscious anymore walking around with the most absurd headgear so that they can operate in “hands-free” mode. I will conserve my negative energy on this topic for an all-out rant some other time. For this blog entry, the ideology only serves as a fig leave to cover up my own ridiculousness, as a 32 year old man who cant figure out how to screw a nozzle on a gas cap.
Leaving the emergency lights on because my car was stopped dangerously close to an on-ramp, I started walking north to the gas station which was hopefully right around the bend. It is somewhat of a strange feeling, walking on a highway at night, when the cars are passing by in only irregular rythms, and there is nothing but dark, mysterious trees lining the highway. Anyway, I walked a mile or so to a rest stop and bought a gallon of gas and a shiny new red tank at the gas station. I walked back, dreading that my car was either towed, ticketed, or smashed. Happily, my car was still intact after the 25-30 minute absence. This problem was going to be painlessly resolved, it appeared.
Ha! Never underestimate your own idocy! I found to my horror that I had no idea how to get the nozzle onto the gas can. Crouched down in front of my headlights, I fumbled with that goddamned gas can for 15 minutes with no success. And then my lights started getting dimmer because the car battery was losing power. The pictures on the can showing how to assemble the nozzle left no impression on me. The can must have been designed by visual learners. I panic, and basically start going nuts on the can. Somehow, I pound the little yellow cap so that it falls into the can and get the nozzle hooked up. I pour the gas into the tank. But, you can guess the rest…. When I got into the car and turned the key, the battery was dead. The emergency lights had killed the power. After another 2 mile round trip to the rest stop, a pay phone call to Triple A, and a 30 minute wait while soaking in the nocturnal Lexington air, I was back on the road.
Everyone to whom I have told this story to instantly produces the moral: Everyone should own and carry a cell phone. To me, the episode, while certainly inconvenient, vindicated my Luddism. I remember back in the mid-1990’s when cell phones first started getting really big, the first group of people to adopt the expensive things was young women. Back then, carrying a cell phone was viewed as a somewhat embarrassing pretension, and everyone who splurged on one felt the need to explain why they needed it. Most young women justified their possession of a cell phone by explaining that their parents made them buy it just in case their car broke down by the side of the road. I was never quite sure whether to buy this line of reasoning. Either there was an extremely deep undercurrent of fear among young women about being raped and killed by the side of a country road, or they were using it as an excuse because they just wanted one! Perhaps a combination of the two factors. I remember thinking back then: My car has broken down 5 or 6 times and it’s not that big a deal -- You find a pay phone and call Triple A. Ten years later, I still have the same attitude. Either the world is passing me by and I am a hopeless old relic, or I am the only person alive who doesn’t feel that 4 miles worth of exercise on route 95 at midnight doesn’t justify 120 months worth of cell phone bills. Perhaps a combination of the two. In any case, the cell phone has become such a universal lifestyle-enhancing appliance, that nobody apologizes for them anymore. People don’t even feel self-conscious anymore walking around with the most absurd headgear so that they can operate in “hands-free” mode. I will conserve my negative energy on this topic for an all-out rant some other time. For this blog entry, the ideology only serves as a fig leave to cover up my own ridiculousness, as a 32 year old man who cant figure out how to screw a nozzle on a gas cap.
posted by itchy at 10:42 PM
1 Comments:
"Everyone to whom I have told this story to instantly produces the moral: Everyone should own and carry a cell phone." Really? I thought the moral I produced was, "Why didn't you stop and get gas since you knew your tank was empty?" I know better than to tell you to own a cell phone. Actually, I think it would be funny if you had a cell phone, and a Blackberry, and an iPod...you know, kinda like alterna-universe Craig. You'd use hair products and drive a BMW... you'd own a fancy house and have landscapers tend your shrubbery....oooh, where can I find THAT guy? KIDDING! And it's nice of you to share your rants with the world at large...
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