Machines. Damn Machines.
If it ain’t one thing it’s another. I thought the brougham (my ’85 Olds) was heading for a slow death last night. I was caught in rush hour traffic in some terrific horizontal rainstorm when slowly the juice just started to leave the car. The lights started dimming, the windshield wipers began to slow down and stutter across the glass, my radio was growing quiet and dying out, the whole car sounded as if it wanted to just give up and rest for awhile. My only hope was the accelerator. Somehow, the faster I went the more the battery appreciated it and gave life to my ride. But the traffic was packed up like a tight burrito. I had to ease up and a silly panic began to set in. I was sure that if my car came to a stop that it would mean defeat. My only shot was to gun it and hope for the best. In what must have looked like a drunken and desperate sprint across numerous lanes of traffic, I forged on and pushed the car to keep moving. I followed the path of least resistance, hoping that I would be able to get my road sled off the highway before I became a fool in the rain – a wet character sketch with a lame duck auto stalled in lane three. I desperately didn’t want to be that guy who you hear about during the rush hour traffic reports:
“Yeah, Bob, we got a big maroon car stalled in the Lowry Hill Tunnel, it’s backed up I-94 for 15 miles both ways. It’s a mess. A tow truck is in route but it could be a while…Now back to the Jazz…”
No way was that going to be me. So I did this weird dance to keep the boat alive. I kept the accelerator down, downshifted on the slope, maneuvered on shoulders, and eventually got off the highway. Once off the highway, I blew through a few stop signs and hopped a concrete median to get to the safety of a gas station and my salvation. The garage inspection team wasted little time handing down their verdict: “You got no alternator belt kid”.
Yup, the damn thing had come clear off. I suspect foul play, neighborhood hooligans or some such aggressors.
Anyway, I just got back from picking up the vehicle, equipped now with a new, state of the art, bright black (military grade I’m told), accelerator belt. Whoopee! The thing runs like a derby champ now. But I ain’t out of the fire yet. I just got word that two of our blessed servers have been hacked. Yup hacked. And now I must negotiate another catastrophe. Damn You Hackers! Stand Down cause I’m a coming after you.