Caput

Yesterday, we were experiencing our first snow flurries in the area. It was about 35 degrees and it was snowing at a fairly decent pace. Not a big deal usually, but on my way home from work my car picked that exact moment, of all moments, during rush hour traffic and the first snow of the season to take a dive!!! I was driving along, all the gauges were normal, when all the sudden all the dash lights come on! It took me a second to realize that the car had DIED! Right there, going 45mph, in the left lane on a busy, four lane highway! I took a deep breath, signalled and got in the right lane, attempting to coast to an area to pull off the highway. No luck. That area has curbs and sidewalks. I ended up stopped in the right lane. I put my flashers on and tried to re-start the car. It would not start. It cranks like it's gonna start, but will not start. I'm thinking it's not getting fuel, but have no way to check that on a snowy highway. Traffic flies past me. I grab my phone and call Carl who, thank Jesus, was working at the shop, too, and only about 15 minutes away.

Thank goodness, a police officer came up behind me after about 5 minutes and asked if I was OK. I burst into tears and said, "No! It won't start. My husband is on his way to help." He asked me to try to start it to show him. Wouldn't start. (of course) He asked if I had gas in it. I thought that was unecessarily sexist, but turned the ignition key on and pointed to the gas gauge which read full tank. The officer told me to stay in my car and wait for my husband and he did the same in his cruiser, cushioning me from the traffic.

Eventually, Carl came along and looked under the hood. I thought maybe the air filter was clogged but he guessed fuel pump right away and called a tow truck. I asked him to take out the air filter anyway and, of course, he was right. It's practically new. HE does the maintenance on the car, after all, and I guess I'm not quite used to that yet.

Finally, after 45 minutes and police shift-change, the tow truck came and, mercifully, put my Camaro onto a flat bet instead of dragging it behind. Less likely to suffer more damage that way.
The other day, the odometer rolled pas 88888, which I thought was kinda cool until I thought about it a minute. 90,000 miles?! That's where a lot of stuff starts going. *sigh* I should have known what an omenous sign that was!!