Life Bits and Other Chunks - The Memoirs of an Untrained Man

How was YOUR week?

We needed a car. Desperately.

While riding to work with a friend, I happened to notice a mid ‘70’s station wagon for four hundred dollars. I bought it.

The car certainly had flaws. The rear hatch was a dinosaur of a load, and didn’t latch properly. The weight kept it shut, for the most part. I noticed the idiot lights on the dashboard didn’t work. I found out the hard way when I ran the oil dry. I guess that doesn’t necessarily make me the genius, right? Little did I know, the worst was yet to come.

Here it was, the first week of December. Bitter cold wind blowing in from the Rockies, lashing out over the plains of Oklahoma. Ice was the main weather issued by Mother Nature.

I had left for work early to make sure I had plenty of time to make it to the studio, where I worked as a photographer. When I arrived and shut off the ‘wagon, I noticed a burning smell. After getting out and sniffing around, I opened the hood. I immediately noticed smoke emerging from an area deep in the engine. As the studio was still locked, it took me a few seconds to get inside and grab the fire extinguisher. I blasted the smoke spot with white powder, and it immediately disappeared.

I was careful to avoid essential areas of the engine compartment, such as the carburetor, radiator and battery. In fact, the shot was pretty clean and I figured I lucked out and could take a chance on driving the beast back home after work. I threw the fire extinguisher in the clunker before I jumped on the highway for the half-hour trip back home.

There I was, bookin’ down the highway. I looked to my left, and a guy in a blue sedan was frantically jabbing his finger towards the front of my car, and hollering something. Instantly I knew what was going on, and I pulled over. I popped the hood, and leaped out, fire extinguisher at hand. I lifted the hood, aimed and squeezed. Nothing. The engine fire was now responding to the enhanced oxygen exposure, and it intensified increasingly.

I about crapped! Apparently, I used up all of the juice in the fire extinguisher, or something. Later I found out that they need to be recharged. Ignorance was not bliss, in this case.

I looked around at the concrete shoulder. There was some dirt and gravel built up along the edge. I scooped a fine handful, ran back to the car, and threw it straight into the engine gap from where the smoke was by now belching. By the grace of God, or some other miracle, it was enough. My dilapidated car was once again flameless.

I still had a ways to go, and knew I needed a different plan. I took the next exit, and stopped at a gas station. I called my buddy and explained my predicament. He said he would drive over to where I was, and follow me home.

When he arrived, he brought along a six-pack of beer. After all, it was Friday, and I had already had a helluva day. We’d head home and figure out what was up with the dinosaur. Maybe after a few beers in, we may just have the mystery solved. Little did we know…

So I’m almost home, my buddy behind me. We were in a residential neighborhood a mile or so from the hacienda. The next thing you know, my buddy is flashing his lights and honking his horn at me. On fire again.

I started to pull into the first driveway, which was cement, but then I noticed a gravel alley close by. I pulled in there, leaped out and popped the hood again. I was pretty proud of myself. This maneuver was becoming more natural. I felt like a cat. A cat with a burning vehicle.

I opened the hood. I re-realized the whole oxygen/fire thing. You would think I would have learned from the previous incident. Apparently the whole ‘idiot light’ thing didn’t sink in, either.

So here we are, smoke continually and progressively pouring out of the valley in my engine. I reach down and grab the first thing I get my hands on, which is icy pea gravel. I pitched a healthy handful towards the menacing crevasse. Unfortunately, my aim was poor, and pea gravel scattered across the entire engine compartment. By now I see the flames licking the bottom of the engine block. I back out from under the hood and bump into my buddy, who has the beer out, and is opening one. He proceeds to dump it into the engine. The flame hissed and went silent. My buddy took no chances. He poured another onto the smoldering metal. This did the trick, and I was able to get the car home. Bad thing was, when we made it home, I only got one beer. I guess the two we sacrificed turned out to be mine.