Well, i didn't make the singing in Greenville last night...but i got reminded of why i love the South.
Heading south on I-85 I stopped at Abbott's Farm Market to pick up some peach preserves for mom, a case of RC colas in glass bottles and a case of Moon Pies for my uncle's birthday, and some sodas for myself (Ne-Hi, Cheerwine, and Sundrop, also in glass bottles. have i mentioned that i have a fetish for glass bottles? no, not that kind of fetish.) After loading Dusty (my '97 Mazda 626) up with my purchases, I discovered that she wasn't starting. So I went back inside, and a guy about my age who worked there (called Z) came out to look at it for me. He and three other guys (one named Rusty) tried jumping it, with no luck. So then Z said that if I could get in and steer and he and the other guys could push it over to the top of a hill, then he could pop the clutch and get it started as it rolled down. Ten minutes later the car was broken down at the bottom of a hill instead of at the top of one. I called AAA, and they said it would take them an hour, so Jack, the middle-aged guy running the store, joked about me taking over the rest of Z's shift if i was just hanging around. Z said he was leaving with a grin that nobody believed, but when we looked out the window for him a few minutes later, his car was gone. I told them I wouldn't mind, that i'd worked a farm stand and picked vegetables in high school. They chatted me up, insisted that i try the boiled peanuts, and the peach salsa, and the peach ice cream, and get myself a drink - and wouldn't let me pay for anything. Jack asked if i'd had the cider, and i told him about the jar sitting in my car at that moment filled halfway with their scuppernong cider and half with water, because the cider was too sweet for me. He said that diluting it ruins the flavor, but he squeezes a lime into his - "here, let me get you some, i know i got a lime around here somewhere...isn't that ice cream good? you help yourself to some more peanuts, they get better the more you eat." When the tow-truck came, the driver took me over to Advance Auto Parts (the only place open at 7:30 on a friday night). AAA paid for the initial fee and the first three miles of towing, and i owed $2 for each of the two miles past that, but since i just had a ten on me and he didn't have change, he told me not to worry about it. The guy at the auto place (Jimmy) checked my battery ("that battery was dead. dead as in a doorknob dead." - i wonder if he's familiar with Doctor, Doctor). With a new battery in, the alternator tested as good, so it seemed like the battery was the only culprit. But that was odd, because it hadn't been slow to start up when i'd stopped just a few minutes before getting to Abbott's. As Jimmy was wrestling with the clamp on the negative node - it was loose because, he said, the batteries they sell have a slightly smaller negative node than the ones from mazda's factory - the clamp fell apart in his hand. "The durn thing was corroded. I'll getcha a new one, it was my fault it come apart just now so don't worry bout payin for it - it ain't but a buck anyway - but we're not supposed to do work other than directly on the battery, so don't say anything to Dave in there behind the counter." Later on the phone my dad assessed the situation as, "well, they sold you a battery you probably didn't need - if it was just the clamp that was corroding, that explains why the jump didn't work - you just had a lousy connection between the battery and the engine. when you go get your oil changed in Camden, make sure they look at the cables from the battery to the starter, the hot wires and the ground wires." [Car talk is hot. two fetishes - this one is that kind of fetish - revealed in one entry.] Still, what sounds like a disaster - my car breaking down when i'm three hours away from family in any direction - was actually a fun evening that cost me $50 (for the battery) and the chance to sing with the Greenville crowd, but it brought to my attention a problem that would only have been more expensive to fix if it'd waited til i got back to school, made me hostage of some wonderful people who force-fed me incredible taste-treats, and got me home safely to Mom's house a little earlier than I would have if things had gone as planned. Plans are overrated.
In other news, Mom and I had a fun day shopping and swapping stories and eating. It's good to be home.
Heading south on I-85 I stopped at Abbott's Farm Market to pick up some peach preserves for mom, a case of RC colas in glass bottles and a case of Moon Pies for my uncle's birthday, and some sodas for myself (Ne-Hi, Cheerwine, and Sundrop, also in glass bottles. have i mentioned that i have a fetish for glass bottles? no, not that kind of fetish.) After loading Dusty (my '97 Mazda 626) up with my purchases, I discovered that she wasn't starting. So I went back inside, and a guy about my age who worked there (called Z) came out to look at it for me. He and three other guys (one named Rusty) tried jumping it, with no luck. So then Z said that if I could get in and steer and he and the other guys could push it over to the top of a hill, then he could pop the clutch and get it started as it rolled down. Ten minutes later the car was broken down at the bottom of a hill instead of at the top of one. I called AAA, and they said it would take them an hour, so Jack, the middle-aged guy running the store, joked about me taking over the rest of Z's shift if i was just hanging around. Z said he was leaving with a grin that nobody believed, but when we looked out the window for him a few minutes later, his car was gone. I told them I wouldn't mind, that i'd worked a farm stand and picked vegetables in high school. They chatted me up, insisted that i try the boiled peanuts, and the peach salsa, and the peach ice cream, and get myself a drink - and wouldn't let me pay for anything. Jack asked if i'd had the cider, and i told him about the jar sitting in my car at that moment filled halfway with their scuppernong cider and half with water, because the cider was too sweet for me. He said that diluting it ruins the flavor, but he squeezes a lime into his - "here, let me get you some, i know i got a lime around here somewhere...isn't that ice cream good? you help yourself to some more peanuts, they get better the more you eat." When the tow-truck came, the driver took me over to Advance Auto Parts (the only place open at 7:30 on a friday night). AAA paid for the initial fee and the first three miles of towing, and i owed $2 for each of the two miles past that, but since i just had a ten on me and he didn't have change, he told me not to worry about it. The guy at the auto place (Jimmy) checked my battery ("that battery was dead. dead as in a doorknob dead." - i wonder if he's familiar with Doctor, Doctor). With a new battery in, the alternator tested as good, so it seemed like the battery was the only culprit. But that was odd, because it hadn't been slow to start up when i'd stopped just a few minutes before getting to Abbott's. As Jimmy was wrestling with the clamp on the negative node - it was loose because, he said, the batteries they sell have a slightly smaller negative node than the ones from mazda's factory - the clamp fell apart in his hand. "The durn thing was corroded. I'll getcha a new one, it was my fault it come apart just now so don't worry bout payin for it - it ain't but a buck anyway - but we're not supposed to do work other than directly on the battery, so don't say anything to Dave in there behind the counter." Later on the phone my dad assessed the situation as, "well, they sold you a battery you probably didn't need - if it was just the clamp that was corroding, that explains why the jump didn't work - you just had a lousy connection between the battery and the engine. when you go get your oil changed in Camden, make sure they look at the cables from the battery to the starter, the hot wires and the ground wires." [Car talk is hot. two fetishes - this one is that kind of fetish - revealed in one entry.] Still, what sounds like a disaster - my car breaking down when i'm three hours away from family in any direction - was actually a fun evening that cost me $50 (for the battery) and the chance to sing with the Greenville crowd, but it brought to my attention a problem that would only have been more expensive to fix if it'd waited til i got back to school, made me hostage of some wonderful people who force-fed me incredible taste-treats, and got me home safely to Mom's house a little earlier than I would have if things had gone as planned. Plans are overrated.
In other news, Mom and I had a fun day shopping and swapping stories and eating. It's good to be home.
do you miss it when you're living up in yankee central?
i sure do out in hippietown.
rc colas and moonpies, indeed.