I just want to say that if you're reading this, you're South Dakotan, and you actually can drive, mad props, bro. You're one of the few. Keep on doin' you.
I've written a post about South Dakotans and their inability to function appropriately behind the wheel of a vehicle before. I didn't, however, offer ways for South Dakotans to better themselves as drivers. It's understandable, then, that they still can't drive. I'm going to try to remedy that.
First, though, I have a question. I don't really understand the process that people go through in South Dakota to get their license. Is there actually a process? Does the State Government just send everyone their driver's license regardless of qualifications? Like, "Oh, it's your 12th birthday today*? Here's your driver's license! Good luck out there!" I honestly think that's how it works here. That's now how it should work. I feel like before someone tries to do something that could potentially lead to the death of his/herself and other people, that person should probably learn how to do said thing. There are very basic things that less than 5% of the state's population is capable of doing in a vehicle. I'll give you guys the rundown.
1. Turning, Part 1: Lanes, Part 1
When you turn, there's usually something called a "turning lane." The lane, itself, does not turn. Rather, you are to navigate yourself and your vehicle into this lane to get out of the way of people who are not turning. If you don't move into the turning lane, you're kind of just being a jerk because you're blocking people from going straight by coming to a complete stop to wait for oncoming traffic, and then turning.
2. Turning, Part 1: Lanes, Part 2
When turning onto a street that has multiple lanes in one direction, always turn into the lane closest to you. For example, if you're turning right onto a 4-lane street (two going in each direction), turn into the lane that is most on the right, or "closest to the curb," if you don't know directions. If you're not from South Dakota and you think about it, it makes sense. If you are from South Dakota, I'll explain. If you turn right and turn into the correct lane, a person who is turning onto the same road from the opposite direction can turn into his or her lane at the same time, and nobody will die. If you turn into the wrong lane, you will probably hit the other person turning and everyone involved will die.
3. Turning, Part 2: Blinkers
Literally every single vehicle that can be legally driven in towns (towns are where people live) has a blinker. A blinker, also known as a "turn signal," signals to other drivers that you are going to turn. Wait, what?! Crazy, right? You can actually tell other people that you're going to turn without actually telling them. This way, people (me) won't get mad when they're waiting for you to drive past so they can turn onto a street, only to realize that you're actually turning and not stopping them from turning at all or when you slow down for seemingly no reason and then turn. You see, it seems like there's no reason to your slowing down because you aren't signaling that you're going to turn.
4. Street Signs
These fun things are actually helpful. The point of their existence is to help you as a driver. For example, the sign that says no left turns isn't just saying that to inconvenience you. It's telling you not to make a left turn because you're going to wait there forever, because traffic is ridiculous all the time. However, when you, South Dakotan, inevitably disregard that helpful tip, you keep everyone else from properly making a right turn. And we (I) hate you for it.
5. Speed Limits
Okay, I acknowledge this one isn't just for South Dakotans, but they still need help here. Acceptable speed is +/- 5 mph of the speed limit. That's just kind of a general rule. However, a lot of times people do not adhere to his rule. One time I was literally passed in town because I was going 30 mph in a 25 mph zone, which is a HUGE no-no. Guys, passing in town (remember, towns are where the people live) is a horrible idea BECAUSE TOWNS ARE WHERE THE PEOPLE LIVE. Do you understand this? Your odds of killing someone are way higher in a town because, you know, people live there. Conversely, if you're driving 15 mph in a 35 mph zone (WHICH HAS HAPPENED AN INFURIATING AMOUNT OF TIMES) does not make you any friends. You actually lose friends when you do this, because everyone hates when you do this.
*Today I swear I saw a 12-year-old child driving a truck, which is horrifying on so many levels. Sadly, I wasn't even surprised because, I mean, South Dakota.
Showing posts with label cars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cars. Show all posts
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Maxwell Strikes Again
You guys remember my car, Maxwell, yes? How he tried to kill me while simultaneously committing suicide? Well, I'm beginning think that Maxwell doesn't like me very much because he struck again today. Here's how it happened.
I was watching some basketball on TV when, suddenly, I realized I had to poop. I got up and walked over to the bathroom only to realize that there was no toilet paper! Welp, that settled that - I had to go to Walmart to buy some toilet paper. I also had a paycheck to deposit, so I decided to make an outing of it. I put on some pants and a coat, went out to my car and started him up. Maxwell hesitated a bit, but eventually we were on our way. I went to the bank first, then to Walmart. As I was getting back into my car I thought to myself, "I'm so freaking good at going to the store, especially when I get to use the self-checkout, because I go so fast! This was such a quick stop!" Well, as I was pulling out of the parking lot, Maxwell sputtered and died. Again. I didn't really know what to do. I was stuck in the left turn lane. I decided to pop the hood so people could see I wasn't just being a jerk and not moving, but rather that something was clearly wrong with my car and I needed help. Nobody stopped. I called my roommate, Ryan, and he came to help me out. We pushed (with the help of one other guy. One other guy. I was there for like ten minutes and only one person stopped to ask if I needed help. Brookings...people (Brookians? Brookinginians?) are jerks) Maxwell to the side of the road, and Ryan tried to give him a jump. That didn't help. I called my dad. He suggested I check the oil. Good thing, because there wasn't much oil. Conveniently, I was in a Walmart parking lot. Even more conveniently, I was right behind an Advance Auto Parts store. I picked the auto store as the best place to buy some oil. I bought two quarts, at the instruction of my dad, and poured the first one in. That didn't work. I poured the second quart in. That didn't work either. I called my dad again to tell him that oil was not the problem (though it probably would've been, eventually, since there was very little of it in my car). Ryan suggested we go ask the guys at Advance if they could look at it to figure out the problem. Pretty solid idea, so we tried that. Unfortunately, there were no mechanics in at that time, but the guy behind the counter suggested that maybe I was out of gas. If you remember, Maxwell's gas gauge is broken so I guess it was possible that I ran out of gas, but I have a system. I reset the odometer after filling up every time, and I don't let it get to 300 miles. I was at 252 miles, so I was close, but I still had a ways to go. But, I had tried all the other suggestions, so I figured I might as well try this one, too. The guy said I should buy the 5 gallon gas can because something with something else...I don't know. I trusted him, though. Of course, since the 5 gallon one is the biggest one, it's also the most complicated one. Ryan took me to go fill up the gas can, but I couldn't figure out how to put the cap on. It's a two part cap where the spout goes inside the cap, then the cap goes on. It wasn't actually that hard to figure out. However, figuring out how to get the gas from the can to my tank was incredibly hard to figure out. The instructions were something like: 1. Twist green ring to the right to unlock. 2. Pump the spout. 3. Twist green ring to the right again until it locks. I don't remember what 4 was because I didn't make it that far. The green ring would not lock. Step 3 was impossible. Eventually I yelled at the gas can, "Today suuuuuuuuucks!" Conveniently, someone was walking to their car, which was next to mine, at that exact moment and asked if I needed help with something. "Ummm, yeah, actually. Do you think you can figure out how this gas can works?" I wonder how stupid that guy thought I was at that time. However, he couldn't figure it out, either, so now he probably doesn't think I'm that stupid. Ryan eventually figured it out, we got the gas in my car, and I tried starting it. It started. It was gas the whole time. I drove to the gas station, filled up, and went home. It was 4:30. I had to work at 5:00. I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO POOP. The only reason I drove anywhere was so that I could get toilet paper to poop, and I couldn't poop until I got done with work.
Maxwell's sleeping outside tonight.
I was watching some basketball on TV when, suddenly, I realized I had to poop. I got up and walked over to the bathroom only to realize that there was no toilet paper! Welp, that settled that - I had to go to Walmart to buy some toilet paper. I also had a paycheck to deposit, so I decided to make an outing of it. I put on some pants and a coat, went out to my car and started him up. Maxwell hesitated a bit, but eventually we were on our way. I went to the bank first, then to Walmart. As I was getting back into my car I thought to myself, "I'm so freaking good at going to the store, especially when I get to use the self-checkout, because I go so fast! This was such a quick stop!" Well, as I was pulling out of the parking lot, Maxwell sputtered and died. Again. I didn't really know what to do. I was stuck in the left turn lane. I decided to pop the hood so people could see I wasn't just being a jerk and not moving, but rather that something was clearly wrong with my car and I needed help. Nobody stopped. I called my roommate, Ryan, and he came to help me out. We pushed (with the help of one other guy. One other guy. I was there for like ten minutes and only one person stopped to ask if I needed help. Brookings...people (Brookians? Brookinginians?) are jerks) Maxwell to the side of the road, and Ryan tried to give him a jump. That didn't help. I called my dad. He suggested I check the oil. Good thing, because there wasn't much oil. Conveniently, I was in a Walmart parking lot. Even more conveniently, I was right behind an Advance Auto Parts store. I picked the auto store as the best place to buy some oil. I bought two quarts, at the instruction of my dad, and poured the first one in. That didn't work. I poured the second quart in. That didn't work either. I called my dad again to tell him that oil was not the problem (though it probably would've been, eventually, since there was very little of it in my car). Ryan suggested we go ask the guys at Advance if they could look at it to figure out the problem. Pretty solid idea, so we tried that. Unfortunately, there were no mechanics in at that time, but the guy behind the counter suggested that maybe I was out of gas. If you remember, Maxwell's gas gauge is broken so I guess it was possible that I ran out of gas, but I have a system. I reset the odometer after filling up every time, and I don't let it get to 300 miles. I was at 252 miles, so I was close, but I still had a ways to go. But, I had tried all the other suggestions, so I figured I might as well try this one, too. The guy said I should buy the 5 gallon gas can because something with something else...I don't know. I trusted him, though. Of course, since the 5 gallon one is the biggest one, it's also the most complicated one. Ryan took me to go fill up the gas can, but I couldn't figure out how to put the cap on. It's a two part cap where the spout goes inside the cap, then the cap goes on. It wasn't actually that hard to figure out. However, figuring out how to get the gas from the can to my tank was incredibly hard to figure out. The instructions were something like: 1. Twist green ring to the right to unlock. 2. Pump the spout. 3. Twist green ring to the right again until it locks. I don't remember what 4 was because I didn't make it that far. The green ring would not lock. Step 3 was impossible. Eventually I yelled at the gas can, "Today suuuuuuuuucks!" Conveniently, someone was walking to their car, which was next to mine, at that exact moment and asked if I needed help with something. "Ummm, yeah, actually. Do you think you can figure out how this gas can works?" I wonder how stupid that guy thought I was at that time. However, he couldn't figure it out, either, so now he probably doesn't think I'm that stupid. Ryan eventually figured it out, we got the gas in my car, and I tried starting it. It started. It was gas the whole time. I drove to the gas station, filled up, and went home. It was 4:30. I had to work at 5:00. I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO POOP. The only reason I drove anywhere was so that I could get toilet paper to poop, and I couldn't poop until I got done with work.
Maxwell's sleeping outside tonight.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Happy New Year!
Five years ago (I think. I don't really know, but I'm just going to say it's five), I went to Hastings, MN to visit my cousins, the Jacksons, over New Year's Eve weekend. Billy's parents, Evangeline and Randy (my cousins) had plans to go out for the evening, leaving the house to Billy, his little brother, Elijah, his little sister, Shayna, and myself. Billy had asked if he could have his friend, Mike, come over, too. His parents agreed, so Mike was also there. Shayna was in the living room watching movies while Billy, Mike, Elijah, and I were in the basement playing Halo for a while until, inevitably, we got bored. "Hey, let's have a snowball fight!" someone suggested. We all agreed that was a good idea, so the four of us put on our shoes and sweatshirts and went outside. We threw snowballs at each other for probably half an hour until we got bored. I mean, you can only throw snowballs for so long until it becomes monotonous. Billy's house was located right next to the highway that goes through Hastings. Naturally, we started lobbing snowballs onto the highway. At first, it was just to see if we could throw across. It was a six lane highway with a pretty wide median, and we were throwing from a few yards away, so, I mean, don't judge. It was a long toss. Someone - I don't remember who - didn't quite make it all the way across the highway and accidentally hit a car. Then the goal changed - let's see who can hit the most cars. We'd unleash a barrage of snowballs whenever a car passed the house. Once, a car pulled over to turn at the intersection that was a few yards away from Billy's house. The four of us panicked, thinking they were going to yell at us or something, so we ran to seek shelter in the Jackson's large van. We all jumped in and closed the blinds in the windows of the van, peeking out periodically to see if the people were looking for us. They weren't, so we all got out of the van. That rush was incentive enough for us to keep throwing snowballs at cars, and we continued for probably an hour and a half, retreating back to the van a few times.
We were getting ready to go back inside, but decided we'd hit just a few more. We hit one, and I saw it turn at the intersection, but didn't say anything since nothing happened the previous times a car had turned there. We had just missed a car and I was watching it drive away. In the distance, though, I saw three dark figures. I thought they were dogs, so I didn't pay them much attention. We missed another car and I watched that one drive away, too. The dark figures were closer than before and I realized they were people that were sneaking towards us. "Hey, what are those people doing?" I asked. No one knew, but we all had a bad feeling. Mike and Elijah went inside, but Billy and I decided to try to hit just one last car. We hit the very next one. To our surprise and horror, the car pulled over immediately. At that time, the people that were sneaking up on us began sprinting toward us. To this day, I have no idea why Billy and I didn't just go into the house, but we didn't. Instead, we ran behind the house and hid behind the shed in the back yard. The people trying to...attack us...? I guess I don't know what they were trying to do, but those people went around the house to try to cut us off. When we weren't behind the house, they got confused, and we ran inside the house, locked the door, and hid in Billy's parents' room because that was the farthest from the door. Then we heard a pound on the door, and Mike, Elijah, and Shayna wanted to know what was going on. Billy and I came out of the room and looked down the hall. There was a very angry looking man peering in through the window on the door. I told Billy he should answer it. "No! You answer it!"
"No way! It's your house - you answer it!" Finally, Billy and I both answered the door, and the man was livid. This was the guy who was driving the last car we hit - the one that pulled over right away. "What the f*** are you kids doing?! Throwing f***ing snowballs at my G****** car?! I could've f***ing died!" Yeah, he was kind of angry.
"Um, would you mind not swearing? My little siblings are right here..." Billy replied.
"Oh, your little siblings, huh? Well a fine f***ing example you're setting for them, huh?"
"Sir, please leave our house." At this point, Shayna's chihuahua, Sheeba, began to bark at the angry man.
"Oh, is this your dog? I'm gonna eat this f***er for dinner. I'm gonna eat your f***ing dog!"
"Please leave."
"No. I'm gonna call the G****** cops. You're gonna be in big f***ing trouble!" Billy then shut the door and we went into the living room to explain what happened. We said that the crazy guy was going to eat Sheeba. This greatly upset Shayna. Then we said that he was going to call the cops. This greatly upset Mike. He asked Billy what he was going to do. "I know!" he said, and went downstairs. Mike and I followed him. Once in the basement, Billy turned on his Xbox and started playing Halo. This didn't make Mike very happy. "Halo?! You're playing Halo?! The guy's calling the cops, and you're playing Halo. Billy! I'm gonna get in so much trouble if my mom finds out the cops got called!"
"Well, then don't let your mom find out. Easy!" Seeing that he wasn't going to win this battle, Mike went back upstairs. I sat down and started to watch Billy play. Just as Billy was about to win, Mike came storming back downstairs and turned off the Xbox. "Hey! I was just about to win!" Billy said.
"I don't care! The cops are coming and you're going to do something about it!" demanded Mike.
"Fine!"
The three of us went back upstairs, and as soon as we reached the top step, there was another knock on the door. Billy and I went to answer the door, and we saw three cop cars, four cops, the angry/crazy man, and the three people who were chasing us. Three cop cars? I was curious as to what the angry guy had said on the phone. "So, do you boys know why we're here?" one of the cops asked, trying not to smile.
"Um, because we threw snowballs at cars?" I replied.
"Yes," he said, now stifling laughter. It was clear they didn't think it was necessary that they were called about snowballs when I'm sure they were supposed to be on the lookout for drunk drivers. "Now, why were you throwing snowballs at cars?"
"Ummmmm..." Billy and I both responded.
"Thought it was a good idea at the time?"
"Yeah!"
"But it doesn't seem like a good idea now, does it?" Both of the officers at the door started laughing.
"No..." we said, both chuckling. The cop doing most of the talking then asked the crazy guy and the three people who were chasing us to come over to where we all were.
"Now, was your car damaged at all by the snowballs?" the cop asked the angry man.
"Well, no...but it d*** well could've been!"
"So, no damage was done?"
"No! But-"
"Okay. No damage," the cop said, as he motioned to the other two cops in their cars that they could leave. "And you three - was your car damaged?" These three people had been laughing the whole time because of the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Of course not! It was a snowball! We were just gonna give these guys whities and throw snowballs at them. We thought it was funny."
"Uh-huh, so no damage here either. Alright, I'm gonna take down your names and addresses," the cop said, now talking to Billy and me, but he couldn't find a piece of paper. He ripped the corner off of a used piece of paper he had and handed it to us. "Write small because there's not a lot of room." We both wrote our names and addresses and handed the piece of paper back to the cop, who folded it up and put it in his pocket. I feel like he probably threw it away as soon as he could. "Alright, you boys have a nice night, and stay out of trouble," he said, and was on his way.
When Billy and I got back in the house, we explained to everyone what had happened, and we all agreed that it would be best if nobody's parents knew what had happened.
And then I wrote about it and posted it on the internet for everybody's parents to see.
Heh, oopsies.
We were getting ready to go back inside, but decided we'd hit just a few more. We hit one, and I saw it turn at the intersection, but didn't say anything since nothing happened the previous times a car had turned there. We had just missed a car and I was watching it drive away. In the distance, though, I saw three dark figures. I thought they were dogs, so I didn't pay them much attention. We missed another car and I watched that one drive away, too. The dark figures were closer than before and I realized they were people that were sneaking towards us. "Hey, what are those people doing?" I asked. No one knew, but we all had a bad feeling. Mike and Elijah went inside, but Billy and I decided to try to hit just one last car. We hit the very next one. To our surprise and horror, the car pulled over immediately. At that time, the people that were sneaking up on us began sprinting toward us. To this day, I have no idea why Billy and I didn't just go into the house, but we didn't. Instead, we ran behind the house and hid behind the shed in the back yard. The people trying to...attack us...? I guess I don't know what they were trying to do, but those people went around the house to try to cut us off. When we weren't behind the house, they got confused, and we ran inside the house, locked the door, and hid in Billy's parents' room because that was the farthest from the door. Then we heard a pound on the door, and Mike, Elijah, and Shayna wanted to know what was going on. Billy and I came out of the room and looked down the hall. There was a very angry looking man peering in through the window on the door. I told Billy he should answer it. "No! You answer it!"
"No way! It's your house - you answer it!" Finally, Billy and I both answered the door, and the man was livid. This was the guy who was driving the last car we hit - the one that pulled over right away. "What the f*** are you kids doing?! Throwing f***ing snowballs at my G****** car?! I could've f***ing died!" Yeah, he was kind of angry.
"Um, would you mind not swearing? My little siblings are right here..." Billy replied.
"Oh, your little siblings, huh? Well a fine f***ing example you're setting for them, huh?"
"Sir, please leave our house." At this point, Shayna's chihuahua, Sheeba, began to bark at the angry man.
"Oh, is this your dog? I'm gonna eat this f***er for dinner. I'm gonna eat your f***ing dog!"
"Please leave."
"No. I'm gonna call the G****** cops. You're gonna be in big f***ing trouble!" Billy then shut the door and we went into the living room to explain what happened. We said that the crazy guy was going to eat Sheeba. This greatly upset Shayna. Then we said that he was going to call the cops. This greatly upset Mike. He asked Billy what he was going to do. "I know!" he said, and went downstairs. Mike and I followed him. Once in the basement, Billy turned on his Xbox and started playing Halo. This didn't make Mike very happy. "Halo?! You're playing Halo?! The guy's calling the cops, and you're playing Halo. Billy! I'm gonna get in so much trouble if my mom finds out the cops got called!"
"Well, then don't let your mom find out. Easy!" Seeing that he wasn't going to win this battle, Mike went back upstairs. I sat down and started to watch Billy play. Just as Billy was about to win, Mike came storming back downstairs and turned off the Xbox. "Hey! I was just about to win!" Billy said.
"I don't care! The cops are coming and you're going to do something about it!" demanded Mike.
"Fine!"
The three of us went back upstairs, and as soon as we reached the top step, there was another knock on the door. Billy and I went to answer the door, and we saw three cop cars, four cops, the angry/crazy man, and the three people who were chasing us. Three cop cars? I was curious as to what the angry guy had said on the phone. "So, do you boys know why we're here?" one of the cops asked, trying not to smile.
"Um, because we threw snowballs at cars?" I replied.
"Yes," he said, now stifling laughter. It was clear they didn't think it was necessary that they were called about snowballs when I'm sure they were supposed to be on the lookout for drunk drivers. "Now, why were you throwing snowballs at cars?"
"Ummmmm..." Billy and I both responded.
"Thought it was a good idea at the time?"
"Yeah!"
"But it doesn't seem like a good idea now, does it?" Both of the officers at the door started laughing.
"No..." we said, both chuckling. The cop doing most of the talking then asked the crazy guy and the three people who were chasing us to come over to where we all were.
"Now, was your car damaged at all by the snowballs?" the cop asked the angry man.
"Well, no...but it d*** well could've been!"
"So, no damage was done?"
"No! But-"
"Okay. No damage," the cop said, as he motioned to the other two cops in their cars that they could leave. "And you three - was your car damaged?" These three people had been laughing the whole time because of the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Of course not! It was a snowball! We were just gonna give these guys whities and throw snowballs at them. We thought it was funny."
"Uh-huh, so no damage here either. Alright, I'm gonna take down your names and addresses," the cop said, now talking to Billy and me, but he couldn't find a piece of paper. He ripped the corner off of a used piece of paper he had and handed it to us. "Write small because there's not a lot of room." We both wrote our names and addresses and handed the piece of paper back to the cop, who folded it up and put it in his pocket. I feel like he probably threw it away as soon as he could. "Alright, you boys have a nice night, and stay out of trouble," he said, and was on his way.
When Billy and I got back in the house, we explained to everyone what had happened, and we all agreed that it would be best if nobody's parents knew what had happened.
And then I wrote about it and posted it on the internet for everybody's parents to see.
Heh, oopsies.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
From Brookings, With Love
On Thursday of this past week, I finished my final exams for the last semester of my junior* year. I was pretty excited, but instantly faced with a daunting task. My dad wasn't driving out to Brookings with the van or truck to get my stuff and there was no way all of the stuff would fit into my car. Consequently, I rented a storage unit. The daunting task, then, was that I had to move all of my stuff, mostly by myself. My plan was to move it all on Friday and, depending on when that got done, go home either Friday evening or Saturday morning. Unfortunately, it rained all day Friday, so I couldn't move anything. The new plan was the same as the old one, but moved up one day. I woke up Saturday morning and noticed it was raining again. Early in the afternoon, it stopped, and I began moving some things to my storage unit. I had a few things with which I needed help, though, like my desk, my fridge, and my bed. "The desk and fridge will fit in my car," I said, audibly, to myself, because no one else was home. "I need Krsnak's Suburban for my bed, though." Mike Krsnak was one of my roommates. I waited until 6:00 for Krs to get home from work. We loaded my bed into his Suburban and then carried my desk out to my car. "Are you sure this'll fit in your car?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah - it'll fit." I was pretty confident because I had measured my back seat and the desk, and it worked out. Unfortunately, I'm no architect. I tried my best to force that desk into my back seat, but the desk was having none of that. We left the desk out, grabbed my fridge and packed it in my back seat, and drove over to the storage unit. While unloading my bed and fridge, I noticed that the sky began to look ominous again. I got a little nervous because I remembered we left my desk outside. We got back to the house, loaded the desk into Krsnak's Suburban, and drove back to the unit without a single drop of rain falling.
When I got back to the house, it was time to pack up all of my belongings that I was taking home with me. For some reason, my dad wanted me to bring my dresser home instead of just bringing all of my clothes home. I had kept all of my clothes in a giant duffel bag last year, and that worked out just fine. I took out all of the drawers and carried the dresser out to my car. I had measured my dresser, too, and decided it would fit into my back seat. Like the desk, though, the dresser had other plans, and they did not involve the back seat of my car in any way. A bit distraught, I thought I'd try to fit the dresser in the trunk of my car. No dice, but I thought I could close the trunk enough where a bungee cord would do the job. At that moment, my other roommate, Ryan Ackman, drove up and looked skeptically at the dresser in my trunk. I told him it wouldn't fit in the back seat, but he didn't accept that. He eventually got the dresser into the back seat, and as soon as he did, the thunder and lightning started. I spent the next twenty minutes sprinting in and out of my house, trying to move the rest of my stuff into my car and have a farewell conversation with Ackman simultaneously before it started to rain. I'm still impressed with myself that I managed to fit everything into my car. Before I left, Krsnak said that we were in a tornado warning. "Ha, maybe you are, but I'm leaving. No tornadoes or thunderstorms for me," I thought.
*Though this year was my third at college, I'm hesitant to call it my "junior" year, because I'm not graduating after next year. As far as graduation is concerned, this year was my freshman year.
"Oh, yeah - it'll fit." I was pretty confident because I had measured my back seat and the desk, and it worked out. Unfortunately, I'm no architect. I tried my best to force that desk into my back seat, but the desk was having none of that. We left the desk out, grabbed my fridge and packed it in my back seat, and drove over to the storage unit. While unloading my bed and fridge, I noticed that the sky began to look ominous again. I got a little nervous because I remembered we left my desk outside. We got back to the house, loaded the desk into Krsnak's Suburban, and drove back to the unit without a single drop of rain falling.
When I got back to the house, it was time to pack up all of my belongings that I was taking home with me. For some reason, my dad wanted me to bring my dresser home instead of just bringing all of my clothes home. I had kept all of my clothes in a giant duffel bag last year, and that worked out just fine. I took out all of the drawers and carried the dresser out to my car. I had measured my dresser, too, and decided it would fit into my back seat. Like the desk, though, the dresser had other plans, and they did not involve the back seat of my car in any way. A bit distraught, I thought I'd try to fit the dresser in the trunk of my car. No dice, but I thought I could close the trunk enough where a bungee cord would do the job. At that moment, my other roommate, Ryan Ackman, drove up and looked skeptically at the dresser in my trunk. I told him it wouldn't fit in the back seat, but he didn't accept that. He eventually got the dresser into the back seat, and as soon as he did, the thunder and lightning started. I spent the next twenty minutes sprinting in and out of my house, trying to move the rest of my stuff into my car and have a farewell conversation with Ackman simultaneously before it started to rain. I'm still impressed with myself that I managed to fit everything into my car. Before I left, Krsnak said that we were in a tornado warning. "Ha, maybe you are, but I'm leaving. No tornadoes or thunderstorms for me," I thought.
*Though this year was my third at college, I'm hesitant to call it my "junior" year, because I'm not graduating after next year. As far as graduation is concerned, this year was my freshman year.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Motorcar Miracle (Reunited And It Feels So Good)
I'm back in Brookings for college, now. Guess how I got here. Aww yeah - I drove. Guess what I drove. Aww yeah - I drove Maxwell. "But I thought Maxwell was dead!" you may or may not be thinking. He was dead. So dead. Let me tell you what happened.
My dad found out about this guy just outside of Cold Spring who does good work with cars, called him up to inform him of my predicament, and told him we'd bring Maxwell out for him to fix. My dad and I went out to where Maxwell was laid to rest, applied some jumper cables, and let him charge up for about 15 minutes. It was about 10 miles to this guy's shop, so we figured one minute for each mile, plus an extra five minutes, just to be safe. Well, we weren't safe enough. Ol' Maxwell died again, probably 60 yards (I'm horrible at estimating. It could very well have been 12 feet - I have no idea) away from the shop. We pushed him the final few unknown amount of unknown units to the shop, and the guy said he'd bring it to this other guy, and only charge us what he had to pay + labor. My dad was telling me he anticipated $400 in the worst-case scenario. This guy said no more than $150, which was quite reassuring. It turned out that the alternator was completely dead. The guy said the brushes no longer had brushes on them, which I would guess is bad and probably counterproductive. Since this was the case, it ended up costing me $163. Being the eternal pessimist that I am, I was a bit distraught, because he said "no more than $150." Now, I'm no mathematician, but I'm pretty sure $163 is greater than $150. On top of that, he informed me that the gas gauge and the temperature gauge were both not working. Temperature gauge...eh...I can handle that not working. The gas gauge, though? Really? That's a little problematic to not know how much gas I have. I wouldn't have been upset had he decided to fix that, too. I guess I can just refer to those failing gauges as Maxwell's battle wounds, though. It's so great to be reunited with my car!
My dad found out about this guy just outside of Cold Spring who does good work with cars, called him up to inform him of my predicament, and told him we'd bring Maxwell out for him to fix. My dad and I went out to where Maxwell was laid to rest, applied some jumper cables, and let him charge up for about 15 minutes. It was about 10 miles to this guy's shop, so we figured one minute for each mile, plus an extra five minutes, just to be safe. Well, we weren't safe enough. Ol' Maxwell died again, probably 60 yards (I'm horrible at estimating. It could very well have been 12 feet - I have no idea) away from the shop. We pushed him the final few unknown amount of unknown units to the shop, and the guy said he'd bring it to this other guy, and only charge us what he had to pay + labor. My dad was telling me he anticipated $400 in the worst-case scenario. This guy said no more than $150, which was quite reassuring. It turned out that the alternator was completely dead. The guy said the brushes no longer had brushes on them, which I would guess is bad and probably counterproductive. Since this was the case, it ended up costing me $163. Being the eternal pessimist that I am, I was a bit distraught, because he said "no more than $150." Now, I'm no mathematician, but I'm pretty sure $163 is greater than $150. On top of that, he informed me that the gas gauge and the temperature gauge were both not working. Temperature gauge...eh...I can handle that not working. The gas gauge, though? Really? That's a little problematic to not know how much gas I have. I wouldn't have been upset had he decided to fix that, too. I guess I can just refer to those failing gauges as Maxwell's battle wounds, though. It's so great to be reunited with my car!
I was a fool to ever leave your side
Me minus you is such a lonely ride
The breakup we had has made me lonesome and sad
I realize I love you
'Cause I want you bad, Maxwell
I spent the evening with the radio
Regret the moment that I let you go
Our mishap was such a way of learning so much
I know now that I love you
'Cause I need your wheels, Maxwell
Regret the moment that I let you go
Our mishap was such a way of learning so much
I know now that I love you
'Cause I need your wheels, Maxwell
Reunited and it feels so good
Reunited 'cause we understood
There's one perfect fit
And, Maxwell, this one is it
We both are so excited
'Cause we're reunited, Maxwell
Reunited 'cause we understood
There's one perfect fit
And, Maxwell, this one is it
We both are so excited
'Cause we're reunited, Maxwell
"Reunited And It Feels So Good" - Peaches & Herb, altered by Joe Russell
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Driving Dilemma (We'll Meet Again)
Okay, so, this just happened:
I was sitting at home, just watching some TV, when I got a text from a friend. The text said something like, "My house at 8:30 if you're still on break!" and I thought, "Hey, I'm still on break! This applies to me!" So, at 8:15, I headed out the door to journey to my friend's house. It takes me about 35 minutes to get to his house in Litchfield from my house in Cold Spring. I was going to be a little late, but he'd get over it. I turned on my car and noticed the battery light was on. Well, I'm no mechanic, so I just thought, "Psh, whatever, Maxwell (that's what I named my car)! You turned on, so that's all that matters!" I got out of town and was going 59 mph with the cruise control on, jamming out to some tunes on my iPod, which was plugged into my car via an auxiliary cord. I had my brights on, you know, because it was dark, and I realized that my dashboard lights were a little bit dimmer than normal. I turned my brights off, and the dashboard lights got a bit brighter. "Ha, problem solved," I thought. I continued on my way for a few more miles, and I realized I was slowing down. I thought that was pretty weird, considering the cruise control was on. Then I realized that the cruise control had turned itself off. A few seconds later, the radio turned itself off. I decided I should call my dad to inform him of my current predicament, so, pulling off to the side of the road, I made the call to my dad and explained the situation.
"Where are you?" my dad asked.
"Um, on the side of the road."
"Well, yeah, but where are you?"
"Um, I don't know." There aren't many landmarks between Cold Spring and Litchfield, and the way I go, there aren't any towns, either. I knew where I was, but I didn't know how to explain it to my dad, so I just said, "I don't know." Sometimes I think people think I'm less intelligent than I actually am because I'll do things like this, but really, I'm more intelligent than they think I am, because I know they won't understand what I'm saying, because I'm so intelligent.
"Oh, well just come back home and call me if you don't make it." I'm pretty sure the "if you don't make it," was referring to if I don't make it back to town, not if I die.
I was sitting at home, just watching some TV, when I got a text from a friend. The text said something like, "My house at 8:30 if you're still on break!" and I thought, "Hey, I'm still on break! This applies to me!" So, at 8:15, I headed out the door to journey to my friend's house. It takes me about 35 minutes to get to his house in Litchfield from my house in Cold Spring. I was going to be a little late, but he'd get over it. I turned on my car and noticed the battery light was on. Well, I'm no mechanic, so I just thought, "Psh, whatever, Maxwell (that's what I named my car)! You turned on, so that's all that matters!" I got out of town and was going 59 mph with the cruise control on, jamming out to some tunes on my iPod, which was plugged into my car via an auxiliary cord. I had my brights on, you know, because it was dark, and I realized that my dashboard lights were a little bit dimmer than normal. I turned my brights off, and the dashboard lights got a bit brighter. "Ha, problem solved," I thought. I continued on my way for a few more miles, and I realized I was slowing down. I thought that was pretty weird, considering the cruise control was on. Then I realized that the cruise control had turned itself off. A few seconds later, the radio turned itself off. I decided I should call my dad to inform him of my current predicament, so, pulling off to the side of the road, I made the call to my dad and explained the situation.
"Where are you?" my dad asked.
"Um, on the side of the road."
"Well, yeah, but where are you?"
"Um, I don't know." There aren't many landmarks between Cold Spring and Litchfield, and the way I go, there aren't any towns, either. I knew where I was, but I didn't know how to explain it to my dad, so I just said, "I don't know." Sometimes I think people think I'm less intelligent than I actually am because I'll do things like this, but really, I'm more intelligent than they think I am, because I know they won't understand what I'm saying, because I'm so intelligent.
"Oh, well just come back home and call me if you don't make it." I'm pretty sure the "if you don't make it," was referring to if I don't make it back to town, not if I die.
About a minute after I turned around, my lights turned themselves off. Like, my headlights. Like, the things that allow me to see the road/where I'm going. So, I'm driving with no lights on at about 8:30 at night. It's dark. I can't see. There were no cars on the road when I was driving towards Litchfield. On my way back to Cold Spring, though, there definitely were cars on the road. Every single car that drove by me flashed their brights at me. Yes, I am aware that my lights are off, but who's in more danger, here? You, who can see the road and see me coming because you have lights, or me, who cannot see anything because A. my lights are off, and B. you're blinding me with your stupid high beams? That's right - me. Guess what - it's now more likely that you will die, because I might veer off into your lane because I can't see. Or, I might veer off into your lane because YOU ARE BLINDING ME WITH YOUR HIGH BEAMS AND I HOPE YOU DIE.
So, that was happening, and I was trying to maneuver my way back home. Everything in my car was not working. Well, that's not true. The brakes, the accelerator, and the steering wheel still worked. Until I got back to Cold Spring. As soon as I entered Cold Spring, the accelerator and the steering wheel stopped working. "This is highly unfortunate," I thought, because those are pretty vital parts to a car. I was going down a hill, though, so I thought maybe the accelerator not working wasn't a huge deal. Then I remembered that there was a turn coming up. I have no idea how I managed to will the car around that turn since the steering wheel didn't work, but I did. The car slowly coasted to a stop as I guided it safely to the side of the road. I called my dad. He came and gave me a jump start. As soon as he pulled the cables off of my car, though, the lights started to go dim again. "Quick! Jump in and give it some gas!" implored my dad. I jumped in, but instead of giving it some gas, I accidentally stepped on the brake, which immediately killed my car. Dejected and defeated, my dad told me to grab my stuff from my car and get into his. So there Maxwell still sits, alone and cold, with dead innards. Til we meet again, Maxwell...
So, that was happening, and I was trying to maneuver my way back home. Everything in my car was not working. Well, that's not true. The brakes, the accelerator, and the steering wheel still worked. Until I got back to Cold Spring. As soon as I entered Cold Spring, the accelerator and the steering wheel stopped working. "This is highly unfortunate," I thought, because those are pretty vital parts to a car. I was going down a hill, though, so I thought maybe the accelerator not working wasn't a huge deal. Then I remembered that there was a turn coming up. I have no idea how I managed to will the car around that turn since the steering wheel didn't work, but I did. The car slowly coasted to a stop as I guided it safely to the side of the road. I called my dad. He came and gave me a jump start. As soon as he pulled the cables off of my car, though, the lights started to go dim again. "Quick! Jump in and give it some gas!" implored my dad. I jumped in, but instead of giving it some gas, I accidentally stepped on the brake, which immediately killed my car. Dejected and defeated, my dad told me to grab my stuff from my car and get into his. So there Maxwell still sits, alone and cold, with dead innards. Til we meet again, Maxwell...
Let's say goodbye with a smile, Maxwell,
Just for a while, Maxwell, we must part.
Don't let the parting upset you,
I'll not forget you, sweetheart.
Just for a while, Maxwell, we must part.
Don't let the parting upset you,
I'll not forget you, sweetheart.
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day.
Keep smiling through, just like you always do,
'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day.
Keep smiling through, just like you always do,
'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.
So I will say hello to the folks that you know,
I'll tell them you won't be long.
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go,
I was singing this song.
I'll tell them you won't be long.
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go,
I was singing this song.
After the rain comes the rainbow,
You'll see the rain go, never fear,
We two can wait for tomorrow,
Goodbye to sorrow, Maxwell, my dear.
"We'll Meet Again" - Vera Lynn, altered by Joe Russell
You'll see the rain go, never fear,
We two can wait for tomorrow,
Goodbye to sorrow, Maxwell, my dear.
"We'll Meet Again" - Vera Lynn, altered by Joe Russell
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Amish Cars
Weeeeee! Look at this new site! That's pretty neat, yeah? Yeah. It is. I kind of feel like I have to introduce myself or something, but I'm not going to do that. Actually, the fact that this is the intro for this post is a pretty good indicator that I can't think of an intro for this post.
A few months ago, my sister got a new car. There are two things wrong with that statement - 1. I don't actually know how much time has passed since she got this car, and 2. It's not actually a new car. It was a salvaged title, but when it comes to cars, 'new," to me, means, "different than the previous one," which this car is. Actually, there was no previous car... Um... My sister got a car a while ago. It's a pretty nice car. She named it Alfred, and it's black. I don't know what kind of car it is other than a black car. Named Alfred. Like I said, it's pretty nice, except it doesn't have cruise control. Or power windows. Or power locks. And the headlights are questionable at best. I was riding in it recently, and I thought, "If the Amish believed in technology and drove cars, this is the kind of car they would drive. No cruise control or power anything, and the headlights are like candles."
A time period unbeknownst to me after my sister had purchased her Amish car, my dad also purchased an Amish car. I fear that my family is slowly making the transition to Amish...ness (Amishism? Amism? Anyone?). Every time I come home from college, now, I expect to see the lights replaced with candles, a fireplace where the stove is, and the TVs replaced with etch-a-sketches. That last one would make watching the Vikings a little bit less tragic, I guess. I could just skip watching it and sketch a big "L." That would stand for loss. Because the Vikings suck and lose all the time. Boy, this post certainly changed topics pretty quickly.
A time period unbeknownst to me after my sister had purchased her Amish car, my dad also purchased an Amish car. I fear that my family is slowly making the transition to Amish...ness (Amishism? Amism? Anyone?). Every time I come home from college, now, I expect to see the lights replaced with candles, a fireplace where the stove is, and the TVs replaced with etch-a-sketches. That last one would make watching the Vikings a little bit less tragic, I guess. I could just skip watching it and sketch a big "L." That would stand for loss. Because the Vikings suck and lose all the time. Boy, this post certainly changed topics pretty quickly.
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