T
he summer of 2008 will be remembered by most Americans as the summer gas prices went through the roof. For James and I, it was the summer of guessing how far we'll go on whatever gas we might actually have in the tank. When your car averaged 16 miles per gallon when it was new (17 years before) and is now averaging 10 on a good day, $5.00+ per gallon gas on a limited income gets to be a dicey situation.
Needless to say, James spent more time than he deserved on the side of the road and I did more than my fair share of walking to the filling station to spend my pocket change on enough gas to (hopefully) get us home that day.
But the great thing about James: when I really needed him to, when I coaxed and loved him along ... when the chips were down, he came through. Each and every time! So when we were late to work a time or two because we ran out of gas, I didn't complain.
By the summer of 2009, gas was back down to an almost reasonable price but my gas mileage was getting worse and worse. Now James was 18 years old. Now he had ... well, maybe 200,000 miles ... we don't know, because one day his odometer just set itself back about 50,000 miles for no apparent reason. On top of that, his acceleration was decreasing and from time to time dark smoke billowed out his tailpipe. "Oh James, please hang on."
While at the Midas station to get an oil change they diagnosed the problem. James' fuel pump was about to go. So once again I dropped every penny I had to get him back up and running. And after the fuel pump was in, he ran great! For about three days.
I had to go out of town for a series of comedy gigs in New Jersey, but my neighbor took James to his own mechanic as a favor and discovered ... that the fuel pump had been installed incorrectly. Oh ... and because of that, we had about another $1600 worth of repair that would need to be done. I didn't have the money ... but no matter ... I loved James and you'll do whatever you have to for those you love, right? Somehow or another, we got it payed off and James was back up and running. All you can truly wish for your loved ones is health, and for James, he had it ... so long as I didn't mistreat him.
In February of 2011 my life once again spiraled out of control. I didn't have a home or a family, but I had my splendid red engine. In fact, he became my home and a place I felt safe (and could sleep). I had a reclining driver's seat to nap in and somebody who was actually deserving of my affection, even if others might consider him a twenty year old hunk of scrap metal. In March, with no other choice, James and I went on our last adventure ... a comedy gig in Savannah and, if luck could stay with us, a final trip to Texas. That was a lot of miles for a 20 year old Blazer! So with a shiny new radiator installed, off we went to Georgia for what turned out to be an excellent gig ... followed by a horrible tragedy.
Protective of James and concerned about money (we hadn't made as much at the gig as we had hoped) I decided to head back north to Wilmington. We would go to Texas on another day. Thirteen miles across the South Carolina border it happened: a sudden, loud 'thunk' and we lost all power. I knew immediately what had happened ... James had thrown a rod. With less than $200 to my name, I did the calculations: $200 to tow it to the next town, several hundred more (if not a thousand) to rebuild the motor ... there was no other choice ... this would have to be the end.
I spent the night trying to sleep in James on the side of the highway waiting on my friend Kyle to come and get me (and all of my meager possessions, which were in the backseat) and at the advice of a State Trooper, we would leave James by the side of the road. I had no other choice. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do ... but I had been doing the last thing in the world I wanted to do a lot lately. For the six and a half hours I sat in James for the last time, I talked to him, thanked him ... and wept. He was my best friend ... and there was nothing I could do to save him.
Kyle arrived and we unloaded James and put everything in Kyle's car. I fought back tears in the early morning hours. Then, with everything unloaded and ready to say goodbye one last time, I grabbed one of James' hubcaps (more of a lug-nut cover, really) and vowed to keep it with me always. A memento from Jamesy-James ... my spendid little red engine.
That hubcap now hangs on my wall ... and I will keep it with me always. If told that I could only keep one thing in my house, and everything else would be destroyed, I think I'll grab it first. Because so long as I have it, I'll have a little piece of James with me as well.
he summer of 2008 will be remembered by most Americans as the summer gas prices went through the roof. For James and I, it was the summer of guessing how far we'll go on whatever gas we might actually have in the tank. When your car averaged 16 miles per gallon when it was new (17 years before) and is now averaging 10 on a good day, $5.00+ per gallon gas on a limited income gets to be a dicey situation.Needless to say, James spent more time than he deserved on the side of the road and I did more than my fair share of walking to the filling station to spend my pocket change on enough gas to (hopefully) get us home that day.
But the great thing about James: when I really needed him to, when I coaxed and loved him along ... when the chips were down, he came through. Each and every time! So when we were late to work a time or two because we ran out of gas, I didn't complain.
By the summer of 2009, gas was back down to an almost reasonable price but my gas mileage was getting worse and worse. Now James was 18 years old. Now he had ... well, maybe 200,000 miles ... we don't know, because one day his odometer just set itself back about 50,000 miles for no apparent reason. On top of that, his acceleration was decreasing and from time to time dark smoke billowed out his tailpipe. "Oh James, please hang on."
While at the Midas station to get an oil change they diagnosed the problem. James' fuel pump was about to go. So once again I dropped every penny I had to get him back up and running. And after the fuel pump was in, he ran great! For about three days.
I had to go out of town for a series of comedy gigs in New Jersey, but my neighbor took James to his own mechanic as a favor and discovered ... that the fuel pump had been installed incorrectly. Oh ... and because of that, we had about another $1600 worth of repair that would need to be done. I didn't have the money ... but no matter ... I loved James and you'll do whatever you have to for those you love, right? Somehow or another, we got it payed off and James was back up and running. All you can truly wish for your loved ones is health, and for James, he had it ... so long as I didn't mistreat him.In February of 2011 my life once again spiraled out of control. I didn't have a home or a family, but I had my splendid red engine. In fact, he became my home and a place I felt safe (and could sleep). I had a reclining driver's seat to nap in and somebody who was actually deserving of my affection, even if others might consider him a twenty year old hunk of scrap metal. In March, with no other choice, James and I went on our last adventure ... a comedy gig in Savannah and, if luck could stay with us, a final trip to Texas. That was a lot of miles for a 20 year old Blazer! So with a shiny new radiator installed, off we went to Georgia for what turned out to be an excellent gig ... followed by a horrible tragedy.
Protective of James and concerned about money (we hadn't made as much at the gig as we had hoped) I decided to head back north to Wilmington. We would go to Texas on another day. Thirteen miles across the South Carolina border it happened: a sudden, loud 'thunk' and we lost all power. I knew immediately what had happened ... James had thrown a rod. With less than $200 to my name, I did the calculations: $200 to tow it to the next town, several hundred more (if not a thousand) to rebuild the motor ... there was no other choice ... this would have to be the end.
I spent the night trying to sleep in James on the side of the highway waiting on my friend Kyle to come and get me (and all of my meager possessions, which were in the backseat) and at the advice of a State Trooper, we would leave James by the side of the road. I had no other choice. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do ... but I had been doing the last thing in the world I wanted to do a lot lately. For the six and a half hours I sat in James for the last time, I talked to him, thanked him ... and wept. He was my best friend ... and there was nothing I could do to save him.
Kyle arrived and we unloaded James and put everything in Kyle's car. I fought back tears in the early morning hours. Then, with everything unloaded and ready to say goodbye one last time, I grabbed one of James' hubcaps (more of a lug-nut cover, really) and vowed to keep it with me always. A memento from Jamesy-James ... my spendid little red engine.That hubcap now hangs on my wall ... and I will keep it with me always. If told that I could only keep one thing in my house, and everything else would be destroyed, I think I'll grab it first. Because so long as I have it, I'll have a little piece of James with me as well.
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