Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Kindred Spirits

The more I drive Tank, {or Beast as some refer to him}, the more attached I find myself feeling. We're like kindred spirits - he speaks to my innermost depths and crevices of self-identity. Allow me to elaborate:



1.  The fan squawks randomly and obnoxiously and I find myself compensating for the irritating opposite of silence by turning up the voices in my head {or the radio, whichever is more entertaining at the moment}. LOML told me, when I questioned him, that the irritating noise cannot be heard outside the blue metal framework. That knowledge was a relief on the one hand but is a little disconcerting the more I think about it. Of course, it means that any strange looks I get from people cannot be blamed on the noise. Dang! I guess I'm going to have to quit singing along to the radio at such a high volume.



2.  The trip-o-meter has slowly quit working. First it started getting stuck when there were lots of 9s. So it would stick at 99.9 and 199.9. It would start up again after going another 50-60 miles down the road. I felt pretty clever when I figured out its little trick. But, then it began to lose its accuracy. It was moving at a slower pace than Tank so even though it maintained a consistent rhythm, it wasn't giving Tank credit for all the miles he had actually traveled. Finally in a last ditch - albeit pointless - effort to revive itself, the trip-o-meter decided to go backwards. I'm now driving in some time warp where I may be gaining ground on the overall journey while not ever reaching any of the destinations in between. Interesting concept.



3.  Not knowing the accurate miles Tank has traveled is frustrating on another level, too. I was using the trip-o-meter to alert me of Tank's need for fuel. Forget the fact there is a gas-o-meter on the dash comprised of a little half circle image with an 'E' on one end and an 'F' on the other end and an arrow that fluctuates between the two letters. In theory, the arrow moves from the 'E' to the 'F' when I'm putting gas into Tank's tank and it moves from the 'F' to the 'E' if I'm driving down the road, using gas out of Tank's tank. When the arrow gets close to the 'E', theoretically speaking again, that should be my clue that Tank needs a fill up. Yeah, well, when Tank's gas-o-meter reads 3/4 full, it's time for a fill up {gas, that is, not Max}.



4.  Tank seems to enjoy trying to confuse me. I have finally deduced that Tank is a South Paw. So, keep in mind, if you're following me and Tank is continuously winking at you with his left blinker,  rest assured, it's an omen. I will eventually turn left. Eventually. Until then, my village has an APB out for their idiot.



I hope I don't ignore the soft, subtle sounds while I'm trying to shut out the world's obnoxious, random squawking and I'm afraid my life-o-meter keeps getting hung up on little inconveniences so I'm not sure I've reached very many little destinations in this Journey of mine - maybe because I keep forgetting to keep my personal Tank full of the right kind of Fuel. And, yeah, if you are from my village and are looking for me, don't give up. I'm turning left somewhere and if you turn left enough, you eventually come full circle. Right????

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