Thu Oct  3 10:05 EDT 1996
Stop here, get gas

This morning's commute was double the time it normally is, but I
got to work relaxed and somewhat uplifted.

I got onto Route 3 and it was backed up into New Hampshire!
I got off at Exit 1 and snaked my way southward into Massachusetts
through Dunstable.  Looking out onto Rte 3 again it still looked
clogged so I continued wending my way southward to the next exit
where it looked as if Rte. 3 was beginning to move.  I got on
the highway and was able to cruise at 50 mph.

Then, I ran out of gas! and my car coasted to a stop at a rest area.
My gas guage was thought to be broken so I was going by my odometer
as to the number of miles I could go before filling up.  Fortunately,
I thought to bring my gas can this morning in the car with me - just
in case.  I fished in my breifcase because, unfortunately, I did not
think to put a funnel in the car - I rolled up three email messages
into a funnel and poured my gallon of gas in and proceeded on my way.

I stopped to fill up my tank before getting to work and a man comes up
to me as asks for 3 bucks.  He said his son didn't fill the car last
night and he needed the money for gas to get to work.  I told him that
I didn't have money but that I was filling my car by credit and would
fill his gas can for him.  He got two gallons or so, and I filled my
tank, discovering that my gas guage was now working properly and I must
have done something amiss at my last fill up to think it wasn't working.
So I had a pretty fun commute this morning.  :-)

I remember an other time that I borrowed my brother Steve's station
wagon with a killer stereo system to go visit my then-fiance-to-be-my-wife
Joy in New Jersey.  He had a tape called "Basic Camping Equipment" that
I cranked up real loud in a traffic jam.  (I'd roll up my windows today,
now that I can afford air conditioned cars.)  Anyway, I ran out of gas
THREE times on that round trip.  I think 5 of the 8 cylinders were firing
and again, my gas guage was the odometer.  The first time I had to be
pushed 6 feet to the pump.  The second time, I pushed 50 feet to a pump.
And the last time perhaps 300 feet to a pump and less than a mile from
home! (right outside the Egg and I restaurant).  But I've never forgetten
my brother's generosity; he's an incurable romantic, you know.

Now this message is out of gas....   :-)

Mark
                                  @       Mark Metcalfe, Sr. Writer
               (__)    (__) _____/         Cadence Design Systems, Inc.
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