Most of my Sunday was spent in Fort Seneca (snuggled in the corn fields between Fremont and Tiffin) standing beside my overheated car. My drive from Port Clinton was cut short when my car overheated.
I've never had a problem like that before, G. Jonah figured it was a need for coolant, so we braved the tough streets of Fort Seneca and waited 50 minutes for my parents to rescue us. The streets really weren't so mean, just deserted. In the town of about 50 homes, 5 people stopped by to ask if we needed help.
When I left my home town of Wauseon (population 7,000) I swore off small towns forever. But Fort Seneca made me remember that there is something positive to be said for small towns-- People are friendly and willing to lend you tools or give you a ride to the closest gas station about 15 minutes away.
My parents arrived before a sunburn set in and found my vehicular problems were much more expensive than coolant. The verdict is out, but early predictions say I blew a head gasket. I don't even know how you blow a head gasket but it sounds expensive.
I guess things could be worse. One good Samaritan (whose yard my car is still probably in) said it was a good thing I stopped when I did. I didn't blow the engine or warp the head (whatever that it) so I don't need a new car.
So this week I'm going to be a hippie and walk everywhere and lecture everyone on the evils of depending on foreign oil and global warming.
But as soon as I get my car back I'm driving everywhere, staring with a trip to my mailbox.
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