Road Trip

Big business sent me to Baltimore at the end of last week. Everything was going along so well, highway-wise, until the dashboard gas tank signal lit up and I had to get off as soon as I hit Maryland to look for gas. The local Hertz does this to me every time and yet, I’m never prepared for it. They send their cars out with only a half tank and by the time I realize it, I’m out of New Jersey and  in some God-forsaken wasteland where you have to pump your own gas. This time, I made it as far as Maryland.

Anyway, one thing led to another and there was a Chick-Fil-A and before I knew it, I was 45 minutes behind schedule and I couldn’t get the navigation device to resume my route so I plugged the destination in again and spend the rest of the trip on secondary highways and neighborhood streets. streets. This really slowed me down but what a great silver lining there was here:

A local rock station did a live broadcast of Elton John performing at the Verizon Center in Washington DC. Sir Elton! I love calling out knighted rock stars – Sir Paul! Sir Mick! The world has come along way away from Sir Galahad and sir Walter Raleigh. Anyway, the concert started and there he was banging  out the oldies in a theatrically deep voice. I got all misty eyed when Burn Down The Mission started up. It was almost like listening to the live broadcast that became the 11-17-70 album, except now Sir Elton sounds like Michigan J. Frog.

Michigan_J_FrogSomebody YouTubed some of that performance. The images in the video aren’t great so you might as well look at the frog while you listen.


4 thoughts on “Road Trip

  1. In my rental car experiences they start you out with a full tank of gas and by golly you better return it with a full tank of gas or they charge you about double the price of gas to top it off for you. Bad, Hertz, bad. 😉

  2. So, if they send the car out with half a tank of gas, what’s up with having to return it full? What happens to the other half?

  3. Having lived in Wisconsin all my life, I’ve always had to pump my own gas. Actually I got married so I don’t have to do that anymore. That’s “his” job. Anyway, I’m not sure I’d want it any other way. I don’t want some gas station employee fooling around with my car.

  4. After college I spent a year pumping gas at a Mobil station because my parents didn’t want me hanging around the house while I waited to be drafted to SE Asia.

    So pumping gas brings back memories of my youth, caught in limbo between 60s indulgences and adult reality.

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