[Madly waving hand trying to get someone's attention.] Pick me! Pick me! Is it my turn yet? Can I tell my burn story? I can? Oh good...
About 6 years, I was driving the '54 DeSoto downtown for an appointment. This landlocked ocean liner of iron, chrome and sheet metal had an early version of power steering so this was not as difficult as it sounds.
With the small city blocks in downtown, one could never be sure the rear-end would make the last corner before the front end started turning at the next. We had an intercom system for anyone in the back seat needing to communicate with the driver. But I digress....
As I was saying, heading downtown in the shark-toothed bomber and turning a corner, I observed a green waterfall spontaneously emerge from the passenger side heater duct only to watch it abate as the car regained its composure and ceased behaving like an aggressive catamaran changing direction ("Come Alee! No, Tack! Tack!")
As I turned into the parking lot, a much more impressive mini-eruption of green magma shot forth. Realizing that the heater was sucking up the anti-freeze in the radiator, I did some impromptu investigating under the hood. At least one hose needed tightening, so I got out a trusty screwdriver and tightened.
As I pulled an arm out from the confines of the engine compartment, the jacket caught the clamp of another loose hose. The hose broke lose, bonding to the jacket and following my retreating arm, spraying anti-freeze all over my face.
Fortunately, I was going to a doctor's appointment and was parked in their parking lot. It was one of the few afternoon M.D. appointments in my life that required no prior stay in the waiting room. A most unenjoyable afternoon. |
