"Hey, I remember you!"

Those were the words the tow truck operator greeted me with as he approached my disabled car Saturday afternoon.

"Jack?!" you say, "You're having car trouble?! I'm shocked!"

Just when I thought I had a car I could trust for a while my steering column breaks. OK, "breaks" is a slight understatement. First, a few weeks ago, it started getting loose. I was able to jiggle the wheel slightly. Then in the past week, it would gently roll around in a circle. I had been planning on getting it into the shop when it would start to short out the radio when I was sitting in the car a lunch and tap the wheel.

Saturday, I got in the car to head to the store during a break from work. As you leave my building you have to make a u-turn on the 6 lane major roadway, US 1. As I made the turn...the car stalled. I pulled over and tried to start the car. It would turn over but then quickly die. As the heavy traffic whizzed by me I decided to at least get the car out of traffic. As I rolled the car back into the nearest driveway I went to turn the wheel and the entire steering column began to rotate.

This was bad.

Oh, and did I mention that it was raining? Just to add insult to injury!

I got the car out of traffic and went to the nearest pay phone to call AAA. I understand the job these dispatchers have to do and also that they are in some regional call center hundreds of miles away. However, my patience drew thin as the gomer on the other end of the phone asked one insipid question after another all the time rain water is pooling in my socks. I explained the precarious location I was in and he assured me he would put my on their priority list. "Priority", in this case meant a 2 hour wait.

Two local police cars came up to check on me. With lights and burning flares they sat vigil with me. Well, from their point of view they had just scored at least an hour and a half break where all they had to do was sit in their car.

As I sat in my comatose car waiting I began to think back on my history of cars. My friend Jason says he has never, in the 12 years he has known me, known me to have good luck with cars. If had known me longer he would have been sure of an automobile curse I seem to have.

My friend Harry can tell some of the best stories about me and cars, right from the beginning. The times he and his father saved me as one thing or another would go wrong and they would laugh at my lack on knowledge of cars. Oh, they would help me and try to educate me about simple repairs but they would still laugh. There is an autograph from my friend Mike in my high school year book that makes reference to a transmission problem my car had. I drove that car into the ground basically.

I had a Ford Escort that spent so much time in a garage parking lot that a homeless guy moved into it. There was also the time, after a convention in Boston, I had to have 6 friends push the car so I could pop the clutch to get the engine running.

There was the Chrysler K-car station wagon with the hole on the floor board. I was once drove through a puddle and had it suddenly raining inside the car.

My VW bus was unique in that once the car was running a bungee cord held the stick shift in place so the transmission would stay in gear.

Our trip to Shore Leave a few years ago was memorable for being the last one taken in my last really good car, the Ford Aerostar. We had gotten no more than 100 miles away from home when a belt went which took out the A/C and then the entire engine by the time we got to Maryland.

There was the Ford Thunderbird that couldn't go more than 45 mins without a refill of the radiator.

The Cadillac with the sun-baked roof. I can't complain about that car much; it's the one that saved my life in the accident.

I should be back on the road soon. The expense of the repair will screw with Christmas a little.

Maybe Santa will read this and bring me a new car!