Greetings from Poosey.
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It was something straight out of a Laurel and Hardy movie. “Herb and Freida Get Charged Up!” We took our first ride in an electric car.
The scene: Peoria, Ill. The temperature: balmy. The reason: I’m still trying to figure that one out.
A good friend had just purchased a new Chevy Volt and the guy was so enamored with his new toy that he wouldn’t shut up unless Herb and I consented to take it for a spin. I’d been badgering Herbert about looking at a hybrid for two years and in a fit of pique he gave up and climbed in. I thought it was a perfect fit. Using only the battery for power, it’s got a range of 35 miles and I won’t let Herb go more than 10 without a chaperone. So our adventure began.
“It’s not even running, Freida.”
“Of course it’s running. You can’t hear a battery.”
“What?”
“Unless it’s in your hearing aid. Now just put in in gear and pull out.”
“That’s ridiculous. You don’t put a stalled car in gear.”
“It’s not stalled. It’s electric. You can’t hear the engine, Herb.”
“Dumbest thing I ever heard of. How can you rev it up?”
“You can’t. Just put in in gear…”
“(&*#$%, Freida! The thing was runnin’!”
“Let go of me and grab the wheel, you idiot!”
“I can hear the tires on the pavement. I knew it had to make noise.”
“Slow down, Herb!”
“I just touched it! I swear I just touched the gas pedal and it jumped into traffic!”
“That’s called instant torque, Herb. After livin’ with you for 60 years I know that what little torque you’ve got left is far from instant.”
“I feel like I’m driving a golf cart.”
“You’ve never driven a golf cart.”
“I’ve seen ‘em on television. What if we run out of gas?”
“We’re on battery power, pea brain. Once your battery runs down it’ll switch over to the gas engine.”
“Then I hope my battery’s up.”
“That’ll be the first time, lover.”
“People are starin’ at us. Ain’t that somethin’? I’ll bet they think that’s because I look so cool in an electric car.”
“Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re going the wrong way on a one-way street.”
“Dern. See? Electric cars are worthless.”
“Yeah. Consumer Reports say they cause driver dementia. Now turn this thing around before we hit somebody.”
“Look… there’s a fella offering to help. I guess these electric cars get attention.”
“Lot’s of it. Especially from men in uniform. Herb, he wants you to pull over.”
“I can’t find the brake.”
“It’s in the same place as our Honda.”
“But the Honda’s back in the parking lot!”
“You idiot! It’s right there!”
I don’t know how to work an electric brake, Freida!”
“You step on it, numbskull!”
“Step on it?”
“Yes!”
And we whizzed away, right by the slightly dazed member of the Peoria police force. Herb and I got back to the parking lot before they could find us. That’s the good news. The not-so-cheery news is that the cop got our friend’s license plate number and he spent a long hot Peoria afternoon explaining his friends from Poosey.
My advice: An electric car is a great idea a good for the world. A husband with a dead battery is good for nothing.
You ever in Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.