The 2.12 Solution
I learned to drive in a 1972 VW "Super Beetle." Just tooled around with it today and he ran like brand new.
It wasn't like that in the preceding weeks. He was sputtering and hesitating and killing at stop lights, and it was getting bad enough that I had the notion to get a tune up for him, as it as been several years, but not so many miles (stored mostly).
It occurred to me that I used to replace the fuel filter every so often in the olden days. Then I realized that it has probably been 10 years since it was last changed.
The fuel filter for a '72 Bug is a clear plastic bowl with teats at both ends to accept the in and out fuel lines.
I thought to see if I could find one anymore.
Turns out, the parts store closest to my house had them, as people use them on small engines these days.
$1.99 + tax = $2.12.
I had the credit card out, expecting to get reamed -- I am used to that -- but I had 12 cents and 2 dollar bills.
A quick disconnecting and spilling a bit of gas on my hands and a quick replacement and what the heck, let's see what happens.
What happened was that the Bug could breathe again and it rewarded me with that old Swiss Watch performance.
Point is, sometimes simple works.
The whole falderal about our deployment in the Middle East is so needlessly complicated. Just blow up things, kill people. Americans used to "get" that.
Instead, our involvement has become a Gordian Knot. Were it only possible to snip it off with a $2.12 pair of scissors.
Well, simple simply ain't gonna happen. That's why the participants and readers of the promising blog need to fight.
It would be neat to be able to park my bright yellow Bug on the triangle this Saturday, but I've run askance of the System too many times and I can't afford any more trouble. On the other hand, the only thing that hasn't happened to me is being lined up before a firing squad.
Well, maybe I could park it somewhere and drag out some of my old Gene McCarthy daisy stickers and show those bastards who the real free thinking ex-pot smoking free-thinkers are. It surely isn't them. It surely isn't (all) of us. Me? I've got my street cred, thank you very much.
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