It was late Sunday afternoon and my son and I were headed to the high school. I was tired but had promised him I would take him to go run sprints on the track. We got in the car and I turned the key.
Nothing.
I turned it again.
Nothing again.
Two dashboard lights blinked. And then they died.
We were dead in the water.
I looked at my watch: 6 p.m. on Sunday. Ridgeland, Mississippi has several auto parts stores. But thanks to the city’s blue laws, guess what time they had to close — You guessed it, 6 p.m. I called Walmart. Their auto department had closed at 5 a.m.
I looked at my son and could see he was disappointed. I looked at him and apologized. “Life happens, buddy,” I said as I patted him on the back.
My blood pressure began to rise as I figured out how I was going to jump the car off and get it to the dealer in the morning. My wife teaches school and has to be there at zero-dark thirty. It wasn’t an option.
I checked my phone again for other auto parts stores in the metro area. There was one in Flowood that was open until nine. I tried to see if I could jump the car off to start it. But the battery on the van was too far away for the jumper cables to reach my car.
I stopped and took a deep breath.
With the hood up, I saw that it was easy to take the battery out. So I did and took it to the auto parts store. I was 95% sure it was just the battery and not the starter — although the battery had shown no signs of being bad. So I had them test it anyway.
It was so dead that they couldn’t even get it to read on the meter.
To make a long story short, I bought a new battery, went home and installed it. I turned the key again and my car started right up.
Here’s where the perspective comes in:
The previous night, I had driven home from Oxford, Mississippi. Late. Very late. I had stopped in Grenada and Canton to buy energy drinks to wake up. We could have had the battery die at either place at midnight. And we would have been up the proverbial poop creek without a paddle.
But instead, my car luckily died in my garage. I had the knowledge and funds to fix it. And I did.
It’s not what happens to you. It’s how you react to it. A younger Marshall would have freaked out. “I can’t believe I’m missing a chance to go to the track! It’s not fair my car broke down! How dare the stores close at six.”
Instead I chose to methodically go through my options. I then fixed it and had a nice evening with my family.
It’s about solving the problem. It’s all about perspective.
