The other day I was driving to Iowa City to visit my girlfriend for the weekend. There I was, on I-74, enjoying the fabulous nature of my mix CD when I look down to notice that my low fuel light is on. Whoops. I toggle the display to show "Distance Till Empty" and discover that I have 30 miles worth of gasoline left. Ok, I should have no problem making it to a gas station. I cruise on...
What's that? I hear my cell phone ringing.
"Hello?"
It's my girlfriend. We chat. She doesn't believe that I am really driving to Iowa (it had been a surprise). She was pleased. Good stuff. We finish our conversation just as LCD Soundsystem's "Tribulations" comes across my speakers. I turn up the volume and sing along...
"0 DTE" - I read this startling message on my car's LCD display and nearly drove off the highway.
"Holy Shit! Where am I? Where is there gas? Where's my AAA card? How long will this take? How far will I have to walk for gas?"
In a slightly rational panic, I adjusted the display to show estimated miles per gallon as I let off the cruise control and tried to get the most mileage for every remaining molecule of gasoline. A billboard told me there was an exit at mile 159.
"Where am I? Ok, ok, ok... damn! mile 162! 3 miles away! I don't have 3 miles! I have 0!"
I start to calculate how long it would take me to walk the 6 mile round trip. My car keeps moving, and it doesn't seem to be slowing. My thoughts drift, and I find myself starting to sing along once again, only at a much more subdued and unconcious level.
"What am I doing? Singing? I'm about to run out of gas! What's that? The exit ramp! I made it!!"
I inch up the exit ramp, searching for the gas station. I don't see one. The exit is desolate. Just then, the helpful little blue sign says: Conoco, Left, 1 mile.
"1 more mile! And there's a stop sign! I'll never have enough gas to re-accelerate! My car will die right there, then slowly roll back down the ramp and onto the highway and into traffic! Death awaits!!!!"
I stop. I accelerate. I coast down the hill. I pass driveways leading to rural houses with giant front yards. It was the longest mile of my life.
Finally, I see my salvation, gleaming red and yellow in the late afternoon sun. I slowly bring my car to a stop next to a pump. I breathe a sign of relief. I realize that the multitude of media options in my car distracted me from what was most important at that moment in time: getting more gas. I had never felt so uselessly oversaturated by media in my life.
Then I turned up the radio and started singing.