On time (for a change) this morning, I tried to head to my Tai Chi class. But my car battery was deader than one of the geckos my three cats chase in the back yard. My magnificent significant other, Barry, gave me a jump so I could drive to class. But we noticed something odd—my brake lights were on. Had I forgotten to turn off the headlights, too? I didn’t think so, but surely I must have forgotten, right? I mean, who ever heard of brake lights staying on all by their lonesomes?

Thankfully, my car started after class, and I drove to Whole Foods in Kahala Mall. Guess I overtaxed my luck because, after shopping, battery no work no more once again. So I called my car rescue company, who said it’d be an hour or so wait, then they’d give me a jump.

Back inside Whole Foods, I ordered a smoothie for Barry, and asked a couple of guys working there if they knew of anyone I could take my car to on a Sunday to fix the brake lights after I got a jump. The first guy said, “Nope,” but the second one, a charming fellow name of Mikey, said the same thing had happened to his wife, and she’d discovered a little round piece of rubber had broken off the brake pedal, causing the brake lights to stay on. That resourceful woman had used pennies to replace the rubber piece so the brake lights would stay off until she could get to the shop. Thank you, Mikey! I’m posting his picture here.


The jump truck from my insurance company still hadn’t arrived. So I phoned Larry’s Napa Auto in Kaimuki (aren’t smart phones great?) and told them the situation. They said Mikey was probably right, and they had the little Hundai part in stock I would need. They said they’d even change it for me. I thanked them profusely. (BTW, that same Napa shop helped me out before, when my side view mirror on the passenger side threatened to fall off. A fellow at Napa taped it back on with some Gorilla tape I purchased from him. Larry’s Napa Auto, you rock!

I returned to my car, noticing that a fellow in a truck had just pulled in close beside me. I asked him politely if he could more his truck a little further away from my Hundai so I could have some wiggle room when the jump truck arrived.

He didn’t move his truck much before he started rifling around in the back. I asked him if he lost his keys. Turns out he was looking for jumper cables to jump my car. “How kind of you. I’ve got some!” I told him, delighted. Lickety-split, he gave me a jump; gave me some bananas and tasty Ono fish, too. To my shame, I lost the piece of paper on which I’d written down the name of this kind, retired sheriff. I told him my name and he said he’d look me up on Facebook. To my rescuer: I’m here! And here’s a picture of you.

At Napa, a young man name of Matt tells me he’ll put on the part (a stoplite button) for me. I bought it, and he did just that. When I offered to pay him, he said no need. I asked him if I could at least take his picture and post his good deed on Facebook. He said yes, and I say, “Thank you, Matt!”

To Mikey, Sheriff dude, and Matt: You really made my day. Mahalo plenty!

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