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By Ralph SeeramI do not like to drive my son’s sport car. First it’s too fast for me. You touch the accelerator, you think you are driving 40 mph when in reality you are doing 70 mph. Sorry the US does not deal in metric. It’s a red sports car so it’s a magnet for traffic cops; the only difference here is the police will never dare solicit a bribe in lieu of giving you a ticket.He or she will be very courteous and hand you your ticket will a smile, and explain your rights to contest it. Anyway back to my son’s car.It is very low, so you have to stoop to get in. You would think you are actually sitting on the road, waiting for the bottom to be shaved from under you. It has too many fancy lights and dials, one telling you that the car has the ability to do 180 mph. You would think it was the controls of a plane instead of a car, I can’t understand why the need for so many controls and information about the car performance.  But maybe I should have paid attention to those instruments on the dashboard. One was telling me about the danger ahead, but I failed to observe.I have a Sports Utility Vehicle, a Toyota Forerunner to be exact. It gives me no problem except for the normal wear and tear. My mentality is fill it with gas and once it moves it’s okay, until I noticed that shifting gears was a little stiff. I made this observation known to my son, who in turn asked me when last I changed my transmission fluid.“I can’t remember” I replied. I always think of oil change, not of changing transmission fluid. “Which year you changed the fluid?” he inquired.“I can’t remember,” was my reply.I was ordered to have my transmission fluid changed immediately, and he generously agreed to loan me his sports car while mine was in the repair shop.So here I was cruising on my way home in his car one afternoon this week, when I came to a traffic light stop, at one of the busiest intersections in Orlando. I stopped, waiting for the green light; the green light came on; I heard a rumbling noise then everything thing went dead. The computer shut down everything in the car.I could not move. I took the key out and tried to restart the motor, nothing, not a sound. I attempted to put on my hazard light to warn oncoming motorists that my car was stationary; too many instruments and buttons. I can’t find it.Now I have a problem. Stay in the car and call for assistance? This has its danger as on a busy road like that it is not a matter of if, but when someone will crash into me. Did I mention it was night also? Cars were now speeding by me 50 mph to 60 mph, both to the left and right of me. If I open the door and attempt to exit the car, I risk being hit by oncoming traffic.I kept remembering reading of similar incidents when persons were killed in the exact situation. Cars were now swerving to avoid hitting my car I sensed the real danger so I decided to abandon the car when the next red light stops the traffic, on stepping out I heard two voices in unison shouting, “You need help?”I sure needed all the help I can, so I signaled them to come over. They risked the oncoming traffic and came over. These two total strangers started to devise a strategy to remove the car from the real danger of someone crashing into it. It was a danger not to us but to other drivers. The solution was to push the car backwards a little uphill for about 200 feet to the nearest gas station. This presented its own challenges. Now we are going against oncoming traffic in the dark.Suddenly we saw a motorist stop in one lane on our left with his hazard lights on, blocking the traffic on our left, and then another driver came immediately behind us with his warning lights on for the oncoming traffic. Now we have two lanes blocked for us to push the car back safely. However the danger was now shifted to the two unknown drivers who are risking their lives shielding us from the oncoming traffic. My two rescuers pushed and pushed to the point of exhaustion.If you want to get a good workout and lose weight try pushing a car. Finally we found sanctuary in the parking lot of the gas station. The two drivers that protected us drove off; I did not get to thank them. My two good Samaritans inquired if I am okay now and before I can thank them and offer to quench their thirst, they disappeared into the night,Cheap Jerseys, and I never got their names.There are still good hearted people in this world of ours.My son turned up, I asked him when was the last time he checked his battery? He did not know, nor could he remember when he purchased the battery. He too never paid attention to all the fancy instruments. If he did he would have discovered his battery was not charging.Ralph Seeram can be reached at email: [email protected]