Perversity

How many times have you found yourself in a low battery situation, desperately trying to conserve that last little feeble trickle?

On the other hand, have you ever tried to run down a battery? They cling to life like Lillian Hellman’s turtle. (See Pentimento.)

I took the damn thing out and rode all over the top of this hill, seeking the steepest upgrades at maximum speed and deliberately going very slowly on the downgrades so as not to accidentally commit any regeneration. I must have gone a full mile and still the indicator showed a full charge.

But then, figuring that I must have expended enough energy for my testing purposes, I went for it: Down Noe to Bell Market.

As is almost always the case, there was some ambiguity. No, it did not slow me to a virtual stop as before, but the governor did, to some degree, still hold me back more than I liked. And no, I have not become a speed-crazed maniac because I must admit that there were also a few occasions when my own terror reaction kicked in before the governor did.

So I feel somewhat better about this issue even though nagging doubt remains. At Bell, though, I picked up a really fine nagging doubt remedy, one of their excellent fried chicken breasts, a great bargain at $1.59 and one that can be rushed home in a separate bag for consumption while still hot. Separate from what? Well, from the half gallon of Kern’s divine Peach Nectar out of the refrigerator case, a recent discovery that doesn’t have quite as many calories as, say, a chocolate milk shake.

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