My Electronic Curse Continues

When I was 20 and had nothing to do but play Hot Shots Golf all day on PS2, I conspired with my best friend, Rob, to go see a psychic. We were bored, had an extra $30 in our pockets, and decided the best use of our time and talent would be to go see a woman named Mrs. Heaven who told fortunes out of her house in Northern Michigan.

We were a bit skeptical, probably a little mad, but we went. She told me a lot of things that were very descriptive, specific, amongst other things, which leads me to believe she has some sort of special talent.

One thing she told me has stuck with me until this day.

She told me that I had one of the strongest electronic auras she'd ever seen -- for the worst. She said that I had a strong negative electronic vibe around me that causes electronic equipment that I come into contact with to go crazy. She confirmed the notion that I have long thought to be true.

I could fill up an entire blog of instances where electronic equipment failed me, stumped technicians, and baffled onlookers. I could also provide you with a host of witnesses of my electronic madness (Julie, Dave), but instead, I'd like to offer you a brief story of my latest adventure.

My Aztek (pictured here) started having problems about 2 months ago. The right blinker works intermittently, and the left brake light is always out. This was only a minor nuisance, until my battery kept going dead. I took it to get serviced, had a major electronic switchboard replaced for a cool $450, and had the same problem happen one week later. I took it back to the shop, they replaced the part again (for free, it was under warranty), and all was well... for 24 hours. I climbed in the Aztek this morning, and realized that my odometer doesn't work. It's kind of nice not knowing how fast you're going or how many miles you've traveled. I called the mechanic and he says it's one of the most bizarre electronic cases he's ever seen. He urged me to bring it in on Monday, and he'd personally drive it to an electronic specialist to get to the bottom of the cause. He's the head mechanic at a very respected car shop, and he can't figure out the problem.

I wish I could tell him what the problem was. He probably wouldn't believe me, though. Perhaps Mrs. Heaven would be willing to take a road trip down to my mechanic and let him know that he's better off saving his time. Do psychics make house calls?