I picked up a quirk from my daddy and it is a weird compulsion I cannot seem to stop.  Daddy had a slight obsession with tracking his gas mileage.  He would run the tank down low before filling back up.  Once Mama and I were about a hour outside of Santa Fe and I’d missed the last stop for gasoline.  I decided to press on despite having essentially no fuel.  About 45 minutes later I started to freak out.  “We’re not going to make it!” I hollered.  “We’ll be stranded in the desert with no one to help us!”  In the midst of my panicked monologue I glanced over and noticed my little mother was beginning to look nervous as we watched the sun dropping down below the mountains.  Being non gun toting Texans, I contemplated leaving Mama with our tire iron if I had to walk the 20 or so miles for gas.  I really had been almost out when we’d left Cline’s Corners.  I decided to take my anxiety internal, so as not to frighten my mother worse.  And then, incredulously, a shiny new gas station appeared like a mirage sparkling in the desert.  We were saved!  It had not been there the year before.  I began mentally comparing it with the Biblical story of Hanukkah, where the wicks of the menorah miraculously burned for eight days even though there was only enough for one day’s lighting.  I am serious — I probably had nine miles left an hour prior and was too stubborn to turn around and get gas, thinking pressing on would be OK.  The American former football player, coach, and analyst Lou Holtz said, “God looks after children, animals and idiots.”  I fear I fell into the third category on that day and I am STILL thankful we made it into town just fine.  It taught me, though, NEVER again to run on empty.