As cars go, little Emmerson was a bit timid. My previous Ford, Scout, was a big old Explorer who was brimming with confidence, loved to run, and looked on the highway as his oyster. Emmer, however, was a somewhat different story. Sometimes he got a bit uneasy when we’d be passed by some fool racing on the freeway, whipping from lane to lane, an accident waiting to happen. Whenever we’d pass an crash, I could almost feel him cringe. And you’ve noticed that I’m talking about him in the past tense. Just a week ago, one of those accidents got him. You’ve heard stories of people who have been in horrendous wrecks, but end up walking away although it looks like they should have been carted off in an ambulance. And now I’m one of those people. If Las Vegas isn’t the red-light-running capital of the world, it’s got to be… Read More »