Well, I followed up my week of triumph as Wacoan of the Year with a day of total impotence. No, I'm not shooting blanks, I'm referring to the feeling of total powerlessness that comes along with a dead battery in my car's keyless entry remote.

I've gotten so completely dependent on getting in and locking my car via remote that I've forgotten how to do it any other way. It's pathetic. Try doing without it sometime. It's not fun; you'll quit.

When I sat on the bench played football in high school, my coach always used to tell us that we had to do our drills over and over and over again to create "muscle memory." Then I heard it again in a theatrical context when going through rehearsals. Well my muscles have completely forgotten how to use a key to get into a car. It's been since college that I've had to do that.

This morning, as I approached my car, I pushed the button to unlock the doors. I didn't hear the familiar click. I pushed the button again. Nothing happened. I stood six inches away from the car door, pointed the remote at the lock, and pushed again. Still nothing happened. I stood there, frozen, for a moment as I contemplated how to get into the car. I found the right key, held it up towards my face to examine its mysteriousness, and then awkwardly inserted it into the lock. Of course, I turned it the wrong way first, then I unlocked the door.

I opened the door and realized that I actually needed to unlock the rear door to deposit my bag. I paused again, my mind having to convince the rest of me that I could accomplish my goal by just pushing the unlock button on my actual door and that the door wouldn't lock behind me. The whole process was so surreal. It was like trying to do something that I'd only seen done before on TV. Like the time I taught myself how to drive a stick shift rather than suffer through my father teaching me how to drive all over again. But that's another story.