My day started with finding out that I'd let my car battery run down, so I spent the morning dogsbodying around finding the battery charger, finding an extension cord, trying to decide if it was OK to have the charger almost tipped so its cord could reach the extension cord, battling the apple tree because I'd parked Right. Under. It. the night before, debating whether I should mess around with the fuses which would involve disconnecting the battery, wondering why the charger wasn't reading a charge after I hooked it up to my car battery, trying to keep the kids from burying their faces under the car hood so the battery could discharge acid into their eyes, arguing with myself over whether I should just change my clothes before I do anything more drastic on the car (like take out the battery and switch it with the battery in the 1970 Chrysler), et hoc genus omne, until I finally got ahold of Matt on his train up to the Range and he recommended that instead of grounding the black clamp, I should put it on the negative terminal of the battery.
Do wha-wha? And risk exploding the Earth? He was pretty cavalier about the possibility of world destruction, so I tried it, and the car started right up. That was the most remarkable thing that happened to me today, which tells you a lot right there.