Retired, but still retarded

This has already happened a couple of times this summer, but I guess Fate wanted to make sure that they were all done before fall. Last Thursday I got another flat while out on the route. It was mostly my fault; I had been driving on a slow leak for a lot longer than I should have been, and the tire finally had enough and gave out. As always, though, it had to happen at the least convenient time possible.

It was around 0400-0430 when it happened. I managed to limp Victor to a local convenience store, because I needed a phone book. I had taken mine out of the car recently for some reason, and I didn’t know the names of any local tire shops off the top of my head. As you may remember, I still had the subwoofer in the trunk blocking any possible use of the spare.

Around 0530 a store clerk showed up. I grabbed their phone book, and started calling tire places, none of which opened until 0800. I talked to the messaging service person at one place, and got myself an appointment for a tow and tire replacement as soon as they opened.

I did get a good nap in while I was waiting.

Finally, around 0900, the truck pulled in. Victor was hauled up onto the flatbed, and away we went. We arrived, and it took 3 of the employees to figure out how to get Victor jacked up so the bad tire could be removed. After another hour, I had a new tire, and was on my way, finishing the day’s route by noon or so.

This left one tire that hadn’t yet been replaced this summer. I wasn’t worried about it because it was still a good, solid tire; no cord was even showing yet. This little factoid was not enough, however, to prevent me from hitting a damn nail in the road during the route on Saturday evening around 1800. Saturday evening. What tire place is going to be open? Besides none, that is. I limped Victor back to another convenience store in the area, and sat for a while trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

Finally, I discovered that when in times of sheer desperation, I am in fact able to get the spare out of the trunk, despite the oversized subwoofer. One problem solved. The next was actually getting the wheel off of the car once I removed the lug nuts. It seems that the aluminum rim likes to bond to the car after a while, and it takes a few good whacks with a mallet to get it off. A mallet I did not, and still do not possess. An area police officer stopped to give me a hand, making me realize that at least one cop in this area doesn’t suffer from total C.R.I.S. The sheriff’s deputy who also stopped by was a different matter, though. “Can’t get the wheel off? Didja take off the lug nuts? Oh, you did. Must be some kinda problem, then.”

Once the wheel was removed, it was an easy matter to get the spare on and I was once more a mobile kinda guy. The following Monday morning, this week actually, I got another new tire, so my spare tire is once more a spare tire. Never mind the fact that I’ve been paranoid enough since then to drive with the spare in the back seat for easy access.

Wow, two entries in two days! Whoda thunk it? Feels good to be writing again. I just wish I knew when the next entry will occur.

Repaved and retarded

No, I’m not apologizing for using the word “retarded.” I don’t care that it’s politically incorrect. I’ve explained often enough that I’m not politically correct either. I’m also politically unaware, and socially conscience-less, to coin a phrase. I’m not, however, as crabby as this first paragraph makes me seem. Or at all, even. I’m just being Me. +evil grin+ Besides, when I use the word ‘retarded’ here, it’s to describe situations, not people. So there.

Enough stuff has happened lately that I feel I can write an entry, so where should I begin? Be advised, folks. This may be a long one. As it stands, I may have to split this up into two entries, one today, and one tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be fun? So . . . As I look over the past few entries I’ve written (wow, only six in two months) I see that I haven’t mentioned my oil pan. I’ll start there.

I don’t remember the exact date, but one morning a few weeks ago as I was doing the route, I managed to run over something in the road. I didn’t think much of it at first until Victor’s oil light came on. I almost disregarded this, because his computer is screwed up right now, and several of his lights are on for no reason. The “deployed air bag” light has been on for months now, and the “overheated” temperature light keeps coming on at random intervals. I know enough not to worry about these things, because 1. My airbags have NEVER been deployed, and 2. Victor never overheats. This I know because the “overheated” light comes on as soon as I start him up in the morning when he’s cold. I went in once to get the computer adjusted, but the techs at the local VW emporium need to access the computer through the stereo panel, and they don’t possess the proper tools to remove my after-market stereo. I haven’t worried about it since then; I’ll get around to it eventually.

ANYway, I almost ignored the oil light, but then I decided that this would be an unwise move without at least a perfunctory examination of the situation. I stopped the car, got out, and saw a thin trail on the road behind Victor, leading up to his rear end, but not going any further. I checked underneath, and sure enough, I was leaking oil. It was 0300 or so, no shops open to fix it, and nobody I could call for help at that hour. Luckily, I happened to be carrying a couple of extra bottles of oil in Victor’s trunk, so that got me through the route and I got the pan fixed as soon as the shop opened. Oil problem solved? Only inasmuch as there was no more leak. Other problems were just beginning.

I got a call later from the friendly folks at the paper telling me that one of my customers was complaining that I had left an oil trail in their driveway. My immediate unvoiced response was “So f—king what?” I hadn’t discovered the actual leak until after I had delivered to this particular person, otherwise I’d have taken steps to prevent this.

The person wouldn’t accept the fact that oil eventually wears off of tar. I had to go out to her house a day later and attempt to scrub the oil off. I tried 3 different chemical solutions, all to no avail. She ended up filing a claim with my insurance company, who are so loyal to their customers that they immediately awarded her a $1000.00 claim, which will make my premiums go up, and put six demerit points on my record.

As I drove past her house today on the route, I saw that the work has been done already; she has a nice new, black, sparkling clean driveway. I’m just waiting for her and her husband to leave for the winter as they always do, so I can have Bella do a bit of business on their new tar. But that’s a secret, so don’t tell anybody.

I’m going to go ahead and get this posted since it’s already past 1400. I’ll leave my other misadventures as a tale for tomorrow or the next day.

A little bit of catching up

I’ve been meaning to throw something up (so to speak) here on the page for several days now, but for whatever reason, I just haven’t gotten around to it until now. Since it’s this late in the day, those of you who read me at work probably won’t see this until Monday, but that’s okay. FYI, as I write this, it’s Friday the 15th at about 1535.

There was a birthday party for the twins this past Sunday. I can’t believe they’re a year old already. They’re doing great, though, and are proving to be a bit more of a handful than I predicted.

One thing I’ve been wondering about for quite a while is whether or not I’d be able to attend the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert this year, what with having the new route and all, and working Saturdays. I lucked out though; I just got the notice a few days ago of this year’s tour, and it’s on a Sunday, with an afternoon show at 1500. This will enable me to go, and get back in time for work Sunday night/Monday morning. This is awesome. This will be my SIXTH year in a row seeing the show. This year, I’m taking my sister with me. Actually, she’s driving, so she’s taking me. There’s 16 years separating us in age. We’ve always gotten along fine for the most part, but I spent most of her growing-up years either in the Army, or too wrapped up in myself to pay her a lot of attention, so we’ve never been particularly “close.” I’m trying now to change that. I think that this awesome concert is going to be a great start.

What else? It’s only about 80 degrees today, but it’s still too hot for my preferences. People will want to slap me for this, but we’ve reached the point in the year where I’m sick of summer, and I’m ready for fall. Fall is my favorite season anyway. It’s time for cooler temperatures; it’s time for the kids to go back to school where they belong, and it’s time for the Citiots® (noun: weekend visitors from the Twin Cities) to stay the hell at home for a while. Once the Fourth of July (or as some people call it, Independence Day) is done, there’s little point to the remainder of the summer. I know, most of you feel differently, but this is my opinion. It’s also my blog, so I can say whatever I want. Neener, neener.

That about wraps it up for now. I’m gonna go watch some TV, methinks. I love Fridays. Since I get off around 7 on Friday morning, and don’t have to go to work again until Saturday at noon, this is the closest I get to an actual day off. Hopefully I can do another entry next week.

See ya next time.

Bill needs

After seeing this on ImPerceptible’s blog today, I couldn’t resist trying it myself. Besides, I need to fill some space on this page. It involves a Google search of the term “Bill needs,” and here are some of the more interesting results:


Bill needs some help to expel alien gang members

Bill needs big changes

Bill needs fixes

Bill needs to stop

Bill needs Tom (wtf?)

Bill needs attention early

Bill needs updating

Bill needs a strong biodiesel policy

Bill needs to be re-examined

Bill needs to be stopped now!

My personal favorite: Bill needs 21st century upgrade

Bill needs a closer look

Bill needs something

(good lord) Bill needs the toilet

Bill needs a miracle

Bill needs pruning

And finally: Bill needs a hug.

That was fun. Thanks for the idea, ImPerceptible.