CAR REPAIR

I have stated several times before on this blog that the last automobile I owned that I could open the hood and perhaps fix a problem was the 1948 Chevrolet which I drove in my college days.  It was ten years old when I started.

I believe I have told you about the winter when the brakes went out. I was impoverished in those days and my college sat high on a hill above the rest of the town.  Whenever I had to go into town I would creep down a snow- and ice-covered hilly street in second gear, hoping against hope that no other traffic would be coming on the street at the bottom onto which I had to make a u-turn.  There never was and I would skid across the street backwards until my wheels struck the curb.  Then I could proceed on into town.

It went like this throughout the winter because I knew I didn't have enough money to get my brakes fixed.  And then spring came, the snow melted and for some strange reason I had some money in my pockets.  So I nervously took the car to a garage and waited for the expensive repair estimate.  Finally the mechanic came out and said something like "you're good to go.  That'll be eighty-five cents!"

"What?", I said.

"You just needed some brake fluid," he explained.

OMG!  I had spent all winter risking life and limb when all I needed was some inexpensive brake fluid!

Well, that should tell you all you need to know about my automobile repair expertise.

Until today.

We recently bought a brand new 2013 Nissan Altima car.  But over the past week or so we began to notice a rattle which seemed to be coming from the dashboard on the drivers' side.  We had less than 2,800 miles on the car and already it was falling apart!  After the latest drive by my wife she came home, steaming, and said "We've got to get that thing fixed!"

So I took it to the local Nissan dealer, whose service manager said that day was not a good day and we made an appointment for this morning.  I showed up right on time, having first removed everything from the car that might cause the rattle. A few minutes later he asked me to go for a test drive with the mechanic.  We had a tough time finding a road with bumps in it that caused the rattle but he did hear it and confirmed that I was not crazy.  Back to the dealership.  I returned to the waiting room, he took the car back into the shop.

About 15 minutes later the service manager came out with the verdict.  I braced myself for the bad news.  He said "the mechanic found the problem.  Your sun visor wasn't clipped."

"You're kidding!" I responded.

But he wasn't.

I drove home with the radio turned off, listening intently for any tiny rattle.  There weren't any.  The car drove like a dream.  Silently.  Rattle-less.

Car repair.  It's not for amateurs.

HOT - COLD

Readers of a certain age or those of you who are fans of gangsters movies of the 30's or 40's will recognize the term "the hot seat".  It's a euphemism for the electric chair which ended the life of do-badders.

Let me now introduce you to "the cold seat".

It's not a place one would readily choose to sit.  Here's a slightly bigger view.

It shows you what happens when your lazy correspondent fails to take his deck chairs into shelter when he knows . . HE KNOWS . . that the weatherman is going to bring snow.

Today, the weather was moving away from us.

As the clouds and the rain or snow move to the north and east, over the Black Hills, over Mingus Mountain, still dropping more moisture, it leaves us with blue skies and a great view in the sky.

And, one of these days, I'll take my deck chairs in.

THE SUNDAY VARIETY SHOW

First of all let me wish you all a happy new year.  No, I'm not late, this really is New Year's Day.  If you're Chinese.

And in case you're wondering, it's the year of the snake.

Now as you know, we're moving to the Phoenix area sometime soon (we hope) and I wanted to show you something wonderful.  We went desk shopping recently for a real desk instead of the door-and-computer-files I've been using for years and years.  Here's the present set-up.

Serviceable but ugly as sin.  SWMBO has hated it for years.  I have clung to it.  But then.  We found an oak desk at a thrift store, bought it and had it delivered to our garage.  It sat there for a few weeks until the weather warmed up a bit and then SWMBO went at it.  It had a couple of dents in the surface and I wanted more of a cherry look.  She filled the dents, sanded the surface, stripped it, stained it a couple or three times, she put a sealer on it and finally it is ready to go.  It's still in the garage, waiting for the movers to take it to it's new location.  But here's a preview shot of it.

I think she did a fantastic job on it and I can't wait to use it.

Now, if I can just find a back yard like this to go with it.

Thanks go to the following people for this post:  my friend Phil for alerting me to Chinese New Year, my beloved wife for making my new desk beautiful, and my friend Jerry for posting that dream-backyard-photo on Facebook.  How's that saying go . . . it takes a village . . .

SATURDAY SILLINESS

With apologies to you folks in the Northeast, here's what I found when I opened my eyes this morning.

I know, I know, it's nothing compared to the two feet or so you have in Boston but give me a break.  I live in ARIZONA!  What am I supposed to tell my friends and relatives in The Frozen North?

Well, a sight like that calls for something to lighten the mood and nothing does it better for me than the Elvis routine of the late, great Andy Kaufman.

By the way, SWMBO and I are planning a move to warmer climes soon, as I think you know.  We've been packing and packing boxes.  But cats can sense a change in their environment.  I think Blackwell was giving us a subtle message last night: don't forget me!

A SIMPLE QUESTION

What is the Internet for anyway?

Why, to bring you stuff like this:

I checked out all of these hints for home safety and personal health on Snopes and all are for real!

AMAZING, SIMPLE HOME REMEDIES:

1. Avoid cutting yourself when slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold the vegetables while you chop.

2. Men can avoid arguments with the females about lifting the toilet seat by using the sink in their bathroom.

3. For high blood pressure sufferers, simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure on your veins.  Remember, it’s important to set a timer.

4. An old fashioned spring loaded mouse trap placed on top of your alarm clock will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

5. You need only two tools in life:  WD-40 & duct tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the wd-40.  If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.

6. If you can't fix it with a hammer, you've got an electrical problem.

And stuff like this:

And this:

See?  That's what the Internet is for!

GLOBAL WARMING?

Is it or isn't it?  You be the judge.

A NEW BEGINNING

We have begun our search for a new home in Phoenix.  Moving is one of my least favorite things to do but you'd never know it from my record.  This will be the 31st and I'm hoping the final move of my life.

We are busy packing and labeling boxes.

As is obvious, we are book lovers.  We used to run a bookstore and we have hundreds of books.  Most but not all of them are packed into boxes now.  As they become packed for the movers our bookshelves are becoming empty.

Every time we have moved, we have said "Never again!  We must stop accumulating things!"

And, of course, by the next move we are inundated with more and more "stuff".  The late George Carlin had a wonderful routine about that.

I keep saying to SWMBO "but we're packing all our stuff and we don't have any place to go yet!"

She says "shut up and pack!"

We made an exploratory trip to Phoenix this week and drove all over town checking out areas we might like to live in.  The ones we really like, of course, are too expensive for us.  We contacted a realtor or two and learned from one of them that what we want is a property management person.  We think we've found one so, as SWMBO keeps telling me, "we will find a place to live."

One thing we have discovered is that there don't seem to be a lot of classified ads for homes in the newspaper anymore.  Apparently digital media has virtually eliminated that form of advertising.  Since that is a huge portion of any newspaper's income it is not surprising to see so many newspapers stopping publishing or cutting back and going to the Internet.

I said at the beginning of this that I had moved 30 times in my life.  You might be surprised to learn that we have lived where we are now for nearly 12 years and one previous home for about the same amount of time.  That tells you one of two things - either I've had a lot of short tenures in homes or I'm very, very old.

I think the first is true.  As to the second I'm feeling older every single day.