Win-win-win-win.

Hey all,

I’d have written about the truck sooner but it’s taken me a while to find the humor. It’s a truck. It’s old. And we bought it, mostly, as a kindness.

Jacob, friends of ours’ son, needed something newer to drive. Something that would start. And he needed out of an odious used car loan. Chris had loved working on our friend, Joe’s, old Toyota truck and missed having it to borrow. He missed having it to borrow because Joe, desperate for dough, had sold his truck a few months ago. So, when Jacob’s mom emailed asking if we might be interested in buying her son’s truck – Chris leapt at the chance.

In theory, our buying Jacob’s truck would help get him into a new truck, give Chris something to play with and give our friend, Joe, something to borrow in exchange for our parking it at his house. Moreover, it wasn’t going to cost me anything and I wouldn’t ever have to look at it. It was a win-win-win-win scenario. And then Chris did an engine compression test.

So dismayed was he by those test results, that he went out and bought a new compression tester just to disprove them – but to no avail. Two of the six cylinders were below spec and one was just plain dead. “It’s got six – do you really need all of them?” I asked.

[Are you starting to see why I’ve had such a hard time finding the humor in this?]

The day the truck arrived. Chris was so excited.

Because it wasn’t running, or more specifically, wouldn’t start, Jacob’s dad helped him tow it down from Vermont. His father was beyond happy to help facilitate this deal. (Hi Greg!)

Jacob and his brother push while their dad steered.

The truck is old. An ’89. Old enough that Toyota hadn’t come up with a model name yet. No Tacoma. No Tundra. It’s just a Toyota Truck.

And this is what it looks like today.

The plan had been to just replace its fuel pump, start it up, and drive it away but now that the engine has been carted off for rebuild Chris is, well, sort of out of control.

It is a wonderfully productive sort of insanity.

Boxes have begun showing up at the house filled with shiny new things.

And the folks at AutoZone have been happy to help too.

It upsets me some that my car has lost its place in the garage but by way of consolation I keep reminding myself that it could be worse.

It could be a whole boat parked in my backyard instead of just an anchor.

So, that’s happening.

Take care.

Discovery comes home to Dulles

Hey,

My sister-in-law took these photos today.

She and my brother live in Reston and so drove out to Dulles’ Udvar-Hazy Museum to watch Discovery (and its host) land. They were late to get going and started to panic when they saw traffic backed-up and pulled over along the highway. But, in the end, scored a great view by simply driving to the airport’s passenger’s parking garage as if they were planning to take a flight.

Sister-in-law wrote, “The plane did one fly over and then headed into DC, came back and did another fly over [before landing].”

I am very impressed with the pictures.

And to think she considered skipping this in order to go to attend a yoga class…

Down on the ground the thing looks freakishly huge as it taxis by the airport’s passenger terminal.

There’s the crane, I presume, they use to detach the shuttle from its host.

Lots of interesting folks were there to watch too. Among them, these Mennonites. (Or, as I’ve been told, Amish but with cars.)

A woman communicates with her sister in Florida in order to get shuttle location updates.

People standing on stuff in order to improve their view.

And, my sister-in-law wrote, “lots and lots of people who brought their little kids.”

According to her, it was a very nice time. I am officially jealous.

Take care everyone.

 

Godzilla and the Green Lantern

Hey all,

Without going into details the CMan and I have been enduring some frustrations of late. By way of taking a little vacation from our cares we went for a walk yesterday. The CMan was tricky. I suggested the walk but he insisted on choosing our route. I sighed. Afterwards, that would mean having to map and calculate our distance traveled. But I can do that. www dot walk jog run is very good for that. Call me anal, but I keep track of the mileage of my walking shoes.

As we progressed, I was slow. Not in pace but in regard to Chris’ goal. He was walking to the comic book store. That’s Entertainment on Park Ave.

It’s a pretty nifty place. Lots to see.

And similar to the Worcester Historical Museum, sometimes you just don’t know what you’re going to see. This for instance. A Charley Weaver Battery Powered Bartender. Who knew?

Or that. A Fred and Dino Wind-Up Toy. That thing is as old as me but in better condition.

But it was these that Chris was keen to see. Godzilla’s. He’s been wanting one for a long while.

While he shopped for his dream Japanese Sci-fi beast I went looking for Leonard and Sheldon but they weren’t there. Ah well.

And then it finally occurred to me to do a little shopping of my own. Along the way I got a chuckle from seeing these. It was just a happenstance but both of us were wearing the T-shirts I had bought here for Festivus. Chris his City of Woo logo and me my “Worcester – Paris of the Eighties” tee. I don’t think “Paris of the Eighties” was ever the city’s official slogan but somebody pitched it out there way back then and it stuck – albeit in a delightfully smarmy sort of way.

It was these that I was looking for. Just the other day I had been wondering “Why do I continue to drink beer out of a Clark University glass? I’m the only person in this house who bothers to decant their beer and I didn’t go to Clark University.” And then, just this past weekend, I was alerted to the presence of these. [Thanks Trish!]

And then we walked home. That’s Chris’ new used vintage Godzilla. Because the inner gears that animate the feet and paws are stripped its price was drastically reduced. Still, when turned on, its eyes glow yellow and it utters proper “Gahaaa! Gahaaa! Gahaaa!” sounds.

We’d enjoyed a nice little respite and later that day we even ran a train. I decanted a beer into my new Green Lantern** glass.

I think Wallie says it best.

Happy Tuesday people.

**The Green Lantern? It turns out that his super powers are vast and confusing. I might need a study guide.

$100 Hamburger or An Exercise in Extravagance.

Hey All,

Aside from last month’s trip to the Worcester Historical Museum there has been precious little going on around here.

February is like that. There’s no football or Formula1 on TV. No car or train shows to attend. There’s not even an amateur rocket launch on the horizon. (About that last thing, did you know there’s something called the Central Massachusetts Spacemodeling Society? Me neither, but they’ve got a launch planned for April and I hope to be there when it happens. Their website does state that children are welcome so I reason we probably won’t be turned away.)

The one fun thing that has been happening of late is airplane rides. Lots of little airplane rides. I love an airplane ride. Now that my father-in-law has been installed on the Cape, the CMan and I have been catching airplane rides with his brother for the purpose of making short visits. Well, I don’t visit. I wait in the car and read. Trust me. V doesn’t miss me. This is the man who, at my wedding reception, leaned over to my mother and whispered in her ear, “My other son is a doctor.”

Anyway, today we went for another flight but its purpose was purely fanciful. Today we went for lunch. In the world of general aviation these lunches are referred to as $100 hamburgers. [Actual costs may vary.]

We meet Dr. J in Woo. For an airport that supposedly doesn’t have that many passengers there always seems to be a lot of cars in its parking lot.

Dr. J flies a Bonanza. Bonanzas are also known as a “V-tailed doctor killers.” I’d worry about that except that Dr. J became a pilot long before he became a doctor. I have a lot of confidence in his flying ability.

Here the plane’s fuel is being topped off before we leave. The price of airplane fuel varies but for the past month it’s been between six and seven dollars a gallon. We’d burn about 25 gallons flying back and forth to lunch. The entire enterprise was an exercise in extravagance.

I always get to sit up front where I do my best to stay out of the way.

I also spend a lot of time studying the numerous gauges. Most of them are still a mystery to me but, incrementally, I’m sort of starting to figure things out. Most of these seem fairly obvious…

…it’s the navigation and communication systems that still dazzle me. That and trying to comprehend what all the talk with the tower is about. Although, I am all ears whenever they warn us to watch for other aircraft.

My little Dick Tracyesque altimeter wristwatch has proven to be surprisingly accurate.

I am charmed by that.

Chris seems comfy in the backseat enjoying the view.

I attempt a shadow puppet on the wing. (That’s supposed to look like a dog. My uncle thinks it looks like a chicken. Factoring the hand holding the camera I can see his point.)

And we approach today’s destination. Block Island.

If you’re interested, you can watch a little video of our landing.

I’d never been to Block Island before. Turns out, there’s an adorable little airport there.

It’s even serviced by an airline. Sort of. New England Airlines is about to depart.

And this would be our reason for being there. Bethany’s Airport Diner.

“Real Food for Real People” I don’t know how many real people own real airplanes but whatever.

Plus, if a person flies in for the sole purpose of eating lunch – the airport generously waives their $10 landing fee.

[Jon, did you notice? If you buy the twin-engine of your dreams there’ll be a 50% increase in the landing fee. Shocking.]

Dr. J craves a Beechcraft Baron. Its twin engines won’t actually get him anywhere much faster or further than the plane he owns now but, he reasons, his cool quotient will go way – way – up. Moreover, should one of the engines ever fail mid-flight he’d still have the other one with which to fly to the crash site.

Anyway, back at Bethany’s we score a table with a runway view. In the summertime a person could sit outside.

And there it is. My $100 hamburger. (It’s actually a turkey burger.) The dollop of potato salad on the side was an unexpected bonus.

We weren’t the only people flying in for lunch today. The guys piloting this Black Hawk helicopter were there as well.

We watched them land and then, later, during their departure they drew a little crowd.

The fellow on the right was excited to see one in flight. He mentioned building them for a living but of then never getting to see one in flight. I made a short movie too as, after the Air Force guys took off, they came back for a low flyby. People are smiling because the orange jumpsuited crew was waving back.

This would also be about when I finally figured out which State we were in. Until I noticed the airport’s tractor’s license plate I had stupidly assumed we were in New York. Um, like, dur.

And that was pretty much it. Once more Chris climbed into the backseat and I took my spot up front.

And we flew home where the ground was and is still covered with snow. (That’s Park Ave. running up the middle of the photo.)

Although, there is a rumor that later this week the temps are supposed to hit 60.

Happy Monday everybody!

Fleas fit for a wedding and the history of Woo.

Greetings all,

By way of finding our own fun today the CMan and I finally traveled to the Worcester Historical Museum.

I’d been meaning to get over there for, oh, about the last twenty years. Looking back, I think my biggest hindrances had been never remembering come a free weekend and my worrying about where to park. That second fret was especially dumb since, it turns out, the museum has its own parking lot. See?

Google’s street view showed that gate swung shut but this little sign denotes the hours that it’s open.

What finally flushed us out today was the museum’s The Train Is Leaving The Station exhibit. We had to get over there. It would be gone after Thursday.

It’s a scale model of Union Station and the surrounding area complete with model trains.

For some reason, I had gotten it into my head that the trains would be G or Garden Gauge. They’re not. They’re O Gauge. That explains a lot. I had wondered how a Garden Gauge exhibit could have fit inside such a space. Still, it was a very nice layout.

There was a passenger train, a freight train and a street car all running at once.

Or, rather, all running at once just as long as someone keeps mashing on that red button.

I was game to press the red button; I just sure as hell wasn’t going to touch the red button.

That’s what little kids are for.

Anyway, after looking at that we ventured around the rest of the museum.

Chris gazes into a display case filled with items that, well, might prove difficult to explain.

For instance, a pair of fleas dressed for a wedding. (You’ll just have to trust me that they’re there.) Looking at that made me ponder how when a person wakes up in the morning they just never know what it is that they might see that day.

And then there was this. This just generated a whole bunch of questions sans any plausible or sane answers so I had to move on.

Okay, so maybe I haven’t quite moved on. I mean, who could have thought that little thing would bring down a cow? Could that small an arrowhead bring down a cow? And, if not, than someone just shot the animal as a cruel prank? But who would toss away such a nifty artifact for a cruel prank? Someone both young and dumb? The same sort of soul who once put a bb in my cat? Again – must, move, on.

Chris tries to find our domicile’s local on a map made in 1878.

Ah. Peat Pond. Now I know what to call the water that collects in our basement every spring.

This sort of thing appeals to the geographer inside of me. A good ol’ dot distribution map. Reminds me of the crime map I created when we first moved here. What I concluded from plotting that data was that unless a person habitually bought or sold either drugs or sex the odds of them either being shot or stabbed was very slim.

Now, this is a neat piece of history. Do folks know that the space suits worn by NASA’s Gemini astronauts were made here, at the David Clark Company, in the city of Woo?

If that information causes you to pause you might be amused to know that it caused the people at NASA to pause too. To wit, “… NASA was not overjoyed about ‘putting guys in vacuums with nothing between them but that little old lady from Worcester, Massachusetts, her glue pot and that suit.’”

Moving on, we ventured upstairs. I had no idea of the fun that awaited us up there. It would be a room devoted to arguably Worcester’s most famous resident – the smiley face. (I can’t make up stuff like this.) Harvey Ball, the smiley face’s creator, gets a mention too but the room is all very smiley.

And would you look at that? I mean, look at that. That is Stephen Colbert. What the heck is he doing here?

[Portrait of Stephen Colbert as “Grand Moff Colbert” with Darth Vader and a giant Smiley face Death Star. Chosen from thousands of entries, this portrait of the famed political satirist was seen above the “Mantletop Honor Zone 5400” as part of “Art Stephen Up” on his Comedy Central program “The Colbert Report.” Loaned by the artist Robert Thibeault of Milford, Massachusetts.]  Wow. I’m still excited about having seen that.

I had to chuckle too when I remembered that the one other place I’ve seen a portrait of Stephen Colbert (at the Smithsonian’s Museum of American History) it too was hanging next to the men’s room.

Chris ushered me into the men’s room so that I might enjoy the smiley face light fixtures. : )

I appreciated this smiley face study guide too. Don’t accept substitutes.

Speaking of which, what is a Wal-Mart worker’s bib doing here? As, clearly, its Smiley face does not conform. It’s a fraud. Hmm.

And that pretty much did it for our visit. We did make a brief foray to the gift shop…

…where I purchased this pencil but declined the opportunity to squish a penny into a souvenir coin.

And then we headed off to the Wonder Bar for lunch. Where a person can eat a pizza and enjoy a ‘Gansett served inside a teeny tiny glass.

That’s it!

P.s. Clicky the linky for photo of me with Colbert portrait hanging at the Smithsonian Museum of American History. http://twitpic.com/8inh47 And thank you Robert Thibeault for creating the portrait I saw today. It’s magnificent.

My neighbor OR The World’s Newest Super Featherweight.

She’s okay. She fell and her eye glasses gashed the side of her head. Four stitches.

I’m just so impressed that she didn’t break a single bone. Not even a little finger.

Last Day of Travel Log – I promise.

The next day was our last day and since time was limited our sole goal was to trek to the Building Museum for coffee. This is actually code for visiting a gift shop.

In preparation for our departure I folded the maid an origami frog. We’d leave it behind along with the tip. Unlike yesterday’s lost coat man, I know that the maid will find the frog, I just won’t ever know if she cares.

We took the Metro to the Judiciary Square stop. The Building Museum is located directly across the street.

The Building Museum is an elegant space and usually a quiet place to get coffee. But, on this day, a troop of preschoolers would march in about a minute after this photo was taken.

The steps to the second floor feature low slung risers counter to extra long runs.

I had to wonder if the survey crews at my corporate overlord’s office could adequately describe them for me were I tasked with drafting them on an existing conditions plan. Craig? Louie? Rich? Thoughts?

So elegant is the building that upon visiting the woman’s room I found myself folding the toilet tissue into pretty points.

After a quick tour of the book store and gift shop – where we bought some key chains but most assuredly did not buy this – it was time to head home.

No need for Joe Patroni’s expertise on the return flight. No snow. Only sunshine.

And, oh yeah, I was reminded that we’d be going home to two more enjoyable weeks of football hype. This guy had wasted no time declaring his allegiance.

No 1st Class seats on the return trip but a quick switch garnered us an Exit Row which, for this short flight, is as good or better. And we got to sit together.

And as my mother would say or, at least, used to “Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.”

The cats (one in particular) seemed sort of peeved with our inexplicable absence but eventually they came around and forgive us. They’re cats. It’s a feature.

Take care everybody!