the tractor ordeal

retaining wall
Originally uploaded by daveterry.

This tractor caused us way too much trouble. It all started so quietly on a Friday evening while the neighbors ate their dinner.

The weekend project was to knock down the old retaining wall, clear some dirt, and begin the process of building it up again. But we'd have to earn our stripes before we got to that.

The plan was to off-load the tractor the night before. Jim arrived at 7:00pm.

When he arrived he first backed his rig up the 30 degree driveway incline, put it in park, and climbed into the tractor on the trailer, started it up and idled a bit.

When we drove the tractor off the trailer at the top of the driveway it upended the front of the trailer. Of course it was attached to the hitch on the truck. The hitch rose high in the air thus lifting the back wheels of the truck clean off the cement. This left only the front wheels on the pavement, which were not blocked. So they began to roll forward down the 30 degree incline.

Oooopppppppsssss.

Since the truck lost it's traction it began a long slide down the driveway with trailer in tow and Jim still in the tractor, which was idling on the back of the trailer.

It seemed forever and in slow motion as the whole rig slid down the hill. I thought about jumping into the cab but since the rear wheels were off the pavement, I wasn't convinced it would do any good. Besides, I had this image that when it reached the bottom of the drive, it would keel over onto it's side crushing the prickly bush and mailbox with me inside. It didn't seem like a wise move to me. So I watched motionless as Jim receded down the drive in the small cab of the tractor, on the trailer towed by the truck.

When the truck reached the bottom of the drive, it jackknifed, which wedged the trailer hitch on the ball and the tongue of the trailer under the bumper. The front edge of the trailer pined itself into the left rear tire. Jim was half standing, as if to jump, but it was too late for that so he sat back down to assess the damage.

We were in a jam because as the trailer scraped down the driveway, the tread ramps flipped up and locked the tractor onto the back end of the trailer. It couldn't go forward and it couldn't go backward. If we drove it backward it would most likely bend the axle of the truck since part of the trailer was sitting on the top edge of the wheel. Remember, this tractor weighs almost two tons.

The result of all of this was that the bumper was bent upward, which prevented the back door from opening. (It's a fully enclosed Tahoe truck) It also dented the left rear quarter panel and dinged the rear wheel rim.

What are we going to do now? This wan NOT a good beginning.

We fist let the air out of the left rear tire.

Next we removed the pins holding the ramps to the trailer.

Then we drove the tractor off the trailer, hooked the chain to the rear of the trailer and pulled the trailer off the wheel and partially back up the drive.

Finally we re-filled the tire with air, and drove the truck over the lawn into the street. (Jim later straightened the bumper using a tree and come-along.)

I didn't get much sketching done today.

...dave
If I can't be a good example I'll just be a horrible warning.

Stoplight Sketching

VW at a light
Originally uploaded by daveterry.

chevy at a light
Originally uploaded by daveterry.

I've got an addiction. I've been sketching while waiting at stoplights. I may need help.

stoplight sketchbook
Originally uploaded by daveterry.

I bought a small sketchbook and a ZIG Millennium pen and started sketching bumpers and it blossomed from there. Now I sketch stoplights, telephone poles, and cars. I guess it's a harmless addiction but it's an addiction all the same.

What this means is that I'm not reading at the stoplights but instead I'm sketching.

It's a tricky thing, this sketching at stoplights. I keep a watchful eye on the car in front of me. I don't want people beeping at me when the light changes.

I bought a little 3.5 x 5.5 book with 128 pages. It's small and handy and I use the small elastic band to hold two ZIG pens.

The sketchbook I bought was a Handbook sketchbook.

If you're going to try this, I have a few suggestions:

Sketchbook
Originally uploaded by daveterry.

1) Never try to draw (or attempt to finish a drawing) while driving. Resist the temptation. Otherwise your next sketch will be your crumpled hood.

2) Have several sketches in progress. Don't worry about unfinished sketches when the light changes. You can always add more detail on your next commute. And that's the beauty of stoplight sketching when you commute, you can finish the next time through. You finish the sketch when you've added enough detail.

There you have it. Drawings from a red light stalker.

...dave

Spotting the slow ones

rock entry
Originally uploaded by daveterry.

It's fairly easy to spot the slow drivers, even from a distance, once you get the hang of it.

It is said that you can always tell what folks are not from these parts by the way they carry themselves. You can also tell what kind of driver you have in front of you by the way they drive.

When I'm barreling down the highway looking for the fast way to my destination, I can always spot the slow pokes. If you use my key signs, you'll spot them from afar and will be able to avoid them too.

So here is my list of indicators that you have a snail on the road:

1) You can't see the driver from behind. This is key. If the back of their head hardly clears the headrest, you've got a turtle in front of you. Guaranteed.

2) Sidewinder. This is a car that is going down the highway diagonally. You've seen these guys. Maybe it's been in a crash and the frame is bent. Who knows? But the car is headed down the highway pointed askew. It ain't going straight and it usually ain't going fast.

3) Encrusted bird droppings on back window (or all windows). The car has been sitting long under some tree. The deiver doesn't get out much. And it's a sure sign that the driver can't see out. They are oblivious to all the other cars on the road. They think they are the only driver in the universe. That's why they drive in the highway's center lane doing about 25 mph.

4) Trunk key hole uncovered. This usually indicates general inattention. The older cars, and all snail drivers drive old cars, have those little metal covers that flick over the keyhole in the trunk. Car manufactures have long since done away with these things in the interest in cutting cost. They became extinct about the time of the dinosaurs. But the slow drivers seem to all have them.

5) Missing hubcaps. This is a key indicator. If the car has one or more missing hubcaps, chances are you're behind grandpa. How can you see the side of the wheels of the car in front of you? See #2.

6) Animated talking to passenger. These people believe that there are only two people in the universe.

7) 10 and 2. These old drivers are not trying to steer the car, they're only holding on. One hand at the 10 o'clock and the other at 2. Blue hair usually comes with a 10 and 2 grip. (This combination is sometimes referred to as: blue-hair-10-and-2.)

I'm going to start walking more. Less stres and less snails on the road. Of course, you may see them in the garden.

Earlier this week we went for a walk and found this charming doorway you see above.

...dave
“Middle Age - When you want to see how long your car will last instead of how fast it will go.”

New Words

I've been learning a few new words these days. English words. So here you go:

Arborsmith. This one was not even in the dictionary. But I found a very cool website on the subject. But first the definition:

The art of growing furniture (or other sculpture) from living trees.

Check out Arborsmith/Arborsculptor for more details.

Here's a few new English words I learned that ARE in the dictionary:

slipstream
Pronunciation: 'slip-strEm
Function: noun
1 : a stream of fluid (as air or water) driven aft by a propeller
2 : an area of reduced air pressure and forward suction immediately behind a rapidly moving vehicle

Example: I got great gas mileage slipstreaming down the highway.

shunpike
Pronunciation: 'shen-pIke
Function: noun
: a side road used to avoid the toll on or the speed and traffic of a superhighway
- shun·pik·er /-pi-ker/ noun
- shun·pik·ing /-king/ noun

My wife is always doing this. Turning off the tried and true route to find another way off the beaten path. She's a shunpiker.

So there you have it. Education at its finest. Right here on the blog.

...dave
The limits of my language are the limits of my mind. All I know is what I have words for. - Ludwig Wittgenstein

Insomnia

Can't sleep. Up again at 4:55. It's all so wonderfully quite. No sounds anywhere.

It rained hard yesterday evening and into the night. I vaguely remember waking briefly because of a thunder clap. The rain poured. It came in sheets and sheets of gushing water. It sounded like we were sleeping under a waterfall. And yet there is something soothing about the steady rain crashing atop the roof outside.

Last night I was in the shop building a frame rack for a friend. It was raining so hard it was difficult to hear my table saw. I opened the garage door and watched the water fall outside. The rainwater from the roof gushed out the downspouts. My driveway became the sluices for the downpour. The plants seemed happy. It's been hot here.

Spoke to a work associate earlier this week. He was calling into a conference from Pakistan. We asked how the weather was in Pakistan. Says it was it was cold there. I didn't know Pakistan got cold. "How cold?" I asked.

"Oh" he said "it's down to 70 right now."

"70? Cold? What was the temperature earlier then?" I pressed.

"It was 120 degrees at noon."

I can't even fathom 120 degrees. You might as well climb into an oven. Wait, you wouldn't need an oven. Just put your eggs out on the sidewalk. In three minutes they'd be done.

One hundred and twenty degrees? Is it possible to get that hot here on earth? Where is Pakistan anyway? Maybe that's not a place here on earth. Maybe it's on Venus? That planet gets pretty hot. Yeah, that must be it.

In 120 degree temperatures I can't imagine walking around much. Most of the folks would most likely melt if exposed to those temperatures for any length of time. I visualize a Far Side comic of melted people in the streets. Just faces staring up at you as you walk by.

I remember as a kid driving through Bakersfield California in an old Buick. No air conditioning in those days. It was so hot the air pressed in on my lungs, intent on suffocating me. There was no breeze. Even the air passing by the window outside felt like a blast furnace. I couldn't get any cooler putting my head out the window. I just risked singeing my eyebrows in the heat.

The old Buick had a bench seat. That was before bucket seats were popular. The good news was that you could fit an entire family in the front. That bad news was we did AND it was 110 degrees. Did I mention that it was hot?

For some reason our family of four was stuffed in the front driving through Bakersfield in 110 degree temperatures. There was another family in the back. We had it good in the front. There was four of us. They had six!

And that's all I know about Bakersfield. That's all I know about heat. That's all I know about anything.

So where was I? Oh, yeah. It's dark out. All's quite in the house. There's a few birds now waking up. Some are chirping in the backyard.

It's 6:07. Eric's alarm went off. The day has started. Time to make the coffee.

...dave
No vacation goes unpunished. -Karl A. Hakkarainen

Commuting in the slooooow lane

One of the reasons I go in early to work is so that I can avoid traffic. It doesn't make any sense to me to crawl in traffic when I can speed along if I just leave a few minutes early. That is of course unless I get behind a slug.

This morning a big Navigator pulled out in front of me and then proceeded to go the speed they were going in their little subdivision. It was painful. They were going so slow I could make out the treads in their rear tire. This is nuts. I resisted the horn. It's so barbaric, especially in the morning.

And so it went. We braked at every turn and bend in the road. We stopped for the five second pause at every stop sign. We did our makeup in the visor mirror. Yeah, it was a fun time. We were actually going slower then the speed limit allowed. Completely oblivious to the universe around us. It was as if we were the only moving things in the galaxy.

So, instead of getting to work in about 22 minutes. It took me two days.

But, I have to remember, nine out of ten drivers in Georgia carry a gun . I'm trying to get from point A to point B. I'm not giving driving instructions.

...dave
We're all different. That's what makes us the same.

People and Cars

I think people are a lot like cars, in many ways. Not just in size or shape but speed. Now hear me out on this one because I think this blog entry has got to be my most insightful. I think if you just keep an open mind on this one you'll have to agree.

So here it is...

People are a lot like cars because the faster you drive them the shorter their life span.

Brilliant isn't it?

I was watching the show When Stunts Go Bad DirectTV the other day.

It's crazy to see all the kinds of stuff people do to end their lives early. Tightrope walking between buildings in 35 mph winds, car speeds in excess of 230 mph, head-on collisions on purpose, and one of my personal favorites, skydiving in a car. Yeah, you heard that right. This is an occasion when seatbelts are NOT a good idea. This guy's parachute got stuck in the seatbelt clip. He was able to extricate himself just in time.

But here's the point: People who drive in the fast lane of life live shorter lives. Just like the cars they drive.

One of the guys interviewed blacked out from a mid-air collision with another skydiver. He woke up after two days without his legs. His buddy didn't fair as well. His buddy didn't survive at all. I seriously think these people believe in the adage: Survival is nothing more than recovery. (Dianne Feinstein)

Another guy who owned a Porsche decided to try to break his record of 120 mph. So on a country road he was able to achieve 132 mph. Things went awry when a tire blew and the car flew off the road. There was nothing left. Not sure if he survived. There was no interview.

So if you want to live longer, go easy on the pedal. That goes for life's activities while outside your car too.

See I told you this would be insightful.

...dave
Moderation is the secret of survival. - Manly Hall

I like red lights

I look forward to red lights. I especially look forward to yellow lights. I stop at all yellow lights. That way I know that I have the longest wait possible. That's what I like, a long wait. I know I'm strange. Most people try to run the yellows. Not me. I've even taken longer ways home so as to get more red and yellow lights. I like waiting.

In fact, to me, slower traffic IS better. Sometimes I don't mind going places when traffic is heavy.

And I'm smarter for it. Just this month I've been able to read three additional books. All because of red lights. Sometimes you just have to leverage your waits.

Now if I could just figure out how to project my books on the windshield (They call this a HUD, Heads Up Display.)

I wonder if I could just mirror copy my book pages and place them up on the dash. That could work. Or maybe I can print-screen and paste web pages into MS Paint and rotate vertical. Then I could read the HUD (reflection) while driving and get twice as much read.

I just don't have enough time to read.

...dave
Real luxury is time and opportunity to read for pleasure. - Jane Brody

Speed

Where is everyone going? why the hurry? What's the rush? This has been going on far too long.

A few weeks ago I saw a semi truck blow past me like a category 5 hurricane. He swerved into my lane, braked hard, and then I watched a van spin out in front of him in a puff of smoke.

A few days later, while turning into my neighborhood street, I saw an overturned car on the corner curb. An OVERTURNED car! How is this possible? Speed limits are only 35 mph. How can a traffic accident in a subdivision result in an overturned car? People were gawking through the windshield. Another car was stalled nearby, crunched by the impact.

Or how about the driver of a Civic that passed within inches of my front bumper trying to make the freeway exit? There was plenty of space behind me. What's the rush? Besides the hospital, where are these people going? It's nuts.

The biggest danger is the ocean tankers. I'm talking about the bullies. Pilots of those monsters look down from the crow's nest of their ships at all smaller dinghies no larger then their stateroom portals. Or in terms of SUVs, no bigger then their stainless spinning wheel scythes. They are hugged by leather seats and ensconced in wood trim cockpits while they glow the ends of their filtered smokes with each pull. Their windows are down, their moon roofs open, their sub-woofer rattles my windshield. They thrust into my lane and catapult into the next, flicking ashes from their dashes. I smell the raw exhaust from their acceleration.

They're in a hurry.

...dave
“I think God's going to come down and pull civilization over for speeding.” - Stephen Wright quotes

Bullies

I guess it’s true that some things never change. There are bullies in the sandbox and bullies on the streets. Age doesn’t matter. Some people just never grow up.

I met a bully just this week. He was large, I mean, huge, in fact, gigantic in stature. Am I to be a trophy on his wall or bragging rights to his friends? I wonder, is it a bully's huge size that creates a disposition of distain for all things small? Does a bully, bully all things small everywhere, all the time? I don't know.

I didn't want to stick around and find out. All I can remember is coming face to face with his grill. That menacing grin. He’s just egging me on. I ignored his aggression. I just let him through. I wasn’t about to be crushed by two tons of a metal and then squeezed into the crevice of his treads. Not me, no way. Even huge trucks can be bullies!

I saw another bully in the parking lot. He wasn't as big, but big enough. I went out to get in my little Ford Focus rental but he blocked my path. I thought about going back into the store to wait it out. I figured I could wait until he left the parking lot. Why press the issue? But I HAD to get back to work. I had to get to my car. I just pushed past him, opened my door quickly and jumped inside. I may have bumped him. It may have left a dent in his side. I hate to confess that I didn't care one way or other.

Another bully rode my back bumper for sometime before turning left in front of me while I was stopped at a red light. That bully nearly took my front bumper with him.

I guess bullies are a reflection of their owners. All the bullies I met this week were owned by women. They must have felt safe, ensconced as they were in their Hummer H3 and Eddie Bauer Explorer monster cars. Who could do anything to them? If I had rolled down my window, I may have been able to reach up and touch the side step treads of the H3.

I stay away from bullies.

...dave
Those who bully the weak are cowards before the strong.-- Chinese Proverb

Ford Focus

I'm driving a rental while my car is in the shop. Mind you, my car has a six CD changer, leather seats, sun roof, butt warmers and more. The the Ford has four rubber tires. I'm doing good to get that. It's a little short in the creature comfort department.

Actually it's a little worse than that. I simply can't get comfortable in the thing. It's horrible to drive. Actually, it's tortuous. I'm convinced the designers went to Japan, learned how to make a driver comfortable, returned home and designed a torture seat. I'm telling you, everything about the driver's seat is designed to irritate and torment the driver.

For example, the driver's back adjustment has two positions: nose in dash and horizontal. And the right arm rest is in my armpit. If I try to rest my elbow on it, my right shoulder jambs into my right jaw. It's absolutely horrible. If I get the seat distance adjusted correctly, I can't reach the steering wheel. I swear the seat was designed for an ape . . . or by an ape.

The worse part has got to be the dash controls. Each and every dial and knob is just out of reach of the driver. I have to lean forward to turn the knobs and adjust the dials. Worse, I have to look down to find them. They all feel the same so I can't use sensory perception to find a knob. It can be dicy to take my eyes off the road. So I just bear the cold. It's part of my 30 minute torture commute. At least the radio knob is handy. Listening to the radio helps keep my mind off the agony.

I just can't focus in a Focus.

...dave
When I'm not in my right mind my left mind gets kind of crowded. -Stephen Wright

It could be worse

This week hasn't gone so well for us. We had a few accidents. Nothing real serious. Just a totaled Honda Odyssey and towed Camry XLE. One Ruth's, one mine.

But the accident that I had proves one thing at least. It could be worse.

I was going my merry way when blam, out of nowhere, there was a car on my left. I was hit so hard that my car rammed the curb. The front left wheel was bent in and it was impossible to drive. In fact, I couldn't even get out of the car. The driver's door wouldn't open. I sat there dazed. I stared straight ahead, disbelieving what had just happened. I was thinking, first Ruth's car, now mine, and within a week of each other. We aren't having a good week.

I slowly took off my sun glasses and placed them in the holder above the rear view mirror. I turned off my Chinese language CD, turned off the motor, and sat. The guy who hit me was asking if I was alright. He was talking through the driver's window, but I didn't answer right away. I couldn't believe that I've only had the car for a month, and now this.

Finally I got out. Partly dazed, partly depressed. There's been so much happening with our house and car that it was just too much to contemplate. The traffic was backing up, it was rush hour. How did this happen?

He had pulled over into a driveway. He was driving his wife's Mercedes 280. She had just got it back from the garage because she had been in accident. We called the police. They quickly responded -- in 45 minutes. We exchanged information.

The police officer finally came, gathered all the information and returned our licenses and registration. As the officer finished the paperwork the man hung up his phone and putting on a strong face said: "I just found out my mother just died."

The officer said: "I'm sorry, I don't mean to add to your misery but here's a citation. You can appear in court at this date or pay the fine."

Yeah, it could have been worse for me. It certainly was for him.

...dave
I parked my car in a tow-away zone and when I got back the entire area was gone. -- Steven Wright

We are going separate ways

I guess eventually it was bound to happen. She and me parting ways, going separate directions. It's not that I don't love her anymore. I do. But I think it's better this way.

We met not too long ago, her and I. We've been all over Georgia together. We were always together. Early morning, braced against the fog, we'd ride to work together. At lunch, we were inseparable. Returning home from work, we'd travel together. I was content in her embrace.

But it's time. She's still beautiful to look at, her subtle curves. I love to listen to the purr of her voice. But all of that can't pay for her habits. She has very expensive habits. She is high maintenance.

I simply can't afford her anymore.

And so we part.

Goodbye my Boxster love.

...dave
"There Is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go" -Tennessee Williams

Dust Art

I've sketched on a paper, whiteboard, chalkboard, concrete, but never in the dust of a car window.

Kind of looks fun. But check this out. Scott Wade draws works of art on the back window of his Mini Cooper.

Fantastic stuff.

Even when I have the best of tools, I can't get these results.

...dave
There are no rules, only tools. ~ Glenn Vilppu (renowned animator).

I Believe...in finding myself?

Brian Grazer was on NPR yesterday. I listened to his "I Believe" story.

The "I Believe" is a three minute monologue from someone (sometimes a famous person) about their core belief. Anyone can contribute (see http://www.npr.org/thisibelieve/agree.html).

Sometimes the story is light, like "There's no such thing as too much barbecue." Other times it's serious and thought provoking, for example "Human existence is in peril."

I must say though, usually it's vapid.

Not that Brian Grazer's "Disrupting my comfort zone" fits that category but it WAS sorta silly. I mean, a man of 45 still looking for himself? At least that's the essence of what he said. I think his exact words were: "bombarding myself with challenging people and situations." Fidel Castro was one of the people on his list to 'challenge him.' Come on, Castro? Is this going to help one grow? The way I see it, if you haven't found yourself at 45, you are truly lost. Sure you may be financially successful, but you're still living without purpose.

Besides, I've never understood the term: "I need to find myself." What is that anyway? What is a lost "self?" I can understand lonely. I can understand someone who has lost direction in life, or someone who is sad, or has fear. But a 'need to find yourself?' This doesn't resonate true with me.

Sometimes I'll hear that the person is going on some retreat, hiking in the back country, meditating on their belly button, or something just as ridiculous. Trying to find oneself while alone in a forest is like trying to find your way home without a map. It's challenging yes, but it will not lead you to a safe destination. We don't gain understanding or find direction, we don't gain friends and strengthen families by isolating ourselves. That's what terrorists and unibombers do. They become so self-absorbed that they no longer fit in with society, nor can they even relate to their own relatives. Isolation is the recipe for personal disaster.

Don't get me wrong. Slowing down I get. My favorite "I Believe" so far was "The practice of slowing down" by Phil Powers. It was real, it was practical, and it just made sense. Perfect sense.

But "finding oneself" just doesn't get it for me.

...dave
How do I find myself? I've never lost myself yet. -Charlie McCarthy

Flakes

Flakes, you know you've gata love 'em, in all their nutty variety. Flakes, and I'm taking people flakes not cereal flakes, drive me crazy. People flakes are a lot like cereal flakes now that I think about it. They are light, not very filling, and just take up room in the box. In the words of Paul McCartney: "Where DO they all come from?"

Like the man and wife team I met last weekend. They called from two hours away and wanted to look at the car. I met them Saturday afternoon. Seemed nice enough but they'd been in an argument on the way. Their tempers had ignited about a traffic jam I think they said, they looked frayed.

Bob was checking out the car and and asked all kinds of questions. Meanwhile Mary, or whatever her name was, pawed through the repair records I brought in a manila folder.

I asked them if they knew much about Boxsters. "No" they lied in unison. Later I discovered they have been looking at Boxsters for two years.

Since the car has just two seats, and I wasn't about to send a strange couple on their way alone, I took Bob for a drive first. I let him drive through some twisties and we returned for Mary's turn.

She'd been drinking a bit. Maybe to dull the memory of the argument I don't know. I debated letting her drive but I really wanted to sell the car.

I drove her to a less traveled road and let her drive me through the turns. I saw my life flash before me when she took the turns hard. I was glad to get back behind the wheel.

We made a deal and they were going to call and confirm within two hours one way or the other. I waited but never heard from them again.

Until two DAYS later.

"Car still for sale?" Bob asked in a friendly way.

"Sure. Are you still interested? I thought you folks were going to call me in a couple of hours?"

"We were? Oh, didn't realize that. I'm sorry for the mixup. You know you said you'd be willing to drive the car half way. Are you still in agreement with that?"

"Yeah, sure." I said. I'm a man of my word. If I say something, I tend to follow through.

"One other thing. Would you have the oil changed too?"

"Sure. How did you want me to handle the cost?"

"I want you to do it before I pick it up. You pay."

"Bob. I'm willing to deliver the car to you and have agreed to a price you and I shook hands on just two days ago. The car doesn't need an oil change for another 3,000 miles."

"But I'm concerned about the high mileage and want to make sure it's ready to drive."

Send me the money and find out. No, I didn't say that. Instead I said: "Bob, I'm willing to deliver the car as promised. I'd be willing to have the oil changed instead. But I'm not willing to do both. You choose what you want."

"I'd like to have the oil changed then. I'll come pick up the car."

And so it ended. I put the wheels in motion to pay off the car after I received his deposit of $200. I got a check in the mail two days later and deposited it into my bank. Then he called again on a Friday evening.

"Hi, Dave, is there any chance that I can pick up the car this weekend?"

"Sure, just bring the cash. I'll send you the title when it clears."

"Well, I have the money in the bank. Would you take a personal check?"

"Ah, no, Bob, I won't." I like to have dollars in my hand if someone drives off with my car and parks it two hours away. It's kind of a insecurity thing I have I guess.

Is this guy for real?

"Well, then that means I'd have to pick it up next week? Next weekend is Father's Day!"

"Great, consider it a gift to yourself then."

"No, but I'm divorced and I have only that weekend to visit my kids. I can't come next weekend. I've been looking at Boxsters for two years. That will mean another week before I get it."

"Then what's a couple more weeks. It's parked in the garage, it will have new oil in it, and I'll even clean it up for you. It'll be all ready for you the week after next. Ready to go."

"Would you consider letting me back out of this deal? Can you send me my check back?"

What a flake.

...dave
He was a few flakes short of a full box. - Dave Terry

Sitting at Barnes & Noble

I'm trying to sell my Boxster. I'm sitting here in front of Barnes & Noble drinking a huge mug of dark coffee.

It's 5:00 p.m. in the afternoon. I've decided to park the Boxster right here out front with the FOR SALE sign on it and watch the people go by. Already a red neck on a cell phone said to me: "Nice car!" And I returned: "You'd look good in this."

Lots of folks are walking by and looking at it. Even a little girl likes it. It's her size. I've got the top down so folks can walk right up and look inside, kind of visualize themselves driving. I'm thinking someone may call the number on the sign not knowing it's my car. I'm right out front so I could just walk right up to them from behind.

Wait, some old codger is dialing and looking at the car. That's cool. He actually looks like he could afford it. Oh, wait, my phone isn't ringing. Never mind. False alarm. He's calling someone else. The nerve, standing in front of MY car, looking at MY sign, and then calling another number. What is he thinking? Rats, I thought I had a live one there for a moment.

There sure is a lot of people traffic here. I hope this works. It's posted on a web site at www.autosahead.com and as a result I got a call from a guy yesterday. Maybe with the better weather more will call.

Meanwhile I'll sketch, study and read and wait for my phone to ring.

...dave
Many of us spend half our time wishing for things we could have if we didn't spend half our time wishing. -Alexander Woollcott

Beautiful Morning

It was such a beautiful morning going in to work today. And because of the holidays, there was hardly anyone on the roads. I wish it was like this everyday.

The parking garage was also empty. At 9:00 this morning there were half the cars then normal. I guess everyone is taking advantage of the holidays. We've got two Mondays off in a roll. If you take just four vacation days you get 10 days off from work.

So consequently it was extremely quiet today. No activity at all. Coffee, email, and tech books was the work for today.

...dave
If there were no hypothetical questions what would this say?

360 Degree Spins

I know some do it on purpose but I didn't. It's strange to see the world in a 360 degree spin, that is, outside of a carnival.

It was early morning and dark when a car in front of me did a zig so I did a zag. It looked like I cleared him so I gave it a little gas just to put some distance between us. I crested a slight hill and that lifted the car just enough to break my traction. Within seconds I was facing him, then I wasn't, and then I was. As the car spun I got to see all four compass points. Coowl.

A car with a mid-engine likes to spin so I pointed into the turn, let off the gas, and went for a ride. When it slowed just enough I corrected in hopes of proceeding on my way forward. But the car had another idea, and started to spin in the other direction. Finally, it came to a stop in the middle of the road with drivers gawking at me from both directions.

That's it, I'm going to get my rear tires replaced.

How much?

Don't ask.

Oh yeah, I posted some more pictures here. If you liked the others, you may like these. If you didn't like the others, then, well, why are you, oh never mind.

...dave
Yesterday is a cancelled check; Tomorrow is a promissory note; Today is the only cash you have, so spend it wisely. -Kim Lyons

Riding Home

I often talk about how great it is to feel the wind in your face with the top down but to understand it is to feel it.

I think that's why people love horseback riding. In a way, I'm riding 225 horses home from work. I get the same wind in my face. Maybe a little more wind since I'm riding more than just a single horse, but just as fun all the same.

My favorite part is coming up Bernt Hickory. It's beautiful. It runs through the park, and now the trees are all turning. It's absolutely the most beautiful thing you could ever experience.

The two lane rode twists and lingers up and through the mild hills of Kennesaw park. The trees lean toward me, tunnel-like. I smell flower and pine fragrances blow past me in whips of wind in the straight away and and gentle breezes in corners . Some hills roll up and down to my right and left in gentle pastures or in huge lawn carpets ending at massive stone homes nestled in the hills. The sun filters through the leaves, and fingers of light tickle my face as I race along the ribbon of road through sun dappled trees.

What could be more peaceful, what could be more beautiful than an open-top ride home after work on a cool autumn day?

...dave
Everything in life is speaking in spite of it's apparent silence. -Hazrat Inayat Khan