New Beginnings
03/31/08 07:21 AM | Projectile | Permalink
A process has begun. I just needed to gripe about stagnation and the waters began to move. I should gripe about other problems. Maybe change will be my new cause.
After yesterdays whining post I decided to head out Bruce Clark's way even without a call. Jenni and I called when we got there. His house is beautiful. His collection of parts and the antique watercraft he is restoring are amazing.
Within five minutes of arriving I had located the elusive shift selector rod on a transmission he had out of a 5 series. Next came a replacement grill, a window motor for the drivers rear door, and then the much needed exhaust pipes and mufflers and lastly a whole door for the passenger side. Tonight after work I will be dropping the drive shaft and getting a look at the shift selector tranny coupling point. Hopefully the hard part will be the drive shaft and not the transmission with the limited working space in the hump-tunnel. If that goes well then the exhaust system will be next. If that does not go well then I may need to drop the transmission to get a better working angle. Wish for me a well going. I hope to have the care rolling under it's own power before the end of the week, and my supreme wish is that you not hear me coming form three blocks away when it does.
This is all wishing on a star part. The hard to find selector rod. This is the process begun. I will most likely have mechanics knuckles for a few days so don't think me unclean, it is just grease in cuts caused by tender loving an old BMW back to health.
Wish me luck.
Chuck Pace © 2008
After yesterdays whining post I decided to head out Bruce Clark's way even without a call. Jenni and I called when we got there. His house is beautiful. His collection of parts and the antique watercraft he is restoring are amazing.
Within five minutes of arriving I had located the elusive shift selector rod on a transmission he had out of a 5 series. Next came a replacement grill, a window motor for the drivers rear door, and then the much needed exhaust pipes and mufflers and lastly a whole door for the passenger side. Tonight after work I will be dropping the drive shaft and getting a look at the shift selector tranny coupling point. Hopefully the hard part will be the drive shaft and not the transmission with the limited working space in the hump-tunnel. If that goes well then the exhaust system will be next. If that does not go well then I may need to drop the transmission to get a better working angle. Wish for me a well going. I hope to have the care rolling under it's own power before the end of the week, and my supreme wish is that you not hear me coming form three blocks away when it does.
This is all wishing on a star part. The hard to find selector rod. This is the process begun. I will most likely have mechanics knuckles for a few days so don't think me unclean, it is just grease in cuts caused by tender loving an old BMW back to health.
Wish me luck.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Parts Falling Apart
Car Part: It is all hurry up and wait. It is all, "On Your Marks, Get Set....." There is no go. Not yet. My anxious nature is not capable of handling this much longer. The BMW parts world has all but abandoned me. The folks in California have been given two chances to send me a list of parts available and prices based on a master list of needs I have faxed to them. They have all my digits, my e-mails and my desires. They have not contacted me as of yet in any way. "They say that patience is a virtue, but I haven't got the time", "Psycho Killer", David Byrne and the Talking Heads, 1977. My other contact person, Bruce C. a recommendation from LeAnne Bailey has not come through for me yet either. I have spoken to him multiple times on the phone and given him my requested parts needs, but as yet he has failed to be available on three occasions when I was able to drive the 45 miles to see him, and he has yet to return one of my calls. I'm starting to think that this may be a "One Sided Love Affair". (Re: Elvis Presley: 1956, side 1 track 4; Written by Bill Campbell, with the musical greats Floyd Cramer, Chet Atkins and Scotty Moore, Shorty Long, Bill Black and D.J.Fontana among others). I contacted Bruce C. at 12:01 this afternoon (one digit after noon, none the less after noon) as yet here at 2:45 he has yet to call back.
Bowling Part: There is just three weeks between me and not bowling anymore I fear. The eight year love/hate relationship with kegling may be nearing a divorce, if not at least a self-restraining order. Jenni and I stopped at the Chatterbox last night hoping to have a run in with the Gary's CC girls and a couple of Betties. Well if they showed up it was after we gave up. After an Hour and a half of being inert, inertia held sway without swaying and we went to Bazbeaux Pizza just a few scant yards from the "Box" (note: the only yards that are near the "Box" are Paved ones, an enterprising youth with his own lawn cutting company would starve to death in the Art & Theatre District). Once inside the pizza emporium we were ushered to the subterranean chambers where we ordered a Hawaiian Pizza for two, and got to hear some of the worlds loud and clueless expound upon the virtues of Mark getting drunk and arrested. Apparently in some diction circles "Oh my God" has replaced "Uh" as the filler of choice, while the brain catches up with the steam of expelled verbiage at a volume level sufficient enough to have every table looking at the one just behind and to the left of mine. The culprit was a twenty something co-ed with eight of her friends (I didn't notice if the others were wearing ear-protection like Rich and I wear when we are in Bristol, or not). To my Great Expectation those little Dickens' left as we did so we got to hear and share in the telling of Mark's arrest twice. To clear the air we headed towards home, and stopped at the All Star Bowl on the East side (only 3.8 miles from the World HQ I might add) just to look around. It is big, 48 non-synthetic lanes, but I don't know if I have the desire to start over in a new house, and I don't want to patronize the Royal Pain Bowlin' Sinners again after my tenure is up at Sport Bowl. I will go for the car give-away tournament since I am registered for that, and will gladly take their Mustang if I am lucky enough to make it to the final round and dinner, but as far as giving them my hard earned entertainment dollars. They get bubkis! I may be rolling my last league ball in three weeks, If I am even in town.
Vacation Part: Well with all this strife in my life I may have to let down myself and my wife. Times and travels, money and misfortune may have me calling to cancel my Mystery Vacation plans for the near & foreseeable future. The death of the Mädchen and the search for a few parts for the Blue Frankenstein in the garage on jack stands have left me motivationally and financially immobilized. My vacation starts on my birthday, April 14th: a day truly blessed with history.
Happened on April 14th: The day the Donner Party departed Springfield Illinois in 1846, the Titanic strikes an iceberg in 1912, the Assassination of Lincoln in 1865, Black Sunday; when 20 Dust Storms laid siege to the great Plains and turned day into night in 1945. Also the day that Don Ho(2007), Burl Ives(1995), Anthony Newley (1999), Pete Farndon of the Pretenders (1983), and Frederic March (1975) died. And still more on April 14th, that day that Rod Steiger, Kenneth Marrs, Erich VonDäniken, Pete Rose (baseball scoundrel), Richard Jenni (comedian, suicide 07), Ritchie Blackmore (Deep Purple), Greg Maddux and "Buffy The Vampier Slayer;"Sarah Michelle Geller (1977) was born.
I am in a sort of stasis, Neither stopping or going, incapable of moving, while around me, I can't stop plans or things from falling apart. I think Jenni and I are going to head out to the parts Farm and see if we can see the Mystery Mr.C, and drop some green for my Blue Frankenstein who was needed to be reborn on the day of my Valentine.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Knock Down, Drag Out
I was not called upon to bowl last night, I had the night off from subbing in the 10 for 13 leagues final evening. I thought I'd just go and spectate since there was a heated contest for the top three spots. Three of the four Chatterbox teams were sitting 1,2,3 when the night started, the forth team was hanging on by their fingernails in 10th place. It promised to be an exciting and eventful evening.
That turns out to be an understatement. Before the games began it was announced that the alley, the states oldest continually run bowling establishment, and the 6th oldest in the nation would be closing forever on or around May 5th. An institution itself the Sport Bowl is about to see its 10th frame. The beginning of the end started when Royal Pin leisure centers bought the financially strapped independent lanes two years ago. Now they are closing and selling of the property, and Rich and I will have no more playground to play at because of the big bully that has eaten everybody's lunch.
Game 1: Rich Culy's team Chatterbox 4 started the night in 1st place just one point ahead of Chatterbox 3 and Mike Wilson's team. Christianna H. and Judy G. (two of Rich's girls) started big with strikes but Jeff Barber and Andy Krull, Wilson's warriors for game one countered. By the third frame the Wilsonaters had taken a lead that would not be reversed and in the end even though Christianna had her league highest game with a 125, Jeff's 181 and Andy's 156 also personal bests carried team 3 to a 90 pin victory. After one Chatterbox 4 and 3 were Tied. Meanwhile Chatterbox 1 David Andrichik's Team had a simple mission, win them all and take over 2nd place or ideally 1st. To that end they vanquished league team 4 (with their clever name Team 4) with a 810 to 761 tally. Down on the end of the 10 for 13 lanes Chatterbox 2, Kris Bowman's team struggled and lost by 86 to their opponents, even though LeAnne Bailey pulled her L-Train to a new high 117 pins.
Game 2: Rich and his girls got back on top, Andy and Jeff both were open through the 1st 6 frames, while Christianna and Judy stayed strong, and Rich's team with Rich and Kay struggling a bit below their averages still managed to erase all but 5 pins of the Wilson teams pin count lead and easily took game 2. Next to them Chatterbox 1 quietly and efficiently took game two with a crushing 10th frame turkey for David and a 206 from Will. With a split from Rich and Wilson's teams Chatterbox 1 pulled into a tie for 1st. Team 2 on the other end still struggled even though LeAnne dropped another 116 bomb on the competition. Paul Burns and Kris struggled, and Jeremy Hatch's 144 was not enough to push them over the top.
Game 3: Rich and his girls take the last game and Wilson's team slides to 3rd. Team Andrichik, still hitting on all cylinders takes the third game and leap-frogs the other two into 1st place. Bailey, Burns, Hatch and Bowman take the last game but end up dropping below the Betties who came in in 11th place. When the figurative dust settled Chatterbox 1, 4 and 3 were 1,2, 3 and Chatterbox 2 won last place. I stayed and bowled with Kris, Leanne, Paul, Paula Watson (from yet another non-Chatterbox team) and Rich while David A and Donna Hiatt (from Paula's team) spectated. I had three games right around 170, and called it a night. This was the last time all of us would bowl together at the Sport Bowl as the twilight claims the history and happiness at 3900 S. East street. Friday's league has two weeks left, Sunday's has three, then it's adios amigo's.
Chuck Pace © 2008
That turns out to be an understatement. Before the games began it was announced that the alley, the states oldest continually run bowling establishment, and the 6th oldest in the nation would be closing forever on or around May 5th. An institution itself the Sport Bowl is about to see its 10th frame. The beginning of the end started when Royal Pin leisure centers bought the financially strapped independent lanes two years ago. Now they are closing and selling of the property, and Rich and I will have no more playground to play at because of the big bully that has eaten everybody's lunch.
Game 2: Rich and his girls got back on top, Andy and Jeff both were open through the 1st 6 frames, while Christianna and Judy stayed strong, and Rich's team with Rich and Kay struggling a bit below their averages still managed to erase all but 5 pins of the Wilson teams pin count lead and easily took game 2. Next to them Chatterbox 1 quietly and efficiently took game two with a crushing 10th frame turkey for David and a 206 from Will. With a split from Rich and Wilson's teams Chatterbox 1 pulled into a tie for 1st. Team 2 on the other end still struggled even though LeAnne dropped another 116 bomb on the competition. Paul Burns and Kris struggled, and Jeremy Hatch's 144 was not enough to push them over the top.
Game 3: Rich and his girls take the last game and Wilson's team slides to 3rd. Team Andrichik, still hitting on all cylinders takes the third game and leap-frogs the other two into 1st place. Bailey, Burns, Hatch and Bowman take the last game but end up dropping below the Betties who came in in 11th place. When the figurative dust settled Chatterbox 1, 4 and 3 were 1,2, 3 and Chatterbox 2 won last place. I stayed and bowled with Kris, Leanne, Paul, Paula Watson (from yet another non-Chatterbox team) and Rich while David A and Donna Hiatt (from Paula's team) spectated. I had three games right around 170, and called it a night. This was the last time all of us would bowl together at the Sport Bowl as the twilight claims the history and happiness at 3900 S. East street. Friday's league has two weeks left, Sunday's has three, then it's adios amigo's.
Chuck Pace © 2008Easterly
Back to Easter: Easter has fallen on my birthday three times since my entry into this earthly realm. 1963, I don't remember this one (being only three at the time). 1968, this one was a bummer, we lived in Swayzee and had all my cousins in from Marion for an egg hunt and a big day partying, it wasn't all about the guy who just turned 8, it was about cousins. I needed to be the center of attention, yet I was almost an afterthought or so it seemed. 1974, what do 8th graders care of Easter? I don't remember this one either.
Oh no!, Jenni just brought out a bag of Robin's Eggs (whoppers in tiny egg shapes) and a plastic egg full of Reese's miniatures. At least there is no chartreuse or magenta plastigrass. I forgive her and hope I don't get a belly ache from eating half the booty as I sit here quibbling and nibbling.
Speaking of birthdays and Easter I know someone else who has had b-days fall on her special "all about me" day too. DeAnne Roth, shared her special day with her family the rest of the world in '78 and '89. I doubt she remembers the first one any more than I did mine. Well I have exhausted my hunt for eggs to drop in your virtual baskets and so I head to the mid-day mark and the garage to look at the Blue Bimmer in from another side (underneath).
Nearing the End
Yesterday After Work...
Well it was a quiet evening at Rancho Pooro. All day long my interior and exterior self was in distress. My Whole right side was sore, my back, gluteus area, thigh and knee in particular were making me hobble and unhappy. So yesterday after work we watched two more episodes of Buffy. Then, I hobbles to the World HQ and Techsies, two chapters for the Next Dummies Book. That out of the way I takes a fist full of pain-relievers and floppsies into the horizontal rest-room. This morning I was able to stand up as I got out of the bed. Not being crouched over and forcing the wheels of injury to right my ship of fool was a pleasant surprise. We will see what we shall see as the hours tick away and the meds are burned.
Like I said I am currently tech editing my third book for Wiley Publishing (in the process more accurately, "currently" I'm being absurd and over dramatic for the sake of nonce). I received a copy of the first one I did in my very own Snail-Mail holding receptacle about two weeks ago. Here is the proof that as a reader I can proof read, and make valuable contributions to the world other than my amazing Daughter Meredith (even here I was at best a co-publisher but it was a work most monumental).
You might even go so far as to say that Meredith is my raison d'é•tra, I have no other purpose of accomplishment that I am more proud of.
Chuck Pace © 2008
You might even go so far as to say that Meredith is my raison d'é•tra, I have no other purpose of accomplishment that I am more proud of.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Turkey Fryer
Generalizations. That is what I am about. That is what everybody is about. Or is that just my first of many generalizations this post?
About two months ago a real life Fryer in heavy brown robe with wooden cross and rope belt came into the store to get is ire out out of his element. He was not a happy camper. He did not prostrate himself, or show the good will or love of man that I would have thought he should have projected. He argued, groused and quibbled. After he left I did a drawing of myself as a fryer or monk myself and told Bob that I may have to be one on halloween this year. The tonsure alone is worth the price of admission. But from this chance meeting with the pretentious, pious prick I can say all Fryers are jerks. Generalization number 2.
Yesterday after work...
Remember the best posts start with. Yesterday after work...
I drove Rich's GP to work so I had to drive it and the missus back home before I could fulfill my sublimation substitution as a kegler in the very 10 for 13 beer and pizza league I spoke of in yesterdays riveting and captivating post. Rich and the team failed on the first two occasions to impress upon the tower of power boys that we were the #1 team in that league. In the vernacular of the keglers we lost. Then in defiance and with undaunted optimism we rebounded and took the last game and two whole points. On several occasions I had an opportunity to get three in a row for a turkey. I failed on those occasions last night, even if I were wearing my halloween tonsure and robes I could not have been a Turkey Fryer. I should be flogged.
Before I shaved all of my hair off this time, to promote the well being of spring and warmer weather (a sacrifice to the hair goddess Pa'Ti LaBel) I tonsured myself in a fashion not unlike my caricature of months before.
Chuck Pace © 2008
About two months ago a real life Fryer in heavy brown robe with wooden cross and rope belt came into the store to get is ire out out of his element. He was not a happy camper. He did not prostrate himself, or show the good will or love of man that I would have thought he should have projected. He argued, groused and quibbled. After he left I did a drawing of myself as a fryer or monk myself and told Bob that I may have to be one on halloween this year. The tonsure alone is worth the price of admission. But from this chance meeting with the pretentious, pious prick I can say all Fryers are jerks. Generalization number 2.
Yesterday after work...
I drove Rich's GP to work so I had to drive it and the missus back home before I could fulfill my sublimation substitution as a kegler in the very 10 for 13 beer and pizza league I spoke of in yesterdays riveting and captivating post. Rich and the team failed on the first two occasions to impress upon the tower of power boys that we were the #1 team in that league. In the vernacular of the keglers we lost. Then in defiance and with undaunted optimism we rebounded and took the last game and two whole points. On several occasions I had an opportunity to get three in a row for a turkey. I failed on those occasions last night, even if I were wearing my halloween tonsure and robes I could not have been a Turkey Fryer. I should be flogged.
Before I shaved all of my hair off this time, to promote the well being of spring and warmer weather (a sacrifice to the hair goddess Pa'Ti LaBel) I tonsured myself in a fashion not unlike my caricature of months before.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Lunacy
So... Yesterday after work, on St. Patricks Day Jenni and I went to the Chatterbox for a few Harps, not the kind toted by cherubim or Gallant women, the kind in a bottle. A Bier. Or even better straight from a tap. I digress again. Blah, blah, blah... Chatterbox, Travis, Kay and Mel, Judy and David, Paul Burns, DeAnne, Rachel oh and Rich back from Bristol (not the one on the British Isles inappropriately enough). Also making their first appearance at the Chatterbox was Donna, Paula and Lori from the 10 for 13 league.
Tonight I will be seeing them again as I sub for Rich's team.
Wow I should have saved the (tagging things) words.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Starting to Remember the Edges
I didn't post yesterday, even though I could have written a couple of years worth of my mistakes, oops I mean memoirs, while I was not sleeping. I had a hurricanes worth of debris swirling in my conscienceness and had to keep ducking the bigger pieces and even when I would drift towards a safe sleep island another gust would come along and capsize the restorative life preserver from the HMS Soma, and I would again be putting on my braincoat to weather the storms. I got up to wander the house at what I thought was 2 AM, I went back and laid on the couch. I got up again a few minutes to get a bottle of water. That's when I saw the devil in rotation. His hands were pointing. The longer one at the 12 minute tick the shorter at the 4 tock! 4:12 AM' zoikes!
Needless to say a lot of my Friday was a daze. A sleep deprived romp through a reality blurry on the edges. I remember little, but I do know that I didn't look forward to bowling after work. I think the melody was The Fifth dimensions "Last Night I didn't get to sleep at all" but just the opening verse over an over in the elevator music center of my mind.
I drove to the alley without a peep. Not a sound on the radio not a thought in my head after I hung up my phone. I was called as I was leaving the alley, by a coworker who said, "Does Rich know that his left tail-light is half full of water?" See, Rich has loaned me his spare car (the Gran Prix) since I am less "motivated" without wheels of my own. After answering that the tail light aquarium has been a feature of this Gran Prix for a long time I drove on in thoughtless silence.
So, at the alley. My kegling compatriots convened. Will Andrichik doing his best Rich Culy substitution dance, and Ed Craig doing his best anchor, he had the ball but lost the chain and we drifted. We were bowling the missing man formation since Tom Pruitt (arguably our most consistent bowler) was out due to his Mother's passing. We lost all games convincingly. I had a decent series, even though I had the gumby tie after the second effort. Game one 202, two, 129 three a rally of sorts 166 for a 497 for a 165 average well over my 153 mark of consistency. Ed Creaig re-inherits the tie for game one next week.
Oh but oh. Last night I slept. I didn't get to see or sing the fifth dimension or any other songs. Because I slept last night. I nearly got to sing some Mama's and Papa's when a mid nocturne coughing fit brought up some of the evenings repast and only by choking awake did I get to awake at all.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Needless to say a lot of my Friday was a daze. A sleep deprived romp through a reality blurry on the edges. I remember little, but I do know that I didn't look forward to bowling after work. I think the melody was The Fifth dimensions "Last Night I didn't get to sleep at all" but just the opening verse over an over in the elevator music center of my mind.
I drove to the alley without a peep. Not a sound on the radio not a thought in my head after I hung up my phone. I was called as I was leaving the alley, by a coworker who said, "Does Rich know that his left tail-light is half full of water?" See, Rich has loaned me his spare car (the Gran Prix) since I am less "motivated" without wheels of my own. After answering that the tail light aquarium has been a feature of this Gran Prix for a long time I drove on in thoughtless silence.
Oh but oh. Last night I slept. I didn't get to see or sing the fifth dimension or any other songs. Because I slept last night. I nearly got to sing some Mama's and Papa's when a mid nocturne coughing fit brought up some of the evenings repast and only by choking awake did I get to awake at all.
Chuck Pace © 2008
Down In Limbo
I am waiting. Voodoo Warning! I am waiting. We're Waiting??? Waiting for the insurance check. Waiting for a parts price list from California. Waiting for Sunday. Waiting for a chance to start rebuilding our shattered miserable lives. Or at least our cars. Waiting for the End of the World. Stuck like a ant in amber. Like a Sabre-tooth in the tar pits. Like a Moth to a Flame? Oh No. Down, and in LIMBO. I want to tango, but it takes two. It's calling, but I'm waiting....
Limbo, Bryan Ferry/Patrick Leonard, Bette Noir, Bryan Ferry's, 1987
Voodoo warning
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Come with me now
A moth to a flame
You never get near enough
You try again
Closer now
Oh how we dance
The spirit holding usIng a trance
Bamboo dancer
No stranger
Down in limbo
Can you tango?
Takes two to
Down in limbo
You are the one
Now is the time
Let your memory beat the drum
On the street car line
Voodoo warning
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Creole tattoo
I buy you
Down in limbo
Heartbeat you mistreat
I owe you
Down in limbo
Chuck Pace © 2008
Limbo, Bryan Ferry/Patrick Leonard, Bette Noir, Bryan Ferry's, 1987
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Come with me now
A moth to a flame
You never get near enough
You try again
Closer now
Oh how we dance
The spirit holding usIng a trance
Bamboo dancer
No stranger
Down in limbo
Can you tango?
Takes two to
Down in limbo
You are the one
Now is the time
Let your memory beat the drum
On the street car line
Voodoo warning
Is calling
Down in limbo
Moonlight lush life
Bears strange fruit
Down in limbo
Creole tattoo
I buy you
Down in limbo
Heartbeat you mistreat
I owe you
Down in limbo
Knocked Down Fighting
I have a hole in my foot. It is healing nicely. Tomorrow I go in to see Dr. Gray again. Just a routine how the heck are you healing session. Luckily I am out of the limping limbo and living larger than in the last weeks. I am walking like a duck no more, I may still be lame but it is not in my gait.
I have an old car in my garage, it is still lame. It is in limbo, I am still waiting for my price list from my super secret source in California. Down in limbo. How low can you go?
Like I said, recovery is in both of our futures. I bowled on Sunday. I had a 153 average on the "Nothing Better to Do League". I hadn't picked up my pin assassin in two weeks. It was a test. I passed. Game 1: 152, just one under. Game 2: 154 one over and dead on my average after two, game 3: 186. I made it! I am back. I was a little concerned about the foot, it throbbed for a bit but it held up to being put down, and came back kicking. I can walk the walk again.
Test number two. Last night I had a plan. I planned on going to the Chatterbox to see Eran, a high school friend who was going to be in that area dropping the boys off at the Murat. Not all of my plans go according to design, duh. David Andrichik needed a sub on his Chatterbox 1 team. I answered the call. I called Eran on the way to the kegling and told her I was not at the "box" she said I know, I am.
So I arrived at the bowling palace where I have a 164 average on this league. I am the ringer. I am the sub for any of the four Chatterbox teams. I answered the call. "A" game time, game one: 176, a good twelve over the the required mark. Good enough, we won game one. Game two I started with 4 strikes an 8/ and two more strikes and ended with a 223, (you don't need to be Eli Stone to say WHAM!). Our opponents brought their game too in game 2 and we only won by 7 pins, even with the Colossus of Rolleds only missing a deuce and a quarter by 2. Game three, I have a legitimate shot at a 600 series. Sure I would need a 201. Sure I didn't get. I still managed to be the pit boss for 170 of those oddly shaped targets. I pulled a 569 series and am still the man! Like the car woes, and the foot fouls and the daily grind. I will survive. I guess you could say that I was knocked down fighting too.
Chuck Pace © 2008
I have an old car in my garage, it is still lame. It is in limbo, I am still waiting for my price list from my super secret source in California. Down in limbo. How low can you go?
Like I said, recovery is in both of our futures. I bowled on Sunday. I had a 153 average on the "Nothing Better to Do League". I hadn't picked up my pin assassin in two weeks. It was a test. I passed. Game 1: 152, just one under. Game 2: 154 one over and dead on my average after two, game 3: 186. I made it! I am back. I was a little concerned about the foot, it throbbed for a bit but it held up to being put down, and came back kicking. I can walk the walk again.
Test number two. Last night I had a plan. I planned on going to the Chatterbox to see Eran, a high school friend who was going to be in that area dropping the boys off at the Murat. Not all of my plans go according to design, duh. David Andrichik needed a sub on his Chatterbox 1 team. I answered the call. I called Eran on the way to the kegling and told her I was not at the "box" she said I know, I am.
So I arrived at the bowling palace where I have a 164 average on this league. I am the ringer. I am the sub for any of the four Chatterbox teams. I answered the call. "A" game time, game one: 176, a good twelve over the the required mark. Good enough, we won game one. Game two I started with 4 strikes an 8/ and two more strikes and ended with a 223, (you don't need to be Eli Stone to say WHAM!). Our opponents brought their game too in game 2 and we only won by 7 pins, even with the Colossus of Rolleds only missing a deuce and a quarter by 2. Game three, I have a legitimate shot at a 600 series. Sure I would need a 201. Sure I didn't get. I still managed to be the pit boss for 170 of those oddly shaped targets. I pulled a 569 series and am still the man! Like the car woes, and the foot fouls and the daily grind. I will survive. I guess you could say that I was knocked down fighting too.
Doing Something At Least
03/09/08 03:06 PM | Projectile | Permalink
Jenni and I went to the place where the little '85 325e (E30) was waiting. I had the money in my pocket. I drove the car. I liked the car. It needed some TLC just like I predicted. I could have done most of the TLC stuff I'm sure. I could have bought the car. Jenni was cramped in it. It is too small, needs work and... I didn't buy the car.
The Blue Horror, 5er is ready for a push into the pod bay HAL.
So back home yesterday I rolled the '86 535i (5er) blue horror down the drive and into the street. Then with the truck behind and Jenni steering the 5er I slowly pushed it up the drive slope and into the garage. Once in the lair of the Missing Madchen I started assessing the "needs" of the 5er (a better knick-name than Blue Horror for the '86). Jenni (the cyber-geek) found me a great parts resource for BMW parts, I sent them a want list. Hopefully I will get a price list on Monday. I plan on using the insurance face-slap Madchen money to bring parts from California to The World HQ and getting the "Blue" on the grey ribbon before the green returns to the garden. That would get me into the pink again.
The 5er is ready for reconstruction. Parts, sweat and cursing to follow.
To that effect, after I redeposited the 325e money into bank. I bought a battery to get the now garaged 5er running again. After priming the EFI (electronic Fuel injection) for a minute she fired up. The noise was deafening in the garage since she lacks a full exhaust system (on the list), and I immediately had to shut her down since the fuel lines were starting to deteriorate and there was gas leaking. I have had one car burn up in front of me and I wasn't going to have another one burn up inside my garage! Another trip to O'reilly auto parts and hoses and new clamps were purchased. By 5 o'clock I had the 5er running without drooling. By nightfall I had the computer reprogrammed, and the windows (that used to work) re-wired and working too. Soon I hope to have the transmission parts to get motive again, and depending on the price-list more parts will be coming too. If I had the money to buy the little 325e and fix up this beast I would have two Bimmers again that need some TLC. As is I hope to get the 5er rolling soon. We shall see where this latest adventure takes me. At least I'm not just sitting and moping any more. Life goes on. Like the Dude, I will abide. I will abide.
Text and images
Chuck Pace © 2008
The Blue Horror, 5er is ready for a push into the pod bay HAL.
So back home yesterday I rolled the '86 535i (5er) blue horror down the drive and into the street. Then with the truck behind and Jenni steering the 5er I slowly pushed it up the drive slope and into the garage. Once in the lair of the Missing Madchen I started assessing the "needs" of the 5er (a better knick-name than Blue Horror for the '86). Jenni (the cyber-geek) found me a great parts resource for BMW parts, I sent them a want list. Hopefully I will get a price list on Monday. I plan on using the insurance face-slap Madchen money to bring parts from California to The World HQ and getting the "Blue" on the grey ribbon before the green returns to the garden. That would get me into the pink again.
The 5er is ready for reconstruction. Parts, sweat and cursing to follow.
To that effect, after I redeposited the 325e money into bank. I bought a battery to get the now garaged 5er running again. After priming the EFI (electronic Fuel injection) for a minute she fired up. The noise was deafening in the garage since she lacks a full exhaust system (on the list), and I immediately had to shut her down since the fuel lines were starting to deteriorate and there was gas leaking. I have had one car burn up in front of me and I wasn't going to have another one burn up inside my garage! Another trip to O'reilly auto parts and hoses and new clamps were purchased. By 5 o'clock I had the 5er running without drooling. By nightfall I had the computer reprogrammed, and the windows (that used to work) re-wired and working too. Soon I hope to have the transmission parts to get motive again, and depending on the price-list more parts will be coming too. If I had the money to buy the little 325e and fix up this beast I would have two Bimmers again that need some TLC. As is I hope to get the 5er rolling soon. We shall see where this latest adventure takes me. At least I'm not just sitting and moping any more. Life goes on. Like the Dude, I will abide. I will abide.
Chuck Pace © 2008
I Got No Car and it's Breakin' my Heart.
03/07/08 06:54 AM | Projectile | Permalink
The prospects are few. The candidates are mostly lame, unqualified and or out of reach. There were four in the running at the beginning that had my interest. One turned out to be a total scam artist and a liar, she is disqualified and should probably be exposed as the crook that she is. She was even selling herself as continuing her husbands good work. She is not, she will say anything to anyone to get the deal sealed. Jenni caught her in a simple but damning move yesterday. She asked for the vin number and she supplied it. It is not even the same car, the one that was on Craig's List was black (too good to be true) coupe in pretty great condition. The vin # belongs to a convertible in NYC. Don't lie to my cyber-geek wife Allison.
The next candidate is a beautiful '84 533i currently in Angola, right in our price range but with a foible in the tranny, she won't take 3 gear. Owner says he will probably replace the tranny in the summer if she doesn't sell as is. Says there are trannys available for $500. The latest entry into the race is a peoples car, the little man, the conscientious mans BImmer. This one will need little at the start to just be a daily worker-bee, and could grow into a formidable presence with a few bucks and some TLC.
This guy? A '85 325e which should get around 34 mpg highway and over 22 in town work-outs. Definitely in my budget and ready to drive and ride the hours away. With a little work I could triple the value of this pretty nice foundation. And Gas prices are a big concern too.
The last entry, and Jenni's favorite, is the blue '86 535i in the drive that will take as much moolah to get road worthy again as the little '3' costs, and that depends on finding the parts for the transmission (sounds like the Angola nominee has the same problem that sidelined the blue horror) and getting a real deal on the exhaust system too. Ev en on the road and in peak shape again the Blue is going to drink a lot more gas. Speaking of which, she has a gas leak at the tank or filler neck which could cost me lots of gas in evaporation.
My problem is the primaries are over on Monday morning when I return the Spec-Kia and pay that mini bundle of much needed green for the favor of tempo-transpo.
I like number 3 and I know, like all cheep used cars, (anything in my range money wise) there will be more problems soon, but that will be true of any of the legit choices in my future. If I win the lottery this weekend then we have way more choices, don't we?
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
The next candidate is a beautiful '84 533i currently in Angola, right in our price range but with a foible in the tranny, she won't take 3 gear. Owner says he will probably replace the tranny in the summer if she doesn't sell as is. Says there are trannys available for $500. The latest entry into the race is a peoples car, the little man, the conscientious mans BImmer. This one will need little at the start to just be a daily worker-bee, and could grow into a formidable presence with a few bucks and some TLC.
This guy? A '85 325e which should get around 34 mpg highway and over 22 in town work-outs. Definitely in my budget and ready to drive and ride the hours away. With a little work I could triple the value of this pretty nice foundation. And Gas prices are a big concern too.
The last entry, and Jenni's favorite, is the blue '86 535i in the drive that will take as much moolah to get road worthy again as the little '3' costs, and that depends on finding the parts for the transmission (sounds like the Angola nominee has the same problem that sidelined the blue horror) and getting a real deal on the exhaust system too. Ev en on the road and in peak shape again the Blue is going to drink a lot more gas. Speaking of which, she has a gas leak at the tank or filler neck which could cost me lots of gas in evaporation.
My problem is the primaries are over on Monday morning when I return the Spec-Kia and pay that mini bundle of much needed green for the favor of tempo-transpo.
I like number 3 and I know, like all cheep used cars, (anything in my range money wise) there will be more problems soon, but that will be true of any of the legit choices in my future. If I win the lottery this weekend then we have way more choices, don't we?
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
Today Before Work
Yesterday After Work... the clouds lifted the sun shone and the ice entombed world began its resurrection. That was the physical world. The day itself was sans picnic. Jenni stayed home with a Migraine (she says it was her first in 1 1/2 or 2 years but I remember one last year). I went to work, lunch and home alone just me and my thoughts most dire.
This morning I see Dr. Gray D.P.M. for a follow up foot analysis. Are thee healing bored out pod?
Completely by coincidence as I started the last line my randomized I-Tunes chose "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath as the next song. And as if on cue as I was highlighting the title and artist the import copy which I have not listened to started skipping and failed. Perfection in the form of omen? More coincidence? Just bad luck. Who can say. The next song up "Will You Love Me Tomorrow", Bryan Ferry from the 1993 Album Taxi. I guess I will be deleting The Sabbath.
Back to the foot. Yesterday I noticed some white bits forming inside the Cavern of Karatosis, so I will find out if that is a normal thing for a cauterized area to do. I must know. The soak and dress today are complete. I have a minor throb living inside the affected area; like musak in another room it is not there if the mind is occupied at all, only when I am writing about the port pedestal does the plaintive pound even surface for more than a micro seconds notice, so much better is the feel in the foot from the excised anomaly.
I still may refrain from tomorrows bowling if Dr. Gray has any reservations.
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
Completely by coincidence as I started the last line my randomized I-Tunes chose "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath as the next song. And as if on cue as I was highlighting the title and artist the import copy which I have not listened to started skipping and failed. Perfection in the form of omen? More coincidence? Just bad luck. Who can say. The next song up "Will You Love Me Tomorrow", Bryan Ferry from the 1993 Album Taxi. I guess I will be deleting The Sabbath.
Back to the foot. Yesterday I noticed some white bits forming inside the Cavern of Karatosis, so I will find out if that is a normal thing for a cauterized area to do. I must know. The soak and dress today are complete. I have a minor throb living inside the affected area; like musak in another room it is not there if the mind is occupied at all, only when I am writing about the port pedestal does the plaintive pound even surface for more than a micro seconds notice, so much better is the feel in the foot from the excised anomaly.
I still may refrain from tomorrows bowling if Dr. Gray has any reservations.
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
No News is Good News.
Maybe I should start every post with, Yesterday after work. Nothing happened yesterday after work. Work was the highlight of the whole day it was the slice of spam between the moldy bread of before and after work. I was busy, I ran my self ragged. Then I came home and looked under the wishmas tree to see if there was a miracle new car under it. Nope. No miracles for me. I surfed the web for about 90 minutes then I took my latest book and went to bed. I read for two hours, then rolled over (and over and over) and tried that escape clause known as repose. It didn't work. I woke up. No escape yet. Not only that, I woke just as poor and pathetic as when I finally dropped off the ethereal plane. Not better, not improved; just left with one fewer day on my car rental. Nothing happened yesterday or the day before for that matter which I could or would classify as good news, none of my news is of the good variety right now and thus no news (from me ) is good news (for anybody). I'll be seeing you on the sidewalks of life, wave and smile. I will too, outside anyway.
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
That's What Friends are For
Yesterday after work, feeling a little down and misting from the loss of my madchen and listing to starboard from the hole in my port rudder, Rich Culy and John David Owen asked me to join them for libations at the Old Point. After a few Smid'icks were drowned in our sorrows we headed up to the Chatterbox for another round of rounds, there we were joined by more mutineers, LeAnne Bailey and Kris Bowman. They too commiserated when I disseminated that I felt eviscerated without my Bimmer around me. At 9:20 we decided to drown more miseries in Bazbeaux bounty.
We walked the masonry, concrete and asphalt plank to the pizza and sandwich island without incident, I had switched to water and diet cola beverages by then and soon dispatched an entire 10" Hawaiian Pizza. Merry was made and conversation was pleasant and humourous. I was glad to not have to think about my losses and limbs for a few hours, just enjoying the company of friends not fiends, and fleeing from failures and faults for a few. But that is what friends are for.
I awoke at 7AM this morning and headed out for breakfast fixings no worse for the wear, thanks to two sodas and a pizza, and the good sense to stop in time. If I had continued I might have been more like the lad in this next set of lyrics.
More winsome words of wisdom from the great Elvis Costello, like I said he has something for every situation
Think I look a little green
I never felt this way before
I think somebody's spiked my drink
and that's what friends are for
Baby will you stick by me
Baby everything's gone a little hazy
Baby if I just lay out on the floor
Go ahead and enjoy yourself
That's what friends are for.
That is some wall.. just watch,
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
...wait for it!!
We walked the masonry, concrete and asphalt plank to the pizza and sandwich island without incident, I had switched to water and diet cola beverages by then and soon dispatched an entire 10" Hawaiian Pizza. Merry was made and conversation was pleasant and humourous. I was glad to not have to think about my losses and limbs for a few hours, just enjoying the company of friends not fiends, and fleeing from failures and faults for a few. But that is what friends are for.
I awoke at 7AM this morning and headed out for breakfast fixings no worse for the wear, thanks to two sodas and a pizza, and the good sense to stop in time. If I had continued I might have been more like the lad in this next set of lyrics.
More winsome words of wisdom from the great Elvis Costello, like I said he has something for every situation
Think I look a little green
I never felt this way before
I think somebody's spiked my drink
and that's what friends are for
Baby will you stick by me
Baby everything's gone a little hazy
Baby if I just lay out on the floor
Go ahead and enjoy yourself
That's what friends are for.
That is some wall.. just watch,
Chuck Pace © 2008 |
...wait for it!!