Wow.

The football season is over, I’ve got a new job, housemates are gone, car has been to the shop again, and the Christmas rush has arrived – and during all this time, I haven’t once taken the 15 minutes necessary to update this enthralling autobiography.

When last we left our intrepid hero (that’d be me), I’d just returned from a wonderful Summer vacation. I returned to Atlanta just in time to begin one of the most stressful periods of my life so far.

For starters, the housemate situation wasn’t working out. My house is big enough for two people who aren’t related or for three people if two of them are intimately involved. As Dennis and Keith weren’t my brothers (and none of us is gay), it was just too much. The older of the two, Keith, is a great guy who has absolutely no sense of personal responsibility. In layman’s terms, that means that he doesn’t pay rent. I’d actually discussed this problem with Dennis before the two of them moved in; but Den assured me that, if Keith didn’t pay, then he (Dennis) would pay for both of them. No problem, right?

Partially true. As expected, Keith was constantly short on cash and Dennis ended up paying for him every month. While this was helpful financially, it also led to hard feelings all around. Keith got annoyed with Dennis for frequently reminding him that he needed to pitch in. Dennis got extremely annoyed with Keith for 1)not paying, and 2)not caring. Throw in some alcohol and the two nearly came to blows one night when I wasn’t home. I got home to find my coffee pot shattered and one of my tubas in a spot where it shouldn’t have been (later learned that Dennis had thrown it at Keith).

The next day, I told Dennis that I need for them to move out. Dennis readily agreed – and he was gone within two days.

Keith didn’t leave, however. Seems that he couldn’t find another place to stay (granted, squatting is a tough sell).

Long story short, I didn’t get rid of Keith until late October, after threatening to put all of his stuff in storage and not pay the storage fee. He is currently squatting at another friend’s house in Dunwoody. I still have his bed. Eventually, I will throw it out if he doesn’t come and get it. For now, however, I have my house back and am once again looking for a renter. I have learned, however….

On top of the roommate situation, I also returned to a new job – that of UNIX administrator for BellSouth Entertainment. Have I mentioned that I don’t speak UNIX? See, the idea was that I’d take this job and keep things rolling as well as I could until I was ultimately hired on to administer Windows machines in AT&T’s U-Verse organization, which will be replacing BEI when we go under next year.

This is not me being negative. It has been established that we’re closing next year. But by getting on the platform side of BEI (the part of the company that actually puts the signal out to customers), I ended up on the U-Verse side of operations on paper. I figured it was just a matter of time until I was officially with U-Verse.

Those of you who’ve gone through large corporate mergers before can probably follow my logic. It was a good plan.

Unfortunately, nobody bothered to tell me just how pathetic (read “old”) our existing operations are. Things – important things, like our on-screen program guide – were breaking every day. Our Ad Insertion servers (responsible for embedding advertisements into program streams) are about 10 years old, have no documentation, no redundancy, and are prone to failure – and our president’s stance has been, “I guess if it breaks and you can’t fix it, we’re out of the advertising business.” The Box Drivers (a system that makes sure people who order Pay-Per-View events actually get them) have a tendency to fail at 1:30 every morning.

And, due to my new title, I’m the guy that everything rolls to. I’m supposed to know how to fix it. Talk about on-the-job training!

(For reference purposes, I’m on vacation today. I have been since yesterday. I’ve also been logged in remotely SINCE yesterday, and have already had to fix two program guides and restart our billing services).

But I’m learning, and I can now grep, cron and vi with the best of them. Well….maybe not the best of them, but enough so that I can bullshit my way through a UNIX interview.

I’m also nominating myself for every Windows job posted in our internal career path system. Have only gotten one nibble so far (in Morristown, NJ); but my boss knows that I’m looking and I’ll bolt at the first decent offer.

Football season also added to the stress level this year. For the second year, I was contracted by sports marketing to shoot every game my team played. Don’t get me wrong: I love shooting games. Not having a weekend off, however, gets old really fast. Particularly when you’re getting calls at 1:30 every morning because something’s broken at work. Additionally, my team performed dismally on the field for the first half of the season – this in spite of having what looked like one of the strongest teams in recent memory – and the games weren’t much fun to watch. And my pictures stunk for the most part. I’m chalking that up to old age (my eyes are going), but it still sort of blows to take 700 pictures every week and find that maybe 20 of them are useable.

Did I mention that I’m still with that horrid chruch orchestra and therefore was losing my Sundays as well as my Saturdays?

At any rate, it was a very long season for me and I was rather glad to see it end. It ended in a spectacular fashion, actually. The team rallied from a 1-4 start to finish at 6-5, knocking off two ranked teams in the last three weeks and – as a bonus – taking our biggest rival out of first place in the conference and ultimately out of the playoffs. And after something like 10 straight weeks, I finally got to sleep late last Saturday.

The car. A few weeks ago, it freaked out again. Short story: I dumped another $1,100 into it and it’s running great now. I, however, am broke. Between the car and my job, I’m afraid there will be no Christmas jaunt to Vermont this year. I still have the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day off; but there’s no way my boss is going to let me leave town for a week.

Thanksgiving was a rather enjoyable experience, however. Jenny and her parents and I drove up to Greenville to spend the day with Mom, Dad, Greg, Lisa, Larry, Marilyn, Dianne and an assortment of nieces and nephews. Lots of people, lots of food, lots of laughs. Hope everyone had as nice a time as I did.

And now? Well, between putting out fires at work, I spent yesterday doing about 20 loads of laundry, 8 loads of dishes, vacuuming and catching up on other stuff that I’ve need to do for the last three months. Today I’m expecting to do more of the same before heading to rehearsal tonight; and I assume that tomorrow will be the same.

So much for sleeping in.

TWD

Day 11 – 13/Jul/2007 17:35

The portion of my vacation that I spend at Ahmic Lake is always a great one, and this year has proven to be no exception. In fact, although my brother-in-law may disagree with me, this year at the lake has been one of the nicest that I can recall ever having spent here.

Lots of backstory to fill in here.

The folks who were supposed to show up on Sunday didn’t. As of today, nobody knows where most of them are (a family of 4 has disappeared from the face of the earth).

Cy and I played some tennis Sunday afternoon (I whooped her, thanks very much) while “T” pretty much moped around and slept. The day was fairly cool but sunny. The forecast called for rain. Cy made a fairly spectacular pork roast for dinner, after which we were joined by “T”‘s sister Ellen and her husband, Whit. They just finished building a house and boathouse on the parcel of land next to Camp Ulvik, and seem like nice folks. The five of us played “Oh Hell” (a great card game) until 11:30 or so before retiring to our cabins.

The weather fireworks began sometime after 2:00 Monday morning. For probably two hours, the lake was hit with a monster storm which featured driving rain, nonstop lightning and extremely strong winds (Ellen and Whit, sleeping in their boathouse, were apparently terrified). I loved it. The lake sounded like an ocean crashing against my dock.

At some point during the storm, we lost power (known as “Hydro” hear in the land of the Ojibwe). It would not be restored until 5:00 Tuesday afternoon.

Since Jamie had still not arrived (he’d attended a rock concert in Ottawa on Sunday night), Cy and “T” and I decided to drive to Parry Sound (which still had hydro) on Monday. We had a nice lunch by the harbor and puttered around in book stores and other shops for a few hours, then came back to camp to take a nap.

During nap time, Jamie arrived and the three Talls played tennis while I slept, swam, and walked in the woods.

I cooked some rice/sausage/leftover stuff on the propane stove in the farmhouse on Monday night and we all ate and later played cards by the light of my lantern.

Tuesday morning looked like more rain was on the way, but it never developed. Most of the day was spent reading, although the four of us did get some tennis in in the afternoon. After power was finally restored, Cy made another monster dish with leftovers and the evening was completed with a rousing game of “Oh Hell.”

On Wednesday, I decided to head towards North Bay for souvenirs and gifts. On the way there, I took a detour to the dump to get rid of some garbage. I ended up spending a couple of hours taking pictures of lots of bears. They’re pretty populous and bold at the dump this year.

We got some more tennis in in the afternoon, Jamie grilled some steaks for dinner and the evening’s entertainment was doubles cribbage (Cy and I destroyed the Tall men).

Yesterday was basically a dock day. It was sunny but brisk for much of the day. I did get a fairly long walk in and took a bunch of pictures.

We invited Ellen and Whit and a couple from Indian Point (Dexter and Carol Coolidge) over for dinner last night and I opted to make my (in my mind) world famous Shepherds Pie. It seemed to go over fairly well and Ellen chipped in with some fresh brownies which we topped with ice cream and devoured before moving on to a game of Mexican Train (dominoes).

This morning, everyone rose fairly early and Jamie, “T” and I set off for Parry Sound to take a cruise among the 30,000 islands and have lunch at Henry’s renowned restaurant on Frying Pan Island. The cruise was basically chartered by a decent number of Ahmic cottagers, Ellen and Whit among them.

We got back to camp at around 5:00 this afternoon. I’d like to take a nap now, but I’m leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to miss anything. So, as I’ve typed this, I’ve had one eye on the lake.

And I think I’ll go jump in it.

TWD

(Note: This entry – and any others in the same vein which follow – are taken verbatim from the journal I keep while on vacation. Please excuse spelling and grammatical errors as well as repetition, sappiness or other examples of idiocy. Such things are probably the result of my having been DWT – “Drunk While Typing”)

Day 1 – 30/Jun/2007 16:18
So here I am in wonderful southwestern Ohio (just outside of Oxford, to be exact) at Hueston Woods State Park. I arrived here just about two hours ago and have busied myself since then with setting up camp. I must admit that the site I got is great. It’s large, fairly private, and far enough off of the main road so that very little traffic (vehicular or pedestrian) is around to bother me.

Having said all that, it’s sort of amazing that I’m surrounded by probably 20 other people in 6 or 7 campsites.

Setting up was a rather sweat-producing experience. It is a beautiful day – the sun is out and it’s probably about 78 degrees – but it rained recently, and the air is still pretty saturated. I brought my very large tarp (something like 300 square feet) with me and it was a struggle to get it strung up. Once I managed to accomplish that, I dragged the picnic table about 40 feet to get it underneath the tarp (told you it was a big campsite), got all the electric stuff hooked up, set up my tent, got the car parked close enough to the table so that I can use my camp kitchen, and moved the firepit far enough away from the car so that I don’t blow it up if I start a fire tonight.

This all took about 90 minutes, and when I was finished, I was very much ready for a beer – an absolute no-no in Hueston Woods State Park. No problem, right? I just pour the beer into a cup and throw the can in a trashbag and everything’s cool.

Only I couldn’t find my trashbags. It made me slightly insane, because I knew I bought a box of bags specifically for this trip and I couldn’t imagine that I’d left them at home. I even knew where I’d have logically put them in my kitchen – but they weren’t there. So I basically tore my car apart for 15 minutes before determining that, yes indeed, I’m a moron.

So I went to the camp store (needed some firewood anyway).

They didn’t have trashbags.

At this point, I’m getting a tad pissed. How on earth could I forget something as necessary as trashbags? And just how the hell am I supposed to discreetly drink my beer? Aha! A koozee! So I go into my trusty kitchen, pull out a koozee, pop the beer….ahhhhh….

Time to start getting dinner ready, right? Right. So I get out the oven and a pan and prepare to boil some red beans (for chili). At this point, my eye falls on the macaroni and cheese in the purple box right in the middle of my kitchen.

Only it’s not mac & cheese. It’s the damned trashbags.

I’m prepared even if I don’t know it.

Day 3 – 2/Jul/2007 14:06
Guess it’s time to get caught up on what I’ve been doing since Saturday afternoon.

I spent the rest of that day basically doing nothing. Read for a few hours, took a nap, had some crackers, ate my chili, etc. For the evening’s entertainment, I watched “The Hitchhicker’s Guide to the Galaxy” and fought with my external hard drive/card reader, which for some reason had stopped displaying its contents on the LCD screen and was very picky about giving up the data that is stored on it. I ended up letting it charge for about three hours and, while the LCD still isn’t working, I can now at least read the thing when it’s attached to my laptop.

I woke up fairly early yesterday because I was freezing to death. It gets down into the mid/low 40’s at night here. I was not expecting that and only brought along a couple of sheets and the throw that’s always in my car for sleeping. Having woken myself up, I proceeded to go back to sleep until 10 am or so, then got up and put on some sweatpants.

For the rest of the day, I did absolutely nothing other than cooking a steak, listening to the radio and reading.

Last night I watched “Gettysburg” for about the 50th time and realized that it was July 1st – 144 years to the day after the battle started. The terrain that I’m camped in is actually pretty similar to the battlefield, so it was cool to see my computer screen with images of Little Round Top set against a backdrop of the same trees and hills (only about 400 miles west) that those guys were fighting on. As usual, the film had the effect of kicking me in the gut and making me question “The Killer Angels” that we are. Went to bed pretty late.

I was awakened at about 4:00 this morning by the cold and the sound of shredding plastic three feet from my head. I’d left my bread on the picnic table (normally, I pack it in the kitchen) and a neighborhood racoon was missing no opportunity. I didn’t want to yell and wake up everyone in the campground, and I didn’t have my camera with me; so I just watched as he sampled a piece of bread before taking the whole bag and leaving.

When I got up at around 6:00 (again because of the cold), I took a walk and found the remnants of my bread about 50 feet up the hill that overlooks my site. After a few cups of coffee and some reading, I headed for the nearest decent-sized town (Eaton, OH) to replace the bread and get my annual extra blanket.

I think I currently own about 8 blankets that I’ve purchased because I went camping expecting to be warm enough but wasn’t.

I’ve never really been anywhere in Ohio off of the interstate and I discovered that it’s actually a very pretty state. No, there are no mountains; but it’s not as flat as you might think, either. It is the definition of “rolling hills,” actually. As I mentioned, my campsite is in a little valley between two very tall (and steep) hills; and the drive to Eaton is rather nerve-wracking because you’ll be tooling down the road at about 60 (speed limit is 55) and you’ll start coming up to the crest of one of these hills and realize that you have no idea what’s on the other side of it. You CAN’T see for miles.

Making things even more interesting is the fact that, apparently, the roads were constructed to go around cornfields (which are plentiful – along with fields of soybean and peas). So there are no graceful sweeping turns on the roads. There are 90-degree turns, and these are often thrown together at the corner of a field….so you’ll crest a hill and see that you have about 100 yards to slow down enough to make a right-angle turn to the left, followed immediately by a right-angle turn to the right, followed by another hill.

I bet it’d be great fun on a snowmobile.

Day 4 – 3/Jul/2007 13:07
Well it’s only 1:00 in the afternoon, but it’s been a productive day so far. First, to wrap up yesterday:

After returning from Eaton, I took a walk to the “fossil hunting” area of Hueston Woods State Park. Apparently, this section of Ohio was an inland sea a few million years ago (that may be disputed later in my vacation, when I tour the “Creation Museum” in KY. For now, I’m sticking with the pagan theory); and there is a stream about a mile from where I’m camped that is littered with fossil-covered rocks. I spent a couple of hours looking for a really nice one (didn’t find any) and taking pictures of the stream and surrounding country, then came back to camp and ate a couple of cheese sandwiches while reading and trying to get close-ups of various birds – all of which had an uncanny knack for staying just out of the spot that I’d focused on (camera on a tripod).

Last night’s movies (watched while drinking wine from a box – I have loads of camping etiquette) were “Raiders of the Lost Ark” and the first half of “We Are Marshall.” I’ll watch the second half later today.

My raccoon buddy visited me again last night. I heard him huffing and chirping his way down the hill to my campsite at around midnight, but by the time I rousted myself and unzipped the tent, he’d figured out that something wasn’t quite right and scurried off. Apparently he revisited the camp later, however, as I awoke this morning to find a hole gnawed through my trashbag and an empty tuna can next to it.

So, while making coffee, sausage and scrambled eggs (EggBeaters, y’all. I am health-conscious 24×7), I discarded the trash bag in a dumpster nearby and decided that I’ll try to setup my video camera on a tripod tonight (it has pretty good night vision) and operate it remotely from inside the tent.

I mentioned making coffee. Here’s the thing: I really like percolated coffee when I’m camping, but I hate the fact that I always end up with coffee grounds in the bottom of my cup. You take that last really big swallow and end up convulsively spitting it out all over the front of your shirt because it feels like you’ve just attempted to drink a beach. Fortunately for percolated camp coffee lovers everywhere, I’ve hit upon the solution: line the percolator basket with Kleenex! For best results, fold the remaining tissue over the top of the coffee, put the little metal percolator basket cover over that, and voila! Good coffee with very few grounds in the pot.

I would advise against using the type of Kleenex which is impregnated with skin cream (for the tender-nosed booger blower), but whatever floats your boat.

My neighbors left this morning and gave me a stack of wood that they’d been using. I think they were trying to calm down their 5 little girls before the trip, so they had the kids carry over all the wood and stack it for me while their dad and I talked. He and his wife are both morbidly obese (I’m talking 400+ pounds here), but seem like genuinely nice folks. I didn’t ask, but I suspect that most if not all of the kids are adopted or foster children; and the husband works as a truck driver for Goodwill.

The wife gave me directions to Eaton yesterday and invited me over for S’mores last night (I declined, being involved in my movie and mildly drunk on boxed wine); and the husband, who is probably a few years younger than I, chatted happily this morning about everything from cameras to computers to OTR trucking to Emerald Ash Borers (the current threat to Ash trees in 31 Ohio counties, including the one that I’m in) to insurance companies. His is Aflac, as I learned when he told me how great they were when he had a heart attack three years ago.

Given his weight, the story of the heart attack didn’t surprise me. I opted not to mention this.
After he and the kids went back to packing their stuff up, I decided to wash my dishes. That being the case, I proceeded to dump scalding hot water into my dishpan, in the process dropping the cover off the top of the kettle. This development engulfed my left hand in steam and burned the living crap out of two of my fingers. I put cream on them and bandaged one. Call me a boy scout or something.

Since then, I’ve been reading, listening to the local NPR station (run out of the University of Miami (Ohio)), and waiting for one of those stupid birds to pose in the right spot for my camera. The campground, which was nearly empty after my neighbors left, is beginning to fill up again. I suspect that it will get busy tonight and tomorrow, but – as I mentioned somewhere earlier – my site is very large and secluded. If I don’t go to the Grand Canyon next year, there’s a good possibility that I’ll stay here again.

Day 5 – 4/Jul/2007 20:54
I ended up taking a very long nap yesterday afternoon, waking up at dusk. Made some tuna casserole for dinner and watched the first half of “Hope Floats” while eating half of it and wathing it get dark. The campground did gain a few new arrivals but didn’t get (and still isn’t) nearly as crowded as I thought it would get.

When it got pretty dark, I built a fire and sat by it with my video camera for a while, waiting for Rocky Raccoon to make his appearance. He eventually did, but I couldn’t get the stupid “MagicVision” (or whatever it’s called) feature working properly on the camera. I may have gotten a few shots of him – probably not – and I ended up scaring him away, although he did let me get to within about 4 feet of him. I then got my big flashlight out of the tent and made plans to wait him out. Sometime after midnight I gave up and went to bed.

Got up around 5:45 this morning, put on a pot of coffee and started reading. And that’s pretty much what I’ve done all day.

This afternoon, it looked like it was going to rain, so I spent about half an hour rehanging my tarp to cover more ground (it has just now started to rain, some 8 hours after I prepared for it). I also ate the rest of my casserole and took a short nap.

After then nap (which ended around 7:30), I got up and made a couple of hamburgers, which I ate while watching the rest of “Hope Floats” (just finished).

Obviously, I am now typing this, but I’ve pretty much covered the day. I think I’ll now just sit at my table and watch the rain and feel the wind. Happy Independence Day!

Day 8 – 7/Jul/2007 12:09
I guess I have a bit of catching up to do, although not much of import happened between Wednesday night and today.

On Thursday, I spent most of the day reading and listening to the radio, which spent most of its time saying that I was due to get severe thunderstorms and hail all day. This did not happen, although one relatively strong storm did blow through late in the afternoon. By that time, I’d gotten in touch with Cy and made plans to leave Ohio on Friday (rather than Saturday) and head to Canada.

Getting in touch with her, by the way, was not all that easy. In order to get any type of cell signal, I had to climb the hill (aka “Mt. McKinley) next to my campsite, stand on one leg and hold the phone against my right ear using my left hand while making a pose reminiscent of John Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever.”

Having done that, I took down my camp in stages (before and after the rain and between chapters and glasses of wine). By about 8:00 or 9:00 Thursday night, I had everything packed in the car. I spent the next couple of hours watching the second half of “We Are Marshall” and then packed MYSELF into my car, where I slept (quite comfortably) until about 6:00 yesterday morning.

I violated yet ANOTHER rule of the Hueston Woods State Park at that point by (gasp!) taking a shower in the “A” section of the campground. Having camped in the “B” section, I was not supposed to use any of the “A” facilities – which included running water and showers. I was not, however, about to drive 10 hours to Canada after having not bathed in 7 days.

The drive to Ahmic Lake was rather uneventful, although I did have a fairly extended and pleasant conversation with the Canadian customs guy who was quite impressed with my camp kitchen and a little jealous that I’d been camping for a week and still had 10 days to go for my vacation. He seemed like a really nice kid (this was by far the most “conversing” I’ve ever done with a customs agent). About an hour later, I got a tad worried when I drove up to a section of the 401 that was closed and was forced to take an (unmarked) detour for about 20 miles.

Thank God for GPS.

The rest of the trip was boring. Actually, it was somewhat annoying between Toronto and Barrie. I’d forgottent that “cottagers” would be taking the same route as I on a Friday afternoon. The majority of them split off (on route 11) at Barrie, however, and from there to Parry Sound was quite pleasant. Just outside of Parry Sound, I noticed that I was getting low on gasoline and called “T” to make sure that there was gas at Camp Ulvik. Being assured that there was, I opted not to tank up.

Almost a mistake. While coming through Dunchurch, my fuel light came on, indicating that I had somewhere between 15 and 20 miles left before I’d be empty. For those of you not in “the know,” Dunchurch is about 12-15 miles from Magnetawan and the camp is on the far side of that wonderful little hamlet. I told Cy and “T” last night, “If you’ve got a martini glass and 3 olives, I’ll drink the gas left in my tank.”

I’m living in “The Honeymoon Cottage” for the next week, as I’ve done on two other occassions. This is a delightful little house with its own dock (and a screen porch) located just down the hill from the main cabin. It is very comfortable (I didn’t get out of bed until about 9:30 today) and has an wonderfully isolated feeling.

After breakfast, Cy and I put our heads together and got a wireless router working in the main cabin (DSL was installed last year, and I immediately saw an opportunity to network the camp and “give back” a little; so I got the router for them this year). After quite a bit of trial and error (the error being that I’m an idiot and had wired the router to Cy’s laptop instead of to the DSL modem), we were pleased to discover that not only did the setup work, but also that it reached all the way to the cottage in which I’m currently sitting and composing this.

Very sweet.

Cy and “T” have since gone to the farmers’ market “downtown” (Magnetawan has a population of about 300 full-time residents) and I’m getting ready to go fall in the lake, although it rained this morning and is still somewhat dreary looking.

Jamie Tall and 4 or 5 other people are scheduled to show up at the camp tomorrow, which should make for a pleasant, if somewhat quiet, week.

-TWD

Yes, indeedy.

It’s Memorial Day Weekend (capitalized because it’s an event – not just a weekend), and I’m doing what? Making lunch, doing laundry, washing dishes, and watching NFL Europa. I’m just a regular 21st-century bon vivant, huh?

I’d planned on going camping with some buddies this weekend. Was going to take yesterday off, head to the mountains, and get some much-needed nothingness for a few days. In preparation for this, I went out last Tuesday night to play video bowling with a couple of other friends. Okay, so it wasn’t actually a preparatory step, but that’s what I did. We invented a really cool wagering system for the game. Kind of a “skins game” for video bowling. I won $7. Thanks for asking.

When I left the bar, my “check engine” light came on. Not a big deal. It happens occassionally. This time, however, the engine didn’t want to run at over 2500 RPM. Started bucking and jerking and yada yada yada. So I drove the 6 miles home mainly with creative shifting: get that puppy in 5th gear as fast as possible and you never get up to 2500 RPM. Figured I’d take it to the shop on Wednesday morning and get the fuel filter changed or the plugs checked or something mundane like that.

On Wednesday morning, however, I was unable to start the car.

Crap.

So I called AAA and got a tow to my mechanic, who informed me that he’s no longer my mechanic – he only does brakes, tires, oil changes, etc. No tune-ups. No ability to read the check engine code. Nothing.

The AAA guy, who was an extrememly personable and helpful guy, towed me to a Chrysler dealership; where I was informed that, due to Memorial Day Weekend stuff, they wouldn’t be able to diagnose the problem before Thursday.

I borrowed Gramma’s old car from Herb and Andy.

On Thursday, I got a call from the dealership. Timing belt was shredded. Water pump was frozen. Possible valve damage, but they wouldn’t be able to check until after replacing the timing belt and water pump. For around $1,500. If there was valve damage (a 50/50 chance)? $3,000.

Double crap.

To make a very long story short, I got the car back last night. There was no valve damage, thankfully; but I’m out about $1,200 (the estimate was high) and camping is out for the weekend.

I did, however, reserve a campsite at Hueston Woods State Park in College Corner, Ohio, for the first week of July. It looks like a lovely and secluded area and I’m really looking forward to zoning there for a week before heading up to Lake Ahmic on July 7th. It was also quite a bit cheaper than my other two choices – Blueberry Pond in Maine (where I’ve stayed twice before) and a provincial park in the far north of Ontario (a couple hours north of North Bay), the name of which I cannot recall. Maybe I’ll try that next year, unless Hueston Woods is a great place.

For the rest of this weekend, I’m just going to putter around the house. Mow the lawns, chip up a tree that fell quite some time ago, maybe grill some dogs on the deck.

Hope everybody has a safe and happy weekend. I’ll go eat my lunch now.

TWD

Yes!

Another month of my life is gone, and one month closer to being out of a job.

We’ll start there, I guess. Ed Whitacre (CEO of AT&T) announced last week that he’ll be retiring next month. Along with Duane Ackerman (CEO of BellSouth). I think it’s wonderful that these two wizened gentlemen will both be able to hit the links and drink umbrella drinks on their verandas knowing that they were able to work together to forge a union between two of the largest companies on earth and screw 10K to 15K little people out of jobs. Good for them.

I’m not bitter.

Our affiliate’s president has been given his marching orders for the rest of the year. #1: Cut headcount by “double digits.” I don’t know why this has to be classified information. That just means it’s somewhere between 10 and 99, right? #2: Don’t spend any money.

Let’s go into a bit of detail here. One of the president’s direct reports is my boss’ boss. Due to a convoluted system of bureaucracy, she found herself in a position of working for two different bosses a few weeks ago – our president and a VP of a delivery (systems and apps – not packages) affiliate. She decided that this was too much for her and asked to choose just one boss. Logical enough, right? Certainly.

Amazingly, she decided that she wanted to work for our president – meaning that everyone under her also went to that side of things. When I was told this at a lunch by my boss, I asked, “Wouldn’t it be better for US if we went with delivery? Everyone knows that our affiliate won’t exist in a year, but delivery WILL.”

I got a straight answer from my boss. “Yes.”

Last week, when we were told about the headcount reductions, etc., my first response to my boss was, “So why don’t we get realigned with delivery and just “contract” back to BEI until it goes away – at which point, we’ll hopefully still have jobs somewhere else.” It took a few minutes for this to sink in, but once my boss got the idea, she took it to HER boss – who was somehow taken aback by it and asked, “Why would they want to do that? Where’s the loyalty?”

Loyalty? Are you JOKING?

My two directs are both contractors and both have expressed a desire to find work elsewhere. And my boss’ boss can’t understand why.

Am I really that dense? Am I missing something here?

On a related note, in spite of the headcount issue, we still have to keep a product going out the door for the next 6 or 7 months – meaning that more and more work is going to get dumped on a very small handful of people – and those people will probably NOT be allowed to transfer to another division of AT&T.

Let me rephrase that so everybody gets the picture here. We currently have two UNIX administrators and one Windows administrator. Take a guess at which three people are not going to be fired until the business is dead – and which three people are not going to be allowed to find work (within AT&T) elsewhere.

Loyalty? Are you freaking kidding me??

And don’t think that I’m over-reacting. I know of one programmer in my company who was ALREADY denied the right to leave after he found a great job in another affiliate.

I have no loyalty to this company. I haven’t for the last 5 years. What I have no is closer to emnity.

Enough ranting. I think I’ve gotten most of it out.

The GBB received the tapes with the judges’ comments from NABBA last week. Overall, they were all very complimentary; pointing out obvious mistakes but throwing in a large number of very positive comments. One in particular, made by Sheona White (without question the best tenor horn player in the world), made my day:

“Really some stunning tuba sound coming from this band.”

It is very immodest to say so, but we (the tuba section) know that we’re good. It’s just really nice to hear it from a person of Sheona’s stature.

I’ve got a rehearsal with the GBB tonight (the last before our concert next week), a rehearsal with a quartet tomorrow night, and a performance at the Atlanta Symphony Showhouse (with the quartet) on Thursday. Also had a rehearsal with the church “orchestra” this past Sunday (still an awful experience), so my chops are getting a workout this week. In the quartet, by the way, I’ll be playing euphonium. THAT will be an adventure. I haven’t played a Bb horn reading bass clef (other than bone) in about 6 years.

I think we’ve got two more gigs at the ASO Showhouse in the next few weeks, but I’ll be playing tuba on the rest of them.

Last Saturday, I finally learned how to read music on my electric bass. I’ve had the thing for about 5 years, but have always amused myself by just doodling on it and jamming with various CDs by ear. Last Easter, I played a really cool cantata at the church and I asked the librarian to pleeeeaaasssse give me copies of the percussion parts so that I could try to play the bass along with the practice recording (we get those from the church. I don’t actually use them to practice – I just listen to them).

So I got the scores last weekend and immediately took out the bass and spent a few hours actually playing. I know that most of you will not understand this, but it was SO DAMNED EXCITING to learn how to read music. Now, instead of thinking, “Play this note here on the 1st fret of the second string and it’ll sound neato,” I get to think, “Play a Bb – that’s what’s written.”

Just way cool to me. Cool enough, in fact, that I actually DID play the thing until my fingers were in a great deal of pain. And I wasn’t bad!

Keith and Dennis are now both moved in, and we’ve redecorated my piano room. It is now a music/playstation/futon room – complete with a lava lamp. Actually a pretty cool room, and it’s nice to be using all that space that was heretofore pretty empty.

Wow. I’ve typed a lot here. I guess I should go take a shower and get to work.

Loyalty and all that.

TWD

Well, I made it back safely from Louisville, where the Georgia Brass Band was awarded….

drumroll….

…second place.

Yeah. The Central Ohio Brass Band nipped us by 3 points out of 300 and got away with the gold. I have to admit that I was – and am – a tad disappointed that we didn’t win; but the COBB was a good band. I just thought we were better.

The two bands picked by 4BarsRest.com to finish ahead of us ended up in 5th and last, respectively. So much for the experts.

The night before the contest last Saturday, we played a concert at the Christ Church cathedral in Louisville, one of the oldest churches in Kentucky. Interestingly, we played the concert on the night before the anniversary of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. You all know who he was, right? It’s important that you do, because the interesting part is that Jefferson Davis was married in the Christ Church Cathredral in Louisville. I’m assuming that you know who he was, too. Oh – it was also Friday the thirteenth. Neato, huh?

Anyway, the concert went pretty well. Our sound was tremendous, and I hope we can play there again next year (assuming we go to NABBA again).

After the Gala Concert on Saturday (where it was announced that we were being awarded … drumroll … second place), most of the GBB went across the street to a little brewpub named the Bluegrass Brewing Company. In short order, about 4 other bands followed us there, including the Central Ohio Brass Band (you may recall that they got first by three freaking points . . . I suppose I might want to be a little more circumspect with my opinion – who knows if COBB has spies online). We all had a good time being brass bandsmen (i.e., drinking lots of microbrew beer). After a short while, a tubist friend of mine discovered that the BBC sold “growlers” – half-gallon jugs of their brews which could be transported back to our hotel.

End of BBC party. Beginning of hotel party. I believe I got to my own room somewhere around 3:00 the next morning.

Remember I told you in an earlier post that I had a gig in Atlanta on Sunday afternoon? I made it. Just barely. Fortunately, it was a pretty informal gig. My quintet played at the house of one of our trumpeters (he had a small party going on), and everyone was so amazed that there was a quintet in the neighborhood that they didn’t really care if we sounded good or not.

In other news, tomorrow is the day that Keith and Dennis move in. We’ve been getting together once or twice a week since they decided to make the move, and by and large we’re having a good time together. The housing situation should be fine.

For the last year or so, I’ve been promising the Northbrook UMC (Alpharetta, GA) that I’d play tuba in their orchestra. I promised this because 1}I like to play, and 2}I’ve been guaranteed two gigs a year (Christmas and Easter) at Northbrook since about 1991, so I figure I owe the music minister something. To his credit, his musicians and singers have improved by leaps and bounds since the early 90’s. One thing that worried me is that, if I started playing regularly with the orchestra, I wouldn’t get paid for Christmas and Easter. Last Christmas, I was assured by the church secretary/pianist/organist/flutist that I would indeed keep getting those two gigs. So I agreed to start playing with them after NABBA.

This last Sunday, I went to my first rehearsal.

Remember that sentence up there that said, “his musicians have improved…?” That apparently doesn’t apply to the regular orchestra. Oh. My. God. What have I gotten myself into? On the one hand, it’s nice to have people going gaga for your playing because they’ve never had a bass voice before. On the other hand….Oh. My. God.

But I did promise.

Last Saturday I got to hang out with some of the best musicians in the world, by the way. Really. One of the tenor horn players in the GBB had a party at his house, which I decided to go to. What he didn’t tell anyone was that he’d invited basically the entire Atlanta Symphony Orchestra to join us after they finished playing a concert – and a good number of them did. And I thought brass people could put away the beer in Louisville. The symphony people descended on the lone keg like it was an oasis. I’ve never seen 18 gallons of beer disappear so fast.

As an aside, I’ve rebuilt the GBB website. You can access it at http://GeorgiaBrassBand.com/2007. I’ve been meaning to update the site for the last 7 years, so it’s nice finally to have done so.

Got my lawn mowed last weekend, and also put in the first of two gardens that I’ll have this year. Planted cucumbers and carrots. Next weekend, I’ll try to get tomatoes and other stuff put in.

I also trimmed the holly around my deck….and sliced right through my (television) cable while doing so. Not to worry. I work for a television company. I got two of the technicians to give me a private lesson in splicing coaxial cable yesterday and had my televisions working again by about 6:30 last night.

As I’m sure I’ve bored everyone enough for one day – and as I’ve got to get to a rehearsal (we have a concert on May 8…but if you’ve already looked at the GBB site then you know that) – I guess I’ll wrap it up here.

Turtle Cakes and Lemonade? That’s what one of my helpdesk guys said to me today. “I’d love to talk, but I need to go make some Turtle Cakes and Lemonade.”

I laughed.

TWD

I always wanted to use the word “nigh,” but the opportunity just never presented itself until now.

Oh, sure. I could have said things like, “My birthday is nigh” or, “I’ve been really sick of my job for nigh onto eight years,” but let’s get real. Those things just aren’t worthy of nighness. NABBA, however, is nigh. I’m talking NIGH, babe.

Did you ever notice that after you use a word about twelve times in a very short time, it begins to look completely strange. I’m tempted to grab a dictionary now to confirm that “nigh” is a word.

Nigh nigh nigh. Nigh. Nigh.

I can’t stop typing that.

Etch-a-Sketch time for the old gray matter.

So anyway, the GBB and I had our last rehearsal last night and fortunately spent very little time on the contest pieces (for those of you in the cheap seats, those’d be The King of Elfland’s Daughter and Resurgam). We did do a late run-through, but the majority of the rehearsal was spent on a number of other pieces that we’ll be playing in concert this Friday night at a church in Louisville, KY.

Saturday afternoon, we’ll drive about 20 minutes into Indiana to compete in the North American championships at Indiana University of the South in (I think) Albany, IN. 4BarsRest, a website that tracks this sort of thing, has predicted that we’ll finish third behind the New England Brass Band and the Triangle Brass Band (Raleigh, NC). New England won the thing last year. I’m not sure why Triangle is picked to finish ahead of us – they’re a good band, but I’ve never been overly-impressed with them.

I’m not sure what the Vegas odds are.

The winners will be announced at a gala event on Saturday night, after which I’ll probably hit the road (or not), as I’ve got a gig on Sunday night with my quintet in Atlanta.

I learned last weekend that the incredible rehearsal schedule since December has actually been quite beneficial for me. I played a couple of Easter gigs on my CC tuba – which I hadn’t touched since about January – and I must say that I kicked butt. Not back to college form, but I’m definitely better than I was when we started ramping up for the competition last December.

In other news, Maria is now firmly entrenched at Fort Bragg (I’m assuming that she’s not planning any sort of putsch against the government) and I have indeed lined up two guys to replace her as my roommates. Dennis Hamilton and Keith Ackerman have been in my circle of associates since the early 90’s and they’re scheduled to move in on April 25th. While “working” from home today, I managed to shampoo the carpets and clean out both guestrooms so that everything’s ready for them.

I also cut a hole in the bottom of my bedroom door so that I can close the door and the cats can still go in and out. They drove me crazy when Maria was here. Everytime I closed my door, the cats went crazy either trying to get in or trying to get out. So I ended up propping the door open with a sneaker while holding it shut with a box of towels. It was annoying.

A week or two ago, I bought a new refrigerator. My old one came with the house (8 years ago), and never worked right; so when I got my bonus I splurged and bought a great big brand new one. I must divulge that I got it for $600 off because it had a paint scratch. The horror.

The coolest part about it is that it’s got a beer rack built into it. I mean a soda rack.

Get it? I said “the coolest part” in reference to a refrigerator. Ha!

At this point, I have nothing more to say. This is what we call, “A boring life – nigh to pathetic.”

TWD

See when I’m publishing this? The time? See that?

Yeah. I’m at work on a Sunday morning. And not “Sunday morning” as in “just after church let out” or like “after getting out of bed but before hitting the Rusty Nail for brunch and a Bloody Mary.” Sunday morning like 1:00 AM Sunday morning. And I’ll be here until at least 3:00 AM.

Why? Because some hot-shot politico decided that we simply MUST have Daylight Saving Time for an extra month every year. He didn’t take into consideration that every damned computer on the face of the earth had the old DST dates pretty much etched in stone. Apparently the Y2K thing is a distant memory to him (and for those of you wondering – YEAH, there were some problems with systems at that point. Not the apocalypse, but some things did indeed fail), or he doesn’t recall that every systems admin and power user on the planet had to spend all night on 12/31/99 running tests. And that generally nobody showed up to work on 1/2/00 because they were all too freaking tired.

Yup. Apparently this genious who decided we had to extend DST forgot all about that.

So I’ve spent the last month patching all of my servers and now I get to sit here until 3:00 in the morning to make sure that they all roll forward an hour when they’re supposed to. And then a whole bunch of users can login between 3 and 4 and make sure that their applications work. And THEN (assuming that those applications do indeed work), I get to go home and try to get a few hours of sleep because, unlike that brilliant senator or representative or president or whoever the hell it was that just couldn’t deal with not screwing around with the natural order of things, I actually have things to do on Sundays in March. Like till the garden, vaccuum the rug, wash my car, do some laundry, and get that damned Bloody Mary.

And, come November, I’ll get to do the whole thing all over again.

Here’s a thought: Why not just roll everyone back to Standard Time forever and tell people to change the times that they work? So instead of working (for example) from 8 to 5 everyday, we’ll all work from 7 to 4. Or 9 to 6. Or however the hell it’s supposed to work. How about sunup to sundown? Would that work for you, Senator Cantstayoutofmylife?

So Maria sold her motorcycle today. For those of you not keeping up, Maria is my roommate and she’s deploying to Iraq later this month. She started going into a funk about selling the bike on Thursday night (apparently, she’s got an emotional attachment to it) and I’ve spent the last few days rationalizing to her that:

1. She’s getting a nice chunk of change for the thing.
2. It’s not like she was going to be riding it for at least the next 18 months.
3. She already had plans to buy a new Harley while she was overseas.
4. It’s taking up too much space in my garage as it is.
5. She’s a soldier and needs to stop acting like some whacked-out female.

She handled the transaction fine, thankfully, and immediately started surfing around and designing the Harley of her future. I’m not sure exactly what the deal is, but apparently she can buy the thing while she’s deployed and Harley-Davidson will give her a huge discount because she’s overseas and she doesn’t have to pay tax on it or something. I don’t know. All I know is that she can buy it cheaper than she could if she stayed in the states.

She’s heading out on Monday, by the way. By “heading out,” I mean “She’s leaving.” She’ll drive to her house in Pennsylvania for a few days, then either fly or drive to Texas after that, then fly back to Atlanta for a week – sans vehicle. Since I’m certainly not going to chauffer her around for the week she’s back here, she’s planning on staying with a girlfriend when she gets back. After a week or so here, she’ll head to Fort Bragg, then to Jordan, then back to Bragg, then to Kuwait and finally to Iraq. Fun stuff.

At any rate, she’s out of my house – and she doesn’t read this blog, but I’ve told her (and therefore don’t feel guilty about retelling you all) that it was a real pleasure having her stay with me for the last 8 months. I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.

That being the case, I’m not sure that I want to tempt fate twice; but there’s a guy (or maybe two) coming over to “check out the house” tomorrow afternoon with an eye towards moving in in April. I’ve known both of these guys for years and, if they decide to move in, we’ll probably get along fine (and I’ll be raising my rent); but I haven’t completely decided if I want to continue renting. Life is much less complicated when it’s lived on one’s own.

Of course, cash is nice too.

So they (or at least one of them) should be rolling into my driveway at around noon tomorrow. That’d be 8 hours after I can leave work (see how I’m tying this all back together? I’m a freaking literary genious) and about 4 hours before I have to leave for Rome, GA, for a brass band rehearsal. Homey’s gonna be a tired puppy come Monday morning, and there is a good possibility that I’ll take a half-day off of work (comp time, naturally) and try to actually get some sleep.

Stupid politicians.

In preparation for NABBA, the Georgia Brass Band hired Dr. Colin Holman to rehearse with us last Friday, Saturday and Sunday. By Sunday, all I could think about was the fact that I hadn’t played so much or with such intensity since the All-State rehearsals in high school. We went from 7:30 to 10:00 on Friday night, 9:30 to 12:30 Saturday morning and 12:00 to 3:00 Sunday afternoon. Then (just for good measure), I drove to Rome, GA, immediately after the Sunday rehearsal and rehearsed with the Roman Festival Brass from 6:00 to 9:00. Don’t know if I got any better, but I do know that I broke my face. It’s almost recovered now…but I’ve got a rehearsal from 7:00-9:30 tonight during which time I’ll probably break it again.

Dr. Holman is an amazing clinician though. I videotaped each of his rehearsals and the difference in the band’s tone between when we first started on Friday night and where we were 10 minutes after he took the baton is astounding. On Sunday afternoon, while we were playing the “Elfland’s Daughter” thing, I actually liked the piece. I’ve played for some really fine directors in my life, but this guy might be the best – or at least second best. Darryl One conducted a gig I was playing when he was the assistant conductor of the Atlanta Symphony (he’s since gone on to bigger and better things). He’s absolutely brilliant.

There’s an interesting 20 seconds or so near the end of the Friday night tape, which was filmed from behind me. During one section of resting that is particularly difficult to count, the tubist next to me and I were both bobbing our heads in order to avoid getting lost. We look amazingly like two of those little cymbal-crashing monkeys as seen from behind. But the two of us sounded damned good, if I say so myself.

Anyway, the band improved quite a bit over the weekend and hopefully we can keep it going for the next six weeks and make a splash at NABBA. It’ll give me something to put on the new website that I’m building.

I noticed going to and coming back from Rome on Sunday that my front brakes sounded terrible – I also was long overdue for an oil change and for some strange reason the tires on the left side of my car were inflated to about 4 pounds PSI less than the right-side ones. So I decided to at least take care of problems two and three yesterday at lunch. Figured I’d hop over the the mechanic and get the oil changed and the tires rotated (and, presumably, inflated correctly). In and out in an hour, right?

Almost. After a few minutes, the mechanic came out and said, “Tom, you really need some new front brakes.” Since I knew that already, I said, “I know.”

Then I asked him how long it would take him to fix them. “Not long at all.”

So, in spite of the fact that it was going to cost me $475 instead of $30, I told him to go ahead and take care of the brakes. Then he proceeded to take my wheels apart and called the parts place to have the proper parts driven to him.

The truck carrying my brakes got into a accident. 5 hours later, my car was ready for me.

You haven’t really lived or experienced hell until you’ve sat in the waiting room of Kauffman Tire for 5 hours. Your magazine selection is limited to tire advertisements, newspapers of undertermined age and maybe an Ebony magazine from last summer.

And one Cosmopolitan. I eyed it a few times, but didn’t want to be seen reading it. I mean, I’m a guy and all….but I was kind of curious about the “foreplay that will blow his mind” which was apparently featured somewhere between the covers.

Fortunately, I had my iPaq with me (which always has about 12 books loaded on it), and I spent a great deal of time reading one of them (a mob thriller called The Good Guys). Even so, the chairs left a lot to be desired. As did the television, which was tuned to CNN Headline News.

Interesting thing about CNN Headline News – they might be a 24-hour station, but the news only takes about 10 minutes….and then you get 4 commercials followed by the same 10 minutes of news being shouted at you again. I’d seen coverage of the bus crash in Atlanta about 13 times before I realized that I was alone in the waiting room.

Time for the Cosmopolitan, baby.

In reaching for it, I discovered the remote control for the television. Spent the next hour watching the History Channel.

After I finally got my car back (they knocked $50 off the price because I had to wait so long), I went back to my office, packed up my stuff, and left. Oddly, nobody seems to have noticed that I wasn’t there all afternoon.

It’s good to be needed.

TWD

It is currently 1:49 on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in Duluth.

I’m still in bed.

I got up at around 7:00 to feed the cats, then got back in bed. Haven’t moved since, except to throw a load of laundry in the washer…and to move it to the dryer a half-hour later. I’ve watched three and a half movies, surfed the web, scratched a cat’s head, and finalized plans to get my taxes done.

Don’t tell me I can’t work from home. I get more done before I get out of bed than the Army gets done before 9:00. Or something like that.

I have a rehearsal in Rome, GA, this afternoon. It’s about two hours away and I’m not all that gaga about the band (a very amateur brass band), but I told them I’d play a concert with them next month and I can use the extra practice. That became painfully obvious yesterday, when the Georgia Brass Band had one of our weekend rehearsals (ramping up to NABBA) and my chops were complete shot by the time we’d finished. I have one section in one of our championship pieces that calls for me to play a very high and very loud obligato. I think I cracked every other note the last time through it.

The GBB played a concert with the Georgia Youth Brass Band last week, which went pretty well. It was the first time we’d performed “The King of Elfland’s Daughter” (NABBA obligatory piece), and we didn’t have any serious train wrecks. I did get completely lost during an early solo part and had to stop playing and look at the director with “I’m clueless” eyes – but the piece is so ungodly twentieth-century that nobody in the audience would have known just how badly I choked. The judges on April 14th will be a different story, but I should be a tad more comfortable with the part by then.

We found out the other day that we will play second in the Honors section – right behind the New England Brass Band, which won the section last year. The general wisdom in brass band circles is that the GBB and the NEBB are the top two bands in the section, so it sounds like the competition might be decided very early in the day. Unfortunately, we won’t get to see them play because we’ll be preparing to go on next, and they won’t get to see us play because they’ll be whisked off for photographs, interviews, etc.

If you’ve never been to a brass band competition (and I’m betting you haven’t), it’s an interesting albeit extremely tedious thing to watch. Every band in each section must play one mandatory contest piece, which is usually quite difficult – to play and to listen to. They can do this piece at any time during their concert, which is limited to (I think) 23 minutes. The contest piece is also usually pretty lengthy, so a band’s performance will quite often consist of just two pieces. The OTHER piece is the one that’s fun to listen to and makes the whole competition bearable. I mean, how many times can you listen to a Charles Ives work before you go insane?

Things are still up in the air at work, and I’ve started looking for jobs online a bit more seriously, although I still have no idea what I want to do. I found out last week that an assistant manager at Quik Trip makes an average of close to $50K. I could do that. Don’t laugh….I could do that.

I’m actually in a “line up potential jobs” mode, but have no intention of taking another gig at this point unless it’s just absolutely amazing. BellSouth/AT&T pretty much has everyone over a barrel at this point. We can hang in there until the end and get a pretty nice severance package, or we can find something else and hope it works out. I’ll tell you right now – I’m not leaving without the package.

A tree fell over in my backyard sometime during the past couple of months. I have no idea when, but I suspect it was during one of those monster rain storms we had in January. Shows how much time I spend in the yard, huh? Anyway, I’ve been meaning to get out the chainsaw and hack it up for the last week or so, but just haven’t. Today would’ve been a good day to do it…but I’m still in bed as I’ve mentioned, and I’ve enjoined myself from starting a chainsaw in the house.

Cy called the other night and told me that she and “T” will be at Ahmic from the 7th to the 21st of July this year, and that Chris and Jamie will be taking up all the available space from the 14th to the 21st. So I’m thinking I’ll probably take the first two weeks of July off, which allows me to use the 4th, get some camping in somewhere, and then spend 5 or 6 days of the second week at the lake. Looking forward to it, but I haven’t decided where to camp. Maine is on top of the list once again. I haven’t been there in two or three years and I want a lobster.

Speaking of driving 8 billion miles, my car has been acting funky lately. It likes to stall when I push in the clutch. Probably need my injectors cleaned, but that’s expensive…and the mechanic that I’ve been using for the last twenty years recently closed the shop. I’m 2000 miles overdue for an oil change and I have no idea where to get it done. Maybe I’ll do it myself. Assuming I get out of bed. Which is where I am.

That’s about all. Hope everyone is warm and happy and looking forward to March 4th. That’s Vermont statehood day, you know.

TWD