than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one."
-- George Bernard Shaw --
Well, Hal, who edged out other cars in the running partially on the basis of superior engineering and reliability - Hal, who in the first four weeks revealed a pinched speaker wire in his door and a not-yet-fixed bug in his computer which randomly turns the "service engine now" light on, - Hal, who was rear ended in his sixth week, because another driver was too impressed with him - Hal, yeah, that Hal - has received his first recall.
It seems that for the past three years of Hal's model, the insulation near the seat belt thingy that grabs it in an accident (I forget what it's called) might catch fire if the thingy grabs in an accident. So I am to ignore the "service engine now" light, and, um, don't have an accident until I can take him in for repair.
Thirty years ago, my psychiatrist said I had feelings of omnipotence - that everything that went wrong was my fault. Well, notice that the stock market was heading back up UNTIL I decided to sell a load of stock to buy a house. Notice that the housing market was beginning to recover UNTIL I decided to put this house on the market. Notice that BMW used to have a good reputation UNTIL I bought one.
Maybe I had those feelings for a reason.
On the good side, Captain Vantastic called today. The minivan, Fred, is all checked out and ready to go. I am impressed. He'd been sitting in the driveway, dead to the world, for almost three years. He needed his brake lines replaced, one tire stem replaced, his A/C recharged, and an oil change and lube, and Vic says he's in great health now. His timing is more than perfect. The Captain checked out his electric door and wheelchair ramp, and they work fine. The only thing that doesn't work is that he doesn't kneel anymore, but that's ok, I never used the kneel (he'd kneel on the side with the ramp so that the ramp slope was lower) anyway. I never trusted it.
So, I'm ready to start moving! And I was prepared to spend more than $1,000 to get Fred back on the road, but it's coming out to just about $600. Incredible. Also, two people have already called wanting to buy him. He's a very handsome fellow, in great demand.
I've noticed that there are a lot of people these days who don't allow street shoes in their house. A lot of younger people seem to think that's only proper, the way it always has been.
I sorta thought it was sorta stupid. And awkward. And inconvenient for guests.
Well, I've found out why. I may have to ban shoes in my new house, or at least black rubber soles and spike heels.
Way back when, when I was a young'un, hardwood floors were hardwood. Hard wood. Hard. Wood. Solid, with some thickness. You could sand a quarter inch off to refinish them if necessary. Look at the 150-year-old houses with original floors. (This house is carpeted and tiled, no hardwood, but all my previous houses had real hardwood.)
The new house has parquet. I wasn't too happy with that because I was thinking of the squares. I don't like the squares. There's nothing wrong with them, Daughter has them, but it's just a personal dislike. Possibly because that's what our house had when I was in high school, and square parquet carries bad memories. Whatever. But it turns out the parquet in my new house is the long boards, so I'm ok with that.
I've been reading up on how to care for them, and, ta rah, high narrow heels can dent them. Dent? And they're not easy to refinish or sand out scratches, marks, or dents. It's cheaper and easier to replace the flooring.
So ok, now I understand the no shoes rule. Most new houses probably have parquet these days. But I still don't like the idea of making people take their shoes off. Do I have to provide slippers?
But, but, but, oh dear, does this mean I can't wear my stripper spikes in my bedroom? Bummer.
Today I went to the county fair - a very short trip just to get the freakin' french fries. That's the only thing I would regret if I didn't go. I'll write a bit on that later.