Friday, July 14, 2006
I volunteered at the Maritime Museum today, and finally, finally, a man came in who was worth flirting with!
He had come in with a woman. They were working with an environmental action group and wanted to find maps or aerial views of the river bank, and to use the computer to look some stuff up on their way to a meeting. I thought it was cute that he mentioned that they had "met up" to do this research and would have to go back such-and-such a way so she could retrieve her car. He didn't have to mention that. (Like, "Um, just to let you know we don't live together....") I was sure to mention that my late husband and I had attended blah blah, and I mentioned the village I live in (just in case he wanted to look in a phone book or anything like that).
I'm not going to sit around waiting for a call, but it was good practice. He leaned over the counter to read my badge at least three times, it was clear he was memorizing the name, so I might have done something right. I'm rather proud of myself. Flirting is new to me.
I didn't get much else done today, beyond stopping in at the Suzuki dealership to ask what that blank green rectangle on the dashboard display is (they didn't know), and to order a 2003 book. The 2006 book just doesn't make it.
The Hairless Hunk and I spent some time discussing what has to be done with the woods (damn, he's good looking!), and I had nice phone conversations with Daughter (who is visiting Penn State and her old fraternity house for the first time since she graduated), and Piper, and Roman.
The Hunk told me that he had talked recently with the young man who had cleared my woods. I had sold the guy an easement on my property for his electric line, for the house he's building behind mine, for $1 and the clearing of the woods. Coming across my property was about 1/3 the distance compared to coming up from the highway. It turns out that to come across my property requires that they put in another pole at the corner of my lot, and that one pole will cost him $10,000 to have it planted! So it turns out that it's actually cheaper for him to run the line up from the highway, since there would be no poles involved. Ouch! I almost feel sorry for the guy.
I spent a lot of time today reading Israeli and Lebanese blogs (see links on the right. Note - Links will be there on the main page, but not if you are looking only at this post). The contrast between what we hear on the news or read in the newspaper and what these bloggers are saying, is ... I can't think of an appropriate word. If you know what's really going on, the reasons and implications, you might be as frightened as I am.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
791 - Unhappinesses
Thursday, July 13, 2006
I drove the minivan today. The radio/CD player seems to have fixed itself. I went to the hardware store, took the long way. Bought some insect and weed sprays. Coming back, believe it or nor, the van stalled at the intersection right in front of the Chrysler/Dodge dealership. How interesting is that?
They said to bring it in tomorrow, but tomorrow I have to work at the museum, so I'm to take it in on Monday. I think Saturday or Sunday I'll chance it, and drive it to the mall. I need a new dehumidifier, and the van is my only means to get it home. The basement is starting to smell musty.
-----------------------------------
A complaint. Howcome whenever a movie or TV show wants to age a character with makeup (and we've talking comfortable middle class here, not bag ladies), they show them with half-open eyes, red around the eyes, and grey skin with what looks like black dirt in the creases? They put bushy eyebrows on them, especially for some reason the women. And they make the women's hair all fuzzy. Do they think the elderly get no sleep, are half asleep, never wash their faces, and never comb their hair?
Think of some elderly folks you know. As long as their minds are sharp, their eyes are likely to be MORE sparkley, not less. Their skin is likely to look more softly "baby-bottom pink", not grey or thickened. Older women are more likely to have sparse eyebrows from years of plucking, not bushy ones. And older women are more likely to have their hair professionally done.
Where are these makeup people getting their idea of what age looks like? It's really starting to annoy me.
I drove the minivan today. The radio/CD player seems to have fixed itself. I went to the hardware store, took the long way. Bought some insect and weed sprays. Coming back, believe it or nor, the van stalled at the intersection right in front of the Chrysler/Dodge dealership. How interesting is that?
They said to bring it in tomorrow, but tomorrow I have to work at the museum, so I'm to take it in on Monday. I think Saturday or Sunday I'll chance it, and drive it to the mall. I need a new dehumidifier, and the van is my only means to get it home. The basement is starting to smell musty.
-----------------------------------
A complaint. Howcome whenever a movie or TV show wants to age a character with makeup (and we've talking comfortable middle class here, not bag ladies), they show them with half-open eyes, red around the eyes, and grey skin with what looks like black dirt in the creases? They put bushy eyebrows on them, especially for some reason the women. And they make the women's hair all fuzzy. Do they think the elderly get no sleep, are half asleep, never wash their faces, and never comb their hair?
Think of some elderly folks you know. As long as their minds are sharp, their eyes are likely to be MORE sparkley, not less. Their skin is likely to look more softly "baby-bottom pink", not grey or thickened. Older women are more likely to have sparse eyebrows from years of plucking, not bushy ones. And older women are more likely to have their hair professionally done.
Where are these makeup people getting their idea of what age looks like? It's really starting to annoy me.
790 Machu Picchu
Thursday, July 13, 2006
[Edit - minor clarification - ignore if you've seen this already.]
Dinner last evening was at Machu Picchu, a Peruvian restaurant in Newburgh. (Interesting coincidence, Machu Picchu, Peru, was the locale for a "Nightline" story last night. When I was younger, I'd always wanted to go there. Now I know I can't handle the altitude.) The menu was a surprise. It included tripe, and some of the sauces contained potatoes, and there were Chinese items. I ended up with a thin (but tender) flank steak covered in sauteed tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions, with a scoop of rice on the side. The guy across from me had lo mein with the same vegetables mixed in, plus sweet and hot peppers.
There were only four of us. One woman (a professor at West Point, whose husband is currently in Iraq) had brought her toddler, so she had to leave early. The remaining three of us wanted dessert, but they didn't have any. Angela mentioned that there was an ice cream place "just up the road", so we decided to walk to it.
I forgot that Angela thinks nothing of a 10-mile run, and the 25-year-old guy with us runs several miles every morning. "Just up the road" turned out to be about a mile and a half - a three mile round trip. Ick! I was wearing flip-flops. Plastic flip-flops. (Not on purpose - they're what I wear around the house, and I forgot to change before I left.) But the goal of REAL frozen custard kept me going.
When we got there, the ice cream parlor was now a pizza parlor. There was a Baskin Robbins across the street, so that's where we ended up.
I'm sorry, Newburgh, but I find your Broadway scary. Maybe that's why we had so few people show up for dinner. Heading back to the cars after ice cream, we walked past at least two examples of your fearless cops in action, patting down suspects. We also saw several police cars flashing lights on the other side of the street far ahead of us, but by the time we got there the excitement was over. That's on a Wednesday night, about 9 pm. I'd hate to see Saturday.
But the trees lining the street are pretty. They distract attention from the crumbling concrete.
[Edit - minor clarification - ignore if you've seen this already.]
Dinner last evening was at Machu Picchu, a Peruvian restaurant in Newburgh. (Interesting coincidence, Machu Picchu, Peru, was the locale for a "Nightline" story last night. When I was younger, I'd always wanted to go there. Now I know I can't handle the altitude.) The menu was a surprise. It included tripe, and some of the sauces contained potatoes, and there were Chinese items. I ended up with a thin (but tender) flank steak covered in sauteed tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions, with a scoop of rice on the side. The guy across from me had lo mein with the same vegetables mixed in, plus sweet and hot peppers.
There were only four of us. One woman (a professor at West Point, whose husband is currently in Iraq) had brought her toddler, so she had to leave early. The remaining three of us wanted dessert, but they didn't have any. Angela mentioned that there was an ice cream place "just up the road", so we decided to walk to it.
I forgot that Angela thinks nothing of a 10-mile run, and the 25-year-old guy with us runs several miles every morning. "Just up the road" turned out to be about a mile and a half - a three mile round trip. Ick! I was wearing flip-flops. Plastic flip-flops. (Not on purpose - they're what I wear around the house, and I forgot to change before I left.) But the goal of REAL frozen custard kept me going.
When we got there, the ice cream parlor was now a pizza parlor. There was a Baskin Robbins across the street, so that's where we ended up.
I'm sorry, Newburgh, but I find your Broadway scary. Maybe that's why we had so few people show up for dinner. Heading back to the cars after ice cream, we walked past at least two examples of your fearless cops in action, patting down suspects. We also saw several police cars flashing lights on the other side of the street far ahead of us, but by the time we got there the excitement was over. That's on a Wednesday night, about 9 pm. I'd hate to see Saturday.
But the trees lining the street are pretty. They distract attention from the crumbling concrete.
789 Places I Have Lived
Just for the fun of it, this is a list of places I know I have lived. All I'm sure of in the first seven years are places where siblings were born - I'm sure there are more that I don't remember, because when my father was in Air Force schools in radar and electronics, we moved about every six weeks.
Scranton, Pennsylvania
Fayetteville, North Carolina
Biloxi, Mississippi
...other places I was too young to remember
Scranton, Pennsylvania
Hershey, Pennsylvania
Benton, Pennsylvania
Ottawa, Ontario (city)
Ottawa, Ontario (suburb)
Benton, Pennsylvania
Red Rock, Pennsylvania
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Scranton, Pennsylvania
Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania
Benton, Pennsylvania
Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania
Hanover, Pennsylvania
Bristol, Pennsylvania
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
Kingston, New York
Ruby, New York
Ballwin, Missouri
Germantown, Maryland
Highland, New York
Where I am now.... and have been for 12 years, the longest I've ever lived anywhere.
I guess I'm mostly Pennsylvanian, although the last 23 years I've lived in New York..
Scranton, Pennsylvania
Fayetteville, North Carolina
Biloxi, Mississippi
...other places I was too young to remember
Scranton, Pennsylvania
Hershey, Pennsylvania
Benton, Pennsylvania
Ottawa, Ontario (city)
Ottawa, Ontario (suburb)
Benton, Pennsylvania
Red Rock, Pennsylvania
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Scranton, Pennsylvania
Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania
Benton, Pennsylvania
Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania
Hanover, Pennsylvania
Bristol, Pennsylvania
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
Kingston, New York
Ruby, New York
Ballwin, Missouri
Germantown, Maryland
Highland, New York
Where I am now.... and have been for 12 years, the longest I've ever lived anywhere.
I guess I'm mostly Pennsylvanian, although the last 23 years I've lived in New York..
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
788 Crossed Fingers
I turned in the rental and picked up the new (to me) Aerio today. One of the papers that came with it has the name and address of the previous owner, so that's nice.
Then the Chrysler folks called. The minivan had been driven 56 miles by the technician who took it home, with no problems whatsoever. "Yesterday's stall must have been a fluke." So they came and got me, I paid (Almost $800 dollars!) for diagnosis, spark plugs, and rotors, and brought the van home. No problems with the motor or check engine light, but the second I pulled into the driveway, the radio display flashed "ERR---" and the radio cut out. I turned the radio off and back on, and it seems to think there's a CD in there, but there isn't one. Fooey. I wonder if they messed around in the dashboard with whatever they did. There's a scratch across the face of the radio display that wasn't there before.
Which makes me wonder - maybe I should try lowering and raising the ramp sometime soon.
I'll be driving the Aerio to Newburgh for dinner this evening. Maiden voyage. Cross fingers.
Then the Chrysler folks called. The minivan had been driven 56 miles by the technician who took it home, with no problems whatsoever. "Yesterday's stall must have been a fluke." So they came and got me, I paid (Almost $800 dollars!) for diagnosis, spark plugs, and rotors, and brought the van home. No problems with the motor or check engine light, but the second I pulled into the driveway, the radio display flashed "ERR---" and the radio cut out. I turned the radio off and back on, and it seems to think there's a CD in there, but there isn't one. Fooey. I wonder if they messed around in the dashboard with whatever they did. There's a scratch across the face of the radio display that wasn't there before.
Which makes me wonder - maybe I should try lowering and raising the ramp sometime soon.
I'll be driving the Aerio to Newburgh for dinner this evening. Maiden voyage. Cross fingers.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
787 More Minivan Misery
I got a call from Chrysler service at 12:45 pm today saying that the van was finished and I could come and get it.
Whoop whoop!
I said that I wasn't sure when I could get there since I had to call a taxi. They said they'd come and get me, "just give me a minute to find out who's free."
At 2:55, I called and asked if they knew yet when someone would be coming? I'd been hesitant to leave the house, even to get the mail. So the guy came then. He drove my minivan, and it was nice to see it coming up the road.
We headed back to the Chrysler place, he still driving, and ....
I was back home by 3:35, without the van. It stalled on the way back to the shop, so they've still got it.
Well, at least the "check engine" light didn't go on.
At 4:30 I got another call, asking for permission for a technician to take it home with him tonight, so it'll get more miles of test drive. They'd tried driving it around, and they'd let it run, and they couldn't get it to stall again. It didn't hesitate before it stalled this afternoon, so I think the "mixture problem", if that's what it was, is fixed. In my humble opinion, it needs the fuel injection thingy and the fuel lines cleaned.
-------------------------------------------
A few people have scolded me for not taking it to the dealership in the first place. Well, I've had very bad experiences with dealer service in the past (Ford and Chevy). In his defense, Mr. T. is really very good. They have no idiots in their shop - it's a family business, and all the younger folk have grown up in it. Mr. T. worked under his father until he died a few years ago, and now his son is moving up in the business. In fact, the Chrysler guy today said "Oh, yes, They're good. We sometimes send work to them when we can't handle it." So I don't feel that I made any bad choices. Mr. T. also doesn't charge when he doesn't fix.
Before I started taking the Ford Taurus to Mr. T., I had taken it to the Ford dealership shop. I noticed something odd. Every time they fixed something, within a week or two something else major went. Every six months or so, I had to get two, three, or four things fixed one after another. Once I started taking it to Mr. T., when things got fixed, there were no further problems for a long time. I really don't think it was just coincidence, because several times when I wanted something done and Mr. T. couldn't fit me in the schedule, and I'd take it to the dealer, the same pattern happened again.
The Chevy dealer shop was just plain incompetent. Plus they never listened to symptoms, and never took them into consideration. They just replaced things in some kind of priority order until something worked. And charged me for everything, of course.
An example was when I had some kind of electrical problem with the Cavalier that occurred ONLY when water splashed up from underneath. No problem in ordinary rain, mind you, unless I went through a deep puddle, or if it was raining hard enough and I was going fast enough that road water splashed up. And even then, it took a good 20 minutes or 30 miles before it started happening. Never any problem on dry roads, and never any problem starting even in pouring rain. So I took it to the Chevy dealer and described it as specifically as possible.
They replaced the fuel pump. I freaked. "It CAN'T be the fuel pump!" They said they tested it, and it's fine now. "How did you test it?" We drove it to uptown and back and it was fine. "That's it? It hasn't rained in a week. Did you run it through water?" No, why would we want to do that? "Agggghhhhh..........!!!" I refused to pay for the fuel pump. So they replaced some other stuff, belts, seals, whatever. Nothing that made any sense whatsoever. And they always insisted it was fixed because it had no problem on sunny days. Three more replacements and a threat of lawsuit (because I refused to pay for replaced parts I had not approved), I took it to Mr. T.
He replaced the spark plug wires. He said they were carbon and have a history of shorting out when they get wet. Problem solved. (Partially. He had to replace them with exactly the same thing, so that fix lasted on average 10 months, and then had to be done again, so there was some basic design problem somewhere. You'd think that if Mr. T. knew about it, the Chevy dealer would too.)
So that's why I went with Mr. T. and resisted the dealership for so long.
Whoop whoop!
I said that I wasn't sure when I could get there since I had to call a taxi. They said they'd come and get me, "just give me a minute to find out who's free."
At 2:55, I called and asked if they knew yet when someone would be coming? I'd been hesitant to leave the house, even to get the mail. So the guy came then. He drove my minivan, and it was nice to see it coming up the road.
We headed back to the Chrysler place, he still driving, and ....
I was back home by 3:35, without the van. It stalled on the way back to the shop, so they've still got it.
Well, at least the "check engine" light didn't go on.
At 4:30 I got another call, asking for permission for a technician to take it home with him tonight, so it'll get more miles of test drive. They'd tried driving it around, and they'd let it run, and they couldn't get it to stall again. It didn't hesitate before it stalled this afternoon, so I think the "mixture problem", if that's what it was, is fixed. In my humble opinion, it needs the fuel injection thingy and the fuel lines cleaned.
-------------------------------------------
A few people have scolded me for not taking it to the dealership in the first place. Well, I've had very bad experiences with dealer service in the past (Ford and Chevy). In his defense, Mr. T. is really very good. They have no idiots in their shop - it's a family business, and all the younger folk have grown up in it. Mr. T. worked under his father until he died a few years ago, and now his son is moving up in the business. In fact, the Chrysler guy today said "Oh, yes, They're good. We sometimes send work to them when we can't handle it." So I don't feel that I made any bad choices. Mr. T. also doesn't charge when he doesn't fix.
Before I started taking the Ford Taurus to Mr. T., I had taken it to the Ford dealership shop. I noticed something odd. Every time they fixed something, within a week or two something else major went. Every six months or so, I had to get two, three, or four things fixed one after another. Once I started taking it to Mr. T., when things got fixed, there were no further problems for a long time. I really don't think it was just coincidence, because several times when I wanted something done and Mr. T. couldn't fit me in the schedule, and I'd take it to the dealer, the same pattern happened again.
The Chevy dealer shop was just plain incompetent. Plus they never listened to symptoms, and never took them into consideration. They just replaced things in some kind of priority order until something worked. And charged me for everything, of course.
An example was when I had some kind of electrical problem with the Cavalier that occurred ONLY when water splashed up from underneath. No problem in ordinary rain, mind you, unless I went through a deep puddle, or if it was raining hard enough and I was going fast enough that road water splashed up. And even then, it took a good 20 minutes or 30 miles before it started happening. Never any problem on dry roads, and never any problem starting even in pouring rain. So I took it to the Chevy dealer and described it as specifically as possible.
They replaced the fuel pump. I freaked. "It CAN'T be the fuel pump!" They said they tested it, and it's fine now. "How did you test it?" We drove it to uptown and back and it was fine. "That's it? It hasn't rained in a week. Did you run it through water?" No, why would we want to do that? "Agggghhhhh..........!!!" I refused to pay for the fuel pump. So they replaced some other stuff, belts, seals, whatever. Nothing that made any sense whatsoever. And they always insisted it was fixed because it had no problem on sunny days. Three more replacements and a threat of lawsuit (because I refused to pay for replaced parts I had not approved), I took it to Mr. T.
He replaced the spark plug wires. He said they were carbon and have a history of shorting out when they get wet. Problem solved. (Partially. He had to replace them with exactly the same thing, so that fix lasted on average 10 months, and then had to be done again, so there was some basic design problem somewhere. You'd think that if Mr. T. knew about it, the Chevy dealer would too.)
So that's why I went with Mr. T. and resisted the dealership for so long.
Monday, July 10, 2006
786 I Bought a Car
Monday, July 10, 2006
Busy day today. I got up early, drove to Mr. T.'s, picked up the minivan and drove it to the Chrysler-Dodge dealer's, talked to the service folks there, and then read my book for an hour until one of their people could give me a ride back to Mr. T.'s.
Then I stopped in at Piper's office to get some advice about what I could afford to pay for another car, but he wasn't in yet, so I went to the cafe down the block and had a late breakfast. Saw Piper's car arrive, called him, he said come on in, so I did. We ended up back at the same cafe for coffee (& tea).
He: "You can afford any new car you want. Why are you looking at used cars?"
Me: "Because I fully intend to buy a new car in a year or two, but when I do, I want to really research it. Test drive a lot. Talk to people. That takes more time than I have now."
He: "You don't have the time now? What's the rush?"
Me: "I don't want to keep paying rental car prices, and there's no guarantee when the minivan will be fixed. And I'm going to Orlando in early August, and I want something reliable to drive to the airport in Newark. I need something NOW. I'm essentially BUYING this flippin' rental car, and they STILL want me to give it back someday! I may as well buy a car I can resell later."
So he's cutting a check for me.
He asked exactly when my flight is, and it so happens he has meetings scheduled that afternoon near the airport, so he offered me a ride down. I said thank you, but I still have to get back home, and the long term parking isn't expensive, I don't mind driving. So when he went back to his office this afternoon, he rescheduled some other meetings so he can pick me up after the return flight, too. Very nice of him. It's only now, sitting here alone, that I remember that the last few times we've had lunch someplace we had to drive to, I drove, because his driving scares me. And I don't scare that easily!
Daughter, don't scold me, "You're leading him on!" He offered as a friend, and I accepted as a friend. He knows the score. I've often been told that I don't accept gifts or offers of help gracefully. I'm trying.
After leaving Piper, I went across the river to the Subaru/Suzuki dealer, and looked again at the used Suzuki Aerio sedan. I test drove it. It's a good thing I had read the reviews yesterday, so I was prepared for the strange steering (hard to describe - tight, and it doesn't feel connected to the wheels) and the way it revs very high before shifting. From what I'd read, I know that's normal for this model. The steering takes some getting used to, and it revs high until it's well warmed up. The speedometer is a digital readout instead of a needle on a dial, and it took me about 30 seconds to decide I really really do like that. You don't have to visually/mentally process it when you look at it.
I asked if the car was local (thinking "no Katrina car, thank you") and if the service records were available. The salesman wasn't sure where the car came from, but then he found the folder, and the car was originally purchased new from them, all the major service was done by them, and the previous owner is well known - he buys a new car every three years (when the "everything else" warranty runs out). I believe him. It still has the drivetrain warranty, so if there are major problems he's not mentioning, it's their problem. So far so good.
I bought it.
It's a bit funny looking - like a cross between a sedan, an SUV, and a tank. Here's a picture of a 2003 Suzuki Aerio sedan. Mine's white, with barely visible sparkles in the paint. Four door. CD player. A/C. Power everything. About 36,480 miles on it. Four years remaining on the drivetrain warranty, and I also bought a one-year extension on the "everything else" warranty. Back seats (split) fold down if you want to put long stuff in the trunk. Nice clean gray suede-like upholstery. No evidence of any bodywork or replaced glass. Less than $9,000.
I asked the sales manager why they were selling it for less than the Blue Book value, and he looked stunned for a moment, then waved his arm at the used car lot, and said "We're mainly a new car dealer. We get a LOT of trade-ins. We gotta sell 'em. We're not losing money on the sale...." (Note to self - If I ever buy a new car there, drive a hard deal on the trade-in value they'll allow me. There's apparently some negotiating room.)
They'll handle financing (I plan to pay it off as soon as Piper's check arrives, so I don't care what rate they get, and NYS doesn't allow penalties for early payment), registration, plates, insurance, etc. I get to pick it up Wednesday, at noon, all legal and ready to go.
When I got home, there was a message on the phone from the Chrysler/Dodge shop regarding the minivan. It will be finished and ready to go tomorrow. Duh? I called them back "right quick I tell ya what!"
He: "The front brake rotors are pitted and it needs new spark plugs."
Me: "Ok. No problem. I did feel a pull in the brakes. And the hesitation-stalling-check engine light problem?"
He: "That's the O2 sensor. The connections were bent."
Me: "The O2 sensor? Which one?"
He: "The same one that's been replaced twice already. It looks like when somebody put one in, they forced it, jammed it in, and it bent the connections. So the computer was getting intermittent bad data, and was feeding the engine based on bad data, and that's what was causing the hesitation and stalling, and the check engine lights. We just straightened out the connections. No charge."
Me: "And this is going to fix everything?"
He: "Yup. 'Course you'll have to drive it a bit to make sure, but those bent connections were definitely a problem."
The latest O2 sensor was installed by the second-choice service station, remember? The guys I forced to honor the warranty and do it free. If this DOES fix the problem, you can bet they're going to hear about it. I guess that's the automotive equivalent of spitting in my food.
Busy day today. I got up early, drove to Mr. T.'s, picked up the minivan and drove it to the Chrysler-Dodge dealer's, talked to the service folks there, and then read my book for an hour until one of their people could give me a ride back to Mr. T.'s.
Then I stopped in at Piper's office to get some advice about what I could afford to pay for another car, but he wasn't in yet, so I went to the cafe down the block and had a late breakfast. Saw Piper's car arrive, called him, he said come on in, so I did. We ended up back at the same cafe for coffee (& tea).
He: "You can afford any new car you want. Why are you looking at used cars?"
Me: "Because I fully intend to buy a new car in a year or two, but when I do, I want to really research it. Test drive a lot. Talk to people. That takes more time than I have now."
He: "You don't have the time now? What's the rush?"
Me: "I don't want to keep paying rental car prices, and there's no guarantee when the minivan will be fixed. And I'm going to Orlando in early August, and I want something reliable to drive to the airport in Newark. I need something NOW. I'm essentially BUYING this flippin' rental car, and they STILL want me to give it back someday! I may as well buy a car I can resell later."
So he's cutting a check for me.
He asked exactly when my flight is, and it so happens he has meetings scheduled that afternoon near the airport, so he offered me a ride down. I said thank you, but I still have to get back home, and the long term parking isn't expensive, I don't mind driving. So when he went back to his office this afternoon, he rescheduled some other meetings so he can pick me up after the return flight, too. Very nice of him. It's only now, sitting here alone, that I remember that the last few times we've had lunch someplace we had to drive to, I drove, because his driving scares me. And I don't scare that easily!
Daughter, don't scold me, "You're leading him on!" He offered as a friend, and I accepted as a friend. He knows the score. I've often been told that I don't accept gifts or offers of help gracefully. I'm trying.
After leaving Piper, I went across the river to the Subaru/Suzuki dealer, and looked again at the used Suzuki Aerio sedan. I test drove it. It's a good thing I had read the reviews yesterday, so I was prepared for the strange steering (hard to describe - tight, and it doesn't feel connected to the wheels) and the way it revs very high before shifting. From what I'd read, I know that's normal for this model. The steering takes some getting used to, and it revs high until it's well warmed up. The speedometer is a digital readout instead of a needle on a dial, and it took me about 30 seconds to decide I really really do like that. You don't have to visually/mentally process it when you look at it.
I asked if the car was local (thinking "no Katrina car, thank you") and if the service records were available. The salesman wasn't sure where the car came from, but then he found the folder, and the car was originally purchased new from them, all the major service was done by them, and the previous owner is well known - he buys a new car every three years (when the "everything else" warranty runs out). I believe him. It still has the drivetrain warranty, so if there are major problems he's not mentioning, it's their problem. So far so good.
I bought it.
It's a bit funny looking - like a cross between a sedan, an SUV, and a tank. Here's a picture of a 2003 Suzuki Aerio sedan. Mine's white, with barely visible sparkles in the paint. Four door. CD player. A/C. Power everything. About 36,480 miles on it. Four years remaining on the drivetrain warranty, and I also bought a one-year extension on the "everything else" warranty. Back seats (split) fold down if you want to put long stuff in the trunk. Nice clean gray suede-like upholstery. No evidence of any bodywork or replaced glass. Less than $9,000.
I asked the sales manager why they were selling it for less than the Blue Book value, and he looked stunned for a moment, then waved his arm at the used car lot, and said "We're mainly a new car dealer. We get a LOT of trade-ins. We gotta sell 'em. We're not losing money on the sale...." (Note to self - If I ever buy a new car there, drive a hard deal on the trade-in value they'll allow me. There's apparently some negotiating room.)
They'll handle financing (I plan to pay it off as soon as Piper's check arrives, so I don't care what rate they get, and NYS doesn't allow penalties for early payment), registration, plates, insurance, etc. I get to pick it up Wednesday, at noon, all legal and ready to go.
When I got home, there was a message on the phone from the Chrysler/Dodge shop regarding the minivan. It will be finished and ready to go tomorrow. Duh? I called them back "right quick I tell ya what!"
He: "The front brake rotors are pitted and it needs new spark plugs."
Me: "Ok. No problem. I did feel a pull in the brakes. And the hesitation-stalling-check engine light problem?"
He: "That's the O2 sensor. The connections were bent."
Me: "The O2 sensor? Which one?"
He: "The same one that's been replaced twice already. It looks like when somebody put one in, they forced it, jammed it in, and it bent the connections. So the computer was getting intermittent bad data, and was feeding the engine based on bad data, and that's what was causing the hesitation and stalling, and the check engine lights. We just straightened out the connections. No charge."
Me: "And this is going to fix everything?"
He: "Yup. 'Course you'll have to drive it a bit to make sure, but those bent connections were definitely a problem."
The latest O2 sensor was installed by the second-choice service station, remember? The guys I forced to honor the warranty and do it free. If this DOES fix the problem, you can bet they're going to hear about it. I guess that's the automotive equivalent of spitting in my food.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
785 Magic - The Ball Knows All
I lifted this from Ally at Simply Me Ally. (She takes nice photos, BTW.)
I had an 8-Ball when I was a pre-teen, and it's funny how much faith I still have in its answers! I even test it by asking questions to which I already know the answers, and it's always right. So, therefore, it must be right on all answers, right?
Click the 8-Ball to begin...
I had an 8-Ball when I was a pre-teen, and it's funny how much faith I still have in its answers! I even test it by asking questions to which I already know the answers, and it's always right. So, therefore, it must be right on all answers, right?
Click the 8-Ball to begin...784 New SUVs
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Anyone else notice that the new SUVs look a lot like mini-minivans?
[Personal to Caroline from the UK, I replied to your comment.]
Anyone else notice that the new SUVs look a lot like mini-minivans?
[Personal to Caroline from the UK, I replied to your comment.]
783 Nothing Sunday
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Nothing day. I was awakened early this morning by a call from the Maritime Museum - they needed someone to tend the gift shop today. I said I couldn't. I considered it, but I need time to catch up on stuff here after having been away Friday and Saturday.
Tomorrow will be a full day. I have to move the van from Mr. T.'s to the Chrysler dealership first thing in the morning, then I need to talk to Piper about the best way to handle the car problem, and by 5 pm I hope to have the problem solved, by finding and starting the paperwork on another vehicle, I hope....
I'm liking the used car I found on Thursday at the Subaru lot more and more. I hope it's still there.
Nothing day. I was awakened early this morning by a call from the Maritime Museum - they needed someone to tend the gift shop today. I said I couldn't. I considered it, but I need time to catch up on stuff here after having been away Friday and Saturday.
Tomorrow will be a full day. I have to move the van from Mr. T.'s to the Chrysler dealership first thing in the morning, then I need to talk to Piper about the best way to handle the car problem, and by 5 pm I hope to have the problem solved, by finding and starting the paperwork on another vehicle, I hope....
I'm liking the used car I found on Thursday at the Subaru lot more and more. I hope it's still there.
Friday, July 07, 2006
782 Leading Candidate Rounds the Final Turn!
Daughter and the Leading-Candidate-For-Son-In-Law applied for the New Jersey marriage license today. I was a witness. I'm risking a $7,500 fine by swearing that they are both mentally competent.
Hercules has rounded the final turn and is headed for the wire!
Hercules has rounded the final turn and is headed for the wire!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
781 Car Shopping
Thursday, July 6, 2006
We are supposed to have a rare few days without rain starting today, so I had planned to spray the prickly stickery nasty stuff that's trying to return to the cleared side yard.
Instead, after Mr. T.'s call about the van, I went to the Chrysler Dodge dealership down the road to talk to someone in the service department and make an appointment for Monday.
Then, on impulse, I decided to go car "window shopping". Just to find out what's available, and how much I'm likely to have to pay.
Since this is a "backup car", which I might trade in on a "real car" in a year or two, I don't want to pay much. I will consider new or used, depending on value for price. Therefore, my criteria:
Small
Simple
Cheap
Dependable
No more than three years old
Less than 60,000 miles
Preferably an import
"Certified", with decent warranty
I can take to Mr. T. for his opinion
Seller will service, and is reasonably close to my home
Color, style, and appearance are of no importance
I hit five new-and-used dealers, and it looks like I'll pay at a minimum $15,000 for new, and $9,000 for used within my criteria.
The 2006 Kia Rio is supposed to be the best value for the money, and that's what I'm driving now from Enterprise and I like it ok for a backup car, but the nearest Kia dealership is more than 30 miles away, and that's too far if something goes wrong during the warranty period. So I don't know.
You might ask, "Why not just bite the bullet and buy the 'real car' now?" Because I need something RIGHT NOW, as soon as possible, so I can get out from under the rental fees, and definitely before the end of July, and I haven't done the research yet to select a real car. Eventually I want a hybrid, but they're not ready for me yet. And I don't know yet what shape the minivan will be in, so it's hard to plan.
Oh, something funny happened. The first place I went was to a used car dealer that I know. He said that he had only one car on the lot that met my criteria, and it was a really nice one. He handed me the keys. I got in, started it, and ...
... the "check engine" light went on!!!!
And stayed on.
The salesman looked shocked.
Gee, maybe it's me?
We are supposed to have a rare few days without rain starting today, so I had planned to spray the prickly stickery nasty stuff that's trying to return to the cleared side yard.
Instead, after Mr. T.'s call about the van, I went to the Chrysler Dodge dealership down the road to talk to someone in the service department and make an appointment for Monday.
Then, on impulse, I decided to go car "window shopping". Just to find out what's available, and how much I'm likely to have to pay.
Since this is a "backup car", which I might trade in on a "real car" in a year or two, I don't want to pay much. I will consider new or used, depending on value for price. Therefore, my criteria:
Small
Simple
Cheap
Dependable
No more than three years old
Less than 60,000 miles
Preferably an import
"Certified", with decent warranty
I can take to Mr. T. for his opinion
Seller will service, and is reasonably close to my home
Color, style, and appearance are of no importance
I hit five new-and-used dealers, and it looks like I'll pay at a minimum $15,000 for new, and $9,000 for used within my criteria.
The 2006 Kia Rio is supposed to be the best value for the money, and that's what I'm driving now from Enterprise and I like it ok for a backup car, but the nearest Kia dealership is more than 30 miles away, and that's too far if something goes wrong during the warranty period. So I don't know.
You might ask, "Why not just bite the bullet and buy the 'real car' now?" Because I need something RIGHT NOW, as soon as possible, so I can get out from under the rental fees, and definitely before the end of July, and I haven't done the research yet to select a real car. Eventually I want a hybrid, but they're not ready for me yet. And I don't know yet what shape the minivan will be in, so it's hard to plan.
Oh, something funny happened. The first place I went was to a used car dealer that I know. He said that he had only one car on the lot that met my criteria, and it was a really nice one. He handed me the keys. I got in, started it, and ...
... the "check engine" light went on!!!!
And stayed on.
The salesman looked shocked.
Gee, maybe it's me?
780 Van News - Expensive News!
Thursday, July 6, 2006
Mr. T. called this morning. He said that he went to the local Chrysler dealer and talked to the service guy. They figure the problem is probably (no guarantees) in the wiring harness to the computer. Mr. T. says the dealership might be able to tweak and repair it, and they have better access to parts, so I should take the van to them. Mr. T. would have to replace rather than repair, and that's $1300 to $1800. And it could still be that much at the dealer.
And even if it's "fixed", I'm nervous. I'm thinking I'm going to have to buy a small, cheap, maybe used car, for just in case. In the past six months, I've driven something like six weeks worth of rental cars, and that's ridiculous.
Mr. T. says it's time to get rid of the van. I suspect what he's really saying is "I don't want to work on this dog anymore. Go buy me something nicer and simpler to work on."
In good shape, because of its rarity and the demand for handicap-equipped minivans, I could get close to $30,000 for it. But I won't get much if it's not dependable. It looks like I'd have to fix it, THEN sell it, but if it's fixed well enough to sell, I won't want to sell it. Deep breath.
My earlier moans about finances are increased. I am very unhappy.
It's not like I don't have it, but I'd have to spend from working principal (as opposed to a savings account, which since the reroofing is zero), and that's against my principles. Spending principal reduces my income - forever! It especially grates this year. We moved me out of 100% equity (stock) and into a mix of equity, fixed, and money market. Piper keeps saying that all these tax-free bonds he's buying me will "save a fortune in income tax" thereby significantly increasing my effective annual income. The other day, I startled him by pointing out that it will take seven years! of tax free interest income to make up for the enormous capital gains tax I have to pay this year (out of principal!) on all that stock we sold.
I'm getting really nervous. Mother is not happy.
Mr. T. called this morning. He said that he went to the local Chrysler dealer and talked to the service guy. They figure the problem is probably (no guarantees) in the wiring harness to the computer. Mr. T. says the dealership might be able to tweak and repair it, and they have better access to parts, so I should take the van to them. Mr. T. would have to replace rather than repair, and that's $1300 to $1800. And it could still be that much at the dealer.
And even if it's "fixed", I'm nervous. I'm thinking I'm going to have to buy a small, cheap, maybe used car, for just in case. In the past six months, I've driven something like six weeks worth of rental cars, and that's ridiculous.
Mr. T. says it's time to get rid of the van. I suspect what he's really saying is "I don't want to work on this dog anymore. Go buy me something nicer and simpler to work on."
In good shape, because of its rarity and the demand for handicap-equipped minivans, I could get close to $30,000 for it. But I won't get much if it's not dependable. It looks like I'd have to fix it, THEN sell it, but if it's fixed well enough to sell, I won't want to sell it. Deep breath.
My earlier moans about finances are increased. I am very unhappy.
It's not like I don't have it, but I'd have to spend from working principal (as opposed to a savings account, which since the reroofing is zero), and that's against my principles. Spending principal reduces my income - forever! It especially grates this year. We moved me out of 100% equity (stock) and into a mix of equity, fixed, and money market. Piper keeps saying that all these tax-free bonds he's buying me will "save a fortune in income tax" thereby significantly increasing my effective annual income. The other day, I startled him by pointing out that it will take seven years! of tax free interest income to make up for the enormous capital gains tax I have to pay this year (out of principal!) on all that stock we sold.
I'm getting really nervous. Mother is not happy.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
779 Dance Videos - Smaller Versions
I've been sending these to Daughter. I forgot there might be others interested.
Willow has created smaller versions of her routines from the show at SUNY New Paltz on June 17. If you didn't have the patience for the one I posted earlier, these should be quicker loading.
Video - Willow Finger Cymbals -Aziza - Small File - 8 mb
Video - Willow Floorwork - Armut Agaci - Small File - 4.6 mb
based on choreography by Ansuya
Willow has created smaller versions of her routines from the show at SUNY New Paltz on June 17. If you didn't have the patience for the one I posted earlier, these should be quicker loading.
Video - Willow Finger Cymbals -Aziza - Small File - 8 mb
Video - Willow Floorwork - Armut Agaci - Small File - 4.6 mb
based on choreography by Ansuya
778 DBA; Fun With Journaling
Wednesday, July 5, 2006
[07/06 Edit - added date and changed font sizes. That's all, folks!]
I got up early and dressed to go to the county offices to renew my "assumed name" (as New York State calls what everyone else knows as a DBA). I had been told by my accountant that it would need renewal after two years. I had originally applied for "(Hidden)" on July 9, 2004. But when I dug out the documents, even though I applied for it in July, the papers from the state are dated May, 2005. So when do I have to renew? Now or next May? The accountant had also said that the state would send me a reminder, but I know better than to depend on New York State.
I called the county record center, and they said it never expires. I have to actively cancel it.
I'm not sure who to believe. At any rate, I didn't go. Heck, it's a 45 minute drive, one way.
----------------------------------
I am again amused by the site statistics (SiteMeter.com). The count of people looking for "800-503-7001" has shot up again. (And if you're one of them, type the phone number into the white box above, and click on "search this blog". Then read the entries and the comments. It's a scam, especially if they mentioned a "yp.com" web site, and you should watch your phone bill carefully for a few months.)
Somebody in Doha, Qatar, ended up here by searching for "i love silk against my skin feel it trail it over my thighs". Whoa! I wonder what he or she was really looking for. A poem, perhaps? It's certainly pretty specific. This is what the search engine hit on in my journal: "I haven't been active on eBay in over a year. So, how did "Silk ... That's what it feels like, mostly all over my thighs and ... Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry ...". Bits from hither and yon, unrelated to each other.
Another person, from Durham, North Carolina, found me by searching for "locating and correcting reading difficulties". My journal was on page 18 (!!) of the search results. One wonders, given what he or she was obviously looking for, why he/she bothered to click on and read my journal. Especially when the search hit produced, from this journal, "to lie, and not to allow her to believe untruths by not correcting... I had assumed that the other woman had physical difficulties, but NJ ...".
Accidentally getting this journal when you're searching for something else is one thing. Actually clicking on it and reading it when it's so obviously not what you're looking for is something else. Curiouser and curiouser.
----------------------------------------------------
With such a slow connection, when a site is loading, I can watch the process messages at the bottom, like "Waiting for www.xxx.com", and "Transferring data from www.xxx.com', and so on. More and more lately, I've been seeing mention of "tribalfusion.com" in those messages. Huh? Why do I see a reference to tribalfusion.com when I'm loading something like a news site, or whatever?
Y'all know I have an interest in belly dance. There are several schools or styles - what most people are familiar with is cabaret. I kinda like American Tribal Style (ATS). "Fusion" means a melding of two or more styles or forms. It's entirely possible that in the past I had visited a site named "TribalFusion". So seeing it jumping in there almost every time I visit somewhere else is disturbing.
Turns out tribalfusion.com is an advertising placement site! Nothing whatsoever to do with any form of dance. I wonder how and why they chose that name.
Just another thing I don't understand....
[07/06 Edit - added date and changed font sizes. That's all, folks!]
I got up early and dressed to go to the county offices to renew my "assumed name" (as New York State calls what everyone else knows as a DBA). I had been told by my accountant that it would need renewal after two years. I had originally applied for "(Hidden)" on July 9, 2004. But when I dug out the documents, even though I applied for it in July, the papers from the state are dated May, 2005. So when do I have to renew? Now or next May? The accountant had also said that the state would send me a reminder, but I know better than to depend on New York State.
I called the county record center, and they said it never expires. I have to actively cancel it.
I'm not sure who to believe. At any rate, I didn't go. Heck, it's a 45 minute drive, one way.
----------------------------------
I am again amused by the site statistics (SiteMeter.com). The count of people looking for "800-503-7001" has shot up again. (And if you're one of them, type the phone number into the white box above, and click on "search this blog". Then read the entries and the comments. It's a scam, especially if they mentioned a "yp.com" web site, and you should watch your phone bill carefully for a few months.)
Somebody in Doha, Qatar, ended up here by searching for "i love silk against my skin feel it trail it over my thighs". Whoa! I wonder what he or she was really looking for. A poem, perhaps? It's certainly pretty specific. This is what the search engine hit on in my journal: "I haven't been active on eBay in over a year. So, how did "Silk ... That's what it feels like, mostly all over my thighs and ... Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry ...". Bits from hither and yon, unrelated to each other.
Another person, from Durham, North Carolina, found me by searching for "locating and correcting reading difficulties". My journal was on page 18 (!!) of the search results. One wonders, given what he or she was obviously looking for, why he/she bothered to click on and read my journal. Especially when the search hit produced, from this journal, "to lie, and not to allow her to believe untruths by not correcting... I had assumed that the other woman had physical difficulties, but NJ ...".
Accidentally getting this journal when you're searching for something else is one thing. Actually clicking on it and reading it when it's so obviously not what you're looking for is something else. Curiouser and curiouser.
----------------------------------------------------
With such a slow connection, when a site is loading, I can watch the process messages at the bottom, like "Waiting for www.xxx.com", and "Transferring data from www.xxx.com', and so on. More and more lately, I've been seeing mention of "tribalfusion.com" in those messages. Huh? Why do I see a reference to tribalfusion.com when I'm loading something like a news site, or whatever?
Y'all know I have an interest in belly dance. There are several schools or styles - what most people are familiar with is cabaret. I kinda like American Tribal Style (ATS). "Fusion" means a melding of two or more styles or forms. It's entirely possible that in the past I had visited a site named "TribalFusion". So seeing it jumping in there almost every time I visit somewhere else is disturbing.
Turns out tribalfusion.com is an advertising placement site! Nothing whatsoever to do with any form of dance. I wonder how and why they chose that name.
Just another thing I don't understand....
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
777 Tuesday, July 4, 2006 - All Quiet
No big holiday stuff here. Just another day in the village.
I worked at the Maritime Museum today, running the cash register. The Rondout wasn't as crowded as one would expect on a holiday, but we still had a lot of visitors.
There was a large river cruise ship tied up at the museum docks. It seems that it had been headed up river to the Erie Canal toward Buffalo, but because of all the rain, flooding has blown out several of the locks on the canal, and the canal is closed. There have been stories on the TV about people in private boats who are stranded at points along the canal - living on their boats and wondering how they'll get the boats home. The locks may not be repaired for a very long time, if ever.
So anyway, the cruise ship is desperately trying to find alternate things to amuse the passengers. They loaded them on buses today and took them to the Roosevelt Mansion, and after they got back, many of them visited the Maritime Museum.
There are no fireworks in Kingston tonight. Kingston did their fireworks a week or so ago (in pouring rain!). The cruise ship would have done better to have docked near Saugerties or Hudson (but I don't think there's any place they could dock there). Maybe they'll take a run up the river tonight? I hope so.... Otherwise it's pretty sad for the passengers.
As I was typing that, I could hear fireworks. We used to be able to see them from from the deck, from like 25 miles north to 10 miles south, and all the way west to Woodstock, but the trees have grown up too high and thick, and I can't see anything any more. Not while leaves are on the trees, anyway.
Where's all that wind when you need it?
I worked at the Maritime Museum today, running the cash register. The Rondout wasn't as crowded as one would expect on a holiday, but we still had a lot of visitors.
There was a large river cruise ship tied up at the museum docks. It seems that it had been headed up river to the Erie Canal toward Buffalo, but because of all the rain, flooding has blown out several of the locks on the canal, and the canal is closed. There have been stories on the TV about people in private boats who are stranded at points along the canal - living on their boats and wondering how they'll get the boats home. The locks may not be repaired for a very long time, if ever.
So anyway, the cruise ship is desperately trying to find alternate things to amuse the passengers. They loaded them on buses today and took them to the Roosevelt Mansion, and after they got back, many of them visited the Maritime Museum.
There are no fireworks in Kingston tonight. Kingston did their fireworks a week or so ago (in pouring rain!). The cruise ship would have done better to have docked near Saugerties or Hudson (but I don't think there's any place they could dock there). Maybe they'll take a run up the river tonight? I hope so.... Otherwise it's pretty sad for the passengers.
As I was typing that, I could hear fireworks. We used to be able to see them from from the deck, from like 25 miles north to 10 miles south, and all the way west to Woodstock, but the trees have grown up too high and thick, and I can't see anything any more. Not while leaves are on the trees, anyway.
Where's all that wind when you need it?
776 The Votary
This is the musing of a layperson working with too little information, in an effort to explain to herself something she needs to understand in order to handle her own feelings. An excuse. A vindication. So this is more about me than about anyone else (as is everything else in this journal, for that matter - everybody should remember that).
I've been doing a lot of internet research on a medical matter for a friend. Along the way, I came across something interesting.
I found a syndrome in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) that got me thinking. I don't want to get specific as to what it's called, and I have to use different terms to describe it, because if you go look for it, most of what you'll find out there describes the extreme cases, and naturally, it can get pretty sensational. What I'm thinking about isn't sensational. Just interesting.
The syndrome has three levels. The case that interests me is mild, at the lowest of the three levels. There's a name for people at that lowest level. I've been trying to find a good alias, and I've decided to use "The Votary", a term that implies committment and devotion.
The way it starts, The Votary grows up in a family where there are high expectations and little affection expressed. He (it's 10 to 1 a male) feels early on that he isn't good enough, that he is a disappointment to his parents, that nothing he does meets their expectations. He craves his mother's attention and approval, he wants softness from her, but he doesn't get it. He feels inadequate.
Usually between 4 and 10 years of age, The Votary is made aware of someone who has been lamed by an illness or an accident, who uses a legbrace, wheelchair, prosthetic, or other assistance. (Most people with this syndrome are now in their 50s to 70s, and had friends or family members who contracted polio.) His parents admire and express for the impaired person the affection, admiration, and softness that he wants so badly for himself.
Sometimes the child is expected to care for and assist the impaired person, whether they want to or not. Sometimes the child wishes that he himself was impaired, so his parents would love and admire and care for him, too.
Most Votaries grow up to be sensitive, caring, thoughtful, and altruistic adults with a need to be in a loving relationship. They have a strong need to care for others. Caring for others is the highest goal. It brings them fulfillment. It makes them feel worthwhile. It might even bring them the approval they crave. (Approval from themselves? Their parents? Society? Their Diety? A justification for their life, the higher calling above personal happiness?)
They are extremely aware of and solicitous toward handicapped acquaintances, and, seeing someone limping or wearing legbraces might even cause a physiological response. This is the key definition of the lower level of the syndrome - the interest in the lameness, the fascination with the condition, the need to get close to it, to help.
That's general. Let's propose a specific instance:
Along comes a woman. A woman wearing a legbrace, suffering the pain and fatigue of Post-Polio Syndrome, let's say. An attractive recent divorcee, at the moment when The Votary is going through his own divorce. A woman who needs assistance. A Votary who needs emotional support.
There's something called the Polio Personality. People who have had polio tend to be "Type-A" personalities. A drive to succeed, to overcome, to achieve independence, a perfectionist. The diagnosis of PPS can be devastating to someone who has worked so hard all her life to be "normal" despite her handicap. She's in a hard place.
The Votary puts her on a pedestal and sees her as someone to be admired for her strength and courage in overcoming a handicap. He is impressed by the way she copes year after year with her disability and gets on with life so well despite it. He is likely to idealize her. Helping her to cope satisfies a deep need in The Votary.
Helping with the legbrace can have sexual overtones. Physically assisting her when the brace is off is very sexual. So, in theory, the sexual chemistry has a double opportunity to work. Plus, there's her need of him and dependence on him, even though she doesn't want dependence. There's a sexual tension there, too.
Women who have had polio often do not feel sexually attractive, so she may be grateful to The Votary for his sexual interest.
Powerful, eh? Match made in Heaven.
Unfortunately, the literature says that a sexual relationship between The Votary and the object of his devotion is unlikely to end happily. It's not a meeting of two people - it's a condition with needs meeting a need with conditions. Either eventually she begins to suspect that he loves her condition more than he loves her, which would be painful to her, or she falls off the pedestal and he doesn't like what he sees, or her condition changes and he no longer gets the emotional reward that was the impetus and basis of his interest.
Unfortunately, by this time, the woman is dependent on The Votary, and he feels responsible for her care, and they are stuck with each other.
Yeah, I know someone that this might fit. My head went boing when I read the part about the child's family dynamics - it's exactly as he has described his feelings. That's what led me into reading the rest of the article. A few days ago I asked, and he confirmed that when he was seven, his parents made him visit and play with a family acquaintance of his own age, a little boy who'd had polio. (He disliked the kid.) I was floored.
It explains so many odd things he has said to me. It explains the strange almost hypnotic fascination he has for her, even though he knows there's something wrong with their relationship, something "missing". It explains his involvement with me.
(The literature says that Votaries have an unnatural ability to detect impairments anywhere in their vicinity. I often have an almost imperceptible limp, due to the dead nerves in my right ankle. Most people never notice. I wonder if that had anything to do with his initial attraction to me.)
Of course, he won't see the syndrome if it exists. He has to deny it even if it is so, if this is what's going on. If one could see it while one is in it, it would be too psychologically confusing. One could not fall into it so completely if one were aware that's what's going on. But at the same time, he knows there's something wrong. He has said he's confused.
And --- that's what's on my mind today.
I'll think about something else tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------------
I've been doing a lot of internet research on a medical matter for a friend. Along the way, I came across something interesting.
I found a syndrome in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) that got me thinking. I don't want to get specific as to what it's called, and I have to use different terms to describe it, because if you go look for it, most of what you'll find out there describes the extreme cases, and naturally, it can get pretty sensational. What I'm thinking about isn't sensational. Just interesting.
The syndrome has three levels. The case that interests me is mild, at the lowest of the three levels. There's a name for people at that lowest level. I've been trying to find a good alias, and I've decided to use "The Votary", a term that implies committment and devotion.
The way it starts, The Votary grows up in a family where there are high expectations and little affection expressed. He (it's 10 to 1 a male) feels early on that he isn't good enough, that he is a disappointment to his parents, that nothing he does meets their expectations. He craves his mother's attention and approval, he wants softness from her, but he doesn't get it. He feels inadequate.
Usually between 4 and 10 years of age, The Votary is made aware of someone who has been lamed by an illness or an accident, who uses a legbrace, wheelchair, prosthetic, or other assistance. (Most people with this syndrome are now in their 50s to 70s, and had friends or family members who contracted polio.) His parents admire and express for the impaired person the affection, admiration, and softness that he wants so badly for himself.
Sometimes the child is expected to care for and assist the impaired person, whether they want to or not. Sometimes the child wishes that he himself was impaired, so his parents would love and admire and care for him, too.
Most Votaries grow up to be sensitive, caring, thoughtful, and altruistic adults with a need to be in a loving relationship. They have a strong need to care for others. Caring for others is the highest goal. It brings them fulfillment. It makes them feel worthwhile. It might even bring them the approval they crave. (Approval from themselves? Their parents? Society? Their Diety? A justification for their life, the higher calling above personal happiness?)
They are extremely aware of and solicitous toward handicapped acquaintances, and, seeing someone limping or wearing legbraces might even cause a physiological response. This is the key definition of the lower level of the syndrome - the interest in the lameness, the fascination with the condition, the need to get close to it, to help.
That's general. Let's propose a specific instance:
Along comes a woman. A woman wearing a legbrace, suffering the pain and fatigue of Post-Polio Syndrome, let's say. An attractive recent divorcee, at the moment when The Votary is going through his own divorce. A woman who needs assistance. A Votary who needs emotional support.
There's something called the Polio Personality. People who have had polio tend to be "Type-A" personalities. A drive to succeed, to overcome, to achieve independence, a perfectionist. The diagnosis of PPS can be devastating to someone who has worked so hard all her life to be "normal" despite her handicap. She's in a hard place.
The Votary puts her on a pedestal and sees her as someone to be admired for her strength and courage in overcoming a handicap. He is impressed by the way she copes year after year with her disability and gets on with life so well despite it. He is likely to idealize her. Helping her to cope satisfies a deep need in The Votary.
Helping with the legbrace can have sexual overtones. Physically assisting her when the brace is off is very sexual. So, in theory, the sexual chemistry has a double opportunity to work. Plus, there's her need of him and dependence on him, even though she doesn't want dependence. There's a sexual tension there, too.
Women who have had polio often do not feel sexually attractive, so she may be grateful to The Votary for his sexual interest.
Powerful, eh? Match made in Heaven.
Unfortunately, the literature says that a sexual relationship between The Votary and the object of his devotion is unlikely to end happily. It's not a meeting of two people - it's a condition with needs meeting a need with conditions. Either eventually she begins to suspect that he loves her condition more than he loves her, which would be painful to her, or she falls off the pedestal and he doesn't like what he sees, or her condition changes and he no longer gets the emotional reward that was the impetus and basis of his interest.
Unfortunately, by this time, the woman is dependent on The Votary, and he feels responsible for her care, and they are stuck with each other.
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Yeah, I know someone that this might fit. My head went boing when I read the part about the child's family dynamics - it's exactly as he has described his feelings. That's what led me into reading the rest of the article. A few days ago I asked, and he confirmed that when he was seven, his parents made him visit and play with a family acquaintance of his own age, a little boy who'd had polio. (He disliked the kid.) I was floored.
It explains so many odd things he has said to me. It explains the strange almost hypnotic fascination he has for her, even though he knows there's something wrong with their relationship, something "missing". It explains his involvement with me.
(The literature says that Votaries have an unnatural ability to detect impairments anywhere in their vicinity. I often have an almost imperceptible limp, due to the dead nerves in my right ankle. Most people never notice. I wonder if that had anything to do with his initial attraction to me.)
Of course, he won't see the syndrome if it exists. He has to deny it even if it is so, if this is what's going on. If one could see it while one is in it, it would be too psychologically confusing. One could not fall into it so completely if one were aware that's what's going on. But at the same time, he knows there's something wrong. He has said he's confused.
And --- that's what's on my mind today.
I'll think about something else tomorrow.
Monday, July 03, 2006
775 Monday Moans
Jay always said that you shouldn't drink pure distilled water, because it would pull minerals out of your body. Is this true? Ordinary water doesn't?
I need to have the driveway retopped, the siding washed, and the deck replaced. After shooting the budget on a new roof this year, I thought I'd do all that next year. Then more things came up this year, but might have to wait for next year - I have decided I'm going to have to buy a regular car, and I need to get the side yard raked, graded, and seeded. But I do want to replace the computer this year, and get some kind of faster connection.
Today I admitted that I can't put off replacing the air conditioning any longer.
The current air conditioner is a 24-year-old heat pump. It pulls water from the well and blows air over it and then throughout the house. It's been getting gradually less and less efficient. In 2001 it was fine while there was only Jay and me in the house, but as soon as the nurse or health care assistant came to visit, the temperature shot up. Now it's not good enough even with just me here. By early evening it's 83 degrees, and that's with the attic fan going full blast and the air conditioning on constantly (set at 75). It's still cooler than the outside air during the day, but not by much. I don't want to open windows if I don't have to because of the humidity. (Roman gave me a sheet of white office paper, which I held in my hand while we were talking last Wednesday evening. By the time I got in the car, the paper was actually soggy. I had to iron it.)
I'm going to the Mensa World Gathering at Disney World next month. Ten days at the Coronado Springs Resort (7 days of gathering and three days to visit family and play tourist). I guess I'd better enjoy it. There won't be any more fancy vacations for a while.
I bought my plane tickets for the Gathering. Last time I flew, last summer to New Orleans, I decided that I would never again fly tourist class. The seats are too narrow for me to shift my hips, or to tuck my legs under me, and that gets painful. Plus there's something about the seat backs - they make me bend forward in the wrong places. It takes me three days of pain to recover. So I decided I wanted business class.
There's no business class to Orlando from any airport within two hours of here. I ended up with tickets from Newark, nonstop, first class. At three times the tourist class price. Incredible. They'd better treat me well.
Actually, I could have flown out of White Plains for slightly less, but they have very limited parking there, and I didn't want to take the chance on arriving for my flight and having no place to leave my car.
Would you believe it's cheaper to leave a car for ten days at airport parking, than to rent a car for a one-way trip to or from this area? It's all screwed up.
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I need to have the driveway retopped, the siding washed, and the deck replaced. After shooting the budget on a new roof this year, I thought I'd do all that next year. Then more things came up this year, but might have to wait for next year - I have decided I'm going to have to buy a regular car, and I need to get the side yard raked, graded, and seeded. But I do want to replace the computer this year, and get some kind of faster connection.
Today I admitted that I can't put off replacing the air conditioning any longer.
The current air conditioner is a 24-year-old heat pump. It pulls water from the well and blows air over it and then throughout the house. It's been getting gradually less and less efficient. In 2001 it was fine while there was only Jay and me in the house, but as soon as the nurse or health care assistant came to visit, the temperature shot up. Now it's not good enough even with just me here. By early evening it's 83 degrees, and that's with the attic fan going full blast and the air conditioning on constantly (set at 75). It's still cooler than the outside air during the day, but not by much. I don't want to open windows if I don't have to because of the humidity. (Roman gave me a sheet of white office paper, which I held in my hand while we were talking last Wednesday evening. By the time I got in the car, the paper was actually soggy. I had to iron it.)
I'm going to the Mensa World Gathering at Disney World next month. Ten days at the Coronado Springs Resort (7 days of gathering and three days to visit family and play tourist). I guess I'd better enjoy it. There won't be any more fancy vacations for a while.
---------------------------------------
I bought my plane tickets for the Gathering. Last time I flew, last summer to New Orleans, I decided that I would never again fly tourist class. The seats are too narrow for me to shift my hips, or to tuck my legs under me, and that gets painful. Plus there's something about the seat backs - they make me bend forward in the wrong places. It takes me three days of pain to recover. So I decided I wanted business class.
There's no business class to Orlando from any airport within two hours of here. I ended up with tickets from Newark, nonstop, first class. At three times the tourist class price. Incredible. They'd better treat me well.
Actually, I could have flown out of White Plains for slightly less, but they have very limited parking there, and I didn't want to take the chance on arriving for my flight and having no place to leave my car.
Would you believe it's cheaper to leave a car for ten days at airport parking, than to rent a car for a one-way trip to or from this area? It's all screwed up.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
774 My Hearing Is 100%! New Jersey Is Not.
Sunday, July 2, 2006I bought some new lightbulbs the other day. They're coiled fluorescent, came in a package of three, and are guaranteed to last 5 years.
I put one in the bedside lamp, and --- whoa! The color of the light is white with a pale icky green cast. Bleck! NOT flattering.
Worse, I can HEAR it! From halfway across the room! It makes a fuzzzzzz sound.
Jay always said he could hear fluorescent lights. He also said he could see the flicker. It's a common characteristic of autism. He hated fluorescent lights.
Great. I've got 15 years of lightbulbs I can't stand the sound of.
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The state of New Jersey closed yesterday.
Budget disagreements, deadline passed, so all state government offices (except critical services) are closed until further notice.
Daughter and Leading-Candidate-for-Son-In-Law (he's getting closer and closer to the wire) are supposed to get their marriage license on Friday. Apparently it's a big production, because they had to make an appointment, and they need two witnesses who have known them at least 100 years, and everybody, including the witnesses, needs fifty-seven varieties of identification.
This could be a problem.
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