Only The Light Things Float To The Top
The heavy stuff, that’s for another post (or maybe further down this one). I’m writing this from the old PowerBook G3 (Lombard, even!) partially because it has a better keyboard, partially because I’m sitting on the front stoop of our little rental house. Sure, the neighborhood has cleaned up considerably in the last five years, but not enough to sit out here and advertise to the world that there’s a new(ish) iBook on offer inside the place. There are some legitimately low-life individuals walking by here at times, although not as often as was once the case, I hear. No, I didn’t think those guys were really crying, sensitive new age guys. I knew those tears were tattoos fer crissakes. What do you take me for anyway? A rube? A dupe? A patsy?
Please.
I was wondering why those pretty ladies got dressed up to attend cocktail parties so early in the afternoon though. Just striving to be punctual, I guess. And they are walking to their parties after all.
By the way, did I mention that we’re moving? Yep, after a long month and half, we’re moving on at the request of our landlord (sounds so feudal when it’s put like that, doesn’t it?). He had originally imagined the house we’re renting to be an income property—and we haven’t disappointed—but there was a little surprise in his life that changed those plans. That little surprise is due to see the light of day in, oh, another couple months so we’re out. We knew that would be a possibility though, so nobody’s too shocked by the news. We haven’t really unpacked yet, so it’s better that we hear it now so we don’t get too settled in. Oh, that and the washing machine in the middle of the house that’s spewing out wash water as I write this. I’ll try to fix that later, but dammit, I’ve laundry to do now.
Between the leaks and the ants and the dried up lawn and the serious itty-bittiness of the place, I think moving is best. Besides, we’re working on a deal where we’d swap into the house that the landlord is renting a couple miles East of here. More house, more yard, more real rooms, for a hundred bucks more a month (and a twelve month lease). It sounds like the washing machine works too. I know, whee!
I have virtually nothing here though, so moving me will be easy. My roommates, on the other hand, despite paring down their collections of crap, have plenty of heavy things to trundle across town. It’ll be fun though. There’s serious entertaining potential at the new place. That and tree-lined streets and nice neighbors. I don’t have any pictures yet (sorry kids), but the new landlord has really worked to preserve the 1940 Art Moderne aesthetic designed into that place. Think streamliner. Think upscale tract home. Think bungalow. To give you an idea, he stripped paint to find the bottom layer and matched that. There are some serious “House Of The Future” features in that place. I think you’ll like it. I know I do.
Gearhead Alert!
So, the mighty Dodge Dakota has a nervous tic. Maybe more than a tic, it more closely resembles a tick, tick, tick.
It’s the last year of the first body style (best described as slabby like the old Rams before they got so proud of fenders) and has the Jeep 2.5 liter OHV four. On cold startup, the thing hesitates to start which I can’t fault it for—I’m not thrilled about getting up either—and ticks and chuffs like a blown exhaust gasket might be the cause. There are a couple more things that I think I should look at though. The EGR valve has been reported all over the Innernut to stick and might be the culprit. The other worry is that the previous owner abused the thing so bad that he burnt a valve (eek!) or stuck a lifter (not too terrible) or bent a rod (yikes!) or burnt the oil and clogged the pump (high oil pressure, don’t you know).
My question to you is what do you think I should look at first? Please post a comment in, well, the comments.
Wrap Up Alert!
Okay, I’m easing back into regular postings. Thanks for sticking with it.
You know, as things start to calm down…
Your best pal in the whole wide world,
– bob