Author: bob

Breakdown Mountain.

Welcome Race Fans,

The drive down the hill from the Lodge to San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization’s Far East Outpost (dude, you’ve gotta think of a shorter name for your new gig. – ed I know! The carpal-tunnel is kicking in already! – bob) this morning was icy, but easy. No traffic. No worries. I only hit the brakes to settle the chassis of the Grand Livingroom down on the tight corners. The broad sweepers just begged for throttle-on oversteer. Lift off, settle, back on with a chirp, a forward lean, and power out. Repeat eighty times or so and you’re down in the valley.

The drive back up this afternoon was something else entirely. Not 1,500 feet up, just past the broad turn out and former glider port called Vista Point, there she sat. Just there around the blind left, cramped against the rocks but still fully in the narrow lane, sat a terrified woman belted up in her late 80s Volvo wagon. I caught her wide and panicked eyes in the Volvo’s rearview mirror as she seemed to anticipate her imminent demise. Her hazard lights were flashing, but she was situated in a terrible place and she was terrified, awaiting her terrible fate.

My fellow travelers weren’t so willing to allow a canned tuna impression to occur. Some were on the call box, some were turning around to wave off other traffic coming up the hill. Others still weren’t going to wait for the constabulary and had their rigging ready to hook up quickly and move the poor woman out from under the dark hand of certain doom.

I made my terribly sloppy maneuver around the dead Volvo and stopped at the next turnout to ask if I could help. The older couple at the call box thought they had it handled and I left it at that.

Did she know the car was dodgy before she started her trek? Who can say? Could she have backed down to find a safer spot to stop? Not a chance. She was in a blind corner, terrified, and who can say that the car could even roll? Might the rear axle have been seized? No leaks or smoke that I could see, but I didn’t spend a lot of time looking. You know, driving, not hitting oncoming traffic, not hitting stalled car, not being blinded by afternoon sun. Yeah, that.

I lived, and as far as I know she did too.

Oh, but you wanted a moral. A life lesson. Some sort of executive take-away.

Fine. Don’t kill people with your car, even if they’ve broken down in the only lane you’re allowed and you haven’t a clue they’re there around the next blind corner. It’s kinda deep if you think about it.

Your pal,

bob

UPDATE: Um, nothing to report yet on my aunt’s condition. Not much of an update except it’s something. Thanks again for reading the junk above to get to this bit. I’m just wasting time until I can post something substantive. Anything.

Not Funny.

My aunt finally went in for her exploratory surgery today and they found what sounds to be the worst possible things. You see, the scans had revealed a cranial tumor so her doctors wanted to look and see what type. Cut a hole, take a peek, and see what you find. They found malignancy.

What’s surprising about this is that she appeared to be fine at Christmas. Since then, she has steadily, and rapidly, lost control of her limbs. Commands to move not recognized, dropping things, falls, the whole deal.

From the news I just received it not only sounds very involved in key areas of her brain, but they also think it started someplace else. Oh yeah, she had some sort of “heart problem” while on the table as well. The full results of the tests won’t be back until Friday, naturally, so we have the rest of the week to freak out. Don’t worry though, we can freak out with the best of them. We’ll wait for one of her doctors to say something encouraging and latch on to that, then we’ll hear something dire and gnaw on that for a bit.

It’s advanced, it’s malignant, and we’re still holding out hope that some gizmo can help. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Your pal,

bob

Gee, Couldn’t Get Carrot Top?

I was ticked, so I wrote a letter to the Idyllwild Town Crier [note: headline is not mine but undermines, doesn’t it?]:

Late-night cafe band disturbs neighbor

Dear Editor,

Much has been written in the pages of the Town Crier of the noise pollution problems arising from business activities on the hill. It seems that efforts are progressing to address the issue through legal means but we had hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that.

The lack of common sense exhibited by the proprietors of Cafe Aroma on the evening of Saturday, February 18th however, defies even the most basic logic. An outdoor, high-decibel rock show held on the night of the first significant snowfall of 2006 was astounding to me. It was loud, sure, but was there even an audience outside when the temperatures were dipping below 25 degrees? Was it rather an exercise in tweaking the sensibilities of Aroma’s neighbors who wrongly hoped to sleep at 11:30? Was it simply a last hurrah before the county approves a sound ordinance for unincorporated communities that allow us to finally call the sheriff and have them shut down?

I understand that live outdoor entertainment is keeping a number of establishments afloat during tough economic times. It’s a draw, a hook. We want each of these businesses to succeed and prosper. They’re our neighbors and friends, after all.

I hope they think as kindly of us when the noise citations start rolling in.

Bob Therieau
Idyllwild

[I originally wrote “Your pal, Bob Therieau…” but the pal part was removed by the paper. Why!}

In the interest of fairness, the editor of local paper asked the proprietor of my ire to rebut. Here’s the owner of Cafe Aroma missing the point [which I’ll transcribe verbatim from the paper published today for your dining and dancing pleasure]:

Apologies for disturbing sleep

Editor:
The happening at Aroma on Saturday evening was a one-of-a-kind event. I am very sorry to hear that some of our dear neighbors were annoyed by the music. (For noise complaints, call 659-5212.)
That party was attended by more than 30 off-the-Hill folk, among them the legendary saxophonist Dave Koz. All of those guests spent two or three days in Idyllwild to the delight of our merchants, innkeepers and restaurant owners.
Cafe Aroma has received a lot of attention from the world at large (Los Angeles Times, New York Times, etc.) and we are pleased to attract music lovers from afar.
Our visitors were a hardy bunch who joined the locals in an energetic dance to celebrate the arrival of the first real snow of the year.
Once again, I apologize for disturbing the sleep of our neighbors.

Hubert Halkin
Owner, Cafe Aroma

Was it really about sleep? Well, yeah. It was more about dumbness, actually. They knew that the county was working on a noise ordinance. Wouldn’t you think that they’d be a little more conservative prior to the vote? Have they gone mad? Bad poker players too, I suspect.

Your best pal in the whole wide world,

bob

Now That’s A Proper Snowfall

Not much commentary required, just some more pics from a very rare Southern California winter storm (’bout time!). The fire’s raging in the stove, the dogs are sacked out, and the snow continues to lightly fall. It doesn’t get much better than that, does it?

Your pal,

bob

Okay, So You’re A Dog

You’re a dog and you have to relieve yourself. Fine, just go out the dog door and take care of business. What if there’s no door you can open yourself (no opposable thumbs! dammit!)? Just alert your person that you have to go.

Naturally, your person finds it in his best interest to heed these warnings lest property damage ensue. Your person opens the door to your relief, but what do you find? Gah! Cold, crunchy rain!

How are you supposed to, er, get things done when it’s simply too damn cold outside?

Well, you can stare at the door for a while, hoping the cold will go away. Maybe you can hold it for a little while longer…

…or you can try to sleep it off…

…or just wait until you can go home.

More later (not from a dog).

Your pal,

bob

Go. Lay. Down.

Sleepyheads,

I have the pups with me at the ‘Lodge this weekend, which is fine and could be fun. It could be if they hadn’t decided to have a little come-apart at 3:00 this morning. Pacing, panting, scratching at my cushy soft leather sofa to make it, I dunno, softer?

Nothing I could offer them helped. They didn’t need to relieve themselves. Not hungry, not thirsty. And get this, they wouldn’t even calm down after I relented and let them sleep in my very own bed (they’re blanket hogs, by the way).

I finally gave up at ten after four. Might as well get ready for work, since I was far too ticked off to sleep. I arrived at six and was bombarded with requests for my time. There’s a story about why that was the case, but I’ll have to write it later.

As for now, I hope the dog’s water bowl has finally thawed. Twenty degrees will do that, you know.

Your pal,

bob

Forty Years Ago

That’s a long time!

Thanks for all of the glad tidings on this, the first day of the rest of my first life. Maybe I’ll get it right the next time.

Your best pal,

bob

POTUS y VPOTUS

Critters!

“Before history is written in books, it’s written in courage.” That statement in itself was courageous! Don’t you think?

What, no? Yeah, I was bored too.

I spent a good portion of the time (re)subscribing to KCRW while listening to the President (it’s still amazing to me to think that whatshischimp is the leader of the free world) prattle on. It seemed like a good use of my time and a hundred bucks as sort of a response to the nutter in chief. Heck, I even got five CDs out of the deal. Ain’t station premiums grand?

So what did we get out of the speech? Terror, lots of new jobs (shhh! don’t tell Ford or GM), privacy invasions prevent terror, terror, Medicare drug program is working just fine, terror, courage, sacrifice, our 800-lb economic gorilla will take on India and China (India? Who knew? Greenspan?), and of course terror. Oh yeah, God bless America.

Or Alllah, or Jah, or the spirit people, or whomever we don’t wish to offend today (like those pesky Dutch? – ed Yeah, cartoons are real bad! I propose that Congress approve legislation to send all Dutch cartoonists to the Switch Grass field! – bob)

Wow, that was high and inside, wasn’t it?

Your (ever older) pal,

bob

Hoax?

My Birthday Holiday Season has started with a whimper this year, which is a little disconcerting considering that it celebrates an even four decades of people being annoyed by my presence. A little depressing too. I’ve countered that at the moment with Love Shack playing in a loop at, once again, annoying levels. Who doesn’t love a Chrysler as big as a whale, after all?

My sister has begged off whatever celebration might have occurred to be at work the next day. I’m of two minds about this. Really working? A hoax to engender surprise when she shows up unannounced at some unplanned, “sorry it didn’t work out” consolation dinner?

I’m not buying any of it (proposing a “third way?” that’s just weird. – ed). We’ll just have to see, won’t we?

Your pal,

bob

Newbie

My charming writing partner has emerged from her hiatus to send this story:

Corner store, paying for purchase when young girl from pizza joint next door walks in with an empty pail. “I need a bucket of steam, they told me you had some over here…”

Poor new kid. She didn’t even think through the uses for a bucket of steam at a pizza parlor. At least when we harassed the new guys at the picture framing shop we would at least think of something halfway plausible. Cut the glass too short? The Glass Stretcher is in one of those boxes in the storage closet. Need to put together a frame cut from German moulding? You’ll need the metric nail gun. It’s in one of those boxes in the storage closet too.

Mechanics and builders have asked the new guy to find a left-handed hammer/wrench/screwdriver since the origin of harassment. You’ve busted the new guy’s chops. Comments, please.

Your pal,

bob

Deets On All ‘Dat

Hey there, Kooks!

You’ve asked for more words about things and Great Jumpin’ Jehosephat, I can deliver! The big question left dangling from a couple days ago was what the big meeting with the boss’ boss might be about. My boss is getting his review (“do you feel that you play well with others?”) and each of Mr. Boss’ charges are to be interviewed. I’m sure that it’ll be such an easy-breezy session that we’ll all let our guard down and dish on the boss. I’m also sure that might be as close to a career-limiting move as getting completely pissed at the company picnic. So, um, no.

That said, it’d sure be neat to have something close to a frank and open chat about, the, er, difficulties. No, I’m not going to post the laundry list here, just a characterization: my coconspirators and I have managed to extend the three second rule for bacon dropped on the lint-riddled kitchen floor of failure and firing to well over ten seconds! Practically Herculean, don’t you think?

Yeah, I know. That’s what we’re supposed to do, but still…

Oh, you wanted something else? Like, perhaps, the advent of my Birthday Holiday Season? Celebrating something of a roundish number maybe?

Well…

– bob

I Had No Idea!

Cats with fruit helmets. Just go…

Your pal,

bob

(courtesy Boing Boing, of course)

Shimmy!

Friends,

The Santa Ana winds are rolling through my neck of the woods. Yeah, real woods. The interesting thing to note is that there’s a giant pine tree growing up through my deck and leaning on my house. Despite the tree’s hugeness it’s still swinging and swaying in these breezes. I guess if you were ninety feet tall you might sway a little bit too but it’s still disconcerting. A giant tree is smacking against my little house after all.

Just don’t tell my insurance agent. Okay?

I’ve spent the day doing insignificant chores and mulling over my decision to take on San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization’s far Eastern outpost. Sure, I signed the papers, but what does that mean to everybody back in that little backwater called America’s Finest Just Okay City? Maybe nothing!

Having struck a deal with Mr. Boss about how my time will be spent, I’ll be there as much as I am here. It’ll be like changing labels without actually changing jobs or responsibilities. What’d I get out of it? Nothing whatsoever, but that may change.*

More on the site and the blog and the job later…

Your pal,

bob

* A meeting with Mr. Boss’ boss this week should be interesting—and potentially rewarding. We’ll see…

Snow Day!

Kids!

There’s snow here! The first real snow of the year fell on The Damp Dog Lodge yesterday and I missed it.

I’m not complaining. It has to be cold for snow to fall and stick, and I’m not fully acclimatized to that just yet. Besides, the L.A. Auto Show beckoned. That and my sister’s invitation to check out her nearly completely renovated house…

Extra dumbness kept me from taking happy snaps of the place to show off her work. I figured, “they have a lot of pictures of the progression, why should I duplicate their effort?” Why? Because I don’t have copies here to share with y’all.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Okay, I’ll just paint a word picture (oh, here we go… – ed). Think turn-of-the-century Victorian sanitary combined with mid-century angular and a heaping helping of neo-futurist/deconstructed streamliner cum Popular Science chic. Becoming clear now? What, no? I guess you’ll have to wait for the pictures then.

The auto show was everything you’d expect, or nearly everything. Not a lot of “booth bettys” but rather, professional exhibition assistants who highlighted product features from slowly rotating podiums straight from their respective scripts: “…and that signature, bold crosshair grille? That’s all Dodge…” “Just look at that distinctive grille, like a shark, that practically screams Camaro…” “This concept completes the picture with Jeep’s legendary signature seven slot grille…” etc. ad infinitum. Whoopee. Just build them and get back to us in 2008, okay? Fine. Agreed.

Dinner on Olvera Street, back to the house for a little sitting around and catching up. We all decided to turn in early (who knew that a car show could take so much out of you, or was it that such a big meal laid us low?). I got the couch which is fully a foot and a half shorter than I am. Eighteen inches. Friends, I’m far too young to have developed a Dowager’s Hump, but there it is. I’m slouched over like your Grandma and I can’t get up. I’ll bring the air mattress on the next trip, and there’ll certainly be another.

Why? Because their Highland Park environs have a lot to offer for anybody who’s looking for renovation ideas. Riding around, you can see everything from perfectly restored bungalows, to businesses with gold lions on the roof, to people hanging their underwear to dry on the security bars on their front windows. Architecture from Googie to Google (you knew that was coming) is there, often next door to each other.

I’m sure there’s something I’ve missed, like the ice on the road home, or the scene at the Chevron in Banning, but that’ll have to wait (or be ignored) for another time. Good night.

Your pal,

bob

Bang! Thump. Thump. Thump.

Pals,

I’m moving bobtherieau.com to a new server so the pictures and the header aren’t working at the moment. I seem to have also become ill, so I’m pretty cranky. I also presided over the death of an old Mac G4 server at work before I could migrate their data to a Windows file server (I know, I know). The post-mortem crucifixion meeting—I’m bringing my own nails!—is on Wednesday.

Hopefully, even if they fire me I’ll be able to cough on the participants and share a little of the microbial love that’s been bestowed on me. It’s the gift that keeps on giving!

More hilarious emergency data recovery posting tomorrow…

Your pal,

bob