R.I.P. Aunt Carol
Just a quick update. My aunt passed away yesterday afternoon. No details, and I just heard about it today.
More later (when I know something),
– bob
Night Of The Dashed-Off Note
Dearest Pals,
Just a quick update on my whereabouts for the next week or so. I’m going to go to Chicago next weekend to catch up and take in the Midwestern sights. Sure, there’ll be big Barbie party time with the nieces, but there are also cars to scope out, goony AMC ephemera, and other goodness to take in.
It even looks like Mud Season is officially over there, so I can bring shorter than long underwear to the festivities. Still bringing the gloves though.
And boots.
And wool socks.
You know, just in case.
I’m also taking custody of certain pups for a month after I return. You know, from somebody else who has them most of the time but is taking off for a holiday to Islamistbombingtown on an island in the Indian ocean. I’ve already wished her all the best, but what can you say? Australians were blown up in a nightclub there a couple of years ago, so you can’t help but worry. She’s a big girl though, right?
So me and Mr. and Mrs. Pup of the Dum-Dum Team are going to have some quality time together for a while. I installed a fancy dog door so they’ll have full in/out privileges. They should want for nothing as long as they have water, food, and a full supply of squirrels to chase. I just hope they don’t hurt themselves on my watch since the emergency vet is fifty miles away. Keep your fingers (and whatever else is handy) crossed.
Your pal,
bob
Day Of The Momentum Killer
Oh sure, going to work is just going to work. Right?
If that was the case, I’m sure I’d go completely insane. I prefer a little dash of sport sprinkled on my daily tedium, so I go faster than I should down the hill to work. That tiny bit of fun was stifled by somebody who may be a celebrity. I don’t know for sure, but it’s clear that he was likely watching Oook Oook II on the in-dash DVD player rather than, you know, DRIVING.
Here’s what I know:
- Early ’90s Mercedes S 500 coupe, black
- California license plate “MVP 75”
- USC Alumni license plate frame
- Slower than hell
So, anybody know who was piloting that trainwreck? Speculate in the Comments section. Here’s my first stab at wild speculation: maybe this person was a star at USC, but didn’t have great grades in other areas, like reading the “Slower Traffic Use Turnouts” signs. Or reading wasn’t a requirement back then…
Your pal,
bob
Night Of The Jealous Mechanic
Friends,
There are folks who suggest that I should get moving with my little house projects. They’re right, considering that the weather is taking a turn towards warm, but after reading about Coop’s glorious weekend and Mr. Jalopy’s new-ish endeavor at Hooptyrides, Inc. my attention turns towards the garage.
It’d be nice to have a real shop set up to get real stuff done. I mean, what if I could actually fabricate the new kitchen counter or trim the new beadboard just so, on purpose? Without having to move out a car or drag equipment out into the driveway? Could my musty, crap-filled space turn into a place where I wouldn’t mind spending significant periods of time fashioning just the right pieces for The Lodge? Is it even possible considering the damp, the critters, the significant level of junk?
Maybe yes!
Perhaps.
if a miracle occurs.
– bob
Night Of The Momentum Killer
Kids,
To the terrible monsters, meth addicts, or emasculated monkey wet nurse fanboys from Nevada who were driving in the PT Cruiser up the Hill this afternoon: die. It’s that simple. Die you bastards, die.
They’ve joined, without even knowing it, the Anti-Destination League by shucking (without actually jiving) their idiot way up the twisty road to my little alpine chalet. For that, I continue with my call for their demise. Real soon too, I hope.
Please fall off a road. Please catch on fire. Stroke. Heart attack. I don’t care.
Your vengeful pal,
bob
The Choices We Make
Friends,
Back during my High School days, my Dad presented me with a choice that would be life-defining: “there’s a ’79 Chevy El Camino for sale from a guy I know for cheap, it’s got a little V8 and runs okay for a thousand bucks, or from another guy a ’74 Ford Courier that blew a head gasket. 
He started taking the motor apart and most of it’s in the bed. He only wants five hundred for it though…”
Those were my transportation options presented in, what, 1982? I was friendly with the El Camino/Ranchero owners at school. Mullets, mysongeny, and Milwaukee’s Best were the rule with that crowd. Fashioning myself as some sort of thoughtful intellectual, the baggage with the “pickup-car” wouldn’t really fit the image I was working on. I ended up, happily, with the broken Ford-badged Mazda B1800. 
Dad and I spent a bunch of happy afternoons putting that thing back together which led to thousands and thousands of miles of trouble free teenage vehicular idiocy (until the head cracked and stranded me outside an insane asylum, but that’s another story).
But you know how you get a song stuck in your head? Even songs you hate? That’s what this Jalopnik.com El Camino thread sounds like to me. It’s grimly fascinating when you realize how many people have succumbed to the urge to turn a car into a pickup.
Call me old school, but I like my pickups to start as pickups. And in pieces.
Your pal,
– bob
R.I.P. Buck Owens
Aw Geez.
Buck Owens died this morning at his home in Bakersfield. I really liked the guy on Hee Haw. After all, that was our weekend ritual when we were growing up. Corny jokes, great musicianship, girls in not too many clothes (before Daisy Duke even thought of her now eponymous short shorts). There was something for everybody there.
He was the straight man to Roy Clark’s larger personality. It was hard to figure out which one was the greater talent. There seemed to be a competition, unmentioned, going on there, but I found out much later that both of them were giants.
And now that I’m doing the tiniest bit of research for this post I’ve found that Buck had a huge empire of media holdings, a restaurant/cabaret in Bakersfield, and had something of a resurgence in the 80s. Here’s a truncated video clip from Buck’s own site (sorry for the Real Media link, but that video was the cleanest) of his duet with Dwight Yokum from 1986. It holds up nicely, I think. (wonder if it’s on iTunes?)
The man was the go-to guy for West Coast Country and cripes! he played to a packed house last night! Jeebus Jumpin’ Jehosephat! That’s commitment.
“Gloom, Despair, and Agony?” I hope not. Rather my prayers to Buck’s family and friends in their loss, and ours too.
– bob
Everything In Moderation
Hey Typists!
You may have noticed that when you try and leave a comment it isn’t published right away, waiting for me to vet your sparkling retorts. “What a pain!” I hear you shout to the heavens. “Instant gratification!” you demand.
Heck, I don’t blame you. The troll problem was getting out of hand though, so I had to do something. I could’ve just turned comments off, but that’s even less fun (for me, anyway).
Thanks for dealing with the inevitable delays.
Your pal,
bob
Snowstorm: 2006! – PowerShot Purge Edition
I took a bunch of pictures of snow. I even wrote something about little kids and snow in this post. What I failed to share was my now favorite picture from the whole adventure. You’ve got to love this:
It’s got everything, doesn’t it?
More in a bit.
Your pal,
bob
The Benefits Package
Friends,
I’ve been thinking recently about why on Earth I’d want to drive an hour and a quarter each way to work each day. What about it, besides the paycheck, that compels me to leave my alpine paradise for the grit and traffic of the Coachella Valley. It’s certainly not a moral imperative for me to help the help the homeless. “To Serve Man” was a cookbook, after all.
It’s not the bubbly personalities at my little I.T. fiefdom. After all, it’s not hard to imagine that they put up with my nonsense and present a half-smile only because they might want some new piece of equipment at some point. It’s certainly not that I’m appreciated—I don’t get that vibe whatsoever.
The only thing (on top of the paycheck, which isn’t supporting the fuel bills) that I’m getting out of the whole thing is, sadly, seasonal. It’s cold up here, but it’s warm down there. I get the chance to thaw out during the day.
That’s it. No real job satisfaction to speak of. I do what I do, unchallenged, unprovoked. Standard-issue office politics abound. There are cheerful and chirpy newcomers who might as well have “throw me to the wolves” tattooed on their foreheads. Jaded old-timers, keen to point out how everything sucks. Tweeners who think they can buck the system and change the world. I don’t swirl in any of those circles.
The closest I come is by being able to deal with the management there. There’s a weird deal going on at San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization’s Far Eastern Outpost. They feel like second class citizens, which isn’t too surprising considering they’re an outpost, but they have a certain reverence for refugees from the mothership, like myself. Maybe reverence isn’t the right word. Trepidation might be better. I might be a spy for the “home office” for all they know.
Being the weird outsider (insider), I’m given a wide berth. One of the thoughts I had about working there was to interrupt the self-imposed isolation of mountain living. To mix it up all week with actual people. Despite the +40 degree temperature change between there and here, I’m really not feeling the warmth.
So what next?
Your pal,
bob
Snowstorm: 2006! – Boring Anticlimax Edition
Hey Thrillseekers!
Nothing much to report anymore. The snow is on the ground. The sky is tapped out for the moment. The families driving up from Hemet (who can blame them?) to have their little frolic are fewer and further between.
Frankly, it’s over people, move along now. Nothing to see here.
There are still some snaps trapped in the camera, but those might have to wait for a Christmas card or something. The roads aren’t even very treacherous anymore. What’s the fun in that?
I do have work tidbits to share, but that will have to wait too. Tomorrow sounds like a good time for that.
Doesn’t it?
Your pal,
bob
Snowstorm: 2006! – Eureka! Edition
Hey Little Dudes,
Remember this shot?
By the time I left for work down in the desert this morning, the snow pile on the roof of the Jeep Grand Livingroom had hardly diminished from what you see here. On the way down the hill, I was waging a fantastically entertaining snowball fight with tailgaters. In that, I won!
Down at sea level, I still had over a foot of snow remaining on the roof. I got startled looks from the denizens of the date groves, but it still seemed like an opportunity wasted.
Then I saw her. The program manager for Children’s Services at San Diego’s Omnipresent Charitable Organization’s Far Eastern Outpost was signing in for the morning. There was the answer: little kids. Little homeless kids! In the desert! Perfect.
“Would your kids like to play in the snow today?” “Um, why do you ask?” “I brought a lot with me and they might have a lot of fun with it.” “Oh, that’s your car…”
We filled two huge trash bags (with a bunch left over) and she built a giant pile on the lawn in the playground. Then, my friends, the grand snowball fight began. I stopped by after the fight ended and the kids where painting the snow (primary colors save yellow, I presume).
All goodness, and a good use of fluffy frozen rain, don’t you think?
I think so.
Your pal,
bob
Snowstorm: 2006! – P.T. Barnum Edition
Howdy Ecotourists,
Oops. Forgot to post yesterday’s pictures…
…and I might as well throw in today’s better shots too.
So to answer the query entered into the Goog’ by a recent visitor to this shambles, “Yes Virginia, it did snow in Idyllwild.”
Your pal,
bob
Snowstorm: 2006! – Whump! Edition
Hey half pipe hooligans!
The temps have soared to almost forty degrees (twenty eight degree difference in seven hours?) so the snow is melting. Notably, the larger clumps of snow in the trees are losing their grip on branches. Whump! times a million.
It’s been “raining” all afternoon, which along with the sudden warming trend, has made the town into a sloppy, slushy mess. People who live in the Midwest and Northeast call March “mud season.” The inevitable result of snow melt-off constantly plowed and churned into a nearly frozen black morass. In Southern California though, we’re in a hurry! Only next-day melting will do, thank you very much.
Your best pal ever,
bob
Consequences – UPDATED!
Got a call from somebody (which somebody? THAT somebody? -ed Yeah, that one. – Bob) that a certain dopey dog had done a particularly stupid dog thing and is now paying for it. The scenario as I understand it is simple enough; a roasted chicken carcass was placed in the trash, minor distraction leaves trashcan unsupervised, opportunist dog takes advantage of free treat and scarfs up leavings. “Inhales” may be more apt.
Now that particular dog is undergoing tests at the emergency animal hospital to see what part of his digestive tract is bleeding. Fractured chicken bones can be very sharp, but the dog didn’t get the memo.
He’s done astoundingly stupid things before, like devouring a five pound box of chocolates (certain death for all dogs but him, apparently). He as eaten plastic irrigation pipes, books, and a wedding album (that you were married at all is more disturbing to me. – ed Oh, thanks for that. – Bob).
I’m sure he found the scraps delicious, and if he survives this episode (which is not certain) he won’t learn a thing at all from the experience. I know that I’ve learned to be extra diligent in protecting him from himself but it can’t be easy. His magnetic north points to trouble and mischief and there’s not much to be done about that.
Here’s to hoping our furry kook gets better soon. Poor little guy.
Your pal,
bob
UPDATE: Good news? Sounds like it:
[snip]
The X-rays last night showed no perforations or blockage, no bones. He evidently developed Hemorrhagic Gastroenteritis (HGE) I transferred him this morning from the Emergency Hosp. to [the local vet], where he’s being watched and given fluids. Hopefully I will be able to pick him up this afternoon. Emergency had to administer Vitamin K, due to blood clotting problems, and he had an allergic reaction to that—hives—making his face all puffy. So they gave him an analgesic, which made him a little dopey. (So what’s new, right?) But other than that, he’s okay for now.
[/snip]