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
Update While You Work!
Dudes,
Remember the thing about the rain? There were freezing temps to go along with that so when I went out this morning to embark on my commute the Jeep’s doors were frozen shut. A liberal dousing of washer fluid from a jug I had laying around loosened the door handles. A solid yank unstuck the doors themselves.
The previous owners of the Lodge left a handy ice scraper that did the business on the windshield. Unsticking the wipers would have been a real good idea if I had thought about it before taking off down the hill…
This is Southern-freakin’ California. Only a couple miles as that omnipresent crow flies from the desert. Ice. Desert. Wha?
More later,
bob
2005? Bah! Pooh! Part Two!
Hey Old Timers,
It’s raining up here on The Hill. I’d like to think that 2005 is getting washed away. I’d also like to think that the knuckleheads who were thinking of lighting off fireworks tonight in order to burn down the forest (or, what, celebrate the new year? i’m supposed to be the cranky one around here. – ed) will think twice. They might get wet! They might even shrink!
Radio: I’ve decided for the time being to eschew cable TV, so I’ve been listening to a lot of radio. Reception is pretty poor up here—even for WNKI which is the only station that actually broadcasts locally—so I’ve been on something of a quest for a better signal. Streaming radio from that ol’ Innernut? Sure, that works fine for the stereo in the Lodge. I could subscribe to podcasts and carry day-old radio shows around with me. The iBook’s drive is filling up with them though. Then Christmas came and with it a new Sirius satellite radio tuner with connectors for the house and the car.
It’s a little like the college radio stations that only broadcast over the local cable TV system on channels in the hundreds. You always knew that there was a wealth of programming out there, but you never got around to actually tuning it in. Sirius seems to be a little like that. They have deejays who seem plundered from the ranks of voice talent who were barking about giant used car tent sales just last week. They’ve also obtained the services of minor (whew, real minor. Mojo Nixon?) celebrities to host higher profile music shows, thrown in some Martha Stewart nonsense, and then there’s Stern. I sure hope they didn’t think that Howard was the reason for my subscription. I simply grew tired of switching between four NPR affiliates during my commute to listen to the same program. Fairly dangerous business on the switchbacks, don’t you think?
I’m still switching channels on Sirius, but now I’m just trying to take it all in. All in a crystal clear signal carrying, well, nearly everything.
Vegetarianism: My grandmother used to ask, particularly at holidays, “when are you going to quit that diet of yours?” Not quitting. I might quit using the sauce I put on the pasta this evening. It’s involved in an epic struggle with my innards and I’m losing. It’d also be nice to quit all the other detrimental behaviors too. I’ll get right on that.
Politics: I don’t know what your problem is with covert spying and warrant-less surveillance. I spy on you guys all the time (hey! I saw that! yeah, sticking your tongue out at the screen is like so mature). Geez, lighten up. We’re at war, right?
Okay, fine. Maybe we should just indict everybody in government and start over. Term limits are working just great after all.
2006: The new year! Like, tomorrow! I hope your new year is much better than 2005. I know, I know… not hope, do.
Thanks for sticking around all year.
Your pal,
bob
2005? Bah! Pooh! Get Out, You!
Friends,
Since everybody on Jah’s everlovin’ earth is making a list, I thought I’d make one for myself. Some good things, some bad, some you’ll have to decide for yourselves. Okay, you’ll have to decide all of them for yourselves since I can’t seem to make up my mind about them one way or the other. To wit:
The Damp Dog Lodge: I’ve made only the slightest progress on repairs and upgrades over the last few months. The last big push was to accommodate the throngs visiting over the Fourth of July weekend and we all know how that went.
Since then I’ve done virtually nothing but small fixes and tweaks. New doors are coming though, so I’ll be able to further segment the living spaces to manage the heating of the joint. That’s going to be a big deal in the next couple of months I figure, so they can’t come soon enough.
The Tenants: Yep. The acquaintance of the neighbor of my Dad is working on a house nearby the Lodge, so I’m affording him and his crew a place to stay. For a price. People tell me that the price isn’t nearly high enough, but what the hell. It’s more like a favor, and besides, he might be able to help me repair this mess (correctly, this time). He’s asked his HVAC guy, for instance, to stop by here and rewire my forced air unit (central heat, to the rest of us) to keep it from shutting off at the most inopportune times (like when it’s cold outside). Enlightened self-interest on his part? Maybe, but I’ll take it.
The Workplace: Not digging that scene, man. The choices that have been laid out before me are abundant and abundantly bad. Full time here, full time there. Take it or leave it. I’d like to stake out a middle ground (don’t you always? i mean, crap! mister wishy-washy for the love of pete! – ed Thanks for showing up to the party. BTW, who’s Pete? – bob). For the new year I think my new plan is one that everybody should find acceptable. Ready? I call it “I.T. Staff At Large,” going where I’m needed and during slow times working on projects from my home. I get paid a flat rate (you may recall something I wrote a long time ago about how flat-raters rule and why. This is the same kind of deal.) It’s ideal for me but I don’t know if the middle management can wrap their heads around it, fully embrace the concept, and give it a big kiss on the forehead. I suspect not, but it wouldn’t be the first time I didn’t get what I wanted, would it?
Les Voitures: This year my Dad gave me a car. Gave. No strings. No kidding. The Mighty Dakota may not be much to look at, but it gets pretty good gas mileage, hauls stuff, is pretty fun to drive, and hasn’t let me down once. Free, people. How magnanimous is that?
The Grand Livingroom is what it is. It runs, it has all-wheel drive and comfy seats, it has plenty of torque to get up the Hill. What it doesn’t have after all this driving is a continuous and uninterrupted paint job. The sway on the corners is fairly disconcerting too, but hey, all wheel drive! Snow? Anybody? Hello?
The Mighty Jeepster however, is another matter. I think it’s pretty clear that the timing chain on the 258 c.i. straight six wants out when I hear its terrible graunch at idle. Out of the the cover. Out of the engine compartment. Just plain out. That’ll be fun to fix, no?
Yes!
More end of the year business tomorrow (the real tomorrow, not the 48 hour tomorrow, like yesterday). Maybe we’ll even cover the redesign of this site and the bobtherieau.com mothership. We can only hope.
Your best pal ever (not kidding),
bob
It Seemed To Take The Edge Off Some
Dudes,
Sure, holidays, blah blah. Frankly, I just haven’t been able to think of anything interesting to say lately. Interesting things have been happening, I just can’t seem to figure out an interesting way to lay them out here. I’ve started a couple posts and found that I was boring myself. Good lord!
My tenants have toddled off to bed now (“tenants?” wha? – ed Oh, more on that tomorrow. – bob) so I can finish this tiny little tidbit off for the evening. Or at least I could if it wasn’t for this balky Apple Pro Keyboard. It’s sticky and cranky and forcing me to correct every other word. Sure, I’m tired, but not that tired. I blame the keyboard!
Tomorrow, kids. Tomorrow.
Your pal,
bob
The More Things Change, The More They Become Different…
Dear Friends of the Friendless,
Still traveling, still in multiple places at what seems like the same time. I’ve been having fun with some people who are also making the trek from America’s Finest Just Okay City to the Hub Of The Valley and believe that they just saw me in San Diego before they left. “How could you be here? Weren’t you just… Um… Nice to see you! Are you working here now?”
That’s the question, isn’t it? Not just from me but from nearly everybody I come in contact with. My coconspirators in the department treat my departure as a forgone conclusion. Friends elsewhere in the organization for whom I’ve done satisfactory work would rather I not leave.
It’d sure be neat if I could make a definitive decision. (I almost commented on how that might be the reason why I’m not in management, but, well, you know… It’s funny! Just laugh and move on.) Kinda hoping that it would take care of itself but that’s not happening either.
All I know is that the year will end without anything substantive happening on that front. That’s almost two weeks away in case you aren’t counting.
I’m counting though and just started Christmas shopping today. Book store, gizmo store, general store, and I’ve only found things for two people on my list. Two! Better get busy (and paid), eh?
A visit to the folks is long overdue, and while they’re hosting the festivities next weekend, I think I’ll drop down (stumble off of) the Hill and check in tomorrow. Surely they’ll have something fun going on there. More on that, later.
Your pal,
bob
This Wasn’t The Hard Stuff
Hey there Chilly Willies,
The last couple of weeks would appear to the casual observer to be a disaster, but never fear! Things can’t possibly be as bad as they seem. No, really.
I suppose we should examine my sister’s fateful week first. The blown tire on her car was no big deal, just call triple-A and ask them to change it. Sure, the blowout was spectacular what with the bits of rubber and steel cord everywhere leaving the wheel looking like a petro-mechanical tulip, but no worries. The spare went on and that was that. Surely she’d get the blown tire replaced in no time.
Blowout number two happened before that though. I’ve heard over the past week that the spare is almost guaranteed to blow in only a few tens of miles. Underinflation is usually the culprit. Sometimes, as in her case, the spare is full size (and on a real Lexus alloy wheel. Now that’s classy. Donut spares need not apply.) leaving one to delay the repair of the wheel that has become the spare. The side walls were paper thin and simply had to blow. They had no other choice, did they?
Thankfully, I asked her to have the car towed to the house and there it sat for a few days. She still had to go to work though, so as long as my Jeep was sitting idle while I was driving the mighty Dakota why not toss her the keys? What could happen? I had just put new tires on the thing so she couldn’t impose her curse on those too. No “special instructions™” required either. Just gas it up, turn the key, and go.
Key. Oh, that.
I’ve been very, very gentle with the ignition switch ever since I’ve owned the thing. Something wasn’t right since day one and I’d found a special turn-push-lift-turn procedure to get it to work that I failed to share with her. Turns out that if you don’t follow that unspoken and unwritten method, you can actually break the thin little ears off of the ignition lock inside the switch. Yes, off. Fully off. Jeep turns on but won’t turn to Start. That’s a problem when you want to start the engine and it left her stuck—again.
I have a lot of tools. More than a lot of people. I like tools and have quite a selection. At the Lodge. In the mountains. 127 miles away from the broken Jeep so I couldn’t fix it and get her back on the road in my ride.
What to do? That was simple. I bought my sister a set of tires for Christmas. What would you do?
The old lock and the new lock and the ignition switch, erm, “module” took a trip up the hill with me yesterday and were repaired by midday. The tires are on her car with the best old tire as the spare. She didn’t lose her job despite the days she had to take off work. I didn’t overdraw my bank account too badly, and everyone seems to be okay.
The Dakota wouldn’t start this afternoon though…
Your pal,
bob
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Dearest Pals,
Happy Monday After Thanksgiving! Black Monday, perhaps? Maybe Blackened Monday. I’ll explain, but first, some handy tips from the Idyllwild Fire Department…
Should you choose to clean your fireplace after a long holiday weekend of heavy use, here are some important things to keep in mind:
- Place the ashes in a metal container, not a paper sack.
- Locate that container away from wood siding and flammable liquids, like gasoline.
- The container should be placed on a suitable surface, preferably a concrete slab not a wooden deck.
- Douse those ashes with at least two inches of water, just to be sure they aren’t still hot.
Good to know, don’t you think? My neighbors didn’t seem to think so because by the time they left yesterday, they got each and every one completely wrong.
Sure, the temperature has dipped down into the low 40s, and it’s sure nice to have a great big cozy fire, just don’t burn down the forest to do it, okay? And please don’t start your fire right next to my house. Sheesh.
I had left for San Diego yesterday afternoon (no fire yet) and had arrived and settled in when the call around 8:00 came from my neighbor in the mountains. “Bob, do you know the name of the people who live in the house on the other side of yours?” she asked. “Nope, they’re sorta jerks and couldn’t spare two words for me. Why?” “Oh, their house is on fire and I thought I’d give them a call…”
“Wha!” (fire. now.)
Apparently, she thought that they had left their lovely Christmas lights on. Then she realized that the light from Christmas lights doesn’t shoot through the roof like that and that she should call the fire department. You can see that they were pretty quick and got things under control before they got much, much worse. (check out the untouched Cedar tree on the left of the burned roof)
Being a paranoid lunatic, I’ve taken the day off to inspect the damage and to see what I need to do to get things back to normal on my side. Not much, it turns out. Maybe a little mud cleanup from the water that rushed through my yard. Maybe sweeping up the silt that flowed under my back door. Maybe I’ll check for patches of burned grass around my place just to make sure they’re not hot.
Maybe I’ll just stop worrying.
Yeah, right.
Your pal,
bob
Omnibus Collection Of Words
Friends,
It had to happen at some point. I’m burnt out. The road-tripping back and forth between the two counties, the four work sites, two houses, lordy! I can hardly know where to be or where I am. It’s time to settle down and pick a spot, I should think.
If only I could.
But I can’t—or shouldn’t. It depends on who you ask, of course. The folks in San Diego, especially at the clinic, could really use my help on a daily basis. Staff in Riverside County are relying on me wholly to solve their computer problems. How would you answer those competing claims on time? How should I?
Aw crap!
How about this, to change the subject, I’ve had the giant and very dead oak tree in my front yard cut down today. Very loud, very dangerous, and very fast turnaround from Mountain Fire Abatement and Tree Service (or whatever they’re calling themselves nowadays, there was a different name on the bill). Not too professional, but who cares? They did a nice job and got rid of a great big and looming headache. I’d hate for a branch to break and fall on my parent’s new car over the Thanksgiving weekend.
(er, um, new car? your parents? wha? -ed Yes, it’s true. A Pontiac Torrent, actually. GM says that CUV stands for Compact Utility Vehicle, but they’re still mighty CUTE, don’t you think? – bob gm? aren’t they the number two carmaker after toyota that i’ve heard something about recently? – ed Not so fast, Slappy. They’re still number one in these parts. Not dead, just sleeping. Besides, Torrent gets new sisters beyond Chevy and Saturn from Saab {boo hoo} and Cadillac pretty soon so the Cute Utility Vehicle can’t be a bad thing. Right? – bob)
Oh! I’ve gone too long. More tomorrow (really!).
Your pal,
bob
zzzzz
Granted, it’s been days and days and days since the last post. I think I can also stipulate to the fact that if any website is to keep its readers, it must remain fresh and vibrant with new content updated on an understood, regular schedule.
To that I say, Ha! I spit at convention! I’ll update this thing when I’m damn good and ready! (or when I can take a break to sit down and write something, which is actually the case)
The schedule I’ve been trying to keep up has been hectic and I’m finding that I can’t do it all by myself. No, in case you were wondering, I don’t have any help but sadly, that has actually been for lack of pursuing it. I need to simplify my work life and that’s just not happening. Between spending half of my time in America’s Finest City (please…) and the rest in The Hub Of The Valley (which hub! which valley!) I can’t seem to get the full job done in either place. And that’s annoying all of the principals in the process.
Once Mr. Boss figures out what he wants, whenever that is, I’ll finally be able to concentrate on the task at hand. He still doesn’t get that maintaining the Medical Records system is a full-time job, but he may be coming around. We’ll see.
I’d love to keep working in The Hub if only to spend more time at The Lodge, but there are bigger things to do here (philanthropy? how unbecoming! – ed I’m “trusting my feelings” as they say… – bob). Yep, I think I’ve found my niche with this stuff, but the boss just isn’t feeling it. If only I could’ve made him think that it was his idea…
Oh, besides that, the leaves are turning up here in the woods. I spoke to a friend who used to live in Pine Cove who has no love for the tourists that show up for the “fall colors.” She was indignant; “they’re a bunch of ignorant lemmings. It’s leaves! It’s seasons! What’s the big deal? I just don’t get it.” It’s tourism and those lemmings spend money and a lot of the people who live here depend on it. I don’t see the problem, but I don’t live here full-time, do I?
There’s more, of course, but I’m going to cut it short. Been working on the podcast, don’t you know…
Your pal,
bob
Not Pakistan
It’s been raining here up on the Hill, raining fairly hard and fairly often over the last few days. That’s nothing unusual but when the earthquakes hit last night, all heck broke loose (that’s right, I said it). CalTrans, with their penchant for understatement, put the situation this way:
SR 74
[ORANGE CO]
NO TRAFFIC RESTRICTIONS ARE REPORTED FOR THIS AREA.
[SAN BERNARDINO & RIVERSIDE CO.’S]
IS CLOSED FROM THE JCT OF SR 371 TO THE JCT OF SR 111 /IN PALM DESERT/
(RIVERSIDE CO) – DUE TO MUD SLIDES AND FLOODING – MOTORISTS ARE ADVISED TO USE AN ALTERNATE ROUTE
Yeah, okay. The alternate route was to backtrack on my morning commute twenty twisty miles, refuel(!), then head up to 6,000 foot-high Pine Cove, down to Banning, and East on the 10 to the ‘Charity’s Far Eastern Outpost. I was late but nobody cared (a bad omen?).
CalTrans should stand up for some criticism here. The two signs on the road signaled “Road Closed Ahead.” Which road? I thought. Surely my road couldn’t be, you know, closed-closed. What would people do? Maybe the local news would have an answer…
From KESQ.com:
The recent rain has left Highway 74 closed.
California Department of Transporation spent the day blocking off the road, turning away cars and reinforcing the highway.
CalTrans says Highway 74 could be closed for through traffic for two days or two weeks. The closure caused a lot of people to miss work today.
If it continues, locals will have to get to the desert by taking the 243 over to the 10 and through Banning, then cut down from Banning to Palm Springs.
Tonight from 6 to 8 pm, locals with proof of residency for the blocked area will be escorted through.
That area includes those who live just beyond Big Horn [sic] Country Club up to Pinyon Drive.
Wow. Hard-hitting, hard-nosed journalism there. If what continues exactly? It? What’s It? Rain? Earthquakes? Rock slides? If you diagram the thing, It, is “the closure.” The road is closed, hence “the closure” because it’s impassable. That’s a fairly simple concept but I’m seeing an anti-government slant in this, the most basic of stories. Rocks fall on road. Crews close the road to clean it up. People are inconvenienced. Big whoop. The way this is written makes it look like CalTrans’ fault. Back to the media…
KMIR had nothing and frankly, I don’t remember the name of the other local teevee station in the desert. (UPDATE: It’s KPSP, and they’ve got nothing besides the fact that their site looks like crap on a Mac. Follow the link just to check out the smiling head shots in the banner. Almost “Anchorman” -like. Think they were Photoshopped together because they can’t stand to be in the same room at the same time? Just a hunch.)
The worker guy standing at the barricade just beyond Sugarloaf Cafe was smiling but very chilly. He said that he had only worked on clearing the rocks near the top but there were more slides lower, towards Palm Desert. “How many?” we asked (me and the other assembled and stopped commuters) “Oh, I was at marker 79, 82, 88… All pretty bad though. Don’t think it’ll be open for another couple of days at least.”
Think I’ll head back to San Diego. You know, I’ve got some unfinished business there.
More later,
bob
Thunderstorms, Isolated To Here And Everywhere Around Here…
It’s been a blustery ten hours or so up here. The rain let up long enough for me to take a happy snap that shows my view from the front porch…
Apparently, this rainy mess is coming from the Southeast. Hey! That’s where I’m driving tomorrow morning! Southeast of here. In a pickup. With expensive equipment lashed down in the open bed.
But there’s no chance of rain tomorrow, right?
I’ll just drive faster and hope the rain just flies over the top of the cardboard boxes. Yeah, that’s it.
More in a bit,
bob