The Blue Whale redux

I brought the whale home from its repose for a once over this weekend. The on board computer indicated an average of 20MPG on the run home! So take that Al Gore!

The Blue Whale

I have officially become an old person. I am now driving around (slowly) in a 1995 Lincoln Town Car with faded paint and split leather seats. To quote the B52s: "...it's as big as a whale and it seats about 20..." which describes this car. It sort of marshmallows along as I drive it and it definitely doesn't want to be hurried around corners or merging onto the freeway. I got the car through the generosity of Chechee and it is what I keep stashed at work to conduct my daily business with. I'm only putting about 3 miles a day on it which is fortunate because of the various warning lights that are on (ding, ding..antilock brake failure; ding, ding...check air suspension). So far it has started each time I've asked it to. It has become a topic of conversation at my place of business, mostly gently humorous although the fact that it takes up 1.5 parking spaces is a little disconcerting for my fellow parking lot users. I feel like the anti Al Gore when I drive it and I am sure the Amazon rain forest dies a little more each time I start it but then again I am balancing that by commuting via train and bike so perhaps in the scales of environmental justice I may be coming out even.

Stay tuned for further adventures....

Life in the fast lane

I've started my new job which is for a municipality (which may not be ever, ever be mentioned so please don't even leave comments regarding the name of the place or terrible things will happen!) which I am happier than a clam could ever be to have, but that isn't the point of this post. That comes next time. Today I'm talking about what I have been avoiding since 1992 more or less successfully: the dreaded commute by car. Until I moved to the new job I commuted by train and I loved it. This is despite being involved in a crash and derailment my first year using the system, multiple broken down trains, being on a train that struck, killed, and decapitated a man as it rolled into the station (I only know the poor guy suffered that final indignity because of the fellow riders who rushed to the window to see the carnage and then told the rest of us, most of whom felt compelled to look for themselves), being verbally assaulted by several certifiably insane bag people (on different occasions) who objected to me putting my bike near their mound of mouldering possessions, and...well that is probably enough. What I did like is that I did not have to drive and face the daily running of 'Death Race 2000' reenacted live on the Golden State freeway. So far in two weeks I have had 3 cars and 1 semi suddenly change lanes into the space that my very large Jeep just happened to be occupying as we all hurtled down the freeway with vehicles randomly switching lanes like the scene from Star Wars where Han Solo suddenly has to pilot through the dense belt of rocks that are all bouncing off each other and crashing and.....ok, I'm calm now. The most egregious was the ramshackle Firebird that literally suddenly dodged into me as my front bumper came level with his rear. I braked, swerved, and blew the horn in one coordinated action. I discovered that the automatic stability control and anti lock brake system work nicely in tandem and I did not roll the Jeep. The other driver stuck his hand out the window and gave me that timeless response of unspoken eloquence that involved a certain digit in a human's hand.

The ride home on the other hand is a study of life in slow motion, about 5 MPH slow. This is when I curse the day that I felt that a manual transmission was just what I needed in my Jeep. I hope the clutch and my knee can stand up to it.

Anyway, that is my story for today. More to come!

Like getting five numbers in the lottery!

Some years ago Mrs Grouch bought a lottery ticket. I sat down the evening of the drawing to watch the 10 o'clock news to learn the winning lottery numbers. They read the first number and we had it. They read the second number, we had that one too. They read the third number and we had that one also. Now I was starting to pay attention. They read the fourth number and we had that one too! My heart was beating like a snare drum....they read the fifth number...we didn't have that one. So sad, too bad.

But, I had that same feeling today. The Mrs and I like to go to the local Barnes and Noble and cruise the new book section. We nonchalantly write down the names of books that we want to read and then later request them from the county library system. I just logged on to the library web site and started requesting books. Let me say that the books I like are frequently not in the mainstream of the library patrons and thus are not ordered by the system. Today I had five books to request and each time the library had at least heard of the book and put me on the list! Five for five! Better than winning the lottery - well sort of.

New Job!

The new job starts on the 8th! Everything is finalized, finished, and done. I took the physical for the new job on Tuesday; the doc said I had the blood pressure of a 20 year old man which gratified me so much I went out and ate some greasy food to celebrate. I am still laboring away at my current job and trying to direct folks to others for help since I won't be there soon.

More to come on this subject in a week or so. Stay tuned.

Give...or else

It is time for the real Grouch to emerge from the shadows and give forth with some grouchiness.

So, there I was in church this past weekend. The priest announced that it is time again for "Together in Mission". This is where the diocese hits up the parishes for money for the less fortunate parishes - well actually all the parishes have to give an assessed amount of money to the diocese. Then, the diocese magnanimously will give back whatever amount they feel like to the less fortunate parishes. Seeing as how the Church is much into 'social justice' these days I am not surprised that the institution has chosen to model this forced philanthropy after the worst of the federal government; coerce money (taxes) and then give it back as it chooses (welfare, grants, etc).

Being that I am well into my middle age years I am a bit of a mellowing grouch so at this point I was not too torqued about this process. Then we were introduced to the principal of a Catholic school in Watts whose school has benefited from the TIM program. The very sincere educator detailed how the TIM program saved the school from certain closure by making much needed improvements. Ok, charity is good and getting a decent education is a worthy cause. She should have stopped there. She went to to say that our (my) money is being used to pay medical coverage and retirement for the teachers! Mrs Grouch is working as a teacher and she doesn't get these benefits from her school and here I am subsidizing some one else?! Then we learned that the students are being sent to the most prestigious high school on the west side of town and some even are being moved along to Loyola Marymount college. Well. I guess I am a major league un-mellow grouch but suddenly the forced philanthropy didn't taste so good. These kids are going to prestigious schools via my 'donations'. My kids couldn't go there without taking out major-big time school loans. I am conflicted by this whole process. We Grouches donate a sizable amount of money to the church and other charities. We send money to two children overseas to support them in their very poor circumstances. I guess I just resent being told to donate the money or else and then hearing that I'm paying someone else's benefits too. I guess I am a grouch.

I told you that my inner grouchiness was coming out.

Affairs of the heart

Poor young son. The girl of his dreams whom he just took to the Winter formal has tossed him for another guy. And she even used the dreaded 'we can still be friends' line on him. Man, they learn early! He was very sad over the weekend but not so much today. He's young and resilient. I offered him a song download to ease his pain and that cleared up any lingering sadness. He's already being philosophical about his change in romantic fortunes and realizes that being out of the dating game means more funds for video games.

That's my boy!