Kicked to the Curb...

This topic was a gift from a blog I was reading earlier. It has to do with putting things out by your curb for removal.

When I replaced my defunct water heater some months ago, I stored it in my backyard for several weeks, waiting for "big trash pick up", a time when the city comes by and collects bigger than usual debris. About a week before the eventful day, I wheels the leaky water heater to the curb and went back for some palm fronds that had been cut, when I noticed a pick up truck speeding away with my water heater in the back. I tried yelling that it leaks to the would be felons, but they were long gone. I actually felt bad that they risked their reputation as clever thieves, committing a felony for a water heater that leaks, but "Oh Well"!

Another item that I wanted to get rid of, was a Weber Barbecue that had rusted through the bottom. It looked okay from the outside, but when you removed the lid, you could see your shoes. So I put it out by the curb and taped a sign to it that read, "FREE". That thing kept disappearing, but when I'd look in front of the neighbor's house, there it stood. The people that would take it would wait until they got away with it to inspect it and would determine that it was not worthy of the price...........FREE. They would just abandon it where it was and make me wheel it back home for the next passer-bye. Eventually, I must have come across a clever person that was willing to put a piece of sheet metal on the bottom, that's really all it needed.

The next thing that made it's way down to the curb was my built-in microwave oven that quit working. Now that's a losing proposition. They all cost more to fix than to replace with a brand new one, which is what I did. The old Mike took until sundown to make it's way to Microwave heaven, when it mysteriously disappeared. I feel bad for the people that take these items. they're so full of plastic that they don't even have any metal value.

Here is an item that took forever to get picked up by the trash collectors. In the old days, we used a diaper pale and although it had little baby decorations on it, it was still the same shape as a garbage can. Each week the trash collectors would pick it up, look inside of it and put it back down. I finally had to smash it to a new and different shape, to get anyone to think it was trash.

Eventually, I discovered why the trash men didn't show up at all on occasion. After being married for a short period of time, my new wife discovered my Playboy Magazine collection and decided it had to go. Women don't understand that sort of thing, particularly in the early 70's. Those things NEVER get thrown away, they improved with age. Well, she wasn't going to hear it, they were doomed. With tears in my eyes, I walked them to the curb, early one garbage day. I sat in the window and sobbed as my old friends were about to be trashed. I could hear the truck coming. With great anticipation, my stomach cramped up as I saw the truck coming in the corner of my eye. With the screaming of it's air brakes the truck came to a sudden halt and 2 trash collectors hopped off and grabbed a couple of the garbage cans, tossing theme into the back of their truck. Then suddenly, without warning, it was almost like God gave my girls a reprieve, all of the employees on that truck got off and then began to read my Playboys. They must have been there for 2 hours just sitting and reading and looking at the pictures. With me still watching, the magazines got stacked and put into the cab of the mighty truck. That's when I finally sighed a sigh of relief, because I knew my "girls" were going to finally getting good homes! My wife asked what's wrong as I walked bye and I replied, "Oh nothing"..

Mel

6/27/08

Where there's a Will there's a Way....

I've been face with a real dilemma. I've got several cars that require garaging and only space for 2 cars in the garage. I tried parking the Toyota in my driveway in the sun, but when I get into it, the steering wheel is too hot to touch for quite some time. This is not only dangerous, but painful... The cars that require garaging are the seldom touched Corvette, the 99 Cabrio convertible and the Volvo convertible that I will be picking up from the Lovely Jules, soon. In exchange, I'll be leaving her the Toyota leaving me 2 convertibles and a Corvette to keep at least covered and protected from the sun. If you don't live in Phoenix in the summertime, you just don't have any idea what temperatures can be achieved by leaving a car in the sun. Believe it or not, 175 with direct sunlight will make a dashboard curl up and scream for it's Mama. The attached picture is my Cabrio convertible parked on my rear "covered" patio on Saltillo tile.

Mel

6/24/08

Paintless Dent Removal...

Today, my main focus was to get hooked up with a dent guy. A dent guy is a guy that travels from car lot to car lot doing paintless dent removal. I have two cars that I can think of that need that sort of attention. First I dug through my old business cards that people would give from time to time, realizing when I found the first dent removal card that it said to dial 602 before a Glendale, AZ location, indicating that this card was from before we went to 3 area codes, years ago. What the heck, I tried it. I got the information that that number was in a different area code and hung up. Next, I added a 623 before the number and tried it again, but got the voice machine of a man that just arrived here from Bangladesh and he wasn't talking about dent removal, but in his closing did mention that Allah should be with me.

Next, a different card given to me by a neighbor 2 doors down and her boy-toy, Billie-Bob. About 5 years ago, my neighbor was at a local neighborhood bar getting drunk and she came home with Billie-Bob, a (then) 28 year old good looking young man that had the brain of a 14 year old. She has kept him captive there for the past 5 years, but since he thinks he's at summer camp, doesn't complain much. As soon as he figures out that the other kids won't be coming, he's going to get wise to her scheme and run away. On that card, the number was disconnected :=(

I went to the Internet and put in a search for "paintless dent removal", Phoenix, AZ. I got a list that were obsolete and otherwise gone. I tried Dent Busters on Cave Creek Rd. and got a guy that was just plain dumb. You can usually tell from someones voice if they're really dumb and this guy qualified as "STUPID +". He informed me that those guys don't exist anymore, the only way to get dents removed was to bring it to his shop where he worked, along with a kid named Billie-Bob. I told him how helpful he was and he actually believed me and hung up, yelling to Billie-Bob, "I done good"!

Next, I called an old friend of mine that would know of one if anyone would and he told me he's pretty much out of the car business. He's buying up equipment from construction companies that are going bankrupt and selling them on eBay and Craigslist. I asked him if he needed any help, but I think we were disconnected, hmm.....

Feeling defeated, I went to my mailbox to see who I owe money to and came back with nothing but an advertisement that said there was a sale on Cremations from Neptune Society, they were offering a special. Cremate one person and get an extra cremation FREE.. That really got me thinking!!!

Mel
6/23/08

My Calling in Life...

Knowing your position in life is very important to a person. It wouldn't be wise to rise above one's calling. My calling, of late, is to be the caretaker for these 2 wonderful beasts. My intention today was to sell my Volvo convertible to a man that was flying in from Reno, but I have to assume that his plane crashed, as he never showed up or even called to let me know he had changed his mind. As I sat pondering an email that I received from the Lovely Jules, it occurred to me that I don't have any cooked chicken for the Dynamic Duo and I don't even know where there is any on sale. An actual light bulb lit over my head and I recall seeing something about dead chicken in a flier from K-Mart. I went out to my garage where I tossed said flier and sure enough, they had dead chickens for 79 cent a pound for whole chicken, but only at the Super K-Marts. What the hell is a Super K-Mart? Does it fly?

I got into my Toyota that I was trying to melt in the sun and began the trip to a place called Super K-Mart. When it's 115 degrees outside and your Toyota is sitting in the sun, guess what the temperature of the steering wheel is. 2004 is not the exact temp, but it felt pretty close to that. I stopped at my mailbox to see if there were any fliers there and got lucky, there were. I found that milk is on sale at both Fry's and Albertson's for $1 a half gallon, but I hate milk. I haven't been to a K-Mart since the old Chinese restaurant moved to Indian School that Julie loved so much, I'm gonna guess at 15 years. When one has Wal-Mart, why would one go to K-Mart? It seemed to me that there was a K-Mart behind my old favorite Chinese Restaurant, but they tore it down years ago, That place was a former Bonanza Steak House for all of you oldies... So I was headed to Cactus and 32nd Street in beautiful suburban Phoenix. I was sure it was still there until I pulled up on the corner and didn't see it. Disgusted, I was about to turn around when I noticed a major shopping center where it used to be. It was talking about Craftsman and Sears, when I realized that Sears bought K-Mart and this joint was a new SUPER K-MART! I was close to getting chills, but not quite.

I entered and in keeping with K-Marts history, the joint was beautiful but empty. I was privy to the Number one Handicapped parking space without a fight with some old woman with a walker. I entered and bowling came to mind. This place was empty enough to bowl in. It was well lit, had the typical K-Mart employees, people that couldn't cut it at Wal-Mart. I saw a sign that read fresh meat and thought they were referring to me! I walked in that direction when I spotted their butcher. After reading some of the tattoos on his arms, I located his face and asked where they kept the dead chickens. With a friendly K-Mart smile, he pointed to the freezer case and gave me the "low down" on how they situate things there. If it's on sale, it's in the freezers on the ends of the isles, got it? I was tempted to challenge him to a game of tic-tac-toe on his forearm, but didn't feel that I knew him well enough. I spotted the dead birds though. Grabbing my limit of three, I headed towards the checkout when I thought, gee, this is an ideal place to get a floaty for my pool. I asked another young lady that was dragging her knuckles across the floor if she worked here, after all she was dressed in a red vest and had a K-Mart name tag. No luck, she didn't speak English. Another gentleman dressed similarly offered his help and I was told that the pool section is all the way down on the right. Putting my hands over my eyes to even see that far, I asked him to call me a cab for the trip down there. He didn't think it was funny and let me know with a dirty look.

After about an hour walk, I arrived at pool-land and again asked for direction from a K-Mart employee, but was told she was new. A way too friendly gentleman from the gay side of town sauntered up and offered his help. I asked for where I could find the floats for the kids. He pointed out a few that ranged in price around $50, I said no, for the little kiddies and he showed me one for $2.99! It said for age 4 and up and I'm over 4. I bought it. I was happy enough to skip! I've had the expensive ones and frankly, I don't want to store them all damned winter, I want to throw the mother out! I am a little worried that I might have bought a gay looking one, it's bright orange...

I drove home anxious to blow up my raft and put it into the pool, but when I entered, there was blood all over the floor. I assumed that someone rang my bell and my female Dane is so anxious, that she runs across the tackless strip that used to hold down the carpeting, that she has ripped loose. when she hits it, she bleeds like that and gets blood all over the floor. I cleaned it up and found lots of blood drops around the tile floor.

Knowing that I had dead chicken to clean and cook and dice, I began that chore. As soon as I opened the first dead chicken bag, I had two onlookers that couldn't be drawn away with a team of mules. As I took out the necks and gizzards for the trashman, I thought about the BARF diet and decided to toss a chicken neck to each of them. Neither dog knew what to do with it, Bogie spitting his out, but when I offered to throw it away for him, he swallowed that sucker on the spot. He was confused as he's never had raw food before, but as bad as his stomach has been on processed dog food, it couldn't have been any worse.

That was all about 5 minutes before I looked into the living room and saw a trail of diarrhea that ran about 10 feet long. Being color blind, I thought that was blood on the floor, but all along it was SHIT. Poor Bogie, here he's been sick the entire time I was gone and I come home and feed him a raw chicken neck for the first time ever. That's when he proceeded to puke all over the family room floor. Not having any patience for any of this stuff, I whisked Bogie outside, while I cleaned up the puke and just threw out the towel I used. Let Bogie in because remember it's 115 outside, then spent about 2 full hours cleaning up shit in the living room on the (used to be) white carpeting. Thank God for the latex gloves that Randi left.

Now it's time to feed the Dynamic Duo. What do you feed a dog that's blowing chunks and has the Hershey Squirts, but is famished and insists on eating. I gave him just kibble with his new powder that is for his sensitive stomach. I gave Zoie diced chicken and kibble and she wasn't interested eating, but a little. She went outside and wanted to drink, but feeling bad for her, I offered them cold water inside. Zoie drank a lot of water and wanted to go outside. I was still finishing up with the living room mess and I went outside and saw Bogie squatting unsuccessfully. Then I saw a puddle that he had left outside, telling me that he still had the squirts. I finished cleaning up everything, picked up the yard because it's garbage day. Chopped up a few palm fronds that had fallen in the wind last night and was thinking about stripping down to my underwear and jumping onto my orange raft, when suddenly, out of nowhere, Zoie explodes and pukes up her entire dinner all over the tiles patio, but in 3 different places. I'm totally disgusted with my head down into my hands saying, why, why, why, when I realize that both dogs just got sick OUTSIDE, not in the house! I hosed down the patio and jumped into the pool with my clothes on. I needed that 2 seconds under water where the real world doesn't exist..........just 2 seconds, please! I surfaced to 400 LB of Great Danes barking at me, trying to tell me that if I drown, who will be their caretaker? See, that's my calling in life!

Mel

6/18/08

Just Another HOT Day...

As I sit here at my post at the kitchen table, I wonder why I'm glued to this spot. This is a laptop on a wireless connection, yet I sit here working, when I could be travelling about. Where would I go? The rest of you, that are experiencing spring, have no idea what 115 feels like. It's been really hot here in the "Valley of the Sun"... While I was driving home on our freeway, the I-17, the thermometer read 118, but quickly cooled down to a breezy 115. Who am I kidding, it was hotter than hell today!

So, I'm sitting here and my best friend is at my feet, begging for attention. When I break for a paragraph, I reach down and pet his head and as soon as I stop, he lifts his big head and lays it on my lap to remind me to never stop. Bogie is a Great Dane and he weighs in the area of 300 LB, the biggest one I've ever seen. I adopted him as a pup and never saw his parents, but was assured by the rescue that his father was a monster. I'll bet he was, if his number one son is any indication.

About a month and a half ago, I was at the Dealer's Auction and mistakenly bought a Volvo that drove through, but just barely. It was really cheap and pretty clean other than the engine not sounding so good. I figured, what the heck, I can use a project and since I've got a great mechanic, I'll buy it. First thing that happened was, when I called my friend/mechanic to help me pick it up. Out of his mouth came, that it has a blown head gasket. We towed it to the lot. Then, my friend/mechanic went online and guess-timated the cost of repair and it called for 26 hours of labor. Did I mention that I felt as if I'd made a mistake? Because the job was not what he called "profitable", the car then sat for about a month, when I had a talk with my friend/mechanic that was quickly just becoming my mechanic. I explained that these cars don't accrue in value as they sit there, and if he doesn't want me to take this "juicy" job somewhere else, he's best get going on it. The next day he had it all torn down and 3 days later, the head was off and it was sent to the machine shop, where we got an estimate of $800 just to mill the head. With a tear dropping from my otherwise dry eye, I told him to go ahead. That was about a week ago and today, our machine shop genius announced that the proper specifications for the head are not available and he doesn't want the job and I owe him for what he's done so far. Does that sound right to you? Because he's not interested in finding out the correct specs for this car, I have to pay his for his work so far. I called a wrecking yard and found a motor for $1350 and I'm not going to be able to use the old one at all. I did say this car has been a headache, right? This car still needs misc. parts, like windshield wiper arms, gas door, and dip stick. It still has some dents to remove and the battery is flat dead and this damned dog won't stop begging for attention to let me write this damned blog! I don't drink and I don't smoke and I recently gave up sex and all of those things sound pretty good to me right now... and my best friend in the whole world will not stop farting as he lays faithfully at my feet.. I think I'll go to bed. Tomorrow will probably be fine, just fine....

Mel
6/17/08

What Goes Around, Comes Around...

You know how when you're alone and your eating breakfast, how your mind might wander off someplace that you haven't visited for a very long time? Well, that's what happened to what is left of my once pretty sharp mind. I was thinking about a transaction that brought a smile to my face, although at the time it was a disaster. It's also an example of how most things get evened out by the big guy up above and karma.

One fall day, I was at the auto auction when a white Dodge van went through. I'd recently had pretty good luck with vans and thought, this is a fairly low mileage one and the color is right, why not? I bid on it and eventually I was the high bidder and took possession of it. Sometime, between when I bought it and when I picked it up, it received a dent in the right front fender. I mentioned it to the management and they looked at the check in inspection, which included several pictures and sure enough, it wasn't there before. They told me to take the van, get it repaired and send them the bill for the repair. I was shocked that they would stand behind the incident and did as they said. I went to a body shop where a friend of mine was the owner and asked him how much to repair the dent. When he was finished, the estimate came to $700! I was again surprised, but he explained that I asked for a retail estimate and that he didn't owe me any favors currently and that's what he would charge to do the repair. I said, okay and took the estimate to the auto auction where they happily cut me a check. I took the check, tucked it deeply into my pocket for depositing and called Dent Masters. If you're not familiar with Dent Masters, they remove dents without body work. They prod and pry and with some pretty sophisticated tools cause the dent to just seemingly "jump out" of the fender. Although it wasn't perfect, it was certainly passable and it only cost me $50 for the 10 minutes of work.

Other than the repair to the fender, the van was completely ready for sale. I placed an ad in our local newspaper and waited. I got a few calls and eventually someone came out to see it. It was sort of an unusual couple. It was a father and son and the son was old enough to be my father, leaving his father to be somewhere around 90. The younger guy did all of the talking. They were looking for a van for Dad. He was more than capable of driving still and needed something to get him around as he wrecked his last car. It's never my position to judge people that want to purchase a car from me, but this guy certainly looked too frail to be driving. The son asked if they could take it for a test drive and of course I agreed. The son got into the driver's seat and pulled away with Dad in the passenger's seat waving goodbye. I waved back, looking in the garage for something to do for the 5 minutes they were gone. When they returned, Pop was driving and decided to back her into the driveway as opposed to pulling in straight. He was slow, methodical and precise, backing cautiously into my driveway............... until the last second where he meant to step on the brake and stop the van, but instead pounced on the accelerator, smashing into my house! I can't even describe the funny noise I made when I saw what he was headed for.

The old guy got out of the crunched van and started apologizing, using lots of, I thoughts..... I should haves..... and I'm sorrys...... That's when I pulled the van foreword to inspect the damage to the house. He had rammed the house pretty good and all I could think of is the $500 deductible on my home owners and the $1000 deductible on the car insurance. None of the damage was bad enough to reach those figures... The gentlemen left, promising to think about it. They called me the next day to tell me that they have found one that they liked better and it didn't have a smashed rear end.. I asked him if he was prepared to pay for some of the damage they caused and he explained to me something that I already knew.. That it was my responsibility to handle my own repairs if I'm going to do business from my home. Seething, I hung up and called the handyman that had quoted me $650 for the house repair alone. Humph, isn't that the same amount that I saved from the auction?

Mel

6/15/08

Farewell to "RED"...

1987 Red Corvette

There was a time in my life that offered a far more naive Mel. It was before I realized what the color "RED" could do to a person. Being a bit color blind, along with a percentage of my gender, color was not of the utmost importance to me. I always knew that "GREEN" was the worst color for anything not having to do with nature, but aside from that, I thought all colors were created equally, until I tried a few "REDS". I recalled delving into the Corvette market in my younger years. I learned that they held their value a lot more than the average automobile, simply because of the amorous lovers of sports cars, along with the passion for "RED". At one point I bought a Silver and Gray Corvette, that I loved because it was low mileage and that "chip" that they added to them to give them a little more horsepower. This Vette SCREAMED down the road. I kept it for probably a year and eventually tried selling it. No luck. Everyone I showed it to had "a few more to look at". (Death to the car salesman). A friend suggested I paint it "RED" and I replied, why. The more I thought about it, it would seem like a different car to me and might give it new strength in the sales market. I went ahead and tried it, knowing full well that changing colors on a car is a big "no no".

It came out beautiful, although the expense of the paint job made me think I might have priced it out of the market. I liked it so much that I decided to keep it a little while longer. Another year later, there was no doubt in my mind that I was stuck with this car. I seldom drove it as I got older and was about to turn 50. I decided to try my luck on it one more time and placed an ad. My price was so high that I didn't think I had a chance in hell of ever selling it. The very first phone call I got was from a man named Ralph. Along with several questions about the car, he asked why was I selling it. I thought for a moment and answered, "because I'm getting too old for it". Ralph inquired how old I was and I replied, 50. He said, that's not too old, I'm 54! I told Ralph that he was too old too! We both laughed. Ralph made an appointment to come out and see the car.

When Ralph showed up for his appointment, he was a nice enough guy. He was an engineer for Allied Radio and they were in the process of being eaten up by Honeywell I believe and his life was turned all upside down. Not only was his job being compromised, but his wife of many years announce that she was leaving him and leaving their 17 year old son with him, as well. So now Ralph was unemployed, abandoned, aging and reaching out. I couldn't have ordered a more ideal buyer!!!

We went out to the garage and looked at old "RED". As she sat there in her glory, I noticed a gleam start to shine in Ralph's eye.. He asked all of the right questions and all of the answers were good. It was a one owner, owned by an older Scottsdale gentleman, had all of the service records, a clean accident history. I told Ralph that it used to be silver and I painted it "RED" and he remarked, nice job. He asked if we could take it for a ride and told him of course, that's what this is all about. As Ralph climbed into the driver's seat, somehow he didn't look 54 anymore, more like a 45 year old Ralph. He cautiously pulled out into the road and took off, going slowly and methodically. Ralph was starting to show the "pride of ownership" that I had hoped for.

Being my neighborhood, Ralph asked where he could take it to best let him get a feel for the car. Since Greenway Road had just been paved and restriped, I suggested it. Greenway almost looked like a race track in the area that we were in. It had banks and curves and ideal for a test drive, plus I knew a secret about old "RED". "RED" was quick. She moved right along. When you would "get on it" in first gear and let wind out, when it shifted into second, due to the torch of the engine, it would give a little "chirp" from the rear tires and it would slide a little to the left, making you think you were losing control of the car, but would always regain it's control. When I first discovered this, I felt a little bit of adrenalin escape into my bloodstream, along with a little bit of pee into my pants!

I suggested to Ralph that he "get on it" once and Ralph looked over and said, you don't mind? I said, I know you want to. Ralph pulled over and started from a stop and only "RED" and I knew what was to come. As "RED" got ready to shift into second, I made it a point to watch Ralph's face. It went from responsible, to terror, to delight. I knew that "RED" was going home with Ralph.

When we got back to my house, we were both still sitting in the car. Ralph looked over at me and said, "How much are you asking for it, $11,000? I nodded, yes. Immediately Ralph asked, would you take $10,000? I think all I did was raise one eye brow and without my saying a word, Ralph just said, why would you, I'll just take it. We both burst out laughing.

Ralph paid me and left with "RED". He left his Jeep at my house overnight and came back the next day with an overjoyed 17 year old son with him to drive the Jeep. I watched out the window as the argument took place and the kid eventually got into "RED" and took off. I felt a sense of loss as I watched "RED" drive away, but the $11,000 seemed to comfort me.

Mel
6/13/08