Palm Springs

Sara's mom turned 60 this weekend. She lives in LA, so we met her there and drove out to Palm Springs. Not bad livin' out there. Windy as all get-out, but we had a good time. We hit the Discovery Museum, did some shopping, and Sara and I got to go see "I Love You, Man," which was hi-larious.

We fly back tomorrow. Good times.

Postponed No More

The board fits on the bag.
The gear fits in the bag.
Marine forecast is great.
We canceled last year.
The flowers are out.
No chance of rain.
It's on!

That's Got To Hurt

"It was Mrs. Crafty, in the sewing room, with the rotary cutter."

Sara recounts the incident over at her craft blog. (She seems oddly proud, like a surfer who's been attacked by a shark. )

What was most creepy, from my view, was when she passed out. Both times, her eyes stayed open as her glasses were knocked askew.

You're right: that's less weird than the fact I retrieved and froze the meaty flesh-filet. Still there in the freezer. Wanna see?

More flickr gore.
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Naturally, we've been comparing injury stories:

Mr. D reports that once, he put a chisel right into the meat of his palm.

Am told Mr. R apparently went into deep his own finger with a power saw. Almost lost it.

I've had my hand opened (and stitched closed) thanks to hobo dogs and river rocks.

You?

Great Shape (for dead)

We first heard that there was a white shark scare at Camel Rock. I was told Whitey was probably checking out the dead juvenile whale that bobbed around Trinidad before washing up on the right side of Houda point. What? A dead whale?
We're there!

Being whale-carcass afficionados, we went out on Saturday's low tide. Andy, Ava, Zeke and Owen came out, too. The whale was easy to find.

Suprisingly, it didn't have the throat-choking odor that often accompanies dead whales. It didn't smell good, but at least you could walk right up to it without your eyes watering.

Sasha and I talked about how the whale was slowly going back to nature. A surfer said a biology class came out the day before to remove some whale parts; does that count?

While there were some guts scattered about, it wasn't too decayed, probably because it was below the high-tide line. With that, though, is the constant trickle of shark-attracting odor washing into Humboldt's most popular surfing waters.

On that note, a surfer asked me if I knew anything about the recent white shark tagging operation. I knew nothing. He'd heard that someone was tagging (and presumably tracking) white sharks nearby. 10 had been tagged between the mouth of the Mad and Trinidad, he added.

Afterward, we wandered the beach, climbed rocks, drew sand pictures, and enjoyed the weather.

7'4 Fish

You're nerdy, flat, uncool, funny-shaped, and Deanna thought you were from Ikea.

I love you. Let's go away.

Haircut: FAIL

Sometime between plugging the clippers into the socket and applying them to my head, the little plastic blade guard fell off.

Of course, I fly out to a work conference tomorrow.

Sicko II

While Sasha was getting better, Sara was coming down with something. We thought it might pass, but no.

Sara's had this going on for nine days now, which was surely extended by the stress of a sick toddler. Today, she went in to see a doctor.

Confirmed: Bronchitis AND a fever.
Antibiotics: order up.

On the good side, Sasha is recovering well from her infections.

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Down at my work, we've been really lucky for the last several days. We've had a wide range of talent stop by to do their thing. I think we've been scoring big (although I might re-EQ 2/9).

If you can grab podcasts from my work, check the four from February 6-10.

Sicko

Pinkeye is going around the daycare.
She also has a new ear infection and a fever.

We've been swabbing out eye-boogers since Saturday. For such sick kid, she's being a total champ. Most of the time, she's pretty chipper.

Today, she called handed me a toy ducky and said "Here, Mike."

Sara picked up something funky, too.

Extreme Sports

Eventually, one of these guys is going to be a meat waffle on the side of a mountain. Until then, this remains one of the most stunning things the internet has ever provided.

Seriously, though. How do you turn?

See more funny videos and Technology Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Who Loves Auto Repair!? We Do!

(Pardon the lack of identifying details, but we want our options open if we, say, go to small claims court. Which we won't.)

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Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. - Attributed to Albert Einstein.

Funny story about that quote....(and by "funny," I mean "$4000.")

So.

My Check Engine Light went on after a trip to the mountains. It was three weeks later that I had a opportunity to take the car in.

I go to a non-dealer shop. They change the oil and turn off the CEL. "We don't really know what that was about." That's weird, but whatever. The light's off, so they send me on my way.

Two days later, the light's back on! WTF.

It feels less urgent this time, so I wait until the next oil change to have it looked at. Now it's June, and this time, we go to the dealer. Actually, my mom goes. They change the oil but forgot about the light, so she goes back that same day.

They "pull the codes" on the CEL, fail to give cause for further inspection, turn it off, and send her home. (Again.)

So...two mechanic visits and even the dealer shrugs it off, I get the hint.

"The car's fine," purred the Universe. "It's probably the Check Engine Light itself." Works for me.

"Good point, Universe, that's happened to me before. Am I wiser than the mechanics? NO. Being a sane person, I shan't repeat this malarkey."

Now, it gets awesome! (By "awesome," I mean "fist-clenchingly annoying.")


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My sweet, sweet car, in happier times.







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So, months and months go by, and now the car is idling harder. The engine is timid. The light is blinking sorrowfully. Back to the dealer we go.

First of all, the dealer has no record of checking the CEL over the summer. Weird. Paperwork is signed. I go to work.

Two hours later: "Hi, it's the auto shop. Your engine is essentially crushing itself due to misfiring pistons. You want us to see if it's salvageable at all?"

"Wait, what?!?!?" She wasn't kidding. We authorize further exploration, which somehow gets postponed the next day.

Thankfully, someone at the shop goes to bat for us and the manufacturer's rep agrees to cover half the repair costs. This is good! Meanwhile, we check the web to see where we went wrong.

Hey, look! Our make/model/year has a lengthy history of faulty engines. Something about bad aluminum at the engine plant? I know someone with the same car, and the dealer covered 100% of her repair. Our case worker responds that the automaker's local rep offers rebates based on "what kind of mood he's in." Classy!

Furthermore, the interweb is full of stories exactly like ours: CEL comes on, no clue why, oh well. Miles go by, then "Whoops! Your car is dead. You shoulda had that looked at sooner!" Talk of a class-action lawsuit litters the message boards. People are pissed, in large numbers. Sara's fury is intimidating and kinda cool at the same time.

Back at the shop, the labor/parts bill is soaring. My mom got wind of the car trouble, and offered up the last of her meager inheritance from her own mom's passing to help us out. Which is great!

But, how soul-crushing is it that grandma's money is going to solve a stupid car issue? Regardless: beggars, choosers....we're deeply grateful for her help. It's a Christmas Miracle (with a depressing undercurrent)!

Days pass. I bum rides. We stew. We research. They work on it. Charlie stays home every day, sullen and depressed.

"You're probably not getting your car back until after Christmas," they say. K and S generously lend me their car while they're out of town.

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The day after Christmas, the shop calls. "Your car is ready." Sweet!

The shop total is over $4ooo. My mom (actually, her deceased mom) absorbed much of the discounted cost. We're still out of money, and now we're even "outer" of money. At Christmastime. Whatever. It's only a car, and I'm so grateful to have it back! I drive away, glad that it's in the past.

Lessons learned:
1. The light goes on for a reason, even if the mechanic doesn't know what it is
2. You can get by without a car, but regular maintenance is better
3. The Universe is a slacker
4. Selectively ignore Einstein, who might not even be the source of that stupid quote

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So, I got the car back on Saturday. Today, (Monday), my Check Engine Light flickered back to life.

Zeke Survived A Call-In Show

Remember that one radio show that's, in my view, simply awesome? Zeke called in!

I've been listening for years and have never called, partially because the host is known for terminating calls with gusto. Imagine stepping into the arena with a wild giraffe on the loose. It could be good. Or not. You just don't know! It's like the Soup Nazi, just funny. You're supposed to get on the air, you make your point, and get out, which he did. The unspoken agreement is "entertainment and efficiency."

Not only did Zeke NOT get hung up on, but survived unscathed. And made a great point!



Quality call, Zeke from Eureka, California. Top shelf.

You Need A Bangin' Donk

Yes, there are much more interesting things to write about (double-birthday awesomeness, tacky sweater party), but I can't stop saying "Puh uh DONK ah it." Over and over.

Best description: terrifying/amusing. And utterly catchy. Like the Macarena.

Via Fact (and practically every UK music blog): "Ever wondered what would happen if you crossed hard house with happy hardcore with niche with woefully substandard grime-style MCing?"



De-Donk me, please, before this goes international/viral.

Tunnels

Note to people trying to end cell phone converstations: "I'm losing you, I'm going into a tunnel....hello?" doesn't work in Humboldt county.

We don't have a tunnel, do we? At least, none that I know of, and certainly none big enough to lose cell reception.

There's this one in Marin. There's apparently one on the 199.

Are those the closest real tunnels?