Jag Repair Woes

It's been over four months since I hit the deer with the Jag. Because I hardly tapped the deer, the damage to the car was minimal. Just a broken headlamp glass and the grill was cracked. The grill is plastic. I guess if it would have been chrome the car would have been priced out of the range of most luxury car buyers.



After the accident, I did a police report and intended to file a claim with the insurance company. But then I thought about it and figured that I could probably have it repaired for less than my deductible, which is $500. This damage could not amount to that much and I could probably do the repairs myself. I guess I came to that conclusion after I had a beer or two. That same night I probably thought I was a good dancer and singer as well.



So, I got on eBay and found a used grill in perfect shape. Only $175. Sold.



Then I was so ticked off to learn that the headlight glass could not be replaced, the entire two light giant component needed to be replaced. The thing still worked, just the one small glass was broken. A new one is $775, just for the part. I want environmentalists to get involved in this, if Jaguar just made replacement glass think about how much less would be in landfills.



I finally found a used headlight for sale on eBay, from somewhere in California. I bought it for $200. It said it was waranteed. But when I emailed the guy with a question he answered me back with an attitude. I'm afraid I may have bought this from some gang and a chop shop.



I finally got the headlight and it matches the car except it looks 15 years older than the one that it will replace, which has been lovingly cared for and garaged. Oh, well, I think it may be able to be buffed out.



So, Saturday comes and I take Bob out to the garage to install the parts and finally fix the Jag. We open the hood and just stare inside. Hmmm...this isn't like replacing a lightbulb. There are a bunch of wires and it's way too confusing. He begins to pull on a wire and I tell him to stop, we need to hire an expert. All I can picture is him getting electrocuted or doing more damage than good.



Today, I took it to the local Shell Station, Peach's in Phoebus. The man there was really nice. But after an hour he called to say that the headlight could not be installed there. In order to attach it, it requires removal of the bumper! He did attach the grill and didn't charge me, so I bought him some donuts as a thank you.



To summarize, I now have spent $375. The grill is finally fixed. But, I have to go to a body shop and have the bumper taken off so the used headlight can be installed. Then, it may not even work, I doubt that chop shop took great care in removing it. The warranty on the headlight may be bogus, backed by a bunch of thugs who want to break my kneecaps or I could wake up with a horse head in my bed.



I guess then I'll call the insurance company.

Fountain of Youth

I’m back at the Lakehouse in Wisconsin and watching the lake turn from ice to liquid again.

I discovered that my basement was flooding, it was the sump pump, which had stopped pumping. So I chose a plumber the way most people do. I saw a nice clean truck driving around that had “Plumbing” on it with a phone number.

I could have called the plumber down the street, but his sign is hideous. It has those slide in letters and they are all worn, faded and in different colors and stages of decay. He also has an unsecure wireless network, which is another indicator of half-ass and sloppy.

So, my new plumber pulled up and I was really happy until he backed his trailer over my little flower bed. Oh, well, nothing is blooming yet anyways.

While the plumber was here, I also had him reroute the drainage pipe because the other one drained into the lake, which is supposedly against DNR rules and also caused the land behind my sea wall to be soft and when the ice push came, blew it all apart. (That repair is on tap for next month.) You can see the sea wall in the picture.

The new sump pump is in and when he turned it on, it pumped enough water to raise the lake an inch. It turns on every 3 minutes (yes, I’m timing it) and pumps more water out. Now the side of my house is like a small creek. I’m hoping this will evaporate. I’m also throwing some bird seed in it so the birds take baths and fly off with some of my water on their feathers.

I am beginning to think that this house is on a spring. The plumber told me that there are artesian springs in the area. Maybe I could sell this stuff as some kind of fountain of youth water. I just would have to wear a veil over my face so the customers won’t see it’s a farce.

One thing the plumber told me as we were standing outside watching the sump pump gush water from the fountain of youth is that the eagles eat the ducks that fall asleep on the lake and get frozen in. I was horrified by this story, and I watched the eagles fly all along the icy parts of the lake, looking for their weak prey.

So, after he left, I drove around the entire lake and looked for stuck ducks that I might have to free. One more thing to worry about.

Cherry Blossoms

Bob and I were in DC Wednesday, peak time for the cherry blossoms. We drove down to the Tidal Basin area to see them. It was bedlam. People everywhere, horrible traffic, traffic lights weren’t working, and there was not one parking spot to be found. After an hour of driving around, we decided to head back to the hotel. As we entered the highway, I tried to snap a quick picture of the cherry blossoms from the road. I ended up with a close-up of the guard rail.

We ate an early dinner and I was lamenting that the day had such perfect weather and I was disappointed that I didn’t get some pictures of the cherry blossoms. Bob said, “Let’s take the Metro down there. We’ve got over an hour of daylight left.”

It was about a half-mile walk from the hotel to the Metro. We didn’t have a lot of small bills but didn’t want to put a $20 in the Metro ticket machine, because it gives change in those fake looking $1 gold coins. Bob put $5 on his card and I put $2 on mine.

We got on the Metro and asked a lady which stop would get us closest to the Tidal Basin. We got off at that stop and when I put my ticket in the machine to release me from the Metro, it would not take it. I asked the Metro cop why. He said I didn’t have enough money on my ticket. So I put the 85 cents I needed on and we were on our way. (And, yes, on the way home, we ended up with the gold dollar coins.)

Our hour of daylight was quickly evaporating as it took a half hour to get there and about 5 minutes to gather enough change to get out of the Metro station. The first thing we realized it that we had not gotten off at the closest Metro stop. We had to walk about a mile and a half to get to the Tidal Basin. By now we were in a very fast walk.

I wanted to jay walk and cut across grassy areas, but Bob would not cooperate. We had to stay on the sidewalks as the signs told us. We are in a slow jog and I am breathlessly complaining that we would be there by now if we just took my shortcuts. The sun is quickly dropping from the sky.

Bob suddenly stops and takes a picture of a random cherry tree. He explained that this was going to be the best we could do. By the time we got to the Tidal Basin, the sun had set. It was so beautiful but we were unable to capture it with a picture. Guess I’ll just have to buy a postcard

The Advice Giver

Yesterday, I had my hair done at an entirely new salon (for me it's new, but it’s been there 3 years). I told the owner that I liked the colors she chose for the walls, the items for sale, and the personnel (who were very friendly). I also told her she needed to move her awards to the front area of the salon and put her certifications and explanations of such on her website.

The owner of the salon asked me to please return because I brought so many laughs into the salon. (Maybe it was because I asked the man who was getting his hair cut if he used dye.) I found out from another patron that there are good furniture deals if I drive to North Carolina. I kind of broke one candle on display and when the owner said she’d have to mark it down to 50% off, I bought it. I told her I’d be back to break more things and buy them “on sale.” I love that salon.

Today, I went to look at granite for my house in Chesapeake and I met most of the crew and eventually the owners. The owners came into the room we were in because it sounded like a party. It was because we were telling funny stories and I have a loud laugh. Note to self: one day I may be able to get hired out for parties to make it seem like fun because of my laugh.

Once I met the owners, I had to tell them about the granite I liked, how terrific their employees were, what to think about in advertising, and how to reach people like me who do not know their established reputation because I have only lived here a month. I asked them what kind of houses they lived in, what kind of granite they had and why they didn’t hold a party for people like me to see it all.

One of the owners (they were brothers) walked me to my car (the Jag) and I asked him if he knew anyone who could fix it at a good price so my husband wouldn't get electrocuted in his attempt. He laughed, either at my comment or because there was still deer fur embedded in my headlight.

I suppose he could have been rude enough to give me advice like I did to him, but he did not. But I could read his mind…this car has been damaged since Thanksgiving and you still drive around this way?

The Inconsiderate Hostess

We have lived here for a month and we had our third set of houseguests last night. Last night’s guests were friends from Wisconsin. I told mom they were visiting and she said, “Don’t go overboard, but be good to them because their dad will spread it around town.”

Bob was out of town, so I was on my own.

The weather was beautiful so I suggested we go for a walk. After about a mile of walking, I noticed Kelly was limping. I asked her if she was okay and she said she had a bad disk in her back that made her leg go numb. Hmmm, I guess I should have found that out before beginning the walk. I wanted to carry her home, but she was a trooper.

We got back to the house and I opened the beer refrigerator and showed them the selection. Kelly doesn’t drink beer. So, I offered her any mixed drink that used grapefruit juice because that’s all I had.

For dinner I made pork tenderloin. I hadn’t thought to ask if they were vegetarians. Luckily, they weren’t. After dinner, we went out on the porch. We sat out there and talked until Kelly mentioned that she was freezing and could we please go in. I noticed it was already 9:00 so suggested we go to bed.

I got into bed, caught up on my emails, and turned on the tv. Damn, American Idol was on and Kelly and Rod and mentioned they really wanted to watch it. I shouldn’t have sent them to bed. I didn’t even think to tell them to make themselves at home. So, now I want to go and knock on their door and tell them that they can get up and watch American Idol if they want, but I am not sure that is a good idea.

In the morning, they hurried out of here. As they left, they told me what a nice hostess I was. Probably because they thought that if they didn’t, I’d make them write it on a chalkboard 100 times.

I wonder what mom will hear around town…that I force marched them, made weird mixed drinks, froze them out, and sent them to bed by 9:00 with no American Idol?

Props

When I was growing up, I had a mom who was different than my friends’ moms. I wanted her to be like June Cleaver, but that was never the case. At the time, I didn’t realize the terrific things I was learning from her. One of them was to always have a “prop” on hand. When she would travel with her girlfriends they would always bring large purses (to sneak beers into venues with), and a giant jock strap and giant bra (I am talking about 3 feet across). They would hang those in the hotel room (and eventually on the patio or window) to entertain passers by –and themselves.

My siblings and I have learned the art of the unexpected. When we go on a trip or to a game or concert, we always bring props. I think I was the first one to bring the D-Fence sign to Lambeau Field (I had seen it in Kansas City). At every game we attend, Bob rolls his eyes and asks what signs I’ve made or what props are in the bag.

At the Wisconsin State Fair last year, we brought crocheted shorts which I had been given as a gag gift when I left California. We sat down at a table and would call out to people walking by and ask them if they’d like to wear the shorts. These shorts were a huge hit. People wanted to buy them, but we would only allow them to try them on and photograph themselves in them. The fatter the person, the more the holes in the crochet would stretch. The shorts were baby blue with a pink ribbon and it was hilarious to see grown fat men squeezing into them. We became a side show at the Fair. And we were free.

In Vegas, my sisters brought a broom doll. She was posed all over the strip. She was even held up by a bunch of gangsters for a picture. She had her ‘foot’ run over by a taxi. She ended up being passed around the dance floor.

In Mexico, there was a horse I bought that they told me was hand carved wood. It turned out to be made of plaster and everywhere he went, he sustained more chips. We named him Chipper. He was photographed with people all over Mexico and southern Texas and ended up on stage with the live band on 6th Street in Austin. By then, Chipper had only a couple of legs left.

Now it’s Saint Patty’s Day and I have the Irish Nutcracker. He went with me to Williamsburg last week and he would talk to people (using the lever at the back of his head). The funny thing was that they would answer him and look him in the eyes. At times, he would yell at people, or faint, or just sing. Sometimes, he was rude to people.

Tomorrow is his holiday and he is going to go out and have some fun. I will accompany him. I will try to keep him under control, but this is his day so there’s no predicting how it will go.

Thanks, mom, for the great things you taught me.

Army Basic Training

We visited Fort Jackson last week and witnessed Army Basic Training up close. It was just amazing, these kids get there at all times of the day and night and the in-processing is open 24 hours. The Chow Hall is open until 2 am. By the time they go to bed, they already have a PT uniform.

On the first day of training, the new soldiers are taken to learn to rappel and do rope swings and climb rope bridges. There is a small rappel wall and that’s one I could do (I say that while standing safely on the ground). Once they learn that, they have to do the big rappel, which is about three stories high. They are scared, but they cheer each other on and gain confidence as they accomplish these feats. The end of the first day brings exhaustion, conquering mental and physical stress, and understanding the importance of teamwork.

The Drill Sergeants are amazing. They act more like coaches than abusive parents (which is what I was expecting). I asked one why he chose to volunteer to be a drill sergeant and he told me that his drill sergeant had made a huge difference in his life and he wanted to do that for others.

We also witnessed the training of how to put an IV catheter lock into a vein. The recruits partner up (they call each other battle buddies) and they are instructed on how to insert a catheter into a person’s vein. While we watched, the volunteer in the front of the room fainted as they were finding his vein, and one of the recruits mumbled, “This is reassuring.” I watched the recruits performing this task on one another and I could tell they were nervous. All of them said they would rather have it done to them than do it to another. But they don’t get a choice, they have to do both.

Some of the kids look fat, but the drill sergeants say that by the time the 10 weeks of training is done, they will look completely changed. I heard stories of recruits who had GEDs not because they had any intellectual problems, but because they had family hardships where they had to drop out of school to raise siblings or help sick parents. Those kids already know the meaning of sacrifice and the Army is lucky to get them.

At the end of the 10 weeks, there is a huge graduation and the stands are filled with very proud families. They cheer as if they are at a NASCAR race and they wave flags and signs and shout out the names of their soldier. I have been told that you will get goose bumps witnessing graduation.

Our old friends that we were stationed with in the early 90’s in Germany are there and we had dinner with them. First thing Brad says to me is, “Just leave me!” This was something I yelled in Amsterdam 15 years ago as we all sprinted to catch the train. I was the slow one and no one seemed to notice I was way behind or care that I might miss the train. (This included my husband.) So I shouted, “Just leave me!” And they kept running.

We had a great time seeing Brad and Jan again. We had so much to catch up on. Our lives have all changed so much since 9/11 and we have a hard time staying in touch. But the special thing about the military is that you pick right back up where you left off and friendships last a lifetime.

I think many of the recruits I saw at Fort Jackson are learning this already.