On the Road Again

The reunion was good. It was indeed a long drive to Plattsburgh, New York, but the return home was much longer. We had just reentered the USA from Canada on Interstate 69 when our radiator decided to die. I noticed that the 'Check Engine' light had come on and almost simultaneously, Amy pointed out that the thermostat needle had spiked. We pulled off the highway immediately. I opened the hood and the coolant reservoir was full of boiling liquid. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes until both the radiator and the reservoir were bone dry.

We called for a tow and after a thirty minute wait we found ourselves at a garage. After another hour, the mechanics insisted that they had found nothing wrong. Thankfully, the garage had not charged us for their time because we weren't on the road again for more than ten minutes until it became obvious that the problem was recurring. We had been closely monitoring the status of the engine temperature and it was slowly, but steadily creeping higher the further we drove.

Not knowing what else to do, we consulted the owner's manual a final time in an attempt to find any useful information. Luckily, the manual did indeed have a good tip that got us home without any more major incidents. Basically, we drove the remining seven hours home in 85 degree weather with the fan on its highest setting, the heat cranked, and the windows down. This rerouted the heat from the engine to a different system and kept it cool enough to be run for longer periods of time. At first I was a little worried that this solution was only a patch fix that made things seem ok on the surface, so I called my dad, who was also on the road returning home from the reunion, but he reassured me that we were fine to drive the rest of the way home with while cranking the heat. We did stop more often to give the engine a break, though. In all, the 15 hour trip turned into 20 hours pretty quickly.

In the end, we had the radiator replaced and the car is running well again. However, we are going to start shopping for a new car soon. I don't know how we'll afford it since we just spent so much money on the kitchen, but I don't feel 100% secure taking it on too many long trips. I think trips to western Pennsylvania are about as far as we'll be going for now until we find a new car.

After that incident, we headed for Cancun, Mexico from Friday, July 28th until August 1st. It was a welcome, relaxing break. The weather there was acutally cooler than it was here, but we didn't discover that until the pilot of our returning flight announced that the local temperature was 99 degrees Fahrenheit. Compared to the ninety degree days spent in the ocean breeze, the hundred degree days in an asphalt jungle were kind of shock.

We are now back home to stay, though. At least until we return to Grove City for Amy's brother's wedding.

Bucket of Bolts

The car repair bill has gone from being a drop in the bucket of our expenditures this month to a full-blown, recognizable percentage of them. On my way to pick Amy up from the Cubs game last night, I was driving on Devon when a flapping noise began eminating from under the hood. I knew immediately that it was one of the belts. As I began to smell something burning, the racket quickly got worse until it sounded as if whatever belt was flapping was literally tearing itself away from the pulleys. It eventually stopped making noise, but while there was no obvious repercussions from the hardware failure that took place, I knew it should be checked quickly.

So, I took the car back to the garage this morning. They examined the situation further and determined that the harmonic stabalizer needs to be replaced. Of course, the part itself is over seven hundred dollars. They'll give us a break on the labor since we've been faithful customers so that won't amount to more than fifty dollars. Still, I can't help being at least a little resentful that the unit picked now to fail out of all the possible times available. Plus, I'm not sure how long they will need to fix the problem. We're supposed to have the cabinets delivered tomorrow, so I need the car to be able to get home quickly to meet the deliverers. We'll figure something out, but this could be going much more smoothly if this automotive failure had not occurred.

Kountdown to a Kitchen

In a perfect kind of synchronicity, our car has decided that it needs some service mere days after we poured thousands of dollars into a remodelling project. The bill is only a tiny drop in the bucket of the cost of the new kitchen, but I'd still be happier if we didn't have to spend anything at all. At the very least, we will see some of the fruits of our expenditures as the cabinets arrive on Friday. We have also finalized our choice of electrician and my mind is at ease knowing that he comes so well referred from Jordan. I am excited to see this project commence, knowing that we should be in a brand new kitchen by the first half of June. The pictures will be coming shortly but not to this site. I will send them via email to those of you who actually wish to see them.

I have been yearning for some new music recently and have been pointed in the direction of two bands that are new to me, one contemporary and one very old. Yonder Mountain String Band is a blue/newgrass outfit that I had not heard of before this week. They are not as influenced by jazz as, say, Bela Fleck and the Flecktones, but I have noticed that they will open for BFatF as part of their tour schedule. I have also been pointed towards Cannon's Jug Stompers. You can grab one of their most successful songs in mp3 format here. You might recognize it.

Speaking of old things, I turn 31 on Saturday. I know I'm getting older when some of those around me don't get the pop culture references I make. Time to get the black socks out and sit on my front lawn with the hose. Also, the Green has officially been around for two years. I can stick with some things as long as they're pointless.

I Hope I'm Not Licorice

Today I wondered what life would be like if I were a jelly bean. How would I know what I tasted like? How would I go about discovering what my taste was? After all, I would have no mouth, no tongue to sample any of my fruity, sugary goodness. And, as we all know, there are spice flavored jelly beans, popcorn flavored jelly beans, and thanks to the Harry Potter juggernaut, even vomit flavored jelly beans. How do I know I'm not one of those repulsive flavors?

In some way, this might be an interesting metaphor for life and how we as humans try to justify our existence by giving ourselves purposes like goals and dreams or imagine some other omnipotent celestial being imparting purpose on us. On the other hand, it's really only a stupid thought that someone might have while trapped in the sticky throes of boredom.

No matter what flavor I am, it doesn't change the fact that we hit a huge pothole last night with our car, more specifically, the left front wheel. When I say "hit", I mean it. It was the kind of impact where you'll take the first opportunity to pull off of the road and inspect the inevitable damage, which we did. The edge of the wheel was actually bent. Bent, I say! So, in the middle of a large rain storm, we put the donut on once more, not a month after we did exactly the same thing on our return trip to Chicago from holiday vacation.

As it turns out, and thankfully so, the only real damage that occurred was that topical damage to the wheel which was fixed free of charge this morning by our regular garage. Aesthetically, the car sort of lost a visible tooth. The wheel cover no longer fits on the wheel because of the trauma it sustained. The plastic is now gouged and warped beyond hope. But, in the grand scheme of things, a wheel cover is a small thing, especially when we considered that we only have about two more years with this car, speaking realistically. By that time, we'll be approaching the 200K mile mark, and at that point, I would think that the car's retirement might be in order.

Merry Car-Xmas

Amy and I were returning home on Tuesday night last week when the "check engine" light on the dashboard winked on. We've had problems with the oil light flicking on and off intermittently so we waited a couple of days to see if this problem would also seem to lean towards electrical system failure rather than actual engine trouble. To keep this story concise, the light never went out so we took the car to the mechanic for a diagnostic test. As it turned out, the oxygen sensors had gone bad. For the mechanically inclined, I did indeed indicate more than one sensor. Also by chance, our car was manufactured in California where the emissions laws are more strict thereby requiring two oxygen sensors rather than one. So, all in all it was about $600 in wallet damage, which is still within our annual budget to keep the car running. But with Christmas on the way, that extra $600 does put a good-sized dent in our assets.

I wonder what my Christmas bonus will be. Possible enrollment in the jelly of the month club?

Currently listening to: Nullsleep, I Love U (...Both of U)