Automotive Blogs (377)

...and I drove up to Nissan dealer in the car we got her for graduation, and her new job. Internship, well paid, at a national lab. Studying how non -random is meoitic chromosome recombination, under environmental influences, in rodent embryotic stem calls. Simple shite, that. These vehicles are amazing for those of us who drive antiques. Visit was for no charge dealer service to update programs for the posterior wieseldink release valves, and the central imposivator coupler. These cars do everything but scratch your nose. Which was my complaint to the service manager, who agreed. Chinese buffet after it all, long evening on the toilet. But over two hours on the road, got to listen to Millennial rock. K and J Pop, and lots more. Can't say I hated it, but can't say I loved this stuff either. Like my first beer---takes getting used to. Now, one thousand are not enough, and one is too many.

Flashback to the winter of 1970 and I was in a band performing at a nightclub in Daytona Beach. The gig was a week long and the management provided us a small apartment to stay at.
It was a two story building, living quarters on top and a business on the ground floor.
We were told it once was funeral home. The owner and his family occupied the apartment above.
Inside the kitchen hall was a small door in the wall that had a shelf connected by a chain that could be raised or lowered between the 2 floors. Commonly called a dumbwaiter, the access was blocked off since the apartment was no longer connected to the business below. Possibly the intent was the send food from the kitchen down and not used as a trash chute.
The business below us was a tire store and the aroma of tires leaked into the ductwork via the access door. It was a really unusual smell. Something I haven't forgotten, especially connected with a musical career at the time. As a high mileage car owner, I'm buying or getting tires serviced every few months and when I smell tires, I remember the first experience from the tire store/funeral parlor.
Yesterday, was no different. The weather in the 60's and I'm out running errands. On my list was to get my car serviced and one tire patched that had a slow leak from a nail.
Always in a hurry, I neglected tire rotation (possibly a few times) and the service adviser mention the 2 rear tires were good but the 2 front tires were down to the the wear indicators... one of those tires had a nail too close to the edge and unable to be patched.
time for new tires... I decided on 4 and not 2 as the rear tires had developed and oscillation that I recognize from previous experience. they work, but have some road noise. They still have some life to them... and no nails, so I packed them in the hatchback and will schlep them to Miami today. I'll decide if I want to keep them or give to my neighbor as his car uses the same size tire.

Expecting my car to be filled with the smell of tires, I'll head out with the windows down enjoying a Florida winter with temperatures in the 60's

Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....Coming soon....

This is an account of something that almost happened to me not that many years ago.

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Might as well get it over and done with, I thought, she isn’t going to let up until we’ve been. So we finally went on the long promised trip to the coast; wife and I. It was okay once we were under way; the weather was fine, the roads weren’t too busy and all seemed well with the World.

After an hour or so we were enjoying the beautiful North Yorkshire landscape and remarking on the charm of picture postcard villages as we passed through. No need to rush, nothing to worry about, no time table to rule us; I couldn’t think why I had been putting it off. Then, out of nowhere -and I do look in the rear view mirror quite regularly- six unnecessarily big motorbikes shot past us with a most alarming roar; they alarmed the living day lights out of me.

“F.UCKING LUNATICS!” I screamed at them, following up with a ten second blast of the horn.

They were in the far distance when they had become “crazy bastards”, and long gone by the time my heart rate had returned to normal.

I drove on, approaching each bend in the road hoping to see a flashing blue light and six mangled motorbikes on the other side of it. This, of course, I did not see, and had to make do with imagining it. We passed a road sign that read Bridlington 15 miles. Even now, at my ripe age, I still feel a twinge of excitement at my first glimpse of the sea.

With ten miles to go we passed a roadside restaurant with six motorbikes standing outside. “WANKERS!” I yelled at the riderless objects. Their riders didn’t hear me, of course, but my wife certainly did, as the force of the exclamation was enough to slightly part the hair over her right ear. There was another blast on the horn, and although any bystander would not have known what it was for, I hoped the wankers would. I soon forgot about the bikers and started to think about gentle waves dissolving on the white sands of sun kissed beaches. This reverie lasted until the next road sign displaying the word “Bridlington”, when I was abruptly snapped out of it.

I was thinking about fish and chips as we drew into the harbour car park, and how we would soon be sitting on the harbour wall eating them. British seaside fish and chips, yes siree. We stepped out of the car and I had a good stretch to the sound of screeching seagulls and the smell of fish. Yay! we’re at the seaside.

My back was to the car park entrance when the shiver ran down it, but I didn’t need to turn and look to see what was making the deep, vibrating growl that caused it, although I still did. They came gliding into the car park like ravens and stopped directly opposite us. Six leather bound riders dismounted and turned to face us, and although I couldn’t see their eyes through their visors, I knew they were all looking at me.

Oh the relief when they took off their helmets and I saw that those of them who still had hair were crowned in snowy white. Two of them walked round in small circles, slightly bent at the waist and holding their backs. There was a moment of slight anxiety as they all strode purposefully towards me, but they all hurried on past in a dash towards the public toilets at the edge of the car park. Wankers, I thought to myself.

I was the first car at a red light.
My bumper was at the line that indicates where to stop.
A car behind me was really close, so I moved up about a foot.
He moved up a foot too!
I moved up another foot... and he moved another foot.
I moved about 3 inches and... he moved 3 inches.

Serious... this guy has some issues.

I took my foot off the brake, didn't move this time and applied the brake again.
Thinking I was moving up, he moved even closer!

My plan was to see how many times I could get him to move up but the light turned green.
Yeah, I was tempted to wait a few seconds... but I didn't.

I waffle when it comes to this topic but tend to hold a nihilistic view. I appreciate life--mostly, but I've yet to find it meaningful.

For all I know DNA is an intergalactic parasite that's been stranded here on earth and has been using a process that we know as "evolution" to get itself off the planet.


So anyway, I binge-watched After Life on Netflix. If not for it being a product of a fairly well-known atheist, Ricky Gervais, I probably wouldn't have given it a second look. The episodes by themselves weren't especially profound but as a whole, I thought it was, well, brilliant. Sure, maybe nothing new in the way of a story but the perspective, characters and jokes drew me in and before I knew it, I'd watched 6 episodes!

What I took from it: Purpose and direction may not add up to meaning, but they can be enough to make tomorrow worthwhile...and that, at least for today, should keep me from jumping off the roof.

After the days of a Camel
Came a Hairball
And betwixt
Many others

Each
INDIVIDUALS
Summed up as
ONE
As if to think independently is unique

But, the fact remains
We are free to create and be
Because this may be the only place
To express our true selves
Even if it takes multiple profiles to do so

since I have internet back, I like to lose myself in some visual stimulation. I enjoy movies in particular but like a good series if it is limited to a few seasons. the shelf life just isn't worth it to me unless it's particularly riveting. open and shut cases, I suppose. unfortunately, most of the stuff on Netflix are series. this sort of drives me nuts. I don't feel like investing a million hours on a storyline. I like a 2 hour tale that I can watch before or after work. otherwise, I can't sit still through the whole series of episodes without stepping away to do laundry or the bathroom or grab another cup of coffee. for this reason, I don't know how the character Crystal got killed off on the revamp or Dynasty. No, I won't replay the episode...i'll just move on with my life...

I’m so inclined to text my customer back. The idea of buying a full carat diamond for the price of a 3/4 or 1/2 diamond price at my experience is really ticking me off. Sure, they have a budget. It’s not a mystery that a car salesperson works entirely on a commission. You buyers expect me to make nothing so you get what you want fukc all the rest? Please, get over yourselves and buy what you can afford. I’m sick of it and pretty close to saying it to the next jerk. I would rather starve like I already am than cater to your idiotic sense of entitlement.