Turkey, Chicken, Duck and other Fowl Words

 Living in a rural area comes with it's share of challenges. One of those challenges is crappy roads. Another challenge is crap left IN THE MIDDLE of the crappy roads. 

The Queen left home at 5:50AM early last week to head to her newish part time job. She was not gone five minutes before the phone rang, and she indicated she had a flat tire. I asked where she was; and, before I could get her location out of her, she indicated that all 4 tires were still inflated after all but that something was making a racket. I told her to come back home, and I'd meet her outside to see what's what. 

The road we live on is straight as an arrow, and I can see almost all the way down to the intersection with the main drag about a half mile away. I stood at the end of the driveway; and, from the time I could see her headlights, I could hear something smacking the asphalt rythymically all the way back to me. 

And what did I find my curious eyes behold when The Queen came to a stop?

Well...that's not good. I wasn't awake enough to deal with that before sunrise. So, The Queen took my truck, and I set about scratching my head, grumbling under my breath and breaking out my floor jack. Fortunately, I am a smart fart that knows to buy road hazard certificates on his tires. So, I loaded the wheel and tire into the back of my mother's car and dropped it off at Discount Tire during lunch. They had it fixed before I even made it back to the house. 

I went through the same area where The Queen got her "flat" later in the day. I say "flat" because it actually held air pretty well despite having a spark plug sticking out of it. THIS is what I found scattered around the main intersection in our little town. 

Knowing how things operate around here, someone left a box of junk in the bed of their truck or sitting in their bumper when it bounced out at just the right moment to land in the path of The Queen's Chariot. 

It wasn't even a few days later when I got another call from The Queen. It seems that The Queen had found herself another object in the middle of the road. This time it happened on her way to the store. Fortunately for me, it was after work and daylight still. Even more fortunately, the temperatures had dropped down into the high 90s instead of the mid 110s they were the previous week. So, I grab my floor jack, mechanic gloves and a few other odds and ends that I knew might be helpful before heading off to town to change a tire. I arrived to find this. 

Bugger. Fortunately for me (again) it was approaching sundown, and the truck was parked in the shade cast by a building to the west. There was a faint breeze that helped the temps just a little. It took a little bit of doing to find all the fiddly bits to get get the truck jacked up (the flat had dropped the front end so much that my floor jack would not clear the bumper), the spare dropped, etc. Another small blessing was that the spare still had plenty of air (70 PSI out of a max of 80 PSI) despite being the original spare (with a 2012 date code). I keep an air pump in the truck just in case. 

Now I just need to find my plug kit and remove whatever the Hell that is so I can put my good Michelin back where it belongs. I'm going to have to mount magnets in front of my tires if this keeps up. 

More Adventures in Automotive Repair

6 groove belt decided it really identified as a 4 groove belt

Back in September, I was getting the family SUV ready for a road trip when I discovered that the drive belt (what we used to call a fan belt back in the day) when I discovered, for the second year in a row, that the drive belt was getting eaten. It was a little further along the path to destruction this time, and I'm reasonably sure that it would have come apart at the most inconvenient of times in the middle of nowhere late at night. Fortunately, I had a spare in the back (which I now need to replace come to think of it). 

The next set of photos come from an OOPS moment brought on by one to the stupidest trends: lowered and "stanced" cars. Late August/Early September, we went to our favorite breakfast place (Seven Mile Cafe in Highland Village...freaking amazing pancakes especially the cinnamon swirl pancake). Anyidiot, as we are pulling into the parking lot, I see the Black Scion pictured below limping into a parking spot dragging the rear bumper cover and grinding the frame on the pavement. 

Since I didn't see the precipitating event, I can only speculate. However, based on the damage and the drag marks in the pavement, it appears to me that the car was equipped with an aftermarket air bag suspension to get over bumps in the road like acorns and pieces of paper. It appeared to me that the air pump in the suspension failed as they were exiting the car wash next door resulting in the bumper cover getting yanked off and forcing them to grind their way to a parking spot. 

Now, I have nothing against people modifying their cars as long as it does not present a safety hazard to the general public. You do you. The modifications here, in my opinion, represent a safety hazard that should be confined to a show car or a track car as opposed to a street car. First, the suspension modifications make it difficult to go up and down even slight grades, speed bumps, etc. as evidenced by the rear bumper cover being torn off in a parking lot that normal cars have no problems with. The air bags are great....when they work. Unfortunately, they add in additional failure points that do not exist with the stock set up. 

Second, the wheels and tires. Using wider tires for more grip is an age old racing trick. Using tires that are a size or two too small for the rims...not so much. Lowering the suspension to the point that you have the wheel hubs have to be at canted to max camber angles eliminates the benefit of wider tires (specifically more contact patch on the road). There's the uneven tire wear to consider. And, most importantly, you can float that sucker in heavy rains no matter how much tread you have on the tires. Let's also not forget the damage to the frame. After grinding off whatever frame coating Toyota uses, the frame is now exposed to the elements and will rust if you spit in it's general direction. I wouldn't be surprised if that frame were to buckle in 3 to 5 years. 

Bottom line, don't do this kind of stuff and then use it as a daily driver. If you've got that much extra cash burning a hole in your pocket, invest in a truck and trailer to haul it to events if you need that much attention in your life. 

I Will Never Know...

I was at Total Wine a few days ago to get a bottle or two for The Queen. While there, I spotted this. 

According to the Glenfiddich website, that is a 70 centiliter bottle. The Google conversion math wizard says that converts to 24 ounces more or less.  So, a wee dram of that Sccotch is just a touch over $1583 an ounce. 

Blink, blink. 

That drink was distilled and casked in the year I was born give or take a year or two. As curious as I am to find out how it tastes, I never will. I can't even bring myself to spend more than $30 for a bottle of wine. No way I'm ever going to be able to buy a bottle of Scotch that costs more than every car I've ever owned. 

Still though...any one wanting to gift me a tumbler full can reach out to me through the blog. I'll even say real nice things about the benefactor. 

You've Never Really Lived...

...until you've vacuumed your back yard.

I know it sounds like a really messed up punishment you'd give a kid for some epic screw up, but this really happened recently.

You see, several years ago, The Queen convinced me we needed patio furniture. Pro tip to all: patio furniture should be made out of dimensional lumber. Anything else is a waste of money. Case on point to follow.

The Queen, being a serious shopper when she sets her mind to it, found a listing on Craigslist for a little out of the way shop that had a set up patio furniture for sale for a stupid low price. If you've ever priced patio furniture at a big box store, you know dropping a kilo buck is not uncommon for "decent" patio furniture. I forget the exact price, but I think it was sub $500. This is almost Guido "It Fell Off The Truck" territory, but we checked the place out and it was legit.

Any deal, one of the selling points for The Queen regarding this particular set of patio furniture was that the table had a glass top. Pro Tip Numero Dos: Never, EVER, buy a glass top patio table in North Texas (where hail storms with baseball or larger hail are a regular thing). Luckily, for me at least, this set of patio furniture managed to dodge several hail storms and even one tornado. Unfortunately, time and weather had not been kind to this set of furniture. Texas heat is brutal, rain rusts metal, things break and get lost...you get the picture.

So, after about a decade of service, we put the patio furniture aside for eventual disposal and/or repurposing.

Well, along came the dogs. Two dogs who'd never met a free range bunny in the backyard before. They really wanted to get to know Taco a lot better. Taco was less than thrilled with that idea.

So, The Queen decreed that a barrier must be erected to separate Taco and the pups. A trip to Home Depot and the parting of  $80 to$100 of my cash later, and we had a barrier. Of sorts. The dogs, managed to defeat my best efforts at fencing on a distressingly regular basis. Part of the problem was that we had to have a gate to allow access to the Taco side of the fence. This was the weakness that the dogs exploited. The Queen had a light bulb moment, and the table top from the patio furniture was pressed into service as a sliding gate supplement.

It did not end well.

Roughly 3' x 7' of shattered glass

One fine summer day, the weather turned nasty in a hurry with winds blowing storms in toot sweet. That lovely slab of glass patio table top toppled over and immediately fragmented into about a million little pieces of super sharp silicon.

Well, I needed an excuse to by a shop vac. I just never guessed it would be to vacuum the yard.

How to Offend a Snowflake

Honestly, I didn't set out to offend anyone. Really. I have very little trouble getting along with people. In hindsight, I should have expected what happened given the forum. Like a lot of people, I have a personal Facebook page. Facebook , in their infinite wisdom, has labeled me extremely conservative which I find a tad presumptuous that they would assume my political leanings based on my postings. Apparently, they find no irony in hypocrisy. But, whatever.

Anywho, around about a couple of months ago, we were out for a family outing, and I saw something that I found amusing and posted same to The Book of Feces. Said post was as follows:

"Just saw a woman wearing a “Notorious RBG” (Ruth Bader Ginsberg) t-shirt. I never noticed until now that RBG bears a striking resemblance to Don Knotts."

The t-shirt in question was more or less this one:

For comparison, here is a photo of Don Knotts:

Boy howdy, I didn't expect this in response:

"Wow. I hope when I'm judge in my old age, people look at my loving treatment of  my family, my exceptional education, my contribution to my work groups, and not my looks (even though I do take very good care of myself physically and aesthetically). So fun being judged! In Christian tradition I thought this was frowned upon?"

Um....okay. This person is someone I went to high school with; and, to be honest, I cannot recall ever having a class with her or knowing her back then. I (foolishly, in retrospect) accepted her friend request when I got connected up with my 30 year high school reunion Facebook page. She lives in either Denver or Boulder Colorado, is pretty proud of her looks from the number of selfies she posts and hates Trump. You can safely assume her political leanings. I won't be offended.

And, now for the rest of the story.

My response:

"I’m not sure what about my post gave you the impression that I was in any way judging RBG or overlooking her accomplishments, education, etc. However, nothing could be further from the truth. While I disagree with her politically, I said nothing negative or judgmental about her. Further, I fail to see how commenting that one person bears a resemblance to another person is judgmental or critical or unchristian. If I had said that she resembled someone or something and then stated a negative connotation with that statement, then I could see you inference having some validity. As it is, you have judged me based on an assumption that you made that I was somehow implying a resemblance to Don Knotts was somehow a negative reflection on RBG. So, go put your stones away and go have a look in the mirror for the log in your own eye."

Her retort:

"Then what do you gain by posting a hilarious and derogatory comparison if not to be judging?"

My Rebuttal and Final Word:

"Why do you judge me by assuming that I’m making a hilarious and derogatory comparison? Did I say that the resemblance was hilarious? No. Did I say that the resemblance was in any way derogatory? No. Did I say anything Judgmental AT ALL about RBG? Not one word. That is all you reading something into two sentences worth of text.

The truth of the matter is that my father-in-law has watched The Andy Griffith Show every night for the last two years, and my wife, daughter and I watched The Incredible Mr. Limpet the other day. Both of which have Don Knotts in prominent roles. When I saw the t-shirt, I thought the face belonged to Don Knotts, and it was only after I figured out what the words on the T-shirt said from a distance of 20 feet away that I realized it was a picture of RBG. So, pardon me for sharing an innocent observation."

She chose to shut up after that. Surprisingly, she didn't unfriend me either.

Speaking of Product Testers...

Chester recently went in for his lopitoffame procedure. Poor guy. He'd really taken a...special...liking to his sister. Alas, their love will be forever a strictly platonic love from now on.

Any incest...

As you would expect, Chester was sent home wearing the cone of shame.

Higher than a kite, but getting great reception. 

He was so pathetic that first day. He'd go outside and try to sniff out a spot in the yard to pee. Trot, trot, trot, head down, cone/face plant, screeching halt, SNIFF!! Lift head, watch leaves and dirt fall out of the cone. Lather, rinse, repeat. After the drugs wore off though...

He didna like it.

Not one bit.

So, being an avid DIY type and closet Pinterest scanner, we gave the pool noodle "clown collar" a go. My niece, I Do It, had reported good success with Chester's brother Doc using a clown collar a few weeks previously.

This is actually version 2.0. Version 1.0 was the same color but using a smaller diameter noodle. The smaller noodle was an immediate fail defeated by Chester's long neck and tongue in seconds. Well, version 2.0 didn't fare any better. So, we attempted a version 3.0 by doubling up the narrower and larger diameter noodles.

Guess what? Version 3.0 was also defeated by the same long neck and tongue as previous models. So, on the recommendation of a friend, I decided to give one of the inflatable collars a go.

This one, in fact. Cost me $40 bucks or so at Pet(not so)Smart. Note the little black strap? It's supposed to be attached to the collar. That feature didn't even last five minutes.

Looks pretty big all inflated, don't it?

Guess what? They don't do squat when they've been aggressively deflated. 10 minutes was all it took him to have that sucker destroyed. The Queen managed to super glue the puncture holes shut, but it was a lost cause at that point.

It was off again in not time. We gave up. Fortunately, he'd healed enough by that point that it was better than even odds that he wouldn't kill himself.

I want my $40 bucks back though. Stupid dogs.

Miscellaneous, Randomness and Other Stuff

In no particular order, I thought I would open the tap a little bit and relieve some pressure in the blog material accumulator before things get too jumbled up.

In the Frankensteinian "Fire Bad!" category, Number One Follower had an unfortunate incident in his home shop a while back. To add insult to misfortune, it was were the bulk of his firearms and associated accessories were stored. Neither NOF nor his wife were home at the time. Fortunately, a neighbor called NOF and the fire department before things got too out of control. That also triggered calls from NOF to the FD that there was ammunition and such in the shop. I also got a call to come assist with removing items as necessary. The fire department investigator said the fire was accidental. Based on the area of origin, the most likely culprit is faulty/damaged wiring. The good news is that NOF has pretty good insurance and should come out of the deal in pretty good shape overall. 

Formerly a plastic shelving unit full of ammunition. 

Ruger Precision Rifle with heat damaged barrel

The Queen and I decided it was high time for some one on one quality time not too long ago. We love our daughter, M&M dearly and will and have taken her pretty much everywhere with us. So, it was not much of a surprise to either of us that it had been more than 7 years since the two of us had taken  solo getaway. Plans were hatched, and we hoped in The Queen's chariot for a long weekend jaunt down to Corpus Christi. I should make a brief side note here. Anytime The Queen is in the car, her eyes are invariably drawn to animals in distress. This trip was no different. I was in the passenger seat, head down, working (being able to work from literally anywhere there is a half way decent cellular data connection has huge advantages for me) when I hear a gasp from the driver's seat.

I asked what the function was, and The Queen informed me that she saw a cat in the center median of the highway. Said highway being 1-35 in Kyle, TX just south of Austin which is six lanes of NAFTA's main thoroughfare in the US. So, I told The Queen to flip a U-turn at the next exit and go back in search of the feline. The Queen was conflicted for a moment between her concern for the cat and her desire not to ruin our trip. I reminded her that, if we did not make efforts to resolve the mystery of said feline's fate, The Queen would spend the rest of the trip worrying about it.

After a failed first attempt to relocate the fur ball, we were able reacquire the ungrateful fur turd cat on The Queen's pet radar with the second north/south U-turn circuit. Not wanting to spook the cat into running into the highway and also being fairly certain that the center median was not wide enough for the chariot, I had The Queen Park in the outside shoulder. After assessing the chances of making it across and back more or less in one piece, I found a narrow window in traffic through which I could reasonably shamble across three lanes of interstate without getting flattened by a semi or causing a soccer mom to panic stop a mini van.

Then, I began the process of trying to convince Kitty McDeathwish that I was a really nice guy who was not with the government but "here to help.(TM)" After a couple of tentative crouching duck walks and sidling shuffles, I was able to get within sniffing distance of the cat. He/she/it? (we were never on first gender basis with each other) gave me a cursory sniff before allowing me to touch its head briefly before retreating back out of arms length. After several more tense moments of getting back into arm's length and watching traffic (you'd be surprised at how many people can't stay between the lines [I'm looking at you white Ford SUV...you're lucky I didn't slash your tires]), I spotted a window in the traffic that offered a reasonable chance of success, grabbed a double handful of fur, and commenced to hoofing it back across the highway. The cat was pissed off thoroughly unamused and expressed its displeasure by trying to eviscerate my arm. Fortunately,  my wind breaker took most of the  abuse. Once we reached the grassy shoulder, I engaged the catapult and released it in the tall grass of the shoulder fully realizing we weren't done with the rescue yet.

Your Truly, trying to garner the trust of a feral cat and questioning my life choices.

After assuring myself that I was not bleeding to death and retrieving a bottle of water and a wet wipe from the car to wash the cat spit off my arm and out of the puncture wounds, I returned to my efforts to complete the rescue of the bag full of razor blades just in time to receive the assistance of one of Kyle PD's finest. We had to herd the cat (literally) to a spot where we could grab it. I got a grip on it just before it tried to imitate a speed bump in the highway again. This time, the cat got up under the sleeve of my jacket and did it's level best to chew my arm off. I handed the ugly, pointy thing off to the officer who, wisely, was wearing mechanics gloves and a bullet proof vest. He escorted the cat across the service road into the woods on the other side where it was released into the relative safety of the country side.

No good deed goes unpunished.

After thanking the officer and stopping the bleeding (again), we made tracks to the nearest Starbucks for a more thorough clean up with hot water in the restroom. I'll be darned if those puncture wounds didn't bleed most of the rest of the day. They were pretty tender for the next several days too. As of this writing a couple of weeks post rescue, I still have one puncture that is still scabbed over and serving as a reminder to wear armor and bring tazers when dealing with stray cats.

M&M continues to grow like a weed. She just finished the second grade, she got a gold medal at her piano theory test, auditioned for the national piano guild and is generally continuing to be her amazing self.

Tinkle and Taco keeping a watchful eye on the pups. 

The puppies are also growing like weeds. They are inseparable. Literally. Take one away, and they both whine and cry like they've been beaten. This, of course, creates cute and humorous moments.

Dawww...the cute version of spooning

The funny version of  spooning

Oma's Alzheimer's continues its inevitable march down the drain. While generally happy when she is riding in the car or watching TV with Opa, she has developed a stubborn and belligerent streak when asked/told to do something she does not want to do...which is pretty much anything other than ride in a car or watch TV. She has also rediscovered cursing; and, while not ideal, we are thankful she latched on to "Sh*t!" instead of the universal adjective.

Lastly, we were sad to learn this past week of the passing of a long term church acquaintance of ours. I have known/been acquainted with this family for over 20 years now, and my wife has known them even longer. The family is no one special in terms of wealth or fame. They are just good people. When The Queen was going through her mystery illness and I was stuck commuting between Dallas and Houston because of work, I would call the husband semi-regularly just to have someone to talk to on the long drive. They had six kids who are all grown now.  We found out a while back that the wife had been diagnosed with cancer; and, more recently, we found out that she was bedridden and on hospice care. We took a "day off" from work to drive out to their place to visit (they live a couple hours east of us), catch up and generally give encouragement in whatever way we could.

During our visit, the wife said something that really struck me as profound. She was talking about how her bedridden state has left her totally at the mercy of others for her care most of which falls to her husband. The thing that struck me was when she said this was not what she had in mind when they said their marriage vows. She said this was not what she wanted for her husband to have to care for her and clean her and watch her in that state.

That got me to thinking. Most people say their marriage vows without ever really thinking about what they are promising or giving even a moment's thought about what the future may hold. I know I didn't really comprehend it at the time either. Everyone focuses on the "to have and to hold" and forgets about the "in sickness and in health" or "for richer or for poorer" parts of the vows. She told us that she had to learn the hard way what those vows really meant. The Queen and I understood what she meant.

She passed away peacefully surrounded by her family. I know her husband would trade anything to have her back with him and healthy, but they fulfilled their marriage vows in every sense of the word. That's increasingly rare these days. I count myself blessed to have my Queen by my side as we continue fulfilling our vows.

Election Results

Dear Outgoing Speaker of the House Paul Ryan,

Congratulations genius. You and your establishment buddies managed to screw up a conservative’s wet dream. You had full control of all three branches of government, and you still couldn’t unbugger the mess in Washington.

Why am I blaming you and not President Trump? Simple. Trump’s power is limited to enforcement of the laws you give him to work with and exercising the bully pulpit to champion his own agenda. Yeah, yeah…executive orders. I’ll see your excuse, and I’ll raise you an accusation that it’s Congress’ fault that “a pen and a phone” is all that’s necessary to get around the Constitution these days. You can thank your predecessors for that one (Gulf of Tonkin Resolution ringing any bells?), and you and your spineless buddies have done nothing to correct the problem since.

Go enjoy your fat, Congressional pension in retirement you useless bag of warm spit. Thanks for nothing.

Dear Incoming (again) Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi,

Congratulations on regaining the gavel you hollow eyed, former hippie, walking argument in favor of term limits. Now that you have your toy back, what are you going to do with it? I’d strongly recommend against wasting my hard earned money on investigations that are going to go exactly nowhere. Impeachment? Not happening. You don’t have the votes in the Senate. Besides, if you investigate Trump, you damn well better investigate Hillary unless you want your gavel taken away from you (again).  

Here’s another suggestion: ever hear the saying “a rising tide floats all boats”? How about working in the country’s best interests for a change instead of lining your own pockets and those of your billionaire donor class puppet masters?

How about an observation, which should be obvious to everyone, for you too. 2016 is over. Too bad, so sad that The Donald made a mess of Queen Hillary’s ascension to the throne. Deal with it and move on. You’re stuck with him just like we are stuck with you. To quote your messiah, Barry Obama the Organizer, “Elections have consequences.” You want to keep a firm grip on that gavel? How about starting with admitting that ACA should never have seen the light of day to begin with and push for its repeal. Do that and actually honor your oath of office for a change, and you might just get to die in office like McCain did.

While we are on the subject of the [un]Affordable Care Act, it was an unconstitutional disaster of a law intentionally designed to fail so that you and your wannabe socialist buddies could usher in socialized medicine. Haven’t you kept track of the news? Socialism DOES NOT ^%$##$%^&*!!! WORK. Socialism requires massive amounts of OTHER PEOPLES’ MONEY! The only reason Europe has a halfway functioning socialist democracy is because it receives MASSIVE amounts of foreign aid from the UNITED STATES. Without US money and military presence (allowing Europe to spend less on defense), Europe would be on its way to being Venezuela.

Last suggestion: how about you start acting like a leader and stop demonizing the half of the country that disagrees with you and your party? While you are at it, a leader holds their own people accountable for mistakes, transgressions and outright, flagrant violations of the law. Get your flashlight out and poke into the corners of Hillary Clinton’s email server and Diane Feinstein’s driver for starters.

Good luck, I’ll be praying for you, and feel free to check back for more suggestions. I’ve got plenty to go around.

Sincerely,

Daddy Hawk, A Humble (broke) Taxpayer

Buyer Beware

Once upon a time, around about the end of August last year, the fuel pump on The Queen's chariot went Tango Uniform. Come to find out, it's a fairly well known issue that Ford fuel pumps eventually take a dirt nap after the electrical connector in the fuel pump housing melts. Most fuel pumps installed in the gas tanks use the gasoline to keep the pump cool. Run the tanks down too low, and you have nothing to cool the pump which contributes to the electrical connectors melting resulting in fuel pump failure.

Look at the melted plastic where the red arrow is.

Guess who has a tendency to run the fuel tank down "0 miles to empty"? 

Here's another question for you: where does Ford mount the fuel pump?

If you answered "inside the fuel tank under the [expletive deleted] 6000 pound SUV", you win the "sweat your ass off in the Texas heat on a crappy asphalt driveway" award. This is not a job you look forward to doing twice. 

So, on with our story. Auto parts stores wanted $250 to $300 for a replacement fuel pump. Since I was still recovering from being laid off (again), $250 to $300 is a lot when you're pinching pennies. I went looking for a better deal, and located a new pump on eBay for $72. The seller had good feedback. The listing indicated that So, money was paid and a fuel pump arrived. After a late night of laying on crumbling asphaly under the SUV in the "cool" evening temperatures of 90 degrees with naught but a headlamp to light my way, the fuel pump was in and working. 

For a time. 

A week ago Sunday, the "new" pump decided it was a perfect day to die. 

I reached out to the eBay seller to see about getting the pump replaced under warranty:

"I purchased a fuel pump for a 2007 Lincoln Navigator in August 2017 from CN Batteries. It appears that the pump failed yesterday (pending confirmation). What is the warranty replacement policy/process?"

Polite. Reasonable. To the point.

The response I received was confusing:

"ok,we know,how about you pay $70,we will send you a new one,is it ok?

regards"

Huh?? Now, my English isn't always the best, but my guess is that English isn't this person's strongest subject. 

I decided to seek clarification:

"Your reply makes no sense. I purchased a fuel filter from you via eBay less than 6 months ago for $71.99. That fuel pump has now failed, and you are suggesting that I send you $70 and you will send me another one? Seriously? Is that your idea of a joke? 

I just got done doing the diagnostic testing. There is power to the engine compartment power distribution box, and the fuel pump fuse and relay are both good. However, there is no sound of the pump pressurizing when I turn the ignition key to the on position. In all likelihood, when I go through the trouble of pulling the dropping the tank to get to the pump I bought from you out of the tank, I am betting the pump is going to turn out to be bad. Your eBay listing indicates the pump comes with a 12 month warranty. Warranties generally mean replacement of defective products within the warranty period. We are well within the warranty period. So, again, what exactly is covered by the warranty you say your product comes with and what is the process to get a replacement?"

Perhaps I'm getting a little peaved a this point.

CN-Batteries doubled down with the following reply:

"ok,we know
the only way to get the replacement is to pay us $69
if you don't pay the money,we can't send you the replacement freely,hope you understand
regards"

Now, I'm not an unreasonable person, but this is moving the needle from a little peaved to not a happy camper. 

I strongly urge them to reconsider the error of their ways with this:

"No, I don't understand. Your product listing indicates the pump has a 1 year warranty. Does your product have a 1 year warranty or not? If it does not contrary to what your listing clearly states in the "item specifics" section of the listing, you are engaging in false advertising. If it does, how can you justify first asking for $70 and now $69 to replace a defective product under warranty. If you do not provide a proper explanation immediately, I will have no choice but to post this entire exchange on social media and escalate this issue to eBay for resolution."

They, for reasons which I cannot fathom, are either too blind to see the error of their ways or incapable of repentence as evidenced by their next reply:

"This is our company policy

the only way to get the replacement is to pay us $69
if you don't pay the money,we can't send you the replacement freely,hope you understand
regards"

Well, even an unhappy camper should give one last chance:

"Your company policy is in direct contradiction with the terms of your listing. As previously stated, your eBay listing states the product has a 1 year warranty. You are required under the eBay Selling Practices Policy "...to meet the expectations you've set in your listing." You have created an expectation that there is a one year warranty on the product sold. I don't know what warranty means where you come from, but where I come from warranty does not mean requiring a purchaser of a defective product to pay $2 less than full price to get a replacement under warranty. Since you obviously have no intention of honoring your warranty or living up to your other false promise of 100% buyer satisfaction, you leave me no choice but to escalate this to eBay and publish this entire exchange via social media in the hopes that other consumers will not fall victim to your unscrupulous business practices."

Well, I did warn them.  

So, don't expect CN-Batteries to honor their warranty. Don't expect their fuel pumps to last through their alleged warranty period. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go lay down in some crumbling asphalt under a 6000 pound SUV again. At least it's not 90 degrees out this time. 

Blogger, I Hate You

I just spent the better part of an hour drafting and editing some content. Blogger blinks, and...poof. No more content. An hour of work wasted.

Friggin' programmable toaster....grumble....it's free, but that's no excuse....snarl...a pox of flaming monkeys on your keyboard....

I'm going to take my allergy clogged head to bed. I might get motivated to try again tomorrow. I might now.

It's That Time Of Year Again

I went to Lowe's with Mimi 3 days before Halloween.  There were three or four rows plus the main area at the front of the store full of Christmas decorations. There was a very small area of Thanksgiving decorations on clearance. Something is wrong with this picture. Just saying.

Fold, Spindle & Mutilate

So, I got this package in the mail today. The company I am currently temping through thought it would be a good idea to send me a birthday present. I wasn't expecting it since I don't spend a lot of time thinking about my birthday or the fact that I'm on a one way banana peel ride that ends in a pile of ashes. So, kudos to the company for sending a token gift.

The U.S. Postal Service, however, gets no such kudos.

Before I show you the results of the expert package handling skills of the USPS, we must first set the stage.

When I opened the package, there was a lovely birthday card upon which some anonymous staffer had handwritten a birthday greeting. There were a few pieces of candy for enjoyment. A business card...presumably in case I forgot who sends the paychecks.

And this...

Drinkware you say?

There was some rather suspicious rattling in the packaging which I initially attributed to the aforementioned candy. Imagine my amusement when I saw this come out of the package.

It was drinkware-like at one time

Sadly, the tips for enhancing the enjoyment of my new drinkware were rendered moot.

It was the thought that counts I suppose.

Not Fishy At All

So, the job search continues. I've been getting actual face time with real live human beings here lately, and I am hopeful that one of those opportunities will turn into a real live full time job offer. The wait continues though. In the meantime, I thought I would share the most interesting job search related item to turn up in my email inbox lately.

[some strange email address from a domain that does not look secure]
4:49 PM (15 hours ago)

to me

Hello Daddy Hawk!

I have read your resume and I would like to propose you a position with our company. It is an easy job with a permanent salary in the amount of $3 000 plus commission and social insurance. We are searching for candidates who are able to support business relationship between customers located in another country.

You don't need special skills, our manager will send you a detailed description and support you by phone. To get started you'll need to create an account with any local bank to process the transactions from our clients and sign a contract with the HR Department.

You will be able to get your first money in about 5 business days. If you're enthusiastic about please contact our company by email, we will support you.

Thanks

Seems legit. What do you think?

Given the interesting grasp of the English language sentence structure and syntax, I'm guessing money laundering for drug cartels or middle man for Nigerian scammers.

Either way...just not interested.

Stop Hitting Yourself

Dear Texas Republican Party Members (and you folks at the National Party HQ need to listen up too),

I'll make this simple: STOP HITTING YOURSELF! Seriously. Put down the shovel, go take a bottle of Tylenol and reread the Bible and the Constitution when you wake up.

Sincerely,

Daddy Hawk

I'll be the first to state that, as a conservative Christian, I believe the Bible is very clear on the subject of homosexuality. The Bible is also very clear about not judging others, accepting people as they are (while loving them and encouraging them to sin no more) and looking after your own problems before you try to solve everyone else's. I'll also be the first to admit that I do not understand the "cause" of homosexuality anymore than I do particle physics, and I'm pretty sure no one living has a decent grasp on that subject either. We can debate genetics and nature versus nurture until the end of time; but, if you listen closely, you can just make out the sound of God laughing at us for thinking we have a clue.

So, it strikes me that these well intentioned folks are suffering from a special form of stupid to think that 1)homosexuality can be "fixed" through therapy, 2) that it's any of the government's business in the first place, and 3) there ought to be a law to do something about it.

Do you want to take a stand on moral issues? Fine be me. Live your life according to those morals. Be the example you want others to follow. Talk to people about why you do what you do when offered the opportunity. Talk to them out of love and be respectful of that teachable moment.

Do you want to make a difference in state and national level politics? Fine by me. Stick to things that are defined by the Constitution as being the government's business. Let's talk fiscal policy. Let's talk foreign policy. Let's talk about securing the borders. Let's talk about taxes. Let's talk about how entitlements are bankrupting the county. Let's talk about the ideas you have to make Texas and America stronger (or strong again depending on your point of view).

Let's stay out of people's bedrooms. Let's stay out of people's minds. This isn't Orwell's 1984. There should be no political correctness. There should be no hate crimes or thought police. You don't fix racism by inciting riots and perpetuating the "us vs. them" mentality. You change people's hearts and minds by being the best example you can be.

[dropping mike and stepping off soap box]

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

So, here lately, the North Texas area has been getting a lot of attention, unwanted in my opinion, from aggressive proponents of open carry upsetting the apple cart by carrying rifles and shotguns in public.

I'm sure most of you have seen the Facebook photo of the two dweebs...mall ninjas...wannabees...fools attention whores standing in Chipotle with their EBRs (evil black rifles) on display. I'm not going to post that photo as I don't need those two preserved here in my digital home for posterity. Google "Dallas Chipotle Open Carry" if you really want to see it. Suffice it to say, they look silly.  The one wearing his mirrored shades and holding the rifle at low ready, other than looking like the rifle is bigger than he is, should probably have been arrested for disturbing the peace or brandishing of some other related offense. Maybe it's not too late. There is photographic evidence of the offense after all.

Add to that little drama, the events going on in Arlington where the city council recently passed a new ordinance preventing people from stepping into city streets to hand out literature. This ordinance was the result of a Tarrant County open carry group passing out copies of the Constitution at intersections while carrying rifles and shotguns to the apparent dismay of some if you believe the news reporting of the events. The open carry group is crying violation of their first amendment rights, and they promise civil disobedience when the ordinance takes effect at the end of the month.

And now there is this:

Little orange signs like this are popping up all over Granbury (southwest of Ft. Worth). When I asked the manager at Fuzzy's Tacos what gives, he advised that they were informed that an open carry group was coming to town Memorial Day weekend and wanted no part of that nonsense. So, essentially, what they have done since the sign does not comply with Texas section 30.06 signage requirements is create a reason for a simple trespassing charge. If someone entering the business with a gun is asked to leave and refuses, they can then be arrested for trespassing.

Frankly, I don't blame Fuzzy's for posting the sign. I don't blame Chipotle for their position either. Do I wish they had handled it differently? Yes. Then again, I wish the attention whores had stayed home to beg mommy for donut money or play video games too.

In the meantime, I will comply with the laws of the state of Texas while enjoying my burritos and tacos.

Potty Humor

No, not the kind you think. Get your mind out of the toilet.

About a week or two ago, this sign...

...appeared in the toilet stalls in the men's room at my office. I have no idea why this sign appeared as it would never occur to me to put a paper towel in the toilet; but, be that as it may, said sign was apparently posted in all seriousness.

Well, someone (I have it on good authority who said person is), decided that the above sign could not go unchallenged. Thus, this sign...

...appeared a couple of days or three ago.

Well, apparently, the response was so popular that its creator was emboldened to add an addenda to the list which presaged the appearance of this sign...

Somebody needs a hobby, but I can't wait for the next installment.

Culinary Captain Obvious

So, I'm in St. Louis for business. The meals are all being catered by the hotel where we are staying. Now, I know a thing or two about food allergies, and I am genuinely appreciative of restaurants and catering people that take care to let you know when there might be an issue with the food. But...., there is courtesy. Then..., there is absurdity.

Case in point:

Lunch today had a pork loin protein option. Next to the sign indicating that the item was, in fact, pork loin, there was another sign that said, no kidding, "MAY CONTAIN PORK". 

Um....yeah. About that. Are you sure?

But, wait...we haven't gotten to the dessert table yet. 

One of the dessert options was a nice looking Pecan Pie. Pecan halves bigger than life right on top and everything. No mistaking that, yes, them pecans are nuts. I bet you smart folks can guess right where this is going. 

Yep, you guessed it, next to the little "pecan pie" sign was another little sign that said "MAY CONTAIN NUTS."

Um...yeah. I can see that. 

Is it just me, or are we passed nanny state and gone over the cliff full gonzo to bubble wrap society?

Idjit: Spring Break Edition

So, I'm in Houston for business. The Queen and Princess M&M came with me since it's within driving distance and doesn't cost the company anything extra. It costs ME extra, but that's balanced out by the pleasure I get from not being away from my girls for two and a half days. 

My business is taking place in southwest Houston near Beltway 8 and 288 for those of you who know the area. For those of you not in the know (you're not missing anything...trust me), there is not much in the way of "nice" places to stay in that area. So, we decided to stay in Kemah Boardwalk area which is right on Galveston Bay a little bit further south and east of where I'm spending my days. It's about 45 minutes away, but the extra drive time is worth it to us to have a nice, fun place for The Queen and M&M to hang out during the day while I am taking care of business.

Kemah is about halfway (more of less) between Houston and Galveston. As such, I thought it would be a good idea to take The Queen and M&M to the island yesterday evening for the purpose of giving M&M her first big water beach experience and having dinner. 

Bear in mind, this week is Spring Break for the majority of the world. 

As a side note, defective global warming made for some amusing people watching last night as scantily clad youngsters froze their kiesters off along Seawall Blvd. in 60 degree temps with a steady 20 MPH wind. 

Any stupid, before we made it to the beach area, we were minding our own business stopped at a stop light southbound on Broadway (which is what I-45 turns into after you get on the island from the causeway) in The Queen's chariot...a big, white, Lincoln Navigator. As The Queen and I chatted about something, there was a popping sound at which time we felt a slight bump. 

From long experience, I knew exactly what had happened which was easily confirmed by a check of the rearview mirror which revealed a white vehicle entirely too close to the rear of our vehicle. I prepared to hastily exit the vehicle to confront the other driver after a somewhat vexed utterance of "What the H...?" The Queen, in her infinite patience, admonished me to remain calm. She's compassionate that way.

I exited the Nav (as we call...we're lazy that way) and walked back to find a white Honda Accord sedan's front bumper kissing the hitch cover on the back bumper of the Nav. 

I approached the driver's door on the Honda which, much to my aggravation, was not already open and gave the driver a opened handed "what gives?" gesture. I couldn't see much through the tinted windows, but the door finally opened to reveal a young, 20 something female in a sundress. If pressed, I will guess that she was of Vietnamese descent.

I looked at her, looked at the Nav and looked back at her. Still not getting anything verbal from here yet much less an "are you okay?", I asked her "What happened?" 

20 Something replied, "I don't know what happened. I was just driving, and...." while waving her right hand in a vague, dismissive manner. 

I looked at her lap which contained a cell phone and inquired, "Were you on your phone?"

20 Something: "Yes." somewhat sheeplishly. At this point, she finally woke up out of her tech haze enough to exit the car and see if there was damage. 

We both examined the bumpers. I looked over and asked, "Are you all right?"

20 Something: "Yes."

"It doesn't look like there's any damage here.", I say. "Just drive more careful."

I turned and walked back to the car. I had more important things to do than exchange information with her over a scratch on the bumper. 

She never once asked if I was alright or if there was anyone else in the car. Hopefully, she will take the rather inexpensive lesson to heart.