Category Archives: Castle Willett

“I Should Of Stood In Bed”

It’s unclear who said those immortal words, but the meaning is crystal clear. (I always thought it was Leo Durocher or Yogi Berra, but I wasn’t even close.) Today tried hard to be one of those days.

We awoke to the sound of running water. That’s special and wonderful if you happen to live near a trickling brook or a rippling river, but when the sound comes from water running somewhere in the walls and under the house it’s a little bit more stressful. I dragged my butt out of bed and into some clothes (for which the neighbors are no doubt eternally grateful), stuck my head into the itty-bitty, teeny-tiny access hatch to the crawl space under the house, where I could see the water running and pooling and and generally making a mess. I left the water on long enough to take a quick shower, then I shut off it off at the meter and called the plumbers.

With no water in the house, I tried to get through my other tasks for the day, before I  ran into my next crisis:

I’m not dying of some horrible toxic reaction between the dissolved food dye and the chocolate, so I guess that I “chose wisely.” (Remind me some time to tell the family story that makes this so funny for my kids.)

As long as the water was off, there was another plumbing issue that I had put off for a while. I needed the water shut off to do it and it seemed to be a pain in the ass to shut off the water to the whole house for one little repair. But now that the water was off anyway and the shower in question was still disassembled. The repair took only a few minutes and was done, easy as pie.

The plumbers didn’t get here until after 6:00 PM, which they had told me when I called early this morning, so it wasn’t like I was stressing too much over the possibility of going into the weekend without water. It was interesting to see these guys getting through that little access hatch to work under the house and then start hacking and soldering. I’ve been down under there when I’ve run cable for phones and television and internet:

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(Me ten years ago after coming out from under the house – sorry Texas!)

…it’s not my favorite place, even though I’m not particularly claustrophobic. You need to be a contortionist, there are spots where it’s pretty tight, it’s filthy, it’s hard to move around, and every now and then you do wonder just how the fire department is going to get you out if you get stuck.

They were pros and got the job done. I turned the water back on, they tested their repairs to check for leaks, no worries. But what’s that noise from the half-bath at the other end of the house?

The new cartridge was pretty well smashed to pieces (I have no idea how it broke that badly without shattering the glass shower enclosure that it shot into) but my only lucky break of the day was that I had saved the broken cartridge that I had taken out instead of trashing it. It doesn’t work as a shower cartridge, but it works great as a specialized plug in that valve so that we could turn the water back on.

Not the way I had planned on spending Friday. Perhaps I should have stood in bed. On the other hand, if I had, the bed might be floating away and my yard might look like that mess up on Sunset Boulevard last week, so maybe it all worked out for the better anyway.

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Juicy Chunks O’ Wisdom For Sunday, May 4th

‘Cause I’ve got other things that I’m in the middle of writing tonight and I’m sore from catching up on some physically demanding house chores, that’s why.

  • They’re running those ads for the Fiat 500L where the guys lost in the desert find P Diddy’s party and convince themselves it’s just a mirage because the Fiat has four doors. Right? It’s sort of a stupid ad (I actually though it was for Mini Coopers as I started to write this, so I guess they’ve failed the ultimate test of any ad) but that’s not what I’m wondering about. Why are they playing Pharrell’s “Happy” at P Diddy’s party? Why aren’t they playing some of P Diddy’s music?
  • Is everyone else in the country getting 24/7/365 coverage of the Donald Sterling scandal thing, or are we just special here in LA? It’s already become my new “instantly change the channel to anything else” hot button item. There are so many aspects of “uber-ick” associated with so many of the players involved, digging deeper and finding more layers of slime isn’t what I’m interested in watching the press do.
  • Another annoying aspect of the NBA is how it absolutely dominates the local and national sports reporting. Sorry, but WHO CARES? I understand that it’s a big draw, lots of TV ratings, lots of passion, but why does it get 90% of the coverage, with the NFL Draft getting about 8%, and the entire NHL playoffs and all of the MLB regular season fighting for scraps of the other 2%. As for anything not in this country, such as the English Premier League or the upcoming Tour de France? Fugedda bout it! Would it really be too much to ask that an hour of SportsCenter on ESPN have only 15 or  20 minutes of NBA at most, with some balanced coverage of the other sports in the remaining 40-45 minutes?
  • Today was “Sheet Changing Day” at Casa Willett. This is a bigger deal than you might expect, and out of that I hope you will soon be seeing a madcap romantic comedy on the New York Times Best Seller list. At least, the Wednesday Writing Group likes where it’s going in the first draft. Remember — “Sheet Changing Day.”
  • The one guy in Los Angeles who’s the happiest over the Donald Sterling thing? Frank McCourt, no longer “it” as the most hated sports owner.

Remember that in a year or two it won’t matter worth squat if your hockey or football or baseball or basketball or soccer team won the Stanley Cup or Lombardi Trophy or World Series or the O’Brien Trophy or the World Cup. (Although it might matter if your baseball team won the Stanley Cup…) In twenty-five years, only a few die hards will remember. In a hundred years, only a few statisticians (or their computers) will remember. In a thousand years, they won’t even remember that hockey, baseball, football, basketball, or soccer existed, let alone who won. In a hundred thousand years (or a hundred, YMMV) there won’t even be any humans left, only the machines wondering how in hell humans ever made it out of the trees, let alone to the moon and beyond.

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An Economics Question

In high school I was president of the Ecology Club for two years, pushing a lot of recycling programs, planting trees, and generally getting into a mindset where I believe we should limit waste as much as possible in our lives.

In college I took a year of “Economics 101” (it was probably actually called “Economics A, B, & C” or something, but you get the idea) and got a pretty basic grasp of most of the big concepts.

This evening we had a BBQ — just burgers & dogs for the Long-Suffering Wife and I, but it was good.

The actual BBQ we have is probably seven or eight years old. We also still have the previous BBQ which we “retired” after six or seven years.

My daughter’s car is sitting, dead, in the driveway, thanks to a small part that broke (catastrophically) over a year ago.

Why am I firing off all of these apparent non sequiturs? They really are related. Stick with me.

The BBQ is getting harder and harder to use. It’s a big, five-burner, propane powered beastie.

photoThe problems are:

  1. The three grills have all deteriorated, mainly from the ceramic coating on them cracking off, and they need to be repaired or replaced
  2. The “heat tent” sheets, the thin, flat horizontal sheets between the burners and the grill which are designed to spread the heat from the burners evenly, are all falling apart and need to be replaced

You can google for parts easily enough, the problem is what they cost. The replacement grills are anywhere from $100 to almost $200, and the heat tent sheets can be another $50 or more.

But you can buy a brand new grill, equivalent to what I’ve already got, for under $500.

Given the amount of material that goes into a propane BBQ of that size, how can two replacement parts cost almost half of what a new one does?

Given the wear and tear on the old one, it’s almost more economically sound to simply trash the old one and buy a new one. But isn’t that a tremendous waste?

Ditto on the daughter’s PT Cruiser. It has a tiny part in the ignition switch that broke off (two hundred miles from home, halfway between Sacramento and Los Angeles in the middle of nowhere, of course) and it is impossible to start the car.

After getting towed to Coalinga and spending four days being stuck over a holiday weekend waiting for parts, I was finally told that the only solution was to replace the entire steering column assembly for $2,000+. Because a $20 part had broken. I ended up paying someone at a corner repair shop to hotwire it for me to get it started and drove to LA praying that it wouldn’t die again.

Apparently this is a recurring problem with the PT Cruiser and other Chrysler products. Because it’s not as critical as the current GM ignition switch problem, i.e., no one’s died because of it, just gotten stranded, there’s no recall. There’s also no way to get a dealer, ANY dealer, to simply get the one tiny part, open up the steering column, and replace the part for $200 or so.

When I got back to Los Angeles, I called multiple Chrysler repair shops and dealerships. Each time I described the problem, I got a response of, “Oh, yeah, that problem. We’ll have to replace the steering column and it will cost a couple thousand dollars.” On a car that might be worth $3,500.

At least two of the people I spoke to suggested just scrapping the car. A perfectly good, functioning, basic transportation vehicle which will probably go another 50,000 or more, worth $3,500 — scrap it because of a $20 part broke?

How does any of this possibly make sense economically?

I know how it makes sense for the car companies and the hardware stores! They get to sell me another $25,000 car to replace a $3,500 car that needs a $20 part which they refuse to sell to me or repair. Yeah, got it, I know how that makes economic sense for them. What about me?

The hardware store gets to sell me another $500 propane BBQ (and try to get me to upgrade to a $1,000 one) to replace an existing unit that is perfectly safe, perfectly functional, but is simply in need of a couple of spare parts that should cost $100 or less instead of $250 or more. Again, that makes perfect sense for them — but I’m not buying it.

Getting back to the economics and the Ecology Club, how can it make sense in the big, global picture, to throw out a car with the working engine, transmission, electrical system, interior, glass, and so on, because one part broke in the ignition switch? I got A’s in those college economics courses, and I’m not seeing the logic here.

Anyway, the other economic theory is that when something doesn’t make sense economically due to unnatural restrictions on the market, the market will react to get around those artificial restrictions.

I had been looking for replacement parts for this BBQ make and model — turns out if you look for generic parts instead of model-specific parts and purchase them from dealers out on the internet instead of the big, national chain hardware store where you got the original BBQ, you can find those parts for $60 or $70 instead of the $250 or more that they think they should cost.

If you look long enough and your google-fu is strong enough, you can find an off-market, non-Chrysler part for that ignition switch for about $60, along with a YouTube video that shows you step-by-step how to replace it. Granted, there are a couple of specialized tools needed there, and that level of mechanical repair is a bit out of my league. On the other hand, $60 plus some sweat plus some learning curve plus some tools bought, rented, or borrowed is a LOT less than $2,000+. Besides, what have I got to lose? What’s the worst I can do, break it so that it really does need a whole new steering column instead of just one part?

One of the things that my Economics 101 professor taught over and over was that any problem involving people was at its final root cause be an economics problem, and could be dealt with as such. That applies here.

I’m not sure what the exact law of economics is, but for the moment we can refer to it as “The Law Of Multiple Ways To Skin A Cat.”

 

 

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It’s GOOD To Drive The Nice Car!

In today’s bulletin from the Department of Irrelevancy:

I’ve been doing a LOT more driving in the last couple of months, despite the unemployment thing. Out to Camarillo to the CAF Museum and hanger three days a week or more, down to Orange County most weeks for a writer’s group — it’s starting to add up.

Normally I drive my stupid and well-worn old “Momdude-mobile”, an 2001 Chrysler Town & Country minivan. It was very practical and functional when I got it, since at the time we had three kids in school and tons of schlepping to do on a daily basis. I got one with lots of upgrades, including the bigger engine, a towing package (bigger radiator & heavier shocks), the good leather interior, and so on. I wouldn’t ever buy another Chrysler, but this one has hung in there reasonably well for the most part.

But — at this point it’s got over 166,000 miles on it and a lot of things are starting to go. There’s a funky grinding sound from somewhere in the front suspension every time a bump is found, and those “speed humps” make it sound like the whole front end is going to fall off. The radio works sometimes, but mostly not. Of course, the car was manufactured a decade before things like built-in navigation systems or satellite radio were around. Hell, it doesn’t even have a simple jack for plugging in an iPhone or iPad. (Neither existed in 2001.)

These days, with the kids scattered around the planet, it’s primarily used to haul my butt around. It’s also the vehicle we use whenever the dog needs to go somewhere since she sheds like a fiend and I don’t want to ruin the “good” car. And it’s still big enough (barely!) to carry a 4×8 sheet of plywood or drywall. But it’s not terribly fuel efficient for me to use as a single-person commuter-mobile, and it’s a bit of a “battleship” to drive. It’s got plenty of power for a minivan, but that’s sort of like being the best leper in the colony.

A couple years ago, when The Long Suffering-Wife needed a new vehicle, we splurged and got our “lust-mobile”, a Volvo C70 convertible. Not very good for carrying anything other than two people and a tiny little bit of luggage, but damn if it isn’t a joy to drive, especially with the top down. Most noticeable, especially compared to the minivan, is that when you stomp on the gas, it GOES! There’s nothing I love more than getting onto the freeway and merging into traffic driving it. In the minivan you creep into the slow lane hoping someone cuts you some slack and leaves a hole big enough for you to wallow into — in the Volvo you pick your spot, punch it, pick your spot in the next lane, keep doing it, and in seconds you are in the fast lane doing “maximum freeway speed”.

It might not be terribly fuel efficient either, but who cares?

While The Long-Suffering Wife is back to driving after her surgery, she’s still taking it easy most days, so I’m getting the option to take the Volvo instead of the Chrysler some days. Would you rather drive the car described as “practical” and “functional” or the one described as “WOW!” and “cool?” Yeah, me too.

It’s good to drive the nice car!

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Nothing Remarkable Happened Today

It was just a normal Sunday at Castle Willett. We slept in, went out to breakfast, did our grocery shopping. A friend from high school had a birthday. (Hi, Diane!) I took down the rest of the Christmas lights, I didn’t fall off of any ladders or drop any hammers on my head, we watched some football. My son called from Germany, my daughter called from Sacramento, I wrote a little bit. The cat broke something, the dog was a good girl when other dogs came by our yard. No one died, no one went to the hospital, it was not in any way a red-letter day for any of us.

That was my initial perspective, and it is 100% valid and accurate.

Then I started thinking about what my grandfather, when he was the same age as I am now, might think of everything I did today. (We’re talking mid 1940’s on a farm in South Dakota.) About the only thing he would recognize would be the bacon and eggs, the cat, and the dog.

The digital alarm clock? His probably got wound up by hand.

The HD flatscreen television? I’ll bet that he didn’t have a television in the 1940’s, and the big thing in the 1960’s when he died was color TV.

The iPhone and iPad on my bed stand? I doubt that he had a phone in the 1940’s. I’m not 100% sure they had electricity by that point. Even if he did, then you’ve got that whole comparison of a 1940’s  rotary dial phone with a world-class computer that just also happens to convey phone calls.

Our car, the convertible with the big engine? OK, so the 1940’s Indy cars might or might not have had more horsepower (pole position was won with a speed of 126mph and I’m pretty sure our car could do that on a track), but any car my grandfather ever drove in his life most certainly didn’t. His tractor didn’t have a roof other than his hat, does that count as a convertible?

The 737’s going over our house into Burbank and the 747’s and 777’s going over our house out of LAX toward Asia? Sixteen hours non-stop is a long haul from LAX to Tokyo (been there, done that), but compare that to sixteen hours (with three refueling stops) to get from Los Angeles to New York on a DC-3. As for how commonplace air travel is today, I’m not sure my grandfather ever flew in a plane, ever.

The computers that I’ve used all day to write, do accounting, surf the Internet, read online newspapers? They weren’t even a theoretical dream to anyone on the planet in the mid 1940’s.

If we went to see a movie today, it would be wall-to-wall digital effects to make anything utterly believable, as well as on a huge screen, with flawless projection and eight-channel high quality sound. In the 1940’s, the big, new technological breakthroughs in film were color and stereo.

The ISS went overhead today with six men on board, a vessel that has allowed us to have a continuous human presence off-planet for over thirteen years. The moon’s just rising now, and there are six manned landing sites and twelve sets of boot prints in the dust. We’re driving two separate vehicles on Mars (one of them over ten years old), we have spacecraft currently orbiting Mercury, Mars, and Saturn, we’ve done long duration missions to Jupiter, we’ve swung by Neptune and Uranus, we’re currently on the way to Pluto, and we have spacecraft that have left the freaking solar system and are now in interplanetary space. In the mid 1940’s, only Wernher von Braun and a few of his friends that that his would ever happen.

I’m listening to music from satellite radio and watching live tennis from the Australian Open. Our car radio has dozens of AM stations (all talk and news), several dozen FM stations, or we could plug in our iPods or iPhones. He had a radio the size of my desk with maybe three or four stations he could get during the day, maybe a couple dozen at night. It would have been a big deal to hear something live such as a presidential speech from Washington or war news from Europe.

That was my more introspective perspective, and it also is 100% valid and accurate.

It’s all a matter of perspective, which we forget all too often. “Nothing remarkable happened today” — when you compare today to yesterday. “Mind blown, gobsmacked, and miracles everywhere” — when you compare today to just fifty or sixty years ago, well within a normal lifespan.

Maybe something remarkable did happen today.

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Draining The Swamp

It’s after 22:00 already? SHAZBATT!

It’s not that I haven’t gotten things done this weekend, quite the opposite. And it’s not that it hasn’t been enjoyable and satisfying. Again, quite the opposite.

It’s just that the stuff I’ve gotten done isn’t the stuff that I had thought that I would get done this weekend, which is largely still trying to catch up on things that got shoved onto the back burner during NaNoWriMo. And looking ahead, between family and the holidays and OH CRAP WE HAVE TO SEND OUT THE CHRISTMAS CARDS STILL, the next week (hell, the rest of the month!) doesn’t look any better.

During one particularly frazzled moment earlier today I was reminded of the old phrase, “When you’re up to your ass in alligators, it’s important to remember that the original goal was to drain the swamp.”

In memory of that thought, here’s a picture of a swamp.

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A Study In Splish Splash

A long day of painting.

I may have found my medium. Not oils, acrylics, or watercolors. I prefer a much bigger canvas, so I’m dabbling in Valspar(tm) acrylic interior flat.

The Long-Suffering Wife and I have finally gotten all of the wallpaper, glue, and crap off of the walls, then patched and repaired a large hole. (It’s a 60’s home in the San Fernando Valley — of course there was an intercom that hasn’t worked in at least twenty-five years.)

I learned how to strip wallpaper, paint, and do basic household repairs like that when I was a teenager. We moved around a bit as my Dad would get transferred from here to there. It always seemed we were fixing up or remodeling something. So, while I’m no expert, it’s not rocket science and I can do stuff like that. I just don’t much like to.

This was a project for The Long-Suffering Wife and me to do together. We’ve worked together pretty well, which was not necessarily a given. (Think Tom Hanks & Shelley Long in “The Money Pit.”)

What I found fascinating was how the make your paint in-store at Lowe’s these days. (I’m sure they do it everyplace else that they sell paint as well.) We had picked color samples, which they scanned into a computer. The computer told the guy which base to use, at which point a combination of pigments were added to the base by the computer. It all got stirred together and voila, it was paint in our exact shade.

Science, man!!

So the three difficult walls (the ones with doors, closets, and lots of fixtures) are all done with two coats. It really does make a huge and immediate difference.

Tomorrow we have the easy (no doors or breaks) wall to paint in our accent color (Leaping Lizard).

After that? Well, the carpet totally sucks. How hard is it install Pergo(tm) hardwood flooring by ourselves?

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Last Light & First Light

With Thanksgiving in our rear-view mirror, the primary occupation for the Friday after Thanksgiving in our household for the past thirty years or so has been putting up Christmas lights. The Los Angeles weather actually interfered with that a bit today, with more light rain (insert “STORM WATCH 2013” joke here) overnight and this morning. It may be a family tradition, but I’m not stupid enough to go out and play with electricity while standing on a metal ladder in the rain. Bad juju with that plan.

By mid-afternoon it had cleared and dried enough to get a start. We got four of our six power (extension cord) lines strung, and the two remaining are the easy ones to get finished tomorrow. Then I got the first two sets of big lights up along the gutters.

We’re not one of THOSE families when it comes to Christmas lights (you won’t find us featured on any Discovery Channel specials and the police don’t have to set up traffic control on our block to handle the sightseers), but we are probably one of those families. We definitely have the most lights of any house in the neighborhood, and we might have more than the second and third place houses combined. Maybe. We’re the ones who skew the curve for everyone else, but we get a lot of nice comments from the neighbors and folks walking their dogs, so I don’t think it’s a problem. At least, it’s not a problem as long as we take them down by mid-January. (Another story for another day.)

With the clouds leaving the area at sunset, the day’s last light was very pretty:

photo 1

In the lower left of the picture above, and even more so in the picture below, you can also see the first light from this year’s Christmas display:

photo 2There will be many, many more lights in the days to come. Trust me.

We’re going to have to make a few adjustments this year. The tree that was on the west side of the driveway is gone, so the lights that normally went there will have to find a new home. The huge palm tree you see here used to be much bushier, thicker, and overgrown. We would put twin spirals of red and white lights around it to make it look like a candy cane. (Sorta.) Now that it’s been trimmed and severely cleaned up, that may or may not work. No worries, we’ll figure out something.

It’s Christmas light time!!

 

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How I Try To Kill Houseplants

Some people have “green thumbs” — mine are black. But they’re getting better.

I like to have plants on our front porch – it makes the place look welcoming and homey!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASo I periodically go buy some flowers and plants, water them religiously, and it looks great!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAA month or so later it looks like this, no matter how religiously I water and feed and care for them.

The most tortured example of this “skill” of mine is a poor philodendron that I have tried to kill repeatedly, only to nurse it back to health at the last second, only to then neglect it to the point of near death again so that the cycle can continue. A houseplant web site (Dave’s Garden) says about philodendrons, “The easiest plant to grow, you can almost point and the plant will start to grow for you! The heart shaped leaves can take a lot of abuse and are not fussy at all.” Obviously Dave hasn’t ever met me.

After about a dozen cycles through the “almost dead” to “feeling better” to “almost dead” pattern, about a year ago this poor, abused plant (which you can see in one of its healthier phases at the far right of the first picture above) was down to one single leaf on one single vine.

2010-05-10 Front Porch Flowers (Cropped)Here you can see it on the down side of a cycle, but still with at least a couple of leaves. It went downhill from here. Nonetheless, at that point I again jumped on the Good Gardener bandwagon and started nursing it back to health.

2013-11-04 'Mathusela' PlantHere it is today, not quite thriving, but again on the way back with at least one foot (or vine) in the land of the living.

This is why I think that the universe is filled with life in every bizarre niche, nook, and cranny possible. If this stubborn little plant can survive all of the neglect and abuse that I inflict on it, just think what we might find under some semi-moist rock on Mars, floating in an ocean under the ice on Callisto, or even swimming in a pool of complex hydrocarbons on Europa!

 

 

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Twelve Years Ago Today

Twelve years ago today I stood in a gazebo in the garden of a tea house (formerly a house of ill repute, we’re told) in Orange, CA. It was hot! I was in a monkey suit (i.e., a tuxedo). I was surrounded by friends and family. We were all watching Ronnie walk her father down the aisle to meet me and take her Oath of Office as The Long-Suffering Wife.

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It was a wonderful day and when we reminisce about our wedding we’re both very happy to remember that almost everyone had a good time. (My daughter Kat was not feeling well, but she was a trooper and hung in there.) There was snarky music (we had the DJ play James Brown’s “I Feel Good” as we walked back down the aisle), dancing, good food, a great cake (with a tiny Matchbox Pathfinder on top along with the more traditional bride and groom), and all of the usual wedding tomfoolery.

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Twelve years later, we’ve had some interesting times, some good and some not so good, but we’re still going strong. Our road together lies to the horizon in front of us.

I love you, Ronnie! Thanks for taking the leap with me!

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(Whoa! Hair! Glasses! Much less gut! WHOA!!)

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