A Tree Falling in the Forest

Got gas this morning... one more penny and my prediction regarding gas under $2 a gallon will become true.

I bet if I had time to go to the right gas station this morning I could have gotten under the $2 mark.

Some dreams make no sense to me. Last night I dreamed I was late for an advanced mathematics class because my textbook and workbook were stuck inside the gas tank of my early 80's Ford LTD with faded paint. The good news was there was very little gas left in the tank, the bad new was that my hand would not fit through the filler neck.

This is especially confusing since I have never owned a Ford LTD with faded paint, and I have not been in a formal classroom setting for years. The dream even included cameo appearances from SENHCA alumni.

Yesterday, I visited the local Target store to pick up some essentials. After browsing in a few aisles, (Sidebar: Hot Wheels were on sale for 68 cents and I picked up a sweet Firebird for my son's collection. Sidebar appendix: one of the great things about having a son is that I have an appropriate excuse for my Hot Wheels addiction. End sidebar.) I went to the diaper section to resupply the troops in Alexandria. After two phone calls to my lovely wife (MLW), I was confident I had made the right selection. I decided I would reward myself for this unselfish act by selecting a confectionery treat to enjoy after leaving the store.

When I arrived in the cookie aisle I was confronted with 12, I repeat 12, varieties of OREO cookie. I had no idea. I remember when there were three varieties: plain, double-stuf, and the crappy store brand. Now there are caramel, mint, chocolate covered, white fudge, golden original, mini, seasonal (Halloween), something called an uh-oh and various combinations of the aforementioned. Uh-oh is right. I needed a score sheet to keep track. I gave up and decided to forego the treat for another time. Sometimes you just can't improve on the original no matter how hard you try.

This morning it was downright cold when I went out to my truck to drive to work. But my heart was warmed when I drove by the gas station. "Why?" you ask. Because yesterday when I had to get gas the price was $2.19, but the pump was moving slow so I only got half a tank. Today the price continued its drop... down to $2.15. Approximate net saving to me... $0.40. Crude oil prices continue to slide. I predict the price for gas will be under $2 in the Richmond area in the next few weeks. Oh, and the temperature is on its way back up for the weekend.

My lovely wife (MLW), our brilliant baby (OBB), our emotionally disturbed dog (EDD), and I will be moving into a new home at the end of October. The new home features a big yard and plenty of "man space" in the form of a detached two-car garage with a large loft.



This will be an enjoyable adventure. Neither the house nor the garage need a lot of work, but we will do some cosmetic changes and upgrades to make it our home.

But before we occupy this little piece of paradise we will be officially homeless for the month of October. MLW, OBB, and EDD and I will be mooching off the kindness of friends and family. It is going to be tough, but in the long run it will be worth it and hopefully we won't wear out our the hospitality of our friends too much.

On my way into work today I was reminded of the close relationship between the One-Bolt Theory and Murphy's Law.

I saw a U-Haul trailer that had broken free from its tow vehicle and slammed into the center jersey barrier on I-95. The tongue of the trailer was bent straight up in the air. As I passed by I could clearly see the hitch ball was still in the tongue... minus the all important nut that holds it to the tow vehicle.

The one-bolt theory wreaks havoc with trailer balls because they only have one-bolt.

Filled up my truck for less than $50 yesterday.

Astronauts Lose Another Bolt to Space

CAPE CANAVERAL, Fla. (AP) - Astronauts working to bring to life a new 17 1/2-ton addition to the international space station lost another bolt to the void during a spacewalk early Wednesday.

"I did not see it go," MacLean said. "I'm looking to see if anything is floating."

He said that the astronauts simply used three bolts for the task instead of four, and that there shouldn't be a problem with that.

A couple things about this story... First, I totally understand their pain. I have lost tons of bolts while working on cars, trucks, boats, household items, and ATVs; and I had the advantage of gravity and normal clothes. With age and experience I have become more careful at keeping track of stuff, but it still happens from time to time. Second, I don't think I have ever successfully used three fastners in place of four, but hopefully in this case it will be fine.

When it comes to working on mechanical things, I have a theory. I call it the "One-Bolt Theory." After the fall of man, God told Adam and Eve that the ground was cursed and would require more work to yield food. Adam would have to toil and sweat. Well, I sometimes think that this curse extended to mechanical devices, because there is often one bolt, or one part of a repair job that is more difficult than it should be. Ergo, the one-bolt theory.

Ah, the return of the Simpsons... and we don't even have to wait until October to start the new season.

SUNDAY SEPT. 10th 8/7c
THIS IS THE SEASON PREMIERE YOU CAN'T REFUSE!

After Lisa befriends Fat Tony's son Michael, Fat Tony invites the Simpsons over for dinner. But when Fat Tony is shot by a rival family, his thugs want Michael to be the new kingpin. When he declines, Homer steps up.

Gas prices are starting to ease. But, it is a sad commentary when I am excited about 2.39 a gallon.

Over the weekend, my wife and I saw a report on a cable news network about the levees in New Orleans. Typical "year after" report on the levee repair. Probably about 3-4 minutes long.

But the producer of the piece was being a little too clever. Throughout the entire piece, even during interviews and narration, Led Zepplin's "When the Levee Breaks" was playing in the background.

In case you are not familiar with the song... here are the lyrics...

If it keeps on rainin', levee's goin' to break, [X2]
When The Levee Breaks I'll have no place to stay.

Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan, [X2]
Got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home,
Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well.

Don't it make you feel bad
When you're tryin' to find your way home,
You don't know which way to go?
If you're goin' down South
They go no work to do,
If you don't know about Chicago.

Cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good,
Now, cryin' won't help you, prayin' won't do you no good,
When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move.

All last night sat on the levee and moaned, [X2]
Thinkin' about me baby and my happy home.
Going, going to Chicago... Going to Chicago... Sorry but I can't take you...
Going down... going down now... going down....

Wiki has some interesting history on the song that adds context to the lyrics.

To automakers of the world: Why can't your cars have a decent hook to hold drycleaning or other articles of clothing on a hanger. It can't possibly be that expensive to include a hook that is strong enough, big enough, and easy to use to hold a few dress shirts.

To movie makers of the world: Can't seem to sell many tickets these days? Demand dropping off? It could be the product. It could also be the ticket prices. $9.50 a ticket? Maybe if it didn't cost $40 to go see a movie and get some popcorn we would go a little more often.

To the idiots on I-95 this morning: If you are driving in a hard rain, in the left lane, at 55-60 mph, you don't need your warning flashers on. It's just annoying. Cut it out.

The drama of a teething baby is bad enough, but my wife and I also have the drama of closing out a home sale negotiation while living in seperate cities while also looking for a new home in our new city. Everyday, the clock is ticking on our need to vacate our current home.

We just have to get through this week. And when I see "we", I mostly mean my wife who is the full time caretaker of the baby and chief real estate coordinator while I am at work. You may be surprised to hear that there are very few crying babies, very few diapers, and very few real estate professionals at my place of work.