Up at 6:00, on the road by 7:00, broken down by 8:00 and finally into El Mago de Ponche by 10:00. I remembered what that sound was – a rattling head gasket. What threw me was the Ford has a temperature gauge, not an idiot light and it stayed in the normal range. That is why people trust them – the bulb can’t burn out. Guess what? Ford invented the idiot gauge.
You see, the temperature gauge measures the temperature of the water, not of the engine. So if you have no water, it reads normal. Let’s hear it for Ford Motor Company. I hope they go broke this year instead of next. What a pack of dismal crackheads.
The head gasket was leaking water into the oil, normally an expensive repair. This caused extra pressure in the motor which broke the seal around the water pump. The water leaked out and I was getting a knock from overheating. We threw in a new water pump and a can of Seal Block. It seems to work okay. Manuel says to repeat this in a couple of days. Then, bring it back for a compression test in a few weeks. If it holds, he says the car will be good for a while more. He would not take it to Washington, but he is not a gambler.
Should I decide to repair the motor, he’ll do it for $750. I have to decide whether ai could replace the car with that amount of money. Probably not, except for the few total idiot things I don’t like, such as the door locks , the car is great. My Spanish accent must be approaching perfect. While Manuel was busy, I walked over to Las Palmas for a coffee and all the staff were facing away from the counter. I ordered, but when they turned around they couldn’t find the Spanish guy. “Donde vas? Donde vas?” It took a moment for me to clue in they didn’t know it was me who had spoken – I was doing a Su Doku puzzle
For the test drive, I went over to JP’s, who I’d called earlier but he said he had to go work for his brother at 10:00. I drove over at 3:30 and sure enough, his truck was there. Must be nice. I checked my email on his computer and he asked about Cheryl (I mentioned I was answering her letter). It is entirely believable that when I offered to introduce her, he could not break the habit of thinking I was trying to pawn her off on him – I now know that is what he’s experienced. It makes sense now.
What he is reacting to is that he’s figured out that if she was a zero, I would not still be writing to her months later. Now he wants to meet her again, but I’ll clear that with her first. I took the opportunity to point out that all the sodas I put in his fridge last Sunday (that he never drinks) were all gone. He’s lucky I don’t charge a finder’s fee. He said he’d drive out tonight, like he’s said for the last three months he would. He never made it.
Jack, the taxi driver called. I stopped at home and got my guitar, some spare parts and a couple of dead ink cartridges. Jack and Diane would be neighbors except for Florida’s Turnpike. I dropped the cartridges off with her and headed over to Jack’s. The Barbie computer was a great little machine for its day, and I think could hold its own against a lower end Dell in many ways. I got the back casing off and sure enough, there is a bay for a second hard drive. This I can work with, but only at home. We agreed to let me have it for a week and see what I can do. It has the often studied but rarely seen RAM that fits at a 45 degree angle.
Then over to the coffeehouse, where Cort’s son was running the show this evening. I can’t figure out how that business makes any money unless it is super busy during the week. I hooked up the ticky-bop and except for totally unpracticed tunes, it really makes a difference to the sound. The G admits it is sometimes tricky to keep such a strict beat. Every musician I’ve introduced to the machine says the same thing at first. Usually they quickly learn that it is they who is changing speed and that is a bad habit for pros.
He pretended not to notice when several of the tables, often including people who already have heard ort material, stopped and paid attention again. We are talking some seriously enthusiastic applause. The machine adds a real dimension to the sound that can’t be ignored much longer. Cheryl was there early and had invited this lady named Roni to drop in. She did, she was quite attractive and she was quite Jewish. Also a little bit ga-ga, the kind of woman that would have fascinated Sigmund Freud.
The evening goes fast with the drumbox, so although there were only two other musicians and a comedian the time zipped by. I’ll quote a some priceless comments made tonight pointing out that not all of them happened on stage. What has sixty legs and 14 teeth? The front row at a Garth Brooks concert. Jennifer, the blonde percussionist from the symphony showed up, and when I asked if anyone wanted a love seat, she suggested I donate it to the homeless. Even The G didn’t let that one past (what does a homeless person need furniture for?). How about “Ventroliquism for Dummies”, I may have been the only one there who got it right away.
I’ve come up with one the next time the G uses that old one about we play both kinds of music, country AND western. I’ll mention I play rock AND roll. His contribution tonight was one about the guy who walks into a psychiatrist’s office wearing nothing but cling wrap. The doctor says, “I can clearly see your nuts.”
As customary, I wrap up by asking how, by comparison, was your Saturday?
