Lord of the Castle

Two months ago, I stumbled upon the fact that I can actually buy a new computer that would still run my old word processing software.

I decided that tonight was the night…

We have finally built up our savings enough to where I felt like I could take the plunge and buy a new computer.

I went to Apple’s Refurbished Mac web page.

The 17″ MacBook Pro that I had seen back in August was gone. I looked at the 15″ models. There were two different  configurations available: a 2.2 GHz model for $1,529 or the 2.5 GHz version for $1,699.

Since I am not producing videos, performing complex spreadsheet calculations or participating in online gaming, I decided to go with the cheaper model. After all, a guy can only type so fast. That extra speed isn’t going to make any difference to me.

Besides, the chip powering this computer is two generations later than those on my current laptop. So, I do not think I will miss the 19% increase in processing power at all.

Although I had talked with my wife on several occasions about purchasing a new computer, I went upstairs to run it by my wife one last time.

“Don’t ask me…Be a man! I’d rather you come up and tell me, ‘Honey, I just bought a whatever it is.’ ”

While I appreciate the fact that she trusts me, it is still a wad of cash. If she had even a slight reservation, I would take that as a sign that I should wait.

But, she didn’t!

So, I went down, re-analyzed my thought process a few more times and then clicked on the “Add to Cart” button. I then added 3 years of “Apple Care” and proceeded to checkout.

I noticed that they had the card that I use for Internet purchases on file.

“Perfect.”

I opened another tab, logged into my bank’s website, transferred the necessary funds into my internet account, logged out and went back and completed the purchase.

The package is supposed to arrive on 10/22!

Stay tuned…

I am a D-I-Yer.

For 19 years, I remodeled our home in California.

Since we bought our house in Kansas City, I have remodeled our master suite, installed a side door and built a workshop in the garage, built two bookcases in our family room and three raised bed planters in our yard. I think you get the picture…

Last winter my wife was driving me somewhere. When the front windshield began to fog up, I watched as she pulled out a pair of needle nosed pliars to adjust the airflow.

“What are you doing?”

“Adjusting the air.”

“I know that…why are you using a pair of pliars?”

“Well, the knob broke so I just went into your toolbox and found the smallest pair of pliars that I could find.”

I was taken aback. First, I was proud of her. Since when did she get that kind of initiative? Maybe some of my do-it-yourself attitude has rubbed off on her…

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know…I just thought of this.”

When we got home, she gave me the broken knob. The inside of the knob was made of such thin, fragile plastic that it looked like it was designed to break. The engineer who designed it should be fired. But, then again, it is a GM product so maybe it is par for the course.

I’m just sayin’…

Well, as I said in the beginning of this post, I am a do-it-yourself kinda guy.

So, while on a trip to the junkyard, er…I mean the automotive recycling facility looking for some parts for our Nissan Maxima, I looked for the offending knob. I looked at over a dozen cars and every one was missing the same knob. It seems that I am not the only one who has encountered this problem.

On to Plan B.

I managed to crazy glue it together. But, I had to do something to strengthen it.

Since I work in a machine shop, I found some very thin metal chips and slid one between the inner and outer plastic rings. I figured that would provide some strength when I pushed the know back on the metal post.

Well, it worked…all summer long.

Since I can’t bend my leg right now, I can’t get into my 5-speed Toyota Paseo. So, I have had to drive my wife’s car to work.

Well, last night, the weather suddenly turned cold. A few minutes into my drive to work, the windshield started to fog up. I turned the knob to direct the airflow toward the windshield. the knob turned all right. But the post that controls the direction of the air just stayed put. The knob was once again broken!

When I pulled into the company parking lot, I pulled the knob off of the post and took it to one of our better machinists.

“Mike, do you have any ideas what I can do to fix this?”

He laughed and said, “You probably should just buy a new one.”

What I am about to write will probably make you shake your head in disbelief. It made me shake mine.

I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT!

How obvious could it be? Isn’t that what anybody else, no, make that everyone else would do?

I went to the local Chevrolet dealer on my lunch break…

$10.38!

All of the time and effort I put in to fixing that thing and all it cost to buy a new one was ten dollars and thirty eight cents?

Unbelievable!

When I left work, all I could think about was climbing out of the car, limping into the house and getting off of my leg.

But, no…

My mechanic called. He had a “young kid” who wanted to buy Wild Bill (my old 1979 F150).

I was not prepared for this…

I mean, it is good news…

I have tried to sell that truck several times but when I try to sell it, no one wants it.

After the last time, I parked Bill in my mechanic’s parking lot where it has been sitting for the last year and a half.

“That’s great…”, I said weakly.

He then proceeded to tell me that this “kid’s” truck was stolen. The cops had found his truck and impounded it. But they never called him to tell him. So the impound fees were so high that he couldn’t afford to bet his truck back.

I asked to talk to “the kid.”

He doesn’t have any cash right now…

He is a tree trimmer…

He’s got worked lined up for the entire week but nothing to haul the cuttings away with…

He should make $3,750…

I told him that I needed about 45 minutes to get a bite to eat, find the title and drive over to his place.

I looked through our folders labeled “Cars”, “DMV”, “Important Papers”

I found the title for every other car (and I have 5 of them if you count my project car) but guess what…

I couldn’t find the title for Wild Bill! I checked again…nothing.

My wife checked…nothing

I decided to go and meet the prospective buyer.

They weren’t there. We waited for 45 minutes.

While we waited for them to get back, I told my mechanic that I was thinking of letting them borrow Bill for the three days, make the money and then buy him if they still wanted to.

He assured me that the woman who had introduced him to them was a good woman from his church who he had known and trusted for more than 30 years.

Finally, a guy with a long blonde pony tail covered with tattoos walked in.

“This is a kid?…He’s got to be in his 30’s.”

His newly “pregnant wife” came in with frizzy, curly hair done up in pigtails. I began to get the distinct impression that she was trying to play her “part” because she definitely had a few miles on her.

Then the guys “brother” came in. He was about a foot taller, had black hair and was juiced up on something.

I told them that I couldn’t find the title but that we would either find it tomorrow or get a duplicate title.

Then things took an unexpected twist…

My mechanic offered to let them borrow his truck so he could get to work and I could find the title.

Stay tuned…

So far, my 55th year on this planet has been a roller coaster. In the last 16 days, I have…

• burned my arm during an emergency oil change on my lawnmower
• had my first physical in over 6 years confirm that I am in great health
• been informed by my dentist that I needed a root canal
• stumbled onto a great deal on a tree and some shrubs for our house
• been unable to plant said items because I couldn’t get out of bed!
• been master of ceremonies for our Sunday service
• and been pulled over for driving 36 in a 25 MPH zone!

So you can understand if I have a blank look on my face when someone asks me, “How’s it going?”

When I got home from work yesterday, I was cautiously optimistic that we were actually going to get our plants in the ground.

I had managed to convince/persuade/cajole/command my wife to help me. We bought a bag of soil amendment and got some last minute tips on successful planting at the nursery.

When we returned home, I grabbed the shovel and carefully finished digging the hole for the maple tree that I had started on Thursday night.

The next step was preparing the soil. Now, in my mind, mixing 2/3 soil with 1/3 compost is kind of like mixing ingredients in the kitchen. And my wife is REALLY good at that. And I am not. So, although I didn’t say it quite like that, my wife bought my sales pitch and agreed to do that part.

I grabbed the bag of compost from the bed of our truck, brought it over, tossed it on the ground, grabbed my utility knife, squatted down and cut the end of the bag open.

The story then takes an almost unbelievable twist at this juncture (pun not intended at all!!!!!!!)

When I went to stand up and take a step back, the bottom of my leg twisted one way and the top twisted in the other. I grabbed my knee and fell to the ground like a freshly cut tree!

As I was writhing in pain in my front yard, I started saying,”No! No, no, no! I refuse this!”

I managed to lift myself into an upright position. I tried walking it off while my wife mixed the soil.

After we finally got the tree into the ground, my wife suggested that I stop and go inside.

But I was not finished…

I grabbed the shovel and said, “The pioneers wouldn’t have stopped” and started digging the next hole with my right leg.

By the time I started the third hole, my knee was trying to move in directions that it was not designed to move. It occurred to me that many of the pioneers probably spent the rest of their life walking with a limp.

As we got ready for bed, my wife made a splint out of one tightly rolled towel running down the inside of my leg secured by a second towel wrapped around my leg.

As I swung my leg into the bed, I laughed out loud at my pitiful condition. How was I going to get out of bed in the morning? I can’t bend my leg…but what if my back locks up? I can’t do my usual stretching exercises.

Well, the good news is that I did make it out of bed. By  the afternoon, we had found a full length knee brace on Craig’s List for $25 and a friend loaned me a set of crutches.

But for the second consecutive weekend, I am completely immobilized!

Outside of going to work, I have done very little this week. Every evening was spent resting my back. And each morning, I was rewarded with a little more freedom of movement.

However, when I got out of bed this morning, it seemed as if I was reliving Monday morning all over again.

Breathtaking pain shot from my lower back!

I had the same helpless feeling you get when someone twists your arm behind your back and then starts lifting it up higher and higher. I didn’t cry but I was pleading for mercy!

The fact that I was once again reduced to this condition really ticked me off!

“Lay around for three days and now I get this?!?!…

(plead for mercy)…grumble, grumble…(wince and plead)…

“That’s it! I’m done with this resting!”

After all, I still had trees and bushes sitting in pots out in our front yard!

Now, I don’t want you to think that I just charged out there like a bull in a china shop when I came home from work…because I didn’t.

If you want an accurate picture, I slowly bent down oh so slowly and laced up my work boots. Then I slowly stood up and gingerly walked out and grabbed my shovel.

I just wanted to see if I could make some progress…

just a little progress…

please…

I gently put the shovel in the ground and then carefully stood up on the top of the blade to drive it in. I repeated this several more times.

Then came the moment of truth…

I made sure my form was as close to perfect as I could get it and…

I actually lifted a half full shovel of dirt out of the ground without collapsing into a heap!

Although it was very slow and pretty pitiful, I worked slowly and was able to make a decent amount of progress on digging a hole for our new Japanese maple tree before it was time to call it quits for the night.

Two weeks ago, I turned 54. Since then, it feels like my life has been turned upside down.

Yesterday was my son’s birthday. I called him as soon as I got on the road.

By the time that I arrived at the 1/2 mile long section of my drive home that passes through a residential area, I was already engrossed in listening to him give the latest update on what has been happening in his life.

About two blocks away, I noticed a thin, clear light bar on top of a white car heading toward me. I started pondering how today’s police departments have switched from trying to prevent crime to catching people. There is more money in it. After all, there are pensions that must be funded! So, instead of the red lights on top of a black and white police car, now we have nearly invisible lights on cars painted to look like any other vehicle.

Anyway, all of these thoughts passed through my mind while I was listening to my son…until he drove by me and turned his lights on!

I got pulled over for speeding.

36 in a 25 mile per hour zone.

What was I thinking? I never had the slightest sense that I was speeding.

Some people claim that we haven’t made any progress in racial relations in the United States. I would beg to differ! I got to witness up close and personal a young black man writing a ticket to a middle age (OK, old) white guy! I’d call that progress!

His demeanor seemed like he was relatively new. The Scripture from Romans 13 came to my mind…”he (civil authority) is a minister of God for good.” Perhaps the reason that I never thought to check how fast I was going was because the Lord wanted to encourage this young man by giving him an easy citation!

While he wrote me up, I thought of the many times I had whispered a plea that God would please cover me while I sped to get to work on time. There was no complaint inside of me. I knew that I had earned this one…many times over!

I actually said, “Thank you” when he handed me the ticket.

Wheb I compared the $75 fine that I have to pay to the years of mild speeding (+10 MPH) that I have been guilty of. I concluded that God was very merciful with me.

This morning, as I made the right hand turn to pass through this same section on my way to work, I then remembered instances where I had been frustrated with people who had quickly pulled out in front of me so they could drive 25 miles per hour! Maybe I had no cognizance that I was speeding because it looked normal to me!

Anyway, I’m not proud of it…but guilty as charged!