Adam Asked Eve for a New Aardvark

 Your love is like  shingles

My oven is rusting.

This is not a problem I've ever heard before.

But that doesn't keep the oven from sitting there, rusting, on purpose.

From the 32 seconds I spent on auto repair, I remember you have to sand it first, before painting.

Unfortunately it doesn't work that way with ovens. Yes, you have to sand it, but you can't use just any old paint on it. Unless, of course, you want to use it as fireworks on July 4th. This idea is wonderfully appealing to me, but I fear I won't be able to get the necessary permits by then.

Mrs. lefty has never seen an oven rust. Penny has never seen an oven rust, or if she has, she's keeping it a secret. I'm sure I can search for an oven repainter, cuz it would be cool to get rid of the rust and have a purple oven, but I think this operation would cost well over what a new oven would. Plus I hate having to pack up the oven and ship it out for a few weeks.  

Boiling water in the microwave just isn't the same. My mother told me this. My mother also told me water had to be boiled for at least a certain amount of time or 'it isn't right.' When she told me food tasted different on different plates, I should have known something was not right, but I'm a bit obtuse as a rule.

So we need a new oven, unless we'd prefer to watch the existing one disintegrate, eventually to be used as a rusty, grossly inefficient room heater. This is especially inconvenient as we approach summer. The whoopie gee-whiz colors should be interesting. I'm told there's aluminum/graphite,black, cobalt blue, and red. I don't want red because it keeps the groceries hotter than the other colors, and it makes your auto insurance go up.  If I get a sufficiently modern-looking color, things will go bad: all the other appliances will slow down or go on strike. I don't blame them.. modern sticks out like string theory professors at strip clubs. So what goes with old, drab, and dusty? Do they sell ovens with 70s wallpaper on them? Extra dust? I'm not positive, but I think the kitchen's birth certificate is older than mine. This begs the question of which gets the $17,000 - the left handed 1957 Stratocaster or the kitchen? Of course this is a trick question: we don't have $17k for either.

After a brief check, I located several Biggo Stores with ovens. I know the prices have gone off the rails, but you can easily spend $4,000 on a range (they're not called ovens anymore, and 'whorehouse' was taken). Naturally you can get 'connected' whorehouses ovens, whereby people from all over the planet can hack in and play with your oven.

I'm looking for an oven

We have all brands in all ranges.

Good.

We have a bunch that will stop and start on your command, and hook into the internet.

But if it hooks into the internet, people from all over the world can hack into it.

Not these - they're extra secure.

How so?

They plug in with green cables.

Oh.

What were you looking for?

She had her heart set on one that heats up, boils stuff, and bakes cakes.

Hmmm... no... I'm sorry.. we don't have those.

Boil water for tea?

Ah... nope.

Bake cookies?

Not a one.

So I could hand you $4,000 and you'd deliver a stylish box that people from everywhere could hack into, plus it could talk to other connected appliances.

Delivery and setup are extra.

Who's going to bake cakes?

Your wife?

I see. Have a nice day.

My mother called to wish me a happy fathers day. I was a little surprised, but Mrs. lefty said she does it every year, through each of our cockers. Men frequently have wives around for remembering things. Now ask her what she was doing before she told me that....  mind you, I get mothers day cards all the time.

Today I identify as  a non-rusty, level, temperature-correct oven

The Car 

After the 'wholesale alterations to the body,' it went to a collision shop for an estimate. There is a dealership right across the street, so we had to take it a few miles away to a shop. I guess I shouldn't complain - the last car took 7 weeks to get fixed at the dealership. 

I should have known something was up.... I got a few dollars for fathers day.

In the past, both the car and the house had the amazing ability to detect a few disposable dollars, and would break accordingly. I think they took turns...

HOUSE: I saw him get $50 - it's time to go into action!

CAR: Yeah, I want a set of brakes. It's my turn, right?

HOUSE: Yup, I got the roof patch last time

This went on for years.

It calmed down recently.

Uh-oh.

Unlike Dr. Fauci, I'm doing the science. In the past, when I got a few dollars, it sat in the bank. And I got screwed every time. This time I actually got to touch the crisp green bills. The science tells me to just give it up, I will not win.

I need a way to hide discretionary dollars from the house and car.

• If you're looking at a Fire tablet for Prime Day or in general, be aware that while they are android, they technically have to go through the Amazon store to get apps. Last time I checked, you could load regular old android software - if you insist upon getting one, please check this for yourself. Rest assured Amazon will suck up all available information on the tablet.
• I highly recommend not getting a Fire tablet.

We're all launching ourselves into the Future<tm>. Naturally, so is the advertising business.

You can now see all sorts of ads you never saw before in your life. There's the men's underwear, with long shots of men wearing it. Wife and I agree that no part of our lives is improved by looking at men's junk. So naturally, the next commercial is for some shaver that concentrates on men's junky area. The Ball Shaver 2000!  Also nope.

So thus far the Future<tm> is Junk. As a guy, I spend a lot of time thinking about (and with) mine. But there's no desire to see it on tv. If I get bored, I can watch the women's bladder control commercials. They make you feel 'pretty.' If I'm going to wear women's underwear, it ain't gonna be bladder control underwear. If I need bladder control underwear, I'm sure there will be a commercial for it in the next few weeks. 

• You think you've had computer problems... the Hubble Telescope's computer has gone wonky. It's in Safe Mode now. The problem looks to be bad RAM and one was swapped in. Unfortunately it hasn't helped.
• I will never complain about having to remove a computer case again

Salma Hayek is costarring in "The Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard," with Ryan Reynolds (owner of some wireless company). The likelihood of me seeing this movie is fairly close to nil, so please send Salma. Thank you.

• a New Joisey water park will have to modify its reopening plans after the 'High Anxiety' waterslide caught fire and burned down.
• water ride caught fire

Carnival Cruise Lines just got hit with a cyber attack.

This is fresh off the news that Carnival will be sailing again after the Shit Attack and the Flying AIDS Attack.

I have less desire to sail on a cruise than to swim in the antarctic.

But if I lost all my memory, personality, decided to get my legs sewn together, and book a cruise, I'd avoid Carnival.

• Next week, several Carnival ships will be hit by lightning, 500 miles from anywhere.
• The week after, cholera.
• For those of you playing along at home, the month of July will be Break a Leg Month, where the lack of ship stability will cause most cruisers to leave with broken bones.
• If you're intrepid, brave, and stupid enough, August will feature random Carnival ships eaten up by random whirlpools and tidal events<tm>.
• In September, planes will fly into some ships, to commemorate 9-11.
• And for the rest of the year, the ship's batteries and generators will fail spectacularly, in an event passengers will mistakenly call fireworks. They will be dead in the water for weeks.

Philly News

A Philadelphia man died from injuries from being struck with a baseball bat.

sports are very violent

It's not that West Philly is tough, but 3 people were taken to the hospital from gunshot wounds suffered at a graduation party.

US Navy uses 40,000lb explosive to test warship in 'Full Ship Shock Trial'

if you're going to blow something up, 40,000lb explosives will get the job done

Swedish government toppled in no-confidence vote

[sigh]

If we turned the tv off for one hour....

Morning People May Be at Lower Risk of Depression Than Night Owls

Also at lower risk..

• people who eat more than 2 cupcakes per week
• people who know what a distributor cap is
• people who never leave the house
• people who get a lot of sex

The Unemployment Follies (#7) - Dusty White Shirts

[In this post, our hero has amazing difficulty in the act of becoming employed, in spite of major effort.]

COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET

The bedroom closet is a bit shallow but extremely wide.  I'd estimate that it could sleep two people, foot to foot.  Four people foot to foot and breast to breast; twenty-four people if you slice them correctly.  How, you ask, does this relate to employment?  By a damn fine thread, as most of my output tends to go.

When interviewing, I discovered it is strongly advised not to wear Hawaiian shirts.  A wag suggested I flout the system and wear Hawaiian underwear but the jury is still out on that.  After paying an absolutely frightening amount for a new dress shirt in the wrong size, the wife came up with about seven of them in the correct size. From the closet, of course.  I'm beginning to think that this closet occupies several more dimensions than we know of, as stuff seems to appear and disappear when searching.  It probably also does this when we're not searching, but I'll leave this to the quantum mechanics to work out (Shroedinger's shirt?).  Speaking of quantum effects, most everything in the closet has dust on it but only the very top.

So there are seven additional shirts in the correct size. This indicates that at some point, it was possible to purchase shirts off the shelf in the correct size.  Just not anymore, plus they're a lot more expensive.  Ain't progress grand?  I'm not good at math (or history or science or databases) but I'm going to say that these business shirts in the correct size look incredible for what must be sixteen years old.  No, really, they look every bit as good as the hideously expensive new shirt, including one that's almost the same shirt.

Speaking of Hawaiian shirts, I have a strange fondness for them.  Because of their dusty-topped condition, the wife decided to wash them.  As it turns out, I have rather a lot of them.  Really rather a lot of them.  The beauty of Hawaiian shirts (or most things) is that if you hold onto them long enough, they'll be back in style in a few years.  I don't want to say my shirts are old but they have come and gone out of style four times.

THE JOB SEARCH

One of my mentors suggested I arrange the Hawaiian shirts very close to the middle of the closet and the business shirts at the far unused end.  This way the Universe knows I need a job in which Hawaiian shirts are just fine and business shirts are laughed at.  So the Hawaiian shirts are just to the right of center, because if I cross the center line, my wife will bite me in a very sensitive place (and not in a good way).

Having located the jacket, with dust only on the top, I am now officially ready to go on interviews.  That is, if there were any.  According to the ads, there are many jobs available... just not for me, apparently.

The recruiters are driving me up a tree.  The metric tonne of Indian recruiters have called about very old jobs and want to submit me for them regardless of skills or location.  Last week I got calls about jobs in Colorado and Wyoming.  One job search turned up a result for restroom attendant (don't laugh - I applied).  Ok, maybe not.  The local recruiters are a different species altogether.  They call, spend some quality time with me, sound incredibly interested, all but promise me a job and then I never hear from then again.  I suspect these folks are recent graduates from local used car lots.  I don't want to tar all recruiters with the same slime - one of them has actually called me back.

I did find a government job.  I couldn't understand the job title or description, so I figured I'd be perfect for it and applied.

I am going to depart from this blog's entertainment and sarcasm focus to mention that this whole thing is downright depressing.


SUPPORTING THE AUTOMOTIVE REPAIR AND RENTAL INDUSTRIES

No post to this blog would be complete without some new and exciting information about the car.  The collision repair place for the insurer called to tell us the car was ready.  When we got there, we discovered that there was yet another five-hundred-dollar deductible.  This topic has actually gone to the realm of logic: how can an unemployed guy make five-hundred-dollars appear out of thin air?  You might be surprised to learn that my piles of hundreds have been depleted by unemployment and tithing to Dunkin Donuts for the dog's coffee.  And even if I had hundreds in the closet, they'd be dusty up top.

Not being independently wealthy has been complicated by another ironic phone call, this time from the insurance company.  It seems we are just about to exceed the number of rental car days for the year.  I've never even heard of this happening.  So every day that passes is another day we have to pay for our rental.

Causing five-hundred-dollars to appear is no small feat.  Do they expect me to pull it out of my buttocks?  Let's face it - if I could, as my friend pointed out, I wouldn't need a job.  Perhaps I'm just a masochist.

The entire process of getting the car repaired this time has been one of frustration.  I suppose it's ironic that this is the only time the person who hit us had insurance.  There was a huge amount of confusion over whose insurance was going to cover it and if theirs was, why were we paying a deductible.  After weeks and many phone calls, the repair place overruled the insurer and our insurance is covering it.  The lady in charge of the process possesses all the grace and charm of Genghis Khan.

Off we went to pick up our baby.  The wife got back into the rental and just looked at me.  What now? An additional part had to be repaired and the car, which was 'ready' the prior day, would take another hour or three.  And we're racing the clock on the rental.

Know what?  I have to give major points to Hyundai.  As you've undoubtedly read, we have driven a lot of rental cars lately (stop laughing) and my wife still prefers her Hyundai.  There are definitely features on the other cars that surpass ours (seats, stereo, handling) but the Hyundai is still the better car (or close) overall.  The current rental is from a country known for its meatballs.  We have this car because the choice was between it and a Mini Cooper.  It hurts me to even look at a Mini Cooper; my eyes feel cramped and unprotected.  I have never priced the Meatballmobile but I understand they're fairly expensive.  And after driving it for a few weeks, I'm not impressed.  It's bumpy as hell.  Yes, the power seats have presets and lower back support and the engine has balls BUT that doesn't justify its premium over the Hyundai.


WHAT IS LIVING IN THE KITCHEN

We have an issue with trashcans in our house.  By this I mean we have a Dog Issue.  He loves trash, among other things.  After the little monster kept getting into the trashcans, we bought the cans with the lids that you have to lift.  This kept the dog out for all of two weeks.  Between his innate intelligence and my wife's failure to put the lid back, he was back into things immediately.  Failing that, he just knocked the thing over and took what he wanted.

I have no idea whose idea this is or where it was found but we have a new trashcan.  This one is an automatic can, where you wave your hand over it and the lid opens by itself.  Then closes by itself.  Until the dog figures this one out, it's a perfect solution, plus it's pretty neato for the people.

The other night, we heard a weird noise in the kitchen.  Then the dog started barking in its general direction.  My parents would say we had ghosts - I'm skeptical.  It turned out to be the can, opening and closing by itself.  If the dog hadn't barked, I'd swear he just figured out how to operate it.

Bright as he is, he sometimes fails to notice his mortal enemy, the mailman, coming up the drive but the moment you put your coffee cup on the table, he starts barking like a rabid animal and circling the door.  I yell between hysterical barks and he somehow manages to completely ignore me.  If ignoring me weren't a regular occurance with everyone in the house, I'd be upset.

The Unemployment Follies (#5)

Well, it's been a real whirlwind since I last wrote.  And when I say a whirlwind, I mean that much effort has been put forth for absolutely nothing of any consequence in terms of gain.  Oh sure, I've been solicited for jobs halfway across the state, in the next state over, the state on the other side, up north of the next state over; for security guard, software engineer, governance manager (?), relationship director, project manager, and of course, my monthly offer for insurance sales.

I even had a call from a recruiter who was excited about a position, wanted to send my resume and references right over, set up a lunch for us, and never called back or responded to emails.  I specifically avoided references to his mother or family members and farm animals, as I'm told this could be considered offensive by some people.

As I type this, I just discovered that my Linked-In picture was taken down for violation of their terms. When you consider that the picture is of my pets, I fail to get this alleged violation.  Let's face it, a large number of Linked-In pictures are not pictures of the account owner.

HOUSE

My wife has gone on a house cleaning spree. This came as a shock to both of us, causing me to join her.   We've taken untold amounts of bags to the curb, freeing untold amounts of space inside the house. I even discovered there is carpet next to my bed.  While I will cop to being a slob, I'm not claiming responsibility for this, instead preferring to blame it on the dog.  I tidied and arranged all reading material on the side of the bed. The dog proceeded to untidy every single page, in addition to tearing the trash apart on a nightly basis.  After two or three times, I gave up and let him rearrange things to his liking.  Even after we got a flip-top trash can, he still goes there first, every single evening, to see if there is any more tasty trash that needs to be shredded (all over the bed).

With all of this wonderful new-found space, the items in my house are having a difficult time adjusting.  In fact, they're having such a difficult time, they're acting out.  I just watched my wife carry some wash downstairs and a vacuum randomly put itself in her way and got knocked over as a result.  Whenver I reach for something on a clean table, something else falls off.  It's only a matter of time until things start leaping about the house on their own.  One guest swore a cup hurled itself at her.  She was probably correct.


CAR

You know what's coming, right?

It's been quite a few weeks.

Our insurer has missed us.

Yes, someone hit the car. Again.  In fact, I stopped counting a while ago.  Guitar players can't count past four anyway (and I know my limitations.. 1-2-3-4!).  I can only estimate and I refuse to estimate, as it would make me sad(der).  We didn't even report the last time it happened.

This time, some idiot stopped short, caused my wife to stop short, causing the brand new black Mercedes behind her to slam right into her. He tried to avoid the car, managing to only ruin one rear corner of the Target Hyundai.  This being Philthydelphia, they had to wait two hours for the police. I suppose she was lucky, as the Philthy cops don't usually respond to anything that doesn't involve a gun. Did I mention that the idiot who caused the accident drove away?

This morning I am yanked out of bed at some horrid hour (before noon) because someone's coming over.  Why should I care?  Because something happened and the bank account needs money or we won't be able to pick up a rental car.  So someone's coming over with money, bless them.

I am horrified.

I got into the car for the first time, post-accident, this morning.  As we're driving down the street, I hear a really bad rubbing of some sort.  Turning to the wife with that look, she explained that she told me about this.

Huh?

Yeah, it's ok.

Huh?  The horrible rubbing noise is ok?

Yeah, the guy(?) said it was ok.

What guy?

The guy from the accident.

Ah.

So I'm driving, my heart (and wallet) pounding due to the rubbing noise (that's ok). When we parked, I took a look for the root of the rubbing.  No problem, I said... it's only the broken, very hot exhaust pipe, sitting against a rear tire.  No, it's ok.

Is your skull coming apart at the seams yet?  Mine is.

Finally we managed to obtain a rental car.  It's a lot nicer than our car, even if we're just talking about the extreme lack of dents and parts hanging off it.  Since it's black, the polar opposite of white, our luck will be much better with this one.  And I say this because the last rental we got when the last bit of body work had to be done after the last accident, had to have its mirror replaced after someone hit that.  The cost of the Mirror Operation exceeded the amount I paid for each of my first three cars.

Following the wife to the dealer, I pulled in behind her. This was made more difficult by the random parking arrangements of the existing cars.  But all of this was no matter, as this was the wrong location. The correct body shop location was a few blocks down the road (it's all the same dealership).

After locating the correct body shop, we somehow managed to park (this place had the same Parking IQ as the last one).   Some lady, with an 'I just sucked on a lemon' look, came past me and drove our car to the garages.   A few minutes later my wife comes up to me and says we may have to cancel the entire operation, as they won't look at the car for a few weeks if it's driveable.  I point out that it's not driveable, given the rubbing (that's ok).  Lemon Face brought a mechanic out, pointing out the correct area of damage (differentiating it from the other areas of damage).  Mechanic agree with me.  As it turned out, the rubbing noise (that's ok) turned out to be not ok.

Wife explained that Lemon Face was agitated and didn't want to admit the car for repair. Regardless, the repair would take two to three weeks.  For some reason, business is good for the humongous dealer's body shop (with twenty bays or more).  And I thought it was just us....


GIMPY

I casually asked my wife why her walking was worse than normal.  She casually answered that her knee had been bothering her since the accident.

DING!

I didn't want to overstep my boundaries or appear parental but I suggested that she stop cleaning for a few moments and if her knee hurt, maybe, perhaps, she should get it looked at professionally.

I didn't want to bother you.

DING!



I want my wife back.

And my car.

And my typing, which has gotten extremely dyslexic lately.


Meanwhile, the dealer, body shop, car rental place and insurance person all know us on a first-name basis.

But It's Not Fair

As a certified computer geek, I have to know how computers work.  I believe this qualifies me to want to know how most things work, including humans.  I was always curious about the much-hyped inner child.  People used to tell me about it but I never bought the concept.

I think I'm starting to get it.

I don't hear voices but if I did, the first one I'd hear would say `It's not FAIR.'
You know the voice.  You've heard it yourself.  You've said it yourself.

It's the voice of a childhood sexual abuse survivor who found out that in addition to years of therapy, she also has to endure fibromyalgia and chronic pain.

It's missing out on xmas bonus because you were hired two days late (in spite of the value you added)

It's your car breaking down the day after the warranty expires.

It occurred to me a while back that I had to disabuse myself of the notion that life was fair.  As it turns out, I'm having a bit of difficulty letting go....

By way of example, I have always driven used cars.  When I say used cars, I mean old and inevitably falling apart from the inside.  The cars were never pretty (nor am I) but I owned what I drove.  After doing some math, we discovered we could afford a new(ish) car for less than what was going into repairing two ancient land yachts.

For the first time in my life, the laughter I heard was directed at me instead of the car.  The new car simply failed to routinely break.

It failed to break right up until the first ding in the windshield.  Ding #1 was quickly followed by Ding #2 ("my wife went to Vermont and all I got was this crack in my windshield").  After the Dings, we discovered that some genius (the Auto Manufacturing Conspiracy) decided to put performance tires on Hyundais (and most other cars), at around $125+ a pop.  My car needs performance tires like I need a Speedo.

My wife is what's known as an Asshole Magnet, except this extends to her driving.  I have seen assholes come out of nowhere to try and assault our car while she's driving.

Two weeks ago some idiot sideswiped the car while my wife drove.  Today I got a call that she was waiting for the police because yet another asshole pulled an Instant U-Turn in the middle of the road and banged into our (apparently highly invisible) car.

I would like to publicly thank the Philthydelphia Police for keeping both parties in a vehicular accident waiting for close to an hour, at which point both parties simply gave up and drove off.  I thought people were joking when they told me Philly police don't show up unless there's a gun involved.  These are apparently the same police who arrested two guys for rafting in the flood for lack of common sense.

And since this was a Philly driver, there was no insurance.

The partially overhyped Hurricane Irene attempted to turn my basement into a swimming pool.

So yeah, my alleged inner child is having alleged inner fits right about now, screaming "It's not FAIR!"


--------------------------

No, it's not fair.  Many people have it worse.  At least I have my health (and currently, a fever).