White Lightning Axiom: Redux: You talkin' to me!? What the Frick!?

Thursday, May 29, 2008


You talkin' to me!? What the Frick!?

Well, that was special. Everything has been moving along on a fairly even keel that the universe had to step in and smack me down good. Just another day of schadenfreude for the universe stomping on me ... but this time I nipped it in the bud. HAH! My a posteriori engagements with vehicular maintenance saved my but this time. It was an odd incident, but I've been having difficulty with the battery I installed in the POS SuperSaturn a few years back. Leaving the headlights on and draining the battery by natural result had weakened it to a point where turning the engine over from a cold start could be a death rattle. I was surprised by this though. I had just stopped off at the DayCare/ReEducation Facility to extract the Tyrants and head off to the Swim Club when the situation occurred. I tried to restart the engine and heard two clicks ... then POOF! Nothing. Every electronic system in the pilot's console went blank. No lights, no digital clock, no constantly beeping/dinging alert of unfastened seatbelt harness or door ajar. I shrugged and went into the trunk where I had a jump pack and tried to reanimate the critical systems ... only to find out that there was not enough juice to do the job. So, in a fit of panic, I call the Mrs and let her know that the 'Fit had hit the Shan'. She would be there within the hour. Just as I was terminating the SOS request, one of the mothers (Maddie's Mom) from the Tyrant's class was wandering by and asked if I needed a jump. I gleefully accepted her benevolent offer ... but I was parked with the front of the vehicle pointed down-hill ... against the edge of the lot. Alas, to garner her spare electrons, I had to ask the Tyrants to disembark and go play while I pushed the multi-ton bock of inert metal and fiberglass uphill, for 10 meters, with a bad back, and knee, and shoulder. EGADS! But I was determined and perseverance won the day. She pulled up, I connected the jumper cables and the POS SS sprang to life. IT'S ALLLIIVVVVEEE! Quick Egor, break out the champagne and alert the villagers to sharpen the pitchforks and distributed torches. Now, I had a choice. I could still take the Tyrants to the Swim Club but I would either have to get the Mrs to meet me there and give me a jump or leave the engine running for an hour and hope for the best. Pollute the planet and tempt the local youth with a free ride? Tweak the Mrs by having her drive all over damnation to keep the auto limping along? No good choices there. Then, there was another plan that the Mrs suggested: Go to the Uber Mechanic Chris and ask him for a battery. Well, yeah, of course! But Chris had moved his shop around the corner so I needed to pummel my way through afternoon traffic to get there. Better than going to one of the other shops miles away and ... yeah. So, I engage in mortal combat with the other harried rush-hour gladiators only to find that Chris had NO INVENTORY since the move ... but I could go up to the street where I just picked up the Tyrants where there is a Napa Auto Parts warehouse and they would sell me one with no problem. Urk ... I just slogged through that swamp. So be it. Got the battery ... dive back through the same traffic jam ... and arrive at the manor 30 minutes after initially killing my battery. I quickly changed batteries while the Tyrants got changed into their uniforms for TSD and did their homework. By 1730 (1 hour post energy death), the cold fusion battery was swapped and we were rolling off to practice. HAH! Take that universe! And so it did ... but It came back to haunt me the next day.

This morning at the late hour of 0830, I had my second PT session. This one was not anything like the first where we played the 1000 question game and did a load of mobility/flexibility tests. No, this was where we had the pleasure to forgo the usual niceties and went right into the torture session with Tiffany BoneCrusher, bugbear of all soft-tissue injuries and strained sinew. So, she twisted and mangled and pummeled my tender ligaments into a pulpy mess before shooing me out the door ... see you next week! All cheery and happy with her gristly work done, I pour myself out the door and pray that I do not undo all her machinations before my next visit.

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