Posts Update VII

Again With The Chocolate Lasagna?
There are now 85 comments on this post and it ranks number two in a google search for "chocolate lasagna." Unfortunately, the delightful dessert is still not back on the menu so I have not been back to the Olive Garden.

Two Poles And A Mound Of Dirt
We are back to having just a single telephone pole in our front yard. Over the span of about a month, many crews of guys with bucket trucks and hard hats visited our two poles and moved all of the wires (and whatever else hangs up there) from the old one to the new and improved one. All of my utilities are still performing in the same way as far as I can tell.

A few weeks later they took the old pole away and filled in the hole. They did not, however, plant any grass in the surrounding eroded dirt mound. I'll get to that at some point.



Out Of The Cellar
This could be the year for the Pirates. Not to finally win a World Series, make the playoffs or anything like that. If they turn in another losing season this year it will be their 17th in a row, setting a record for futility among all major professional sports since records have been kept. The worst. Ever. Hey, they have a nice stadium though.

Bill's Family
Bill Cowher turned down an offer to be the head coach of the Cleveland Browns for the 2009 season. I think he read my blog entry and just wanted to prove me wrong. Touché, Bill. You got me this time. Thank goodness.

Auto Servi6e
Just a bit after I made fun of their graffiti-esque sign, the entire garage and attached building were given a fresh coat of real paint.

I'm telling you - important decision makers read this blog and act or react accordingly (see Bill Cowher above). If we could just break through to the Olive Garden board of directors...

Anyway, soon after the exterior makeover a new business moved into the building beside the garage. It was called The Outer Skin II or something ridiculous like that. Their signs advertised Exoticwear, whatever that is, and there were a bunch of scantily clad mannequins in the front windows wearing seasonally themed undergarments. The business has already closed down and/or moved out. I don't think there was a market for Exoticwear in that particular area.

The Corsaga
I just turned 99,900 miles in the Corsica, and I have a camera in my car just waiting for the big day. Stay tuned!

The Corsaga

My Corsica has been through a lot in the past year. Almost too much for one car to handle. Almost.

Sorry this is so long - it really is a saga...

4.17.08
The engine had been running a little hot for a few days and the problem started to get worse on my way home from work. I was just trying to make it to my driveway before the car overheated and so far I had been pretty lucky with traffic and stop lights. Then I made the right turn into my neighborhood. That's when the cop who was following me turned on his lights (the red and blue ones) and pulled me over.

He said my license plate was coming up "dead" - which usually means that it was surrendered back to the state because it's no longer needed. It was, however, still hanging on the back of my car. This is not the first time I've had trouble with my custom plate. I assumed it was another mix up and went on my way with a warning (or whatever) and documentation of the incident (since I had all of the correct paperwork).

The officer never said why he ran my plate in the first place. I think he was just intrigued with the awesomeness of it. But my engine reached about 1,000 degrees while sitting and waiting for the process to work itself out. When I finally got home I let the car cool down and checked the oil.

It looked like a mint chocolate milkshake. Antifreeze had seeped through the gaskets in the engine and mixed with the oil. That is very bad.

My father and my mechanic both confirmed that it was very bad.

My wife and I decided that the best thing to do was to see if everything could be fixed and if it made sense to do the repairs and keep the Corsica on the road. It's a great car for driving in the city, it still gets good gas mileage and we own it.

We were just under the break even point.

4.18.08 - 4.25.08
The Corsica ended up being in the shop for an entire week. Luckily, I was out of town on a business trip so it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It needed an engine rebuild, new gaskets, a new thermostat, a radiator flush, an oil change/refill, a state inspection and an emissions test. The new wiper blades were free. Bonus.

5.12.08
I had waited to renew the Corsica's registration until we made sure we were keeping it. I went to the PA DMV website to fill out the forms and pay for the next year. I got all the way to the last screen, but when I clicked to confirm I was given an error code and a phone number to call.

Apparently the police officer was right. My plate was not coming up at all in the DMV database. I explained the situation (which was that there was no situation and I hadn't done anything). They said an investigation team would be put on the case (I'm serious) and that I would get a call in three business days.

Then two amazing things happened. I did get a call on the third business day, and the person on the other end of the line was helpful. Remember, this is the DMV we're talking about. Amazing.

She said that it was a clerical error and everything would be corrected - all I needed to do was make an etching of my plate and fax it to them. Yes, an etching.

So at 10:30 in the morning I'm kneeling down on Penn Avenue in the city behind the parallel parked Corsica making a rubbing of my license plate with a piece of copy paper and a pencil. If you think I raised the eyebrows of some people walking by (and a policeman in a patrol car), you are correct.

I faxed it and they fixed it. I was able to renew the registration online by noon.

I really need to get a new license plate.

5.30.08
When I pulled out of work onto the main road, it sounded like something was stuck between my left front tire and the wheel well. There was a thumping noise every time I straightened out the car after turning left. I got home using only right turns and took the tire off of the car. The torsion bar had broken through the rusty lower control arm and shattered all of the bushings in the area (read: this is bad).

It was fixed in less than a day (not by me).

7.31.08
I came out of work to a flat tire. I changed it to the donut spare using the quality tools included underneath my trunk carpeting, washed myself off, and drove home.

8.1.08
Steph took the tire (from yesterday) to get patched. Meanwhile, I got into the Corsica to come home from work and pressed the brake pedal to shift out of PARK. It went all the way to the floor. Brake fluid was spraying all over my left rear tire and the road. I called AAA and both the Corsica and I got a ride home via tow truck. The driver and I got to talking about all of the stories above this one and he charged me half price because he felt bad for us.

It was fixed in less than a day (not by me).

The patched tire was reattached for free. Bonus.

12.6.08
I was at the mall trying to buy a new digital camera. When I called, the store said that they had one in stock, but they did not actually have one. I was only there for ten minutes, but during that time it started to snow outside and there was already a coating on the parking lot. And there was traffic everywhere.

It took 45 minutes to get to the intersection at the top of the mall's main entrance road. As I was waiting at the stop sign, the traffic light at the bottom of the entrance turned green and (what I would find out later to be) a guy in a black 2007 Subaru Impreza came toward me up the hill. His car started to turn but then slid on the fresh snow and slammed right into my driver's door. No one was hurt, and after 20 minutes of information exchange I was again sitting in traffic on my way home. The door still worked but was buckled in the middle and didn't seal correctly. Even when it was closed I could hear the outside from the inside.

The Subaru's insurance rep called a few days later and said they would pay for all of the Corsica's repairs. I even got a PT Cruiser to drive for the three days it took to replace, prep, paint and buff the new door on my old car.

All in all, fixing the Corsica cost his insurance company twice what it is worth. Plus the rental. I have no idea why they didn't total my car, but I'm OK with their decision.

I can, however, still hear the outside when I'm inside. But I did get a little bottle of custom mixed touch-up paint. Bonus.

2.15.09
The Corsica has over 99,750 miles on it and is still rolling. I'm hoping for 100,000 soon and fewer stories to tell...

Gas Man

There are a lot of warnings printed on things these days. Some are common sense, while others are helpful reminders - things like "Do not feed the alligators" and "Remove infant before folding for storage."

You can bet someone did whatever the warning says not to do. Kind of like the guy I saw at the gas station last night.

He started by filling up a two gallon container right on the bed of his still running truck. Then he moved the nozzle to the truck's tank, clicked the hold-open latch, and got back in and sat down on the passenger's side of his vehicle. He rustled through the glove box for a minute.

Then, with the nozzle still pumping gas and the truck still idling, he walked into the convenience store.

Let's count the unheeded warnings (that were clearly posted on the gas pump):

1. Fill portable containers on the ground
2. Turn off engine
3. Remain outside vehicle
4. Stay at pump while fueling

All he needed to do was light up a cigarette and he would have been a perfect 5 for 5.

Maybe he did. I didn't stick around to see the rest.

Those warnings are probably there for a reason, and the Corsica and I weren't interested in witnessing what was about to happen.

Posts Update VI

It's been a while. Many things that have happened lately are updates of previous items...

No Checks In The Mail
The price of mailing a first class one ounce letter has just gone up to 41 cents. There is no better time to start paying bills online.

The Postal Service also introduced a "forever stamp" - one that costs 41 cents now but will be considered valid even after a future rate increase. I would love to test out the actual foreverness of this item. But since I have decided to stop funding the USPS, I'll have to rely on someone else to let me know if that stamp is sufficient postage in 2037.

The Replacements
I recently took the Corsica to get inspected. I got a mid-morning call from the mechanic. He said that he was finished and the car was ready to be picked up - it passed with flying colors. No replacement necessary. Roll on, powder blue Chevy.

Lawn Care
I would imagine that if you live in a house overlooking a golf course you might expect to get some hacker's stray golf ball in your yard every now and then. To be honest, I've been the guy searching near someone's deck/landscaping/sprinkler after an errant shot once or twice.

I don't live on a golf course, though - I live three streets away from a bowling alley. Which may explain why I found half a bowling ball in my side yard by the driveway. I'm not kidding. Half. Now that's an errant shot.

Kennywood's Open
Seriously, Kennywood is open daily for the 2007 season as of May 16th. Theme days begin May 27th. And yes, your zipper is down.

Again With The Chocolate Lasagna?
As of right now, there are 38 comments on the Chocolate Lasagna post. And only three of them are from people related to me. Folks I don't know from all over the country are visiting and sharing their frustration over the disappeared dessert. Also, someone from Darden Restaurants (the company that owns and operates Olive Garden) visited this post. We're getting the message across to the people in charge! Don't stop the fight! Or whatever it is we're doing!

Crazy Running Lady
In a rare and fortunate turn of events, I was able to snap a picture of the elusive Crazy Running Lady. Blouse, dress, handbag and all.

She must have come out of her winter hiding place. Or maybe she circled the entire globe and is back where she started.

Two Poles And A Mound Of Dirt
No work has been done on either pole or the mound of dirt in my front yard. The only thing different is that they have been joined by a little flag marking the underground natural gas line. Sounds like we could be in for some fun.

The Accused
Apparently my wife's chat with the police officer worked. About two weeks after being charged with parking in a restricted area, I received another piece of mail from the Magisterial District Judge. This one was a Notice of Withdrawal of Charges against me and my car. It's like nothing ever happened.

Change Of Plans
We were approved for the insurance policy despite my incident on testing day. Since there was such a clamoring for a picture after the original post, I have finally decided to upload one. Even the untrained eye can see that the sarcastic section occupies by far the largest piece of my cerebral tissue. Next is the thinking about cookies part.

Auto Servi6e

There is a nondescript building just off of Route 51 on my way to work. It's kind of a run down little place, with a couple of garage doors and a bunch of cars parked out front. It could be just another used car dealership like many others along the same stretch.

But it isn't. In fact, until recently, I had no idea what it really was. Apparently no one else knew either. So the owners decided to share with us what happens in their place of business.

Not with a big lighted sign or anything like that. No, that would be too ordinary. Instead, they decided to spray paint directly on the shingles of the building's overhang.

AUTO SERVI6E it now says. Whatever that is.

There are many things wrong with this situation. The worst of which is probably the decision to spray paint three foot tall words on your building without being sure how to spell both of them.

Or the decision to leave your attempt on there for a year.

I'm all for the private mechanic. With the number of car dealers and chains around town, it must be difficult to make it in this day and age as a small time auto repair business. But I'm pretty sure this spray paint situation isn't helping things. People expect a little attention to detail when entrusting someone to work on their ride. You've got to keep part numbers, makes, models, and invoices correct.

This is not a good advertisement for the quality of work that goes on inside this building. Or maybe it is. I know that I'll never take the Corsi6a there.

Bill's Family

Bill Cowher resigned as coach of the Pittsburgh Steelers yesterday. He decided to skip the last year his contract with the team so that he can spend some more time with his family.

That choice also means he will be skipping a reported $4.5 million in salary. That's a lot.

Many have seen this coming, though. He bought a new home (estate, actually) in North Carolina after last year's Super Bowl win. He didn't agree to a contract extension after discussions with the Steelers last summer. He was a little less intense on the sidelines last season.

Some people have speculated that Bill's wife, Kaye, is the real decision maker in the family. They think that she was in charge of the home purchase and of Bill choosing to resign. I think that if she had anything to do with that sweater he was wearing during his last press conference, she should be relieved of her decision making duties immediately.

I'll tell you who had nothing to do with this decision - Bill's three daughters. Two of them attend Princeton University and the youngest is a sophomore in high school. I feel like this whole thing is a lot of pressure for those kids. I mean, he's basically pointing to them as the public reason for quitting one of the best coaching jobs in the NFL. Do you really think they want him there constantly? And visiting them at college? How long before he hears one of them politely ask him to "go back to work" and "get out of my business"?

They don't want you hanging around the house all the time, Bill. They don't care that you are forfeiting $4.5 mil to watch some girls high school basketball games. Find something to do.

Everyone knows that Bill's family is not the real reason he resigned. The talk is that he will sit out this year and then return to coaching for a much higher salary. The family excuse was just floated out there so that Steelers fans couldn't get too angry. How can you say bad things about a guy who is taking some time off to spend with his kids? Even though 2/3 of them are already in college 450 miles away...

Just wait until he comes back next year to coach the Cleveland Browns. Then you'll hear some bad things.

And then it will all make $en$e.

Especially for the Cowher girls. They can't wait.

Change Of Plans

Today was supposed to be fun. I was going to have to get up early for the guy coming to do the tests for our life insurance application. But after that it was going to be banana chocolate chip pancakes, playing with my daughter, finishing up Christmas shopping, and working at night cutting together some tv spots.

I am not at work. I am writing this blog instead. Let's rewind...

The life insurance tests were easy. There were some yes/no questions followed by a weigh-in. Then the tourniquet and needle came out to draw two vials of blood. And to finish it off was the ever popular urine sample.

I was doing well until the last one. Let's rewind...

You are supposed to fast for eight hours before these tests so that your results are not tainted by anything you eat. Imagine the effects of a case of Mountain Dew on your blood sugar. Anyway, I fasted. At the time of the blood draw, there had been nothing in my stomach for approximately 11 hours. But everything still seemed to be going according to plan.

I carefully filled the urine sample cup to the appropriate level and put it on the shelf in the bathroom. It was almost time for those pancakes.

And then I started to feel a little nauseated. My vision started to narrow as a widening ring of black closed in. I thought that maybe I should sit down for a bit.

I'm not sure what happened next. I'm told it was a thud and a crash and some rattling.

The next thing I remember was feeling like I was waking up from a dream. I heard my wife yelling to me and then I smelled the pungent chemical mix of smelling salts touching every corner of my sinuses. I was straddling the toilet with my head against the shelves above it.

After a cold washcloth on my neck and another whiff of the smelling salts, I stumbled out to the couch to lie down. I was told to elevate my feet and get more blood to my brain. I ate a granola bar. I put frozen peas on the welts of my swelling forehead. The life insurance tests guy declared that I was "mentating well" and left.

Then I got nauseated again. After a couple of trips to the bathroom to revisit the granola bar, my wife informed me that she was calling the doctor. Then she informed me that I was going to the Emergency Room. I informed her that I was going back to the bathroom for a minute.

We compromised and called my EMT friend, who came over and did a battery of tests on me. He said that I looked OK, but that I should go to the ER anyway to get some fluids and stop the nausea. And get my head checked out. And put my wife's mind at ease.

I informed him that this was not the answer I was looking for, since I still had the pancakes, the playing, the shopping and the working to do.

My wife drove me to the ER. I told six people the story of what happened, including the doctor. The first thing they did was draw a couple of vials of blood. Umm...isn't that what got me here in the first place? Then they put a saline drip into an IV.

But wait, there's more.

I also got wheeled down to the X-Ray department for a CT Scan. It was all very dramatic. But being pushed around the halls of the hospital in that bed was fun.

Almost five hours later I was discharged with an assurance of no permanent damage, a coupon for 20% off my co-pay and a doctor's excuse for not going to work. Hence me not working tonight.

But wait, there's more.

I got some pictures of my brain. I just asked for the CT Scan photos to be burned onto a CD so that I could take them with me. My wife thinks they are a little freaky, but I informed her that she's the one who made me go there in the first place. I might as well get something cool to remember the trip.

In retrospect, I can share with you some of the things I learned today.

• If you are going to pass out, do it on something soft.
• You can get a copy of your brain pictures if you ask nicely.
• If you are ever in position to make the choice, do the urine test before the blood test.

Getting life insurance almost killed me. How ironic.

The Accused

I received an interesting piece of mail today. There among the ads and bills and notices about the availability of Verizon FiOS in my neighborhood was an official letter from a Magisterial District Judge. He wanted to let me know that I was a defendant in a case under his jurisdiction.

The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania
vs.
sinkerbeam

What? I don't recall ever doing anything wrong.

Luckily, he also included a copy of the citation that accused me of breaking the law. I looked through it carefully and noticed that a few things were incorrect.

I was being charged with parking my tan Toyota in a restricted parking area on Greenridge Drive. The fine was $15 plus fees, making the total due around $55.

If you know me or have ever read this blog before, you are probably pretty aware that I own a powder blue Chevy Corsica. I do not (and never plan to) own a Toyota of any color. Especially not tan.

Also, on the night in question I was sitting at home with my wife ordering Christmas presents and watching tv. I have an alibi.

Also, I don't know where Greenridge Drive is located.

It was my license plate number that was written on the ticket. I guess they cross referenced it with my address in order to mail it to me. So my mind started to race - did someone steal my custom PA plate so that they could park in a no parking zone?

I went out to the driveway. My license plate was still attached to the Corsica. Either there was another explanation or this parking lawbreaker was good. Very good.

Then I thought there might be another vehicle out there with a license plate so similar to mine that it could be mistaken for my plate. Even by the sharp, conscientious and capable police force in this county. After all, my plate is three letters, and all non-vanity plates in PA start with three letters (followed by four numbers).

But at that point I stopped caring about solving the crime and started thinking about clearing myself of these charges. I would just call them up and let them know it wasn't me. I mean, look at the evidence. Then I had a better idea.

I asked my wife to call.

She would be able to explain all of the facts of the case without making fun of anyone involved or saying something sarcastic. I, on the other hand, would risk a mandatory court appearance out of spite from whoever answered the phone.

It worked. The officer said that there was obviously a mistake and that she would take care of it. But now I'm afraid that I need to change my license plate so that this doesn't happen again.

How about: SINKRBM. It would be hard to get that one confused. Or maybe: TOYOTA. Could you imagine that conversation? Yes, sir, the officer must have written it down in the wrong spot. We have a Corsica...

Posts Update V

Purple Tape
Ms. Coon was found guilty of six of the seven charges filed against her. She is in the Allegheny County Jail awaiting sentencing, which will happen next Thursday. I just hope they don't let her work in the kitchen during her stay. Even inmates don't deserve tainted pastries.

Again With The Chocolate Lasagna?
Of all 56 posts on the sinkerbeam blog, this one has received by far the most public attention. People from all across the nation are upset about the elimination of Chocolate Lasagna from the Olive Garden menu. And rightfully so. If you want to see something interesting, try typing "Olive Garden chocolate lasagna" into a Google search and check out the top ten. Scary, isn't it? The sinkerbeam blog has a global presence.

Crazy Running Lady
I see crazy running lady all over the place now. In fact, she has her own myspace page, and her screen name is - crazy running lady. See? I was right all along. Of course, I'm pretty sure it's a spoof page, but you can go there and see pictures of her running. In slacks.

Two Poles And A Mound Of Dirt
It has been two months and no one has done anything to the additions in the corner of my yard. The two poles are still in exactly the same spot. The mound of dirt is eroding into the street with every rainfall. Maybe they're just waiting for it to get freezing cold outside before they start any work.

Fall Back
Starting in 2007, the Daylight Saving Time rules change. DST will begin on the second Sunday in March and end on the first Sunday in November. That's a good three weeks longer than in the past. Now that we will save time for 2/3 of the year, shouldn't we call that period Standard Time? The rest of the year can be Daylight Wasting Time or something.

Deer Crossing
Within a week of my tunnel incident, a deer broke into a bank in the area and broke a bunch of stuff. It left right as animal control was getting there. I'm telling you, there's a gang of daredevil deer running around the city. Maybe that's why some of the graffiti is so illegible.

Deer Crossing

As I pulled out of the parking lot at work, I really thought that the conditions were perfect for a chance to break the record. It was 3:30 in the morning. A majority of the traffic lights on my way home would be blinking, and there would be very few cars on the road. The weather was cool with no precipitation.

The world record for making it from my office to my house has stood at 15 minutes for more than six months. But maybe, just maybe, this trip would drop my journey into the elusive sub-quarter-hour time.

Things started out great, as the first three lights on Liberty Avenue showed a constant green. At the left turn to Crosstown Boulevard I had to hesitate for just a second as a Police car passed me in the opposite direction. Then, at the entrance to the Liberty Tunnels, I hit my first red light. Luckily it was near the end of the cycle for the intersection, so I wasn't going to lose too much time.

The light switched to green and I entered the tunnel. I noticed that the cars in both lanes in front of me had their brake lights on, and as I got closer I could tell that they were almost at a complete stop about an eighth of the way through. Who stops their vehicle in a tunnel at 3:30 am? Did they have simultaneous car trouble? Or were they just trying to sabotage my record attempt?

As it turns out, they were slowing down for a deer. A gangly, semi-coordinated teenage white-tail. Apparently it was looking for a quicker way to the South Hills than a hike over Mount Washington.

So there we went for the next ten minutes or so. Six miles per hour. Traffic stacking up behind us. Watching the hind-quarters of this animal as it clumsily made its way down the center line of the Liberty Tunnel.

It was easy to see that animal hooves are not engineered for concrete. Sometimes this deer would stop and turn around, like it had realized the error of its decision, and I'd have to ease the Corsica over towards the middle a bit. I would shine my headlight right between the cars in front of me as if to say, "keep going you goofy animal. You've already ruined my attempt at a world record and there's no reason for you to run into some car behind me, too."

Meanwhile, some people were honking their horns. Very helpful. Thanks for that.

Anyway, after what felt like forever we finally made it to the end. If you are wondering what a deer does after a lengthy trot through the Liberty Tubes, it takes the first exit ramp and heads toward the West End. He probably won the dare and was going to have to wait for his deer peers who chose to go overland. But to the victor goes the salt lick.

Needless to say, I did not break the record. Even if the conditions are perfect, there are many factors that are out of my control as I attempt to make it home in less than 15 minutes. Red lights. Other drivers. Some crazy deer.

But what can I say? He probably broke his own world record time for getting to the other side of Mount Washington.

At least one of us did.