Invitational: Could This Be the End?

Saturday was the East Kentwood Invitational Marching Band event.

It was, in a word, exhausting.

Twenty-three bands from around the state converged on our little school to play their hearts out, put their best foot forward, and totally wow the judges with their amazing prowess. In the rain. And wind. From 3 pm all the way until 10 pm.

As for yours truly and my merry little band (!) of pit crew folks, we arrived before noon to get everything set up, then stood out on the track and marketed our wares to any and all bands who passed our way: "Anyone need a big podium? Anyone need a generator? Anyone need an umbrella?"

Several bands borrowed our podiums. A few needed to use our generator to power their portable electronics (basses, keyboards, amps). And one of the bands borrowed our tractor and cart. But we didn't really have umbrellas. And they wouldn't have borrowed them if we did, because Marching Band kids are tough; they just laugh at rain! (Or was it crying? I couldn't tell ... it was raining too hard.)

We had a few challenges. The rain caused ponds to appear on the field, which we had to drain, or at least sweep off into the drains along the outer edge of the field. We couldn't use the built-in field power plugs, because they were mostly underwater. And our generator was being stubborn about staying on.

But we survived all the way up til the final performance at 9:30, which was our very own EK Marching Band. The generator picked that very moment to die a horrible death (or at least choose not to live anymore), so one of the directors had to grab the extension cord from the front line and plug it into the field power box, which by this time was dry and functional.

After all, the show must go on!

===

Now the big question remains: How many more shows will there be? It all depends on the football team. If they win their next game on Friday, we'll have another home game and the Marching Band will need to perform again. And we'll have to pull out all our podiums and ladders and generators and tractors and carts.

But if they don't win, we're done for the season and we can put away all these fine, wonderful toys and focus on winterizing our homes before the snow starts falling.

Naturally, I don't want to wish ill of the team ... but I also am tired and ready to hunker down in front of my warm fireplace and read a good book.

Oh, what a dilemma!

Senior Night; or, Getting Near the End

Tonight is possibly the last home game where the Marching Band has to perform. If the football team continues to play as they did tonight, it's practically a shoe-in that we are done.

I brought James along to help out with the pit crew, showed him how to drive the tractor and let him have some fun. Cheryl packed us some dinner to take along - home-made chicken noodle soup and muffins. We ate while watching the band rehearse. James had fun seeing all his old friends, like old-home week. Then it was time for me to run back over to the stadium to participate in the "Senior Night" festivities, which involve walking across the track with Cheryl and Deb in front of the entire crowd, and getting our pictures taken. Whee!!

Right after that, of course, it was time for we in the pit crew to assist with the pre-game show, handling the podiums and making sure everything ran smoothly. After that, it was time for the game to start.

This is my summary of the game from the point of view of someone who hasn't watched football since the Cowboys were killing it back in the 70's:

The offense took off in the first quarter and got the first score relatively quickly, but then ran out of steam. The defense was sleeping during the first half and didn't wake up until it was apparent that the other team's offense was wide-awake. At least they held them back from more scoring; the final score was 8-18 so it didn't look too bad. But it sure looked bad from the sidelines. The pass game was just not working. They should've stuck with the ground plays.

As for the half-time show, which was the justification for my existence that night, we had a few issues. One of the podiums was put on the wrong yard line (but that got corrected). And the generator was very difficult to start, which was not usual. It hasn't ever given us any trouble, except for when we forgot to fuel it up. But they finally managed to get it started and the show went OK.

Deb's big brother James sat with her in the stands and they had a great time hanging with the band. James got to see a lot of his old friends, and Deb got to be with her brother. Cheryl hung out with her folks somewhere up in the stands -- I never did spot 'em -- and I stayed down on the field with my crew waiting for the next disaster to occur.

After the game was all over and everything was cleaned up and the last kid was taken home, I went home to hang out with the family for a little while before hitting the sack. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.

I Hate (Car) Mysteries

Deb came home from school today sputtering about her car, something about overheating, steaming, spraying, hissing. My first reaction was anger: How is that possible? I replaced the radiator! There's absolutely no excuse for it to be leaking.

So, after a while -- I was in the middle of something else when she got home --  I went out to the car and looked underneath. There was a couple green drops of coolant clinging to the bottom of the drive axle. And there was some kind of fluid underneath the car, soaked into the concrete, but it wasn't green.  So I popped the hood, checked the coolant level ... and it was fine.

Huh?

It wasn't even hot. Over-hot, I mean. the kind of over-hot that burns fingers or shoots steam. And not a trace of coolant anywhere in the front or top of the engine compartment. Including near the heater core hoses.

But those drops down below ... make me nervous.

According to theory, if there is coolant underneath the engine but not above or in front, that is an indication that coolant may be getting into the engine via a bad head gasket and being overpressurized which results in spewing out the heads. And if the coolant is being spewed onto the hot exhaust system (which might be the case), that would explain the steaming and hissing.

If indeed the gasket is bad, the car will overheat on a ten-mile trip. And then it will overheat on a five-mile trip. And then on a two-mile trip. That's what happened to my primary car, Serenity (which is still waiting to be put back together).

We don't need any more car troubles at the moment. There's plenty of other things to stress out about.

I topped off the fluids and took the car for a spin over to the auto parts store, got another couple of gallons of coolant, watching the temperature dial like a hawk. Didn't even get up to the half-way point the whole time. But I still don't trust it.

I'm going to be checking it every day til I figure out what's going on.

Because while I like mystery stories, I don't like 'em when they happen to my car.

Reinforcements!

The Seattle grandparents arrived yesterday around dinnertime, so the house is now officially "full". Since James is roughing it in the basement, they're taking Deb's room and the girls are roomies again (just like old times).

We've had fun catching up with the Greens about all their adventures on their current cross-country road trip, and all the things that have been going on back in Washington these past few months. Kind of makes me want to take my own road trip somewhere, but there's too many things that need to be done around here.

Like the basement.

I noticed an interesting (but annoying) little thing this past weekend while preparing to work on the back bedroom. The guy who came over to complete the HVAC and plumbing (shower install) apparently "borrowed" one of the 2x3 studs from the bedroom wall in order to build the shower enclosure support wall. I was looking at the back wall in the bedroom and something about it just didn't look right. It took me a second to realize that the stud was missing. Typically the studs are located every 16 inches, all across the wall, but on this one wall section, there was a gap.

When I took a good look at it, I noticed that the guy used a reciprocating saw to cut along the bottom of the stud (between the stud and the base plate), neatly slicing the screws that held it to the base plate, then apparently pulled the stud out from the bottom, leaving the two top screws dangling in the air.

Of all the stupid ... !

Naturally, I took photos so I could send them to the plumbing company to ask them about their hiring standards.  And to ask them what they're going to do about it. And to tell them that I will never hire their services again.

Especially after they were already responsible for this fiasco.

And people wonder why I want to do things myself. Can't trust anyone these days. Can't find a good mechanic, can't find a trustworthy plumber.

===

On the subject of reading and writing, we attended Susie Finkbeiner's book-signing last night. She's the lady who led our Writer's Group these last few years (but hasn't had time for it in quite a while). She just published her 3rd book, "A Cup of Dust", which is a story set in the Dust Bowl days of Oklahoma. We took the Greens along to the signing, and they won a copy of the book for having come the longest distance!

(Yes, book-signings these days always have giveaways ...)

Susie read a chapter from her book, and then people got in line to have their copies of the book signed. I had been hoping to chat with her awhile, being as it's been a million years (give or take) since we've had a chance to exchange pleasantries, but I realized after standing around like an idiot for ten minutes or so that she wasn't really there to be sociable, she was there as part of the book tour, which is kind of like being at work; and since all the other people, including a few who were also in my Writer's Group, were busy chatting with each other (the group was 99.99% women), it occurred to me that my presence there was completely superfluous, so I took refuge in a place that always brings me comfort and joy: the hardware store.

After all, I needed to buy some replacement 2x3 studs.

What? You think I should make those idiots at the plumbing company come over and fix their stupid mistake? Not on your life! I wouldn't have them within a mile of my basement, if I could help it ... but I wouldn't mind getting a bit of a refund on a job not well done!

Meanwhile, I've installed some nifty little stairwell lights so people heading downstairs can see where their feet are going...

==

The Greens brought me a little present: a book, Blind Descent, an inspirational tale of one man's attempt to scale Mt. Everest. I just started reading it, but it is very well done, interspersing the author's background and theological viewpoint with details of his quest to conquer the mountain. Apparently this guy, Brian Dickenson, lives in Snoqualmie amidst the mountains of Washington state (near where we used to live) and came to the Green's church to speak one Sunday, so they got the book autographed -- just for me!

So I have two books to read now, and very little time to do it in. Plus a basement to finish. Plus a Marching Band performance on Friday. Plus a Marching Band Invitational on Saturday. Plus I'm teaching two classes on Sunday.

Time for more caffeine!

James Comes Home

It's been a long, crazy day.

We started it early, leaving the house around six thirty in the a.m., dashing down to South Bend to visit our good friend, Sue, at the local Bob Evans restaurant, and gabbing away the hours until it was time to hike over to O'Hare to pick up James.

We were only a little bit late owing to our propensity for gab (3 hours!) but that was OK since James had to go through Customs anyway and that always takes awhile.

And, I must add, the Chicago construction/traffic didn't help matters.

We picked him up and then drove back home, whereupon his sister, Deb, grabbed him around the neck and refused to let go. Really. We had to use a prybar to get her off.

Meanwhile, James's friend, Nathan, had appeared with a box of Hungry Howie's and a six-pack of Mexican Coca-Cola (with cane sugar) to celebrate, so the two friends sat down and scarfed the entire pizza (by themselves!) and caught up on the latest news. Then, once Mary arrived home (she was late due to being held up at play practice), the boys went over to Nathan's house while the rest of us relaxed before dinner.

The girls decided they weren't too burned out on driving to prohibit them from going out to Papa Murphy's to grab a pizza, so Cheryl and I took our ease for a while longer -- she on her computer, me on my bed -- while they hit the road.

After dinner, James and Nathan returned and we had another little celebration with their friend, Paige; then Adam came home from work and we had even more celebration (with popcorn); and then it got late and everyone went home and the rest of us settled down to watch the news. Or fall asleep on the couch. Whichever came first.

Radiator Restored

Trying to figure out what is wrong with the cooling system on a car can be very difficult. There are a million different places on the cooling system which might spring a leak: hoses, seals, gaskets, couplings, and, of course, the radiator. One typically dries the exterior of the system (as best one can) and turns on the car to observe What Happens Next. And then one is able to pinpoint the source of the leak when it starts dripping or spraying or exploding all over the place.

Ruby was being a puzzle before, dripping on the driver side but not showing any obvious cracks or holes or anything to give a hint of the source. But after Deb drove it home on Thursday, something changed drastically. Now the whole lower finned section of the passenger side of the radiator was dripping fluid.

My theory is that the overpressure from the steam finally blew out a weak spot and made the crack or hole bigger than it had been. I'd checked the radiator before, completely pulling it from the car and testing it by filling it with water to see if anything leaked. And nothing did. But that was not under any kind of real pressure. Now that it had been under high pressure and high temperature, it was leaking like a sieve. So, naturally, I bought a new radiator.

And hoped that it was the only source of the leaks.

Replacing radiators is a snap on the Subaru. Especially when there's nothing to drain, since the fluid had all (or mostly) boiled away. I kept pans under it anyway, of course; no sense being careless. So I removed the fans, loosened the hose clamps, pulled the hoses (both water and transmission fluid), then pulled the radiator straight out. Popped the new one in and reversed the removal process, and had it all back together in about half an hour, including the fluid fill.

Crossed my fingers and turned it on. Ran it for ten minutes or so, til the gauge showed full temperature for the water. Watched. Waited. It never rose above the half-way point.

Success!

Next step was taking the car to the muffler shop for an exhaust repair. If you remember, this is the car that lost three feet of pipe one day (for an as-yet undetermined reason) and I'd patched another pipe onto it with limited success. She'd been spitting loud and we were ready to quiet her down.

So we dropped her off at the shop and let the guy do his work. Got a call less than an hour later from the shop owner.

"How long do you want to keep the car?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I can patch it for $200, and she'll keep going for awhile, but that's just a band-aid."

"What'll it cost to replace it all?" I asked.

"$400."

"Done."

A couple hours later, we drove back to the shop and picked up the car, and it had a brand-new exhaust system: muffler, resonator, catalytic converter, the works. And it as quiet, so very quiet.

New radiator, new exhaust system. A costly repair, but it will be worth it to make sure Deb is able to get through the winter safely.

Now if I could just get my car fixed as easy.

===

It'll be a while before my car gets fixed, though. Priorities. Basement first. The rest of the day, after getting the car fixed, was spent moving insulation and drywall out of the basement and into the garage. Because it's just getting in my way, and there's still work to be done before the electrical and framing inspections can be completed. Can't have all the construction materials sitting out in the middle of the floor for me to trip over. So I lose a bay in the garage. Just in time for the cold weather, when I really want my car to be nice and warm in the garage.

Guess that's the price I pay for taking so long to get the basement done.

And Now for Something Completely Autumnal

The cold weather has settled in Michigan, just in time for a classic fall football game, complete with blankets to cover the aluminum benches, hot cups of cocoa at the concession stands, and hand-warmers grasped tightly between the fingers.

I brought hand-warmers for the kids in the Marching Band, but wasn't allowed to hand them out because there weren't enough for everyone. This is based on the assumption that everyone would want them, which isn't usually the case; some kids are actually intelligent enough to bring warm gloves to put on their hands while they're sitting in the stands watching the game. But in this age of Political Correctness, either everyone gets something or no one gets anything.

The pre-game show went well, other than the confusion that arose from the presence of a bunch of middle- and elementary-school football players (children) who were there for some special football-legacy thing. The band directors didn't look as though they quite knew what was going on, but they carried on. It was obvious that there was a bit of a disconnect between the football team and the band, though, because when the band starting playing the National Anthem, the team was running through the "tunnel" of children and yelling and doing high-fives. It was, I thought, rather rude and disrespectful.

During the first quarter of the game, it was apparent that the team wasn't quite ready for cold-weather play because the ball kept slipping through their fingers. Lots of incomplete passes, lots of bounces off frozen fingertips. It was discouraging.

But they rallied late in the second quarter and, by half-time, appeared a bit more warmed-up.

Half-time is our big stress moment, when my pit crew team has to move like lightning and get all the equipment in place (podiums, sound system, carts) so that the band can do a professional show. We goofed a couple of things this time. One of the podiums started out on the wrong yard line -- it was on the 35 instead of the 30 -- but we corrected that right after the first song. And the generator, which provides power for the electronic keyboards and amplifier, ran out of gas during the last song. (I'd tried to convince the front line kids that they should plug into the field power, which I'd gone to the trouble of turning on, but they thought it would be faster to use the generator.)

After the show, the band retired back into the stands to watch the rest of the game and to play inspirational pieces when we got a first down or a touchdown. Since we couldn't give out hand-warmers, they did the best they could with what they had -- or what they could buy at the concessions. Hot chocolate. Hot tea. Hot dogs.

Near the end of the game, the pit crew loaded up the gear and headed back to the trailers to put away the front line instruments while the kids hung out for the last ten minutes of the game. And I forgot to check to make sure they got everything we'd brought out.

They'd remembered everything. Except the box with the tools and the hand-warmers.

I didn't realize this out until I got home from the game and looked in the back of my car and realized that the tools were missing. My tools. The tools I would need to fix Deb's car in the morning. (I had purchased a new radiator for her car earlier in the day.)

So I hot-footed it back to the stadium (which was dark by then) and ran over to the spot where it had been sitting, only to find that it was gone. My heart sank because I had no idea who had picked it up or what had happened to it. Not sure what to do next, I went back to the parking lot. At the gate, two older gentlemen were locking things up. When I mentioned the box, one of them said, "Oh, yes, we saw that and picked it up and put it in the garage." Which was back at the stadium. They graciously offered to go back to the garage and open it so I could retrieve my box of tools. All I had to do, was to follow them in my car. I thanked them and reached into my pocket for my keys.

My pocket was empty.

Panic!

So instead of driving after them, I ran after them, finally catching up with them at the garage where I explained the problem, and they (again) graciously offered to help me find my keys. Remembering that I had run across the field (in the dark) to get to the other side when I first came to look for the box, I pulled out my flashlight and starting walking across the field, scanning the patch of light in front of me, while they pulled their truck onto the field and lit it up with their headlights. And within about twenty seconds, the glint of keys! They were right there, lying on the astroturf at about the 20 yard line.

All's well that ends well. I got my box of tools, met some very nice, helpful guys, and got home safely with my box of tools, ready for tomorrow's adventure with the new radiator.

But I was completely exhausted, too.

Radiator Blowout

Ruby - the red Subaru - has been having difficulties lately. Leaking radiator fluid, slowly but surely, running low on coolant after a few days.  Deb noticed it was steaming by the time she got to the school the other night for band practice, so since it was dark outside, we just poured more coolant in and called it good.

Today I came home for lunch to meet her as she was getting ready to head off to her college class and took a look at the situation. Ran the engine for awhile but didn't see anything ... until just before she had to go. Bit of a leak on the passenger side. Suddenly. Where'd that come from?

Met her at the bus stop when she got back from school and followed her home. Sure enough, it was steaming by the time she got home. Most all the fluid had leaked out. Filled it up with water and didn't even have to start it up before it was leaking into the tub I'd put under the engine. Pretty steady now. Not sure what happened, but suspect the radiator was weakened before and running it close to empty caused extra pressure from the steam and blew out the weak spot.

Time for a new radiator. Nice thing about the NAPA near work is I can go on the web and reserve the part (which they have) and then pick it up at lunchtime.

Unfortunately, I won't have time to actually install it tomorrow, as we have a game and I'll be running straight from work to the school to get the equipment set up.

MSBOA 2015

The Michigan School Band and Orchestra Association (MSBOA) Festival is one of those events we all look forward to. It's one of two major performances during the year where the Marching Band gets professional feedback so they know how well they're doing.

It's a big deal for the Marching Band directors.

This year, our school was hosting, so all of us who normally volunteer for Marching Band were there, handling the parking lots, preparing food at the concessions, guiding the guest bands to their warm-up spots, and helping out on the stadium with equipment.

As pit crew chief, my responsibility was to make sure that all the equipment was ready for any band's use (podiums, ladders, generators, extension cords, carts, tractors, tools, etc.). Including, of course, ours.

[Deb also made sure there were hand-warmers and foot-warmers available since the nights are getting colder.]

So after a full day at work, I headed over to the school around 4 pm to get the pit crew stuff going. Pulling out carts, setting up podiums, checking for power on the field, delivering a tractor and cart to the pit area that the visiting bands would be using. Running around like a chicken with no head, mostly.

The show started promptly at 6:30 with the National Anthem, and then the bands started coming in, one at a time, to do their shows in front of the judges, and then roll off the field and into the stands so they could watch the other bands. We weren't scheduled to perform til 9 pm, so we got to see a lot of bands, starting with Class D (schools with less than 360 students), then Class C (less than 600 students), Class B (less than 1000 students), Class A (less than 1200 students), and finally, Class AA (1600 students or more).

Our school is Class AA. Actually, the only school in that class for this competition.

There were some awesome performances ... and some not quite so awesome. But there was one performance that stood out, not so much due to the quality of the performance (which was very good), but because of the circumstances they overcame to even show up.

As I mentioned, we were supposed to perform at 9 pm, but the band right before us had a bit of an accident with their equipment trailer. From what we were told, the trailer hitch separated from the tractor while it was going 60 mph down the freeway, then dropped and dug into the road, which spun the trailer around and smashed it into the guardrail. Most of the front-line percussion instruments inside were destroyed -- about $50,000 worth.

Luckily, no one was hurt! But it put a big dent in their performance plans.

So when the band showed up -- late -- they were short a few instruments. Graciously, our percussion director volunteered ours for them to use, so the show went on.

And they actually performed very well, even given the fact that some of them were dealing with the shock of knowing that the accident had occurred.

As it turned out, our school performed on-time, so the only effect from the audience's point of view was that the show went on for an extra fifteen minutes.  No big deal.

As always, my pit crew had to put everything away and then wait for all the students to get picked up before we could leave, but there were only a couple late-comers tonight, so I was able to head home by 10:30.

Man, I was tired. Wanted to sleep in this morning, but that wasn't going to happen because I had to be in the lab at 7 to install some new equipment.

Fought sleep all day long. Finally got home a little after 5 and went straight to bed. Til 7.

Can't wait for all this band stuff to be done.

Film Star and Weary Worker

Spending the day waiting "on set" for my appearance in an upcoming film was not quite the way my day was supposed to be spent. But that's the way it turned out.

My current work involves developing a technology demonstrator which incorporates the latest sensor technology advancements into a simulated cockpit (or "flight deck" as we call it in the industry), testing them to figure out which ones are going to work and which ones are completely ridiculous, and making recommendations to the systems engineering teams so they can develop projects based on those technologies.

I'm not the one actually doing the development of these technologies; I'm the guy who takes all the hardware and software and integrates it into the flight deck structure and then hides all the cables so the people who come in to "play" don't lose the illusion that they're actually flying an aircraft.

Kind of like The Wizard of Oz.

So we've done quite a few demonstrations lately and received lots of good reviews from the higher-ups, and they decided we need to make a marketing video which can be sent around to the other sites so they can spread the word to our customers (and vendors) that we are pursuing cool new technologies and maybe if we got just a little bit more money, we could do even more. 

So today was spent making this video. And I got to be the hand model! Pushing buttons, touching screens, doing all the things a pilot would do. It was so awesome ... and so long. A complete eight hour day to make a little three minute video.

And we didn't actually finish today. They'll be back tomorrow to film additional footage.

As it was, the filming kept me at work much later than I had planned; tonight was the last Marching Band rehearsal before our band competition tomorrow.  As pit crew chief, I'm supposed to be at the school by 5:30 to start setting up. As it was, I got out of work by 5 (after getting to work around 7) and stopped by the house to change clothes and grab some dinner, then headed over to the school and got there about fifteen minutes late.

Naturally, the day before a competition, we were practicing on the field instead of in the parking lot (we in the pit crew don't have to work as hard when it's just a parking lot practice), so it was time to hit the ground running (literally) and get all the carts unloaded and set up the podiums before 6:30 when the practice officially starts.

The team was a bit short-handed tonight; one of them got his flu shot, which essentially gave him all the flu symptoms, so he stayed home, and another one is on travel in Europe, and a couple of 'em work evenings and are only available for Friday games, and one runs his own business so he's always busy (and tired). Which left myself and two others. I got the podiums and they got the carts.

The good part was that practice was shortened because the kids are doing so well; the bad news was that some parents didn't get the message that their kids would be finished early. And I always stay at the school until all of the kids have been picked up. Because I'm paranoid. Practice ended at 8. The last kid got picked up at 9. Which meant that I sat in my car for an hour after practice was over until the parking lot was completely empty.

It wasn't too bad. I listened to the classical music station and relaxed. Complaining about parents to myself. And watching the hilarious antics of the four boys and one girl who were goofing around while they waited.

Then when it was all done, I started my car -- or, rather, attempted to start my car. It refused. The battery was dead.

Harrumph.

Luckily, I had brought along my spare battery -- which is normally used to operate the winch on the front of the cart trailer -- so I just swapped batteries and was on my way in less than five minutes.

Still. It was annoying. Being tired doesn't help.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Just the Beginning of Exhaustion

Pardon us while we take a break from getting our house into shape to attend a Marching Band Invitational.

I've been anxious about it for the last few days because of several things that happened. First, we had to find a new semi-truck driver because the Company (which shall remain nameless) who normally provides a driver, said they would not pay their driver overtime (actually double-time) to work after 6 pm on a Saturday. We even said that we'd be willing to pay him ourselves, but that's against company rules so they wouldn't go for it.

The Band Directors put out a plea to the community for someone to step up and volunteer, and we found someone who was not only willing to drive, but able to convince his boss to let him borrow one of the company trucks!

It was great how that turned out, but it took a day or two of anxious nail-biting before everything was resolved, and my blood pressure wasn't doing well.

Meanwhile, I waited too long to get together with the guy who was driving the van which was pulling our little trailer, and only on Friday night -- last night -- the night before our performance! -- found out that the hitch on his van was rusted tight and we wouldn't be able to mount the trailer hitch in place of his original hitch (the two hitches are quite different). We were at the school, banging on the hitch with hammers and spraying it with WD-40, all to no avail. So I had to send him back home to try applying some heat (via propane torch) to try and loosen it up; meanwhile, I asked him to call me early in the morning to let me know whether it had worked or not, because if it didn't, I needed to reserve a 1-ton truck (with hitch) as soon as possible.

Luckily, applying heat (and some other techniques) worked by the next morning, so we were able to use his van. And not have to rent a truck!

So by Saturday afternoon, my blood pressure was spiking and the anxiety was palpable and my brain was a flurry of mixed-up checklists and last-minute panic moments, and the only way I could find to relax for a few minutes was to -- you guessed it! -- re-hang the basement door frame. Somehow doing carpentry work relaxes me. I'm not sure why. Blame my dad. But the door frame got re-aligned, the door was re-hung, and other than the trim, it works fine.

All the paraphernalia required for the pit crew was loaded into my car, the car was driven to the school, the trailers were opened, the band did their last-minute practice, the tires on the carts were pumped up, the tires on the trailers were pumped up, the hitches were mounted to the semi and to the van, the band kids filed into the buses, and we all drove over to the school across town which was hosting the Invitational.

We arrived and un-packed, loading the instruments on the carts, got the kids warmed-up, marched out onto the field at 9:15 p.m. sharp, and performed our show. Then an hour later, after a couple more bands played, we sat and listened to the results: 1st place in our division! Yay!

Then we packed up and headed back to our own school and unloaded the kids (but not the carts or instruments) and waited a while for the parents to pick up their children and then headed home and collapsed into bed and awaited sleep. Which took about ten seconds.

And after Sunday School and worship this morning, we came back home and crawled into bed and finished our nap which was so rudely interrupted by the silly alarm-cat.

Now we've re-awoken and had our lunch and are ready to relax for a few minutes before heading out to our Life Group for some more Bible study.

Only two more weeks of Marching Band. Unless the football team does really well. In which case it might be another month!

56 Years and Counting!

Today is October 9th, and that means that my mother and father have been married for 56 years. I would like to take this opportunity to wish them a very happy anniversary, and lots more to come!

I still can't figure out how they've been married so long, yet their children are all still so young. We can't be a day over 21, any of us. Or maybe that's just our mindset.

They continue to be a model for their children -- and grandchildren! -- of what a God-fearing, loving relationship is all about. Their devotion to each other, their ability to put up with anything that comes along, their loyalty to friends and family, their willingness to sacrifice time and treasure for the Kingdom, and the sheer joy they bring to life, is an inspiration.

How I look forward to seeing them again!

Door

We decided to tear the doorframe apart because that seemed the least destructive of all the options. And because I've torn doorframes apart (and put them back together) before, whereas I am a complete neophyte when it comes to tearing basement egress windows apart. 

Not wanting to create too much damage to the trim, I took my time, carefully prying the trim from the frame and then easing the frame from the wall. 

Worked like a charm. The opening in the wall was now exactly wide enough to allow the corner cabinet base to go through. And I do mean exactly. With about 1/4-inch to spare. 

[We did have to remove the stair rail because it was kind of in the way, but that didn't take much so it really isn't worth mentioning. So I won't.]

So with me on the stairs and Cheryl and Deb above, holding onto the cabinet, we eased it down the stairway to the basement, and then on into the room where all the other cabinet pieces were sitting.

Now the only little task left is to clean up the door frame -- remove all the nails and things -- and then re-hang it. That'll be a job for tomorrow. I think.

Door or Window?

We ordered cabinets for the basement kitchenette and they arrived a few days ago -- 13 boxes worth of them! -- and it took us quite a while to get them all downstairs.

All but one.

The main cabinet is too big for the basement door. It measures 34-1/2 inches at its narrowest point; the door measures 32 at its widest.

Stupid basement door.

We tried to figure out a way to load it through one of the basement windows, but only one sash of the slider actually is removable. And I don't feel like tearing the window out of the side of the house just to get the cabinet through.

So ... maybe we'll take the basement door apart. Without the jambs and trim, it might just be wide enough!

:: We did think about taking the cabinet apart, but it was put together with nail guns, staples and glue, and the only way to take it apart is with a sledgehammer.

Oh, well, at least there's a ton of cardboard in the garage to play with!

::----::

After getting nowhere with the cabinet tonight, I sat down and watched "50 First Dates" with Cheryl and Deb.  Which would've been a fantastic little movie if not for the totally unnecessary "naughty bits" (what we in the business call "Sandlerisms") that tried to drag the intellectual level down to the gutter every ten minutes or so. Other than that, a great and ultimately tragically happy movie.

I'd love to see it with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. 

Mind Wipe

Wednesday was a total wash insofar as accomplishments at home go. Had all sorts of things planned, of course, but I was so hang-dog tired by the end of my workday, there waren't no energy left to speak of, and nothin' happened other than me and a bed cuddling up for a nap.

Slept til bedtime, then got up fer a spell to see what was going on -- mostly darkness, as it was near midnight -- and then crawled back under the covers and listened to Cheryl breathing while my brain tried to reconcile the fact that an entire evening had gone by with nothing to show for it.

Other than a nice dinner. Maybe that was my problem. Ate myself into oblivion. Me and food got a real close relationship, and it makes me all peaceful and soft-headed when there's a tummy-full of good vittles settin' inside.

And the Beat(ing) Goes On

If it wasn't for the constant sinus headache, these last few days would've been merely miserable. With the addition of the pain, they're as close to unendurable as my feeble brain can imagine.

Let's take Monday as an example.

The headache from Sunday was still in full force, kind of like a knife sticking into the middle of my brain, so there was no point in staying in bed after feeding the cat at 5:30 a.m. Might as well eat some breakfast. But first, gotta take the probiotic stuff (aka antacid) and then wait half an hour before eating because otherwise Bad Things Happen (not sure what, but the instructions say so).

Can't take analgesics with probiotics. They have opposing methodologies. One soothes the stomach, the other rips holes in it -- because everyone knows a bleeding stomach is the first step on the pathway to being pain-free! (Also liver damage and heart damage, but who's counting?)  So my plan is to wait until about an hour after I get to work, after everything is going gangbusters in the digestive department, and then dose up with the analgesics to lower the inclination for my head to explode.

Only ... I forgot to stock up on the migraine meds in my little portable med kit. And they don't have meds at work (because lawsuits). So unless I'm willing to run out to the store and purchase some additional meds, I'm outta luck.

There's simply too much going on at work for me to take a break, so I decide to tough it out. Like an idiot. Which means I'm extremely busy and extremely in pain, all at the same time.

Then during lunch I decide to email the guy who is supposed to provide a semi-truck and driver for our upcoming Marching Band Invitational, to let him know what time we'll need the driver to come pull the trailer. Didn't think it was a big deal. Our band is going to perform at 9:15 pm, so we'll leave the school parking lot around 7 and get to the performance site in plenty of time.

The reply to my message is curt and too the point: the driver cannot work after 6 pm because then they'd have to pay him overtime, and they can't do that.

Flabbergasted. That's me. Just simply flabbergasted. Huh?? After all this time (years) providing us with a semi and a driver to drive it, they balk because they'll have to pay a little overtime? For a tax-deductable, community-supportive event??

As the guy in charge of Transportation for the Marching Band, now I'm in a panic. Less than a week away, and I don't have a driver or a truck to haul our trailer!  Crisis time!

A quick email to the Band directors results in a school-wide plea for anyone who knows of anyone who might be able to drive. And provide a truck. (Although we can probably rent one.)  My anxiety level rises ...

Meanwhile, at work, we're hosting a group of tours through our aircraft systems demonstrator. One of the participants, while playing with our simulator, manages to break a major component -- one of those components that is irreplaceable due to being obsoleted. And we have more demos coming this week! More panic time! And my anxiety level increases even more ...

At the business end of a very long day, my headache has not abated, but it is time to head over to the school for Marching Band practice. No time for dinner; I have to be there early because we are going to be on the field tonight. And when I get to the school, none of my pit crew are there. Exasperated, I start taking equipment out of the trailer and down to the field. Some of my crew show up about the time I get back to the trailer for another load. Finally! Now we can kick this thing into high gear. Only, they don't. Instead, they complain that I'm rushing. I look at my watch: we were supposed to be on the field by 6:15 and it's now 6:30! How can this be rushing??

Finally get all the instruments down to the field. I had asked the other guys to check the tire pressure on our carts once they got down to the field, but they didn't. Not sure why. So I grab one of 'em and together we start to check the tires. Three are near-flat, and one of those has the stem all twisted around so bad that the pump won't work with it. So we have to pull that wheel off the cart (while the Percussion is playing their instrument) and fix it. Then pump up the other ones.

After practice, my crew takes the instruments back to the trailer while I put away the podiums and lock all the gates in the stadium. In the dark. Because the directors have shut off the lights -- to save money? -- while I was still out there. My blood pressure is climbing...

Back at the school building, I had hoped that most of the carts would already be put away and we would be ready to go home. But most of the carts were still sitting in the parking lot, waiting to be loaded into the little trailer. So it's another half an hour before I'm able to finally call it a night and head home. Exhausted. Head still hurting. Ready for bed.

But there is another crisis: Adam's car is acting up again. He hit a pothole or two on the way back from school and now the wheel is making a "grinding" noise.

I'm too tired to deal with it. He doesn't have to be at school til 5 pm tomorrow. I'll get up early and take care of it. My head is screaming for bed.

==

It's so hard to get out of bed in the morning, so I don't. At least, not til eight. Then after a quick bit of breakfast toast, it's out to the garage to find out what is going on with Adam's car.

It doesn't take long. In fact, it's so obvious, it hurts. One of the bolts that holds the brake caliper is missing. Which means that Doofus (me) didn't torque it down correctly, and it shook itself loose while Adam was driving, and the pothole caused it to leap from its screwy prison to freedom.

Lucky for him it was the lower bolt. Had it been the upper bolt, the forward motion of the rotor would've jammed the caliper and pad assembly and brought the car to a shuddering and rather sudden stop. As it was, it free-floated on the rotor and, although grinding metal and sounding horrible, it didn't do any permanent damage.

I had extra bolts, so I put one in place and torqued it down. And double-checked all the rest of the bolts for good measure. Then took his car to work for a test drive. And it worked fine.

But my head still hurt. All day long. Even now.

Cheryl says ragweed is extra-high right now. So not even my allergy shots are enough to thwart the Evil Allergy!

==

In other news, of the far more interesting type, James will be coming home in late October. We can't wait to see him!

Another Day, Another Distraction

Two days without progress. Can't afford that kind of thing.

Spent all day yesterday working on the basement bathroom. Negative progress, actually. Was going to put the insulation behind the shower enclosure and discovered that the guy who installed the plumbing did a lousy job.

The wood he used for the crosspieces (to hang the shower valve and the shower head on) looked like rejects from the scrap pile. They were both hanging by a single screw. Not good. The wall behind the enclosure wasn't squared up. And because of that, the enclosure pieces didn't meet up square. And he'd screwed them into place crooked.

Took me most of the day to get it all straightened out. Had to remove the wall he'd built, then the wall I'd built, then the overhead lights, then move the vanity out of the way so I could take both walls into the other room where the power tools were waiting; then cut & measure, cut & measure, replace bad wood with good wood, move 'em back into the bathroom, fit check, measure, fit check again, re-measure, attach & re-measure again.

Almost done. Just need a few finishing touches on the shower wall and then move everything back into place and re-hang the overhead lights.

But it's time to stop for the night. Got a Sunday School lesson what needs attention. Guess I'll get back to work on the basement tomorrow.

So ... got up on Sunday morning and rode with Mary to the church. Noticed that the red car was sounding a bit ... loud. Like a hole in the exhaust. A really big hole. Asked Mary about it. She said it had been that way for a few days.

After church, rode home with the girls and it was still very loud. Thought I'd better take a look at it when we got home, so put it into the garage up on the ramps. Took a peek.

Oh, my! Three feet of exhaust pipe completely missing. From the end of the resonator all the way to the muffler flange. Gone!

And Deb needs it to drive to a babysitting job tonight.

Priorities, priorities. Scrapped the idea of working on the basement. After our family meeting, I headed back out to the garage and crawled underneath the car and pulled the exhaust system (south of the catalytic converters) off -- in two pieces -- then grabbed the "spare" exhaust system from my Hanger Queen and worked it into place. Took a couple hours, just in time for Deb to take it to her babysitting job.

The rest of the evening was spent moving the stacks of flooring out of the garage and into the mechanical room, and my computer junk out of the basement and into my bedroom, to make room for the kitchenette cabinets.

That'll be a job for tomorrow. For now, I'm exhausted. Again.

Mysterium Profunda

(Adam, feel free to correct the Latin!)

I spent hours trying to figure out what was wrong with the red Subaru. Pulled the radiator, flushed it, checked for leaks, re-installed it, then pulled the hoses and checked them for leaks.

Nothing.

So I filled it again with water and started it up, let it run for nearly twenty minutes, laying underneath it and watching very carefully for anything that might even hint of leaks.

Again, nothing.

So I took it for a test spin up to the school, varying my speed, turning the heat on and off, cycling through gears (since the transmission oil runs through the radiator, too), trying to get it to do something. Then got under the car again to check for leaks.

Nothing.

I don't like not knowing what's going on. Because that means the problem is going to reappear again intermittently, and then only at the worst time possible.

Looks like it's time to accelerate the manual shifting lessons for the girls so they can take my car (which is slightly more reliable) while I take the 'mystery' car for awhile. Until it leaks again.

Because I don't have time right now to fuss with cars. There's a basement to finish! And we just got our delivery of flooring yesterday which is currently filling up my garage! And I need my garage to park the cars when the snow starts falling!

Nothing like a little pressure to make things happen around here.