Sunday, February 15th, 2009
Yesterday, I had to run out to Home Depot to get some stuff for a little project I was working on (I’ll tell you about it in the next post). While making my list, I remembered that I needed some saw blades for my reciprocating saw. Remember me telling you about that in the “Replacing The Exhaust On A 1999 Honda Civic DX” post? If not, you should go re-read that post. It is quite fantastic.
While at the Depot, after I did all my “project” shopping, I managed to make my way over to the tool aisle. I found the reciprocating saw blades and promptly put two nice metal cutting blades in the cart. I noticed that they were priced at $3.99 each. That didn’t really bother me because I had a bunch of gift cards in my wallet. I figured that $8 wasn’t too bad. Then, I happened to look up to see a nice Dewalt reciprocating saw blade kit for $25 and change. I said to myself, “That’s too much. All I need is a few metal cutting blades.” I picked the kit up anyway. The kit has 11 blades and one handy-dandy blade carrying “tough-case.” I did the math and just couldn’t help myself. I was sold on the carrying case. I am so bad. I rationalized it by telling myself that I was saving money because I was getting all those blades at so much less than I would if I had purchased them individually. You see? I actually “saved” money by going out any buying something. Incredible.
Here, take a look.
Dewalt reciprocating saw blade kit
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Friday, February 13th, 2009
Oh, this is a good one.
So I was sitting here yesterday, nice and peacefully, working away when I received a phone call from my better half. She told me that the exhaust on her 1999 Honda Civic had fallen down and was dragging on the road. I asked if the open side was facing the front of the car or the rear. I wanted to know, because if it was facing the rear, she could drive the car, but if it was facing the front, she couldn’t. Being the smart lady she is, she had already looked and it was facing the front. Oh, lucky me.
The minute I got off the phone, I quickly put my cape on and ran downstairs to load up the car. I put my floor jack, a blanket and some string (I couldn’t find any wire) in the back of the car. I also grabbed some cutters. I raced down the road and drove for about two miles. Luckily, this all happened just as she turned off the main road, onto the back road we almost live on.
When I arrived, she was sitting in the car, chatting on the phone. She kind of gave me a smile and a wave. Man, remember the good ol’ days when people were hysterical when they were stuck on the side of the road? Not any more. Now, people pull out a lawn chair to grab a quick tan.
Anyway, I pulled my jack out and jacked up the car. I noticed that there really wasn’t anything to tie the pipe up to. The pipe was cold, so I just wrapped some string around it and pulled it towards the nearest fixture. I let her drive my car back to the house and I drove hers.
I have to tell you this…when I was pulling up the road at about 3 miles per hour, her car was very loud. It brought me back to the days when I used to drive cars like this…on purpose. What a silly time of my life. I felt like I was 16 again. I pulled in the driveway and was very happy to turn the thing off.
Earlier in the year, we made a decision that we weren’t going to fix the next big repair on this car. We were going to somehow get the car to the dealer, trade it in and buy a new one. There was a little part of my brain that wanted this to happen. I thought I had better at least look under the vehicle to see if this was going to be a big repair or a little one. One never knows with exhaust systems.
When I peeked under the car, I saw that the pipe between the one that comes down from the catalytic converter and the muffler pipe had broken in half. The pipe actually looked fine, it was the weld that rusted right through, or the area right next to the weld. While laying on the ground, I yelled out, “I can fix it!!!” I didn’t want to fix it, but I wanted the world to know that I, in fact, could fix it.
A few minutes later, I found myself on the phone ordering a new pipe, gaskets and bolt kits from NAPA auto parts down in Colchester. Everything came up to around $129. Not bad.
I told Laura about it and she thought that was just great. She really doesn’t drive the car all that much anymore, so the longer it lasts, the better. As I was sitting there telling her about it, I said, “I think it might be a good idea if I make sure I can get the old part off before I really commit to fixing this thing.” She agreed and we hit the garage.
I must tell you that working on a car in a garage is a little better than working on a car on a gravel driveway in the cold (like our old place). For some reason, every time something goes wrong with a car, it’s always during the winter. I have flashbacks of me changing the transmission of my Honda Prelude in the middle of a very cold February out in the driveway – in the dark. Those were the good ol’ days. I can still remember what sand and gravel feel like stuck to the back of my head. That really was a horrible, horrible time. Last night, working in a garage with warmth and a nice drop-light was certainly welcomed.
I had a little trouble getting the bolts off the exhaust joints. In the front, they were totally rusted on. In the back, they weren’t rusted at all, they just wouldn’t turn for anything. Good thing I had my trusted reciprocating saw. I cut the first bolt off and tried to get the second. When I realized the saw wasn’t working for the second bolt because I chewed all the teeth off the blade, I used my trusted grinder. What a treat. I buzzed that sucker right off and down fell the front part of the pipe.
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Rusty exhaust resonator for 1999 Honda Civic DX
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Cut exhaust pipe from 1999 Honda Civic DX
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Ground down bolt from exhaust on 1999 Honda Civic DX
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Rusty exhaust pipe joint with ground bolts from 1999 Honda Civic DX
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New exhaust pipe attached to existing muffler pipe – 1999 Honda Civic DX
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New exhaust pipe attached to existing rusty header pipe – 1999 Honda Civic DX
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New exhaust pipe facing rear of car, showing rubber hanger – 1999 Honda Civic DX
The back was another story. I tried to grind the bolts off the back and they were giving me a really tough time. I got the bright idea that if I just cut the pipe and pulled the whole muffler off, I could work a heck of a lot easier away from the car. I did just that. I pulled the muffler off and clamped it down in new Wilton 5″ multi-purpose vise. I easily ground the bolts right off and was left with a nice easy project. I went inside and told Laura about my success.
This morning, I ran down to the auto parts store to pick up the parts. I came back, jacked her car up and replaced the pipe. It took about a half hour and that was because most of the time was taken jacking up the car and putting safety blocks under it. That’s always such a necessary pain in the butt. The pipe looks good though and the car is nice and quiet now. I am quite proud of myself.
Now, if that rusty front pipe goes, time for a new car. That pipe is attached to the catalytic converter and those bolts are really on there.
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Thursday, December 4th, 2008
Man, It’s been a rough week.
I did a little complaining recently. I called a few people who are close to me and vented my frustration about the goings on of our world. They politely listened for a while, but both came to the same conclusion. They said, “Well Jay, things could be worse. You could be doing this or that, etc…” I guess that’s why I call people, so they can tell me to shut up and put things in perspective. I need that every once in a while.
I still think about life way too much.
Sometimes I just sit here with my head in my hands. I would just like the answer to one question: when did it all change?
In 2000, right after a graduated from Binghamton University for the second time, I had a plan. My plan was to release myself from all attachments with the real world and walk the Appalachian Trail. I was going to set my school loans on auto-pilot with my bank and fly as free as a bird. All I have ever really wanted was freedom; freedom from thought, freedom from today’s world, freedom from being dragged down by anything and everything.
I figured that walking the trail would really change my life. I was not interested in repeating the 9-5 job I sat through the year before while living in Atlanta. That was painful. All I was looking for was a way out…something different that wouldn’t trap me in the good ol’ American way of living day in and day out like the rest of the population.
Did I ever walk the Appalachian Trail? What do you think? Considering the fact that it takes about 10 months to complete and I never mentioned it before, I think not. I have actually walked a few miles on it here and there, but towards the end of each hike, I looked forward to driving back to the house, taking a nice shower and drinking a glass of wine. I don’t think I am exactly wired for growing a beard down to my waist and sleeping with the bears. The thought of a bear picking my tent up and eating it kind of freaks me out.
Let me tell you what bothers me about life as I know it – Worry.
Every day, I concern myself with each and every thing that probably concerns all of you. I think about money and security and politics and friends and life and everything else. I walk around in a fog, trying to make sense of every decision I make. It’s rare that I break out of that fog to have a clear thought. Maybe that’s why I like tennis so much, because I don’t think about anything else besides having fun. Although, I do like mowing the lawn for the same reason.
So, when did I change from the care free Jay to the constantly worrying Jay? I can tell you the exact day.
I have mentioned the fact that I moved to Atlanta a few times in the past. I lived there for a year, but the way I talk about it, it’s like I have a “Braves” tattoo on my right arm. Really, it was only a year, but it was a fun year.
I moved down when I was 24 years old. I packed up my 1989 Honda Accord with all of my belongings and hit the road. Basically, I just repacked the same items that I unpacked about a month ago after graduation.
I remember that drive down. I had one of those luggage containers strapped to the top of the car packed to the gills. Everything else I owned was spread out inside…on the back seat, on the front seat and in the trunk. There was no room for anything else.
On the highway, I remember the pleasure of wondering what my new life was going to be like. I didn’t know one person, the area or anything else about the entire state of Georgia. I usually do my best in these types of situations. As Rob always says, “You need to be like an Chameleon. Just change colors and fit right in.” Well, I did that and started off having a very good time.
Upon arrival at Morgan Falls Station, our awesome apartment complex, I was crazy excited. While I was waiting for the folks to finish up the apartment, I walked around a bit. I visited the 3 swimming pools, the work out centers, the tennis courts and the nature trails. It was nicer than anything I had expected. I recall wondering how $800 per month was paying for all this. Then, I remembered that things were a little different in the South. Up here, you get a tiny apartment above some old lady’s garage for $800 a month, and that’s a good deal. Down there, it’s like living at Club Med.
Needless to say, I was pleased. After I got settled in and had the phone hooked up, I called Rob. I was a non-stop talker. I told him about all the cool stuff that was there and about all the things we were going to do. I could tell that he was getting fidgety because he kept asking questions. We even got to the point of discussing what time it got dark in Atlanta. There is about a half hour difference between down there and up North. We used the scientific method of, “Is it dark now? What about now?”
After a few weeks of driving around a midnight (because there was so much traffic during the day) and getting to know people, I had really gotten used to it. I had a few friends and was playing tennis like it was nobody’s business. I didn’t have a job, so what else was there to do? I felt like I was living in a resort.
At the same time, my parents were planning their big move to Wilmington, NC. My sister Laurie had her first child and I guess my parents thought that watching water drip off their cars in the morning was a better idea than scraping ice off of them, like they did up North for all those years. The stars were aligned and they made the jump. They broke out of the New York shackles and started moving to North Carolina.
For the years that I attended Binghamton University and up to the time I moved to Atlanta, my parents took care of my big, beautiful Golden Retriever. I acquired this hairy beast a few years earlier, while I was attending Westchester Community College. It’s funny, because before getting a dog, I really gave no thought to what was going to happen to him for the rest of his life. I figured I would give him to my parents after I moved out and that would be that.
One day, while sitting on the floor (I had no furniture) of my Atlanta apartment, I received a phone call from my mother. “Jay, your father is driving a big truck down to the new house in Wilmington and he is bringing your dog with him.” she said. I replied, “Oh good, he will really like it in your new house.” “No Jay.” she said, “You are going to drive over and get him. He is your dog.”
Well, this came as sort of a surprise to me. Why in the world would someone want to hand over a perfectly good dog to someone as irresponsible as I was? As my mother put it, she couldn’t bear to see the dog laying on the kitchen floor looking up at her. His eyes broke her heart. She knew that he needed to run in the woods and swim in the river. He was a Golden, after all.
The day my father arrived at the new house in Wilmington, I was there to pick up the beast. I made the 7 hour drive and was quite excited to see my dog again.
I remember pulling in and seeing him tied to a small tree at the end of the driveway, waiting for me to give him a big hug. I leapt out of the car and ran over to him. I untied him and we instantly became entangled in a long embrace. That was my dog.
After a few hours of hanging out and going to the ocean, we left to head back to Atlanta. Again, I hadn’t given much thought as to what would happen next.
After my new roommate and I arrived back at the apartment, we did a little hanging out. Things were great. We went for a walk and I showed him all the stuff he was going to do for the next chapter of his life. It really was a grand ol’ time.
That night, a friend of mine called and asked if I wanted to go out to do something. I immediately said yes. Then, I looked down and saw my dog looking up at me. I paused and said something that I am not sure I have ever said to anyone in my life before that moment…”Wait, actually, I can’t.” I didn’t offer any reason for not being able to go out that night, but I definitely knew that something big in my life had shifted.
At that very moment, while standing there talking on the phone that night, I think I actually became responsible.
I know that sounds like the strangest thing you probably have ever read, but it’s true. I feel strange writing it. The reason I didn’t go out that night is because it was my dog’s first night in his new home and I didn’t feel right about leaving him there all alone.
All of a sudden, I started giving all types of thought to how my dog would feel if I did certain things. I knew I had to take him for a walk in the morning and that I had to be back after work to feed him and take him for another walk, but what really struck me was how I was unable to go visit friends in other cities and stay over their houses or apartments. I wasn’t ready to say no to trips to fun places, like the one that Rob made down to the Okefenokee Swamp in Southern Georgia. That one hurt because I really wanted to go there. I had to keep thinking about my dog and how I didn’t want to put him in a boarding kennel in a town I hardly even knew myself.
As it turned out, my consideration for everything and everyone snowballed from there. I began making sure more and more things were okay. I started saving my money and getting ready for the move back to New York to go to grad school. I stopped going out and doing stupid things that wouldn’t help me get to that goal. I never called in sick to work and I paid off that huge balance I had on my credit card. I don’t even want to talk about how much my soul has tightened up after I graduated from graduate school after the move back to New York. They basically train you how to become a herb.
I was most certainly becoming a worrier.
One might say, “Well Jay, aren’t those all good things?” I would agree, but I have to admit that once you grow up and become overly responsible, a little part of you disappears. How many times have you asked yourself, “Remember all those times we used to do that? Do you think we’ll ever do that again?” The answers are yes and probably not.
I was talking to Laura the other day about what I like to talk to my friends about. I told her my three top priorities are real estate, business and personal finance. Can you get any more boring than that? What ever happened to travel, drinking and where we are going to move to next?
At this point in my life, I feel that I am almost the opposite of what I wanted to be after graduate school. Sure, my little dream of walking the Trail may have been just a dream, but it was an indication of what I wanted to do and how I wanted to live my life.
At that time, I wanted two legal associations. I wanted one bank account and my student loan. That was it. Currently, I have more associations than I know what to do with. I understand that this is what happens when you buy a house and operate a business, but I must admit, at times it’s smothering.
Lately, I have been thinking about how I could get back to my ideal self, about how I could loosen up and at least become a shadow of that fun guy I think I used to be. I think I have a plan.
While I won’t precisely lay out my plan here, I will at least tell you that it has a lot to do with seasonal weather, long walks on the beach and campfires.
As you may have guessed, I gave Mickles a very good life and in return, he was a very good dog. I appreciate the fact that he spent the majority of his life with me. I would guess that he enjoyed his time in Atlanta the most. He had the field, the woods and the river. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.
I decided to post a few photos of my good friend here. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them throughout the years.
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Saturday, November 29th, 2008
He should have never bought that gun.
You know, for the past few days, I have been agonizing over how I am going to make this story good. On the surface, it seems like a simple task, but the more I have been thinking about it, trying to make someone smile through writing is a challenging feat. I knew I had to start writing soon because I had already committed to it a few days ago. I’m not sure who wants to see this story on my blog more, you or me.
Recently, my Aunt, who is a writer, told me that she really gets a kick out of what I jot down here. This means an awful lot to me because she is in the writing business. Truthfully, I have absolutely no training at all when it comes to expressing myself through text and it’s a little intimidating knowing that someone with years of successful stories behind her is on the other side of the screen. I mean sure, I attended English class back in high school and college, but I’m not sure I retained anything. When the day finally came where I wanted to get something off my chest, I started to learn.
I asked her to give me feedback if she saw a glaring error. Actually, I would appreciate feedback if I make a small mistake, like using “it’s” instead of “its.” What would be great is if she let me behind the scenes regarding strategy. How do I start a story off? What should be the first line? Where should I begin the crescendo, like in music or a verbal story? These are all things that can make or break what I, or anyone else, writes.
As you may have noticed, some of my posts are better than others.
Sometimes, an entry comes out nicely when I least expect it, like my recent post, “Snowboarding Is Back.” I really just wanted to get something down quickly, but after I started getting into it, I got more and more motivated.
Sometimes entries don’t come out so nicely. I think I had high hopes for my, “The Rules Of Blogging” post, but I was a little perturbed when I sat down to write that, so it didn’t come out as planned. I actually had to delete an entire paragraph from that one because I thought it came across mildly abrasive.
When I think about what is going to make or break a post, like trying to figure out the answers to those questions I asked above, I think it’s entirely up to me. If I took lessons from someone, the story wouldn’t be entirely mine and it might seem “forced.” It depends on how I feel right at that point of what I am doing.
My Aunt tells me that she enjoys the details. I enjoy writing them. If I can express to someone how all those little green blades of grass feel when they are softly tickling my toes, I think that’s a success. Otherwise, we have a bland story, and no one wants that.
Just a few minutes ago, I was standing in the shower trying to raise my body temperature. As the water got hotter and hotter, I began thinking. I guess the water temperature got my brain moving. I had so many thoughts running through my head about just how I would explain the beginning of this post. So many thoughts were good, although I’m not sure I just spent the past fifteen minutes expressing any of them. I forget so easily. If I could figure out a way to lay my thoughts out faster, I might be on to something, until then, this is what we get.
So it begins…
When I graduated college, I had zero dollars. I was broke. I’m not sure I was in a position to do anything with my life other than to live at my parent’s house and find a job. At least I would have had someplace to sleep and I would be fed. Looking back, I think that might have been a good idea, but that really wouldn’t have put me where I am today. I took the challenging path, which is the one I usually end up taking.
In the past few years, I have had more conversations about how other people live their lives than I care to admit. “If I did it, then so should you,” is how I would usually end a conversation. I probably got that line of thinking from my father. It frustrates me when I see people not working to their potential. I’m not sure why, because seriously, it’s none of my business. It’s just that when I think back on all the adventures I have had through life, I guess I want others to share in those kinds of adventures too. If they are taking the easy way out, then they are missing many of the challenges and rewards that life has to offer. When you take the hard path and accomplish something, you tend to realize it once it’s done. That, my friends, is a good feeling.
A few months before graduation, my friend Rob and I decided to look for a place to live. We had been hearing many good things about Atlanta, Georgia for a while and decided to hop in the car for a trip down South. I actually had a professor who used to live in that city, so I would pick his brain during our student/teacher meetings. I am sure that time could have been better spent (at the rate I was going), but now I’m not so sure. What really struck me was his recollection of Lake Lanier, North of Atlanta. He said it was very active, very deep and very cool. I have always wanted to live near a lake, so hearing this only made me all the more excited for our trip.
Rob is a fun guy to travel with. He can be trusted behind the wheel and the conversation is good. We seem to be on the same page a lot, which makes for a good amount of agreement when it comes to really trying to analyzing something, such as a new place to live. If you had been sitting there, listening to us that first night in Atlanta, you would have heard a, sort of, agreement fight. We were so involved in what we were agreeing on, it may have been viewed as an argument. It’s funny to engage in and I’m sure it’s even more funny to watch.
Rob at age 14 (I think)
I remember a little something about our first drive South to the town nicknamed, “Hotlanta.” We were cruising down one of Virginia’s most scenic highways, Interstate 81. Rob was behind the wheel of his Honda CRX and I was in the passenger seat, trying to get some sleep with one eye open. I generally don’t trust anyone behind the wheel besides myself, but as I said above, Rob is okay, hence, only one eye being open.
The car was already a mess. For some reason, it is impossible to take a trip that lasts more than three hours without the entire car being filled with garbage. This is a phenomenon I will never understand.
I am not sure what began the exchange, but when I opened the other eye, I peered over to see Rob giving someone in a bright blue pickup truck next to us the one finger salute. I got all excited and told Rob to cut the crap. I said, “Rob man, these people aren’t like us. If they somehow get the cops down here to pull us over, they are going to tear our Yankee asses out of this car and no one will ever see us again.” Of course, Virginia is only a few miles past the Mason-Dixon Line and I was at a very ignorant point in my life. Rob tried to explain that the pickup truck had cut him off and the finger was warranted, but I wasn’t having any of it. All I wanted was to get to Atlanta in one piece so I could make a decision that would affect me for at least the next year of my life.
We drove for a while longer and eventually forgot about the whole exchange. The conversation was fluid, but we both agreed that it was time to pull over, get some gas and browse the service station aisles for its best and healthiest food. After all, we were already at the bottom of Virginia and had been driving for a good long time.
We found an exit that had a huge “Gas” sign next to the exit ramp. We pulled off the highway and made a right. We quickly made another right into the gas station.
While Rob was creeping along, trying to figure out the best place to fill up, something made me glance out the back window. A few moments after I did, I managed to force out an, “Uh oh.” Um, yeah, you guessed it, a bright blue pickup truck was pulling in right after us. Mind you, this was like an hour after we had seen our last bright blue pickup truck.
We stopped in front of the gas pump.
I saw Rob stiffen up when the pickup truck guy start walking towards the car. I had no idea what was about to take place, but I was ready to pounce. I was going to let this good ol’ boy know what it felt like to get his ass whooped by a young and limber red headed Yankee.
As he approached the car, the pickup truck dude finally said, “What are you doin’, showin’ me your age?” to which Rob replied, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” The guy responded, “Don’t act like it never happened. I saw you back there giving me the finger.” Rob came back with a swift and forceful, “I didn’t give you the finger, that would be road rage.”
Okay, after I realized the pickup truck guy wasn’t going to try to tear either of us out of the car, I let my guard down and loosened my grip on the fist of death. There would be no Southern altercation today. The gentleman, who actually ended up to be quite pleasant, walked away with another story to tell his friends and we filled up the tank, did our thing, and continued on, headed South.
We made it to Atlanta, and after a few days of driving around, we decided against moving there after graduation. We thought the culture was oriented too much around work. Everyone seemed to be working all the time. Work, work, work, work, work. That went against the grain of Jay and Rob, who honestly weren’t all that much into the whole work thing. We left and headed up to Nashville, Tennessee. Now, that’s a story for another time.
A few weeks later and after hanging out up North for a while, I made the call. I said, “Rob, let’s move down to Atlanta. What the heck. It would be something new and if we don’t like it, we won’t stay past the first year’s lease.” He agreed and we decided to move on down after I came back from college in Binghamton.
Rob helped me out a lot those first few months. As I already mentioned, I had no money. The complex we lived in had a pretty sweet deal…either take the first month’s rent for free, or spread a discount across all twelve months of the lease. Since I moved down about a month earlier than Rob, I said that we should take the first month free, and then we would split the remaining ones after I get a job.
Rob, Pete and Jay in Atlanta
The job didn’t happen until a few months into our little adventure. We took the first month’s rent for free and then Rob covered the next month. Right at the end of that month, I finally got a job and started paying Rob back. He had payed for more than just rent. He payed for the groceries, the utilities and everything else. You know, he didn’t even make a peep about it either, perhaps that’s why I never made a fuss about what happened next.
One day, Rob decided that it would be a good idea to buy a .22 caliber rifle. That’s right, a rifle. Now, this wasn’t a big, powerful gun, it was basically a step up from a BB gun, but still, it could do some damage. Rob walked into Wal-Mart with a wallet and walked out of Wal-Mart with a wallet and a gun. It seems like Georgia actually encourages this kind of stuff.
There was one thing I knew for sure; Rob should, in absolutely no way, own a gun. He has a little history with guns that I will tell you about right now, in numerical order.
1. One day while twirling my BB gun in the front yard, Rob shot the out neighbor’s house window.
2. One day, while shooting targets with my BB gun in the backyard, Rob missed the target and the BB ricochet about three times and hit me in the temple.
3. One day, while standing at the end of the driveway twirling my BB gun, Rob blew out the back window of our friend’s Mustang, while it was driving down the road.
The fact that Rob owned this gun made me nervous. Luckily, neither of us ever saw it again in Atlanta after the day he bought it. He must have put it in his closet for protection or something.
I will move ahead about a year to get this party started.
After our Atlanta experience, we decided to move back up North. I decided to stay at Craig’s house for a month or so, before moving back to Binghamton for grad school. Rob ended up back at his parents’ house for a short stay before renting a house down in town.
Craig owned about 40 acres of land up in Oneonta, NY. We would all visit about once a month to see what he was up to. When we arrived, Craig was usually straddling some earth moving machine in an effort to either create a road, a dirt bike track or a pond. Every time we were there, Craig was working on some project. Over the years, Craig had collected quite the array of machinery to assist him in his effort to transform his 40 acres into the land of his dreams.
Craig was quite dedicated and Craig was quite serious.
There was one particular visit I remember well. Both Rob and I were on slate for a weekend visit to “the farm.” Since I was already there, I don’t think it qualified as a “visit” for me. For Rob, the three hour drive definitely made him a visitor.
During the few weeks I lived at Craig’s, I witnessed him acquire a few neat little machines. These were basically farm type things and I really don’t know what some of them were used for. I know one spread around manure. It was a cool trailer type machine that, when towed, spread cow crap all over the fields for various reasons, such as fertilizing the grass and, well, getting rid of the manure.
Another piece of equipment Craig acquired while I was there was an old dump truck. It must have been from the 60s or 70s. It was old and rusty. This was his pride and joy.
I remember the day he rolled in the driveway with it. I took one look and said, “What the hell are you going to do with that? Does it run?” He replied, “Of course it runs. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a good running work truck like this around here for so cheap?” He looked so excited and I didn’t want to burst his bubble, so I just kind of shook my head and walked away.
Well, Craig decided it was worth talking about, so he chased me. He explained that this work truck was going to save him countless hours of time. Instead of moving dirt around with the machines, now he could fill up the dump body of the truck and haul the dirt where ever he wanted. His eyes were so bright when he told me about what this truck could do, he almost glowed. I hadn’t realized it, but he had been looking for a truck like this for some time. They were so scarce because none of the farmers in the area ever let them go. They were all using them for their own purposes.
Okay, if it was important to him, it was important to me. I wouldn’t make fun of it.
Rob wasn’t there for this conversation. Rob had no idea how much Craig loved that truck. Rob showed up and wanted to drink beer and ride dirt bikes, of which we were both only too happy to oblige.
We had a good time the night after Rob arrived. We ate and drank and told stories of all the crazy stuff we used to do. Craig showed us the shiny new rifle he recently bought, but hadn’t fired yet. Living on a farm in the middle of no where, I guess one needs a huge rifle that uses 3 1/2 bullets. I saw them and they could probably penetrate tank armor. Craig was pretty excited about this and said he was going to see how it shot the next day.
It just so happens that Rob decided to bring his gun too. Sure, it wasn’t nearly as powerful as Craig’s new bazooka, but it would be fine during target practice. I just had to be sure the stay the hell away from Rob when he was firing this thing. At the time, I thought it wasn’t a bad idea to bring that gun up to Craig’s, since it was on a hillside in Oneonta, NY. There was virtually no one for miles.
You know, come to think of it, at no point that night did Craig ever express to Rob the importance of his new work truck.
We woke up the next morning. As usual, Rob was up first, looking to get a jump on the day. He was always so damn chipper when he was up there, it was annoying. I wanted my beauty sleep, but I guess I was kind of excited too. After all, this was the day we were going to see two guns that had never been fired before, fired.
We took showers and walked downstairs, but couldn’t find Craig. We strolled around for a while, got some coffee and decided to sit on the couch and talk. The house was silent and kind of boring, but we didn’t really want to get into doing farm chores…we would leave those for Craig. We were there to have fun.
After a few minutes of some pretty lazy conversation, we were shaken by a huge “BA BOOOOM!!!” Our eyes shot wide open and poor Rob almost fell off the couch. I think my heart skipped a beat when I heard that enormously loud explosion. I looked at Rob and Rob looked at me. We both thought we were under attack. Rob started to get to his feet, when another “BA BOOOOM!!!” knocked him back on the couch. I felt so bad because he had no idea what the heck was going on. Neither of us did.
We got to our feet and raced to the back window, the one overlooking the mountainside. There, we saw Craig standing and smiling with a grin so wide it went from ear to ear. He was standing there with his huge new rifle in his hand and a new wake up call. He was staring straight at us and obviously knew he was going to scare the heck out of us. I’m not sure if he was so happy because he scared us or that he mutilated whatever it was that he just shot.
Craig's back porch
Hillside in Oneonta, NY
I just stood there staring out the window, frozen, when I saw Rob whiz past me and run down the back porch stairs. Oh no, he had his gun too. I guess I had been in a trance longer than I thought because Rob had actually run upstairs to grab his gun and bullets, got his sneakers on and made it outside before I even knew what was going on.
I quickly pulled my sneakers on and tightened up the laces nice and snug. I flew outside to meet Rob standing a good distance in back of Craig. Craig was setting up for another shot and we didn’t want to be anywhere near him when we heard the…”BA BOOOOM!!!” again. Yeah, that was it, he took another shot.
We were both standing there next to each other when Rob asked, “What in the world is that?” He was looking at Craig’s new truck. I said, “Oh, don’t ask. That’s Craig’s new work truck. Like he needs another hunk of junk around here.” Rob said, “Seriously.” and began walking down to Craig, who was filling his rifle up with another bullet.
I remember standing there when I saw Rob stop about half way between Craig and me. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of bullets. He took the clip out of his gun and filled it with the bullets he just pulled out of the pocket.
At that point, things started to move in slow motion…very slow motion.
When Craig woke up early in the morning, he walked down to the new work truck and placed a shooting target on the very rearmost, highest tip of the wooden boards used as sides to the dump body. The main dump body was steel, but there were two 2×10s on each side of the bed to hold more material. This target was placed neatly on the uppermost corner, far out of reach of the rest of the truck. It was almost invisible from where Rob was standing.
When Craig shot his gun, the bullet was so powerful and so fast, it simply sliced through the paper target and splintered the wood. The bullet easily exited the backside of the board. It was almost like there was no damage from the small missiles at all. Craig hit the target three times and the board was still clearly intact.
Craig had loaded his gun and Rob had loaded his gun.
No one ever told Rob that there was a target on the back of the truck.
Craig set up to take another shot when we both heard, “PAP PAP PAP PAP PAP.” It was Rob’s gun going off. I think Craig liked it because now Rob was getting into the mix. Rob was standing there like he was a hitman taking down a rival gang.
“BA BOOOOM!!!” again. Craig made another shot. “PAP PAP PAP PAP…” Rob kept firing. I think his clip held 20 bullets and he had emptied them all. “BA BOOOOM!!!” Craig had fired his last bullet. What a morning it was.
I stood there watching the whole thing from behind them both. What struck me as odd was the angle of Rob’s gun. It wasn’t lined up with the target and it kept moving from side to side. Craig’s, on the other hand, stayed straight and steady, like it was in the hands of a trained marksman.
I stood there in disbelief. My mouth parted slightly and hung open as I realized what had just happened. The corners of my mouth began to curl upward. I started walking toward both Rob and Craig when I overheard them congratulating themselves for the massive amount of firepower they had just displayed. I just kept on walking, one foot in front of the other.
When I reached them, the three of us started walking down to the truck together. We were quiet during this time and for some strange reason, no one said a word. The silence was deafening. All we heard was the crunching of the dried dirt beneath out feet.
We had about 100 feet to walk in total and about 50 feet were left. When we reached 20 feet, we all heard a “HISSSSSSSS.”
Craig’s head quickly snapped over to look at Rob when he belted out, “ROBERT, WHAT DID YOU DO???”
I felt a tear forming in the outside corner of my right eye. My upper lip began to tremble in anticipation of the discovery we were about to make. My feet started shifting in my shoes.
A few steps closer and the hiss got louder.
That’s when all three of us simultaneously saw bullet holes peppered out over the entire side of Craig’s new work truck…his pride and joy…his saviour of countless hours of hard labor.
I began making quiet screaming noises inside my tightly clamped mouth. My eyes were only half way open and my forehead has scrunched up more than it had ever been. At this point, tears were fully formed and rolling down my cheeks. I really tried to hold it in.
As we got closer, we found that the tire was punctured, the windshield was shattered, the side of the truck had about 10 bullet holes in it and the front fender was hit multiple times. There were no bullet holes anywhere near the target at the back of the truck.
I turned around and began walking back up the hill towards the house. Craig looked over at Rob and started yelling at him. I finally let a breath out and nearly broke down in the middle of the field. I looked back to find that they had popped the hood of the truck open. Rob had shot the fender, which sheltered the engine. Apparently, Rob’s bullets made their way through the distributor cap, the radiator and the valve covers. The truck was unusable.
I kept walking up the hill and heard the yelling get louder. It was like a cartoon. A few more quick glances and it felt like someone slipped peyote in my morning drink. I was full fledged balling at this point. All I could do was walk away and dream of brighter days ahead.
I love Rob. I love him to death. The gifts he has bestowed upon me are immeasurable. I am not sure he will ever know the joy he has brought to my life.
This, my friends, was the second funniest thing that has ever happened in my life and I enjoyed sharing it with you very much.
Thank you.
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Monday, September 15th, 2008
This article was written by Jay G on behalf of CycleClassifieds.US, a popular motorcycle classifieds website.
The Thrill of Motorcycling – 5 Ways to Get into Riding
Motorcycling is cool. Motorcycling is fast. Motorcycling gives you a rush. There is no doubt about it. I don’t think anyone can dispute the fact that there is a certain breed of person out there that just loves the feeling of being out in the fresh air, cruising down the highway. I suspect there are a lot more people who would like to ride than we know about. The question is, how do they get going?
It’s like a lot of things; take it one step at a time. Later on, I will give my 5 top ways to get into riding, but first, I am going to tell you about my own experience learning to love motorcycles.
I would say I was about 14 years old when I purchased my friend’s tiny Honda Z50R. It was very small, but very fun. I used to ride it around the block and travel to friend’s houses on it. I grew out of that bike fast, but I did learn a few things; how to balance and corner a motorcycle.
My next few motorcycles were all dirt bikes. They were a Suzuki RM80, Honda CR125 and a Suzuki RM125. These were bigger machines and worthwhile investments. They taught me how to ride taller motorcycles and how to ride on a dirt track.
There were many other smaller learning experiences that went along with owning and riding dirt bikes. Those came with time. Some of them included learning where the best dealerships were located, how to repair and maintain a motorcycle, how to purchase the right parts and where the best places to ride were. It was a lot of fun and I wouldn’t give up those experiences for anything.
When I turned 17 years old, I purchased my first street bike. It was a Suzuki GR 650 Tempter. This was a big change for me, because I had never ridden a street motorcycle before. I have to say, it was a great learning bike. There was enough power, but not too much to do anything stupid or get in any trouble. The bike was smooth and just enough to get my feet wet on the streets.
There were a few years during college where I didn’t own a motorcycle, but knew I would soon. After college, I went ahead and bought the bike I own today, a Suzuki GSXR 1100. This is one serious motorcycle, and yes, one I could easily get in trouble on. Sometimes I get shaken by its unexpected power. I would only recommend this type of motorcycle to the most mature and experienced rider.
I love my current motorcycle, but will admit that it does get on my nerves at times. I sometimes wish I owned a laid back highway cruiser. Now that I am getting older, I don’t enjoy hunching over the gas tank as much as I used to. Style is not as important to me anymore and comfort is becoming more. Also, having a larger seat for a passenger is becoming a necessity. No passenger likes riding so high up and having to hold on for dear life.
With all the experience I have gained on a wide variety of motorcycles through the years, I feel that I am in a position to offer to some great tips on how to get into riding.
1.Visit a dealership. Yes, it seems so simple, but a huge hurdle to get past is deciding if you really can feel it in your blood. If you are like me, you will leave the dealership panting like a fool. If you leave still undecided, motorcycling might not be right for you.
2.Talk to people. If you have ever heard a group of riders talk about a trip they have taken or are about to take, chime in. Ask them questions and notice how easily they will include you in the ride. Some of them might even offer to take you as a passenger. The community is friendly and always welcoming to new riders.
3.Think about costs. Motorcycling can be an expensive hobby if you are just getting by already. You need to be ready for the financial side of things. You can expect the cost of the motorcycle, insurance, registration, maintenance, apparel and the cost of fuel. It’s easy to get sucked in to buying every after market part available for your motorcycle, so be sure you can afford the hobby first.
4.Go for a ride. Try to find someone who owns a motorcycle and ask them if you can hop on the back during their next ride. Try to find someone with a larger motorcycle for this, especially if you are larger yourself. You’ll know if motorcycling is the right thing to do once the wind hits your face.
5.Take a training course. I am one of those types of people who just want to get a bike and hop on, but friends of mine have told me how important a training course really is. They thought they knew all there was to know about motorcycling, but each day they came away with new knowledge. It’s important to learn how to ride properly.
After considering and completing the tips above, you should be in a position to purchase your first motorcycle. Look through the motorcycle classifieds or visit your local dealer. Find the right motorcycle for you and make the purchase. Since you made some riding contacts and are somewhat familiar with motorcycling in general, you should be in good shape. Just remember, safety comes first and when it comes to riding, patience is a virtue.
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Monday, September 15th, 2008
This article was written by Jay G on behalf of MotoClassifieds.US, a popular auto classifieds website.
Is selling a car privately a hassle? Not anymore. We already know about the popularity of classifieds sections in newspapers and magazines, but with the advent of websites devoted completely to online auto classifieds, things have gotten much easier. Gone are the days of having to wait until Monday morning to catch a customer service representative on the phone to place your ad.
Auto Classifieds – What are the Benefits? Do They Work?
That’s a pretty good question. For as long as I have been alive (and that’s 34 years), I have seen “Used Car For Sale†ads at every corner. These days, it’s one of the most popular online classified genres, not to mention being very popular with newspapers, magazines, radio and television.
Let me start this off with a short story. I had an “auto related†experience a few months ago.
In early January of this year, I was in the market for a new car. Since I have driven a Honda Accord as my two previous cars and a Honda Prelude as the one before that, I pretty much knew what I was going to buy. I dabbled with the thought of getting a BMW 5 Series, but I wasn’t ready for something so expensive. Maybe I’ll get the Beamer next time.
On January 3, I visited my local Honda dealer and was quite ready to drive home in something new. That day, I drove on the lot in a 1998 Honda Accord V6 and was planning on driving off the lot in a 2008 Honda Accord V6. Obviously, I was going to trade my car in. Before my trip to the dealer, I looked up the value of my 1998 Accord on KBB. They valued the car at around $3,500. I was slightly shocked, because I thought the car was worth more than that. I mean, this was my baby. This was the car I had taken such good care of over the years. But, if that is what the car was valued at, who was I to argue?
Upon choosing the make and model of the Accord I wanted to purchase, I entered negotiations with the salesperson. I was told that the dealership would give me $1,500 to trade in my 1998 Accord. As you could imagine, I got red in the face and threatened to walk out. They raised the price to $2,000, but I still argued for a bit. After a while, I realized they weren’t going to budge from that price, so I caved. Sound familiar? Has something like this ever happened to you?
Now, can you guess what everyone said to me after I told them of my experience? I’m sure you can. They said, “You know, you could’ve gotten a heck of a lot more money for your car if you had sold it yourself.†Gee, really? Of course I could’ve. I mean, everyone knows that dealers don’t give you as much as the car is worth. Why is that? It’s because of all the costs associated with prepping a car to sell on their lot. If it’s an older car, they can’t even sell it and it goes to auction. To be honest, I am not even sure what the dealerships do with some of the cars they take as trade-ins. I have heard stories about people getting $1 for the car they gave to the dealer.
So, I’ll admit that I could’ve made more money if I had sold my car privately. The question is why I, and so many others, lose money to trade their cars in. The answer to that question probably has something to do with convenience. We don’t want to deal with the hassle of a private sale.
Is selling a car privately a hassle? Not anymore. As I stated above, we already know about the popularity of classifieds sections in newspapers and magazines, but with the advent of websites devoted completely to online auto classifieds, things have gotten much easier. Gone are the days of having to wait until Monday morning to catch a customer service representative on the phone to place your ad. You can now access an auto classifieds website any time you want, from the comfort of your own home. You can write a description, upload a photo, add any features you want and pay by credit card within a matter of minutes. Some websites even offer the entire service for free. Either way, your ad will be live when you are finished. It will also be accessible to anyone from anywhere.
Now that we have that cleared up, let’s go over some of the benefits of selling your used car online:
- Convenience. Auto classified websites offer “any time, any place†type of convenience.
- Reach. By place your car ads online, you will virtually be reaching buyers across the globe. Too many people? Don’t worry; these websites have tools to narrow down a potential buyer’s search.
- Account management. You can place, edit and delete your ad any time you wish with your own private account management tool.
- Popularity. These days, more and more buyers are turning to the web to search for their new rides. Many of them don’t even (and never have) read the newspaper.
- Multiple ads. Many auto classifieds websites allow sellers to place multiple ads, oftentimes for a discounted price, or for even no cost at all.
- Help. Many websites have online tutorials or help pages that assist you in selling your car.
- Multiple venues. When you advertise your car on one classified website, oftentimes your ad will show on related websites as well. It’s these “viral†relationships that get much more exposure for your ad.
As you can see, there are many benefits to placing your used car for sale online. Do the online ads work? Well, that first depends on the ad itself. If you write a strong description, show a good photo and offer a fair price, I wouldn’t see why not. If everything is lined up, I would think you would have a successful sale within a matter of days or weeks.
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Monday, June 16th, 2008
Seven Ways to Save Energy by Saving Water
Though many states and localities are waking up to their water shortages and taking steps to plan for “peak waterâ€, people generally continue to waste water and to ignore the energy-water link.
New Material Absorbs Light Completely And Generates Electric
A partnership between Duke University and Boston College turned out to be very beneficial for the science world, as they obtained a metamaterial that absorbs all the light it gets (yes, it becomes invisible) and that is supposed to generate energy more efficiently than the solar cells.
Civic Outsells F-150 for First Time Ever
Go little Civic, go!
How To Heat Up Solar
It seems incredible then that the U.S. Senate has again failed to pass a bill that would extend solar tax credits to build new power plants.
Prius is Now the Most Searched New Car on Cars.com
Cars.com has announced that for the first time ever, the Toyota Prius has become the most searched for new vehicle on the popular vehicle classifieds site — surpassing long time favorites such as the Accord and Camry. The Prius first appeared in the top 10 most searched vehicles list last summer.
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Wednesday, March 5th, 2008
The other day, during our Connecticut trip, I passed the 1000 mile mark in my almost new car.
I was wondering when this was going to happen, since it’s been a while. I think I’m doing pretty well, considering I bought the car on January 3rd and hit 1000 miles on March 3rd. That’s about 500 miles per month. Not bad for saving gas.
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Wednesday, January 9th, 2008
2008 Honda Accord Review (Test Drive)
A hands on review of the newly redesigned 2008 Honda Accord. A full test drive based review!
Modulo 2008 Honda Inspire / Accord
Since the announced of 2008 Honda Inspire/Accord. Many of the Honda specialized tuner take their opportunity to show off their capability. After Muger now presenting to you is the Access, one of the tuner show out in 2008 Tokyo Auto Salon.
Civic Hybrid vs. Prius
Road Test: 2006 Honda Civic Hybrid vs. 2006 Toyota Prius & 2005 Honda Accord Hybrid vs. 2007 Toyota Camry Hybrid
The fall of the Honda Accord – Who is on Top now?
See the top rated family sedans from Consumer Reports. The Honda Accord has finally fallen from its #1 spot. Who tops the 2008 list of sedans?
HONDA ACCORD HITS THE BIG 3-0!
This year marks the 30th anniversary of the Honda Accord in the UK. Over the past four decades, more than 15,800,000 units have been sold across the globe, making it one of the most popular cars in the world.
A Honda that will get 62.8 MPG and is not a hybrid!
Feast your eyes on this, car technology and high-mileage nuts. It’s a Honda Accord that runs on diesel. It gets 62.8 miles a gallon on the highway, but otherwise looks and feels like a regular Accord.
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Wednesday, January 9th, 2008
Foreign press leaks pics of New Saab SUV concept car
Saab’s putting out a new small SUV to compete with the BMW X3 and Land Rover LR2 Freelander. It’s called the 9-4X, and a prototype will be shown at the Detroit Auto show next week. The first pics hit the web ahead of schedule. Not bad looking, but does the world need another small SUV?
2010 Ford Mustang GT spied, sporting GT500 wheels?
Jalopnik was the first to bring you pictures of a heavily camouflaged 2010 Ford Mustang and now they’re going up-powered. They’re the first to bring pictures of a similarly camouflaged 2010 Ford Mustang GT…and it appears to be sporting GT500 wheels.
Toyota reveals A-BAT El Camino-like concept pickup truck
It’s a truck-car from Toyota that looks like it was formed via a menage-a-truck between the Honda Ridgeline, the Chevy Avalanche and a Toyota Prius.
Exploding the new Corvette ZR1’s LS9 engine
An exploded view of the 620+ HP supercharged LS9 engine from the newly revealed 2009 Corvette ZR1 just to show how it ticks. Here’s every single part in the engine — in detail — for all to see.
5 Things you need to know about the new Corvette ZR1
This cocktail party cheat sheet might come in handy this week. Among the weirder things: the Ferrari Enzo’s front brakes are the new Corvette’s rear brakes, and a special paint coating for the roof cost GM over $60,000 per gallon.
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