The second John Rain book, Hard Rain delves deeper into the troubled character of the series protagonist and anti-hero, John Rain.
Rating: Good stuff all around
Buzz Aldrin punches a guy who accuses him of never going to the moon and calls him a coward. But the guy was asking for it. Via digg.
Tuesday’s windshield repair seemed to go smoothly at the time. The glass is fine, but the rain sensor promptly fell off it’s mounting point and is now dangling behind the inside rear-view mirror. When I discovered this on the way home yesterday I called the installer and scheduled a second repair for today.
The first repair was “scheduled” to happen between 8:00 am and 12:00 pm. Naturally the installer showed up precisely at 12:00. So when I was told that the new appointment could be today between 1:00 and 5:00 I explained that I’d be leaving work at 3:00 so that car’s location would change after that time. The dispatcher then wanted to schedule a range that ended at 3:00; recalling the result of that on Tuesday, I said it had to be completed no later than three.
So now I have a “scheduled” visit between 8:00 am and 2:00 pm.
Why can’t they just say, “You’re number x on a list of y customers, and the typical service call lasts 45 minutes, so we’ll call you around (x times 45 minutes after 8:00) to let you know the exact time.”
Obviously, since the time spans the lunch hour, they will call just after I get my meal heated up and back to my desk – regardless of the time I decide to eat.
Sigh.
My worst fears about the reapplication of the rain sensor to the inside of my new windshield were realized this afternoon. Just 90 minutes after the repair was completed the sensor was once again dangling from its wire harness.
<Expletive deleted />
I called the SafeLite people once again (it’s a bad sign when you can remember their phone number only two days after learning of them for the first time.) and scheduled a Saturday morning appointment here at home. (A) The car will have been in the garage overnight rather than in direct 97 degree sunshine. In other words the surface temperature of the glass won’t rival molten lava. (B) I won’t have to negotiate with the building guards at work who are only doing there job, but complicating this process anyway.
Should this repair fail to hold I’ll be on the phone to Progressive immediately. It was only at their recommendation and promise “to fight for me” that I went with the 3rd party and not Lexus themselves.
One of the books I’m currently reading is all about the tipping point; that place in the lifetime of a thing where a phase transformation occurs. For example the tipping point between liquid water and ice occurs at 32 degrees Fahrenheit. (I’ve only just started the book so my understanding and example maybe a bit off.) There’s been a tipping point recently in my life it seems.
While the center of my focus for months now has been continuing to cope with Michele’s death combined with preparing for, and now dealing with, my Mom’s death, I have also been inching towards the future. For reasons I’m not going to divulge here, a phase transformation has taken place in my emotional center. The barriers I had erected to keep any thoughts of future relationships at bay have been breached.
I’m not entirely sure how to proceed, but I do know that I’m not going to be happy just sitting inside my cave and moping forever. I’m also a bit hesitant about this new found elation, wondering when it will end, and wondering how far I’ll fall when it does. My emotions have been so low for so long that having anything approaching normal is startling and odd.
Perhaps the oddest part is discovering that I can day-dream about the future without feeling tremendously guilty about leaving Michele further behind. I had a very good talk with her best friend, and one of my best friends, L the other evening, and she assured me that everything I was thinking and feeling was normal. She also assured me that Michele would want me to move on and find new happiness in my life.
As Michele would put it, when you are an anteater you have to go forth and suck ants.
One of the parts about working out in the martial arts that I haven’t missed a bit are the little incidental injuries. Karate-do was wonderful for mystery bruises appearing in places you had no recollection of having been hit. Jammed toes, especially on a competition matted floor were also common. The worst by far were the large blisters that would form working on a wooden floor. It seemed as if a large piece of callus would come off all at once, leaving tender and sometimes torn skin underneath.
Practicing kendo outside on grass adds a certain element to the potential foot dings and dents. No matter carefully the area is policed prior to a workout there always seems to be a rock or acorn in exactly the wrong spot. As I am still learning, and trying to transition the muscle memory of karate-do stances to the kendo stance, my feet are getting beat up. My left foot in particular is in a bad way.
Tonight’s blister is about the size of a quarter and a dime together. I know that it came from torquing my foot from a angled alignment to the straight one it is supposed to maintain. My bad. Also my major owie.
The forced hiatus following my eye surgery on Friday will hopefully give this monster time to heal before I return to the mats, er, lawn.
Today marks the two year anniversary of my employment here in Kansas City. Saying that the past two years have been tumultuous would be a massive understatement. If, as Nietzsche said, “That which does not kill you will only make you stronger”, then I am stronger today than I’ve ever been in my life.
In the last two years I have moved, survived two major staffing reductions on my project, sold a house I loved for a loss, incurred debt that will take me another three years to pay off, lost my mother to lung cancer, and lost my wife to depression. I’ve been battered and beaten down again and again by the vagaries of life, and yet I’m still standing. There is a core of strength in me that hasn’t been tapped out. I’ve heard it said that God never gives you more than you can handle. If that is true, I’d wish he’d stop trusting me so much.
I have no clue what the next two years will bring my way. Heck, I don’t know what this afternoon will bring. I’m still here, and I’m still moving forward, so I guess my journey through this lifetime isn’t over.
A sparkly new and clean windshield was installed today. Unfortunately, it’ll only be new until the first bug impact on the way home.
That is unless I back all the way home.
Several weeks ago I had a followup visit with the optometrist at LasikPlus and he cleared me for the enhancement to my right eye any time I wanted after June 23rd. Since I’ll be unable to drive myself home I needed to coordinate a ride prior to setting the date, so rather than schedule it that day I called in a day or two later and scheduled the corrective surgery for June 29th.
Remembering that I needed some prescription eye drops following the first surgery, I called LasikPlus first thing this morning to have them call the drug store so I’d be all set Thursday. Just a few minutes ago I got call from the vision center informing me that I in fact do not have a surgery scheduled for this Thursday. It seems that when I called to set the appointment back in May, I got their national call center and the idiot there didn’t inform me that I couldn’t schedule a surgery through him. All I had setup was a checkup.
Fortunately there was a hole in the schedule on Friday, the 30th, so my eye will be fixed this week anyway. While the eye care there is top notch, the coordination amongst the staff and the schedules seems to be a bit lacking. Hopefully this correction will bring my right eye into the proper focal range and I’ll be able to rid myself of the temporary glasses and stop having procedures done and redone.