It's the little things in life

Dudes...John Hiatt just played at my office. It's days like these when I really like my job. What other place can you get up from your desk, watch a living legend play 5 songs and then just go back to work? My phone is horrible for pictures, but he looks pretty good, huh?





And just in case you don't know who John Hiatt is...he sang/wrote many many songs that you know...you just never heard his name. For example;

Brokedown Palace

This Link was on my Google Hompage today under "How to of the Day."

Fitting, huh?

I need some serious fun this weekend.



Picture from marriedtothesea.com

My Buddy and Me

It seems as though owning my very own Stella was just not in the cards for me.

It started when I got to the dealer Saturday morning. I arrived 15 minutes before they were open and immediately began drooling over my Stella in the garage. She was beautiful. She still needed some cleaning up, but I was anxious. Before we did any paperwork, I asked to ride her to make sure that I would be able to deal with the manual transmission. I figured, I can drive stick in a car, how hard can this be? Turns out, it was really hard.

The guy began by detailing the start up process. Stella is essentially a total replica of the 1960's Vespas, and was made with all of the 1970's technology. In order to start Stella I had to;

a) Turn the key
b) Turn the Gas knob to "on"
c) Pull out the choke
d) Pull in the clutch
e) Give her gas (but not too much or too little)
f) Push the start button
g) Let her idle for a few minutes to warm up, paying close attention to the sound she makes - give her a little gas until it sounds right.

Basically, right off the bat, Stella was a temperamental little bitch. This was strike #1. Still, mesmerized by her beauty, I was convinced that I could learn to do this. I would just get used to it. She was worth it.

The guy showed me how to get her into first gear and I hopped on. I pulled in the clutch and switched her into first gear. I let up on the clutch and gave her a little gas. Stella hopped lurched forward about 10 feet and died. This was strike #2. I felt like an idiot, but maintained that I wanted this scooter and tried again. Again, I lurched forward, but the salesman said that was normal. "She gets moving pretty fast," he said. I was off - I headed down the road on my test drive, jerkily shifting gears and contemplating whether so much beauty was worth so much trouble. Stella was nothing like the Scooters I rode in Scooter school. Would I be able to get used to her?

I got the answer to my question at the next stop. Being new to Stella's pain in the ass mechanisms meant I was a little slow about the stop to start procedure. The driver behind me honked. Startled, I accidentally hit the foot brake (back wheel) just as I was giving Stella gas. She reared up in protest and I ended up in a position that could only be described as a pretty sweet "wheelie." I'm guessing it was a glorious sight to behold because everyone was watching me intently from their yards and homes. Panic set in and I reached for the kill switch, accidentally giving the Scooter more throttle as I tried to maintain some control. Stella lurched forward and I fell to my knees as the bike flew upwards and forwards through the intersection (it was residential) landing hard on the other side of the street. Strike #3.

I had crashed the scooter on the fucking test drive. I wish I had pictures to show you the damage, but you will just have to trust me when I tell you that I messed her up bad. I checked myself for damages first, I was fine. I scraped my knee up a bit, but it was the bike that I was concerned about. I picked Stella up off the street and got her started again. Luckily, she was still running and I took her back to the shop, embarrassed and feeling terrible about ruining a brand new scooter (a stupid bitch of a scooter, but still a brand new scooter).

Feeling horrible, I hung my head as the salesman assessed the damages I had inflicted on his beautiful merchandise. He touched the bumper (which had been re-located about 8 inches higher from where it was before I took off). First thing out of his mouth? "I have never seen anything like this before." Somehow, I managed to wreck the bike to the point where it shocked a person who has been selling and working on Scooters his whole life. This man has seen scooters after they have been hit by cars - and I managed to shock him.

When I do something stupid, apparently I do it with gusto. Need something ruined? I am available for children's birthday parties and bar mitzvahs.

The guy ended up being really great about the whole thing. He was more concerned about whether or not I was hurt than the condition of the bike and he ended up making me feel a little better about the whole incident. I offered to pay their $500 insurance deductible - and he accepted. I know I didn't have to, but it was the right thing to do. He even helped me pick out a scooter that was more my speed and let me take it on a test drive. He is a brave man.

I returned scooter #2 without incident and decided to go with a friendlier bike since Stella and I obviously just did not get along. Internet, meet my new "Buddy" Scooter.



I'm having it delivered. Somehow, I felt that I was maybe not quite ready to ride with the big boys yet. I'm going to practice near my apartment and maybe someday I can work my way up to something more temperamental. In a way, I think that the accident was a good thing. I was really determined to get the Stella and figure out how to ride her later. I was a bit over-confident and the results could have been a lot worse. The lesson may have cost me $500, but it was well worth it. Besides, the Buddy was super-affordable and even with my $500 "oops," I saved $800 overall by not getting the Stella.

By the way, I am taking applications for my Scooter gang. The accident obviously gives me extra "street cred," right? You wanna join?

For the cat people

Hey Stella!

I passed my Motorcycle permit test this morning and have scooter class tomorrow. It's excellent timing because...

Stella is here!!!

I just got the call from Steve at True Imports and I will be able to pick her up on Saturday! He says she is beautiful & I cannot wait!

Bet you can't guess what I will be doing this weekend!

I'm going to be screaming like Brando until Saturday at 10am.

Anticipation

Me: If my new roommate has a Harley and we go riding together, am I going to look like a total lamewad on my scooter?

Friend: I don't know if "lamewad" applies so much as "Chach"

Me: What if I ride up on a motorcycle gang? Do you think they would let me join, or will I have to form my own scooter gang of hoodlums and debauchery?

Friend: I don't know if the words "Scooter" and "Debauchery" should ever be in the same sentence. Ever.

Me: Well, not until now, anyway. I'm going to single-handedly make scooters hardcore.

Friend: How is that possible? You are so not hardcore.

Me: That hurts, man. I am wicked-crazy hardcore. I mean, just last night, I totally threw caution to the wind and drank a regular Coke instead of a Diet Coke. You scared?

Friend: Trembling. How are you not in prison?

Me: I have a lot of practice running from the law. Outlaw for Life. Oooooh, I am totally putting that on the back of my Gang's leather jackets.

Friend: Do Scooter riders wear leather?

Me: Good Point. What about on the back of a windbreaker?

Friend: Or a cardigan!

Me: I could crotchet our outfits!

Friend: You are such a loser.

Me: You love it.

Sadie - The details

Sadie was the kind of dog that could make you smile whether you wanted to or not. She had a ton of energy and would climb all over you, licking any bit of exposed skin that she could find. She was the happiest dog you could ever meet. She didn’t have a mean bone in her whole body.

Sadie wasn’t conventionally beautiful. She had a smooshy pug face and her tounge would hang out as if it didn’t fit in her mouth. Thing is, you didn’t have to look at her long to fall in love.

She was content when she could lay on my mother’s lap with one of her toys stuffed into her little mouth. She would look up with her big ole eyes and melt your heart in a way that no other dog could ever do.

On Monday, May 12, 2008 my Mother took Sadie in to have a surgery that was supposed to open up her air passages to make it easier for Sadie to breathe. This sort of surgery is fairly standard for pugs, and my Mother chose a specialist in her area.

On Tuesday, my Mother took the day off work to pick up her dog. When she arrived, Sadie was still really “out of it” and didn’t even act excited to see my Mother, which is highly out of character. The vet assured my mother that Sadie’s condition was normal and that she may act strange for a few days as she recovered. Taking their instruction, my Mom returned home with her dog and kept vigilant watch over her best friend.

Sadie continued to be extremely lethargic and was vomiting often. Concerned, my Mother called the Vet Clinic several times (once at 3:00 in the morning) expressing extreme concern for her dog’s condition. Tuesday night, my mother barely slept, worried that there was something wrong. The vet continued to encourage my mother to hang tight – she would pull through. They said vomiting was normal and that she should not worry about Sadie’s extreme lethargy. They told her that all of it was normal recovery for the procedure.

Leaving Sadie for the FIRST TIME since picking her up from surgery, my Mother went to a meeting at her place of employment. She was gone for 2 hours. Upon return, Sadie was dead.

My mother is devastated. She feels responsible as though if she had not gone to work, Sadie would still be alive. She feels like if she would have trusted her intuition and FORCED the clinic to look at her regardless of what they said, Sadie would still be alive. She feels like if she had never taken Sadie to get the surgery, she would still be alive. She feels like she paid $2,500 for a vet to kill her dog.

I know that none of this is my Mother’s fault, but she is understandably feeling responsible. I told her that Sadie was lucky to have her as a doggie mom and that she did everything she could do. It makes me sick that she made so many concerned calls to a clinic that ignored her pleas. If they would have told her even one time to bring Sadie in, my Mother would have been there in a second.

I blame the clinic and I am fucking furious. I will be damned if they take my Mother’s money after being so negligent. People pay good money for specialists in order to rely on their expertise. These people dropped the ball and I am so angry…and sad. My mother doesn’t deserve this. Sadie didn’t deserve this. Hell, Mojo doesn’t deserve this either ( I brought him over to keep my Mom company last night and we both bawled as he looked for Sadie).

She was a good dog. I’m going to miss her.