Mike

The Miata and Me

I apologize for not posting much in the last month or two.  Some of you know why.

Friday was the first time I’d driven the Miata farther than along the back roads in West Ashley.  Justine would probably tell me that I’m showing my age if I say the word “hoot” but driving it to Kentucky and back was a hoot.  I’m glad that I paid extra for the optional suspension package because the Miata hugged the road while I drove the steep, twisty part of I-40 in the Smokies between North Carolina and Tennessee (well over the posted speed limit) and the steep, twisty part of I-75 in the Appalachians between Tennessee and Kentucky.

I’d mentioned before I left that I hoped it wouldn’t rain along the way.  Well, it’s July and the Southeast so pop-up showers are a fact of life.  If you’ve ever driven a two-seater at speed with the top down you know that as long as the rain is light it doesn’t land in the seat with you.  It blows over.  It’s only when it comes down in buckets that you have to stop and put the top up.  That happened somewhere in the Upstate.  Fortunately we were seconds away from an exit.  A great thing about the Miata’s retractable hardtop is that you can put it up, and down, in 10 seconds.  I know because I timed it.  The rain stopped about 15 minutes later so when we stopped in Asheville for gas we put the top down and didn’t put it up again until we parked it at my sister’s house. The same thing happened on the drive back.  We were almost to the first Asheville exit when all hell broke loose.  We needed gas anyway so it came at a convenient time.  We stopped at the SC Welcome Center a few miles later and put the top down again.

Speaking of gas, when I bought the Miata the sticker on the window said 30 mpg highway/24 city.  I’ve yet to check the mileage in town but I did whenever we stopped for gas this weekend.  The numbers were 30, 30, and 29.  When I filled it up this morning it was again 30.  Yes, automakers make cars that get better mileage but I bet they aren’t as fun to drive.

Some random observations:  I worried that my ankle wouldn’t be up to the 550 mile drive to Kentucky but it never complained and, in fact, it felt better at the end of the drive than it did at the start.  Evidently all it needed was the exercise.  Now the rest of my body says that it needs exercise, too.  What have I started?

Even though the Miata has a retractable hard top that tucks into the body, it has a surprisingly large trunk.  It’s not huge but it’s large enough to hold two weekend-sized bags plus a number of things that Jo Ann wanted me to take back to Charleston.

As mid-life crises go (or in my case, late mid-life crisis) the Miata doesn’t make the top 10 but since hot twenty-somethings no longer look at me and wonder how big my bank account is I’m willing to settle for driving down the Interstate with music blaring.  Speaking of which, I’m driving back to Kentucky soon so I have time to pirate and burn my favorite driving songs and those that commenters and trackbackers suggested.  I’ve added a few more to my list:  AC/DC’s Highway to Hell, Sammy Haggar’s I Can’t Drive 55, Wall of Voodoo’s Mexican Radio, Allman Brothers’ Midnight Rider, and Bob Seger’s Turn the Page (although the Metallica cover works, too.)  This is your latest chance to chime in with your suggestions.  For the record, I prefer driving songs that are about driving.  (BTW Allan, you never sent me your driving mix CD.)

Update:   Soon came sooner than I expected so I haven't had time to burn a CD.  Don't let that stop you from making suggestions.  I own about 200 salsa CDs (don't ask) so I'll listen to some of them instead.  I'll post again after I get to Kentucky.

I hope it doesn't rain

Justine and I are going to hop in the Miata today, put the top down, and drive to Kentucky to see my sister.  We'll be back next week.  Play nice while we're gone.

Dead Cat

Psycho scared the crap out of me when I found him stretched out on the ground between my house and Ms. Hilda's.  It turns out that he was just sleeping.  I asked him why he was sleeping in the muddiest part of the yard and, like a cat, he got up and walked away without explaning.

Bob Vila I ain't

Home improvement projects (no matter how small) and I don’t mix.  Sure, the instructions say, “Easy to install” but they should say, “Easy to install unless you are Mike.”  Over the years I’ve replace many kitchen and bathroom faucets and done it within the 15 minutes the instructions say it should take, but then I spend hours trying to figure out why water is leaking from everywhere.

Today’s project was to replace the knob/lock and dead bolt on the front door.  No, not because the ex- still has keys.  She never lived here.  I only got one key to the place at closing four years ago and it’s become so worn that it’s now a crap shoot whether or not I can get into the house.  Copies of the key are just as bad, as Justine knows.  Lately I’ve had to leave the door unlocked when I go to bed so that when she gets home at 3, 4, or 5 AM she doesn’t have to call me on her cell phone and ask me to come downstairs to let her in.

I got the old knob out and the new one in without a problem.  It, and the key, worked great.  At that point I got cocky.  Since cocky isn’t a good look on me so I should have known to duck and cover.

I got the old dead bolt out and the new one in without a problem either.  And like the knob, it and the key worked.  That is until I closed the door.  Try as I might, I can’t get the dead bolt to slide into the existing hole in the door jamb.  I took a pencil and drew faint marks on the jamb to show me where the hole is and everything looks like it lines up perfectly, except that it doesn’t.

Since Justine doesn’t have the new key I’ll have to keep the door unlocked tonight.  That means that I have all day tomorrow to figure out what the problem is and screw things up even more than I already have.

A Twofer

I'd like to tell you that Psycho was defending his turf but yawns are contagious and I yawned first waiting for a great shot.

Champ woke me up at 6:30 this morning and acted like he wanted me to take him outside to pee.   It turned out that all he wanted was for me to get out of the bed so that he could have the warm spot.  He was too ashamed to look at the camera, but he didn't move.

*Spoiler Alert*

I finally watched the last episode of the Sopranos.  (The tape had to circulate among family and friends in Kentucky before my sister mailed it to me.)  I don't know what the fuss was all about.  Either the producers and writers had no idea how to end the show or they were setting us up for a movie sequel.  Think about it.  Sil may be in a coma but he's still alive.  Paulie is having doubts.  So far nobody has killed Janice (and as we say in the South, she needs killin').  The guy in the diner is still in the restroom and Meadow may, or may not, have walked in the door. Even I could write the script.

Sun up. Top down.

Recently I've only driven the Miata for short distances and then only to see if my ailing left foot could handle the clutch. When I tried again today I noticed that the Miata was running on empty so I drove over to the West Ashley WalMart to fill it up.  Leaving the WalMart I had a choice.  Turn right onto Bees Ferry and take the short way home, or turn left and eventually find my way home.  Guess which way I went.

Rinse and Repeat

As Isaac was taking his and Briar's bags out to my truck Sunday evening before I was to drive them to the airport Champ managed to squeeze by him and get out of the front door.  (My fault.  I should have had a hold on Champ's collar.)  Champ, FUDs - you already know what came next.  The FUDs flew into the lake followed closely by Champ.  It was pouring down rain at the time and the four of us got soaked trying to lure him home again.  Champ thought it was great fun.  As soon as any of us got close he hopped back into the lake.  Since the clock was ticking I tossed my keys to Justine and told her to drive Briar and Isaac to the airport.  Meanwhile I went back in the house, grabbed a bag of Pup-peronis, and managed to lure Champ close enough so that I could hook a leash to his collar.  Like the last time, I had to strip down and lift him into the tub for a much needed shampoo.

Catching up

Has it been that long since I posted something?

Briar and Isaac were in town from New York over the weekend.  We took time Sunday afternoon to go downtown with Justine and act like tourists.

In case you forgot, I'm the old fart.  BTW, how do you like the new 'do?  I went in for a haircut two weeks ago and in a moment of insanity said, "#2 clippers all over, please".  That's the shortest my hair has been since I was in boot camp at Great Lakes Naval Training Center in late 1970.

Isaac said that it makes me look younger but since he's living with my oldest daughter I don't know whether to believe him or not.  LOL.