Bark Worse Than Bite

        I went to the dentist's office yesterday to discuss my "treatment options," otherwise known as "What's your credit score?"  I'm not going to say the cost of my upcoming dental work is the same as buying a new car, but maybe a good, used car. A Honda Accord, though; not a Ford Focus.*  The (only) good news is that I won't have to go around with three front teeth missing for any length of time. After a marathon session in the (somewhat less than ergonomic) dentist chair** lasting over half a day, I will have temporary fake teeth that we hope will last long enough to bridge that gap, so to speak, until the permanent fake teeth are ready to be installed. 

        Also, to sort of condition my psyche in advance, before that I will be going to the DMV,  so getting two teeth pulled won't seem so bad. 

*Of course my dental insurance will cough up its customary $37.

** A description of my visit to a chiropractor will be posted subsequently.

Gearhead Aside

        I am much enjoying Paula's James Bond themed April A-Z exercise. In today's post, she writes about the movie, Diamonds are Forever. I admit I have all but forgotten these stories, seen at the movies years and years ago, sometimes seen again on TV. In this case, I even read the paperback. 

       A favorite aside of this story is when it introduces the Studillac, the car belonging to Felix Leiter, the American CIA agent, and friend of Bond's. The Studillac is so named because it was a Studebaker with a Cadillac engine in it. The Cadillac engine, in those days, was a real hot-rod powerplant, and through a fluke, it fit exactly into the Studebaker's engine compartment. 

        The reason for this is that about that time Studebaker acquired an engineer from General Motors who had been previously assigned to GM's Cadillac division. To make his new job a little easier, he designed the Studebaker so the engine would have the exact same mounting points as the Cadillac. Hence, a Cadillac engine would bolt right in with minimal modifications otherwise.  To do so made the Studillac obscenely over-powered and, in fact, a good match for the DB4. 

        As a side note, I once had a '55 Chevy with a Cadillac engine in it. It was, shall we say, NOT elegant, but it did, as we used to say, haul ass. I didn't put it together, myself, but traded for it with cash and a '49 Ford that I had. 

        It broke down a lot, mostly due to being overpowered, and I happily got rid of it by partaking in a Byzantine three-way trade choregraphed by a high school buddy who wanted another guy's motorcycle, who wanted the '55, and I wound up with a '57 Chevy 4-wheel drive pickup truck. It also broke down occasionally, and really didn't get around all that great, for a 4-wheel drive vehicle. 

        Good times. Truly. I wish I was that stupid again, because it was fun. 

A Draft of an Unsubmitted Post

 I don't remember when I wrote this draft. Apparently I got something in my head and started writing until (very shortly thereafter) I ran out of steam. It's all true, though . . . 

Pedestrianism

I started walking as a pastime around the year 2000 when I began working downtown.  We were in a building erected some 30 years earlier, and we speculated that it was erected on an Indian burial ground (OMG YOU ONLY MOVED THE HEADSTONES) and cunningly designed to be not only downtown’s ugliest building but, for you Feng Shui aficionados, a veritable negative C’hi generator. Because of this, all the buildings in a one block radius have subsequently either melted or fallen down or were converted into lofts with exposed brick and concrete floors and windows affording brief, unsatisfying glimpses of what is inarguably North America’s second muddiest river.

As a bonus for the employees, the building was so constructed as to not allow any air in from outside except what might accidentally swirl in through the doorway when someone either entered or left the building. This means, for example, that when in the elevator, which by the way creaked and groaned like a WWII movie submarine taken below its maximum certified depth, one can still smell the cafeteria lunch special from opening day in 1972. (Which I believe was tuna-based.) 

The place made my soul hurt, and the reason I started taking walks outside was just to get out of there. 

A Return to Normalcy

        Since I've been vaccinated and no longer think I'm going to die every time I step foot outside the house, I began taking care of a bunch of delayed things, like my dental appointment (wow, and that was just in time, thanks,) and doctor's appointment, and . . . ugh . . . have to call and set up an appointment with an oral surgeon, plus get the oil changed in my car! We went to two restaurants, now, in a flurry of self-indulgence, one lunch place, and one breakfast place, wherein I consumed a week's worth of carbohydrates. Place called The Homesteader, by the way, with a sort of pioneer theme, all the good eats just like the pioneers had, like lots of eggs and lots of butter, and fatty meats, thick slices of wholesome toast, 'taters, you know, like back-to-basics, good ol' real 'merican food, which explains why the life expectancy in the old days was about thirty.  

        So the question is more like, die of what? 

        The doctor reports that I am alive. I may even outlive my car, especially if I don't get the oil changed pretty soon. 

        

March

         I note that March came "in like a lamb" and is going "out like a slightly colder lamb." (In both cases, the day was sunny, with a high of 55 and a low somewhere around freezing.)  But the old wives have nothing on the Catholic Church, which mandates the date of Easter as the first Sunday after the first full moon that occurs on or after the vernal equinox. I actually didn't know this until a couple of days ago. I always heard that the church fixed these holidays to coincide with other pre-existing Pagan holidays, so as to nudge their own popularity along, but I had no idea of this very deliberate calculation.

        Then, in a nod to the modern era, the Church decided the equinox was such a moving target that it would stop the sun, as it were, and declare the equinox, for this purpose, to always be March 21st. At this point, I would humbly suggest they make Easter a "Monday holiday." 

    Just thinking out loud, here.

It's That Time Again

         It's April 1st--April Fools Day--and all Internet media outlets will, for this one day only, publish just factual information concerning near-misses involving comets, asteroids, or any SSSBs (Small Solar System Bodies.) While it is hoped that this will not adversely affect anything, scientists worry that emboldened dinosaurs will briefly come out of hiding and step on cars and stuff. This has already happened in several cities in Japan, situations aggravated by the fact that communication between various agencies is hampered by the speakers' lips not correctly synced with the words coming out of their mouths. 

        All other articles and their attendant headlines will continue to be outrageously erroneous and provocative because, well, it's just too much fun. 

        Tomorrow is another day. 

V-Day Part Deux

         Almost miraculously, my sinuses did not act up all morning, so I did not sneeze at the vaccination place and cause a panic. I have returned home and await the side effects. 

        Once again, I applaud the Jackson County, Missouri, Health Department for their excellent implementation. 

Yeah, I know.  Everyone knows my last name.