Quitting Time Booster Shot


Welcome to the QTBS, The Birthday Boy Edition…

– It’s my
birthday this week and that has led to reflection. In dog years, I’m
dead. Personality-wise, I’m a crusty 75 or whatever Clint Eastwood was
in Gran Torino, minus the racism. Maturity-wise, I’m 12. My body feels
like it’s 112 after sanding furniture in the garage for an hour. In
dealing with the college kids, I feel like I must be old enough to have
double-dated with George Washington. When surrounded by other adults, I
feel like I’m 18. Actual age, well, let’s put it this way: I’m probably
making the turn for the back nine holes.

– My man-cred took a
serious hit this week. I might have noted somewhere along the way that
I spent a good portion of high school and college working as an
apprentice mechanic, so I like to think I can deal with cars on some
level. At least, I know enough not to get screwed. In any case, the
“service engine soon” light came on in the truck after an extended
drive, so I was a bit concerned. I took it to the local garage,
figuring on this being a huge bill, as there’s a lot that can go wrong
after 110,000 miles. The guy hooked it up to the computer and found
that the engine code noted a massive evaporation leak. He opened the
gas hatch and found I’d left the cap off the tank. He put it on and ran
the program again and the light went off. All it cost me for that was
$35 labor and a great deal of pride.

– I redeemed myself yesterday by heading out to a place called “Wally’s U-Pull It”
and digging through a junkyard for repair parts. The Civic has had a
crack in the power steering fluid reservoir for about a year or two and
I finally got around to calling repair shops. They wanted $120 for the
part plus $70 for labor. The good folks at Wally’s had two junked
Civics and if I were willing to walk the lot and pull my own
replacement part, I could have it for $10. Twenty minutes after I got
home, I fixed the car, good as new. Man-cred restored. All I need is a
T-shirt that says “I pulled my own part at Wally’s” I wonder why they
don’t sell those…

– From the “I am Ted FUCKING Williams
file: Apparently Jim Bunning is still throwing that little shit slider
of his, only this time, he’s throwing it to the press. He decided the
Courier-Journal’s reporter can’t get in on his weekly press call
because he has an “agenda.” You mean because he asks questions you
don’t like to answer? Is that what’s passing for an agenda these days?

If ever a post typified why Ms. A hates the “y’know what you guys
should do” culture of academic toadies and pseudo-intellectual
journalists, this has to be it.

– From the “Happy Mother’s Day!” department…

It’s gotta be the shoes…It’s
also nice to know that Katie’s cool with having a hermaphrodite
following. Just in case any hermaphrodites are out there and were
wondering, “Would Katie be upset if she knew I and my two sets of
goodies were watching her tonight?” you can relax now. Katie’s cool
with you…

Apparently this is to give them time to line up Dane Cook to edit the next issue…

– Then there’s this story
on how Zicam apparently has damaged the sense of smell of some of its
users. I used the stuff for a cold and judging by the Missus’ reaction
after I pass gas that doesn’t seem bad to me, I might be in line for a

– And finally, a Happy Father’s Day to all the dads
out there. For Mother’s Day this year, we all got dressed up for a
fancy dinner, bought the ladies flowers that cost more than my running
shoes, found tasteful gifts and enjoyed $12 cocktails. For Father’s
Day? The Missus and Mom will be out of town, Dad and I have the Midget
and we’re planning to go to a giant outdoor flea market. Totally
perfect… I hope you’re able to enjoy a day with dads or kids like I
will be.

Thanks for letting me share your air. Be back next week.


4 thoughts on “Quitting Time Booster Shot

  1. He put it on and ran the program again and the light went off. All it cost me for that was $35 labor and a great deal of pride.
    Just saying, I don’t charge my customers for that service. You got off easy. A lot of guys here (NY Metro area) charge $75 just to hook up the scanner.
    And by the way, don’t let it get ya down. 30 years ago, I could tell you what was wrong with a car as it drove by at 40 mph. Today, if I can’t look at how it’s thinking, I haven’t clue.

  2. cars have no charm if you open it and it’s a rubiks cube.
    i shall have fond thought on growing up with grandpa’s + uncles. my paternal unit gets nothing for nothing.

  3. oh, doc. many blessings on your camels, and give your inner car guy a hug for me.

  4. I’m one of the fortunate few who has a fantastic dad. Quiet, soft-spoken, hard working and above all – honorable.
    He has a set of rules that no one can argue. He never dictated them, just laid them out and stuck by them. Reasonable and fair, but if you break a rule, you pay the price. Whine, snivel, pull any excuse from any orifice – no good. I spent my Junior Prom at home watching Lawrence Welk ’cause I got caught buying beer at the Eastside Tavern.
    He spent 50 years logging just so I could fart-fuck around in college. At least I have some siblings that took better advantage of that sacrifice. Now, he reads western novels and grows a garden that could feed an army. He’s 78 years old and looks better than me at 50. Can still fall a 60 foot fir tree in his sleep.
    Have a great Father’s Day, Doc and all the dads out there.
    It only takes one sperm to be a father, but it takes a man to be a dad.

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