Sunday

Giving up a few lines this evening to celebrate the first day of September.  In my world, September is the beginning of Fall. 

I would have felt much better about the football game yesterday if it had at least been in the month of September.  Not that the calendar would have assuaged the dismay of the game's unfortunate result.  (It didn't help the 'Clones either.)

Really enjoyed the DeWitt ride this morning with my good friend @bcbison.  I still can't keep up with him, but he always waits for me at the top of the hill, and lets up on the gas when he knows I need a break.  The waitress at the Sunrise has figured out that my preference for my eggs is "basted", as opposed to over-easy or over-medium.  Good information for the future.

Then there was a little unanticipated excitement with the BEATER this afternoon when I set out to complete a few errands.  In addition to a few standard household provisions, I figured that I could make the effort today to knock off a couple of tasks for Italy, namely, new memory cards for the two mini-digi's that I plan to take on the trip, and a pair of good walking shoes.  When I fired up the car after getting the household goods and memory cards at Wally World, there was that sick, sputtering sound as the engine started.  This being the same sound from an engine that wouldn't start earlier this week.

Rather than go straight home and let the BEATER rest in her spot in the driveway, I elected to make the fatal "one more stop".  Bad move.  Of course.  When I came out of the shoe store with my rockin' new Rockports, the BEATER was dead.  Of course.  Long story short...the BEATER is still in the mini-mall parking lot.  If history repeats itself, it should start tomorrow.  And she'll go directly to the repair shop...where the mechanic will say, "Starter or alternator.  $350, please."  Whatever.

The experience gave me pause to recall the #automotivefail experiences in my life time.  A partial list:

1.  That overnight South of Chicago with the original Margret.  Circa 1969.  Electrical failure.
2.  A Buick total-system fail near Brooklyn, Iowa on our way back from skiing in Colorado.  Circa 1972.  Uncle Doyle to the rescue in the bitter cold and snow.
3.  @srh4's Ford Maverick blowing an engine on my way from Chicago to Davenport in 1980 to start my new job in Davenport.  In the middle of I-88.  @srh4's Uncle to the rescue.
4.  My Chevy Blazer not starting one morning in Des Moines while staying with my friend Jake's Pants.  It took some calls to my local dealer who then made a call to DM dealer who brought a tow and fixed it that morning.  It pays to have friends in high places.
5.  The circa 1978 (and very forgettable) "dropped the keys through a sewer grate" when @srh4 and I were furniture shopping one weekend near Woodfield Mall, a few miles from our house.  We walked home.
6.  Drove my high-school car till it stopped, not that far from the farm.  Outta oil.  I walked home from that one too.  Grandpa not happy.
7.  The BEATER actually cracked-up a few years ago at the Davenport private airport on the night that we got back on my pal Roy's plane from the January golf trip.  Bitter cold. Front springs literally broke apart.  Fortunately, my pal Ron hadn't left the parking lot.
8.  There's gotta be others.  Running out of gas not counting.

Here's a question:  What causes the most heartache in life?  Cars?  Airplanes?  Technology?

And an even deeper point, if we all deal with these bumps in the road all the time, does anyone really have a smooth path through it all?  Hint...the anwser is not yes.

Okay.  I need to get some rest.  Golf tomorrow with my pals Ron and Cal.  It may be my last round of the year.

Enjoy the holiday!

BCOT