A funny thing happened...

A funny thing happened yesterday on my way to Target...

It all really began a week ago with the purchase of our new 08' Scion xD. Due to the rising gas prices and lack of use, my wife and I decided to trade in our gas guzzling 04' Toyota Tundra double-cab for the Scion xD, which I was immediately sold on after the test drive at Torrance Toyota.

I was initally going to settle for an 08' Toyota Corolla SE, but thanks to the game-playing, sneaky little schmuck salesman at South-Bay Toyota I decided to "put my bats in the bag" and take my business elsewhere.

Thank-you Mr. Schmuck for pissing me off! You led me in the right direction, and I now own a car I really love.

It definitely does not have the room the truck had, but it makes up for the room in its monthly payment and fuel economy, not to mention the kick-ass Pioneer stereo system. Many of the car reviews bagged on its looks and "road noise," but for the price you get a lot of features only found on much pricier vehicles.

It's not a Land Rover or Mercedes, but I am extremely happy with it and that is all that counts.

On to my story...

With this new car came a new type of instrument cluster. Instead of having the standard needle and four quadrant gas gauge, it has a linear set of little boxes that disappear as the gas is depleted.

It is also located to the LEFT of the steering wheel. Most gauges in other vehicles are generally located to the right of the wheel.

You see where this is going, right?

After a trip to Traveltown with my son, his cousin, my wife and Mother-in-law, We decided to make a stop at Target after dropping off my cousin.

Well, as we were sitting at a light getting ready to make a left turn in front of the Target store, the engine suddenly spuddered and quit.

I immediately started having flashbacks to a similar situation many years ago when my parents had purchased a new Chevy Vega hatchback that did that exact same thing. After several hours on the phone my father ened up making the dealership come and pick up the car out of the driveway, exclaiming to the tow truck driver to tell the dealership to "take this piece of shit lemon and stuff it up their ass!"

But thankfully my issue was not due to a lemon, but rather my lack of observation.

After my ptsd flashback my second instinct was to look down at the digital gas gauge.

Yep, I was out of gas.

Thankfully I had my wife and mother-in-law with me who, without asking, immediately got out and helped push it into the parking lot amidst the angry honking and happy screams of my son who was enjoying every minute of it.

Once we were able to "park" the car, the embarassment set in as my wife and mother in law stood there histerically laughing.

I eventually laughed too.

This is one time I am thankful we live in a big city with a Target store that carries gas cans, and a gas station within walking distance.

After some leasurely shopping and a 30 minute walk, all was well again.

So the moral of the story is- if you buy a new car, always pay attention to the gas gauge.

I will have pics to follow.

The "Informal" economy

"Fredo, you're my older brother, and I love you...but don't ever take sides against the family again."- The Godfather Part 1

This evening Joy is watching The Godfather series for the Tenth time. Every so often I peak over and watch it too.

I am supposed to be working on one of my finals, but one needs to take a Godfather break now and then.

Yes,it's addicting.

Speaking of finals, one of the lectures given addressed the "Informal" part of the economy. One aspect discussed was organized crime. So, in all relativity it applies to my class.

Yea...right.

Another "informal" aspect we discussed in detail was the Domestic Workers here in the United States, and the dynamics driving them. Not exactly in the same sub-category as organized crime, but is still a sizable contender in the US economy.

Driving throughout West LA and Brentwood in the early morning hours, one may often see clusters of Latino women of varying ages waiting at the many bus stops along the way. One of my co-workers who rides the bus says many, if not most of them are domestic workers on their way to clean the homes of the affluent.

I never really though much about these domestic workers until I read the book "Domesticas" by Pierrette Hondagneu-Sotelo. It gives a clear and concise picture of this unseen but complex aspect of our economy. To even get a better understanding of their migration dynamics,(why they come to the US) one needs to understand the history of US foreign policy (NAFTA, CAFTA, government influence, etc...)and its affect on their countries of origin.

While a extremely small number of them may come for the free social services, it is not the predominant driving factor for the majority.

Once Reed is old enough, I will try to explain all of this to him, so he has an understanding that there are two side to every coin.

Hopefully I can do it without boring him to death.

Then I just may let him watch The Godfather...

A New Halloween

Forgive me father, it's been almost two months since my last blog...

Yes, I know, if you really want to do something bad enough, you will make the time.

Bla, bla, bla...

I am normally not really big on Halloween, but this year things have changed. After witnessing my son on his first journey around the block, I now have a new soft spot for the little ghouls, goblins, animals, fairies, vampires and hookers roaming our neighborhoods on this very special night.

Joy and I had dressed Reed up in a pretty fancy lion costume she had picked up at one of our regularly frequented second-hand childrens clothing shops. It had a full head, big, bushy mane and long tail complete with the little tuft of hair on the end.

While standing at each of the doors he and his cousins dared to brave, he seemed both confused and amazed as he watched each respective owner place the wrapped globs of sugar in each of the bags.

He also seemed to wonder why we kept going to different houses and would never go in. But in his determined little way, he tried to enter a few anyway.

That paled in comparison to what happed at one of the first few doors we knocked on. As we were leaving the second house of the night, Reed suddenly turned around to the owner, gave a half-wave, and said "Bye, Bye."

Needless to say all the adults stood there in amazement. That was the first time we had ever heard him say it.

And to make things even more special, it was his aunt Leung's first time experiencing Halloween also.

Opossums and ashes

I knew what had happened before I even looked out the door. Joy went out to feed Bridget and Raquel, then let out a shriek as she went around the corner.

Bridget took out another opossum. That damn dog...

She kills them every time unless I am home to run intercept. In the past I have managed to save two of these flea ridden, rat-like marsupials from that damn dog's demise, but not this time.

Great. Now fric and frac have the fleas. I just gave them their monthly dose of Frontline the other day, so hopefully it does it's job.

Normally I just bag up the dead opossum for the trash, but this particular one turned out to be a little more complicated. As I approached the carcass, I noticed a little set of legs trying to get back into the mother's pouch. She was definitely dead, but two of the approximately 8-9 babies were still alive.

I proceeded to remove the two live ones, placed them into a plastic box with a few blankets, then put them under an incandescent lamp to keep them warm.

Now what...

There are several websites that tell you how to care for the little ones, but as young as these were (their eyes weren't open yet) they recommended sending them to a rescue group for the proper care. Apparently at this age they stay attached to the nipple 24/7 until they open their eyes, then eventually venture out of the pouch.

All of the sites said to try pedialite to keep them hydrated until you could get them to someone. We just happen to have some pedialite hanging around.

At first, they weren't receptive to it, but started to take it a few hours later.

Trying to get through to a rescue group on Friday at 5:00 p.m. is next to impossible.
I guess animals do not need to be rescued after 4:00 p.m. on Friday.

After making a half dozen phone calls, one lady from Orange County did call me back, and referred me to a couple of local groups that deal with opossums.

Nothing but answering machines.

Even though we did not want to do it, we eventually called animal control. I knew if they took the babies, they wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell...but we ran out of options.

Approximately three hours later, Animal control was knocking at the door.

Via Con Dios little ones..I tried.

Today we received Sheba's ashes in a small, white plastic box with her info on it and date of death. It was done right here in Gardena by Pet Haven Cemetery and Crematory. I just happen to be looking at their website when the knock came at the door.

Once again I feel like crap.

It's good to have you home again Sheba.

Scary Contractor

One of my co-workers showed me a copy of an estimate she received from a contractor for a remodel of both her bathrooms. I have left the names out for legal reasons, but I will tell you he is operating out in the valley. (Click on the picture to see it better)


"Bat Tub?"

My co-worker did not mention anything about wanting a Batman theme in her bathroom...

Or, maybe she wanted a "Twoalet-zone" theme...

Oh, I forgot to mention his license has been expired for the past 4 years.

The sad thing is there are hundreds of these clowns here in the general LA area running around bilking people out of their hard-earned money every day.

The only way to beat them is to do your homework before hiring someone.

Although this bonehead's spelling is a dead giveaway.

"Good grief Charlie Brown!"

Time marches on...

I can't believe that Reed's first birthday is just around the corner! It seems like was yesterday I was sitting in the O.R. with Joy when they pulled out our slimy little bundle of love. Now all of the sudden he's 22 pounds and just about ready to walk.
Man, where does the time go?
The most incredible part of this journey so far has been watching him change as the days go by. He is standing on his own now and will take a few steps, but not quite full-on walking yet.

His personality is also rapidly developing...tantrums and all!


Maybe his teeth will come in at the same time he starts walking. But if they don't that's o.k. too. They will be here sooner or later. All in good time.

I wish Joel could have been here to see all of this.

As far as Sheba goes,I have reached the acceptance part of the grieving. There will always be a part of me that misses that nasty, old cat, but it gets easier to deal with as the days go by.

Boy, was she a bitch when she was younger! If anyone other than Joy or myself tried to get near her, they would risk loosing a finger, or a limb. Sometimes she would just go after someone for no reason whatsoever.

I remember a time when one of Joy's friends was sitting on the couch, and Sheba crept up behind her, growled, then smacked her multiple times in the back of her head...Thank God she was de-clawed.

I got a good laugh out of that one!

Tomorrow Joy goes to pick up her ashes. We have also ordered a cat funeral urn from Venice Clay to put the ashes in.



And yes, it does come with a lid.

One is never prepared for death

August 14th 2007 is going on the books as one of the saddest days of my life.

I was off work on Monday the 13th and had noticed that Sheba, our 17.5 year-old cat, was losing huge amounts of hair off her back. She was also steadily losing weight and getting more lethargic by the day. She did appear to be eating, but not as much as usual.
It was obvious that something wasn't right, so I called my wife and she made an appointment with the vet.
To make a long story short, The vet ran some lab tests and observed her overnight. The labs came back and indicated severe liver damage.
I asked the vet if he could be more specific about the cause of the damage, but said he really couldn't tell at this point. He did say that she was responding to the IV fluids that they were giving her.

That all changed after she vomited up all the food they gave her in the afternoon.

After multiple phone calls and consulting the vet, we had decided the ethical thing to do would be to put her down.

There have been many days I thought about the inevitable with her, but felt that I would be ready when the day arrived.
No chance.
When I received a phone call from my sobbing wife asking if I wanted her ashes, I broke down crying like I had never done before. It was at that point reality smaked me in the face. This creature we have brought into our home and have shared 17+ years of good times with, will be gone forever.

Today she is gone. And it hurts like hell.

They say time heals all things, but sometimes I have to wonder.

Yes, at times she was a little pain in the ass, but we loved her none the less.

Some people say that it's rediculous to mourn over an animal. But what I think they fail to realize is that we mourn over the relationship that has been lost, along with the spot in our heart.