Typical Day on the Road
December 2006
< - November - December - January 07 - >
Dec. 1
Back once again to our old stomping grounds in the S.F. Bay Area. Specifically, we were in Fremont, where we stopped at the first Fry's electronics store we've seen in a while and finally succumbed to the temptation to buy a new camera, as our old one seems to be beyond redemption, even by papal intervention.
After we'd spent a brief time doing Internet work at a Panera, and battling yet another technological logjam in trying to add minutes to Zephyr's cell phone, we put him on a BART train to visit his friend Libby in Vallejo. The train was delayed by about 2 hours, reportedly by debris on the track (we later learned that in fact a train derailed) but he finally made it.
Meanwhile Mom and Dad worked at a party at City Beach, an indoor recreation complex in Fremont featuring volleyball courts, basketball courts and some rather daunting climbing walls.
Dec. 2
Back in Fremont in the morning, and much of the afternoon, to do more Internet work at Panera. We discovered that next door to it is an Indian cinema – Indian as in showing films from India rather than Arizona. The screenings include English subtitles, and it might be fun to catch a flick from Bollywood here sometime.
On to San Jose, which for some strange reason gave us a sense of déjà vu. A brief workout at the YMCA, preceded by swordfighting practice in the parking lot with our new genuine martial arts swords (of which the points have been recently blunted). Then later in the evening, Dennis and Kimberly entertained guests at another party. This time it was at the St. Clair Club, a social circle for wealthy businessmen in existence since 1886. The headquarters is a historic old building with hardwood floors and a fireplace and a distinctive elite cigar-puffing charm.
Dec. 3
A day of Interneting and rehearsing in San Jose.
Dec. 4
More of the same, plus a trip to the YMCA.
Dec. 5
Finally, we did something we've been wanting to do for years: we took a tour of Alcatraz Island. Actually, Kimberly had toured The Rock once before, but it was the first time for Dennis and Zephyr. (Dennis lived in San Francisco for 15 years, but when you live here, you don't have much time to play tourist.)
We started out by parking our vehicle in the Marina parking lot, and as it was still rather early in the morning, we had a dazzling view of the full moon over Golden Gate Bridge. We rode our bikes to Pier 33, where we caught the ferry to the Island. After watching an orientation film, we participated in a ranger program, being conducted "backstage" to an area that the general public doesn't have access to – including the bulky, ungainly machinery originally used to produce energy for the Island by burning oil. This is an ancient apparatus, of course, and has been obsolete for years. We also walked through a tunnel dating back to the days of the military fort here, a tunnel that might have been a potential aid to escape. Many inmates knew about it, but the guards did not! And we saw the laundry room where Al Capone, among others, worked while serving their sentences.
An audio tour was the most detailed illumination we obtained. With earphones that played comments by former prisoners and officials, enhanced by sound effects that helped bring the narration to life, we walked through the library, and down the avenues past the infamous cellblocks, including Cellblock D, where we had the opportunity to step inside a solitary confinement cell, and have the door closed on us by a ranger. It was totally dark inside except for the light from the crack under the door. The metal floor was somewhat springy, and the net result was that we felt rather dizzy in the environment. Imagine having to spend several days here!
On past the communal showers (which supplied only ice-cold water, we hear) and the nearby supply room where clothing and bedding were issued. And then to the site of the deadly riot of 1946, when a few inmates overpowered guards, seized guns and held the prison in a state of siege for 3 days. Three inmates and two guards were killed n the melee, and two more inmates later were executed for their part in it. (But they were not executed at Alcatraz, and neither was anyone else.) Robert Stroud, known as the Birdman of Alcatraz, tried to intervene and stop the carnage. (Contrary to myth, Stroud did not actually tend to any birds at Alcatraz; he earned his nickname when he was at Leavenworth.) You can still see the scars in the floors and walls left by weapons discharged during this conflict.
We also saw the cells from which 3 inmates launched the infamous jailbreak of 1962, the only escape from which the escapees were never apprehended; and it's a matter of debate whether or not they became free men or dead men in the choppy waters of San Francisco Bay. (Although it's another myth that the sharks populating the Bay are man-eaters.) The dummy heads fashioned by these escapees to fool the guards are still in place in the bunks. (NOTE: When Dennis and Kimberly met in San Francisco in 1988, Dennis was working for a company owned by a former Alcatraz guard who also lived on the island for 10 years as a child. His father was an associate warden who served as acting warden for one day when the regular warden was away. And wouldn't you know it, that one day was the day of the legendary escape. )
In the gift shop, we met former inmate Darwin Coon, who was on hand to promote his book. Coon served 14 years (4 of them at Alcatraz) for bank robbery before being paroled in 1972 and going on to become a successful and respectable businessman. We asked him if it gave him the creeps to come back here, and he said no, it was not his first time back. In fact, he has attended a few of the periodic reunions held for former inmates and former guards, who mingle and reminisce like old high school buddies. Someone asked him if he had known about the secret tunnel, and he answered in the affirmative.
Back on the ferry to the mainland, and back to our bicycles at the pier. The picketers who'd been outside the entrance when we came (apparently protesting the use of non-union employees by the ferry company) were gone now. We pedaled along the piers, making the mandatory stop at Pier 39 to stroll through the touristy shops, noting the scarcity of street performers, and laughing about the time during our first year in business when we did a performance here ourselves and had a wedding party amble leisurely through our "stage" in the midst of our show. The sea lions were out in hordes today, as if they too knew it was time to get the Christmas shopping done, and they were especially rambunctious and vociferous.
Back at the RV, we fortified ourselves with hot chocolate, and contemplated taking a late afternoon bike ride across the Golden Gate Bridge, another irresistible feat we've yet to accomplish. But along came the assistant harbormaster and told us that large vehicles like ours were not supposed to park in this lot. We were occupying only two spaces, and if each of us had arrived in a separate vehicle (as many people do), we would have taken up three. But logic is of no use against the mindset that has its mind set against vehicles of "our kind". Even the main parking lot at Fort Mason, the lot in which our guests parked at will when we held our wedding reception here, the lot in which we've parked for the S. F. Fringe Festival, the improv classes, the shaolin classes and so many other activities over the years, now charges a fee for parking; and for those consuming two spaces, the minimum is 50 dollars – yes FIFTY with a five and a zero. The latter is exactly how much they received from us, as, taking the hint, we left the city for the day.
Dec. 6
Spent essentially the entire day at a library in Daly City, doing computer work. Among other things, we had to edit two podcasts – our usual weekly edition, and our entry in round three of the Podcast Pickle competition.
Dec. 7
Essentially a repeat of yesterday, and the librarians must be wondering if we're putting down roots.
Dec. 8
We dropped Zephyr at San Francisco International Airport, which is becoming very familiar territory to him, so he could catch a flight to North Carolina to spend a few days rehearsing and recording with his band. Unlike his last trip out there, his connecting flight (this time in Atlanta rather than Chicago) was on time, so he arrived at a decent hour instead of the wee hours of the morning.
Dec. 9
Newly and temporarily liberated from parenthood, Dennis and Kimberly returned to the Panera in Fremont to do yet more computer work. Today, an upcoming performance scheduled at a school was cancelled when the school suddenly realized that they would have to pay for our services. They'd somehow been under the impression that we worked for free because we are a nonprofit corporation (which some people evidently assume means that we don't have to eat or pay for gas).
This evening, we worked at another party at City Beach in Fremont, and had the opportunity to partake of some of the recreation, including billiards, ping pong and virtual bowling. In the latter game, players rotate a control that has the size, shape and weight of a real bowling ball, to guide a virtual ball through a selected obstacle course to strike the virtual pins. The courses available include the streets of San Francisco, the streets of Tokyo, the ruins of Rome and a jungle. These settings are all stylized, futuristic versions of the real thing, and afford plenty of opportunities for dodging traffic, avoiding cliffs, and negotiating wicked hills with considerable difficulty.
Dec. 10
Met Kimberly's friend Tania for Sunday brunch at the ashram in Oakland that she frequents. A weekend retreat was in progress, and a loud silence prevailed, with everyone communicating only in whispers. The food, though served in Lilliputian portions, was excellent.
After chatting with Tania in our RV (where we again could talk at normal volume) we headed up to the campground in the hills above Lake Chabot in Castro Valley, a campground where we have stayed many times over the years. But we were only there a short while before we headed back down the hill to catch a BART train into San Francisco, where we worked at yet another Christmas party.
Exiting at Civic Center station, we had a nostalgic stroll through some very familiar neighborhoods. There was the San Francisco Library, where Dennis worked for 3 years, although not in the current monstrosity of a building; at that time, the library was housed next door in the architecturally classy structure that is now the Asian Art Museum. In the plaza across the street, we passed the spot where, 15 years ago, Kimberly won first place in the San Francisco Characters Monologue Competition, performing a piece written by Dennis. And across the street from that is the Opera House, where Dennis was a super for 5 years. On up Polk Street a few blocks, to the apartment building where Kimberly was living at the time we met. A few months later, she was forced out by a fire, or more specifically by the firemen who chopped a huge hole in her ceiling.
About a block away from the apartment building was an establishment that would have made her ecstatic had it been here at the time: a tea shop, almost comparable to Tisane in Hartford, CT. The merchandise was so enticing that even though we already were pretty well stocked with tea, we couldn't resist buying one particular aromatic variety that this shop blended itself.
Later, on the way back down to the BART station, we passed by the Orpheum Theatre, where the musical "Edward Scissorhands" closed up its blades this afternoon. We'd really wanted to see this show, based of course on the Tim Burton movie of the same name, but it didn't work out. When we walked past, the freight door in back was open, providing a sweeping view of the theatre seats and the stage, from which the crew was loading the equipment onto the truck parked in back.
As we boarded the train, two BART police officers (one of them a young woman who was not very big, but still looked tough enough to handle the most unruly of offenders) strode through the cars, apparently looking for someone, but not finding them; the pair exited at the next stop but continued peering through the windows. Fortunately, it appears we also didn't encounter whomever they were seeking.
Dec. 11
The entire day was spent at Chabot Campground, where the eucalyptus trees fill 4 of the 5 senses: they're stunning to look at, of course, and they have a most pleasing and comforting aroma. And you easily can touch them if you want to. But they also produce an interesting sound at times when the branches rub together, somewhat like a bow being scraped softly across violin strings, or perhaps the sound of guitar strings when the tuning pegs are turned very quickly. We suppose you could even eat a eucalyptus tree, although we think we'd rather let the 5th sense go unfilled.
Kimberly pulled out her trusty sewing machine (which she's had since high school days) and her bag of fabric and her bag of tricks and began concocting the costumes for the new shows. Dennis, meanwhile, was putting finishing touches on the scripts - at least until we recorded this week's podcast, after which he spent the rest of the day and well into the night editing. We did take a "break" in the afternoon, however, to rehearse as best we could without our third member of the troupe.
Dec. 12
After some more sewing, and finishing up the editing, we drove way down the hill into Castro Valley for our (only, we hope) errand run during our stay at the campground. First, we loaded Dennis' bike into the RV, hoping to take it to a repair shop - we've unhitched the trailer, not wanting to drag it up and down the hills if we can avoid it. We noticed that the tail lights and brake lights on our vehicle are not functioning (back up lights, blinkers and hazards are fine) and the problem is not merely a fuse; it's something that's going to require our attention, and quite possibly our bank account, as soon as possible.
There was a bike shop just across the street from the post office, where we also had business to transact, and transactions to keep us busy. The technicians at the shop looked at the rear brake on the bike, which has been out of kilter and impossible to adjust, and declared that a washer was missing, and they'd have to dig one up from among some spare parts; the fee for the repair would be about 20 bucks, which isn't bad these days.
Meanwhile, Dennis went to the post office to pick up the express parcel we'd had sent to General Delivery, and the line of holiday package mailers was about 10 strong at that point. The letter we received was a packet of red tape – or rather pink tape, as it was an official requirement that all these forms be on pink paper – from one of the school districts in Florida where we'll be performing in February. We'd already filed an online "vendor registration" form not once but twice, and had made several phone calls about the possibility of having the clients access the fingerprints we'd had made for another school district, so we won't have to endure the expense and inconvenience of doing it again. (Have we mentioned that conducting business with Florida schools has evolved into a full-blown nightmare during the past couple of years? Anyone who sets foot on a school campus is required to submit to fingerprinting and a background check, which isn't a terribly bad idea in itself, but is inconvenient and costly, and either the "vendors" - or, in our case, bohemian thespians - must absorb the cost or persuade the schools to cover it. And there is no uniform sharing of data among different counties, so we theoretically we could be expected to complete this process separately for each county in which we perform. Not only does the left hand not know what the right hand is doing, the left thumb doesn't even know what the left forefinger is doing. And the individuals who have to work under this system constantly are even more frustrated by it than we are.)
Back to the RV to complete this confusing arsenal of paperwork, which required us to fill in the same information over and over again, and then back to the post office to mail it back via express mail. The line of customers had doubled, and by the time our transaction was complete, it had just about doubled again.
Meanwhile, back at the bike shop, we'd been informed that another brake part was broken off and missing, and they'd have to replace the rear brake entirely, for "a couple of dollars" more. This "couple of dollars" turned out to be a couple of tens, but at least now Dennis can ride his bike knowing that the rear wheel will stop whenever the front one does.
On to Trader Joe's to stock up, and then we had to find a place to get online, which wasn't easy in Castro Valley. But we learned that wi-fi is available at the Hayward Library, which was only a couple of miles away, so that's where we went. This is the library (since expanded) that Dennis used to frequent when he lived in Hayward many, many moons past, and during our first couple of years in business, we performed for this library and one of its branches a time or two. We saw faces among the librarians that looked familiar, though we couldn't place them.
Finally, back up the hill, where we settled in for an evening with our machines. When it was almost bedtime, we decided it was about time to watch the DVD we recently purchased of Franco Zefferelli's 1968 masterpiece "Romeo and Juliet", in preparation for our upcoming Shakespeare show. It's still just as fresh and imaginative as it ever was.
Dec. 13
We're again holed up with the squirrels, deer and (reportedly) mountain lions at Chabot Campground, working on costumes and scripts and enjoying the peace and quiet to which we've become so unaccustomed. It's been rainy, drizzly and extremely foggy, but that doesn't affect our activities any; we're not really camping here to enjoy nature, but the scenery does provide a nice fringe benefit.
We heard from the school district in Florida, and apparently they received our express mail from yesterday, and the paperwork is actually (miracle of miracles) sufficiently in order. But we're going to need to file the vendor registration form online for a THIRD time!!
Kimberly's sewing machine is humming along at full throttle. At least she has a comfy RV to sew in and electricity to turn the motor. This was not the case a few years ago when we were camping here in a tent and she was under the gun of an impending show opening. Unable to obtain a campsite with electricity, she opted to lug her machine and fabric into one of the restrooms to get some work done. This is a story we always like to tell to provide an extreme example of how resourcefully we sometimes have to respond to the challenges of operating a business on the road.
Dec. 14
Another full day at the campground. We talked to Zephyr out in North Carolina, and he and the band have already finished the recording of the 5 songs they were working on. It went capitally, and they are planning to play the finished product at a party on Sunday. (He flies back to California to rejoin us on Monday.)
ANOTHER CHABOT MEMORY: It was the hottest summer on record in the Bay Area; temperatures in San Francisco, one of the coolest of cities (in many ways) broke 100, and it was even hotter up here at the campground. But we still had to rehearse a show that would be opening in a few days, so we put up our set and then we had to deal with it being almost blown over by breezes that whipped up out of nowhere; we literally had to hold onto it while rehearsing. Our neighbors were a family from Massachusetts who shared with us some most welcome ice cream they'd brought back packed in ice from a shopping excursion down the hill. The man happened to be an instructor in stage combat, so he watched us rehearse and gave us feedback on the execution of some of our physical stunts.
Meanwhile, a ranger who'd passed by and spotted our trailer with our logo on it told us that she was offering a campfire program that involved the moon and other celestial bodies, and asked if we had an appropriate story that we'd be willing to present. We'd long ago sworn off outside performances, and we don't normally perform for free either, but under the circumstances we decided to make an exception. We dusted off "Coyote and Eagle", a Native American myth about the origin of the moon, a story that we hadn't performed in a about 5 years. After running through it once to refresh our memory, we stepped onto the starlit stage in front of a fireside audience of about 75, and bowled them over. Then, after this pleasant distraction, we went back to work on our new production.
Dec. 15
We were scheduled to check out of the campground today, but decided we could use another day here, so we paid for another night. This is one of the few times we've ever stayed here during the winter, and it's almost deserted, except for the flock (if that's the appropriate word) of wild turkeys that traipsed through our campsite en route to some casual appointment or other. Dennis tackled the lighting problem on the vehicle and actually solved it quickly and easily. So we had enough time to break away from the work schedule long enough for a chilly bike ride around the hill-infested campground.
YET ANOTHER CHABOT MEMORY: It was the Fourth of July, and with clear skies, we hoped we'd be able to see the fireworks display from San Francisco. But as the show started, we discovered that we'd miscalculated, and a line of trees obscured most of the action. So we frantically took a hike along various trails, stumbling along in the dark in search of a decent vantage point. We never really found one, glimpsing fireworks only furtively; but it was still one of our most memorable Independence Day experiences because of the quest itself, and because of what we tantalizingly failed to find.
Dec. 16
Finally checked out of Chabot Campground, a delayed process because of a disaster involving a waste tank drain hose. Drove down to Pleasant Hill, where we purchased some fabric to use in our new productions. Then visited our friends Craig and Ann in Walnut Creek. Craig, the engineer, had offered to let us use his place and his tools, and maybe even his expertise, in making any repairs we need to the RV. And we did manage to accomplish a couple of tasks, even though we really didn't have a great deal of time, and he was suffering from some sort of bug.
Back to Palo Alto, where we worked at yet another Christmas party, this time at the Crowne Plaza Hotel.
Dec. 17
Spent a while at Panera getting some computer work done.
Then in the evening we decided that we were overdue for a movie. After a bit of deliberation, we settled upon "Casino Royale", the new James Bond movie with the new James Bond. We were somewhat underwhelmed, so we also saw "Pursuit of Happyness", which we enjoyed much more. And it was yet another nostalgia riff, since the film was set in San Francisco during the Eighties, the same time we lived there. (Actually, it began in 1981, when Dennis had been in the city couple of years, and Kimberly was in high school across the Bay.) And it was shot almost entirely on location, and featured noteworthy local character Rev. Cecil Williams, portraying himself.
Dec. 18
After sleeping in longer than we should have, we took care of some shopping, jostling elbows with the Christmas shoppers, and some banking and other errands.
This evening we picked up Zephyr at the airport, returning from North Carolina where he recorded a little album with his band. He played it for us, and it sounded rather impressive.
Dec. 19
Recorded our podcast for this week, which included the O. Henry story "Gift of the Magi". Tried to get it edited at the Foster City Library, but because of technical problems, we were unable to finish.
Dec. 20
An early morning visit to the YMCA in Palo Alto. Dennis took his computer into the lobby afterward, and finished editing the podcast.
Then off to perform at the Mitchell Park branch of the Palo Alto Library. A large turnout for a non-Christmas program at a library in December.
And finally we take our leave of the Bay Area, where we've been ensconced an unusually lengthy time, and have had many nostalgic encounters. We won't be back here until at least spring of 2008.
Dec. 21
On to Modesto, where we spent some time at Clix, an Internet café with a special section of gaming computers that Zephyr really loved.
As we were leaving, a car pulled around the corner near our vehicle and died. The driver, a young woman who appeared no more than 20, with a baby in the car, got out and began to push. Dennis started pushing it for her, while she got back inside to steer, and soon two other men came along and also helped. One of them asked her, in Spanish, about her predicament, and she responded that she was out of gas. So Dennis carried our gas can to a nearby station, brought it back, and poured it in her tank. She offered money, but of course he refused, and just told her "Merry Christmas" and "take care of that child".
We then made three stops in Sacramento: first, the Rancho Cordova Library, where we dropped in on one of our favorite librarians, Mr. Tim. Then to Kimberly's brother's house, where we picked up some tire chains for our upcoming drive through the Sierras. And finally, we stopped to do some last-ditch gift shopping.
Dec. 22
Presented our final two performances of "Daring to Dream" at Lincoln Elementary in Yuba City. It was Pajama Day at the School.
Then we started driving toward Reno for the holidays. It was a winding road through the mountains, part of it littered with snow, but we arrived at the home of Kimberly's parents without encountering any weather.
Dec. 23
Spent virtually the entire day going through our storage unit, rearranging utter chaos into a more identifiable form of chaos. Kimberly's brother and his family arrived from Sacramento.
Dennis was delighted to receive a shipment containing all the back issues of InRadio discs that are missing from his collection, and that he ordered by special arrangement.
Dec. 24
Christmas Eve, and we all had our big Christmas dinner tonight. Kimberly's grandmother joined the rest of the clan.
Dec. 25
First thing this morning, we all opened presents.
Later in the afternoon, we were joined by Kimberly's old high school chum Tania, who came to visit for a few days. And then her brother and his wife went back home, leaving our niece Jenny and nephew Joey to stay with their grandparents for a week.
Dec. 26
Today Kimberly, Dennis and Tania went skiing at Boreal ski resort is the Sierras, about 50 miles west of Reno. It was the first time downhill skiing for Dennis and the second time for Kimberly. (You may recall that we went cross-country skiing for the first time last year in British Columbia.) Not wanting to collect a broken bone or two, especially so close to the opening of our new show, we opted for the instruction package, which consists of a beginners' class, ski and boot rental, and lift pass. (It was actually more economical than just renting the equipment and paying for the lift without the instruction!) We chanced to be placed in separate classes; Kimberly's group happened to be mostly decidedly slow learners, while Dennis happened to end up with a group who picked things up very quickly, with the aid of an unorthodox instructor who liked to refer to himself in the third person ("Watch Bob now, Bob's gonna show you how to do a turn.") and didn't like using poles. Under his guidance, Dennis made it through the entire class - which included a "graduation run" down a baby slope--without a single spill, and even did a run down the hill on his on without upending. But when Kimberly dragged him onto a steeper incline (at the top of which he failed to debark from the lift chair in time, and caused the lift to be shut down for at least 5 minutes) he took three defaults, including one that made him look like a tumbleweed.
Normally, the slopes would have been open until 9:00, but today they closed at 4:30, due to a storm blowing in. In fact, our last half hour or so we were skiing in a quasi-blizzard.
Back at home (as it were) Kimberly and Tania, who were best buddies in high school, spent a pleasant hour or two reminiscing over the photo albums and yearbooks that Kimberly had culled from storage.
Dec. 27
There was no putting it off any longer. Today, we HAD to buckle down and get work done on the new production. We set up shop in the garage (after Kimberly's parents removed one of their vehicles) with sewing machine, costume fabric, set, props and a partridge in a pear tree. While Kimberly cranked away on ye olde sewing machine, Dennis went on an errand run, including a (mostly vain) search for props and materials. He also picked up a couple of rolls of film we'd left to be developed, and which had been lying around for a couple of years – the first old-fashioned photos we've had developed in ages, since joining the digital era. (They were mostly shots of a visit to Roswell, NM)
We still managed to work in a bit of rehearsing, and when it became too cold in the garage for the little electric heater to make it comfortable enough for the cold-natured Kimberly to continue laboring, she came into the house and spent more time recalling the good old days with Tania, as they dug through still more of the boxes and boxes of photos that have been dragged in.
Dec. 28
Another day of Kimberly spinning away at the wheel, as if waiting for Rumpelstiltskin to return. And another day of Dennis going on a wild goose chase around town, though with somewhat better results than yesterday.
In the evening, Kimberly's parents gave the kids (Zephyr and his cousins Joey and Jenny) another Christmas gift by taking them to see a holiday song and dance revue. For the rest of us, it was the gift of a quiet house.
Dec. 29
We said goodbye to Tania, who headed back home to the Bay Area, and then it was back to work in the garage.
Dennis is really enjoying being able to listen to his favorite radio station while he works. He's said before that he'd just about be willing to move to Reno just so he could listen to KTHX 100.1 all day long. But now (hooray and huzzah) this no longer would be necessary. Because you can listen to "The X" online! (kthxfm.com) So if you'd enjoy an eclectic mix of noncommercial acoustic rock, folk, country, blues and even a weekly New Age program, you might try tuning in. You may not like everything you hear (although the programming is thoughtfully selected) but if nothing else you should be impressed by the variety.
Dec. 30
More work on the new production, and we received some very competent help from Joey and Jenny. Joey, age 12, is a budding inventor, and he helped us rig up a lighting effect for one of our props. Jenny, age 10, is more the artistic type, and proved to be quite adept in sewing by hand.
We discovered a leak in the radiator of our RV, a radiator that was replaced in June, and in no way should be leaking already. Saturday is always a difficult time to get repairs done, and far more so if it's a holiday weekend. And we really didn't need the distraction at this hectic time. But we did manage to find a shop that examined it and found that the leak was indeed the radiator itself, and not merely a hose. They wanted 500 dollars to install another new radiator, and said they couldn't get to it until Tuesday. So we contacted a local Econo Lube, the franchise at which we had the repair done in Boise back in June, to inquire about having it covered under warranty. They said the warranty was only good for 6 months (which we were a couple of weeks past) or 6000 miles (which we were 5000 miles past) but they would call the place in Idaho and try to arrange to have it covered anyway, though they sounded doubtful. In any case, it also meant waiting until Tuesday.
Dec. 31
Dennis took the RV out to get propane, and also went back to the hardware store for more material. He took along Joey, who is fascinated by hardware.
In mid-afternoon, Kimberly was working away in the garage when she had a surprise visitor: our "daughter" Ellie, whom we've caught up with several times around the country. This time, she drove in from Sacramento to spend New Year's Eve with us. At midnight, we went out in the back yard, where we had an excellent view of the fireworks downtown (the house is high up on a hill). And these fireworks were indeed right downtown, seeming at times to turn the tall buildings into humongous roman candles. We'd never seen anything quite like it.
And so ends this wild, wacky, wonderful year of 2006.
< - November - December - January 07 - >
