The neighbor’s $300 as-is POS Buick lost its brakes yesterday so, being the good Samaritan, I helped them out with replacing the brake lines and rotors, and supplied a few bottles of street grade brake fluid that have been collecting dust for a few years and did a full bleed for them. But that’s neither here nor there.
When I went into the garage to grab my tools, I found it rather odd that a peanut was sitting atop my tool chest. A large Ziploc bag of peanuts was on the top shelf of the rack, but it was sealed. I opened up one of the drawers, and peanut shells were littered everywhere. I opened another drawer. Same thing. Another. Same. Except the last drawer I opened also had a little nest, lots of mouse poo, and scraps of fur. Joy.
I still don’t know where the peanuts came from. The Ziploc was sealed tight, and there were no holes in the bag. And there was probably a handful or two worth of shelled and eaten peanuts scattered among my tools. I guess it will remain a mystery.
Like most parents who watch their children grow up, it sometimes eerily feels like you’re watching someone else’s life on TV. You can’t always be there, and your child eventually takes on a life of their own with their own friends and activities. You hope for the best, because if your child was anything like you were as a child, you know they’re up to something when you’re not around.
That’s more or less what’s happened with my Trunkmonkey concept. Originally started as a sick joke back in 2000, the idea took off and spawned a life of its own, creating a cult mascot that’s now graced thousands of Subaru owners’ cars. The joke was more or less contained within the Subaru community, and all was well.
But then Suburban Auto Group released a series of Superbowl commercials featuring a Trunk Monkey, and the innocence of the Trunkmonkey was lost. Although R/West, the creators of the Trunk Monkey ads, claim that they came up with the idea on their own, I’m hard pressed to buy that story. There are too many parallels, right down to the security Trunk Monkey wielding a crowbar.
But, alas, what can you do? When a joke is let loose into the public domain, there’s not much you can do to stop it once the ball gets rolling. I might as well just cash in.
Kelly and I are taking a mini-vacation this week and will be flying down to Sunny Florida for a few days to visit Dad and Gram. It figures…we’ll be leaving on an unusually warm day. It was 50 today, so who knows how warm it will be tomorrow when we leave.
Once we get to Florida, we’ll be doing the tourist thing, playing with my Dad’s Segway, seeing the sights, then driving home in a free Subaru Legacy that fell out of the sky. Well, not really. Gram sidegraded to a Ford Escort, so I get the Legacy to replace the rally car as my daily driver. On the way home, we’ll be stopping off at Picky Hedgies so Kelly can look at hedgehogs.
So, once we get home, the rally car goes up on jackstands for major surgery. Fun stuff.
Andrew and I drove up to Hatch Manufacturing in Groton, VT last night to pick up the last bits of my interior. Although we couldn’t get any welding done on the car the headliner and door panels are now mostly back in. That just leaves the rear seat and some finishing touches on the trim before the Essex Junction rallycross on Sunday. The headliner was the most amusing part and we managed to stuff it up between the cage and the roof…still no idea how that happened. Something about bending spacetime and unfolding the car and the cage around the headliner.
We finally have suspension for the car. After sitting for two weeks in customs the DMS50s have finally made their way to our garage. Initial paranoia set in because the struts were rattling and oozing red goo but it turns out that that’s perfectly normal. The rattle is the foam bumpstop inside the strut and the goo is just the seal lubricant. No worries, no big deal. We’re on schedule to do the install on Saturday.
I ran down to HMS Motorsport yesterday to pick up some high density padding for the roll cage and try on fire suits. I’ve lost enough weight to start looking for uniforms and, I’ve got to say, I’m dead sexy in a fire suit. Sizing is still a little weird…my body is a 56 but my thighs and shoulders are a 60. So, since I’ll be grubbing around underneath the car at service, I’m going with a 60 to keep lots of slack and allow for movement.
I finally got a direct dial number to the US Customs office and bypassed the UPS Customs Brokerage. Inspector Hillman was more than happy to help me track down the DMS50s and find out why they’d been sitting idle in the warehouse. After verifying all of my information, getting values on the packages and running through the standard script of questions he started digging. Turns out the package was held for a random check but, since no one noted what they were checking for, the package was never actually put in the queue to be checked.
Inspector Hillman said that the package would be processed today or Monday and would definitely be on the truck on Monday. I won’t naively blindly believe him but at least I’m now talking directly to a customs agent instead of the customer service representatives at UPS who are looking at the same Web page that I am to get status on a shipment. Regardless, looks like we’ll find out on Monday.
At first glance I thought my CV boots were torn. Turns out that I had just glanced under the car quickly and was actually looking at the protective boots for my steering rack. Still a big deal, but less of a big deal than the CV boots.
Lachute shipped out my DMS50s at the end August and they’re still sitting at US Customs being torn down and inspected. No idea when they’ll be showing up. Bastards.