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| Hah! |
Since I was
reunited with my I-phone you can now bask in the glory that is the weekly photo
of my son and I at our hump day luncheon (and you thought you’d escaped that fate
this week!). Yesterday I was reunited
with my phone over a very fun lunch date due to a flat tire (are you intrigued yet?).
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| The Mountain on Monday |
Wednesday night
as I continued chipping away at the mulch mountain in the driveway I had to back
my wife’s car out of the garage. When I
did I finally identified the tire that had been setting off a sensor light for
the past week. I like having the sensors
in the tire that let you know when a tire is going flat (except when it’s the
ingeniously concealed spare tire). When
the light first lit up a week ago I scientifically employed my tire gauge which
involves the vigorous use of kicking the tires (literally). This method failed to detect any low tire
pressure so I surmised the damned spare tire was low again and could wait. We then took several long trips with the car
including the wife’s weekly all day drive to deliver meals on wheels. In turns out my shoe leather tire gauge may
need some calibration as when I backed the car out I noted the rear tire was
dangerously low due to a stainless steel screw that had mated with it.
While this was
not welcome news it did set up a chain of events culminating in not only the
above mentioned reunion with my cell phone but also a lunch with my favorite Panamanian;
more on that in a second. I think the
best tool anyone can possess is a portable tire inflator. I stole this one from my son and am constantly
using it for my riding lawn mower and its attachments, as well as the odd
basketball or football. Yesterday I used
it to return the tire to drivable status and took her car into work since there’s
a tire repair place few doors down from my office.
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| Everyone Should Own One of These |
My wife was
driving into Worcester with for a hair appointment so I was reticent about separating
her from the navigation device. She
assured me that she could find the hair dresser with her eyes closed (not that
we want to make the attempt in that fashion) so the vast sums of money spent
there have not been totally wasted. I
was able to get the tire repaired quickly and when she called to report I had
left my cell phone at home I asked her out to lunch following the cranial maintenance
session.
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| The Rhino |
We linked up
for lunch but she declared the restaurant at the hairdresser place was not keto
friendly so we set off down Shrewsbury Street in search of sustenance. We ended up at the Flying Rhino Café and
Watering Hole (great name there). I’ve
eaten there a few times and it never fails to over achieve. If you’re ever in Worcester and looking for a
great place for lunch – hit the Flying Rhino. My lunch date was everything I needed in the way
of sprit-lifting after a morning of soul sucking meetings.
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| My Devastatingly Beautiful Lunch Date |
I returned home
to administer a coup de grâce to the mulch mountain before the Bruins game started. Buddy was forced to watch from inside due his
recent spate of territorial integrity issues.
Another sign of spring, black flies, more than made up for his absence
in the way of distractions. I finished
off the hill but discovered I’m going to need more. My wife’s ruthless garden expansion program has
upped the ante on mulch coverage so I was a couple yards short.
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| The Mountain Last Night |
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| Then It Was Gone! But Still Not Enough |
The Bruins game
was everything I hoped for. They finally
adjusted to Montreal’s style of play and imposed their will on the faster but
less physically inclined Canadiens. The
result was a taut game with a lot of big hits but no scoring. The Bruins seemed to have an internal bet on
how many times they could hit the cross bar without actually putting the puck
into the net. I asked the wife for a
vigorous stroke of the beard at the end of regulation time. It culminated in a storybook ending with a
young kid, Matt Fraser, just called up the day before from the minor leagues potting
the game winning overtime goal. This is
what is so great about playoff hockey, even without any scoring, the game kept
us on the edge of our seat throughout. I
say “we” because my wife watched the entire game with me. You’ll no doubt be surprised to hear that hockey
is not a huge sport in Panama but she was caught up in the emotion every bit as
much as I was (well almost).
We were also
checking in on the NFL draft which was taking place at the same time. My wife vowed to watch it this year after
seeing the movie Draft Day. I warned her
there would be no Kevin Costner but she insisted (and who was I to argue). It turned out she had been paying attention
to the plot despite Costner’s screen presence and picked up on a lot of what
was going on. It helped that just like
the movie we had a highly touted quarterback freefalling down the draft board
and the Cleveland Browns bouncing up and down the board with a maniacal pace of
trades.
Who knew that a
day that started out with a flat tire could turn out so well?
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