I have damaged my apartment.

*sigh*. Last night I was laying on the couch watching TV when I heard "drip"......"drip"...."drip". I get up, turn on the lights, and try to track the sound down. Not in the ktichen, not in the bathroom, then I notice the windowsill. Its leaking from the top of the window and hitting the windowsill. Only problem is, it isn't raining. I go outside into the sunwell to look and realise the only thing that can be making water is the air conditioner in my bedroom. Shit. I realise my efforts to try and make the window AC unit quieter (it makes an all around assortment of random noises) have resulted in the water made from condensation polling in the window well and dripping through to the living room window below. Shit. I turn off the the AC, and realsie that I will need to fix this tomorrow.

The next day, after sleeping on the couch since my room was very warm, i remove the unit and th brace I had installed to give it support. While I have the unit inside I turn it on just to see if I can spot something inside that must be making all the noise. After the compressor kicks in, I realise that it is actually a stupid frame on the backside that has been making all the goddamn racket. A stupid cheapo thing designed to protect the exhaust grill. This piece of shit is what has been keeping me up at nights. Mind you, some of the noise is the vibration of the window frame, but this thing is culprit one for noisemaking. I manage to remove it with minimal violence, and replace the unit in the windowsill. It now runs quietly. Pheh.

On the social front: Nothing. As you might have figured from my watching TV on the couch Saturday night. Its not for lack of trying, but I have gotten nowhere. Life sucks.

The Good, The Bad and the Silly.

First the Good.

SaraBelle went to the vet yesterday, after missing last weeks appointment (no Pharmacies had Cytoxin!). She has gained 5 oz. Woo-hoo! She'll be football shaped again in no time!


The Silly:

Missing a week apparently threw the vet office into a tizzy. SaraBelle gets put in the same cage each time and the receptionists were saying that it was odd for her not to be there on a Wednesday. She's become part of the 'scene' for at least one day of the week. The Vet herself actually asked near the end of the day "Wait, what about SaraBelle! We didn't do her treatment", before the receptionist pointed out that I had called to cancel. Strange little girl, you are dang close to being one of the house cats!

The Bad:

My car decided its battery had had enough when I was coming home this evening. I stopped off to get a bite to eat after being in an off-site meeting. When I came out the car just wouldn't start. Called the VW 24 hour roadservice and found out that I might as well have been subscribed to AAA since that service ended two years ago. They did get a guy to come by and jump the car for me, but only after asking all sorts of irrelevant questions, like what dealership did I buy the car from, and other stuff. I ended up paying $50 for a jump. Growl. I think some point this weekend I will go buy one of those jumper things, as well as some jumper cables. Right now I just hope the car will start tomorrow.

One slightly Toasted Telescopemerc.

I rode my bike to work today. It was very warm in the morning, about 83 degrees. That's very warm for 7AM. Even so, it wasn't too bad.

At work, I contemplated wimping out because of the heat and taking the train home. Trouble is, the train is good for keeping me from getting tired, but no so good for the heat. I still have to ride to the station, and from the station to my house. These are tough, heavily traveled streets with a lot of hot cars making me miserable. So, no real benefit here.

So I rode.

Fuck it was hot. (99F)

When I reached Haddon Ave., I saw my brother coming the other way back from work. He usually has a fellow rider or two with him.

Not today. Too fucking hot.

He looked very surprised that I was riding.

Fuck it was hot. Thankfully, traffic was not heavy and people were OK driving around me, for a change.

I got a bit of racoon eyes from the sun and my shades. I baked in the hot sun crossing the bridge.

Fuck it was hot.

Happy B-day to me (+4 days)

Whee. My last year as a thirty-something.

*sigh*

Tony the barber, RIP.

I went by Bill's place after work. He came down the stairs carrying a bottle of Irish Whiskey and two shot glasses. Without a word he opened the bottle and filled both. I expected he was planning to share it with Adam, who was just getting downstairs himself. But Bill said 'pick one up'. I did so.

"Our barber is dead".

I was stunned, and drank the whiskey right down.

Tony the Fairfax Barber had been my barber in Philly for years. With the exception of the regrettable 'long hair' period and my time in California he had cut my hair quite well. I had gone to him ever since I moved out to West Philly, and when I moved to Fairmount I still would driver out there to get my hair cut. I stopped going after being encouraged to grow my hair long. Then I moved out to Santa Cruz, while I was out there I ended to long hair nonsense and got a haircut. When I returned to Philly, I expected that Tony would have retired. But I found that Bill, who had ended his long hair era just before I left for CA, was going to Tony for a haircut on a regular basis. Lo and behold Tony was still at work. I soon made an appointment and was back in the chair.

Sadly, the man was showing his age. When I first started he could but my ultra-fine hair to an excellent trim in about 10 minutes. He said my hair was a joy to cut since it was so easy. But after I returned, he had obviously slowed down. It took him the full half hour to give me a proper cut. His cutting was not impaired, but he moved slower now and that took more time.

A running joke in 'Men's Guide' books is that Men should not go to hairstylists, but go to some barber who 'has been cutting hair since our boys got back from Europe'. Tony was one better, he had been cutting hair while he was serving in Europe. His shop was a classic barber shop. He had made no compromises over the years to political correctness. His magazines included Playboys, which would almost be blasphemy to some sensitive souls. There were other magazines, of course, including the requisite National Geographic.

Bill had gone to get a haircut, and had found the shop locked and a memorial vase left out for the family. He came home and checked the online obituaries and found Tony's name.


Now I will need to find a new barber. I had gone to the one on 20th street pretty soon after I moved to Fairmount, but had found them not as good as Tony. I may have to try them again to see if 12+ years has changed their skill or their roster.

RIP Tony.

The 4th of July and other Adventures.

I had a four day weekend thanks to the 4th and taking off the 3rd. I spent most of it cleaning my apartment for the BBQ I hold in celebration of the fact that there is no way I could possibly get out of my neighborhood during these festivities. So I make others come to me and bring specialized food. It seems to have almost become a fancy dish party in many ways.

Sadly, this year a few friends could not attend, but we had a good time anyway. Unfortunately, I walked into the screen door on my deck and bent it completely out of whack. In addition to that I knocked it off its track. I'll need to figure out how to repair it soon.

On Wednesday I went to work, but I was feeling really ill from probably too much food and had to come home early. I felt somewhat better after a nap, but wasn't really feeling 100% until midday today.

This weekend promised a very big birthday party for several friends, including Bruni/Matilde. Jackie rented the Atwater Kent museum for this bash and it should be fun. Nice part is: I can walk there and back. Mwuahahaha!

I noticed that this post is not a coherant flow of information, but just some random thoughts thrown together. I'll stop now.