Phone success, fridge failure

Item 1: We have broadband again. The Comcast setup was pretty straightforward, though the tech did wear out a drill battery trying to punch a hole in our wall to install the jack. (We have a house that’s framed with “seasoned wood,” apparently the 1941 equivalent of pressure treated lumber, and the installer said it was definitely on his top 10 lists of most difficult walls to drill through ever. It didn’t help that he decided to go through a stud.)

Item 2: We also have a phone. After Saturday’s adventures with the junction block, I enlisted the help of Charlie, a friendly neighbor who also happens to be an electrician. He showed me a thing or two about troubleshooting, to wit: (1) the wiring to the kitchen jack was shot, (2) I had not connected the outside wires to the right spot on the junction box. We did get one jack working, so I have as a project to re-wire the kitchen jack. It’s all a straight shot above the ceiling, so it will be relatively straightforward. I’m going to take the opportunity to install a little switchblock from Leviton to make the process a little more managable. (For a great discussion of different structured wiring setups, check out HouseInProgress.)

Item 3: We still don’t have a refrigerator. The second one that came proved to have case parts that extended beyond the width of our doorways and couldn’t be removed, contrary to what the salesman had told me when I went, tape in hand, to pick out a fridge that would fit. We “fired” that appliance store and are now proceeding with a new two-part plan. First, I’ll get my crowbar and remove some of the trim from the offending doorway so we get another inch or two of room. Second, I think we’ll try Sears. From what our next door neighbor told me, their installers seem likelier to attempt creative solutions to get appliances into rooms.

Quick status #2: Phone hell, and appliances

Saturday we both woke up sweating about the appliances. The doors throughout our house, a 1941 Cape Cod that we bought from the original owner’s son and that had been occupied by a family member since it was built, are narrow—the door into the living room from the front is about 31 inches, the widest door into the kitchen is 27 inches, and the door into the utility room where the washer and drier would go is only about 26. We dashed to Home Depot to enquire about installing a new door. Fortunately a very patient Irishman in the door and window department informed us that it should be much simpler—all they should have to do to move the fridge inside would be to take the doors off.

That was good news, because we had to quickly dash south to meet Lisa’s parents halfway and pick up our dogs. We got back from that errand at around 3, only to find that the visit from Verizon had failed to get our phone working. He muttered something ominous on the call about some wiring being missing.

A trip back out to the box confirmed what he said. When I had checked the network interface the first time, I failed to note the absence of any wiring leading out of the NIB into the house. Yep, there was absolutely nothing connecting the network interface box to the house. I moped for a while, then went inside and “walked the wire” from where the connection in the kitchen dropped into the garage, through the utility room, and into the storage room where an, erm, “antique” phone block was connected to the ceiling. Next to it, a strain relief tube had been passed through next to the window.

Inspiration struck, and I ran to the Home Depot for some Cat-3 outdoor grade wire. I connected it to the NIB, ran it along the house into the strain relief tube, and tried to figure out how to connect it to the old phone block.

And there the story ends for now, because even after trying a couple of variations I can’t get the darned dial tone to go. Oh well. This is probably a good opportunity to look at structured wiring options, and quickly. Our cell phones don’t work so well up on the hill.

Quick status #1: Closing and dinner

Day three in the new house, and I’m down at the Starbucks in Arlington getting some coffee ground and downloading all my email. We still don’t have phone or cable at the house; more on that in a second.

The closing on Friday went very smoothly and we celebrated with lunch at Legal Seafoods. The rest of the afternoon was spent assembling our bed, getting most of the bedroom unpacked, and taking a whirlwind trip to Home Depot and Best Buy. We ended up purchasing a washer and drier and a refrigerator. And I guess what they say about “buy in haste” is true, at least regarding the fridge. But at the time we didn’t have a chance to secondguess ourselves; we had to dash back to Arlington to change and then downtown to the North End and Paolo Diecidue’s new place, Via Valverde (no web presence yet). I’ll write more about that trip later.

Getting ready again

One more journey, this one the shortest but the most important. Lisa and I are driving from her folks in NJ up to Boston today. We’ll spend tonight with our friends and close on our house tomorrow.

I expect that I won’t do a lot of blogging after this afternoon, because we won’t have high speed until Monday and my modem has been highly undependable on this trip. Look for more updates from me sometime early next week.

Arrived

I made it to Lakewood, New Jersey about 3:15 this afternoon. The rest of the drive was uneventful, excluding all 359 miles of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, which need a little work.

I have napped, had my face and hands licked by our excited dogs, and am drinking a Harpoon while I keep my eyes on various cooking things that are starting to smell good.

I talked before about some of the road toys that got me through the trip, but clearly the most important one was my Passat, which just came 3000 miles in four days and didn’t really break a sweat.

Now, dinner. Something not involving hamburgers, French fries, coffee, or carbonation added to soda syrup. (Carbonation in beer, on the other hand, is definitely in order.)

Open All Night

Bruce Springsteen
Nebraska
Columbia, 1982

Well, I had the carburetor, baby, cleaned and checked
with her line blown out she’s hummin’ like a turbojet
Propped her up in the backyard on concrete blocks
for a new clutch plate and a new set of shocks
Took her down to the carwash, check the plugs and points
Well, I’m goin’ out tonight. I’m gonna rock that joint

Early north Jersey industrial skyline
I’m a all-set cobra jet creepin’ through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a payphone
this turnpike sure is spooky at night when you’re all alone
Gotta hit the gas, baby. I’m running late,
this New Jersey in the mornin’ like a lunar landscape

Now, the boss don’t dig me, so he put me on the nightshift
It’s an all night run to get back to where my baby lives
In the wee wee hours your mind gets hazy
radio relay towers, won’t you lead me to my baby?
Underneath the overpass, trooper hits his party light switch
Goodnight good luck one two power shift

I met Wanda when she was employed
behind the counter at route 60 Bob’s Big Boy
Fried Chicken on the front seat, she’s sittin’ in my lap
We’re wipin’ our fingers on a Texaco roadmap
I remember Wanda up on scrap metal hill
with them big brown eyes that make your heart stand still

Well, at five a.m., oil pressure’s sinkin’ fast
I make a pit stop, wipe the windshield, check the gas
Gotta call my baby on the telephone
Let her know that her daddy’s comin’ on home
Sit tight, little mama, I’m comin’ ’round
I got three more hours, but I’m coverin’ ground

Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours
sun’s just a red ball risin’ over them refinery towers
Radio’s jammed up with gospel stations
lost souls callin’ long distance salvation
Hey, mister deejay, woncha hear my last prayer
hey, ho, rock’n’roll, deliver me from nowhere

I could stay and go on to fame and fortune

Cleveland.com: American Idol holding auditions here Wednesday. Apparently about three-quarters of the people staying in this particular Best Western are waiting for the auditions tomorrow at Cleveland Browns stadium. Sure beats karaoke.

One more day’s driving and I get to see Lisa and the dogs again. Today I go from Cleveland through Pennsylvania on 80 and then across New Jersey to her family’s place in Lakewood. With any luck, there won’t be a repeat of yesterday’s traffic snarl around Chicago. Then again, it’s already raining, so who knows.

Neologism of the day: gootllysac

I do have to give a big thumbs down to the loop around Chicago. The first 1600 miles of this trip were like some kind of platonic ideal of driving, where people stayed on the right unless they were passing, roads were well maintained, and you got plenty of room from your fellow drivers. Fast forward to the approach to Chicago, where I encountered my first stay-in-the-left-lane-for-six-days drivers, my first come-up-after-everyone-else-has-merged-from-the-closing-left-lane-into-the-right-lane-and-cut-in-front-of-me driver, and my first signs of the impending jaw surgery I’ll need from the rough ride.

Wah, wah, wah. I know. And yet I think it says something that I didn’t have to dust off my invective until today. For example, a little phrase I’ve taken to short-cutting as “Gootllysac,” lest “Get out of the left lane, you selfish ass-clown” be too long or harsh to pronounce. Try it, you’ll like it.

(For more left-lane angst and uses of the word ass, check out this classic post from 2002, now with working link).

Still going

Nothing outlasts…the cross-country drive. I have this funny feeling that I will be too tired, for a very long time, to post any blow-by-blow details of this trip. Suffice it to say that 2350 miles after leaving the Seattle burbs, I’m sitting in another cheap hotel with free internet, this one outside the Cleveland airport. (All together: Cleveland rocks!)

Odd factoid: not every room in these Best Westerns actually has high-speed Internet, despite it being advertised as “free” on the sign outside. I had to change rooms tonight to get the high speed connection.

Oh, and one minor correction to Dave’s post from a few days ago: the final destination of this trip is Boston—but the map on the first day’s post shows my interim destination, my in-law’s place on the Jersey Shore, rather than Delaware (a reasonable guess given the highly imprecise map).

Hallucinating

I did get a chance to try out the iTalk (which I mistakenly called the iMic a few posts back) yesterday. It worked, mostly. I held the mic too close the first time and got lots of unlistenable too-loud audio. The second time was OK but I was incoherent. The third time? It didn’t record at all for some reason.

Which was too bad, as I was actually babbling something that would have classified as “seeing vapor trails.” (Technically the following could be considered a “spoiler.”) My babbling involved an elaborate reading of “Kill Bill” as an inverse Odyssey with the Bride as Penelope having to fight her way home to Odysseus, who is waiting for her with her child. Along the way she has many picturesque fights, including one with a cyclops. Finally the couple is reunited. And then Penelope kills Odysseus. (OK, so Ulysses it ain’t.)

Things that spoil roadtrip photos

infrastructure and mile marker, minnesota

  1. Auto-exposure cameras that can’t be easily tweaked to capture the subtle play of the setting sun’s rays on a mountainside.
  2. Poor aim.
  3. Bugs on the windshield.
  4. Attempting to take photos at 6:30 in the morning through the windshield while driving. (Don’t worry, I made sure no one else was on the road, on either side of the median.)

Rough cut of the photo album for the first two days is up; notes as I get a chance.

Quick update: In the Twin Cities

Since I wasn’t able to dial up from the hotel in Livingston, Montana last night, I thought I’d post a quick update before I try to find a bite to eat. I’m currently sitting in St. Paul, Minnesota, where the Best Western has free DSL. <flavorflav>Yeah boooy.</flavorflav>

For those of you playing along at home, I’ve come over 1600 miles in two days. Just two more to go… Hopefully I can post more later.

Getting ready

I’ve never driven across country before, and certainly never done it by myself. So I’ve spent a lot of time getting ready. I got the car checked out on Wednesday. Most of it is packed full to the gills, and I’m not sure my framed photos from my office (for instance) are going to make it intact across the country. But I start driving tomorrow either way.

Here’s the route, or as near as I can get it in all the different online map programs that I’ve messed with. Tomorrow’s goal is Livingston, Montana. I’m hoping to get as far as St. Paul on Day 2, but we’ll see.

My companions? My digital camera; Roadfood; more Triptiks and maps and AAA guides than I can possibly use; ten years worth of mix tapes; my iPod (newly loaded with the free audiobook version of the 9-11 Commission Executive Summary and a not-free audiobook version of the Benjamin Franklin biography, plus about 8.5 GB of other stuff); and a Griffin iMic voice recorder that I’ll probably start using somewhere in North Dakota, which is when I imagine I’ll start seeing vapor trails and really talking to myself in earnest.

Maybe some audioblogging will come out of this. Who knows? All I know is that from this perspective the open road isn’t seeming too simple.

Untold story: How I sold my house at my ten year reunion

Untold story #1 from the last two months: how we sold our house at my ten year reunion at the University of Virginia, 3000 miles away from home. While we were at the Court Square Tavern.

We had left Kirkland on a red-eye Thursday night, bound for Charlottesville knowing that our agent was going to be showing the house while we were gone and trying to forget about our house being on the market and just enjoy the reunion. After we met Don Webb and our other friends at dinner, relaxing and enjoying became a lot easier. I already wrote about our trip to Court Square Tavern that night. What I didn’t write was what happened after we got there.

After we had been there for about half an hour, Lisa’s phone rang. She excused herself to stand over by the door where she could hear better, and Don and I continued to catch up. Then Lisa came back to the table with an odd look on her face. “What’s up?” I asked.

“James [Raysbrook, our realtor] says someone wants to buy the house. But we have to sign the offer and fax it back by 9 pm Pacific time.”

I looked at the clock. It was currently 10:40 Eastern time. An hour and 20 minutes wasn’t going to be enough time to find a Kinkos, call James with the fax number, and fax the documents back and forth.

Then inspiration struck. Lisa asked the bartender whether James could send us a fax on the Court Square’s machine. Twenty minutes later we had the offer in our hands and were paying scant attention to our beers as we pored over the details with James on the cell. Twenty more minutes later and I beckoned to the bartender again.

“You’re probably wondering what we’re up to. Well, we’ve just signed the papers to sell our house in Seattle and need to borrow your machine one more time to fax them back, if that’s ok.”

The guy was very clearly amused as hell, and I could see him cataloging the story to retell tomorrow. But he never cracked a smile. He said, “Of course,” and led me back up the stairs to the business office, where we faxed the papers back.

Smooth as silk. I’ve decided: from now on, I sell all my houses at the Court Square Tavern.