A few weeks ago Angela’s Mother’s SUV had a flat not far from here, they were on their way to Angela’s nephew’s birthday. I grabbed my tools and headed up to where they had pulled off the road and got the tire off no problem. The spare tire was another matter. In this particular make the spare hangs under the car and needs to be lowered by a cable pulley system, the directions for which are quite incomplete. One is expected to remove a small plastic cap in the bumper, extend the jack handle two and a half feet blind in the under carriage of the car and magically locate the winch by feel – it does have a small cone in front of it like the dog collar they give to animals who lick their own asses too much, but even that genius addition wasn’t much help. One cannot eyeball it from underneath as the tire is in the way.

Eventually I figured it out (got lucky) and with daylight to spare they were on their way. Yesterday I got a call from Angela, “My mom wants to know if her daughter and favorite mechanic want 20th row tickets to the Ram’s home opener against The Bears.” Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm FOOTBALL!!!!!!!!!!!! Let the endless parties with crap food and much beer resume. May The Packer’s number four press you all to the earth under that fucked up thumb of his. I am locally a Ram’s fan of place and necessity, but I was wearing Mean Joe Green pajamas (with the feet in) long before the Cardinals moved to Phoenix and am a cheese head through and through.

Ram’s tickets echo our roadside attraction. Belington Realty sent the boys out yesterday on my lunch hour to de-sewage the basement. I networked the new work printer yesterday and got everything up and running there. Ahhh Mercury with your imperious radiation of reversal, my war on your emanations of entropy proceeds undaunted. Like the reed in the wind I roll with your punches even as the mighty oak is toppled through the obstinacy of resistance, felled by Shiva’s swords of change.