Stupid Town Statues

I was going to write about us trying to find another car, but I changed my mind after I watched a tourist commercial for Milwaukee.  Milwaukee is okay.  I've even been there once or twice, and one time, I even stayed overnight there.  You can even walk most places except west of Marquette, in which case you'd better be packing a flame thrower and a Phalanx anti-aircraft gun.

Anyway, the Milwaukee tourist commercial was about 30 seconds long and basically sent the message that you should come to see the life size bronze statue of ...

The Fonz.

Some of you may not remember "The Fonz", but he was a staple of those hit ABC comedies "Happy Days", "Laverne and Shirley" and of course, "The Flintstones".  Now, I'm all for cities putting up statues, especially if they have home town boys that they're proud of .  Even Kingman, Arizona has a small statue (or is is a picture) of Andy Devine (look him up).  But statues of fictional characters is a bit much.  Henry Winkler isn't any more from Milwaukee than Sylvester Stallone is from Philadelphia.

But the thing about "The Fonz" statue is its absolute hideousness.  Behold ...

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Who did they commission to make this?  The special effects guy from Night of the Living Dead?  Here's another angle ...

Now He Only Looks Like He Has A Bad Case Of Jaundice

At least they got the height correct, as Henry Winkler is just four feet tall.  And speaking of really bad town statues, who can forget Chicago's own ...

Marilyn!

This was a fairly typical picture.  One or two guys standing between her legs looking up her skirt. Classy.  Fortunately, Marilyn left town for Palm Springs, California a couple of weeks ago.  They came in the middle of the night and disassembled her in three pieces and drove her away, kind of like the Irsay's did to the Baltimore Colts.

Here's another dumbass statue, this time in Winslow, Arizona named ... wait for it ...

Standing On The Corner

(In Winslow, Arizona)

GET IT?

I suppose you have to be an Eagle's fan.  Maybe someone will build a Hotel California next.

There is one hometown statue that I've seen in my travels that some would think hokey, but I think it's just damned impressive.  Next time you're in Key West (Florida, not West Virginia) look up this statue.  It's impressive because it's not made out of bronze, or tin, or stainless steel; but engineered wax.  And at just the right time of day, the tide comes in, making it look completely realistic.  It's my favorite ...

"Jaimee"

Next Post:  I get off track again.

And Then It Started

It was a good Winter.  The forecasters had predicted Armageddon, but as usual they were wrong.  It snowed only a few times ... not even enough to justify firing up the snow blower.  The thermometer never went below 10 degrees.  Life was good.  I even went back to work in December, after a wonderful 6 months off.

Jan broke her ankle on a Saturday in February.  People trip every day and nothing happens, but she tripped and it broke.  The kids were over and we tried not to make a big deal of it.  In fact I thought it was just a sprain.  But when she got up on Sunday morning and her ankle was the size of an elephant's trunk, I knew we had to go to the emergency room.  Yes, it was broken, but not badly enough where she needed surgery.  About half way through the process of putting on the cast, it occurred to me that she had broken her right ankle.  Her driving leg.

And that meant that she wasn't going to be able to drive the Pontiac.  And we'd have to work out a schedule in which I could drive her to work, get her situated and then drive myself to work, which was direct east, about 10 miles.  And then I'd have to do it again in the afternoon.  All of a sudden, my 30 mile/40minute back and forth turned into a 70 mile/hour and a half nightmare.

Peterson Road is the only main east-west artery in Northern Lake County.  And at 4:00 in the afternoon, it's an absolute bitch.  By the time I left work, and ground my way through it over to Jan's school, I was in a foul mood.  And it was going to take 6 weeks for Jan to be able to drive again.  I hate inconvenience.

But, she was the one with the bum leg, so I knew it wasn't any easier on her.  However, asshole that I am, I was still in a foul mood most of the time.

About week two into the process, the Pontiac started acting up. The Pontiac ... the Grand Prix ... the money pit was something I never wanted to buy.  Jan loved it though, so we bought it.  Cars have thousands of moving parts, and in the ten years we owned the car, we had replaced most of them.  Still, just when we though nothing else could fuck up, it would.

By February, it had become an every other month pain in the ass.  It was always in the shop.  One night, on the way over to school, the transmission started to buck ... subtly.  Sometimes it was all right, other times, you knew something was wrong.  I started to worry.  Take the car in and spend thousands on the transmission, or wait and have it fry by the side of the road.  Leaving us stuck in the cold.  Me, with my foul mood and Jan in her corrective boot ... stranded.

It was time to do something ...

Next Post:  The Car

Contrary To Popular Belief

There are stretches in life that I label as "runs".  Think back as far as you can remember ... There were good runs and there were bad runs.  You know when they were: I don't have to explain them to you.

My last good run was from July 2011 until the last part of January 2012.  Good times.  Then the bad run started.  You don't always recognize it at first.  Sometimes it takes a month.  But when you're in it, well you're in it.  It's not one thing, it's a series of things.  That's what makes a bad run.

Glad you're still with me.  I've saved up all kinds of shit over the past month, and I'm looking forward to sharing it.

See you soon.