Over the past few days I’ve been working this deal and that deal and every other deal in between with the local Chevy and GMC dealers.  What am I trying to do?  Why, I’m trying to persuade them to let me take advantage of the government’s CARS plan (formerly known as, and written here about as, “cash for clunkers”).  “Oh yeah, how’s that going Dave,” you may ask…

From my experience while shopping these past few days, dealer awareness of the program seems poor overall, and when folks do know something it’s very hit-or-miss.  Some know about it in vague detail, some have never even heard of it, and none so far that I’ve been to know enough about it to be able to explain it as well as I can (all my knowledge coming from the website and legislation itself).  I think, were I owning a dealership, I’d make the law’s language itself mandatory reading for my sales staff, and have this  document printed for them all to have on-hand (especially the cheatsheet quick-reference table at the back).  But… that’s why I don’t run a dealership.

What’s got the dealers in such a fog, you may wonder…

See, the legislation mandates that the program went into effect yesterday, but that dealers won’t be setup with the funding/scrapping logistics until the 24th.  In other words, the deals are technically workable right now but the mechanics of how they work, from the dealer’s perspective, are undefined.  Some dealers, however, have been boastfully telling me that they’re doing C4C (my shorthand for the plan) “now” or “early.”  But, when it comes time to sit down to at the table and work the numbers, they get cold feet about fronting the $4,500 without  any real assurance from Uncle Sam that deals done prior to the official July 24 implementation will be reimbursed to them.

So, even though the sales managers are initially hot to trot and may promise the $4,500 while you’re on the lot – when they get back to the desk and realize you’ve done your homework, expect 0% APR and have GM “friends and family” pricing… they quickly realize they’re not going to make-up that $4,500 in sticker and instead recommend I wait for the “real” program.  Believe me, I’ve had three separate dealers swear to me they could give me C4C-equivalent trade-in for the Ford only to have them back out when I started talking numbers.

So, we wait.  Which is fine, although I do worry about the sweet 0% financing deals disappearing (right now they’re set to expire after the holiday weekend) and, to a lesser extent, the inventory on lot selling off.  But, I’ve waited this long… so I just need to practice some patience.  And, with the long weekend escape we have planned I think I’ll have no problems clearing my mind of all this vehicle business.  At least, here’s hoping…

Patience… patience…

Two blissfully short eight-hour days to go and then it’s off to the southern high-desert; a holy place.  You’ll find us celebrating our independence with friends in a little cabin on the floor caldera.  A fitting homage: watching fireworks from the bottom of a pit left by one of the largest volcanic events in the history of our tiny planet.

Sunday was a blistering hot day in California.  106° the weatherman said.  Hot enough to drive me back inside after only a few minutes working in the garage to hookup a new dual-zone speaker switch I got (so I can either the backyard speakers, the garage speakers, or both sets at once).  Hot enough that just standing around at 6pm as Keaton played in the park was causing the sweat to show through my salmon-colored polo.  I mean hot.

Even though today was better, it’s a good thing we got the AC fixed last week.

Friday night Sharaun and I dropped Keaton off with friends and made a date-night out of dinner and test-driving some of the top prospects in our new car hunt.  Right now, we’re pretty much bottomed-out on the GMC Acadia / Chevy Traverse – and I’ve moved into super-nerd pricing calculation phase on both, making sure we get the best combination of Obama’s stimulus, dealer incentives, and discount programs.

If I’m buying a new car, I want to steal a new car… the prospect of having car payment again after years without is daunting.  I hate debt, even the so-called “good” or “acceptable” kind.  So, if we’re taking on some financing for this vehicle, I want to make sure we can pay it off tout de suite.  I know I’ll pour cash at it, even at 0%… it just bugs me like that.

Anyway, the new car is close.

Tonight I finally took the time to box up all the old family photos I stole from my folks’ place last time we visited.  I’m sending them into a bulk photo-scanning service to get them all on a DVD for longevity (and just to have them, since the only copies, before the forthcoming, exist in my parents’ closet).  I paid for a bulk box, which I can fill to the brim with photos.  The hundreds I chose from the albums at my folks’ place filled the box about half-full, so Sharaun and I are going through a ton of her/our old photos and adding those to the mix.

When this DVD gets back… it’s gonna be a treasure trove… and oh how I bet there’ll be more than a few bits of blog fodder in there.  The goal is to send them off for processing before we leave for the extended weekend, and perhaps get them back sometime that next week.

Goodnight.

We went out for dinner to celebrate Kerry’s birthday, and Sharaun dropped Keaton and I off at the house so I could cover bedtime duty while she joined the others for a little afterparty.  With Keaton in bed, I have the house to myself.

As always, this means some uninterrupted music-and-computer tine.

The iPod fortuitously shuffled up a song that I absolutely adore: “Queen of Hearts” by Gregg Allman, specifically the impeccable live version from 1974’s Gregg Allman Tour record.  If you’ve never heard this song; you simply must.

Stick with it, I know it’s long… but wait until that saxophone comes in.  Is that not passion? Tell me that doesn’t soar.  Because, it does.  It totally does.  Wives, share that one with your husbands… there’s something soulful and wanting about it that I think all men can identify.  Or, I suppose it could just be me…

And… it’s near eleven and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.  Goodnight.

Keaton went to the dentist for the first time today.  Here are some fun pictures from Sharaun’s phone.

[Show as slideshow]

That is all.  Goodnight.

I got the air conditioning fixed after work this afternoon (for those don’t who read daily, or catch up sequentially, check yesterday’s entry for context).

After some quick lunchtime troubleshooting with a more knowledgeable friend, we deduced that the problem must be in the power to the furnace/handler in the attic.  What a coincidence!  The power to that unit is exactly where I’d tied into power for our new ceiling fan and not finished up the wiring to snuff.  So, after a sweltering trip into the attic around five o’clock where I did some test rewires (and got a nice 120V jolt because I flipped the breaker marked “AC” instead of the one marked “furnace”), the whole thing was up and running again.

Once running, I had a few hours of complacency where I left things in simply a better-connected version of what I had rigged before (albeit still not to code and therefore technically unsafe) and enjoyed the cool air flowing from our now-functioning vents.  Then, around 9:30pm I decided that if I didn’t finish the thing tonight I might never do it.

And that’s how I found myself at the local hardware megastore a mere fifteen minutes from the shuttering of the megadoors.  I picked up the necessary work boxes to finish the thing correctly, and reluctantly climbed back into the attic around ten o’clock.

I hate working in the attic.  You can’t put your weight in a comfortable place when you’re working in the rafters (tacking wire to board every sixteen inches or so), the angles are wrong and you have no leverage when you need to hammer because the space is so cramped, and it’s hot, stuffy, and itchy from all the insulation. Seriously, I’d rather work outside on a yard any day of the week then be shut up in that claustrophobic nightmare of a crawlspace.  You can have it.

But, it’s all working again… and for that I feel some small measure of accomplishment.

So, I wrote about working in the attic, went away from the computer intending to write something more interesting to close – and then lost all intent.  Sorry.  This is what you get.

Goodnight folks.

It’s beginning to heat up in California.  A few weeks ago, on another hot day for early Spring, Sharaun called me at work and said that the air conditioning wasn’t coming on.  Now, usually, when she calls with these kinds of “problems,” I shrug them off and recommend a few troubleshooting tips.  “Did you check the settings?,” I asked.  She had.  “Is it on ‘auto’ and in the ‘cool’ position?”  It was.  OK, so, the easy stuff down… I pointed her to the fusebox outside.  She checked, nothing amiss.

With no fuses tripped, I realized I’d pretty much walked through the extent of my AC debugging skills right over the phone, and, instead of the usual, “I’ll take a look when I get home,” I said something like, “Well, the AC is one of our most important appliances, you should go ahead and look up who to call and get a guy out there to look at it.”  As I hung up I had daymares about what might be wrong with the system, from the simple to the complex, and what it might cost to fix.  About five minutes later, however, Sharaun IM’d me to tell me the unit just kicked on.  Whew… maybe just an unusual delay.

And, I forgot about it.

Then, tonight, it did the same thing… right in front of my eyes.  In fact, after mucking around with the thermostat controls on the wall, to my dismay I realized the unit wasn’t even kicking on when I set the fan to the “on” position.  Not even after leaving it that way for a while, either. So, two strikes for the AC… something’s afoot.  Now… here’s why I’m worried.

Several months ago, I got all Bob Vila and decided to install a ceiling fan in the living room.  Shockingly, things went very well and the fan went quickly and easily.  At the time, I was quite proud.  Well, except for one little bit of “finishing:”  I tied the fan’s power into the AC and heating unit’s line in the attic, but I fudged the workbox for the new wiring junction (didn’t leave myself enough slack when cutting and splicing in the new line, a common novice mistake, I’m told).  Not wanting to make two more cuts and splice in a new section of wire that night, I left the spliced section just hanging in the unclosed workbox, and didn’t re-tack the wires to the rafters per code.

And, of course, despite my best intentions, that’s the way the wiring still sits up there today. Now, I have to wonder… is my lazy connection iffy?  Could the limp wires be tugging on the unsecured wire-nutted connection and causing some kind of intermittent power loss to the AC unit?  The fan works consistently, so you’d think not – but still, the timely seeming “failure” of the AC worries me.  Worse, if my connection is dodgy, in addition to being inherently unsafe to begin with, I’m worried it could start a fire.

So, this week it’s into the attic I go to repair the connection properly – giving me some peace of mind and eliminating it as a potential source of failure for the AC.  Wish me luck.

OK, let’s talk about Obama…

Looks like the “cash for clunkers” plan has been rebranded as the “Car Allowance Rebate System” and even has a fancy new website for the curious.  And, as things get more real every day, I’ve been spending some time thinking about what kind of bumper sticker might look nice on my new Obama-financed vehicle.  Tonight, I did some quick mockups in Inkscape just to get a feel for them.  Imagine us in a new car riding around town with one of these babies stuck to the back:

Not bad, but needs a little color…

Eh… the logo is too temporal and will be obscure and forgotten before the funny fades…

Oh yeah, that last one is definitely my favorite.

That was fun.

Oh, and it looks like the administration either finally got around to, or caved to “broken campaign promise” pressure, implementing a national website giving us plebs five days to review any bill passed by Congress before the president signs it into law.  A step in the right “de-mystification” direction, to be sure, although ultimately I question 1) who will care, 2) who is gonna look at the feedback that pours in, and 3) how effective is five days for the public to rally against something anyway.

Well, that’s it for tonight… turned out to be wordy and media-rich.  Who would’ve known.

Goodnight.

For Father’s Day I did two things I’ve been wanting to do for near a month now: cleaned out and organized the garage, and put the finishing touches on the landscape lighting I installed a couple months ago. You may say those sound like odd things to want for Father’s Day, but having been out of town for three weekends straight it really was what I wanted to do.

So, I put Long John Silver, Baron von Tollbooth and the Chrome Nun, Spitfire, Red Octopus, Blows Against the Empire, Bark, Dragon Fly, and Sunfighter into an “on the go” playlist on the iPod and set to work (props to those who understood the connection between those records without having to look-up the artists).

… is it sacrilege to say that pre-Earth Starship was better than, or at least as good as, Airplane ever was? Anyway…

As the mega-mix of those awesome records washed over me, I hung bikes from rafters, organized the hiking gear shelf, buried low-voltage wiring under mulch, and in general got the lead out of my long-time-wasting duties. I had, at the end of it all, intended to go for a bike ride to get some exercise… but instead I’m sitting here typing about it. In the end, I opted for a half hour or so swinging shirtless in the hammock with Keaton. We listened to more music and enjoyed the evening sunshine. Then before bedtime we all three walked down to the frozen yogurt place and had a little Father’s Day treat to cap the day.

Good stuff.

Saturday we made a pilgrimage down south to see Anthony’s long-lost daughter, who had been studying abroad for the past year. Keaton got to go swimming, eat fruit salad, and play with big cows and baby cows. Sharaun and I carpooled down with Ben and Suzy, and the ride was better than driving (thanks guys). It was fun seeing Anthony’s daughter again, and a personal relief for me, as the father of a girl myself, that, despite having aged a year abroad, she still seems not that far off from the eight year-old she was when we first met her. Here’s hoping Keaton can weather her teens as well.

And, with that… goodnight internetizens.

Thursday night in our living room right now, and I cut the air Sharaun’s been running all day.  And now, I’m too proud to admit that it’s hot in here and I’d actually be more comfortable with the air on, because of the big stink I made about it “being nice outside” and “not wasting money.”  So, we swelter.

Today was a good day.  We had an “offsite” at work, where the troops all get together at the lake and barbecue chicken and hot dogs and hamburgers and whatnot.  I was in charge of chicken, and it came out well.  Then, around 10pm Jeff texted me to share that the Senate had passed the Cash for Clunkers legislation I’ve been waiting on (read more here and here).

In an attempt to figure out which version of the bill actually passed, I contacted a “connected” friend via some late-night IMing, and she was able to help me find the final approved language on Thomas here. Luckily for me, the House version I blogged about before is the language that passed the Senate  – and that means we’re eligible for $4,500 for the busted Ford, as long as our new vehicle averages 19MPG or better (and yes, I already have an Excel spreadsheet).

Additionally, one of my favorite bits in the text reads, “Combination with other incentives permitted.”  Hear that?  “Permitted!”  That means in addition to the $4,500 credit I might be able to double up with some other “hookup” deal (either through work or well-connected friends).

Now it’s off to Obama’s desk and then into the implementation phase, which the bill specifies should take thirty days (meaning dealers should be ready administer the program in that amount of time post-Obama).  Thirty days then; thirty days for Sharaun and I to figure out what vehicle we want and how to outfit it.  Thirty days and Obama gets us a new car.

And, despite some shame, I’m ready for the handout.  Goodnight.

Allow me to explain.

I fear that my daughter has inherited some of my OCD tendencies.  See, she has some very ritualistic habits for a three year old: Needing to say “goodnight” and “I love you,” along with blowing just so many kisses, in a choreographed bedtime progression that’s repeated for a fixed number of volleys before she’s satisfied and starts to doze off; wanting her “covers flat,” which means that the blanket can have no wrinkles at all – no matter if it’s on top of her or she’s laying on it; not being able to tolerate a single speck of dirt or debris in her shoes without nearly losing it; giving up on food in a fit of frustration if it’s not assembled correctly (a sandwich that’s falling apart, for instance).  On and on the list goes…

No, I don’t think this any kind of real OCD, or even anything serious… rather I think it’s part of the peculiarities of being a three year-old.  Wanting familiarity, desiring consistency, exerting some degree of control over one’s world.  But, whatever it is, when it chooses to manifest, it can be a three-year-old tornado.  I mean, right now, Sharaun is back there trying to explain to Keaton that the past forty-five minutes of screaming, crying, and all-out worked up tantrumming has been for nothing more than “wrinkled covers.”  Somehow, I don’t think Keaton appreciates just how ridiculous that is – but I gotta hand it to Sharaun for at least trying.

Camping this weekend, she lost it over a breakfast burrito that was losing its guts and falling apart in general.  Beginning as a whiny, “It keeps falling apart!,” and eventually escalating into a near all out breakdown where she refused to it the thing unless it could be reassembled into a nice, neat, handheld breakfast.  I tried re-characterizing the pile of former-burrito on her plate as a regular style breakfast, but it was hopeless… she continued to try and rebuild the thing in futility, getting more and more frustrated and more and more vocal as she continued to fail.

Usually, when she obsesses over some minor thing like this and loses it, Sharaun and I try to use it as an example of how not everything always go your way.  I can remember saying, “Breakfast burritos are supposed to fall apart babe, that’s part of what makes them so good.”  The key seems to get her to remove her brain from the motivating hangup (in this case, taking away the burrito altogether) and then getting her to calm down and relax.  At that point we can typically re-introduce the hangup (be it a burrito, covers, dirty shoes, etc.) and usually get past it all.

But really, I don’t know… this whole parenting thing is a crapshoot.  I don’t read the books, I just do what seems right; even if it sometimes it feels like baking a delicate cake over a bonfire…  Wish us luck with our progeny, OK?

Oh, and lest you think I just bailed and gave tonight’s bedtime fit to my wife – we alternate on the nighttime Keaton duties, and tonight was her night.  And if that sounds like a copout, I’ll also note that we have an agreement that “owning” bedtime for the night means owning all of bedtime – whether it be a quick and easy one or some hellish protracted nightmare of one like tonight.  So, while I’m here for support and guidance, there’s some binding agreement (we may have actually drawn, signed, and notarized a contract… I can’t recall) that it’s up to her to get our sweet angel calmed down and off to sleep.

And, after everything, OCD tantrum and all, Keaton was asleep by the time I finished that last paragraph.  Good job Sharaun; good job.

Well… I need to go flatten my covers before I head to bed.  Goodnight y’all.

Tuesday night and I’m tuckered from some surprise post-work wakeboarding.  Now, it’s probably been four years since I last got up on a wakeboard, and back then it took me pretty much a whole season before I was able to do it consistently… so I was a little worried I’d not remember the mechanics of it all.

I did have some issues standing up on my first set of pulls, but did OK the second time around.  I’m still nothing much to watch on the water, but I sure had a great time – and it satisfies the “work out tonight” requirement nicely.

Sorry I didn’t write last night, didn’t get to it until too late and didn’t have much to say.  Tonight tho, let’s talk about stuff.

Sharaun, who doesn’t read much (not that I’m much better with my fickle on-and-off appetite for books), has apparently tuned into the latest female-groupthink brainwaves and has been addicted to reading those Twilight books.  I know, making fun of some subconscious ladies-only mental connection isn’t really fair; the books surely must be entertaining for so many to enjoy them, it’s just fun to point out that they are totally chick books.

Anyway, her newfound interest in vampires and teenage lust works well for me as she graciously allows me to listen to music (at a reasonable volume) as she reads.  Nice to get some non-TV tunes during the normal TV’s-always-on evening hours.  TV is way overrated, and I’ll take some tunes anytime over even my favorite shows.  Tonight I got to listen to the whole (A+B-side) of Jethro Tull’s long-winded but excellent prog masterpeice, Thick As A Brick.  Not often you can sit through that.  Go vampires.

Oh man I’m falling asleep sitting up.  Goodnight friends.