Bad news #1 is that as of December 2008 my right hamstring was still bothering me. For a quick recap... In December 2007 my doctor diagnosed a "grade 1" hamstring strain. Six weeks of PT I still had pain but was cleared to run. It never quite healed. My goal to run the Wild West 100K in August 2008 was nixed.
Michigan weather is simply amazing. Yesterday saw a heat wave reaching 40 degrees that melted much of the several inches of snow on the ground, but 40+ mph winds this morning will plummet the thermometer below 20 degrees later today. The weatherman called it a "flash freeze", which I guess means that we had a "flash thaw" over the weekend?
Recently we picked up Jan, our 54th foster dog, and she's been such a great dog that Amanda keeps saying stuff like "if we ever want 3 dogs, Jan should be the 3rd one". :)
To me she's not a "Jan" - she's too sweet and spunky for that calm-sounding name, so I've been calling her JJ. Not "J.J." but "JJ" because there's no initials - that second "J" doesn't stand for anything.
Taking advantage of the balmy weather yesterday, I loaded the entire pack - Haven, Beacon, JJ - into the car and all 14 of our feet embarked on a hike in warm, wet snow along the Flat River. JJ has been good enough that I let her run off leash; she's only the 3rd or 4th foster dog to earn such freedom! She wasn't perfect and tended to ignore my whistles occasionally, but she kept us in sight. Of course to her, "us" can mean just Haven and Beacon so sometimes the three of them were a few hundred yards away chasing some intriguing scent!
Eventually we slipped and slid our way up and over the steep hill that leads to "Beacon's Landing" - his favorite fetching spot on the river, a small sandy delta where a foot-wide stream drains into the 200-foot wide river. Immediately downstream of Beacon's Landing is "Haven's Cove", a backwater area of eddy flow caused by the delta. Lots of flotsam and other debris collects here and Haven loves to explore it at low water levels in hopes of finding a stinky fish carcass to eather eat or roll in.
In the winter Haven's Cove freezes over due to the still water and during this hike the ice was 2 inches thick, extending 15 feet into the river and running 60 feet along the shore. Standing at Beacon's Landing and waiting for JJ to catch up to us, Beacon began insisting that I throw him something to retrieve. I was scanning the ground for a stick when I heard a splash...
Looking up I saw JJ had fallen through the ice! She was at the far end of the ice shelf on Haven's Cove - she had walked too close to the edge and a 2-foot hemicircle of ice had broken away. JJ was in that hemicircle trying to climb back on to the ice with no success. Her front paws were hanging on with her rear in the water; occassionally a hind paw would appear on the ice edge but the river was about 3 feet deep there, so she had nothing to push off of.
At first I tried to coax JJ to exit the hemicircle and swim upstream around the ice shelf - there's almost zero current in Haven's Cove - but JJ apparently doesn't have enough labrador retriever in her genes to give her such instincts. She wasn't panicked but she was intent on climbing out, which she couldn't do without help.
Haven seemed to realize this - as soon as we saw JJ in the water, Haven went running out onto the ice right up to JJ, putting her nose right next to JJ's. How kind! If only Haven had thought to grab JJ's collar and haul her out, but Haven apparently was only intending to provide moral support. :)
JJ was about 12 feet from shore, a shoreline that's steep and covered in woody shrubs so I wasn't going to reach her from dry land. I also didn't want to wade through a waist-deep, ice-cold river along the entire 60-foot ice shelf to get there. I decided to press my luck by walking out onto the ice shelf.
It was pretty solid, but obviously thinning out toward it's edge. Beacon joined me when I set foot onto the ice, and Haven got excited and ran over to Beacon... and slid right past him! Yes Haven, ice is slippery. The two of them must've figured I had things under control as they ran back to Beacon's Landing.
I managed to get about 6 feet away from JJ before my weight pushed the outer edge of the ice just below the surface and water began to flow onto the ice. Rats, I couldn't get any closer! How was I going to help JJ out of the water? I pulled the leash out of my pocket - I could make a "lasso" and toss it over her head, giving enough of a pull that her back paws could push her out.
As I was preparing to toss the leash, Haven and Beacon came running out onto the ice to see what I was up to, coming all the way out right next to me. I weigh almost 200 lbs and the ice barely supported me, but add in 140 pounds of pooch and guess what? The ice breaks!
I fell through the ice and verified that the water was indeed waist deep. Yow, was it cold! Haven fell in right next to me but Beacon was on the safe side of the crack, still standing up on the ice. JJ was now in front of me in the water so I picked her up and placed her on the ice and she ran for shore. Then I turned and helped Haven climb back onto the shelf - she's a pretty good swimmer and comfortable in the river, but she wasn't too thrilled to be dog-paddling in icy water!
As I helped Haven I heard a splash behind me... Beacon! The silly boy had jumped into the river and was swimming back to me with a large chunk of ice in his mouth! He saw pieces of ice from my fall-through floating in the river and he leapt in to retrieve them. However, he couldn't climb out so I then had to help him back onto the ice shelf but he never let go of his prize.
Naturally if I fall through the ice with three dogs, I'm the last one out! They're back on shore at Beacon's Landing, shaking off some of the chilly water while I'm forced to make that trek that I opted against earlier - a long wade in chilling, waist-deep water to circumnavigate the ice shelf at Haven's Cove.
Back near shore I stepped on the ice edge trying to break off a chunk, but lo and behold nearly the entire shelf cracked free! A huge 10x50 foot island of ice floated out into the river, but rather than heading downstream is simply spun. The backwater eddys were evident as the upstream end of the ice floe rotated out into the river and downstream, while the downstream end actually moved upstream. It did this twice before I left, so who knows if it ever drifted downstream or just kept spinning there! Pretty cool stuff for a nature and science geek.
By the time I stepped on to dry land my feet were almost numb, but otherwise I felt pretty good. The dogs were noticeably cold from their bouncy behavior, but they weren't shivering or stressed out; in fact they were already exploring the woods while awaiting my return. Once I arrived, however, Beacon began trying to lead us back to the car - he was ready to go home. He was right, of course - we'd been out for half an hour and had a 15 minute hike back to the parking area so no need to hang around in wet clothes (or fur) when there's snow on the ground, even in a Michigan heat wave.
I wish I'd thought to get some photos of the ice shelf, but perhaps it was all the best that I had the camera and my cell phone stashed away in double ziploc bags. They both survived the dunking - luckily I took such precautions despite no intention of getting wet. Running in the woods with three dogs? Anything can happen! What a blast.
Part 1 explained what happened; Part 2 will try to explain why it happened.
It took me a while to figure this out and still, I can't guarantee that this is 100% accurate. Nevertheless I'm pretty sure this is why the car ultimately lost control and rolled over. It bugs me because I'm a fairly conservative poor-weather driver and the accident occurred on a straightaway - it's something I would've never imagined could happen in an AWD vehicle but I think the Honda Pilot's AWD was part of the problem...
Initial conditions:
- two-lane state highway
- straight stretch of road
- 35 degrees and snowing
- 2" unplowed snow created a "two-track" effect
- driving 40-45 mph
- going east with a 20-30 mph NE wind (left quartering headwind)
- nobody in front or behind in our lane
- one car in the oncoming lane
1. Oncoming car passes, causing an air draft that combined with the already strong crosswind, nudges our car toward the shoulder.
2. I steer slightly to the left and take my foot off the pedal, trying to re-center the car in our lane.
3. The front wheels begin to "plow" as our car enters the snowy parts of the "two track".
4. Our car starts to weather-vane into the quartering headwind; i.e. the back end is moving closer to the shoulder than the front end.
5. Sensitive to a possible oversteer condition, I return the steering wheel to neutral and lightly step on the gas. I intended to "drive" back into the snow-less two-track and then straighten out the car there, where there was more traction.
6. The back end begins to fishtail toward the shoulder, catching me by surprise. It was only later that I figured this out: The Honda Pilot AWD system operates in FWD (front wheel drive) but will direct power to the rear wheels when the front wheels start slipping. When I straightened the wheel and applied some power, the fronts were already plowing so power was directed to the rears. However, due to the weather-vane effect there was swing momentum on the back end and with the rear tires already in snow they must've slipped, causing a fishtail.
7. Still I wasn't too concerned; the front wheels hit the dry two-track and regained traction, pulling us back into the center of the lane.
8. I steered a bit to the right, intending to straighten out the car and I thought that this minor event was all but over.
9. Here's where I made my mistake: I kept my foot on the accelerator, assuming that the front wheels on dry pavement would pull the car into alignment. I didn't realize that the rear wheels had been spinning - I'm not sure when the Pilot's AWD reverts back to FWD, but since it doesn't have traction control or stability control, it's not as "intelligent" as a more modern system. The rear wheels were probably still spinning as I steered right and the front wheels caught dry pavement, allowing the rear end to fishtail strongly to the left.
10. The back end is now across the center line to the left; I assumed that I hadn't centered the steering wheel - turning it too far to the right in step 8, so I turned it to the left thinking that I was centering the wheels. In hindsight I had centered it in step 8, so when I turned it left here I inadvertently set us up for an oversteer.
11. With the car somewhere around 45 degrees sideways, turning the front wheels pointed them along the direction of the road. Since they were still on pavement and still under power, they tried to pull the back end back toward center.
12. Mistake #2: I took my foot off the gas, but too late. The back end had already started swinging back to the right by the time I removed power from the wheels. Coupled with the strong crosswind, the back end swung severely to the right.
13. The back end swings almost all the way around, not quite 180 degrees - we were coasting backwards in our lane but with the back end a bit closer to the shoulder than the front.
14. The wind continues to push, causing the car to drift onto, and off of, the shoulder.
15. This wouldn't be so bad in most places, but we happened to go off the road at a 12-foot embankment with a 45-degree slope. I was hoping we'd just coast along the slope at an oblique angle and come to a nice stop when it flattened out...
16. Alas, the back left corner of the car dug into the tall grass and soft dirt, stopping our rearward movement rather abruptly.
17. We still had some kinetic energy that had to dissipate somewhere, so the car began to roll. It wasn't perfectly sideways - when the rear left corner dug in, the car pivoted a bit around that corner and the resulting roll was somewhat back-left-bumper to front-right-windshield as we rolled down the slope, hence the damage on the passenger side of the front roof.
None of this would've happened if I had better understood how the AWD would react, and it's a good case for why an AWD without traction control can be confusing. Amanda's Subaru Forester has full-time AWD where all four wheels are getting 25% of the engine's power under normal conditions so when one wheel begins to slip, it's more predictable and controllable.
Yet most AWD systems are FWD in normal conditions, meaning that when wheels slip it's hard to conceptualize what will happen next. These systems are mostly meant for accelerating from a stop in slippery conditions, not maintaining control, which is why most of them come with traction control these days. My 2003 Honda Pilot didn't have it, but I believe all Pilots since 2006 have the more advanced AWD systems.
Last Sunday Amanda and I set out for my Grandma's to eat our third Thanksgiving dinner within four days. However the real turkey turned out to be me! Grandma lives about 20 miles away but we only made it one mile...
Half an hour before we left it began to snow but the temperature was still holding at 35 degrees. Heading out of the driveway I stepped on the brakes to do a slipperiness test and yep, it was slick. Turning onto the two-lane state highway I took it slow, going 10-15 mph below the 55 mph speed limit on the unplowed road.
Still too fast, apparently. Barely one mile departed on our trip on a arrow-straight stretch of road, our car (a 2003 Honda Pilot) began to fishtail. Despite my attempts to hold the car steady in hopes of riding out the oscillations, the amplitude of each swing of the rear end progressively increased.
Right, left, right, then a big 180-degree swing to the left had us going down the road backwards! Looking out my driver's side window I saw us approach the edge of the road where a 45-degree, 12-foot downward slope awaited. I called out to Amanda "Hang on, we're gonna roll!" but secretly I hoped that the car, still riding backwards, would merely drive itself diagonally across the embankment.
Strangely - but not surprisingly if you know me - I felt extremely calm during the event. In high-pressure, high-action situations for whatever reason I don't panic. I simply observe and react, as if the world has just slowed down a few ticks and my logical reasoning deploys itself at a lightning-fast subconscious level.
My warning to Amanda was accurate. The left rear dug into the weeds and soft ground and the car began its roll onto the driver's side. Amanda screamed just like she did on our first roller coaster ride together years ago!
My eyes focused out the windshield I watched the sky roll around and felt my head clunk the B-pillar but instantly I knew it was a harmless knock.
The impact was harder when the roof hit the ground but I felt nothing, not even the seatbelt. Later I would realize that the minor bruises on my knees probably happened at this point. I noticed that the windshield shattered but remained intact and in place.
The roll onto the passenger's side was quite mild, and then slowly but somewhat jarringly the car plunked back onto its wheels and the accident was over.
I felt 100% OK and after double-checking for a split-second I concluded that I was unhurt. I looked over to Amanda and asked if she was OK and she muttered "Yeah, I guess" but didn't seem convinced. Then she says "I have blood coming from somewhere!" and I see blood on her right hand. Quickly I check her head and face but seeing nothing, I figure it was a cut finger from the shattered passenger's window. Luckily that's all it was.
Amanda had been on the phone with her mom at the time of the accident so I asked her if she were still connected. Amanda retrieves her phone from the floor and says "No, it hung up" so I urged her "You better call them back!" Even though we called back within a minute or two, her parents later would say that it felt like our callback took days!
For good reason - here's what Amanda's mom heard on her end of the phone:
Amanda: "Hold on a sec, there's a problem on the road..."
[pause]
Andrew: [in the background] "Hang on, we're gonna roll!"
Amanda: [SCREAM]
[call disconnects]
Thanks to our networked world Amanda's mom probably suffered the worst injury despite being over 100 miles away!
I shut off the engine and we got out - amazingly our doors opened just fine. Already there were four good samaritans checking on us! Two drivers and two neighbors, including the one who's field we ended up in. I assure them we're OK and the drivers began to leave.
Then a woman comes running up to me on the verge of hysteria and doing all she can to not break down sobbing. She explains that she had just passed us in the oncoming direction and then looked into the rearview mirror to see our car flipping over. She was certain we were dead - I guess the roll looked worse than it felt!
Although Amanda did suffer some injuries - mainly a mild concussion, but also some rather impressive bruises from the seatbelt and various other locations. My worst injury was a moderately strained rib cage but Amanda got the brunt of the impact - just the the photos below and it's easy to see why.
The homeowners were super nice and let us sit in their house while we waited and they even gave Amanda a bandaid for her finger. After being put on hold several times by Allstate's roadside assistance (yeah, thanks for the timely help... not) they finally sent out a tow truck. The guy was able to drive my car right up to the wrecker! I was surprised that it could drive at all, especially after getting a closer look at the windshield and seeing the extent of the damage.
My parents, brother and his wife arrived - they, too, were on their way to Grandma's and diverted to us when I called about the crash. They drove Amanda back home while I waited... and waited...
The police took forever to arrive. Not initially - within five minutes of the accident the Ionia county sherriff showed up but we were literally 100 yards short of the county line. Not that he wouldn't have helped if we were hurt, but there was a multiple-injury accident that he was heading to so he called the Lowell city police for us.
About 10-15 minutes later a Lowell officer arrives and guess what, we're just outside the city limits. He explains that he gladly would've handled our accident except that the Michigan state police called him off! Yep, the state troopers had the jurisdiction on this state highway and rather than elect to delegate to Lowell, they insisted on taking our case. The Lowell officer drove off and we waited for the Michigan trooper who was "on his way".
45 minutes later he finally arrives! The tow truck driver had to wait, too - everything was ready to go except for the police. I know it was a busy time with several accidents due to the bizarre weather but Lowell was more than willing to help. I just don't get it.
Anyway the cop sends me off with a "too fast for conditions" ticket because, he explained: "Obviously you lost control, so you were going too fast." Thank you Captain Obvious!
Actually it wasn't nearly so obvious. I was frustrated for the rest of the day trying to figure out exactly why we crashed - after all, I was well below the speed limit, the road was straight, and I wasn't doing anything stupid. After much rumination I think I now have it figured out, but I'll save that for Part 2 of this recap.
As your reward for reading all the way to the end, here are photos I took of the car today as it sits in the wrecker yard waiting for the insurance adjuster to declare its fate.
It was last October that I injured my right hamstring. I took some time off from running but on Thanksgiving day 2007 I went for a run only to return with my leg more sore than ever, so I went to the doctor.
Both the primary doctor and the physical trainer diagnosed the injury as a "grade 1" hamstring strain: there was no acute injury, no bruising and no palpable tears.
After a month of therapy the PT was satisfied that I was almost fully healed and he cleared me to go running again, albeit it slowly. I still couldn't run a moderate pace without pain but the PT was certain that my hamstring was just sore, not injured. During treatment he was amazed at the strength in my leg, so I figured all was good.
It hasn't turned out that way. Although I've managed to log 255 miles so far this year that's a far cry from the 1018 that I ran in 2007, the latter which includes zero miles in December. In fact I was averaging about 100 miles per month in 2007 before the injury compared to 23/mo this year.
In part that's due to being cautious with the leg - I took up inline skating and added more cycling to reduce the impact stress on the hamstring. But it's also due to the hamstring itself. While I can run without pain for up to 3 miles, my hammy still gets sore during a run if I go faster than a 9:00 pace or if I exceed 3 miles; plus, it gets mildly sore after a run of any distance.
It's certainly better than a year ago, but shouldn't it be healed by now? My doctor seems to agree. When I saw him last week we were talking about his own injury - last year he ruptured his achilles tendon playing basketball almost the same time that my hamstring acted up. He's back to playing basketball although less than 100%, but when we considered that my "grade 1" strain is still limiting me after the same recovery time, it's a bit concerning.
So now I have an appointment with an orthopaedist in a couple weeks to see if there's something else going on, and I've pretty much shut down my running again. Yeah, I'm a bit bummed but the worst part is that with winter here, inline skating and cycling are no longer options. I'm finally starting to notice a significant decrease in endurance when I go hiking with the dogs, and my resting heart rate is now 64 instead of the "in shape" 54 and the 57 that it's been this summer.
All I can think to do is try swimming. Although it's indoors, it sure beats sitting on a stationary bike. Since the local health club offers monthly rates that are reasonable, I'm planning to start swimming in December and if I need any rehab from the ortho, the club will have equipment there I could use, too.
One problem: I'm not a swimmer! Sure I *can* swim but I've never sustained a continuous swim for longer than a couple minutes. Treading water I can do of course, but boy is it hard to breathe doing a front crawl! I can never get the timing right. Another issue is goggles - I have 20/400 vision without contacts and I'd like to wear them in the pool if possible, but past experience with goggles has been that they leak.
Are there any swimmers out there who can give me some advice?
With luck I'll maintain my fitness in the water and by the time spring rolls around, I can get out onto the roads and trails again!
Everyone knows why there's this $700 billion elephant tiptoeing around our economy, but nobody seems to know what to do with it. Lately folks are getting alarmed that the Big Three automakers - GM, Ford, Chrysler - are just a few months away from bankruptcy and begging for their hunk of elephant hide.
What really irks me are the calls for "economic darwinism" i.e. letting the car companies go bankrupt because they failed to adapt to a changing market.
While I'm quick to agree that the Big Three have been slogging around their in own graveyard for years, at least they didn't dig their own graves and dare others to push them into it. Who would be so crazy as to dance on the edge of burial? How about the "Failing Five": Bear Sterns, Merrill Lynch, Lehman Brothers, AIG, Washington Mutual...
Why would we be so quick to bail out financial companies on Wall Street but allow Motor City to collapse? Consider this: General Motors employs as many people as all five of the above financial companies combined. Add Ford and Chrysler to the mix and it's nearly double. An auto industry expert on NPR last week estimated that including suppliers, the bankruptcy of the Big Three could cost an even bigger "three": 3 million jobs.
I've been critical of the Big Three since the early 1990s when it was clear to me that they were playing follow the leader with Honda and Toyota, banking on marketing campaigns and "buy American" sentiment to maintain an appearance of competitiveness.
However, the auto companies deserve some credit for remaining solvent in an economy that hits their products harder than just about anyone's, a financial crisis that happened after fuel prices hit record highs. Despite those two huge hammers to the grills of the Big Three, they're telling us that they won't go bankrupt for a few more months if things don't improve.
Meanwhile those Failing Five financial companies couldn't even survive a few days when things began to turn sour. They were recklessly living on the edge of their self-dug graves, boasting of their talent until they fell in, screaming for help all the way. In a flash Congress was there to bail them out.
The automakers could've pushed themselves closer to the limit with last-ditch marketing campaigns or sales incentives, but they didn't. While the Big Three blamed labor unions for some of their problems, they also fought those unions whenever possible, knowing that long-term survival was at stake.
Meanwhile, the Failing Five blamed over-zealous home buyers and builders yet continued to cater to their mortgage-hungry wallets.
If we see fit to bail out Wall Street, then it has to also be correct to bail out Motor City as well. If our economy can't withstand the complete atrophy of our credit system, neither can it survive the complete atophy of our manufacturing knowledge base.
While I believe that manufacturing is "old tech" as a core business model, there's still room for "high tech" applications on the process and research side that could be exported to countries that still rely on manufacturing. If the Big Three go belly up, that's 3 million workers with nowhere else to go - it could create a permanent increase in unemployment rate. We need those people to remain employed so that they may adapt and evolve as their companies also need to do.
If we don't bail out the auto industry, we might as well keep that $700 billion in the Treasury and simply let economic depression run its course. Let's not reward the financial industry for being the least responsible component of our national economy by limiting our bailout money exclusively to them.
Of course if we send that elephant marching to Detroit, then I'm sure Boeing will be next in line begging to do the elephant walk... Anyone else want to join in?
A few days ago Lisa wrote about choosing her "voting outfit", explaining a desire to dress according to the significance of her vote and the election. It was a new and interesting thought and in part, it inspired me to be conscious of my outfit this morning.
Imagine this: it's Michigan, it's November, it's pitch dark outside, and it's 50 degrees!
Taking advantage of the weather I decided to run to Lowell city hall to vote! In my own way, I dressed for the occasion wearing the same outfit that I wore for Bailey's Doggie Dash, minus the hat and gloves (and the dog!)
City hall is only half a mile from home but I took a slight scenic detour to enjoy the weather and the remaining brown shades of fall leaves. After voting I ran home for a total of 2.1 miles. Considering that I arrived at about 06:50 Eastern Time, I may well have been the country's first voter who ran to and from the polling booth!
Lowell has always conducted smooth elections, one of the benefits of small town living. In past elections I've arrived at 7:15 and was the 15th or so voter in my precinct. Today when Amanda and I got in line (Amanda drove and met me at city hall) I remarked to her that I estimated about 50 people in line in front of us.
Only 20 minutes later I was sliding my ballot into the machine, which reported back to me that I was voter #51... Am I good or what? My estimate was right on! :)
The coolest thing about voting this morning was that despite 50 folks crowded into a small hallway, everyone was friendly, helpful, and cheerful. There we were, roughly half of us about to "officially disagree" with the other half via our ballots, yet we were all neighbors first and Democrats or Republicans somewhere further down the priority list.
My dad has boasted of (and subsequently often playfully ridiculed for) his high school strategy for popularity: tell jokes. He discovered that even if only 1 in 10 jokes are actually funny, people will consider you a fun person to be around. Whenever someone tells a bad joke, we say "that was one of dad's other nine". :)
The relevance of this is that standing in line waiting to enter the doorway into the room full of voting booths, it reminded me of elementary school when some rooms were converted into "haunted houses" for Halloween - we were all standing there eagerly waiting our turn to enter this mysterious and magical area.
It must've been dad's genes - for some reason I expressed my observation aloud. To my surprise, everyone around me in line busted out into laughter! I hadn't thought it was that funny of a comment, but maybe it helped alleviate some of the inherent tension of the voting process by evoking a sub-consciously uncanny parody of our situation.
After all, there's an element of spookiness because the whole process is necessarily secretive. Yet we all are eager to participate, sneaking into our walled-off booth, inscribing our coded opinions, stealing glances at friendly strangers who may or may not agree with each other, and walking out into the real world to start a regular day at the office.
Boo! :)
Dreams are rarely run-of-the-mill and last night was no exception, but since I remembered so much detail this time I thought I'd write it down and share the zaniness. For those who were "victims" of my earlier dream about Vox folks, don't worry, you're only spectators this time. :)
It begins as I'm driving home in Amanda's Subaru Forester and the usually-paved road becomes increasingly rugged until it's all rutted dirt overgrown with weeds, yet there's still steady traffic. At the top of a hill I try to turn left but it seems as if the car got tangled in the weeds! I shift to neutral, drift backward, and then engage 1st gear hoping to muscle through. No luck - the wheels have traction but the engine doesn't have enough power; I'm dumbfounded that weeds could hold back a car like that.
By now I'm holding up traffic so I exit the car to investigate, only to discover that an electric cable is caught on the undercarriage! No wonder I couldn't break free. I walk up to the car behind me and ask the guy if he has any wire cutters. He opens the center storage console of his car and offers me a selection of a half-dozen styles of snipping tools! I pick one out, put on my winter gloves to avoid electrocution, and cut the cable hoping that I can drive away before the nearby apartment complex figures out what (or who) caused them to lose power.
The scene cuts to Thanksgiving dinner at my paternal grandparents' house - although everyone is from "present day" my grandpa (who died in 1998 in real life) is there, too. All of my family - brothers, parents, cousins, aunts, uncles - are there and we're just hanging out when the doorbell rings. I answer the front door and find a mother and her 10-year-old son, who say that they're here for dinner. I explain that they can come in but that they have to walk around to the back of the house and enter through the garage.
Grandpa then asks who they are. "I don't know, but they said they're here for dinner" was my reply. I knew that he and grandma had invited local boy scouts and girl scouts to join us for dinner, but grandpa explains to me that only certain scouts were allowed and I was supposed to ask their qualifications. I reasoned to grandpa that they wouldn't be here if they weren't qualified because otherwise they wouldn't have received an invite, but it's a moot point as it turns out the boy is one of the ones who were invited.
The boy, not knowing anyone, just stands around until my brother Eric asks him if he likes video games. Of course he does, so Eric shows him how to play Super Mario Brothers on Nintendo and soon all of us cousins are taking turns playing competitively. Finally we all quit and move on to board games when cousin Gabe starts to dominate the high score list.
[Real life note: Our first video game growing up was Super Mario Bros and Eric was the first one to win the whole thing; in fact he outplayed Ryan and I at every video game. Gabe, as the legend goes, had the highest Tetris score among his entire dorm and is probably the only person to get a higher score in Tetris than Eric.]
Another boy, 8 years old, arrives with his parents. Someone asks what he enjoys and he mumbles "stuffed animals..." My brother Ryan jumps up and says "Come on, let me show you all about them" and they run upstairs where all of the plush toys are kept.
[Real life note: As kids, Ryan was the sucker for cute plush animals. Eric and I had a dozen or so each but Ryan must've had 50, most of them smaller than a softball. Whenever he saw a small, cute stuffed animal in a store he'd say "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" and start counting his allowance money.]
The last of the scouts arrives, a 12-year-old girl, right before dinner starts. After eating we go back to playing various video games, board games; or for Ryan and the little boy, playing with stuff animals. I tried to play Nintendo with Gabe but after waiting 15 minutes he's still on his first life (trying to set a record by collecting every single coin in the game, no less) so I decide to walk around. As I leave I hear the girl asking Gabe if he's seen the Aliens or Predator movies, but he's too busy concentrating to answer.
I watch the girl as she walks over to Ryan and the boy and she asks them about Aliens and Predator, but the boy looks scared and Ryan says that she shouldn't talk about such scary movies in the presence of a young kid. She walks away as Ryan continues to explain to the little boy how the stuffed animals could gang up and defeat any aliens or predators.
I mosey over to the board game where all of my cousins plus Eric are playing a raucous game of Money! Money! Money!, yet also somehow involving a deck of playing cards. Eric and Kevin seem to be exclaiming "Dang!" after every hand and have almost no money. Eventually I realize that the gals - Betsy, Kerry, Ana, Adrienne - are ganging up on the guys - Pat, Kevin, Eric - except for being nice to Eric's new 10-year-old pal who doesn't really know how to play anyway. As I walk around behind everyone to see the cards in their hand, I realize that Pat has the gals fooled. They *think* he's losing as badly as Eric and Kevin are, but he's bluffing and building up a "shoot the moon" type of hand.
[Real life note: We played Money! Money! Money! a lot when we were younger, and as teens we played the physical card game Spoons were Eric and Kerry infamously battled over the last spoon as if it were an NFL fumble. Nowadays we still play Euchre, Crazy Cards, and other games but we might be a bit old for Spoons!]
Later on everyone gathers in the family room (somehow we all fit comfortably) to watch the Detroit Lions. I'm lying on the floor next to the 12-year-old girl so I say to her "Why do you ask about Aliens and Predator?" to which she exclaims "That's my favorite movie!" Since there have been a few of them, I ask her which one. "You actually know that there are more than one?" Come to find out that none of this girl's friends know anything about those movies (probably because they're 12-year-old girls!) and I'm finding it rather odd that this girl scout is such a huge fan.
Then in a weird, poltergeist kind of way, she explains to me that I should understand her. She begins drawing with her finger on the carpet and when she does, red lines appear on the TV similar to John Madden's telestrator! She draws a smiley face on the TV and scrawls "Aliens rock!" but nobody else appears to notice. The girl explains that I'm the only one who can see it - "It's just like The Shining" she says. Stunned, I trace an drawing on the carpet of a dog piloting a flying saucer and sure enough, it appears on the TV screen but nobody sees it except for the girl.
Eventually the Lions lose the game and it's time for everyone to go for a tractor ride. Grandpa drives his green John Deere loader towing a wagon with all of the "adults" (i.e. parents) who want a shorter, slower ride. Kevin drives his dad's red International Farmall pulling a wagon full of us "kids" for a longer, wilder ride. My dad joins us to ensure we stay safe while Uncle Denny (Kevin's dad) joins us to ensure Kevin doesn't damage the tractor.
Along the way we plan to drop off the scouts but soon we encounter Amy Poehler in the middle of a dirt road intersection! She asks for a ride to her house, pointing along one of the roads. We tell her that we're headed in the opposite direction and she begs "but it's not that far!" We laugh and explain that we're not giving her a tractor ride all the way to New York. Finally she relents, but then hops in the wagon and says that she'll just go where we're going.
We were supposed to drop off the three scouts to their homes, but first Kevin takes us to a huge hill of dirt next to a gravel pit. Kerry explains that it's the highest point in the county and somehow we decide to all race each other to the top.
[Real life note: This reminds me of when Ana, Adrienne and I climbed the bluff at Sleeping Bear Dunes.]
I'm the first one to reach the summit and there I spot a Giant River Otter! It's not full grown but still about 50 pounds, and it seems a bit sick and deranged. I try to shoo it down the hill before the others get up there, afraid that it might bite one of the kids. However, it's a persistent little bugger - every time I push it with my foot it tries to grab my leg with its hands. Eventually the kids reach the top and when the otter moves towards them, I finally get a hold of it by the scruff but it somehow grabs my arm as well and I can't shake it off!
Now I'm walking around with an otter hanging off my arm trying to keep my distance from the curious kids while also trying to get someone to help me get the otter off. Eric won't come near - he doesn't want to end up smelling like an otter. Ryan refuses because of the claws. My dad is afraid of getting rabies.
Finally Kevin says "Look, it's just an otter" and he grabs one of the otter's arms. The otter looks confused and I'm able to pull my arm away, and Kevin quickly flings the otter over the edge down the side of the hill. It lands with a thud partway down and doesn't move, and I'm concerned that Kevin may have killed it, but then I wonder if it's laughing at us when I see milk coming out its nose!
I resolve to go check on the otter once we all go back to the wagon - when everyone starts hiking back down the hill I hang behind, and when they're out of sight I quickly run down to the otter... it's gone! Thankful that it appears to have survived, I dash around the side of the hill to catch up with the group.
The End
...is what Vox and I have in common! *
Haven and I ran our fourth Bailey's Doggie Dash 5K a couple weekends ago, finishing with our slowest time ever. Don't worry, we had a lot of fun - the slowness was expected since I've done barely any running lately. The hamstring is feeling much better - and caused no problems at the Doggie Dash - so I've been limiting my running frequency to "just enough to keep me sane" levels.
The race report is over on my other blog. Long ago I wrote about wanting to combine my article-type posts onto one blog rather than a few, which I've done there on Blogger but I've been rather lazy about getting the archives updated. I'm continuing to use Vox as my "personal" blog (not that my other one is "professional" by any means) for fun stories, opinions, family stuff, etc.
The photo above is one of my favorites from this year's Doggie Dash but which I didn't include on the other blog. It seems to have a more calm, reflective tone to it compared to the other shots of Haven and I during the race. Of course if you like great photos of dogs and fall colors, check out Amanda's Flickr album of the Doggie Dash.
* Seriously, is it just me or has Vox been occasionally going retro - as in dial-up speed - in the past few weeks?
The top two stories on the local west Michigan news Monday evening were these:
2) United Solar Ovonic announced that they will open a new plant near Battle Creek, adding 700 jobs.
Why is this so symbolic?
-- Both GM and Uni-Solar are based in southeast Michigan.
-- It takes many small companies to replace the economic impact of a few large corporations.
-- The GM plant is a major source of truck parts. Trucks don't sell like they used to.
-- Uni-Solar makes commercial and residential solar panels, which have a nice sales trend.
-- Metal stamping is low-tech no matter how many "robot" contraptions do the work.
-- Solar cell manufacturing, while still manufacturing, is high tech.
-- The average wage of the new Uni-Solar jobs will be $14-15 per hour.
-- The average worker at the GM plant is 50 years old. I couldn't find wage info there but surely it tops $15/hr.
-- WOOD-TV devoted the first 5-10 minutes of their evening broadcast to the GM plant closing.
-- WOOD-TV devoted about 30 seconds of the same newscast to cover the Uni-Solar plant opening.
What does this mean for the future of Michigan? I can see it now...
By 2050 Uni-Solar will be one of the "big three" solar energy companies and Michigan is the solar capital of the world. It's not ironic because global warming has moved the "sun belt" to the Great Lakes region and we don't get much snow anymore. Amanda and I will have long since moved to one of the many condo retirement communities in Vancouver after selling our house a few years prior for $1M, kicking ourselves because it's now worth $10M. People in Silicon Valley can't believe that their houses are worth the same as what they paid for them in 2005.
By 2090 there will be settlements in Earth orbit as well as on the surface of the moon and Mars, where solar is much more efficient; the space transport industry is booming. Michigan lawmakers, under pressure from the solar industry, fight to keep spaceports out of the state. College grads flock to Wasilla, Alaska (population 20 million - the mayor is a regular presidential candidate) to find work in the extra-terrestrial construction industry. 95% of Michigan's 11,000 inland lakes are privately owned by retirees from the USW (United Solar Workers).
By 2130 scientists discover weather-altering technology and in their efforts to "fix" global warming they mis-calculated and Michigan gets snow or rain 340 days a year. Coupled with the development of cold fusion, solar energy is obselete and Michigan's economy begins to crumble. USW workers near retirement are bankrupt; the national bank (private banks never did survive that bailout that we teach schoolkids about) forecloses on those private lakes and sells all of the water in them to Alaska. Because global warming never existed in Alaska the weather fixes weren't funded for them, so the state is now the world's largest desert.
By 2170 Amanda and I are long gone, but we willed our estate to our dogs - by this time dogs and cats are recognized as sentient beings and are given rights of citizenship. One of them decides to start a blog on the TelePathWay - people say it's the biggest thing since the WorldWideWeb - and writes about how Michigan closed one of its last solar factories but opened a new hub for the TPW...
