Odds and Sods
Well, this morning was off to SUCH a glorious start. I actually got down to the bus stop at Farwell and Sheridan a little early and was waiting for the bus, which I just glimpsed making its way towards us a few blocks away, when:
A fire apparently broke out in a building across the street. Believe me, this picture doesn't even begin to do justice to the firepower that was called out for this one. Within 10 seconds, five fire trucks, three police cars and two ambulances appeared on the scene. Another 10 seconds saw at least three more fire trucks and two more ambulances. And the police cars began parking across the intersections.
Diagonally.
The intersections through which traffic, including my bus, were to travel. Of course, the police don't feel the need to explain what's going on--they apparently think their uniform and their swagger are sufficient. But sadly, that didn't get my bus there any faster, and in fact, it detoured down a side street before it even got to us, so I and the rest of my groggy, grumpy, disoriented fellow commuters stumped off to the nearest L station (Loyola) three blocks away. I got on my cell immediately and called the office and left a message (nobody was there yet), just so they knew what was going on (because who knows how long the train was going to take at this rate?).
And all this over a freaking kitchen fire. A person was injured, so it's good that there was a rescue team there, but I couldn't help thinking: what happens if there's a BIG-ASS fire somewhere else and they're all putting out a bacon grease fire over the 7-11?
(I just ooze compassion--isn't it charming?)
I ended up getting to work exactly on time, but I'm usually at least 15 minutes early, and the lack of "padding time" has left me nice and grumpy.
******************
I just got my certificate of title in the mail this week for my car. The car is currently in storage down in my hometown. It looks nothing like the one pictured here (at least, not anymore), but it did once, except it was blue.
Anyway, it dawned on me the other day that I didn't have the keys to it on my keyring anymore since I've been driving the Momibu. And I don't know where they are.
Shit.
Fortunately, I do have a spare set, but there's a problem: the door key is not mine. A few years ago when I got my oil changed at the Firestone on Clark and Peterson, they somehow put the wrong key on my ring. I went in to the office and explained that it wasn't my key, but they stubbornly swore that it was the same key that was on the ring when I brought the car in. Even my demonstrating to them that it didn't fit the lock wasn't enough to convince the probably-undocumented workers that it was the wrong one. Fortunately, the door was unlocked, and since the ignition key was at least mine, I finally got tired of arguing, started the car and peeled out in a cloud of gravel and disgust. That set HAD been my main set--since I had another, it then became the spare set (for obvious reasons).
So you see my problem now--I no longer have an original key to fit my door--or my trunk. This will be a problem when I go to open the door next time I want to start it, not to mention sell it. I called the Chevy dealer in Chillicothe and explained my problem and they said that there is a man who fits keys, but he won't be in this Saturday (when I'm down there). He usually is, though, so I said I'd call again in a few weeks when I'm coming down (which will be April 12, I guess). I'll also have to bring some bolt-cutters to get into the storage unit, because I can't remember the combination to my lock.
Things are just going swimmingly here. Oh well--it gives me lots of extra time to look for the original keys...I feel sure that they're around my apartment somewhere.
***************************
The Tribune reports that radio host Steve Dahl has almost 2 million air miles from flying so much. There's a link posted on a sidebar that asks us to vote on whether he's "addicted to travel" (because it's not official until John Q. Blowhard votes).
Who gives a shit? Wherever he flies off to, he'll still look like Madalyn O'Hair...
***************************
I need more coffee. NOW.
A fire apparently broke out in a building across the street. Believe me, this picture doesn't even begin to do justice to the firepower that was called out for this one. Within 10 seconds, five fire trucks, three police cars and two ambulances appeared on the scene. Another 10 seconds saw at least three more fire trucks and two more ambulances. And the police cars began parking across the intersections.
Diagonally.
The intersections through which traffic, including my bus, were to travel. Of course, the police don't feel the need to explain what's going on--they apparently think their uniform and their swagger are sufficient. But sadly, that didn't get my bus there any faster, and in fact, it detoured down a side street before it even got to us, so I and the rest of my groggy, grumpy, disoriented fellow commuters stumped off to the nearest L station (Loyola) three blocks away. I got on my cell immediately and called the office and left a message (nobody was there yet), just so they knew what was going on (because who knows how long the train was going to take at this rate?).
And all this over a freaking kitchen fire. A person was injured, so it's good that there was a rescue team there, but I couldn't help thinking: what happens if there's a BIG-ASS fire somewhere else and they're all putting out a bacon grease fire over the 7-11?
(I just ooze compassion--isn't it charming?)
I ended up getting to work exactly on time, but I'm usually at least 15 minutes early, and the lack of "padding time" has left me nice and grumpy.
******************
I just got my certificate of title in the mail this week for my car. The car is currently in storage down in my hometown. It looks nothing like the one pictured here (at least, not anymore), but it did once, except it was blue.
Anyway, it dawned on me the other day that I didn't have the keys to it on my keyring anymore since I've been driving the Momibu. And I don't know where they are.
Shit.
Fortunately, I do have a spare set, but there's a problem: the door key is not mine. A few years ago when I got my oil changed at the Firestone on Clark and Peterson, they somehow put the wrong key on my ring. I went in to the office and explained that it wasn't my key, but they stubbornly swore that it was the same key that was on the ring when I brought the car in. Even my demonstrating to them that it didn't fit the lock wasn't enough to convince the probably-undocumented workers that it was the wrong one. Fortunately, the door was unlocked, and since the ignition key was at least mine, I finally got tired of arguing, started the car and peeled out in a cloud of gravel and disgust. That set HAD been my main set--since I had another, it then became the spare set (for obvious reasons).
So you see my problem now--I no longer have an original key to fit my door--or my trunk. This will be a problem when I go to open the door next time I want to start it, not to mention sell it. I called the Chevy dealer in Chillicothe and explained my problem and they said that there is a man who fits keys, but he won't be in this Saturday (when I'm down there). He usually is, though, so I said I'd call again in a few weeks when I'm coming down (which will be April 12, I guess). I'll also have to bring some bolt-cutters to get into the storage unit, because I can't remember the combination to my lock.
Things are just going swimmingly here. Oh well--it gives me lots of extra time to look for the original keys...I feel sure that they're around my apartment somewhere.
***************************
The Tribune reports that radio host Steve Dahl has almost 2 million air miles from flying so much. There's a link posted on a sidebar that asks us to vote on whether he's "addicted to travel" (because it's not official until John Q. Blowhard votes).
Who gives a shit? Wherever he flies off to, he'll still look like Madalyn O'Hair...
***************************
I need more coffee. NOW.
posted by Aaron at 10:11 AM
4 Comments:
It looks like you're having an exciting Maundy Thursday whatever the hell that is. Double sided keys like Ford and some others have are very hard to make but a dealer can order new ones for you by using your cars ID number found at the bottom left side of your windshield. You'll need to prove ownership because they don't want to aide car thieves (like they need help)In my many past lives I used to be a locksmith. I hope your day gets better. Ed
Yes, they mentioned that I'd have to have my title/registration, license, etc. I'll bring those with me when I come down on the 12th...
I wondered about the VIN (the number near the windshield) and whether they could use that to make a new key...I'll ask that, too.
That same VIN number is on your title. There aren't as many different keys as one might think. If you had the keys to 100 Ford Taurus's there would probably be only about 25 different patterns. It's like the new state motto of Kentucky: 5 million people, 15 different last names. Ed
15? Are there that many?? When I lived there 16 yrs ago, there were only about 7 or 8. ;-)
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