On Tuesday I am headed to a resourcescout meeting and celebrate the truck making 85,000 miles at the 91 and 605 interchange. The truck only needs to last a couple more years until Nopey decides to leave and I get a different vehicle.
The meeting goes well and now I'm headed for my 10:30pm ice hockey game in Lakewood against the first place team. Our team plays well but we lose, 3-2.
Wednesday I take off from TRW and, after lifting weights first thing in the morning, I start running some pre-Thanksgiving errands. As I'm stopped at the red light at Del Amo and Paramount - changing the station on the radio - I am interupted by a large impact from the rear. Without hearing the squealing of "slammed-on" brakes, I am pushed forward 10 feet even though I have my foot on the brake. After the police, fire, and paramedics arrive and finally leave, I find that the truck is sorta driveable and I head directly for home - I need some Aleve to ward off the future neck, shoulder, and back pain as well as the headache that has already started. I'll know in the morning whether this is a concussion or not by a presence or lack of dizziness when I get out of bed. (Recognizing the symptoms since I've been through this before.)
The collision center that my insurance company recommends says that the truck may be a total loss. They will make that determination when they take it apart. And here's a showing the damage.
I try to relax, abuse the Aleve, and stretch my neck, shoulders, and back throughout the day. At one point I'm on the corded telephone and I hear a commotion coming from the kitchen. Nopey is running back and forth in the kitchen with a plastic trash bag attached to his tail (with some two-sided tape that I disposed of and that he must have accidentally come in contact with). Nopey is trying his best to get rid of his new attachment by swinging his tail rapidly back and forth and running back and forth in the kitchen. Eventually he decides that the new attachment is no threat because I, after hanging up the telephone, remove the plastic bag from his tail without undue stress.
Person Roy calls and reminds me of the Ice Dogs' game that we will be going to. So near 7pm I'm picking up Person Roy and his roommate Ralph and we are headed for the Long Beach Sports Arena for the Long Beach Ice Dogs vs. Bakersfield Condors game. There are not many cars in the parking lot but I keep bypassing empty spots. Finally Person Roy and Ralph both state, "There are lots of spots. Just pick one."
Seeing that the vehicle that we are driving is probably going to be declared a total loss, I respond with, "I'm trying to find a very large spot in between two expensive vehicles so that I don't get any door dings." The three of us have a good laugh and go see the game. The game is fairly uneventfull with the Ice Dogs losing, 3-2. As both teams are leaving the ice the Ice Dogs' coach starts throwing all of the PowerAde water bottles at the referee (because he thinks that the referee called a bad game and cost him the game). The blue stains of the PowerAde drink on the ice would make a good artsy photograph (if one had his/her camera with them).
I get out for a reasonable Thanksgiving morning ride after realizing that there is no dizziness from the traffic accident (hence, probably no concussion). I spend most of the day watching football, eating spaghetti, and napping. Late in the day I take Nopey for walk and, as he gets tired, drop him off at home and I continue for a longer walk. I'm on a standard route and I hear somebody yelling obscene words at a house and I see a person throwing a pumpkin into the middle of the street as the "colorfull" language continues. The source of the bad language and pumpkin throwing, a lady in her early 30's and dressed all in black including a black cape, sees a car pass by and runs toward the car with a "What the f&#% are you looking at?" scream. I keep walking - unwavering from my path on the opposite side of the street. (Sometimes one has to not care at all.) The lady sees me and starts walking towards me. I continue on the walk. (Sometimes one has to not care at all.) She finally starts walking alongside me and wraps her arm around mine as she says something like, "Nobody likes me today." It is obvious that she has been drinking.
I keep walking - unwavering from my path - with her arm hooked around mine. (Sometimes one has to not care at all.) And I finally add, "Sometimes people are mean". I get to the corner and make my turn and she releases my arm as she decides that I am not to be intimidated (Sometimes one has to not care at all.) and that I am headed in a direction that she doesn't want to go. The remainder of the walk finishes without incident.
Friday I get up at 5:30am and head to Best Buy to see if I can get a deal or two. When I pull into the parking lot at 5:45am - 15 minutes before they open - I see a line of people that snakes around the building and continues into the parking lot. There must be 500 people ahead of me. I decide to go back home, lift weights, and head to the Office Max that opens at 7am. There are 4 people ahead of me when I get there at 6:45am. I am able to get in the store, buy a CD-RW drive, 200 CD-R disks, and 100 jewel cases for $20 (after the $80 of rebates). I install the device and then head to Person T*'s house for noon.
Person T* and I spend time browsing furniture stores, book stores, and other stores. It is a reasonable time.
Regarding the Toyota truck that the collision place thinks is possibly a total loss - well, I continue to drive it locally. It's kinda funny to drive because there are all sorts of rattles, noises, and groaning sounds that it makes and there are little bits and pieces that keep falling off as I drive down the street.
Saturday sees a 5 mile run, some errands, a session with the weights, and some relaxation prior to the LA Kings' game. Both Person M_C and Person J_VKPI cancel within hours of the game - leaving me with two tickets paid for out of my pocket. I take the train up to the Staples Center - I wouldn't want to park the truck in downtown Los Angeles and risk somebody stealing it.
I get o my seat - it is the very last row in Staples Center. Unlike the Great Western Forum, this is still a reasonable seat. The Kings win the game, 4-1, and I run into a couple people that I know and I have trivial conversations with.
On the train ride home there are some young teenagers, probably ranging in age from 11 to 14, who insist on being loud and using a lot of language that I prefer not to hear for the entire trip home. So at the first stop I jump out of my seat and run along the platform to another car on the same train that is quieter.
Sunday sees a reasonable day of lifting weights, cycling, installing a programmable thermostat (with Dad's help), and a good walk with and without Nopey. Towards the end of the walk, as the sky has already darkened, I am headed for home when I see some people installing their Christmas lights. One guy is getting down from a ladder and I see him bang his shin on a nearby wheelbarrow. "G&$ d@$& it, that f&#$*@% hurts!" is what he says. He picks his head up and sees me walking and says, "Excuse my language". This is a bit too much for me to take and now I start laughing really hard. The guy's (assumed) wife picks her head up, sees me walking past and laughing, and now she starts laughing really hard. Finally the guy's (assumed) brother turns his head from his perch on a second ladder, sees all of us laughing, and now he starts laughing.
The lady regains her composure enough to say to me, "Merry Christmas", as I continue on my walk.
The day sees phone calls from Dao, Person M_C, Person J_VKPI, and Dad. Dao invites me to dinner with Person M_C (who he knows independently of me) and Person Will (who I don't know) on Saturday. This is to be followed by an evening at Club Asia where I'm already going anyway because Joe wants to hang out with me on that night. It should be an interesting evening as not all interested parties have checked in and agreed to meet at the club yet.
On Monday morning it feels good to be back on the motorcycle. As I get on the 405 freeway I hook up with another motorcycle rider and we cruise along at 125 mph until traffic makes us slow down to painfully slow speeds.