Well, sort of.
Not that one.
There’s a dude in there. Caught a glimpse of him just before the crane turned. So he had to climb up.
Not that one either. I could clearly see the dude in that one, which meant that he too had to climb up there. Besides, I don’t speak Hungarian. Well, technically I suppose it’s ‘Magyar’. Or something.
But wait! This one!
There’s nobody in the cab, which means the crane operator dude is working the thing from Terra Firma.
See? Ain’t nobody in there.
I think I’d like that job.
There’s no freakin’ way I’d be climbing that ladder to get up there. I get an extreme case of butt clench-itis just looking out our kitchen window, and those cabs are way higher. Besides, earlier today I’m sure I saw the whole thing swaying ever so slightly. Gah! I’m clenching just thinking about it!
Actually, I couldn’t even find the guy. He’s probably chilling in a patio chair somewhere up on one of the rooftops. Hey, sign me up!
It’s a curious thing, but I can go up in a small aircraft and do spins, stalls or any other gut wrenching stuff, (well, except for some slight motion sickness issues) and it doesn’t bother me in the least. However, if I’m up just a few feet on a shaky ladder, I’m not happy. You can keep all your safety harnesses and the rest of it. I’d sooner be in the plane, or on the ground. More ‘in control’ in the plane? Beats me.
This whole thing about looking up at the cranes was only brought on by an issue I had with my left knee this morning. Every so often that sucker just doesn’t want to leave me in peace, so I thought I’d try to “walk it off”. Couldn’t get any worse. Sure enough, after about five kilometres the pain did subside. It’s still a bit puffy though for some reason. I’m not sure why moving the stupid thing would make it feel better. Probably why I never really excelled in Gym class. It’s that whole relationship between exercise and feeling better. It’s never really made sense to me.
There was one particular moment of Zen however:
“What? We’ll start off by running a mile?” Um ya, that was the beginning and end of my “Going out for soccer”. What was I thinking? Those guys run all the time.
Anyway, let’s not go there, shall we?
Got a little update on the washing machine back home. Not terribly good news. As it so happened my daughter woke me up out of a sound sleep to tell me about the service call she had that day from “Fast Eddie”. This was Tuesday night, and T.C. and I had hauled ourselves out of bed a wee bit early, so I was ‘out’.
Come to find out, it wasn’t really “Fast” himself, but one of his guys who, according to our daughter looked older than me. How the hell is that possible?
So the thing is pooched. It’s a front loader, and not only are the bearings shot, but there was something about a ‘yoke’ being kaput as well. Swell.
There won’t be any “the yoke’s on me” jokes either.
When she mentioned the age of the machine, he seemed to think that it had “lived it’s life”. Really? Well, apparently front loaders don’t necessarily last that long. There’s a lot of strain on the bearings. Helluva way to find that out.
He did say that they could keep using it, but just to keep the loads smaller. It’ll still work, but not too damned well.
The funny thing is, before Daughter Number One moved out last spring when she and her fellow bought their house, there had been some ‘grousing’ about the fact that she never put in a full load. Well, it turns out that that is just the thing that will keep the stupid machine running that much longer. So in spite of what the salespeople say, you can’t really cram the things full like they tell you to, even though it’s “more efficient”. Maybe it’s “more efficient” for them, since then they can sell you a new machine??
Kind of like that, “Oh they’ve improved RV fridges a lot, you don’t have to worry about having them completely level”, crap that the salesman was trying to tell me when we bought our motorhome? Ya right buddy. What, so you can sell me a new fridge in a few years? Jackass.
So the kids can muddle along with the machine for a time, and if there’s a top loader that’s too good of a “scratch and dent” deal to pass up, she can buy it. There are enough strapping lads around to sort out the logistics.
Oh oh! I almost forgot!
Here’s the best part! Daughter Number Two was quoted a certain amount for the service call. I don’t remember exactly what it was, but it was something like $57.50. Seems like an odd amount I know, but it did seem reasonable, whatever it was.
Then when she goes to cut him the cheque, it’s less. Like, quite a few bucks less. She asks why? Well….wait for it….they gave me a “Senior’s discount”! *snort*!
I guess when she was talking to the receptionist/order taker lady (would it be “Mrs Fast Eddie”?), and mentioned that T.C. and I were in Vienna, I suppose she thought we were on vacation? Who knows? Who cares?
That’s my very first ever Senior’s discount, and I hardly think of myself as a Senior. But I’ll take it, dammit! Maybe I need to write it on a calendar? Wait, better yet, I need a new “tag” for these posts. “Senior’s discounts”.
Yes, I’m doing it.
Keep on truckin’.
Thanks for coming by.