Where Is The Bilge Pump On This Thing?

At our lunchtime walk around the parking lot the sky was looking kind of iffy. Donna asked if I thought that we should put the top up and I waved her off. As a precaution when I got back inside I checked the radar loop on Weather.com and it looked like the line of thundershowers was moving north and east away from us, so I forgot all about the rain. For about 10 minutes. That is when the bottom fell out. If you were to look in the Microsoft’s Encarta for the word deluge, a video of what happened this afternoon would appear there.

It rained hard, like a cow pissing on a flat rock in a flowing stream, for at least 20 minutes. After 5, I knew I was in trouble. When the storm passed I wandered out to the parking lot to inspect the damages. The cockpit cover was soaked and when I peeled it back the inside looked barely wet. I did a quick sigh and felt the driver’s seat bottom. Uh, oh, it went squish, squish. That’s when I noticed the puddle of water under the seat. 😯 There was about an inch of rainwater under there. I went into the trunk and got my hand towel I use for quick detailing and started to sop up the puddle. After about a dozen dips and then squeezing out the water onto the asphalt the remaining water was at least not in danger of slooshing around on the drive home. The passenger side didn’t have a puddle, everything was just soaked through. I used a bunch of paper towels and dried the rest of the surfaces off. The seat bottoms and the “carpet” was still very wet.

Once I got home I pulled the seats and popped off the sill plates so I could peel back the carpet and dry underneath. I ended up using 6 full size bath towels to get all I could get dry in the cockpit. The colored and shredded recycled 2 litter 7-Up bottles that Mazda uses for carpet in the car is no real problem, it should eventually dry with no issues. But underneath that on each side are a couple of pieces of fiber padding that acted like sponges and they will not be 100% dry when I button the car back up later tonight. I may just rip the soggy padding out and replace it with something else later…

Started down, went up, back down, still down.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/05: 193

The Curse Of That Damn Pirate Movie

While we await the start of the Tour de France and the real reason we are plunking down an extra $15 a month for digital cable, we get to enjoy several “movie channels.” A half dozen Starz channels and eight Encore channels of which there is a lot of cross pollenation. I always check to see what is playing in case there might be something interesting and usually there isn’t, but one of the movies in the rotation this last month or so is one I can’t help but to stop and watch. I enjoy it so much that just tonight I broke away from watching the West Wing Monday Marathon (and we all know how much I love that show) to enjoy watching it for the umpteenth time.

Jack Sparrow: You, sailor.
Mr. Gibbs: Cotton, sir.
Jack Sparrow: Mr. Cotton. Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?
[pause]
Jack Sparrow: Mr. Cotton. Answer, man.
Mr. Gibbs: He’s a mute, sir. Poor devil had his tongue cut out, so he trained the parrot to talk for him. No one’s yet figured how.
Jack Sparrow: Mr. Cotton’s… parrot. Same question.
Parrot: [squawk] Wind in the sails. Wind in the sails.
Mr. Gibbs: Mostly, we figure, that means ‘yes.’

Started down, still down.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/05: 191

No-Legged Parrot

A guy is browsing in a pet shop and sees a parrot sitting on a little perch. It doesn’t have any feet or legs. The guy says aloud, “Jeesh, I wonder what happened to this parrot?”

The parrot says, “I was born this way. I’m a defective parrot.”

“Holy crap,” the guy replies. “You actually understood and answered me!”

“I got every word,” says the parrot. “I happen to be a highly intelligent thoroughly educated bird.”

“Oh yeah?” the guy asks, “Then answer this — how do you hang onto your perch without any feet?”

“Well,” the parrot says, “this is very embarrassing but since you asked, I wrap my weenie around this wooden bar like a little hook. You can’t see it because of my feathers.”

“Wow,” says the guy. “You really can understand and speak English can’t you?”

“Actually, I speak both Spanish and English, and I can converse with reasonable competence on almost any topic: politics, religion, sports, physics, philosophy. I’m especially good at ornithology. You really ought to buy me. I’d be a great companion.”

The guy looks at the $200.00 price tag. “Sorry, but I just can’t afford that.”

“Pssssssst,” says the parrot, “I’m defective, so the truth is, nobody wants me cause I don’t have any feet. You can probably get me for $20; just make the guy an offer!”

The guy offers $20 and walks out with the parrot. Weeks go by. The parrot is sensational. He has a great sense of humor, he’s interesting, he’s a great pal, he understands everything, he sympathizes, and he’s insightful. The guy is delighted.

One day the guy comes home from work and the parrot goes, “Psssssssssssst,” and motions him over with one wing. “I don’t know if I should tell you this or not, but it’s about your wife and the postman.”

“What are you talking about?” asks the guy.

“When the postman delivered the mail today, your wife greeted him at the door in a sheer black nightie.”

“WHAT???” the guy asks incredulously. “THEN what happened?”

“Well, then the postman came into the house and lifted up her nightie and began petting her all over,” reported the parrot.

“NO!” he exclaims. “And she let him?”

“Yes. Then he continued taking off the nightie, got down on his knees and began to kiss her all over….”

Then the frantic guy demands, “THEN WHAT HAPPENED?”

“Damned if I know. I got a hard-on and fell off my perch!”

Happy Father’s Day

I certainly hope that all you fathers out there had half as nice a day as I did. While I’m not a father myself, so I didn’t get a hand drawn card or burnt toast in bed, I did have a nice leisurely day. This morning was spent reading (The Genesis Code by John Case) on the screened porch listening to Radio Paradise. With both the humidity and temperatures lower than normal for around here, the screened porch was the place to be. So much so that after lunch with friends I headed back out there to read some more and listen to the Red Sox trounce the Pirates.

Excuse me while I go finish the book and then it is back to reality. Tomorrow starts a new work week and I really need to get going on a Master’s Miata Club newsletter…

Started down, still down.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/05: 191

25,000 Peaches

And about 10 Shriners on Go-Karts. The Emperor passed the 25,000 mile mark on the way to the Ridge Peach Parade this morning. It was organized chaos, both in the manner of go-kart driving in front of us and at the start when the “float” markers weren’t out on time, so we just kind of lined up where we thought we should be. Coincidentally there were 10 Miatas in the parade following right behind the Shriners. Although we would have liked to have done some of the maneuvers that the go-karts were doing, and Miatas are small cars, our turning radius is not that tight.

Shriners

Started down, still down.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/05: 191

Letter Sweater

Looking for the perfect 50’s college nostolgia? How about a letter sweater just like dear ol’ dad wore? Get a duplicate of the one the moths ate or make one up of your very own at lettersweaters.com.

Letter Sweater
Here is Doug Neidermeyer’s letter sweater from Faber U.

Or if you would like that High School Letter Jacket you missed out on back in the day, because they didn’t award them to members of the AV Club, you can get one at their companion site, American Letterman Jackets.

Started down, went up, went down, back up, back down, still down.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/05: 191

Blogger’s Block Again

In leiu of actual content, a smart blonde/dumb southerner joke:

Bubba and Junior were standing at the base of a flagpole, looking up.

A woman walked by and asked “What are you doing?”

“We’re supposed to find the height of the flagpole,” said Bubba, “but we don’t have a ladder.”

The woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a few bolts, and laid the pole down. Then she took a tape measure from her pocket, took a measurement, announced, “Eighteen feet, six inches,” and walked away.

Junior shook his head and laughed. “Ain’t that just like a dumb blonde! We ask for the height, and she gives us the length!!”

Started down, still down.
Miata Top Transitions since 01/01/05: 187