It's out on the street right now and I am getting up my courage so I can move it and see if I can park the rig into our tiny parking space, a space that my little red Nissan barely fits it without an application of Crisco all around.
We looked (via Consumer Reports and Craigslist) at all kinds of vehicles, settling on a slightly newer version of a Tundra that brother Dan Schwartz let us use two years ago in New York to launch and retrieve the Spirit of Louise pontoon craft.
This truck feels powerful - although you can almost hear the gasoline running through the engine like a waterfall. The mileage is similar to the Isuzu Trooper we drove south last year: bad, and sometimes worse.
Admiral with her new rig at the dealer
The purchase now sets the stage for a sequel to last year's trailer purchasing adventure: The Search for Grey Goose II.
We have several leads on trailers but will likely wait until the weather cools more and people who want to unload their summer toys get desperate. The ideal time to buy a trailer in thei part of California is the middle of winter, but we have an early November drop-dead date to find something. In the middle of winter, I expect to be on one of the beaches at Arroyo Seco, fishing, or with my amigo Chon deciding where we are going to go fishing.
Or drinking beer.
If we don't find a trailer here in California, we might fly into Phoenix in November and check in with the legions of retired, trailer-loving sun worshipers there. We could buy a rig, park it, and then pick it up on our way through town in December when we hope to visit The Carr Resort and Spa before heading south to Mexico.
The purchase of the truck culminated a week marked by medical appointments for me.
First, my dermatologist hit me with bursts of liquid nitrogen spray 37 times in about five minutes, burning off a crop of pre-cancers.
Or so she said.
Thirty-seven in five minutes. Jaysus! When I left, I felt like I had gotten a bad sunburn on my back. And by today, my face looked like I had been hit by a bad case of acne where all the blisters popped.
But the dermatologist's chamber of torture was followed by a trip to my dentist where I had two old fillings replaced and two more pulled out to make room for crowns. Two of the fillings were so old, they were likely put in more than 40 years ago.
That little episode meant nearly three hours in the chair and, by my count, seven shots of novocaine to numb everything.
But I am happy to report that except for feeling like my mouth was stretched open wider than that of comedian Joe E. Brown, the whole procedure was almost pain free and within two weeks, I'll have two shiny new crowns in place of some teeth that were on the verge of giving me some serious problems.
Joe E. Brown
The week ahead holds some great adventures, too. Admiral Fox has jury duty - yup, she not only got called in, she is seated on the jury. That likely means I will help cover some of her classes in the next few weeks.
The Admiral is Juror Number Seven on a panel in a Superior Court criminal trial.
Or, as she is known around our complex here now, Seven of Twelve.
Seven of Nine - not on the Admiral's jury
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