3/16/15

Lorraine and I are on the road again, this time in Daytona Florida visiting our niece, Denise (Lorraine’s sister’s daughter).  She recently bought a house here, ostensibly to get away from the winters up north; but I suspect the real motive may have been to get away from me.  Completely understandable, but she made the rookie mistake of including her new address on her Christmas card.

The weather was lovely here today – about 85 degrees – and we spent it at the beach.  We had to take Denise’s car, since ours inexplicably was completely empty of oil when I checked it quite by accident this morning.  There was no oil on the ground beneath it, and it had been changed and filled just before we left Jersey. Additionally, I had checked it while on the road in South Carolina; and it was full!  So we are searching for an explanation before we can drive it again.  I bought some oil today and put it in, and put cardboard under the car; so we will see in the morning if the oil is there or in the crankcase.  Of course, I have no idea what or where the crankcase is.  The word sounds like an insult that someone might use to describe me on a bad day.  (“There’s just no reasoning with the old “crankcase” today.  Better to let him cool off, and talk to him tomorrow.”)

Fortunately, we have Denise to chauffer us around until the situation resolves itself. 

3/18

No resolution on the oil situation yet.  Our mechanic from back home on the phone, and another one here in person have advised us that it is safe to drive, as long as we keep checking the oil.  We are; and there is no evidence that the oil is either leaking, or burning.  But it is disappearing on a regular basis!  I suspect some sort of ISIS involvement; you know, because it’s oil; but that’s just a working theory.  Tomorrow morning we are going to head further down the coast to West Palm Beach Gardens, an area which is reportedly not under their control.  Yet.

3/22

We are in West Palm Beach Gardens, which is a separate town, not to be confused with West Palm Beach, or Palm Beach. I think the towns are distinguished from each other chiefly by the number of Trumps who live in each. We are staying at the home of Alan and Hilary (last name withheld for privacy, but it is not Trump) my friends from college. Alan and I met on the first day of college 48 years ago, and neither of us can remember ever having a cross word with each other in all those years! Which will make it all the more lamentable when I inevitably do something insensitive and bone-headed while I am here as their house guest.
Lorraine and I went to a Calvary Chapel church service this morning in the nearby town of Jupiter, which happens to be the hometown of Burt Reynolds. Burt didn't show, but the service was great; and afterward there was a cafe (in the church building) that dispensed free lattes, cappuccinos, and espressos, along with fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. After we partook, just to be neighborly, we came back to the condo here and took a dip in the pool in the glorious 86 degree sunshine. Then, back at the house, I was able to watch the spring training game between the Yankees and the Mets on the DVR, which the Met won handily.  I see why Florida has a well-earned reputation for being a "no-suck zone", especially in March.