The Hits Keep Coming ...

So this just happened. I was rolling home a.ka. the C & C Crash Pad after tutoring the child assigned to me for the Costco Volunteer Reading Program. After detailing the Sapphire Sled inside and outside, and placing a new Seahawks emblem on it yesterday, I was feelin' good, like the Michael Buble version.

With the windows down and the sunroof open, and the music blasting out from Mark VI, I noticed a smoke plume from under the hood. My heart sank. I was no longer carkaraoke [see what I did there?] the Pentatonix song "Sing", but focused on the hood. I continued my way home. I kept the engine running as I lifted the hood. The pungent smell of cooked anti-freeze was present but I couldn't locate the source. Finally able to realize that while I'm no mechanic like Doctor Auto but I know enough that there's a leak in the radiator where all this anti-freeze should be.

I logged into the Costco Travel website to locate a nearby rental car. They called me almost immediately after reserving it to advise that all they had was mini-vans but only charge me the full-size car rate. I readily accepted because I honestly have no other viable option.

I'm on the cusp of dropping off the Sapphire Sled for the evening, only to rock the mini-van action later for work tomorrow.

Hopefully, by the end of the day tomorrow I'll have the Sapphire Sled back in stall #24 at the C & C Crash Pad. But you never know until the hood is up, and after 12 years of service, one of these visits will be the last...

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Let's Dance

The other week, I was driving to my 2 nd job at Malarky’s Sports Grill. Wednesday to be exact. I noticed a man standing at a bus sign waiting for a bus. I recognized the man right away. It was Kenny, The Dancing Wild Man of Factoria. It’d been a minute since I’ve seen him on the streets of Issaquah, I was growing concerned that something awful happened to him. I was thankful to find him once again, and within the same area I “met” him the first time… hilarious story. I remember distinctively. It was my first summer I spent in Issaquah. The sun was out, so relatively warm. I was bombing around in the Sapphire Sled [an arctic blue, 2004 Acura RSX Type S] with the windows down, the tunes up. I was stopped at the traffic light on the corner of Front Street and NW Gilman Blvd; the busiest intersection. From out-the-cuts, I heard someone screaming! I pull off my shades immediately. I whip my head around trying to seek out the source of the noise. I turn down the radio as I desper

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