Things to Do in Connecticut When You're Doing Nothing

Archived MySpace blog
Category: Blogging

By now everyone has read the tales of trips to Montréal, Nine Inch Nails Concerts, Volkswagen Festivals in New Jersey, and the like. Now, I think it's only fair to show the other side. This is...

Down Time

This is the tale of a weekend with no plans. My eye is finally pretty much back to normal. There are a few weekends left in Summer. The weather is fine. And... there are no plans anywhere.

Friday night I enjoyed a couple at Richter's while wishing a co-worker good luck as he moved on to greener pastures in the Stamford office. Actually, anywhere in Connecticut is greener pastures than here when you're talking about the courts. After a short stay at said Happy Hour, back home and the promise of the new Indiana Jones box set -- "You call him 'Dr. Jones', doll"

The rest of Friday night was spent in. Molly and I watched Raiders of the Lost Ark, accompanied by Jersey Mike's subs, and a bit more drink. Would have been quite the relaxing night had Molly's back not completely given out... but Tiger Balm and a hot towel massage soothed things to a sleepable state, and the night proved relaxing after all.

Saturday morning came, and the call of a friend in need pointed our day mid-state. Southington around 3:00 left us the first half of the day open, and presented two wonderful opportunities: Momentum Tuning, and Tim Horton's.

So we drive up to Meriden, to the closest Tim Horton's in the state, and one exit North of Momentum Tuning, to a little area we have since dubbed Little Toronto. Tim' Horton's Donuts on one side of East Main, Toronto Dominion Bank on the other, it's like a little slice of Canada in the middle of Meriden. We sit on the curb, enjoying our coffees, me with a tasty cinnamon roll, and Molly, a donut, I believe.

Leaving Tim's, coffees in hand, and rolling one exit South on the Wilbur Cross, we approach Momentum Tuning, an automotive shop specializing in the performance Volkswagen market. What a wonderful little niche market! However, it would seem that the true location of said shop is guarded in Volkswagen enthusiast secrecy. Up and down North Plains Industrial Rd we drive, looking for this place. A call to 411, and we discover... closed. Shortly after hanging up, we do discover the hidden lair of the gurus of Volkswagen tuning, and confirm that the shop does not have weekend hours. But for a long day on Thursday, and the fact that I only work until 3:30 on Mondays, I had feared I may never see the inside of this most hallowed shrine of Volkswagen Performance. Alas, it is now only 1:30, and We are not to meet Lonnie until 3 or 4.

US 5 through Wallingford is about the same as any main drag through any Northeast town... fast food, car dealerships, and mid-priced retail shopping. We found ourselves in Big Lots. What a great place. Wonders of the world... literally... have you ever seen Indian cuisine packaged for sale in South America? I thought not. An Axe deodorant gift set garnered me my second "Evil Rubber Ducky", and I received a 2nd, 3rd, and 4th phone call from the cretins trying to sell me drugs illegally from some 3rd World country. "Can I ask you what medications you're on?" The calls finally ceased when Molly tells them "Well, I think it's kind of intrusive for you to ask me that. I'm on the AZT and I have herpes." The phone calls ceased, but oddly no one in Big Lots even batted an eye.

A quick phone call to Lonnie revealed that 3 or 4 had now become 5, and so our destination became the Meriden Square Mall, but on the way through, we decided to stop in at the porn store. Yeah, I said it. Problem... the porn store was closed for 5 while the employee took a break. Next door for 2 failed scratch tickets, and... oddly... a porn mag, then back to the porn store. Surprisingly, we did better in the market next door, and we left the store empty handed.

Since Westfield bought all the malls in Connecticut it seems, effectively the Meriden Square Mall is the same as any other mall in this state, only laid out differently. A bathroom break, 2 gumballs, and a pair of jeans for Molly later, it's time to head to Lonnie's. There, we are greeted with the sight of the truck I should have been moving with, a van with a 12' box on the back. Tiny, efficient, appropriate for a small apartment move. (Mine was 53' long.) We emptied it in 30 minutes.

I've missed Arby's living in Branford, and since Southington has one, that is where we had our evening meal. It was uneventful on its own, although the site of Molly and I laughing and joking and having a good time in the food line seemed to upset the locals. The gene pool is little more than a puddle out there it seems.

The drive home brought us by Ocean State Job Lot, and a clothing store called pay/half. Cheap shopping seemed to be the mode of the day. Pay/half was a bust, but at Job Lot, Molly happened upon a 1:16 scale model of the Volkswagen W12 Nardo. No, no one actually knows what that car is... I'll have to blog it later. Saturday ended with a DVD's on the couch... no, I said we didn't buy anything at the porn store... The Poseidon Adventure. Irvin Allen's classic, and the perfect follow-up to the week before's Towering Inferno. Stonebridge was ruled out, and we ended the day in a lazy fashion.

Sunday arrived as it usually does, and the late morning suggested coffee. Off we went to Dunkin' Donuts. Walked in, and got in line, until... Molly realized that it was a planless Sunday, and our relaxing coffee pause was better served at Common Grounds, where not only is the coffee better, but one can sit at a table on the sidewalk, and enjoy a cigarette as well. Before leaving, however, Molly managed to find two aging nerds in Dunkin' Donuts, and through them join the Branford Chess Club.

In order to have a coffee and cigarette, we must first stop for cigarettes. Enter Branford Book & Card. There's a line, so I decided to explore the international news section while waiting. Somehow we end up with 2 packs of Marb Lights, and another porn mag.

Coffees, smokes, a croissant, and a raspberry crumb cake, reading porn in downtown Branford. What does this suggest? Of course. A trip to Old Glory.

Old Glory is a head shop. There are 5 or six of them in the state, and I believe more in other states. No, neither Molly nor I partake in the stickiest of the icky, but Old Glory is great place to pick up t-shirts, wallets, and our personal goal, belt buckles.

A stoned clerk helped us acquire a Metallica "Whiskey in the Jar" tee, a Sex Pistols "God Save the Queen" tee, and a belt buckle, limited edition made in 1979, of a small aircraft gauge pod. It's sweet. If you don't understand what it is from that description, don't feel bad, neither did Eddie.

Yes, Eddie. Recently back from parts unknown... the Midwest... Eddie had invited us to lunch. Archie Moore's. Fairly New Haven famous. Good food, drink; I had a Swithwick's and something called the "Pulled Pig" sandwich. Pork barbecue is always good by me. The promise of karaoke later turns out to be a pass, but that's fine by everyone involved, and the late afternoon rolls off into an evening defined by Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

I think that's it. Just a weekend off, nothing much to do, no plans to speak of. Just a little down time.

Hot Cars in Hotter Weather

or
How Waterfest 2006 Almost Wasn't

Archived MySpace blog
Category: Automotive

On Saturday, July 15, Molly and I went here:

Unfortunately, the rest of this post is now lost in cyberspace. It's a real shame, too; this was one of my favourite blogs. For simple continuity, I leave this scrap here.

1000 HP Dubbie

Bugatti Veyron 16.4

Philzor touched on this monster in a blog a while back, but I was recently reading up on it, and decided to extol the virtues of this, possibly the worlds most powerful car. And of course, if you know anything about me, more importantly than how ridiculous this beast is, is the fact that it is for all intents and purposes a Volkswagen.

Then-boss of Volkswagen Ferdinand Piëch bought Bugatti a few years ago and commissioned design a concept car. "This," he said, "is what the next Bugatti will look like." And then, without consulting anyone, he went on. "And it vill have an engine that develops 1000 horsepower and it vill be capable of 400kph." Thus, the latest car to bear the Bugatti nameplate was born.

Jeremy Clarkson, who had the awesome privilege to drive, né pilot, the new Bugatti, had this to say:

"Make no mistake, 200mph is at the limit of what man can do right now. Which is why the new Bugatti Veyron is worthy of some industrial strength genuflection. Because it can do 252mph. And that's just mad.” 252mph means that in straight and level flight this car is as near as makes no difference as fast as a Hawker Hurricane.

You might point out at this juncture that the McLaren F1 could top 240mph, but at that speed it was pretty much out of control. And anyway it really isn't in the same league as the Bugatti. In a drag race you could let the McLaren get to 120mph before setting off in the Veyron. And you'd still get to 200mph first. The Bugatti is way, way faster than anything else the roads have seen."

Here are the amazing stats of the new Veyron... and no, I can't figure out what the 16.4 refers to in its moniker.

Engine: 7993cc (yup, 8 Litre, or 488 Cubic Inch), 16 cylinder (VW W16 configuration)

Power: 1001bhp @ 6000rpm (because that extra 1 horsepower makes all the difference)

Torque: 922 lb ft @ 2200rpm

Transmission: 7-speed DSG, manual and auto

Acceleration: 0-100 km/hr: 2.5sec

Top speed: 407 km/hr (253mph)

Fuel Economy: 11.7mpg (Goes 200 mph and still gets better gas milage than a Hummer)

Bottom Line: €810,345 (about $1.5 Million)


I so need one. Yeah, I know, I could hit the Lottery and still not afford one. Now, if everyone on my friends page contributed $11,000 (enough to buy a Mini Cooper S... outright), I'd still come up a couple hundred short. So, to whoever out there has the disposable income to buy one of these, I say this:

I want a ride!!!

Mr. Murphy and his damn law

Archived MySpace blog
Current mood: exhausted

Just got home from work. 3 hrs and 45 minutes later. Bad enough day at work... Bad enough week, really...

But 3 hours and 45 minutes between my job and home -- usually 20 minutes. For what? A stupid flat tire.

A flat tire should be resolved in less than 3 hours and 45 minutes. No? Not today, I guess.

So I'm a half mile from my exit. Hear an odd noise. Like the noise a vibration would make, but without the vibration. So I pull off at the gas station... its flat. Well not very flat. There isn't much flat a 45 series (low profile) tire can get.

Air. Nope. Tire is losing air faster than the pump can put it in. OK, call wife. Have wife come to gas station with my extra tires. What the heck, I have 5 spares! Wife calls back. Her truck covered in ice. Where's ice scraper? Windshield wiper is... Cell phone dies!

Now I have my phone on me every day. Charge it every night. Battery lasts 3 days. Nope. Cell phone will always die when tire is flat.

Wife arrives at gas station with spare tires. With the full-size spare in my trunk I now have 9 tires with me. Jack in hand, trusty VW tool kit at the ready... VW lug wrench doesn't fit after market BBS wheels!

Back home. Change out of work clothes into jeans. Get lug wrench. Call tire place. Road hazard: yes, tire in stock: no, get it tomorrow: possibly. OK, I can deal with that. Phone on charger, back to gas station.

Round 2- Lug wrench: check, Jack: check, Spare tire: check check check check check. Jack up car. Jack crank is of course longer than ground clearance. Bust knuckle. Ow! Still going. Wheel off. Other wheel... What the ?!? How does the OEM wheel not fit?!?

Inspect hub. Inspect wheel. Inspect other wheel. Hmmm... Oh, hub spacer. Hub spacer? Weird after market BBS wheels. Just... take... off... Damn! Hub spacer won't come off.

Contemplate. Car up on flimsy roadside jack in gas station parking lot. Flat tire fits, spare tire doesn't. Could take flat tire to tire shop and have flat replaced, but can't leave car in parking lot on flimsy jack. Could put on spare and drive car to tire shop, but spare tire won't go on. What do I... Wait! Roadside Assistance!!

Call VW roadside assistance. Flat tire. Yes, I have a spare. No, I can't put it on. No, I don't think he could put it on either. Flat bed? One hour? OK. Mmm... gas station dinner.

OK, well, the towing went OK, and hopefully I'll have a new tire tomorrow. Got no car until then. But damn you, Mr. Murphy. Did if have to be today? I'm tired.