I am sitting at home today with what I am afraid is the beginnings of the Savannah Crud. If you don’t know what that is just image a cold that you get when the seasons change that lasts for about a month. For the past 5-6 weeks I have been watching the people around me in my life fall like dominoes to the crud and I have watched and heard them cough and hack like they had been mining coal in West Virginia for the past 40 years. Sarah gets a cold about every other month but this one is still sticking with her. She sounds like she has been sucking on Lucky Strikes with pot-Ash but the child can’t even stand to eat a decent taco. So I know she hasn’t been sneaking cigs in her room. It’s the damn Crud hanging on like it’s waiting out a half-life.

 As I have watch friends and family succumb to the crud I knew in the back of my mind that I would eventually get it. It was just a matter of time. I have been working on a project at church for almost two months and last night I declared it completed. So, as Mr. Murphy predicted, in the middle of the night I started feeling the symptoms of the notorious yet unexplained Savannah Crud. We have some close friends that are fairly new to Savannah and all of them have been dealing with this affliction for two months. They are from south/middle Georgia where a cold is a cold. It hits you like a ton of bricks, lasts about 10 days and suddenly goes away. The Crud eases in like a thief in the night and latches on to your respiratory system like the egg layer in “Alien”. If you haven’t seen that movie I am sorry for you. Rent it, it’s awesome. Then you’ll get the reference. So it clings and stays with you. It stays with you and then it stays until it decides to really bother you. Then, you guessed it, it aggravates you like a mother-in-law talking about her corns to the priest standing outside of church holding up the receiving line.

All the years I was patrolling I would get the crud and just go to work and struggle through it. Troopers are supposed to overcome small obstacles to get the job done. That shit never really worked so I stayed home today. I am a volunteer so I get to do that. The only difference is that I really like who I work with now and I love what I do. No guns or court involved. Well, not yet.  But I decided to stay home and rest. Several articles, friends and significant others all told me to drink lots of fluids. So I have. I have seen the throne from the standing position more than I usually do in a week. I basically feel the same as I did this morning so I guess the night will show us if the crud can be defeated by liquids and sleep. I’m not optimistic.

My lovely wife brought me home the soup I wanted so my insides are nice and toasty. I am still funneling fluids like a Cadillac at the gas pump. Thank God the costs aren’t the same. Savannah is a beautiful place to live with many things to do.  One of which is to catch a cold that hangs on like herpes on a rock star. Ain’t life grand?

With a rather sad lead up I was forced back in April to purchase a vehicle. I wasn’t planning on it at the time but the situation came around to where it was the only way to go. Even though the reasons were not on par I have to admit that I was excited to get to get a new ride. I had been snooping around the Jeep dealership months before. I had my eye on a new Wrangler. I had always wanted a Wrangler and they were in my price range. Actually, the Wranglers are cheaper than most  other new vehicles I have purchased but at this point I was shopping for me and what I wanted. Not for kids, gas mileage or a wife’s desires.

 I bee-bopped, yes, bee-bopped on down to the Chrysler dealer to look at Jeep Wranglers. OK, I’ll be honest. I went to buy a Jeep Wrangler. I’d already looked at them and did the research back in the winter. Now I had an excuse. I met with the salesman and we started the journey. There were only two on the lot that was both in my reach financially and that I wanted. I went down there thinking I wanted a black one. The black one was an automatic transmission and about $2000 more money. The other one was a bright blue or as Jeep calls it “Cosmos Blue”. It was the cheapest of the wranglers and exactly what I wanted other than the color. Then I drove it. I fell in love and lust at the same time. He had me by the proverbial balls. With approval from Michele about the color I did the deal. This Jeep is as base model as they sell them. The only extra accessory were the step rails. It was standard shift and had air conditioning. All I needed. the color grew on me before I left the lot. We completed the deal fairly quickly and I was off to the house to put the top down and head to the beach.

The next day was Sunday and we were headed out for a ride in the new ride. I started up the Wrangler and heard an unusual tone. Then I noticed the dreaded check engine light. I was stunned. I had less than 200 miles on my baby. We did we what we set out to do and when I got home I put my code reader on the Jeep’s computer. It showed a misfire in one of the valves. I was not happy.

Monday morning bright and early I arose and trekked to the dealership, first one in line. They took it to the back and in about an hour they brought it back around and told me it was just a fluke. Nothing was wrong. They cleared the code and I was good to go. I didn’t think too much about it at the time. That Wednesday, two days later, the check engine light comes back on. So Thursday morning I’m back at the dealership. That’s two visits to the service department in less than a week from the purchase date. They take it to the service area and I am really not happy but I am being cooperative. In another wasted hour of my life I hear from the service writer. She tells me that there are problems with this particular motor in the 2012 V6s. They tell me they have to order a new head because the one that came from the factory was defective and it would take up to two months because they were on national back-order. Fuck me runnin’!!!! Then they tell me that when the parts do get there they will rent me a car because it will take three days to install the new parts. The surprising sentence came next. I am informed that I can drive my Jeep until then. They claim that even though the check engine light is on and there is an air leak at the head and the top of the valve is getting scorched it’ll be o.k. So off I go.

For the next two months I find a few other problems surface. I noticed one day that there was a piece of plastic missing off of my windshield wiper. I go by the dealership and get the salesman to order it for me. Then I notice that I don’t have the lug nut key that I would have to have to change a tire. I make another journey to the south side to get that. By the way, the lug nut key comes in a packet that also includes extra lug nuts. Not that I would ever have a flat tire or anything. They find the package that goes to my Jeep. Same stock number and everything. No, we have not begun.

Fast forward to the middle of July and I get a phone call saying that my parts are in. I discuss with the service writer the fact that I am a big boy and when we rent this car I need an SUV or a truck. She says that is no problem. Well it must have been. I drop off my Jeep for it’s three day repair and Maynard G. Krebs from the rental car company shows up in a Mitsubishi Eclipse to pick me up. I wedge my fat-ass in the aforementioned tuna can and we go to the lot. Yes, you guessed it, they stuck me in a piece of shit car. A damn Chevrolet Impala. It’s either that or a minivan. I’m screwed. So I drive that fine unit for three days except for the day I conned Michele into driving it. Hee hee.

I hadn’t heard from the fine technicians so I a call on Thursday morning to check on my baby. After an eternity on hold they tell me she is fixed and ready to go! I am so happy. I get dressed and head that way. I get out of the rental car and I am met by the service writer who hands me a stack of paperwork and directs me to the cashier. They didn’t try and charge me but I was miffed at why they couldn’t tote this paper themselves. I finish in there and I back out into the service bay and ask where my ride is. She says, “it’s somewhere behind the fence”. I get the keys and head out for the journey that is reminiscent of a Steve Martin scene where he is dropped off in a rental car parking lot and has to walk miles back to the airport. I find the blue beauty and head home. No, it’s not over.

The next Friday night, Michele and I were headed out for dinner. As you have probably assumed, the check engine light comes back on. After dinner I head home and check the code and it’s the same damn thing. I am blood red furious. Many bad thoughts circled my over sized head. Saturday morning I am again first in line at the service department. I drive in and park. The service writer that day happens to be the service manager. I launched. I go all south Georgia Trooper side of the road ass chewing on him. At one point he tries to tell me if I don’t calm down I can go somewhere else. Then he tells me that they don’t make the Jeeps there, they just fix them. I begged to differ, very loudly. After more hours of my life in the gutter he comes to tell me that it’s the same problem and they don’t know what to do. He has to call Chrysler in Detroit to find out what the next step would be. I ask to talk to the general manager. I gather him, the service manager and the salesman and go around the room gnawing on asses. They attempt to justify some of there actions and blame Chrysler but I remind them I didn’t buy the damn thing in Michigan. That meeting didn’t go well. I leave in my Jeep and am promised a phone call on Monday morning. Monday came and went. Friday I get the news. I have to drop off my Jeep on the next Monday so they can run some tests. I’m starting to think it’s terminal. Monday morning I drop it off with the demand that I drive something “bigger” off of the lot. They give me a KIA Sorento, nuff’ said.

Today is Wednesday. I called myself because it didn’t look like they were going to. The service manager actually tells me that the engineers at Chrysler want to put a second new head in it but he has no confidence in their decision. Whatever. I just want my shit right. I make the trip again. While I am there an anonymous employee enlightens me and tells me that there are a set of larger Sahara tires stowed away in the back and I should pitch a fit for them since I’ve had so much trouble. Sounds good to me since the tires that came with my Jeep look they came off of my red wagon from the 70’s. I go to the general manger who is a Yankee from hell and throw my second fit. He agrees that I can have them but he doesn’t have time to handle that right now. So I go to the service manager and throw it on him. He says “SURE!!” He comes back to tell me that he doesn’t have any. I walk him back to where they are and point them out. He says, “Oh, those, sure, we’ll put them on,”  More time goes by and he comes to inform me that they don’t have the lug nut key to fit my Jeep. You know, the one they forgot to give me when I bought the damn thing. So I have to load back up in the KIA and drive back to Wilmington Island to get my lug nut key for the damn dealership!! I drive back across the county to deliver the tool to the certified technicians at the Chrysler place. He mounts the tires and sends me on my way. Guess what. The freaking tire pressure light comes on!! By now i have tested every light on my dash with only 4700 miles!! I spin around and got back to the dude who, by the way, has a long Mohawk. Don’t ask for pictures, I couldn’t get one. He tells me that he has program the computer to accept the new tires. Twenty more minutes fall off of my existence and I can finally go.

So I am waiting on a second head. Lord only knows what happens next. As for me, I’m just tired.

A few weeks ago Michele was surfing the net as she is prone to do and found that the Lucas Theater was having a Cary Grant film tribute. The Lucas was going to show three Grant movies. They were North by Northwest, The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer and Arsenic and Old Lace. Michele and I both love Cary Grant and were excited to get to see something in the historic Lucas Theater. I was able to purchase tickets for both of us for all three movies online and print them at home. I love this convenience because it is a peace of mind thing with me. I won’t have to worry about seat availability and I’m just weird that way.

A few days after purchasing the tickets I got a phone call from an employee of the Lucas Theater and she told me that the time of one of the movies was incorrect on the internet but correct on the ticket. I have mixed feelings about this. I was a little surprised that a theater would make such a mistake but certainly impressed at the effort they were going to to correct their error. I was driving when she called me so I couldn’t write down the time correction so we were early anyway.

We arrived downtown and encountered what I knew would be a problem. Nowhere to park. I didn’t look long and decided to park in a private parking garage. This wound up costing more than the price of a ticket to the movie and I learned my lesson. We strolled around the downtown area before we took a seat in Reynolds square. There was a saxophonist playing in the square and it was soon very clear as to why he was not in a local blues club. Lets just say he will never be in danger of higher tax brackets from his coin in hat income.

After the sloppy sax solo we went on over to the Lucas and took care of the first order of business, popcorn. Unauthorized and unhealthy snack in hand it was time to find a seat. We discussed our options with an Usher and one thing became very clear. Don’t sit in the box seats. It seems they are privately owned and they are fiercely protected. We sat in the balcony almost dead center. As always we were early to the movies but this time it gave us a chance to observe the theater. The Lucas is certainly a beautiful building and is a wonderful place to spend an evening. The staff of the theater conducted a raffle before the movie started and of course we didn’t win. No Mr. Strickland, not you.

We watched North by Northwest and had a pleasurable experience.  The only complaint that I can muster is that the seats  are definitely historic. Michele and I were both squirming around like two children wanting to get out of church by the time the movie was over.

Knowing that Sarah has a love of the theater we invited her to come with us for the double feature the next day. I found a legal FREE parking spot and then we walked around killing time before the first movie started. As always, the afternoon was filled with Sarahisms and Sarah logic. Things like, “A man without a little toe is like a cat without whiskers”. This was her response to me whining about my little toe feeling like it was going to fall off at any moment. We sat in Reynolds Square again enjoying its peace mixed with Sarah’s profound observations.

The first movie that day was “The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer”. I have to admit I had never heard of that one until this event came up. It was entertaining and showcased Grant’s natural charm and ability to be smooth yet at the same time funny. After this one we had an hour to wait before the next. We walked down Broughton Street and visited a few stores. We returned and watched Arsenic and Old Lace. This was my personal favorite of the three. By far the most entertaining.

I must say that the whole experience was wonderful as all time with Michele is. The charm and mystery of Downtown Savannah enhance any date night  and makes us appreciate the fact that we get to live here. The Lucas will be on our list of venues to visit as we seek our entertainment in our life in Savannah.

Saturday Jake and I headed to the farm to get some firewood. I had been planning this trip for quite some time. I have also been preparing for it too. Those two statements can also be taken to mean that I have been looking forward to it. Now you may ask why in the world would anyone look forward to cutting and splitting firewood. You forget that I am neither normal  or completely sane. I have been looking forward to this day for several weeks and apparently the day was waiting on my ass as well.

I am by no means Mr. Macho but I am a typical guy. I like guy tools and guy stuff. I like to know how to do guy things and I try to be a do-it-yourself man. I have learned over the last few years that there is a time to realize when  I am over my head and to “call the man aunt Bee”(a true southerner gets the reference). But there is not much to gathering wood for the fireplace or so I thought. About a year ago I bought a chainsaw. It’s the smallest gas saw you can get but it’s all I needed at the time. A few weeks ago I bought a trailer. If you don’t have a truck you need a trailer to haul wood. Right? I already had the ax, splitting maul, splitting wedge and sledge hammer. So now all I need is the most important tool, a teenager. I just happen to own one of those units and I let him know we had a mission.

On Friday night I told Jake, said teenager, to get up at 7 and we would head out for the woods. I got up at 6:45 and was ready in about twenty minutes. Jake on the other hand was still dead to the world. I rustled him up and we got a move on. The girls woke up Michele so I got to say bye to her before we left. We got a couple of Egg McMuffin’s and headed south. The farm I am referring to is the farm that my mother grew up on. We still own half of it and it is loaded with fallen trees for me to choose from. It is located in Wayne County outside of Jesup.

We get to the farm and we head into the woods. The little road my grandfather used to get to the field with his tractor is blocked by a huge fallen oak tree. The tree had not been down long and would not yet be good for firewood so we decided to go back towards the entrance of the woods where I had noticed another large tree that was down but had been down for some time. We attempt to get to work. From the beginning the chainsaw gives me trouble. It is extremely hard to start. I mean you have to pull on this thing like you are trying to lose weight. I finally get it going and I started cutting. Within five minutes the chain comes off and I’m out of commission. Did Bryan bring any tools to work on the damn chainsaw? No. No he didn’t. We unhook the trailer and head to Walmart just to buy a wrench so I can take apart the chainsaw to put the chain back on. This takes 45 minutes out of our day. I fixed the chainsaw in the Walmart parking lot just in case I needed more tools. Off to the woods we go, again.

Upon return we get back started cutting wood. I am using the chainsaw and Jake is splitting and stacking. I fight the chainsaw all day. I even got so frustrated I put the chain on inside out. I spent most of the day learning this chainsaw and must say I am now an expert. Jake was having his own troubles splitting wood but I must say he worked his ass off and got the job done. We loaded the trailer about three fourths full and called it a day. But the looming cloud of rain and knowing we still had to unload the wood at home was still present.

Once we got home a friend of Jake’s showed up at the house and we put him to work. Michele even came out to help. Between the four of us we made short work of unloading and stacking the days catch. The next day I could hardly move. I am as sore as I have ever been. With all of the troubles we had I am still contemplating doing this more often to sell the firewood. We have a plentiful source of wood and I surely do need the exercise. But man it sure is easier to watch The Sopranos on TV.

This morning I awake to a squeaky grinding noise coming from the bathroom. I knew Michele was in there getting ready for work and I was concerned the previous evening’s chili was taking it’s toll. As more consciousness came over me I could decipher  that it was her curling iron making the annoying noise. At a weak attempt for humor I asked her if she needed me to spray some WD-40 on it to cut the noise down but in a classic Tinkerbell way she didn’t get the joke and scolded me for trying to oil her hair. While she finished getting ready she asked the usual question of what was I going to do today. The answer was simple. The only things I wanted to do today was to get the tag for my trailer and build shelves in the garage. To my dismay that was not going to be the case.

After a brief discussion on the current teenager situation and how to deal with the ruffians she went to work telling me to have my attitude corrected by the time she returned. A notion I scoffed at, in my head. Of course her scolding me came after I offered to make her life easier by installing some new light switches and fixtures. It doesn’t take long for me to go from hero to zero. It probably didn’t help that I teased her about the fact that she was dressed but still scanning the closet for something to wear. I equated it to knowing what she wants to watch on TV but still scrolling through the channels just to know what else is on. A trait that I thought was only in men. She leaves and I drift back off to sleep knowing I have little to do today.

An hour later Daphne decided that it was time to get up. She does this with a gentle but painful scratch just above my hip on my right side that makes me sit straight up in the bed. With all three dogs outside it’s now time to cook breakfast. Bacon, eggs and wheat toast is quick to cook. I got myself ready and wrangled up Annabelle for a road trip. The temperature these days allows the dogs to go on trips even when I have to leave them in the Jeep. I only take one at a time because they have three different beliefs on how to mount and ride in a Jeep Cherokee. Anna and I head to Precinct Five just on the other side of the Island. I remember about a mile down the road that I have forgotten my wallet. Back to the house we go. Wallet obtained I try again. Since I am pulling the trailer I park along the back of the parking lot out of the way and head inside. The lady at the front desk is busily listening to her IPod and seems slightly miffed I bothered her. I tell her that I am there for a VIN verification and she calls someone on the intercom. Apparently they didn’t know I could hear both sides of the conversation because the officer was in a room behind me with the door open. He tells her that he will be there to help me in 15 minutes. Yes, I busted them out on that. With faces blushing he comes out to help me. This process takes about 20 minutes because he won’t listen when I tell him what the full VIN number is. VIN verified I head to the Tag Office. Again, because I am pulling the trailer I park way out in the back so I won’t block any good spaces. I walk up to the door only to find out the office is closed for lunch. Well shit.

I decide to make a run by the recycling center to throw away our old artificial Christmas tree that is riding in the trailer like a dog. I pull up and a gentleman with two teeth and a very pleasant attitude instructs me that the tree goes in one place while the box it’s in goes in another. He then gives Anna a bone which in my mind makes up for his dental absenteeism’s. I separate my stuff and head on home for my lunch.

I fire up the grill because I have a half of Rib-eye steak that has been on my mind since I halved it. I get the grill ready and lay on the wonderful piece of heaven. Then I go inside and get sucked into a movie on AMC and forget about the steak. Yep, it’s black on one side and raw in the middle when I finally realize what I’ve done. I eat said charcoal and get back to the business at hand.

I load up Daphne because it’s her turn to ride. We head back down to the Tag office where I spend about 20 minutes getting a trailer tag. No problems there. I trot over to the post office to drop off some mail. I had to go inside Kroger and surprisingly there was no drama there other than Daphne whines the whole time I was walking into the store which made me feel like crap. However, I didn’t feel too guilty because I noticed Daphne was eating the bone Anna got from two-teeth back at the dump. Daphne and I then travel across the street to the bank to ask a quick question. With Daphne putting on her best puppy dog eyes she obtained a second bone from the bank teller.

Finally we go home and settle in. There was more to the day. The children and I made a sad attempt to build a laundry table for Michele out in the garage. After Michele got home we ate supper and then Michele wrangled me into going to the hood with her to look at something for her job. I don’t mind these little details with Michele because I get her to myself. We took Olivia with us which is always a treat. A quick stop at the Yogurt place and back home we came.

I know that there are millions of people who work way harder everyday and I can appreciate that. But I went from zero to sixty today and I am flat worn out. Maybe I need to get out more often. Maybe I need to remember I am retired. Maybe I need a glass of wine and take my ass to bed. Not maybe, I am.