Monsters of the deep

After the hair pulling finally of the 24, it's been time to return to the regularly scheduled programming.

The return to the projects at had began with the search for actual factory paint for the 930 project. While it would have been easier to just hop on the intronet, type in a few key words and wait for some mystical place in the Amazon to deliver me a can matching the code.

But I want everything to be perfect, exact. I wanted to have a tiny little can of Espresso brown metallic sitting on the shelf with the crest on it. Glowing down on me from high above. It's weird, maybe indulgent, very much obsessive. It's the little things though. 

So I grabbed the phone and rang up the dealer. I was excited, waiting for those magic words "Yea, no problem, it'll be about a week, we'll call you when it comes in", alas that was not to be.

Not only do they not provide such a product, I hung up the phone with the definite impression that I just annoyed him by calling in the first place. I know I couldn't get away with that when I pick up the phone, but I'll let Karma and the God's of Speed deal with his future. Instead it'll be back to the webs of the world to find my coveted color.

While I wait I opened the can of worms lying beneath the dashboard of the Black Pearl. No taillights, no worries, hast to be the switch. All other lights function clearly and correctly, just as Mother intended.

I took to the web to find the actual part number from the local parts store, I have lost all faith in their ability to look things up on their own. It's far more efficient for me to provide them the number when I walk in. They save face and I don't risk an anurism in frustration.

Despite the best laid plans, that was not the crack in the hull. Somewhere in the web of wires that snakes around the column and out to the taillights is a failure, sitting there, mocking.

Like Ahab's white wale, my nemesis has arrived, electronic monster flouting around, just when I've already pre-registered for a show.

"Curse you!!"