8/25/2009

It's Not Easy Being Me

I'll be perfectly frank here, and if you know me at all, none of this will be a surprise. I'm not good with money. I'm a smart guy. Give me math or chemistry or physics or a computer program or something, and I'm your guy. But give me a limited money situation or a budget and I'm a mess. I keep trying to bend the situation to my benefit and I always end up making the whole thing a financial abyss. I'm also not good with paper work and bureaucracy. I absolutely abhor filling out forms, faxing, and so forth. I try to do what I have to, but sometimes things slip. These facts will come into play later, but let me start back at the beginning of my latest adventures.

I told you yesterday that I'd bought some copper sulfate granules to dump into the sewer main leaving my bathroom in order to kill the tree roots. The last few days, with the water draining slow out of both the tub and the toilet, I've been able to keep the toilet functioning by only using a couple times a day. By waiting a long time between flushes, enough water seems to seep out of the system, allowing for a full flush without incident. As for myself, accustomed to flushing a few times a day more than that, I have been making sure to hit the bathrooms at Starbucks or any other place I visit.

So, last night, I figured that the time was right to dump the granules into the toilet and give it a good flush. The water immediately turned vibrant blue with the copper sulfate. I expected that, having performed an experiment with a copper sulfate solution with my dad when I was a lad. (The experiment was in electroplating. By hooking a copper penny to the positive pole of one of those big squarish batteries and an iron nail to the negative pole and then dunking both into the copper sulfate solution, you complete a circuit. The charged copper ions stream to the oppositely charged nail, completing the circuit and electroplating the nail with copper. I could be wrong about which gets attached to which battery pole, but you get the idea.) I stared at the intensely blue water and steeled myself for a flush with fingers crossed. There is a water control tube and shut-off valve just behind the toilet so I figured that was my back up in case something went wrong.

I flushed, no funnel formed, and water immediately began growing higher in the bowl. Alarmed, I reached for the shut-off knob and twisted— only to find that I couldn't twist it. It was frozen solid with disuse. Now panicking, I watched the water grow higher. I tried the knob again to no avail. I grabbed the plunger and plunged quickly, hoping I could manage to keep the water in the bowl. When things back up like this, however, I know that plunging the bowl pushes the backed up water into the tub. This it did without assisting in the bowl at all. At this point water began to run out the top of the bowl. Fortunately, just as happened a few years ago, I had a stack of clothes nearby that were destined for the trash. I started throwing old shirts and such around the bowl to both stem the water's advance and to begin soaking it up. I managed to prevent the water getting too far by the time the bowl completed the flush cycle. Fortunately, although toxic with copper sulfate, the water was only water, if you catch my meaning. ;-)

At this time it was growing close to 1 in the AM. A few minutes of thinking about the problem revealed to me that there was no place for me to take care of my bodily needs before getting a plumber to take care of the problem. Even though the bathroom was unsightly, the water was at least under control. I decided to check into a cheap motel for the night. Fortunately, there is a Motel 6 just a few miles away so I grabbed my deodorant, a clean set of clothes and jumped in the car. I've stayed in some cheap Motel 6's over the years, but somehow the one in San Bernardino rates almost $50 a night. Unfortunately, I was stuck between the proverbial rock and the proverbial hard place. A few minutes later I threw my stuff down in the room and tried to relax.

FYI" Did you know that TBS shows a lot of 'Married With Children' episodes in the middle of the night? 20 years has not made that show better or worse...

I tried to get a good night's sleep, having cranked the AC in the room as low as it would go. The mattress on the bed was a nightmare though. Apparently most people sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door because the entire mattress sloped in that direction. I felt like I was in gyroscope mode all night, counter-spinning to prevent myself from snowballing off the mattress. It was the worst night's sleep I've had for months. Thankfully the AC eventually caught up with my chilly demands.

Checkout was at Noon, and I had my alarm set for 11 AM. I woke up at 10:30 though, which is to say I finally decided to stop trying to get some decent sleep about 10:30. Thankfully, there was hot water in the shower. I got back home about Noon.

I walked across the street and talked to Steve, our local liaison for apartment services. I don't know what his official position is with our landlady, but he is a go-to when we need things. I told him about the plumbing, and he promised to contact the plumber.

Here is a good place to point out that last night, before submerging my bathroom, I also placed some 'For Sale' signs in the windows of my old car. I was told the plumber would show up about 2 PM so I jumped on my computer to kill the time. I also ate a little something that passed for breakfast. I figured the plumber would be early so I wasn't surprised when there was a knock on the door shortly after 1 PM. I was surprised, however, when it turned out to be a middle-aged couple who were stopping to ask about the car. They got a few details from me and then, interested in the car, promised to return shortly.

After they left, the plumber did show up. The plumber's name is Clint, and he is the same plumber that has been servicing all of my landlady's apartments for years... if not decades. When he serviced this exact same problem nearly two years ago, we spent an entire afternoon pursuing false leads before finally fixing the problem. We dug out the septic tank, only to discover that it was in perfect working order. We also dug out another section of the plumbing behind my neighbor's half of the house to no avail. Finally, he hauled his snaking equipment on to the roof, no easy feat considering it weighs a few hundred pounds and there were only the two of us and our elderly handyman about at the time to do the job. When he snaked the line that time, he pulled out a mass of tree roots the size of a kitten. It was dirty and matted. It was at that time that he told me about using granularized copper sulfate in the lines.

I wanted the job done quickly this time, explaining first to Steve and then to Clint that the problem was exactly the same as before. I just wanted a quick snake job from the roof. Clint was having none of that, however. I'm pessimistic enough to believe that most plumbers are great bullshit artists, finding ways to make sure they get to charge $185 an hour for as many hours as possible. Clint immediately went for the back of the house, on my side, determining where the main should run out from under the house. Unfortunately, this was under some concrete. Nothing I said could persuade him to snake from the roof first. So, to make things easier, I drove my new car out of the driveway, allowing Clint to back his truck up as close to the problem area. Then, once he and his assistant began scraping away ivy and using their shovels to break up the concrete, I settled down at the computer again, hoping to make the time pass, but staying close so I could run things from inside when needed.

After a few short minutes, there was a knock at the door again. I figured it was Clint, needing something, but it was once again the couple interested in my car. She wanted to drive the car up and down the block to see how bad it was, which presented a problem as it was now mostly blocked into my driveway by Clint's truck. We used a few bricks and concrete blocks, though, and I roughed it up and over one small obstacle and then down the driveway. She drove the car down the street and back, even more impressed with the car now. they definitely wanted to buy it.

Here's where I need to explain that the car is out of registration currently. I paid up the registration last year (in 2008), but I didn't pursue getting the tags because the car was not mobile at the time. The car was fixed and mobile again for a few months in Autumn of '08, and shortly after I was laid off, I had it smogged so I could complete the registration process. (It's been legally insured the entire time.) However, as soon as I completed the smog test, the radiator started up with its problems. Disgusted with the car at this time, and refusing to sink more money into it, I let the registration process slide again. This is where me being bad with paperwork and such comes in because I let the intervening time go by without doing anything about the registration. i figured it was going to cost too much money to get everything squared, and in the back of my head I thought I would eventually let the car go to a junk yard, not needing everything to be 100% legit.

Here was this couple, however, who really wanted to buy the car. They said they would pay any registration fees and they volunteered to call the DMV to see what else needed to be done. They drove off a second time, promising to call me back with and info they found out.

You know, if this was a movie, we would due for an intermission at this point, a proper entr'acte. Feel free to get up, stretch, get yourself some popcorn, and hit the bathroom. I'll be here when you get back. :-)

Meanwhile, Clint and his assistant met with some success behind the house. I checked in on them only find that they had found the main they were looking for. My earlier distrust was a bit mollified by this. Clint had said all along that he wanted to find this main and then install a cleanout so that future visits would be much, much easier. It looked as if we was right all along. I went back inside again as they commenced with the actual snaking operation. (This was the heavy duty snake they were using, not the 'light' one Clint had previously used on the roof.)

I had to unplug my router in order for Clint to have a plug for his snake. That meant I was restless because I couldn't do anything over the internet. I didn't trust myself to read because I was so tired from the poor night's sleep. So, after a few minutes I went back outside to observe the snaking process. I arrived in time to see Clint wrangling a mass of roots out of the main. And by 'mass of roots' I mean a veritable anaconda of roots. I could hardly believe the length or mass of the entanglement. I shook my head. It was no wonder things were backing up. In fact, it was hard to believe that anything was flowing through at all. I am still in awe when I see the mass in my mind's eye.

Clint had me flush the toilet a few times to make sure there were no problems going the other way, back into the house. It was my pleasure to see a deep, strong funnel form in the bowl with each flush. I went back outside to report my success. At this time, Clint asked me if I had ever seen a sewer rat before. I laughed because he had pulled this joke on me two years previous. At the time, he shook the mass of extracted roots as his 'sewer rat'. I told him that he'd pulled that joke on me previously. We both laughed and he let it pass. A few minutes later, however, he started asking me if I was scared of tarantulas. He then started talking about catching one at a house down the street recently. He said this as he walked back to his truck. I knew another practical joke was in the offing, but I followed him to the truck. he reached into the cab and pulled out a small crinkled paper bag. Thinking he might have a real dead tarantula, I backed away from him and the bag, telling him I didn't need to see it. This did not dissuade him, however, and he lobbed a rubber spider at me. We both laughed. Though I am still a bit distrustful of his plumberly ways, he is a fun guy to be around.

While Clint and his assistant were cleaning up, I received a call from Charlotte and Celo, the couple interested in my car. The DMV told them that registration of my car would be $153, which they agreed to pay. Unfortunately, the DMV also told them that there was a lien against my car. This was definitely a surprise until they told me the lien holder First American. Apparently, when I paid off the car I was supposed to do something after they sent me the pink slip. This falls into the category of me being bad with paperwork. Fortunately, the DMV said that the lien holder in these cases can usually be contacted to re-complete the issue. So, all I have to do now is fax a copy of my registration to the First American credit union. This kind of rigmarole is why I hate paperwork to begin with, even though I'm aware that the problem grew out of hand because of my own irresponsibility.

And, as for the plumbing, there is a big hole behind my house and an exposed main. Clint said that he is going to have to return tomorrow or Thursday in order to install the clean out that he promised.

After he left, I fled, packing up everything and coming here to Starbucks. I have to go back tonight and clean up the mess in the bathroom, but I had to get away for now.

As Kurt Vonnegut once used in a book, "And so it goes."

Back soon!

"No problem is so formidable that you can't walk away from it."— Charles M. Schulz

PS: While I was writing this at Starbucks, Blogger bombed out so I am copying and pasting and posting this later, from home. On the way home, I passed the following church sign. I just had to take a picture. I didn't even know He gave massages...


No comments: