Fry's Ordeal

The day pumpkin and wifey left for Taiwan, June 6th, 2010, my computer started wheezing and beeping. I could tell that what was happening was the CPU fan was starting to fail, causing thermal overheating and thus the warning beeps. Since it has been about 4 years since the last time I upgraded, I figured it would be a good time to build a new computer. I usually do all my own upgrading, putting together a new motherboard, CPU and ram since it is pretty simple stuff to do. This particular upgrade turned out to be the upgrade from hell as you shall see.On Monday morning, I scanned the latest Fry’s ads for motherboard/CPU specials. There was a good special going on with a AMD Phenom quad 4 processor. I hopped in the car for the 25 minute drive up Hazel Ave to the Fry’s in Roseville to make the purchase.

An hour and half later, I was back home, busy putting everything together. I didn’t waste any time and by early afternoon, I was ready to flip on the power switch. I turned it on and nothing happened. I checked all my connections and knew something wasn’t right so I figured that it was worth a trip back to Fry’s. At the service desk a technician took a look at the computer and found the problem right away. There is a secondary 12v power supply connection on the Gigabyte motherboard that I had missed, probably because it was a 6 pin connection and my power supply had only a 4 pin connection. I asked the technician if it was okay to plug in a 4 pin male to a 6 pin female and he said "Oh sure, no problem." Okay, I could accept that and feeling a little embarrassed, I packed up the unit and took it back home. As soon as I got home, I turned on the power and it did the POST (power on self test) with no problem. Okay, that’s good. Next step was the operating system install. I put in the Windows XP disk and started the install. Usually when I get to this point, the job is pretty much over since the operating system installs itself and just asks me to plop in a CD when it needs a particular driver. However, this time, I got the blue screen of death at about the halfway point. WTF? I checked all my connections and everything looked fine. Now what? Time to take it back to Fry’s. This time another technician took a look at it and said, "I know what your problem is. You have to install Windows 7." "Are you sure?", I asked . That seemed kind of strange. "Oh, yes. Look right here." And he showed me on the side of the Gigabyte MB box a sticker that said Windows 7 compatible. Okay, I guess he must be right so I packed up the unit and took it back home. I had to pay $100 for Windows 7 Home Premium edition, I justified this purchase because I had always promised myself that eventually I would replace my aging Windows XP system. I put in the disk and the install bombed with a memory address error at about the halfway point. Not again!, I thought to myself. That same afternoon, I got in the car yet again for another trip to Fry’s. By this time, I am starting to get frustrated. Some people would already be dropping their unit from a 20 story building but I am not the type to be easily defeated. I was determined to get it working. At the service desk, I told the technician that I was having problems installing Windows 7 and could they do it for me. Certainly, for $100. Okay, I guess I have to do it. I dropped off the unit and drove home. There was something nagging in the back of my mind about Windows XP not being compatible with an AMD Phenom quad 4 processor and when I got home, I called AMD directly and the support tech guy said that is absolute nonsense that their Phenom processors only work on Windows XP systems. In any case, the next day, the unit was ready for pickup. When I got to the service desk, I asked the technician if he encountered any issues during the install. "Nope, everything was fine," he said. "Are you sure?", I asked. How come he didn’t have any problems and I did? Was there something magical going on? Life wasn’t fair. I took it home and powered it on. It didn’t even get as far as the initial windows splash screen before a memory error came on and when I rebooted it, I got the blue screen of death. Something like bad_pool_not_equal. I was starting to get a little fussy. How many trips have I made? 4 and counting. That is 20 miles/trip which is 40 miles roundtrip or 160 miles. Time for trip #5. At the service desk, I explained my problem and also pointed out that AMD quad 4 processors should work fine on Windows XP. "We have to do some diagnostics", the tech guy told me. Well, duh! How come that wasn’t done during the Windows 7 system install? I can’t imagine that install going without a hitch. "Don’t worry, we’ll find the problem." Famous last words. In any case, I had to leave the unit with them and wait for the results. The next day which was Friday, I called to ask how things were going. "Still performing diagnostics", the support desk answered. "How long is this going to take?" "Try calling tomorrow." Alright. I suppose I could deal with one more day without the computer . After all, I have 4 other computers at home so it is not like I am left high and dry. Regardless, I was anxious to get this issue resolved. The next day, I called in the afternoon. "Sorry, the guy working on it is not here. Try again tomorrow." Now I am getting pissed. See how long it took? I could have gotten pissed back on Wednesday when the Windows 7 install bombed. And looking back, that should have been when I trusted my instincts and thrown in the towel. But I don’t give in very easily. But the operating system issue was bugging me. Why should I have had to buy Windows 7 if it was supposed to work with Windows XP? I decided that it was time to return everything. I should get a refund on the operating system install because the tech guy gave me wrong information and I had an email from AMD supporting my argument. I got to the support desk and showed the tech guy the email from AMD. Okay, he said. He was getting ready to give me a screwdriver to dismantle the system right there to remove the MB and other parts so I could return it. Just before he handed me the screwdriver, another tech guy, Josh said, "I was the one who worked on it and everything works fine." Okay, I wanted to see proof. He turned it on and it seemed to boot fine . However, he did mention something about a graphics dll file in windows system32 that had to be replaced. That’s weird but okay, what else could I say? No charge on the diagnostics but this was definitely going to be the last time. I took it home and booted up. It froze midway during the windows startup. That’s it. No mas. I promptly removed everything and placed all the parts in the original packaging and jammed up Hazel Avenue to return it. The woman at the service desk was getting ready to refund me everything including the operating system install but there was just one little problem. I had forgotten to include the I/O thermal plate. Without that tiny piece of metal, she wouldn’t give me a refund on the motherboard. I did get a credit for everything else and drove home to pick up the remaining piece. Altogether about 7 trips back and forth for a computer upgrade. I resolved that I was never going to Fry’s again for computer parts or service. And so ends my 8 days of hell with Fry’s.

Technology and Living Beyond our Means

As much as it is tempting to want to lash out at Obama, BP, the MMS or Bush or whoever is a convenient enough target, we are all collectively responsible for this mess. Our failure to demand a transition away from fossil fuels over the last 50+ years is rooted in a culture that encourages a self-indulgent lifestyle. Encouraged by the media, we consume resources far more than any other country in the world. In our society, bigger is always better. More horsepower, more towing capacity,  bigger engines, faster acceleration always take precedent over any annoying reminders that there is somehow a connection between our consumer behavior and the predicament we find ourselves in.  The thought of living within our means instead of beyond our means is anathema to the American spirit of individual liberty and freedom of choice. Feeling  helpless to change this dynamic, we angrily attempt to fix the blame anywhere we can to avoid the awful reality that the spill in the Gulf is  nothing more than a symptom of this lifestyle we have chosen.

Naked Woman in the Window

I like to take my Denio’s personal shopping cart with me whenever I go to Bel Air Market to go shopping. I am probably the only one in Gold River that likes to walk to the market. At first it felt a little strange because not many people expect to see some middle-aged guy pulling a personal shopping cart through the store. These small shopping carts have two wheels and a handle for pulling groceries. I like to use it because it is convenient and it allows me to walk to the market and walk the dog at the same time. I could try and stuff everything in my backpack but when I am buying 2 gallons of milk, that just doesn’t work out well. So the shopping cart is the best solution for me. Anyways, that was getting off the subject a little bit. Gold River is somewhat unique in that it sits adjacent to the American River close to the Nimbus Hatchery. Within Gold River is a series of villages. Each village has its own homeowners association. It is a well-planned community with plenty of greenbelts and a network of paved trails that connect the villages together along with a couple of access trails that lead to the American River. There are more than a few ways to get to Bel Air Market from our house. I could walk straight down Gold Country Blvd all the way to Gold Field Drive and then left on Gold Field. However, there is a shortcut that cuts through two villages and is more direct and that is the shortcut I took on my way back from the market. I typically buy milk at night and although the streets are well-lit, the paved paths between the villages are not lit at all so it is nearly pitch black. While walking back last night, dog in one hand, shopping cart in the other, I noticed a two story house in Maidu Village with the blinds completely drawn away. From my vantage point, I could clearly see an empty bedroom with a large bed off to one side. What caught my attention, however, was what happened next. A completely naked woman suddenly appeared from the left side of the room and began doing stretching exercises against the bedpost. Yes, I suppose I could have covered my eyes and continued walking but curiosity always gets the better of me and I stopped in my tracks to watch. She continued to stretch her legs for a while and suddenly jumped into the bed and threw the blankets over herself. I am sure that she never imagined that someone would be out there on the trail that night.

Heaving Washing Machines out of Pit

Today I took Fluffy for her usual morning walk. The air was cool and crisp and the sky was overcast. I usually like to head west towards the Sunrise Bridge but today I decided to head over to the equestrian trail that runs along the river heading east towards the Nimbus Hatchery. This turned out to be much more scenic than just simply following on the side of the bike trail. As soon as Fluffy saw the river, she got excited at the ducks and gulls flying around and tried to pull me towards the water. No way were we getting near that water, not when the temperature is probably something like 50 degrees Fahrenheit. The trail was narrow and somewhat muddy but no horse crap anywhere which had the effect of lifting my spirits.

We got to the end of the line which was where the trail dropped off sharply towards the water and from there it looked nearly impossible to go further even though I saw a brave woman making her way towards us from the other side. We followed an exit trail which ended up at the bike trail, crossed over and then up the other side. This led us to the Gold River trail that linked the western paved spur to the end of the Sunrise recreation area paved road. From there, we crossed over the spur and then over to the road which led to the Nimbus Hatchery. Near the Dept of Fish and Game employee entrance, we left the road and headed back towards another trail that runs through the tailing hills that had been left there over 70 years ago. The history of Gold River is tied to the dredging of the American River. In fact, Gold River is built on a giant pile of rocks. The tailings are the rocks piled up from the dredging. The numerous rock piles have created small valleys that look like small mining pits. There is a pit that is next to the trail we were on that is somewhat close to the adjacent neighborhood of houses. Scattered in this pit are the remains of some old appliances that look like they had been dumped there illegally a long time ago. I pass by this area frequently because it is so nice and peaceful. But every time I pass by this pit, I have to see the rusted remains of washing machines. I have thought about hauling them out of the pit but I always forget to bring my gloves.

Today was different. I decided I had had enough. I quickly took Fluffy home because this was not something she needed to witness and I didn’t want her in the way. My plan was to get some rope and tie it around these rotted metal carcasses, then tie the other end of the rope around my waist and pull them out one by one. The excitement began to build as I grabbed my gloves and some heavy duty rope that I knew would come in handy one day, stuffed them in my backpack, jumped on my bike and pedaled furiously back to the pit. Once there, I checked to see if anyone was around. Not that I really cared. But sometimes people can get confused and think that a good deed is actually something more malevolent if they don’t see the whole picture.

I ran down the hill to the bottom of the pit to size up my challenge. There were 4 machines down there plus something farther away which was also metal but I couldn’t tell what it was. I walked over to machine #1 and looped the rope through a couple of holes at the bottom. Then I pulled but it wouldn’t budge. I pulled harder and it made some creaking noises but it was obvious that this machine was in no mood to go anywhere. Okay, so much for plan a. The only remaining option was to lift the machine up and then push it end over end up the hill. It was a good thing I brought my working gloves because I could see that bare handed I would get cut up pretty badly from all the sharp rusted metal edges.

I don’t where the energy came from to do this. Maybe it was the cup of instant coffee I had just before I took Fluffy for a walk but that was over an hour ago. Anyways, these motherfing sons of bitches were exiting the pit if it took all night. To tell the truth, I really had no idea how long each one would take because frankly, I don’t recall doing this kind of project before. So here I was pushing the machine end over end. As the heavy end hit the ground, it made a calamitous noise. The hardest part was getting the machine over the steep rocks near the top. But I had a rhythm going - not a Latin dance rhythm because you can’t exactly dance with an old washing machine. But I had a rhythm nonetheless that helped me heave this thing up the hill. Finally, I pushed it over the crest of the hill and let it crash down the other side. By this time, I was drenched in sweat. The machine probably weighed well over 150 pounds and there were three more machines down there yet to be moved. Machine #2 turned out to be an old dryer which weighed about half of what the first one weighed. I pushed that up in less than 5 minutes. The last two were heavier but I was determined to get the job done. By now my clothes were dirty and the sweat had soaked through my shirt and even through my sweatshirt. The last item was the object that was 30 yards away all by itself. I went over to it and was surprised to discover that it was not another washing machine but an old metal Sacramento Bee newspaper stand. I am sure it was vandalized and then dumped there after it was emptied of its loot. Quite a bit smaller than the other objects but still heavy, I heaved it over the top.

The hard part completed, all that was left to do was to line them up. Why? Was it because I wanted them to stand at attention as they waited for their ultimate fate? No, I plan to go back there tomorrow and take some pictures of them because if I am going to spend this much time blogging about this event, I have to get some pictures to document it as well. Now I was officially done. I went back down the hill to retrieve my backpack and rope and saw a man walking his dog out of the corner of my eye. “Hey” he said, “did you haul all those up yourself?” “Yep” I answered. Another couple walking by also stopped. “Bravo”, they all yelled and started clapping their hands.The first man then told me that he remembers those washing machines being there when he was just a little kid. Can you imagine that? It took 30-40 years before someone decided to do something about it. But how good it felt to do it and then to have some people actually applauding was just icing on the cake. Stay tuned for pictures.

Letter to President Obama

Dear Mr. President:

Jobs, jobs, jobs. How come you didn’t see the writing on the wall? You came into office on the campaign promise that you were going to fight for the little guy. What happened? Instead, you surrounded yourself with cabinet members aligned with Wall Street and the first thing you did was bail out the banks followed by the bailout of our failing auto industry. The little guy like me got scraps. People like myself are still struggling with trying to get loan modifications and wondering how to make ends meet when no one is hiring. My wife works for the state of California and she has to put up with lost wages from being furloughed. Sure, I voted for you because like you I strongly believe that protecting the environment, slowing global warming and making health care affordable are worthy and noble causes. I also believe that transitioning to a fossil free economy is the best way to stimulate the ingenuity and creativity of our collective intelligence. One of the problems that I am sure you are aware of is that the American people #1: Have a short memory; and #2: Have limited patience. Yes, there is no mistaking that you inherited a horrendous mess from that village idiot but your window of opportunity was much shorter than perhaps Rahm Emanuel led you to believe. The first signal that you were heading in the wrong direction was the angry tea party demonstrations and acrimonious townhall meetings (By the way, I attended one held by Dan Lungren but never made it inside). That should have driven home the message to you that people were not ready for health care reform. Who wants health care reform when people are desperate for a job? But instead of confronting the anger and hostility, your administration along with the Democrats in Congress played down the significance of this anger and essentially brushed it off as the rantings of right wing nutcases.Now you are confronted with a second signal. The loss of a key Senate seat in one of the most liberal states in the country threatens to derail your entire agenda, not just health care reform. You think the Republicans are going to go along with anything you propose now that they smell blood? All your political capital has been exhausted on this ill-timed strategy and Republicans are in no mood to compromise on any part of your agenda. You even have to deal with holding the blue dog Democrats together, let alone trying to throw olive branches over to the other side of the aisle. So here is my suggestion. Focus on the little guy. Focus on small businesses because small businesses hold the key to hiring people again, not the big lumbering auto industry. Instead of a trillion dollar health care reform bill, invest heavily in upgrading our country’s infrastructure. Give generous tax breaks to small businesses that invest in green technology. Make education a top priority since that is where you are going to get the biggest bang for every dollar spent. First, improve public schools by holding schools accountable for their students’ academic results. Higher education also needs a complete overhaul. Universities and Colleges are simply too expensive for a majority of Americans. Most students end up being saddled with mountains of debt when they graduate. Universities must be forced to offer low cost higher degree programs to all who are motivated through online web-based learning programs. By turning higher education from a privilege available only to the few that can afford it to an opportunity for many, a more educated workforce will drive our economy forward in the next few decades.Your staff also needs a shakeup. I would like to see Paul Krugman in a prominent position in your cabinet. I am sure he would be honored to serve your administration.So there you have it. Good luck and please do not forget who got you into office.

Fiesta de Navidad en Palmdale

On Christmas eve, my brother took me and Pumpkin to his parent’s house in Palmdale. This is the annual fiesta that the de Guzman’s have where most of the family gathers to have fun into the wee hours of the night. We drove in two cars - Pumpkin and Sarah in the Subaru with Teri and Matthew (big boy) with Eric and I in the Toyota. We left around 6 PM and headed up the 170 to the 5 north. I enjoy those moments in the car with Eric because that is really a good time to catch up on life and get into some good, meaty discussions. Things were going okay, but Eric was worried about Matthew getting strangled by his seat belt since he had fallen fast asleep and his head was leaning off to one side.  I checked a few times and confirmed that big boy was just fine. Still, Eric was nervous enough to suggest that I drive while he sat in back. No problem. We stopped at a gas station and did the switch. There were a lot of cars moving in and out of the gas station and as I carefully guided the car out of the station, Eric commented on how I drive like a grandma. I didn’t deny it. In fact I wear that grandma driving badge proudly because I always believe that being careful is better than being reckless. Onward we went. The traffic was slow like thick blood moving through the arteries of an old, balding Jewish man who likes to wolf down slabs of cream cheese drenched bagels. Finally the traffic cleared up and it was smooth sailing on the 14 east to Palmdale. We exited the freeway and Eric had a little trouble locating the street to turn on. We missed the turn and I had to do a u-turn at the next street. We arrrived at the house and knocked on the door. After a few seconds Beto answered and welcomed us in. I greeted Teri’s parents and her sisters. Her sisters came up to say hello and hug me but I wasn’t sure who was who. I know Lupita (Pita) and Lourdes but her other sisters like Carmen and Chele. I know Teri will read this post and give me the guidance I so desperately need. On a side note, I started an online family tree that I hope Teri can contribute to so the information will be close at hand if needed in the future. I am bad at remembering names, even my own relatives.I sat down while Pumpkin went off to play. Teri’s sister (Teri - name please) offered me a bowl of pozole, a traditional Mexican soup eaten at important occasions. I have had it before and it tasted really good. Beto had made a giant bowl of hot salsa which I added to the pozole along with all the other good stuff like lettuce and raddish. This was a good opportunity to speak in Spanish since, well, everyone there spoke. David (Lourdes’s husband) brought in a Karaoke player. This was what I had anxiously prepared for. I like to sing songs in Spanish as well as collect lyrics to songs I particularly enjoy. Not knowing what the setup would be, I had gone into my own Yahoo group to fetch some lyrics to some songs and had them in my back pocket just in case. There is nothing more embarrassing than to stand up and try and sing a song and not know all the lyrics. I was determined to make sure that would never happen on my watch. After Beto got it set up, he brought over a bottle of Tequila and asked if I wanted a shot before I started. "Ahora no necessito", I replied confident that I could belt out a song without the loosening effects of alchohol. I began crooning out the songs, "Volver, Volver", "Mexico Lindo Y Querido", "Guadalajara, Guadalajara" and so forth. Somehow, hearing my own voice gave me the willies. Why? I usually sing in my head and only sometimes sing out loud when I am listening to a song on the Internet. Now that I was singing with a microphone in my hand, the high notes just didn’t sound as good as they sound in my head. After the first song, I decided that a lo mejor, deberia tomar un trago de Tequila. So I downed a shot or two with lime and that felt better. Throughout the night I alternated between joining in with the singing and watching my brother play scrabble with Miguel and some of the teenage boys - Chino, Eric and Francois. Time went by quickly. It came time to open Christmas presents. The teenagers came first, followed by the little ones and then the adults. Pumpkin ended up with a large, soft pillow in the shape of a cartoon character and some little toys. As it got later, she came up to me and told me she was bored because the other little girls were not really playing. I tried to help her out but I could tell she was getting tired. It got later and the teenagers invited me to join in a game called Mafia. I said sure and listened as Francois began explaining how this mystery game played with cards worked. Halfway through the explanation, Eric came over and asked if I was ready to go. It was already 11:30 and Pumpkin was half asleep. I decided that it was a good time to go so I said goodbye to everyone and we left. Teri stayed behind while Eric and I tucked the three little ones into the back seat of the Subaru. We started off and by the time we got on the freeway a few minutes later, Sarah was snoring and all three of them were fast asleep. But a new crises arose. The gauge on the gas tank read empty. This was not good. We were starting up the hill to leave Palmdale and it was getting more sparsely populated. We debated about whether we should turn around. Finally, Eric assured me that there was a gas station up ahead a few miles. Fortunately, we made it to the gas station and after we tanked up, we got into some more meaty discussions as we made our way home.

Traveling on Amtrak

Pumpkin and I took the Amtrak train from Van Nuys to San Juan Capistrano yesterday. On the way down to Orange County, we decided to get some snacks in the dining car. While waiting to pay for our food, we heard an angry woman shout out, "where is my water?" What the hell? There were 10 people waiting in line and suddenly this woman was demanding water. She then went on to rant about how she had a business class ticket and she wanted her god damn water delivered to her seat. The poor cashier did his best to placate her. He even apologized for the staffing shortage due to the holidays and tried to convince her to return to her seat. The woman, too agitated and angry about not being served in her seat, marched over to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottled water and stomped off while shouting how she was never going to ride Amtrak again. Good, I hope she doesn’t. The world needs less of these kind of people.