The following takes place between 3 PM and 4 PM, on the day of the California Presidential Primary

I'm Jon Kenworthy, and this is the longest day of my life.

OK, so it wasn't that bad. But today I finally replaced the garbage disposal in our kitchen. Seems that if you use Drain-o in the disposal that after time it will eat away the seals inside and in time start a drip that will fill a gallon bowl up over-night. So, after some serious reflection and purchasing two, (count them, TWO) separate disposal units, I finally elected to waste the majority of a Saturday afternoon on it's replacement.

So there I was, last week, walking through the Costco. Ironically I started out my lunch half-hour on a mission to find some gloves for the heavy bag. Wait, let me back up even further. So, there's a heavy bag in the new Rec Center. So I go up to the young girl at the counter, with my two bucks in hand, and ask to borrow some heavy bag gloves, for as to beat this canvas bag into submission over my frustrations in the immediate days preceeding. However, she gave me this blank stare and said that there were no gloves for which to be had. So, then I realized we also have a heavy bag at work, which nobody ever uses, andt this could potentially be a good alternative exercise which will not call into question your masculinity (see also, "Pilates"). Anyhow, so I start out looking for a Big Five or a Sports Authority, but the lights of the big city of Sandy were just too much for me. In a tragic twist of irony, I recalled that Costco, in addition to foot-long hotdogs (make your own joke) also sells some reeeeeally greasy pizza, and after all, it WAS lunch time.

So I'm in this Costco, sitting there trying not to let the sticky chairs stick to my uniform, watching people go buy and pounding down my two (yes, they are LARGE pieces of pizza, I'd forgotten how big and ordered two) pieces. From thence, I decided to walk the isles perhaps happening past a depository of boxing equipment and paraphenalia. Which, of course I didnt. However, what I DID happen past, was a garbage disposal, of the $79 kind. See, I'd already purchased one the week prior for just over a hundred dollars MORE than that. Oh this was the whisker quiet one. Yeah, I said whisker. Like a kitty meow meow meow kitty meow. Anyhow, I also opted for the 3/4 horse power one, as I figgered that the potato skins that wouldnt process in the current 1/3 horse model may just not be a problem now. Well, fast forward back to the near present past. To that fateful day in the isle at Costco. So, this particular model, is a 1 1/4 horse model. More than ...2 time..no wait..1/3...plus 1/3...plu...anyhow it was a BUTT-LOAD more powerful that either of the two models I had.

So, of course I bought it. I figured it was a sign really. So, I got it, and there it sat on the shelf in the garage until today. Oh, and for good reason. I was hoping that somehow I could flood the kitchen with the continuous drip, and I was getting used to that acrid smell of rotting...everything but potato skins coming from under the sink. Anyhow, today I ran low on excuses and decided to replace it.

So, I get this thing out of the box, and this is the part I wish to underscore. I READ the directions. NO, not skimmed through the Spanish and French sides, actually READ the English directions. Top to bottom! Including the "IMPORTANT: READ FIRST" part. I was so very proud of myself. Times past I have often declared that instructions were just some other man's opinion. Much like stereo instructions...or speed limit signs. More of suggestions than cold-hard facts really.

So, I begin to tear the old R2 Unit out. Of course it's dripping all over. Down my arm, into my hair...etc. You get the picture. Of course Stacey had placed a towel down that morning to soak up what the Tupperware bowl didnt, but at this point a down comforter couldnt have soaked it all up. Anyhow, so we emptied the sink, pulled out all the crap from under the sink, including the unused fishbowl, the waterlogged soap biscuits for the dishwasher, the fire extinguisher (which I had NO idea was under there) and all the other sundries. So, I wedge my fat little toad-body into the hole and commence to grunting and sweating and ....alas...cursing. I believe I said some really colorful combinations because Stacey said, "Really??? Really??? Are you about done?" of course which the answer was a resounding, "No". I had not yet begun to curse. Mostly cause I'm good at it. I rarely get occaission to really let my imagination go wild and unleash. Well, unless you count the left-turn lane at 13400 South on your third trip to Home Depot.

Where were we? Ah yes. So, I pulled all the old unit out, got Plumber's Putty (which has nothing to do with the crack) and commenced resetting the shiny new unit in place. I gotta tell ya, I was good under the hood if you know what I mean. Went off without a hitch. I got the new 3x as big unit in there and prepared myself for the inevitable hickup that always coincides with a home decor or home improvement project. I was all set for a flux-capacitor to be the wrong size, or to have lost my upside-down left-handed ring removal tool, but no. Seriously, it just...went in. No problems. Weird really. I mean, I actually bought a $30.00 set of new Chinese plumbing wrenches and all sorts of things just in preparation for the second and third trips back to the Depot to get the one I invariably didnt have. But no. It was the weirdest thing. It just...went in. No fuss, no muss. Except of course for the constant dripping on my arm and the one time I dropped the P-trap and soaked my back where I was a-layin'.

Anyhow, so you take the good with the bad I guess. Moral of the story is we now have a Benford 2000 Garbage Disposal. Stacey is using it right now. The dang thing sounds like Niagra Falls chawing up 42 trout heads I tell you. Stacey says that was celery, apple and carrot parts. I thought it sounded like a venturi and that if we sped up just a few miles per hour there may have been a sonic boom. I think that thing would chew up a camel leg if we needed to.

Alright, I gotta go kids. We're headed over to my cousin's house for a soire' of sorts. Hotdogs, fruit platters, hamburgers. That sort of thing.
There is no moral to the story except, well sometimes things just go right I guess. Must be all that clean livin' I've been doing.

Ah, who we kiddin'? If I get to Heaven it's because Stacey dragged me along kicking and fighting because I just know we're going the wrong way and she wont listen to me.

You kids be good. Hugs and kisses and all that affectionate jazz your general direction. High fives and low-dives.


I'm out.

J