Category Archives: Uncategorized

One of the more popular posts I’ve made is called “Why I Hate That Canadian Tire Guy“.  The post isn’t really about the Canadian Tire Guy.  It’s about when I was in grade five and a drawing I made was mistakenly credited to another person in my class, Perry O’Grady.  So it could be used as the cover of our school’s newsletter, he had traced the drawing I made, and attached his name to it.
I was a little bit heartbroken when I heard some of the parents comment positively on the lovely drawing that Perry O’Grady made.

Now, it may be happening again.  A video (Driving Lights) that I wrote and directed for this past summer’s Sketch22 show is being presented at next week’s Reel Island Film Festival.  I was looking at their website and see on the Screening page that they have Driving Lights as being directed by Jason Rogerson.  Thing is, he submitted it on Sketch22’s behalf, as a Sketch22 video.  I assume since he submitted it, the assumption was made that he directed it.  I don’t know.
Trouble is, I directed it.  Meticulously.
I wouldn’t mind so much if it was some other video.  But I am really proud of the video, and it’d be nice to have it properly credited.

Sigh.

Forgot to continue posting the final two chapters of the story.
Here’s Chapter 4 of Episode 21 of The Adventures of Mythical Super Hero Anne

4.

            “It
is I who have found you, my immortal enemy!” screamed Gilzilla, the
monster from the sea. “The mind-thoughts of these three humans pondering your
reality led me right to your door.”

            If
he had not been such a fright, Gilzilla’s voice would have made the people of Japan
laugh.  He had a high pitched, rather
effeminate voice that, when he spoke, sounded like gurgling water.  His appearance was no laughing matter,
however.  He was over six feet tall, with
bright yellow hair, and green skin.  In
his hand he held a sling shot, a weapon for flinging objects of
destruction.  It was rumored by the
people of Tokyo
that he had a mighty tail which helped him swim in the sea, but Mythical Super
Hero Anne knew from past meetings that there was nothing in his pants that
resembled a tail.  She also knew that
even without a tail, he was still the most fierce and feared villainous
creature in all the land and sea.

            Mythical
Super Hero Anne stepped in between Gilzilla and her loved ones to protect them
from anything dastardly Gilzilla might try. 
Diannakiro was screaming like the little girl she was. Matthewsan stood
totally still, shocked into submission by the gruesome horror that was
Gilzilla.  Malirra closed her eyes and
began to chant prayers in a tongue that predated ancient Japanese
language. 

            “Gilzilla,
you are evil and must be destroyed!” shouted Mythical Super Hero Anne.

            “Mythical
Super Hero Anne,” said Gilzilla, in his high gurgling voice, “you are
a super hero that I once loved with all my soul, just as everyone does to this
day.  But you would not return my love,
so therefore, I swore that I would conquer the world!”  Gilzilla took two steps toward her and the
others.  “And you are in the way of
my obtaining that goal, so I must destroy you!”

            Mythical
Super Hero Anne took the famous pose that was captured perfectly in the
drawings of Avonli Comics series of Mythical Super Hero Anne comic books,
available at all newsstands.  “You
cannot destroy me,” she laughed.

            “Maybe
yes, and maybe no,” said Gilzilla, “but I can hurt deeply you by
destroying all whom you love.”

            With
a speed too quick for the human eye to see, and just barely within the range of
visual ability of Mythical Super Hero Anne, Gilzilla loaded his slingshot and
with perfect aim hit Diannakiro, Matthewsan, and Malirra in their bums with
poisonous rocks.  Before they could feel
the pain of the rocks, and before Mythical Super Hero Anne had a chance to stop
Gilzilla, all three of them fell to the floor, unconscious and quite likely
dead. Mythical Super Hero Anne was
stunned for a hyper-nano-second. She told herself to ignore the feelings of
grief that were sweeping throughout her body, and to return to the task before
her.  The time for grieving was
later.  The time for destroying Gilzilla
was at hand!

            She
looked at Gilzilla, who was standing in the doorway with his slingshot reloaded
and poised to fire at her.  “You
have destroyed all whom I care about,” she said, as the red hair and
freckled rage that fueled her awesome powers began to grow in her belly and
disperse to all parts of her being. 
“Now I will destroy you for sure!”

            With
that said, she dove across the living square, faster than the speed of sound,
towards her back pack.  Gilzilla fired
his slingshot as she dove, but missed her by centimetres.  As he was reloading another poisonous rock,
Mythical Super Hero Anne, grabbed three of the micro-slates from her backpack
and, while still in the midst of her dive, threw them all at once towards the
giant green beast.  They all hit him in the
head, one in the noggin, and two in the brainpan, just as he was firing his
slingshot.  The force of the micro-slates
knocked him backwards, causing his shot to miss its target.  He dropped his slingshot and staggered back
against the wall, breaking through the paper-mache, into the kitchen square.  He was dazed, and for all battle-purposes,
out of commission.         Mythical Super Hero Anne grabbed three
more micro-slates, and two braid-bombs and ran up to the fallen monster.   “With these braid-bombs I will destroy
you.  First, for my fallen adopted
relatives and friend, and second, for Mankind.”  She lifted a braid-bomb above her head, and
was about to throw it on Gilzilla.

            “Mythical
Super Hero Anne,” wheezed and gurgled the monster in his high pitched
voice, though now it had none of the strength and confidence it had had just
two seconds earlier, before the battle began. 
Now it did not sound the least bit funny.  She thought she detected a glimmer of
humanity in him.  He sounded almost
sad.  But she knew that was impossible,
for Gilzilla had relinquished all the sensitive human emotions when he turned
to a life of evil and revenge.  “I
had hoped we could be good friends,” he said.

            This
last remark caught Mythical Super Hero Anne off guard.  She knew she had heard him say this to her
before, but could not quite remember the circumstances.  All at once, she remembered.  She flashed back to their island home, before
she was adopted by Matthewsan and Malirra, when both she and Gilzilla were on
the Good side of super hero battles. Back then they fought well and bravely
together.  She knew, back then, that
Gilzilla had feelings of deep love for her, and she could not deny to herself
that she had similar feelings toward him. She remembered how hard it was to refuse
Gilzilla, back then, when he had asked her give up fighting Evil, so they could
live peacefully together forever. She almost did give into him, but in the end
knew that she couldn’t, that she must remain forever single.  An Evil-fighting super hero was what she
truly was, and must always remain even if it caused great hardship in her
personal life.  And, back then, ignoring
her feelings for Gilzilla, and knowing how much that hurt Gilzilla, refuse him
she did.  Saying no to him and seeing how
greatly it hurt him was the greatest hardship she had ever faced. 

            That
decision destroyed Gilzilla, the Good. It was what turned Gilzilla into the
embittered, resentful, world-obsessed Evilness that she now saw, crumpled on
the kitchen floor before her.  Yes, the
hurt she felt back then was the greatest hardship she had faced. Until now. For
now, having yet to properly grieve the loss of Matthewsan, Malirra, and
Diannakiro; and, facing the horrible task of having to destroy Gilzilla, the
monster whom she once loved and shunned, was the most difficult moment of her
life. 
Once I drop this braid-bomb, I will have nothing, thought Mythical
Super Hero Anne.  My adopted parents are gone, my kindred
spirit is gone, and now, my enemy will be gone. 
I’ll have nothing left.

            She
looked at Gilzilla, and realized she still cared for him, despite his Evil
ways.  She smiled to herself at the
thought of what might have been, and prepared to release her grip on the braid
bomb.  We had been great friends, once.

            As
if reading her mind, Gilzilla said, “But now, we’re great
enemies!”  He swung out his leg with
lightning quickness, and took the feet out from under Mythical Super Hero
Anne.  She fell to the floor, hitting her
head, rendering her dizzy.  His trick
worked!  Just as he had hoped, Gilzilla’s
remark about friendship had caused Mythical Super Hero Anne to reflect on her
past, just for a nanosecond, but long enough for him to restore some of his
powers and make his move.  He jumped to
his feet, and ran for the door, still shaken from the micro-slates, but still
able to move faster than sound.  He
paused at the door, turned and looked at Mythical Super Hero Anne.  “I cannot destroy you in this lessened
state of power.  I must return to the sea
to heal my wounds,” said the monster named Gilzilla, “but I will be
back to see you destroyed, Mythical Super Hero Anne.”  And before she had a chance to go after him,
he disappeared down the hallway, out into the city, and down to the sea.

I didn’t see all the Grammys last night, but I saw some of the production.  Seemed to me that the audio during performances was often awful, with horrendous levels between vocals and instruments.  It really made some of the performances seem second-rate.
Enjoyed the Kanye West production.  It was great to see Paul McCartney rock out.  His voice, on Helter Skelter, sounded stronger than it has in years.  Didn’t much appreciate the first song he sang, when he was plunking the piano.  I’ll blame that on the poor audio mixing, though.  And he showed up singing Yesterday in the Jay-zee/Linkin Park mashup.  Too bad the LP guy was trying to sing with Paul on Yesterday.  Too bad because, you know, he failed.  And made the song sound bad.
Coldplay.  Please wake me when their expiration date has passed.
U2.  Another solid performance by the world’s greatest ever rock band.  Didn’t like the duet with what’shername, though.
What else?
I can’t say I am in favour of the current (for a while now) trend of singers warbling their voices as they sing up and down, all around the intended note.  Is it Whitney that we blame for that?  I know she didn’t innovate it, but she certainly popularized it, no?  Hit the note and stick with it.
The Sly Stone tribute was terrible, I thought.  Again, I think that had more to do with the poor audio than anything.
The obligatory country songs performances.  I guess these artists are famous within their genre, but my goodness their songs were bland.  It’s almost a crime to call those veiled pop songs “country”.

This Grammys show won’t be winning any Emmys.

I’ve been watching The Beatles Anthology, an 8 part series documenting the history of the Beatles.  I had seen it before, but I’m really enjoying it this time around.
One thing that I found really interesting, in disk three, was when they performed in Washington DC the first time.  This was during their first trip to America, during the Ed Sullivan performances, etc.  During the Washington performance, the stage was in the centre of the hall, in the round, with the audience surrounding all sides.  After they performed a couple of songs in one direction, they’d stop the show and physically rotate the platform that Ringo’s drum kit was on.  Though, instead of having roadies come out and do the manual labour of rotating the platform, a couple of The Beatles would do it themselves.
Amazing.  How times have changed.

I’ve been watching The Beatles Anthology, an 8 part series documenting the history of the Beatles.  I had seen it before, but I’m really enjoying it this time around.
One thing that I found really interesting, in disk three, was when they performed in Washington DC the first time.  This was during their first trip to America, during the Ed Sullivan performances, etc.  During the Washington performance, the stage was in the centre of the hall, in the round, with the audience surrounding all sides.  After they performed a couple of songs in one direction, they’d stop the show and physically rotate the platform that Ringo’s drum kit was on.  Though, instead of having roadies come out and do the manual labour of rotating the platform, a couple of The Beatles would do it themselves.
Amazing.  How times have changed.

Here is chapter 2 of part 21 (The Destruction of The Loved Ones) of The Adventures of Mythical Super Hero Anne:

 2.

            Matthewsan
was sitting on the luxury futon sofa, watching the colour television. On it, a
respectable looking man, dressed in a dark suit was sitting behind a large
mahogany desk and talking.

            “…and
so”, the man was saying as he smiled, “the United States of the
1950’s became the laughing stock of the entire financial world thanks to the
Ford Motor Company’s poor selling invention called the Edsel Vehicle.  We’ll be back to American Business Blunders
after these important messages from your employer.”

            The
logo for Tondo Motor Corporation appeared on the screen, as the same pleasant
female voice from the loudspeaker at the plant said: “Attention Tondo
Motor Corporation factory workers! If you intend to rise and shine by five
o’clock tomorrow morning, it is recommended that you go to bed
immediately.  That is all.”

            The
man came back on the screen and said, “Join us next week, on American
Business Blunders, as we explain the Savings and Loan crimes.”

            Matthewsan
clicked off the television and laughed his friendly, hearty laugh.  “I love that program,” he said,
putting down the remote control. “Malirra, it is time for you to go to
bed.”

            Malirra,
Matthewsan’s sister, was commonly believed to be the oldest and wisest person
in the world.  She was, as always,
dressed in her kimono, and her white hair was done up in a bun, held to her
head with two chopsticks, which formed an ‘x’ through the bun, and her eyes
were closed.  To Matthewsan, she looked
as if she were sleeping, so he nudged her gently, and said, “Wake up and
go to sleep.  You must be up at dawn, so
that you will be able to keep all your appointments tomorrow for the people
coming to you, seeking wisdom and truth.”

            Malirra
opened her eyes and looked at her brother, as he helped her from the futon
lounger.  She was so wise that she spoke
only in riddles.  “Malirra say, ‘Bed
is the place for sleep and fun… Fun for two, and sleep for one.'”  Matthewsan laughed at this riddle as he took
her into her bedroom to put her to bed. 

           

            Finished
of cleaning the supper-time meal utensils, Toshomiko and Diannakiro came into
the living-square, having heard, through the paper wall separating the
kitchen-square from the rest of the apartment, Malirra’s latest bit of wisdom.

            “Your
adopted father-sister is a very wise woman,” said Diannakiro.

            “She
is the oldest woman in the world,” replied Toshomiko.

            “That
is why,” said Diannakiro, “people come from every city and village to
seek her advice.  You are lucky to live
in the same household as her, Mythical Super Hero Anne.”

            Toshomiko
glanced quickly to the door of Malirra’s room. 
It was closed, and she could hear Malirra and Matthewsan chanting their
prayers behind it.  She turned back to
Diannakiro.  “Please,
Diannakiro,” said Toshomiko/Mythical Super Hero Anne.  “It is important that you never call me
by my supposedly mythical super hero name. 
My adopted father and adopted father-sister cannot know that I am
Mythical Super Hero Anne, for it would put them in great mental and physical
danger.”

            Diannakiro
bowed her head, deep in shame.  “I
am sorry for almost having given you away. 
Please forgive my stupidity and carelessness.  From now on, I shall call you only by your
adopted name… Toshomiko.”

            “I
accept your shameful apology,” said Toshomiko, bowing. “I give you
forgiveness.

           

            Matthewsan
came back into the living-square. “Toshomiko.  Diannakiro.” he said.  “You two girls must also go to bed if
you want to be at the factory for morning workout.  Malirra is in the bathroom, so you will have
to wait a couple of minutes until she finishes.”

            Just
at that minute, Malirra could be heard through the wall separating the bathroom-square
from the living-square.  She had just
thought of another pearl of wisdom, and as was her custom, said it out loud so
as not to forget it.  “Malirra say,
‘Most men are standing when they pee, but women sit, just like me.'”

            As
she flushed the toilet, Matthewsan, Diannakiro and Toshomiko broke into
laughter. As the laughter subsided, Diannakiro said, “Malirra is not only
wise.  She is oftentimes witty as
well.”

            Matthewsan
nodded in agreement.  “Somebody
should write all her sayings down in a book sometime.  The publishing company I own in America would
be sure to publish it.”

            “Yes,”
said Toshomiko, “but for now we must concentrate on going to bed.  Let us listen to the news while we wait for
Malirra to finish peeing.”

            Matthewsan
clicked on the radio, and stood beside it. As he listened, he became horrified,
hearing a live news report from the streets of Tokyo.

            “…heading
towards the peaceful northern end of the city!” cried the news reporter,
above a din of wails and cries from the many thousands of Tokyons who must have
been running wildly and chaotically about the streets. “I repeat!”
cried the news reporter.  “Our
beloved city, Tokyo,
is under attack, once again, by the evil super-monster Gilzilla, who has yet
again come out from his home beneath the sea. 
He has rampaged all throughout the inner-city, destroying hotels, retail
businesses and restaurants, and countless civilians!  The mayor of our city is sending a plea to
the robotic super hero Mythical Super Hero Anne to come to our rescue yet once
again, for it seems our U.N. sanctioned tanks and aeroplanes are no match for
Gilzilla’s great ire.  He is still loose
and heading towards the peaceful northern end of the city!…I repeat!  Our beloved-“

            Matthewsan
clicked off the radio, and flopped himself down in the luxury futon sofa, so
dazed was he with concern.  “We live
in the peaceful northern end of the city! 
Gilzilla is on his way to destroy us! Our only hope now is Mythical
Super Hero Anne.”  He jumped up from
the futon.  “I must go and get
Malirra.  She will know where to find
Mythical Super Hero Anne.” 
Matthewsan shuffled out of the living-square, towards the
bathroom-square.

            Diannakiro
looked at Toshomiko, not knowing what else to do.  My friend looks so pale and
small, and strange, thought Diannakiro.  It is peculiar, she thought, that a Japanese girl would have red hair and
freckles.  Then she remembered that
Toshomiko was adopted from a far away place, an island of super heroes, where
no one looked normal.  Diannakiro
wondered if all the people from this far away place had mythical super powers
as great as Mythical Super Hero Anne’s. 
If they did, she wished they were all here now, to fight the monster
Gilzilla, for she was not sure that one super hero was enough to stop him.  She knew that Mythical Super Hero Anne and
Gilzilla had fought many times in the past, and always the fights ended in
stalemate. What tricks, if any, had Mythical Super Hero Anne learned, what
powers, if any, had she discovered since their last meeting that would ensure
Good’s victory over Evil?  Diannakiro
voiced her concern to Mythical Super Hero Anne. “Toshomiko,” she
said, being careful not to call the hero by her super hero name, “what can
you do?  Gilzilla is a horrible monster
who wreaks havoc on all that he surveys.”

            Toshomiko
looked deep into the eyes of Diannakiro. 
She could see the doubt that lingered in her.  But for all the doubt that may have been in
Diannakiro’s mind, there was none in Mythical Super Hero Anne/Toshomiko’s. With
every battle she had had with Gilzilla, she had learned a little more about his
techniques and style of battle.  She was
more confident than ever that she would defeat Gilzilla this time.

            To
assuage Diannakiro’s fears Toshomiko/Mythical Super Hero Anne performed her now
famous super-hero pose- hands on hips, feet slightly wider than shoulder length
apart, chin thrust proudly out- and said, “I will fight Gilzilla and
destroy him!”  The surety in her
voice instantly calmed Diannakiro’s worried mind, so strong was its conviction.  “This time I will make sure that he is
destroyed.  Not like last time, when he
was able to slip through the Sunday School Picnic trap I set for him.”
(see The Adventures of Mythical Super
Hero Anne, Part 19, “Carrot Stew For Me And You”. ed. note)

You got your penny, your nickel, your dime, quarter and loonie.  But why isn’t the two dollar coin spelled with a “two” at the beginning?  I’ve been spelling it toonie.  Have I been wrong all this time?
Don’t think so.

Back in the very first year that we produced Annekenstein, I had written a little sketch that pretended that Anne of Green Gables was a Japanese superhero.  The sketch was performed as if it was dubbed into English.  We had a pre-recorded soundtrack complete with stilted-English dialogue, while we pretended to mouth the words as if we were silently speaking Japanese.  It was a pretty strange sketch.
Anyway, a couple of years after that, and because I liked the idea of AoGG actually being a Japanese superhero, I decided to write that sketch out as a short story, pretending that this particular story is but one in a series of Mythical Super Hero Anne stories for Japanese girls.
I now present, in chapter form, that story to you, if you care to read it.

The Adventures of Mythical Super Hero Anne

Part 21

“The Destruction of The
Loved Ones!”

             Toshomiko,
the girl-shaped human form disguise of Mythical Super Hero Anne, and her
dearest friend, Diannakiro, along with another factory worker named Josipi,
were riveting side panels of Tondo Motor Corporation’s newest sport-coupe
utility vehicles. All three were honored to be chosen, four weeks earlier by
the plant manager, as riveters for the prestigious New-Vehicle Assembly
Line.  Diannakiro and Toshomiko had been,
before the promotion, working at the Vehicle Corrections Checkpoint, their
responsibility being to assure that no mistakes had been made in assemblage of
the vehicles.  That had been a dull job,
as Tondo Motor Corporation was reputed to be the best, and most error free
vehicle manufacturing plant in all of Japan.

            It
was late in the day, and, so far, they had riveted side panels on four hundred
and fifty two cars.  Diannakiro had
worked hard, and well.  For the last part
of the late afternoon shift, she was the riveter, the most demanding position
of the riveting line, with Josipi heating the rivets, and Toshomiko tossing
them to Diannakiro, who put them on the cars. 
She was tired and sore, but felt pleased with their output.  No, it wasn’t a record number of side panels
for one day, but it was a respectable number. 
Besides, it was the Americans who were always worrying about breaking
records.  Diannakiro was just as happy
obtaining respect.

            Naturally,
Mythical Super Hero Anne could have easily riveted seven hundred side panels by
herself, a clear record number, if she so chose, but she knew that that kind of
productivity might make others suspicious. 
She knew she had to be careful around the people at the plant,
especially Josipi, for she knew that Josipi did not like Toshomiko.  In the past she had looked for ways to make
Toshomiko look bad in front of the plant manager.  Of course Josipi could never find anything to
make Toshomiko look bad, but Toshomiko still wanted to be careful, and went out
of her way to be nice to Josipi.

            “This
rivet is nice and hot,” she would say to Josipi, as she tossed the glowing
red rivet to Diannakiro.  Or, “You
are a hard worker, Josipi.”  Bad
feelings between coworkers in the workplace, besides being a detriment to
productivity, could possibly lead to a workplace investigation, and that,
Toshomiko/Mythical Super Hero Anne knew, could inadvertently cause her true
superhuman identity to be revealed to all of the world. It was of utmost
importance to Mythical Super Human Anne, and for the security of Tokyo that no
one know of her powers, that she not give away the secret that she was, in
reality, not Toshomiko, a mild mannered Japanese girl of fourteen, but Mythical
Super Hero Anne, the supposedly mythical Japanese super hero.

She had told Diannakiro the
secret when they had first met, or rather, Diannakiro had guessed right away.
At that moment, Mythical Super Hero Anne knew that someone who could discover
her secret as easily as Diannakiro had must be kept close at hand.  From then on Toshomiko treated Diannakiro as
a Kindred Spirit, to such an extent that Diannakiro even partook in some of
Mythical Super Hero Anne’s adventures. 
Mythical Super Hero Anne/Toshomiko knew that Diannakiro could be trusted
to keep the secret.

           

            Toshomiko
had just handed Diannakiro the final rivet for the four hundred and fifty third
vehicle when an announcement came over the loudspeaker in a pleasant female
voice:

            “Attention,
factory workers! As you all know, tomorrow is a holiday.  Therefore, morning workout exercises here at
the plant will begin one half hour later than usual, enabling you to be happy
as you spend extra quality time with your grandparents.  Despite the half hour delay in startup, it is
expected that your happiness will cause your holiday productivity levels to
remain at the high standards that you, the factory workers, set for yourselves.

            “For
those of you staying today after work to do more work, saki will be served in
the factory workers’ lounge.  That is
all.”

            Toshomiko
removed her clean, white cotton gloves, and unzipped her clean, white cotton
coveralls.  “Diannakiro,” she
said, stepping out of her work clothes, ” let us leave work, now.”

            Diannakiro
put down her riveter, and began to remove her outerwear.  “Toshomiko, my dearest friend, and my
colleague, Josipi, another day of high productivity must reluctantly come to an
end.”

            ‘This
is true,” agreed Toshomiko. 
“And we must rest tonight so that we will be in top physical and
mental form for tomorrow’s workday,” 
she reminded the other workers.

            Josipi
picked up another rivet and the riveter Diannakiro had just abandoned, and
said, “I shall work for another four hours, so that the plant manager will
be impressed with my day’s body of work.”

            Toshomiko
smiled a polite smile and said, “Very well.  I am not in a battle with you over
productivity levels, Josipi.”  Then
she turned to Diannakiro and said, “Come, Diannakiro, you will stay with
me and my adopted family while we eat our evening food meal.”

            “Thank
you for your generous offer,” said Diannakiro.  “I accept.  Thank you to you.  I look forward to again meeting your adopted
father, Matthewsan, and his sister Malirra.”

            “Thank
you for your acceptance, Diannakiro,” said Toshomiko. “Let us go, and
leave Josipi to work in peace.”

            Toshomiko
and Diannakiro mounted their bicycles and rode together out of the factory.

————————-

Next time – Chapter 2 – Meeting the family

I last wrote about our car woes in September.  Large amounts of dollars to fix it, then.  Actually, the large amounts of dollars were more about trying different things to fix it, and failing.  Finally, though, we took it to Walter Piccotts, and they reset the computer and that seemed to have solved it.  Another place had set the computer earlier, but that, for whatever reason, didn’t solve it.  The second re-set did, though.
Well, after that, it had been running fine.  Okay, so there was the power steering that was leaking a bit, and we had to keep topping up the coolant because the low coolant light kept coming on every 4-5 days.  But, the power steering had been leaking, like, forever, and it was a tolerable annoyance.  And, we put in some radiator LeakGoop product, and that seemed to slow the radiator leak quite substantially.  So, yeah, the car had been running great, apart from these annoyances.
Then, right in the midst of the hectic, nervous week before our Sketch22 Christmas show opened, our car again decides to break down.  The same thing as in September.  Car stalls when you’re driving along, so you have to re-ignite is as you coast.  Driving from Winsloe into Ch’town, it might stall 3 or 4 times.  Totally unacceptable, of course, and, seeing as we just got it “fixed” in September, totally infuriating.
So, we take it back to the place (out of three we tried in September) that seemed to cure it in September.  Their claim this time was that the power steering burst and leaked liquid on the alternator.  Damn me and my stupid procrastinating self!  Damn me straight to hell!  I knew that it would come back to bite me on the arse, and yet I did nothing!  I’m an idiot!!!
Gonna need a new alternator (even though we got the alternator replaced in September, even though replacing the alternator in September didn’t cure the problem then, even though the mechanic said it would).  And, yes, they’ll have to fix that power steering leak.  Okay, so we get a new alternator and power steering unit on Wednesday and that cost a couple of hundred.  Okay, so not so bad, the car’s fixed and the power steering leak has been cleared up.
Driving the car home from the shop on Wednesday evening, it stalls once, then twice.  And, now, anytime you put it in reverse and try to back it up, it stalls out.  Okay, contain the anger.  Then, just before we try to back the car in the driveway, the radiator burst.  Damn me and my stupid procrastinating ways!  Damn me straight to hell!  I knew that it would come back to bite me on the arse, and yet I did nothing!  I’m an idiot!!!
So, in the absolute depths of despair (well, for a Canadian who has a home and food on the table, and a loving wife and kid) I drive the ailing, stalling, liquid spewing car back to the shop and, because they’re closed, I park it and leave it, with the keys out in the open, hoping someone would steal it.  In the cold of a December night, I, depressed, walk from Parkdale to the Guild, to our dress rehearsal.
The next day, the shop calls and says the radiator leak is gonna cost a few hundred dollars to fix, and when re-investigating the “stalling when in reverse” problem, it looks like the problem is the ignition switch.  Gonna need a new one of those.  Won’t be able to get a part now, though, until Monday.  Sigh.  Okay, fix the fucker!
Anyway, Monday comes, and the car’s fixed and we pay the money to get it back.  On the way home, the thing stalls.  Okay.  Don’t panic.  Probably it stalled because the computer needs to re-set itself.  Wait until it stalls again before Totally Freaking Out.  So far, a month later, it hasn’t stalled again.  The car is working great.  No leaks at all, it starts great and runs smoothly.
There is some weird static-electrical thing happening though, that causes me not to be able to use my iPod/iTrip.  When I use it, it’s pretty much unlistenable due to static interference.  That doesn’t happen in any other car.  Odd and frustrating.
So, the car’s working great.  Until last Friday.  Two days ago.  Car won’t start.  It’ll turn over, but it won’t engage.  It just “werwerwerwerwerwer”s.  I thought, because it was kind of cold on Friday, that the gas line had frozen, but that doesn’t seem to be the problem.  It shouldn’t be spark plugs, because we just got a complete new set in September (one of the initial failed attempts to figure out why it was stalling).  It’s not the battery, as there seems to be lots of juice, and getting a boost from another car didn’t help.
So, there it sits, in our driveway.  An ugly and expensive piece of lawn-art.
Guess we’ll get it towed to our mechanic on Monday and see what the problem is this time.
Why do we still have this car, you ask.  Because we are currently in the financial position where we can’t afford to get another car, and we do need a car, so we’re unfortunately forced to keep fixing this one.