Subject:
Dogs Don't Need No Sink
There
was once a time I could spend a three day weekend in my 66 Chevy
Caprice, but I was solo then. But I did live out of a Toyota Corolla
with 2 other guys taking highway 1 all the way to TJ for a couple
of weeks, getting 86'ed from Pasadena along the way and getting
some real weird looks from the beautiful people as I took a few
unshaven cuts with the Big Lumber just off 17 Mile Drive, taking
it out toward Japan and drawing it gently toward Hawaii...You
think The Rage could handle a few weeks doing dishes in a bathroom,
eh? While I didn't even have to take one shower on my back porch
like some serious remodelers, my cushy middle age existence had
me whining like a dog, kicked out onto that same back porch. But...note
that I said "had?" That's right, baby. Whine no more.
THE SINK IS IN! Plumbed and ready! We heated up pizza in our own
oven tonight!
While you might think this is crazy, I believe going without a
sink has brought out some more of my "dog under the porch"
instincts. I have eaten really bad, chased Manciata through the
woods and up mountains, ran through creeks (and loved it), ran
through a foot of snow (and loved it) and ran a 5:06 in January.
Strange how a remodeling project or working at a certain wafer
fab plant can make you feel like you want to chase after a pickup,
but it does.
The Rage
2/4/00
