Hay Holiday Letter of Truth 2023

Since there was no HHLOT in 2021 or 2022, I believe post-covid I have finally conjured requisite snark to make it happen. We got a lot of ground to cover here, so buckle up.

Darrell You Cannot Be Serious!

The knock me over with a feather news is that Rachel, first ex wife #1 and I got back together 18 months ago after 25 years apart. Yeah it surprised us too. We live together in my house in Snohomish now. Oh sure we fell into all our old idiosyncratic and toxic habits. But let's look at this realistically; we are so old we really just don't care anymore. The kids, how did the kids react you may ask? They don't even give a damn. Just about exactly zero reaction out of those three failures again.

I did however get to call Blade up and said, "hey, guess who I slept with last night?" He was undoubtedly cringing and half expecting some crazy answer like the mother of his friend or whatever. My answer: "YER MOM". That comedy moment was worth a month's worth of Rachel's BS right there. Blade didn't think it was funny. Not at all. I'm still laughing. I mean seriously, how often does a person get to use that line? Meanwhile we get to see our granddaughter Lilah more often, which is the most important thing, and another grand-munchkin is on the way end of February. His pre-natal nickname is Stitch. Get it, Lilah and Stitch?

We fostered Rachel's six year old grandniece for a few months last year to give her a start at getting into school because it hadn't happened yet. Complete shit-show, the details of which are not suitable for this venue, but that happened.

Prior to Rachel moving to my house she was living with Devon and Rafi in the Beacon Hill Ahud Home For Siblings. Three of their four respective siblings have done a stretch of time there. Still no kitchen or shower in the basement. And people call ME a slumlord?

Lawsuits SUCK

Had a tenant get drunk and fall down my external stairs three years ago at an apartment building and was injured. Extremely long story short he got an ambulance chaser to send a demand letter for $1.3 million. After much investigation by insurance company and lawyer, we went to mediation. Lawyer could almost guarantee that we would win in court, but that didn't really matter. It was gonna cost $200,000 to fight it, so they wrote him a check equal to just about ten percent of the demand to go away. Legalized extortion is what it is. He still lives there. Cannot evict without cause, post-covid. Lovely. 

I am sparing you most details of the neighbor I am presently suing who didn't get a survey, bulldozed my property, pushed the debris onto my side, built a garage and parked his trailer and truck ten feet over the line to this day. When I objected they threatened me. Oh yeah and then he pulled up the survey stakes and took my rope; you might now see why snark has been a bit in short supply lately.  I wish he would write me a check to make me go away....

Two Wheeled News

I got into motorcycles with my friend Paul three years ago, and unfortunately picked up his disease of collecting same. At one point I had seven here (he had ten). But credit Paul I actually made money on most, and broke even on the rest. The fever has broken, as I only have two here (plus one for Rachel) and one in Arizona. 

Unidentified Phallic Object

The longstanding lie of a "Pilot Shortage" has actually arrived and my friend Gary's son Garrick needed to get his private certificate. So I lent him my airplane to get his initial training. Garrick soon took to understanding the technology of the "ADS-B out" and on one of his first solo flights flew the course depicted below.  Clearly he is a rookie, but nice work Garrick! No, it is not a squirrel.

Tappet

My friend Tyler and I rode 2100 miles on motorcycles from Las Vegas to Seattle area this past spring through Death Valley and California gold country. We stumbled upon the campground below. You cannot make this kind of stuff up. Funny enough after getting back I find my KLR had a broken counter-balancer spring and one of the tappets was stuck, so it only had half of the valve operation, but ran just fine.

Rachel Explosion

She loves sewing, and is continually making clothing and related items. As you can imagine she has a plethora of fabric and various sewing machines. It completely fills the living room, and overflows into the den. Kelsey's friend Jamie comes in and sees this after Rachel moved in and deemed it a "Rachel Explosion".  That is such an apt description it became family lore.

Under New Management

After the worst of covid (2020-2021) and all the crazy law changes and "tenant protections" I completely burned out on being a hands-on landlord and hired a management company----and may sell out completely to some corporate owner. That was a nice change, but I am still bitter about the entire experience. Thanks Jay. I voted for you you POS. You have permanently raised rents an untold amount for the entire state. No, Fred Meyer does not give me six month's advance warning when they raise the price of milk. Only landlords do that. I'm so tired of socialist whack jobs on the left and criminal whack jobs on the right. Can we just find middle in politics again please?

I haven't gotten into doing home inspections again, but have slipped slightly....I still have my license and do jobs for family and friends occasionally, but have started doing limited consulting on others' pre-listing inspections. No traffic or crawlspaces involved.

And on that note, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

 

 2020 YOU SUCK

Hay Holiday Letter of Truth

Being negative and making fun of my mistakes used to be fun and funny for a Christmas letter, but 2020 was just an all around shitshow for all of us, so this feels a bit off, tasteless, and dated. But that's how I roll. Bear with me as I try to be positively negative about all the crazy and stupid of last year.

Remodel Shenanigans

It started out innocently enough, as all remodel projects do. Blow out a few ridiculous '70s walls here and there, remodel the kitchen, remodel the master bathroom, add a window in a dark room in the basement, and paint everything. Probably won't cost more than $100,000 and be done in four months. 

The old remodeling adage is "double the money and triple the time." That turned out to be perfectly accurate. Note to self; time should be quadrupled. Add a heapin' helpin' of scope creep (replace every window, remodel every bathroom), toss in some covid slowdown, add some asbestos remediation, and here we are. 

Julie and I have been living in her condo in Mill Creek during the remodel. The house is basically done, and it is nice, but we are moving back in the day after Christmas----without appliances, more than a year after gutting it. Oven, microwave, and cooktop are back-ordered, like most appliances of late, due to covid shutdowns of the manufacturing plants. We got sick of waiting, so we will move in and use the stove in the rental unit in the basement. And the house still needs a new roof and heat pump.....and is not within walking distance of great Pho, Fred Meyer, and the bus, like the condo is. Oh sigh.

Better To Be Pissed Off Than Pissed On

When we move JP and Rafi and granddaughter Lilah are going to move into the condo so they can clean up and sell their Lake City condo and get a house. While they realize there is no carpet on the stair landing, they may not fully understand the reason why. They also will discover that the flooring needs replacing in the powder bathroom and the baseboard trim in the entry is swollen badly, all because of this monster:

Oh yeah, she may look cute. But don't let that fool you. We gave her the benefit of the doubt initially. Oh poor baby you must be sick. Took her to the vet; nothing wrong. Oh poor baby you must be emotionally upset because everyone is home 24/7 during covid and here's some calming herbs. Oh poor baby Darrell is a scary man---he won't raise his voice at you in the house anymore for PISSING EVERYWHERE. That must be why you are pissing everywhere. Well, none of those things worked. What worked was taking her off her diet. It was a urine manipulation for more food. #vindictivepee She got fed more and the peeing immediately stopped. Now she weighs twice as much as that picture, can barely jump up on the counter to get water from the sink, and the house doesn't stink like a feline urinal. Anyway, JP and Rafi are gonna have to deal with it, because the cat is staying with the condo.  That's life in the city. Deal. We are trying to arrange a four way cat trade with Kelsey and Rachel. Not going well. I initially wanted $250,000 and a draft choice to be named later, but will settle for someone taking the cat. Please, JP, do not let Rafi see this Christmas letter, it can only be bad things.

Broken Lock

Covid has been a complete pain in the ass for the apartment business because of the eviction moratorium. First, evictions are a large percentage of the joy. Second, the quality of potential tenants has fallen off a cliff. In a weak moment I let a woman move into one of my buildings (the one with awesome tenants and no drama) with a charity paying her rent. She was personally below the typical standard, but had guaranteed rent, so no need to evict during a moratorium I thought. 

Oh yeah the rent gets paid, but she has issues, and her criminal son immediately moved with his girlfriend(!) into the tiny one bedroom apartment and they began running his drug dealing and stolen goods fencing business in my building. Yup, power tools, yelling, banging at midnight, overflowing dumpster, debris all over, fights with "customers" in the parking lot at 3am. The other tenants of course really appreciate all this. Warnings and threats from the people paying her rent don't help, and there is literally nothing that can be done with the eviction moratorium still in place. Tenants are scared of this punk, but the only exception to the eviction rule is if there is a credible threat of bodily harm that can be brought before a judge. We don't quite have that threat level, say the lawyers. 

This woman told me she did not want to use the laundry room after I coincidentally had broken lockboxes on machines after she and her friends were seen in there. So I changed the combination lock on the laundry room door to keep the riff raff out. I gave the new combination to all the OTHER tenants. Not twelve hours later someone took a crowbar to the door.  Because rather than make a phone call for the new combination, when you really need to do laundry, naturally you would just take a crowbar to it, amiright? Way easier.

After I heard this I went to assess damage to the door, lock, and machines, and stepped inside the room. The door closed behind me and locked (despite being broken). I was locked in my own closet sized laundry room. Thank you 2020. 

Port Angeles 

Kelsey and son-in-law Sean moved from Missoula to Port Angeles this fall. Guess who hauled two trailer loads of stuff from Montana? Yeah that's right, the same guy who is going to get one hell of a lot of help moving day after Christmas. 

Tucson

I bought a condo in Tucson this spring to rent and use. Furnished it, and have made a couple trips down there to clean up after tenants and hang out. I was gifted a one year warranty on the place. 

Being skeptical I have always thought these warranties were kind of a scam, but not going to turn down something free. The condo had two nasty old 1986 air conditioners and two water heaters. One water tank began leaking. It was replaced for the $75 deductible. One AC quit and was repaired for the deductible. The other AC then quit and was completely replaced for the $75 deductible. The dishwasher quit and was replaced for the $75 deductible. Only eight months in I can only hope the other water heater begins leaking soon, because I'm beginning to get sick of all this winning.

Going Rogue

Blade has been living in New York for about five years and finally got a New York driver's license. He is thrilled whenever he can drive---because subway. Anyway fresh license in hand he is driving his girlfriend's Nissan SUV somewhere in Pennsylvania and a car cuts right in front of them. I kinda wished it was his fault, because this story would be way more interesting. Yeah they were fine, but stick to the subway.

Reno

So there I was, flying to Seattle on an Alaska Airlines 737 at 40,000 feet last month. I have mostly driven to Tucson because covid. For this trip it was fly. Wearing an N95 mask and a face shield I start smelling this horrible burning plastic/electrical smell. Suddenly the pilots pull the power but don't put the nose down and we get into a tail wagging situation in coffin corner (look it up if you care, not getting into all that), like the yaw damper is off and I'm thinking what the hell are they hand flying for? Then the spoilers come out and we begin a high dive. Truly an emergency. We level out at 14,000. I'm following along on my iPad in ForeFlight so I can see exactly what we were doing, speed, location and altitude.

The smoke is really nasty, people are coughing, pulling their masks off, and looking scared. No announcement.Flight attendant moves a woman up next to me who rips off her mask and can't stop shaking, thinking we were gonna die. I can literally see Reno airport 15 miles distant, clear skies. OK let's land this bad boy, or depressurize and lose the smoke. NOPE. They get on and announce we are going to Sacramento. SACRAFREAKINGMENTO!! That's 25 minutes away. The pilots had on smoke goggles and oxygen and were good. We had just deal in the back. We land in Sacramento and no one from Alaska Airlines or SFD asks if we are OK. Basically here you are in the terminal, one announcement and there you go.  Covid masks may work for virus, but not for inflight fire. The news reports said there were "no injuries"....not sure how they know because no one asked us. My lungs hurt for a week. 

Alaska sent us all a discount code for $200 on a future flight. I thanked them for that and asked them in email why we didn't just land in Reno, I would have preferred landing in Reno and breathing 25 minutes less smoke to their $200 coupon. The response? Well (paraphrasing) "they made the decision to land in Sacramento because of a longer runway".  I looked it up. We landed on an 8600 foot runway in Sacramento. Reno is 11,000. This all reminds me of the 2000 Alaska accident when they used to have annoying prayer cards tucked into every meal, but neglected to grease the jackscrew and killed everyone on board over California. "More grease, less prayer card" was the phrase I gave them twenty years ago.  Maybe their 2020 theme could be, "Land the fucking airplane NOW, idiot." 

https://sacramento.cbslocal.com/2020/11/23/plane-makes-emergency-landing-at-sacramento-international-airport/

5-2 Wedding

So my sister got married this spring. Normally that's not worthy of the Christmas letter, except it was a Zoom wedding. Right as they were going for the kiss their internet connection went down. Classic. The best part is her name is Five. Yeah, it's her nickname, and she doesn't particularly like it, but being her second wedding it is very easy for me to remember her anniversary: May 2.  5-2.  Could not have asked for a better date for my sister for her second wedding. Good job guys.

2019 Hay Holiday Letter of Truth
This is where you get truth and nothing but truth, without the holiday sugar coating

So last Christmas letter I was in Arizona working for Mesa Airlines. That lasted two days short of four months. I got paid to live in Arizona in the winter, got a free hotel room, a cool leather jacket, half my meals, made some friends, had a good time, flew some jets......so what's the problem you ask? The problem was it was J-O-B. Turns out it's not all fun and games and they actually expected me to be there when they wanted me to be there and a schedule was super hard to find, and when found, was always subject to change. This dude could not abide. So I bailed out a high point, and walked away with no regrets.

So back to being a playboy, screwing around, flying gliders, traveling, taking care of the apartments, and once in a great while doing an inspection if it is a perfect house with no crawlspace.

CITRUS
The big news of the year was my first grandchild was born November 15! Her name is Lilah, nickname Lemon. Pretty damned cute! Yeah the "h" ish silenth.  When Lemon's mother was barely showing, she read in a book that the baby was the size of a Lemon. And it stuck. Naturally I got her a "Baby Up In This Bitch" window sticker ("h" not silent in BITCH), and my son in law Rafi, says, oh, thanks for something to put in the trash. Wow Rafi, really? While you're in the trash, see if you find your sense of humor there with it. Damn, being a new dad is stressful as isn't it? He doesn't even have anyone gnawing his nipples.

TAKE ME HOME COUNTRY ROADS 
Julie and I have been making an effort to visit out of the way places that aren't your typical tourist areas. Detroit, Toledo and Cleveland on a rust belt tour. West Virginia on a coal tour. Southern West Virginia was truly life changing and probably why I am not feeling super snarky right now. These poor people absolutely broke my heart. Multi-generational poverty, under-education, isolation, lack of infrastructure (or even cell service), rampant black lung, horrible widespread drug problems, decimated towns. I saw a closed Wal-Mart. We went to a town, a county seat, where there was nowhere to get a cup of coffee or a piece of fresh produce. The drug stores, churches, dollar stores, are doing great. Everyone and everything else is in bad shape. Detroit is decimated, but the people have hope and a glimmer in their eye and things are improving. Not so West Virginia. They literally have nothing.

SAWZALL BLADE (no, Londo, this is not about you)
A month and a half ago I began the long delayed remodel of my house. No more 1979 architectural nightmares going on (or asbestos either). I have completely gutted all the walls out of the common living space, so the view and light now gets all the way back to the living room. The big problem is that the family room, kitchen, dining room, nook, computer desk, entry, hall and living area make up a HUGE area for the new kitchen and great rooms on either side. Too big really. Maybe 1000 square feet? Clean sheet design is going to include a monstrous 4 x 12 kitchen island to pull it all together and hopefully it will all scale well. The false ceiling I took out had about three feet of insulation in it. I was up in there shoveling insulation for hours and hours and still took an insulation shower when it all came down.
The master bedroom/bathroom is next to get gutted.
Since my house is TRASHED, Julie has let me stay at her condo in Mill Creek. The problem with taking a sawzall to everything is that it takes money and time and effort and patience to put it back together. I can't just treat it like a job and leave because I'm bored. Or dirty. But I can stay indefinitely at Julie's as long as I do the dishes.....

Hay Holiday Letter of Truth 2018

Hay Holiday Letter of Truth 2018

This is the Christmas letter where it’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, with no Christmas-time sugar coating.

Getting Their Marriage On:

So I had two daughters get married in 2018. Their weddings could not have been more different. Devon had been planning her marriage, since, umm, I think right after she was born. She (and Rafi) had every nuance, every contingency taken care of, and even ordered good weather. Her invitations cost more than Kelsey’s entire wedding, and certainly took more planning. Kelsey married Sean because he works at Costco. Well, more accurately because he has health insurance at Costco. They have been together for at least five years that I know of and get along great. Getting married for health insurance, hey, who am I to judge?  

They live in the Missoula area and we all (immediate family) trudged over there with about five days’ notice. It was February in Montana and as expected there were several inches of snow on the ground. We showed up at the courthouse at noon. We arrived and determined that they required an appointment to get a marriage license. The clerk took pity and made it happen since about 20 of us were standing in their courthouse hallway with flowers on lapels. The day before several of the women went and got her a dress, so we were ready to go. The rings we got off a milk bottle if I remember correctly. I think Sean may have actually worn some clean pants. I know I did. We realized as we were standing there in the hallway that we didn’t have a venue for the ceremony, or even an officiant. Rafi whipped out his phone and determined that in Montana you can become a wedding officiant by filling out a form online. So he did. Then he found wedding vows online and pasted them into his phone. Montana’s newest wedding officiant then was all set. One of the kids on Sean’s side found some wedding music on her phone and we were so good to go. 

As we all walked out of the courthouse with a fresh license Kelsey wondered where we could go to do this. Turns out Ravalli County Courthouse has a little pagoda on the side of the building. That will work. Everyone got inside, the iPhone music was cued up and I walked her through the snow, over a curb, and up the steps to the pagoda (with her dressy shoes---not sensible attire in Montana in February!!). We then all went to Sean’s favorite burger place down the street. And DONE. It was super sweet and just a ton of fun. 

Check out my son in law Rafi ,the officiant reading vows off his phone. Too funny! That would be Sean, kissing Kelsey

Rafi and Devon Wedding

Labor Day Weekend weather beautiful, views of mountains, and a beach on Hood Canal. All went swimmingly. When things go perfectly it is really boring. The best part was the Indian tradition known as Baraat. In this tradition Rafi and his family had to pay my family to get down the aisle. Blade my son started the bidding at $50,000. Seriously how cool is that to be able to sell your sister? I never got to do anything that fun; I only got to physically and mentally abuse my sister. They didn’t have that kind of cash (WTF!), so we were going to shut down the wedding and send everyone home. Blade is a very good negotiator, because after all was said and done the entire group was shaken down for $117.32. The money was all given out to the little cousins and grandkids the next day. They were over the moon seeing that much cash.

After the ceremony and party we had to be out of the park by 10pm. There was no time to do the dirty dishes for 200 or whatever people and the rented dishes were expected to be brought back dirty (renting dishes and bringing them back dirty---God Bless America). The only place large enough to put that many dishes was in my trailer overnight. The next morning I opened it up and it smelled like a curry bomb had gone off. And people think my gas is bad!

The Countdown Begins

So I read in the “The Atlantic” last week that millennials the world over are suffering from a Sex Recession. Umm, hello? Can you damned millennials do ANYTHING right? Good lord people. You need to be able to talk on the phone and you need to be able to do the dirty deed. I’m not getting FREAKIN’ GRANDKIDS til you get busy! So apparently the girls are having a pregnancy race. I don’t think they really are, they just are saying that to appease me. Buncha Bullshit. Stay tuned as news comes from Celibacy Corner.

Not Good Enough (Personal Failings)

Speaking of celibacy, I’m sure you all are wondering; only ONE girlfriend broke up with me this year. Three separate times, but it was only one woman. Got that out of the way. Still kinda fresh, I’ll bash her next year.

I had four transmissions in one truck within a period of two months, three of those failures the fault of the shop, and like a fool I went out and bought a brand new truck after number four. This was all mixed up in the previously mentioned breakup, and did I mention new trucks are SIXTY THOUSAND DOLLARS?  So of course after the first payment was made that old truck has been flawless and I prefer it over the new one. An once again I find myself with three vehicles like a damned idiot.

I bought another apartment building. This one in Aberdeen. An 11 unit out of bankruptcy. Absolutely stole it. It’s such a steaming pile of shit with such amazing cash flow. It’s super ugly, and it is hard to look at. I wear blinders because it is all about the cash flow. We are thinking maybe just collecting rent until it literally falls down and then burn it for insurance (that was a JOKE State Farm). The net rents after management will pay for the entire building within five and half years. The manager is great (I love you JoLynn) I was initially thinking foundation repair and siding replacement for long term, but this is Aberdeen....

Homeless dude in the alley #aberdeen

After 11,000 home inspections I had had enough. I retired and took my trailer to Arizona. Four days in I had hiked, flew gliders and gotten some sun. But oh my god it was so  G_O_D_D_A_M_N_E_D boring. I still had ASHI boards that I belonged to and went back working like one day a week and of course the apartments to keep me busy. But no, I had to blow up the Peacefulness, Proximity and Prosperity and decided to go to work flying airplanes again, as a Pauper. Jets this time. I start next week in Phoenix. Gonna live in my trailer for now. Will fly for food. Everywhere I go and everything I do, I am the boss. And suddenly I won’t be. It will be an adjustment. Then there’s the 25 years of new technology and FAA rule changes I need to catch up on. Hopefully the old dog can learn new tricks.

Infections

So my mom was going to have a knee replacement done this fall. The surgeon says you need to have that infection in your mouth looked at before I operate. Mom says I don’t have an infection in my mouth. She goes to the dentist and he says you have an infection in your mouth you need to go see a periodontist. Periodontist does a biopsy and does a CAT scan and a credit card scan. Hmm, I don’t see it. That will be $1000 and you need to go see an endontist.  Endontist opens her gums up and says, oh wow, there’s absolutely no infection, that will be $2000 and a recovery time of several weeks. Be careful with that open wound in your mouth, you don’t want to get an infection!! He didn’t really say that. I did. Knee surgery put off while she recuperates from gum surgery. Last time mom spoke through swollen infected bloody gums she expressed interest in marrying Sean’s Costco health insurance.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!!

Hay Holiday Letter of Truth 2016

This is where you hear the truth and nothing but the truth about my messed up year and my embarrassing children, friends, and family. This year there are no ex-wife stories and keeping it fairly clean with only casual references to pegging, cockroaches, bed bugs, syphilis, farts, and fleas.

He Can Make It Anywhere

The year started out with my son Blade, the youngest and mouthiest, moving to New York City to go to school. He loved it at first, but then realized he liked working better than school. I guess that’s because it pays better. He’s now going to school part time and working full time as para-legal for a patent troll. He won’t admit his boss is the absolute lowest form of life on earth. Common criminals steal, but patent trolls do that AND set back progress for all humans. I am so proud of him. Maybe he can move into spamming and malicious software next? He shares an apartment in Manhattan close to Chris Christie’s George Washington Bridge. He pays the exact same rent for his tiny little bedroom as my middle daughter pays for her place in Montana. Damnit I can’t remember her name because of Forgotten Middle Child Syndrome. Of course “she” has a 3000 foot house in Hamilton, Montana with unbelievable character, who-knows-how-many bedrooms, a barn, a big circular driveway, two acre pasture, solar power, big wide front and rear porches and a knockout view of the mountains. And it’s even walkable to town. I visited Blade on his move to New York City and in the spirit of our new president-elect I also did a little grabbing below the belt, before grabbing was cool.

Pew In The Pew

Devon is my eldest. I easily remember her name, although I never call her that. Her boyfriend’s mother is Islamic. So when they visited her in California this year she went to mosque and wore a hijab. I once wore a turban in a Sikh temple and had some amazing food there. Sikhs are all about the food. In fact I may have hidden some food in that turban. After eating all that awesome grub you can fart in a Sikh temple and no one cares who dealt it. Not so in a mosque. You must be “clean” to pray. After you fart you must cleanse yourself. Not sure what the definition of cleansing is exactly, but knowing my flatulent daughter, she would be in a constant state of cleanse and would never be able to pray. Or pray they don’t detect you. And who enforces this anyway? What if it’s just an SBD? These are all questions to which I have no answers. Maybe a Muslim friend can help me here?  In any event, my atheist daughter obviously loves her boyfriend.

Dog Days

So middle daughter what’s-her-face trains dogs for a living. Actually they developed the protocol for training dogs to help manage wildlife (read bears) in urban areas, and now for National Parks to keep wildlife and people separated. I think she should be a professional photographer after sending this picture of her pit bull Lenny (Staffordshire something-or-other actually). Hey Blade, notice the beautiful mountain view and the solar panels. Just like The Bronx huh?

Fleagate

My dad is not even a bad amateur entomologist. What! Is your damn google broken? That is someone who studies insects. Now back to the story. Mom and dad had bad bites and rashes this summer and were convinced their house was infested with bed bugs. Because I am at least a poor amateur entomologist, and can spell it, I know that bed bugs have a natural predator, that being of course the lowly cockroach (bringing it right back to New York City and keeping it relevant for you Blade). Cockroaches naturally were my first treatment suggestion. That went over like a lead cloud. There is no “treatment” for bed bugs, except heating up the entire house to 130 degrees Fahrenheit and leaving it that way for half an hour. That kills them. The typical furnace isn’t going to do that, even aided by electric space heaters, so you must use portable propane heaters. Of course filling the house up with carbon monoxide and intense heat kills cockroaches, bedbugs, humans, and all other living creatures. Well, maybe not the cockroaches come to think of it. We made arrangements to move everything out of the closets, and got the heaters reserved at a rental shop. In thinking through the logistics it became clear that post-treatment it would require a person running into the danger zone to turn off heaters strategically placed throughout. I wasn’t going to do it and my first choice for this job, my sister, wasn’t anywhere to be found of course. In addition to the immediate danger of carbon monoxide and heat in a fully closed house there was the small issue of completely burning down the house. Dad has experience with this burning-down-the-house thing (see “Y2K Generator” HHLOT circa 1999). We decided that we should probably check to see if it was indeed bed bugs. It wasn’t. No evidence whatsoever. That being said, in addition to a poor amateur entomologist, I also am a poor amateur doctor, and went to WEB MD and compared their skin rashes to what was online. They looked exactly like Syphilis rashes. Burning down the house would be a helluva way to cover up getting an STI, and an interesting explanation to the insurance company. So instead they went to a real doctor who immediately proclaimed, ”these are flea rashes”. They have no pets. Our family friend Jami works in a vet’s office and visits every week. That would be the flea source.

Twisted Sister

My sister finalized her divorce recently and went to the judge to change her name. Problem is she changed her last name AND her middle name. She should have left all that alone and just changed her first name, which no one calls her anyway. Well, OK, just me, or sometimes people when they are mad at her, but that’s not the point. She changed her MIDDLE NAME! Who does that anyway? Her middle name at birth was in honor of my now 101 year old grandmother.  She changed it to the same name mom has as her middle name. WTF! I can get over all the rest of this, but here’s the real problem: Security questions on the Internet. Typical security questions on every website known to man are things that are permanent and not subject to the vagaries of memory like your middle child’s name. No, they want permanent easily memorable things, like high school attended, favorite pet’s name, your anniversary, etc. I have big problems with these security questions. My cat died, I never even started high school, and have been divorced twice. It’s an issue with security questions. So my go-to has always been “eldest sibling’s middle name” because I can’t kill it, forget it, divorce it, or lose it. So now like a boss, she changes it.  I’m simply doomed.

Beer Alarm Fire

No forceful evictions yet this year, but I did get a call from a tenant at 2:00 am who said the fire alarm was going off and beer was streaming down the stairs. I assumed the beer probably put the fire out and went back to sleep. I didn’t pay twenty thousand dollars for a new alarm system and fire doors to lose sleep. Of course the fire department called ten minutes later and told me someone got in a fight in the hallway and pulled the alarm, naturally waking everyone in the building and the entire neighborhood when the fire trucks came hammering in. Isn’t this what everyone does when you are drinking beer and happen to get in a fight in the hallway at 2:00 am---pull the fire alarm?

No Happy Ending

I’m sure you all have noticed junk texts are on the rise (growing career field for you Blade). But even better I got a really wrong number text not long ago. I thought it was my friend Rob messing with me under a new phone number, especially when I saw the 253 area code. So I started playing along. He started with this very romantic gesture:

“are you available for bbj and do you swallow”

Smelling blood in the water, and curious what bbj is, I replied

“Oh yeah I totally swallow”

He was definitely interested. Time to close the deal

“damn so what area an how much for a double pop”

Feeling like this wasn’t about a strong sugary drink, I responded thusly

“It’s free if I can peg you dry between pops”

Things just deteriorated from there because he had no idea what pegging is, his grammar was atrocious, and he was quite simply losing me. So I called Rob’s wife Cathy to laugh with her about what Rob was doing. She responded he was dead asleep on the couch and not texting anyone. She was cracking up and wanted to know what the phone number was. Naturally I gave it to her. So Cathy called and started messing with the guy, who of course denied it all. My paramour continued

“where’s your incall an what is peg you dry sexy”

“let me no ID like to hookup”

“Why don’t you google pegging then let me know.”

Our flirtation continued, cut for brevity, until the inevitable breakup:

“Dude, you have the wrong number. I’m just messing with you”.

“well just to let you know your # is on backpage as a fine ass black chic”

“I’m sorry I thought you were a buddy of mine messing with me.”

“I don’t have an ad. I’m a 52 year old white guy.”

“Do you have a link to the ad?”

“no its in backpage under escorts”

So this fine ass black chic(k) wishes you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kwanza, Ramadan, and even a Happy Chinese New Year, whenever that occurs!

2014 Hay Holiday Letter of Truth

2014 Hay Holiday Letter of Truth

This is the holiday letter where it’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about the last year.

Drug Dealin’

I had a very large flatbed trailer that I had converted from a travel trailer. The thing was 26 feet long and 8-1/2 feet wide. I never used it. I got really tired of looking at it, too. Seriously, wouldn't you too? It never had a title or license, but that was fine, let ‘em catch me was my philosophy. That made selling it a bit problematic, however. The Craigslist ads were getting no response at $500.

One day a guy texts me out of nowhere and tells me he wants to trade me weed for my trailer, telling me he is a legal grower. I replied “uh, no, thanks, I’d rather have the money, and I sure don’t want to have more than an ounce hanging around,” (the legal limit). So the trailer still doesn't sell.

A week later he texts back and offers me two ounces plus $300. I call my tenant Gayla in the basement and see if she wants it, or can sell it. She says sure, she can sell it, can get the cash, and meet the guy. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with this---just show me the money and get the trailer the hell out of the yard. At the appointed time, the guy shows up, but mistakenly only brings $200 cash. To make up for it, he gives Gayla four ounces. Gayla immediately sells part of it, making a killing, apparently, and keeps a lot of the cash to herself for the trouble. I arrive home and there’s a wad of cash and a HUGE Ziploc of weed on my counter. So now it looks like I’m a drug dealer. 

Naturally the next step is to employ my kids.

Before you get your panties all in a twist, the kids are all adults! But the point of it is that I am now the head of a family run drug cartel and feeling like a total pimp. Obviously I need a pit bull.

The kids take my stash and sell it to several friends, being somewhat nonchalant about actually collecting payment. Kelsey has a pit bull named Shark—come on, stay with the story people, this is the letter of truth, I don’t make this shit up—and because I am now a drug kingpin, I send threatening texts to the customers threatening to fuck them up and send the pit bull after them.

Everyone laughed. Maybe because they know Shark is a cute puppy and maybe cause they don't believe I'm head of a cartel. In any event not even one person thought I was a badass. And the dog mostly just licks people’s hands. So my drug dealing days are over now. The crux of the story is that I sold my ILLEGAL trailer for LEGAL drugs, and got to talk all gangster and make threats and shit.

Totally worth it.
Then I started thinking about this trailer and they grower guy who bought it.....the amount of product you could haul on a 26 x 8.5 foot dual axle trailer is truly staggering. A month or so after the trailer incident I did an inspection for a guy buying a huge property in Arlington with at least two massive pole building shops, truly one of the largest I had ever seen, and 400 amps of power. He wasn't a welder, didn't drive an electric car, and didn't own a kiln. Welcome to the new economy.

Kelsey's pit bull "Shark" attacking a drug customer. Or maybe getting her tummy rubbed.

Not Texting and Driving
I text while driving. All the time. Prolifically. Without fail. Every single time. For years and years and years. The nanny state says texting and driving is dangerous. True. For people that CAN'T DRIVE! I haven’t been in a serious accident in 35 years. Then one afternoon in March while NOT texting, NOT talking on the phone, and NOT eating a sandwich, I caused a four car pileup on I-90 in Bellevue. I was number three of four cars in a chain reaction. Trashed my beloved truck. Texting saves lives. Pass it on.

The North Koreans Were Right

Seth Rogen you are such a douche. I want my six bucks and two hours back. I thought I was doing the patriotic thing and renting "The Interview" on YouTube. Just another sucker. I'm gonna send Shark after him if he puts out another movie that bad. Seth, weren't you embarrassed?

Mexico With The Exico
So Lisa and I fought for four years until the divorce was final. There was nothing left for her to take anyway, so what's to fight about? In any event, she has a time share in Mexico and couldn't get anyone to go with her. I begged my boss, who is kind of an ass about these things, but he finally agreed to let me go. Lisa made it extra clear that this was going to be two separate rooms and no funny business was going to go on. And I believed her. Because I was previously married to her.

Many other people who were never married to her assumed that despite her words, there were ulterior motives. So naive! I started taking $20 bets. Gayla (mentioned above) wanted in on the action and god knows bitch has the cash. Dale my helper on apartment maintenance and management wanted a piece of that $20 action also. I was either going to get very rich on this trip or get the most expensive piece ever. I won the bets of course. Full disclosure: I did hug her after she barfed on the boat to Cozumel.

Apartments
Boring. No forceful evictions, no hookers, just the typical Everett White Trash drama. Thanks to 20% rent increases that FINALLY arrived this year I'm actually making beau coup cash. Way more than my drug dealing. Everett Fire Department is doing their best lately to fix that since they are forcing me on the big building to upgrade the alarm system, adding firewalls, self closing doors, etc. Who knew the FD could force a property owner to upgrade an existing building? I didn't. Its almost enough to make me want to vote Republican,.....nah!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!

Hay Holiday Letter of Truth (2013)

This is the holiday letter where it’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth of the past year.

Panera Not Just Bread

So Blade left last year for Germany for a year to study, uh, German beer, I guess. I went to visit him in Croatia while he was there with his host family on vacation.  We referred to the host family as the replacement family.  Christ on a cracker can those people put down the beer. “Those people” being Germans in general, and that family specifically.  He’s now back home, going to school at Cascadia Community College, and working at Panera Bread. Panera Bread needs to drop the “Bread” from their name. Seriously. It’s not an Oroweat store! The serve soup, make smoothies and can sell you a spinach salad.

That’s about it for him. He’s been the most boring kid by far this last year. Well, other than his girlfriend dumping him two or three times. Yawn.  

DCS

Devon graduated from UW this year. Ironically she is working for Department of Child Support in Olympia. Recall a few years back the head of DCS personally told me to NOT pay child support for her due to a procedural/court error. 

Wait, first ex is the gift that keeps on giving, it just keeps getting better:  

I paid a portion of the kids’ education in 2012 and 2013 and was planning to do more in 2014. So when the accountant went to do my 2012 taxes, I had to confirm for him that the X had taken the correct education tax credit (we had been trading exemptions back and forth for fifteen years per the divorce paperwork). Seems she took it all.  I called and said what’s up; you need to file an amended return. Not gonna do it she said. OK, fine, I said, what if you take all of 2012, I’ll take 2013, and you take 2014? Not gonna do it (she files in April, I file in October), she retorted. So I had to write an unexpected $3000 check to the IRS, plus penalties etc. So just a few weeks ago, Blade asks me for money for winter quarter coming up. I tell him fine, I have it, but first maybe he can convince his mother that she should negotiate with me about the tax credit. He gets back a day later and says nope, she’s not gonna do it, but she will pay for school.

OK then, easy come, easy go…I definitely know when to just shut the hell up.

Painter’s Tape

My middle daughter, the one we mostly forget about, Kelsey, turned 21 this year. Her sister and friends were headed to Missoula to throw her a party, starting with bar runs at midnight. Ironically, one of her nicknames is “Puke”----this is the Letter of Truth, I don’t have to make this up!

Naturally this party called for a stripper. Since I wasn’t invited to my own daughter’s surprise party(!!) I lined up a stripper to go to the house about 10pm. He was to be dressed as a cop, tell everyone there was a report of underage drinking, administer a Breathalyzer, then strip. But the damn fool quit on me at the last moment! I worked the phones like crazy and could not find a replacement stripper. I guess there just aren’t many male strippers in Missoula, Montana….

So I jumped on a plane and headed there that night, arriving at 7pm. I got a hotel room, loaded the Bee Gees “Stayin’ Alive” on my phone, and went to The Home Depot to buy blue painter’s tape. While this sounds like a murder plan, and I was planning to kill, technically I don’t think anything illegal took place.

Upon arrival at the house, there were probably 15 friends, plus her sister, her boyfriend, and her evil mother. Kelsey gave me a big hug. She had a drink scoreboard tied around her neck. She wanted to talk, and blah blah blah.

But I didn’t want to talk. I went over to the stereo, plugged in my phone, then got right in her face about an important life lesson she needed to learn. She was wondering why I was so intent, because this was a party, not an inquisition. While trying to grab the attention of the room I loudly proclaimed, “you know Dess (another nickname), sometimes life hands you lemons, and you need to know how to make lemonade”. She looked at me quizzically. “And when you really want something done, sometimes you just have to do it YOURSELF”. At that exact moment I snapped on “Stayin Alive” and reached for my belt. The girls started shrieking, her mother left the room in disgust, and Kelsey cracked up and started dancing and singing with me. “Dad, this is sooo wrong and I’m losing sooo many friends right now!”

aah, aah, aah, aah, stayin alive, stayin alive!!

Despite practicing my routine in the hotel, I forgot to grab and shake my booty, did a fairly reasonable two-foot-distant bump and grind, and of course did the scissors with my shirt around her torso. Next was the zipper tease and that’s when oldest daughter Devon starting half screaming, half laughing “that’s enough, that’s enough”!! Good thing too, cause that’s all I had.  I yelled, “THAT’S how you party naked”, as I got dressed, gave her a big hug, handed her a Breathalyzer as a present, walked out the back door and flew home. Yes, a hit and run birthday strip.

The blue tape was to cover my junk, but during practice I discovered a lot of tape is needed, and it hurt, made me feel like the Michelin Man, and most importantly inhibited my bustin’ dance moves.

Buh bye

After three years of separation Lisa and I finally pulled the trigger on the divorce in 2013.  I got some things, she got some things, but most importantly she got my favorite green step-ladder which she refuses to return!

Flying Turd

My three year ordeal with the FAA over getting my airplane rebuild project certified ended when I sold it for parts. I lost north of $20,000 on that disaster. So in May I found a flying amphibious boat down in Florida I wanted. It was disassembled, so I had it shipped up here. After putting it back together and test flying we found all kinds of little peculiarities, making it the first airplane I have truly been intimidated by. It didn’t help that two of the first five landings were partial power emergencies. I wanted something different from the sexy, fast, responsive, fun RV-6, and I sure got it. Reading pilot reviews from this Brazilian import I see I am not the only person underwhelmed by its characteristics.  I am consoled by Charles Lindbergh because The Spirit of St Louis was apparently a flying turkey. It handled poorly, was fundamentally unstable, and the forward visibility was via a periscope. And he learned to love it. Alright, he tolerated it for 33 hours anyway. I guess I will learn to love it. Hopefully.

No means NO

My “friend” Jessie has chickens. Many chickens. City of Seattle doesn’t allow urban chicken farmers to have roosters. So the roosters must be kept, uh, quietly. Her rooster is named Roo, and he is a fine rooster and a very loud rooster. He has a much quieter son named, fittingly, Mini-Roo. She has pretty well turned the garage into a chicken coop, and been slowly making it soundproof so poor Roo doesn’t have to sleep in the car. Again, I gently remind you this is the letter of TRUTH. That’s not a misprint; the car.

When Roo is taken out of the car he is ready for the morning rape. Standing tall, feathers fully back, he chases each of the ladies around, until, uh, completion. Mini-Roo is not so interested in rape. He believes each hen is worthy of respect as an individual, and believes that no means no. Or he is gay. I personally believe the latter because he makes less noise and provides emotional support instead of torment. Plus he doesn’t rape his sisters, mother, and kids like Roo does.

So despite best efforts to quiet poor Roo, the neighbors complained, the code enforcement officer came, and gave her 48 hours to either make rooster soup or move them out of the city. That’s right, both roosters were then moved to my house. Well, as you know, having two roosters and no hens in one coop is not great, so we had to get a rescue chicken. Rescue chicken was full of fleas, but she was fat and full of personality and lays eggs like crazy. So my one hen was laying eggs all over the place and her EIGHT hens were not doing squat because they didn’t have a rooster. So Mini-Roo was moved back to Seattle in direct violation of municipal code, and the hens started laying because he really communicates and does not objectify the ladies.

Speaking of Animals

Almost-20 year old cat Raffi died in June. But not before quietly shredding six or eight blankets and comforters, pissing all over much of the carpet and pooping on the remaining, in her last days. So I removed the carpet where it was trashed, have crappy 35 year old carpet where it wasn’t, half of a room with new laminate, and particleboard and plywood floors elsewhere. At least the dirty paint matches up well. All this doesn’t matter because I can’t see the floors in a few rooms due to airplane parts and receipts and files and computers. Receipts and files you say? Since I took over the apartments in the divorce, turns out the computer files couldn’t be transferred. Quicken and I have had endless discussions about their older and newer versions of property manager software being completely incompatible. So meanwhile I can’t print, can’t get to the data, and basically look at the bank statements to see who has paid rent. Lisa essentially handed twenty boxes of files over and said see ya! I stand proud, however, in my deep belief that using this obsolete software and allowing it to bottleneck my business is the righteous thing to do. Paying a bookkeeper $250 to get it over with is insanity to me. Then what would I complain about? Ugh, however, starting in 2014 I will be trying to convert to a Mac and fresh software, which will even further complicate things I am sure. Nah, I’ll probably let it ride for another year.

Diesel, I am so sorry

I have a new love. You schlebs all proud with your no-torque, inferior mileage, low longevity, environmentally noxious gas-powered cars simply wouldn’t understand, but I have only had diesel vehicles for many years. They can burn diesel, or bio-diesel, or cooking oil, or motor oil, or whatever you have. And hybrids?  Phh. Shameful compromiser of the worst kind, the entire lot of you. At least have the nerve to pick a method and go with it. And a hybrid SUV is like a compromise upon a compromise. A little bit of everything and good at nothing. Well, Jessie got a Nissan Leaf this year.  And it was love at first drive. Talk about torque. 100% at zero RPM. Just plug it in. It’s almost free to drive. Completely quiet. 100 miles of range. Oh, and did I mention no maintenance? Not LOW maintenance, NO maintenance. How much maintenance do you do to your cordless power drill?  I let my Diesel Power magazine subscription lapse. That’s all you need to know right there. I now see the world in a completely different way.