Charlie Bertsch (cbertsch) wrote,
Charlie Bertsch
cbertsch

Frustration

First one of the tires on Old Red that wasn't due for replacement sprang a leak. Then it went totally flat during Kim's trip. Thankfully we had concluded that it would be better for us to drop her off and pick her up in New Silver. Otherwise Old Red would have been stuck at the airport. As it was, though, Old Red was in our driveway. But because of the hurly-burly of the week following Kim's return, I didn't get the car towed to fix the front tire. And that meant that the two tires that were due for replacement -- thanks for the tips danthered and cpratt! -- gradually went flat due to their own slow leaks. Also, I made sure to run the car every few days to keep the battery going. Today, though, when I went outside to deal with the situation, the battery was completely dead. Not only that, the air tank I purchased in order to fill up the tires long enough to get the car over to the tire shop is proving difficult to comprehend.

So I decided that I'd give up for the day to go play basketball and work out my stress. I got out the foot pump and began to inflate my basketball, only to have the needle break off inside it. At least the Super Tool worked well enough to extract it. I'm heading down to the JCC now to play, hoping that my other basketball will be there, the one someone walked off with weeks ago and which then turned up at the Sports and Fitness Desk, only to disappear every time I asked for it. Needless to say, I'm feeling more than a little frustrated.

On the other hand, after numerous abortive trips to various stores in search of basketball shoes to replace the ones that inexplicably disappeared last month -- do people steal year-old shoes? -- in which I again and again found myself hating the poor construction and high prices of shoes whose labeled size bears no relation to any sizes I've encountered in my lifetime, I did finally manage to find a pair that fits me reasonably well without being hideous or $120. Sadly, I had to go to the Nike outlet at Foothills Mall in order to buy them, though, because every other option failed to pan out. At least the assholes up in Beaverton didn't get full price from me. Well, it's time to figure out whether three weeks without meaningful competition have rendered my always problematic outside shooting an unmitigated disaster. Maybe I'll just set some brutal blind-side picks to ease the pain.
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