Rebuilding

The bay bridge has reopened. Some locals refuse to drive across it because they don’t want to be the next winner of the bay bridge lottery and get smacked with tons of falling steal sponsored by the cracked eye beam.

On the way back from the neurologist’s office on Monday, Hubby and I struck up a conversation with a random bus person. We were all noting the bridge was open – again, but for how long? The bus person thought the bridge wasn’t going to make it. It’s amazing how many of the locals subscribe to this theory. He said, “it’s not like the Golden Gate, a suspension bridge. The bay bridge is a stiff erector set with no give or take. A little wind, a little vibration, some earthquake and there’s a whole lot of trouble.”

AZ sent me the following pictures, of the Hoover damn. It’s being rebuilt also. Like the bridge, it’s a monumental project. She had a picture from 1972 and one from current day. We passed through there about a year ago, and they were busy working on it.I love these pictures. I wish I had gotten some of pre and post bay bridge piece failure. I tried. I contacted one of my friends who lives in Richmond across from the pier. She found a guy named Cap’n Tyler, docked at the Richmond pier. His business card said he would take his boat anywhere for a reasonable fee. My friend asked him about motoring up to the broken bridge for some pictures. He was game, except for one problem – a hole in his hull. A buddy of his had rammed his boat while he was salmon fishing in Alaska. He was waiting on a check, all the while insisting his boat was still sea worthy. I had a vision of us sinking immediately below the bay bridge.

Coast Guard: What were you doing out there?
Me: Taking photos.
Coast Guard: Did you know about the hole in the hull?
Me: Ummm, yeah but Cap’n Tyler said the boat was sea worthy.
Coast Guard: (Guffaw)

Anyway, Sunday rolled around, and by then we had come to our senses. Also, Cap’n Tyler said he now had a dog and wife joining us. Mind you, I have nothing against dogs and wives, but if you’re contracting someone to take you somewhere you don’t want the other person to bring their entire family. It would be like hiring a cab and the cabbie stops at his home and picks up his mother-in-law and two kids. Yes, you would all fit in the cab. Yes, you all might be going the same place. But, HEY, I’m paying for the cab. It’s a hire, so what’s with the family?

The good Cap’n called my friend and said, “Looks like we’re going to have to push this little adventure off until Monday because the pier gas is closed on Sundays.” My friend told him we had changed our minds. The Cap’n said something else. My friend said it was like a conversation you have with your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

Girl: I can’t take this any more.
Boy: No, don’t. I’m breaking up with you first.
Girl: You can’t do that because I just broke up with you.
Boy: No, you didn’t.

Whatever. The boat trip was canceled. My friend and I packed a picnic and went for a long walk on the river walk, winding around the Richmond pier. My friend pointed out the place where the Cap’n, his boat, his dog, and his wife were docked and then, as we walked farther out by the Exxon tankers, we strolled past the pier gas station with a huge sign hanging from it that read: “Winter Hours. Open Fri – Sat – Sun, 9am – 6pm.” We stopped and stared at the sign and the open gas station, and we wondered out loud if there was really a check coming for the good Cap’n to repair the hole in his hull.

New Neurologist

Today I saw a new neurologist. Why? Because my f’in insurance kicked all my other neurologists out of my plan. The new guy asked some logical questions about my treatment plan that I couldn’t answer because I’m not sure if I even had a freaking treatment plan with the old doctors. The treatment plan should have had 2 goals:
1) Stop my seizures
2) Stop my migraines

In 6 years, nothing’s changed. I’ve had a headache for 3 weeks that peaked into the mother of all migraines last Thursday. The new guy gave me a prescription for Dilantin. He said my case was more complicated than he originally thought, and he needed to get my medical records from the old docs. He said if the pain persisted, he would refer me to a pain clinic. Yeah. I’ve heard it before. Not that I had much faith but I’m losing what little I had. It’s simply another song with a melody like the last song and when it’s all done, the music will stop, and I won’t have a seat. Well, at least that’s what I thought, speaking as Miss Pessimist 2009 USA. I took the Dilantin, and it killed the headache. Maybe the new guy’s onto something, or maybe he just got lucky, or maybe all that chocolate milk I’ve been drinking had a positive effect.

Transportation Flinging and Squeezing

The Bay Bridge is closed for repairs. The best report is here with the best picture. Scary stuff, considering a steel chunk fell, taking its cable with it and whipping a few cars in the windshield. No one was seriously hurt. I was considering making some smarmy remark about the bridge’s earthquake retrofit, but I’ll just put another chocolate chip/pecan cookie in my pie hole and call it a day. I think flying steel chunks speak for themselves.

This picture was taken at commute time. The BART was overrun with people. The Pittsburg/Baypoint train pulled up to the platform, and people filed into the cars until they looked like sardines lined one against another in their tin can. And then for no particular reason, the train didn’t leave the station. It sat with its doors open. At the last second, this businessman danced into a car as gracefully as a prima ballerina. I was a bit jealous. How could he do that? A lady had approached the car immediately before him, thrown up her hands at its impenetrable sardine line, and blustered off skirt swirling. And me? I would have backed up and charged the car like a bull, slamming my body against the others already in the car. But the business man? He was all grace and charisma with his pressed shirt and perfect hair. He boarded. The doors closed, and he took his fellow sardines down the line with his smile.

This Happened

We saw it Saturday as we were going to Farmer Joe’s for some eats. Hard to imagine how the driver got up enough speed at that tight spot between two lights a block apart on Fruitvale to flip himself like a dolphin at Sea World.

That’s a beer keg to the left of the wreck. Hmmmm. Everyone goes “hmmmm” because of the secret meaning of beer kegs and wrecks. This keg was untapped. More hmmmm.

I told one of the butcher’s at the grocery store, “Look here, I’m not one to ogle at wrecks, but you have to see it.” The butcher went out for a look, and when I stopped by the meat counter for some chicken she asked me, “Do you know the story?” I shook my head. “Tomorrow’s their wedding day. The groom and his groomsmen were in one car, and the bride and her bridesmaids where in another car. They smashed into each other.” The butcher and I looked at each other with screwed up faces. She pulled my meat from under the counter and weighed it. “I told them no way should they get married,” the butcher said. I nodded my head. Though her assessment was hard, I concurred with it. I took my chicken breasts and went off in search of some Pop chips.

Roxy’s Howl-o-ween

The Big Dog’s Cancer

Nikki’s (aka The Big Dog) oncologist called last night. Everything looked good except her lymph node where they found cancer cells. She seems fine for now, albeit a little slower and with a little less hair from shaved spots from surgery and blood tests. We meet with Nikki’s oncologist on Monday and she has proposed going on a new anti-cancer drug called Palladia by Pfizer. Pfizer is providing it free until the first of the year. Thank you Pfizer.

Mimic

This is what happens. The Big Guy leaves for work in the morning and the Big Dog takes his place in bed. The dog puts her head on his pillow and snores, just like him. The dog has the man’s act down to a science. When the Big Guy comes home from work, she abandons the show. If and when the Big Dog starts eating 6 hotdogs for dinner like the Big Guy, I’ll know the dog has gone over the line, taken the show too far.

The Rain

It has been raining here, but honestly, it didn’t seem that bad to me. Guess I was wrong. This is footage from San Francisco and the Muni station at Van Ness.

Drunkest Guy Ever Goes for More Beer

Typical California

Today, It’s rainy, cold, and foggy. This place doesn’t even look like California. It’s more like Maine. I looked out my window as a tumble weed of fog rolled by, bouncing off my neighbor’s car as she left for work.

Tomorrow, we take the Big Dog to the oncologist to hear what she has to say about treating the dog’s cancer. We’re not looking forward to this meet and greet. The Big Dog was supposed to get her stitches out from her tumor removal on Wednesday, but she worked on them while we were running errands Saturday. The Little Dog told on her when we came home, greeting us at the door silently with her pointed accusatory nose, aimed at the Big Dog, “Look at her. Such slobbering and chewing.”

And I meant to post about his last week, but I forgot. A Safeway truck tipped over on the new S curve of the Bay Bridge. Story here.

The driver admitted he was speeding at 55mph because he didn’t know the new speed limit was 40. The 40MPH speed limit is posted in huge white letters on the bridge that even I can see and there’s a flashing sign, “DANGER.” I don’t know what to say other than I knew the S curve was going to be a problem. It’s not a marvel of modern engineering. It’s not a 7th wonder of the world. If you could do negative wonders of the world, it would be one of those. Maybe -546 wonder of the world.

Here’s a video I took with my phone, coming off the bay bridge, going toward Oakland.

I’m traveling the opposite direction as the Safeway truck, but you can still see how the bus hikes its skirt coming around the S curve. There’s marks all over the place at that spot where people have bob sledded the concrete and the retainer wall. Could be a new Winter Olympics category – Bay Bridge S Curve Bob Sled. The headlines? “Safeway Truck fails to win gold.”