GARAGE SALES ARE GOOD
Coming out of a service at RVC a couple Sunday’s back with a lamp filled with fresh oil, a garage sale was detected on my GPS Radar. The initial blip quickly ascended to DEFCON 1 Red Status. Sitting in the driveway of the garage sale was this Beast detected by radar, instinct & guts.
This $950.00 (MSRP) Leviathan of a Bodacious Booming Bass Box was procured for a paltry $10.00. Only one small problem. The 8 pin mini DIN cable was missing. It’s a crucial part needed for the little square control module to communicate with the Subwoofer. The control module tells the sub–through the cable that the Hurls wants to KICK OUT THE JAMS! What to do? After googling NHT, a call was made. The NHT rep at the other end of their 800 number wanted $30.00 + shipping for the cable alone. He was informed in no uncertain terms that those terms were unacceptable. With a slight smirk (perhaps that was imagined through the filter of my hypersensitive unresolved child-of-origins issues) he said; “Good luck finding a replacement buddy. They are to be had, but the rubber molding rarely fits our product.” A challenge like that begs to be met with victory.
Bless his heart for that little piece of unsolicited Intel.
Now armed with the necessary coordinates, a cable was located from Cables2Go. Amazon just delivered this for $4.81.
Sure enough, after getting the package off the porch and extracting the contents with sweaty palms, the rubber would not fit in the plugs. The snarky, smirky little rep was right. However, he had no idea that a music animal graduate from the Lamphere Class of ’72, born in the “D” was at the other end of his line. It was time to Adapt & Overcome. What to do? O’ praise God for straight razors. After a careful trim job the male ends of the cable were securely ensconced into both female receptors of the module and the sub. That’s called the Natural Order Of Things. Amen?
After wiring the whole system up…WOW. What a difference a high quality subwoofer can make! HALLELUJAH! Listen to this jam.
Holy Guacamole’! If you ever need to check out the sonic harmonics of any system, use “Real Fine Love” by John Hiatt. It’s a very good test song as the highs are high, the lows are low…and the mids punch like Tommy Hearns. With this sub, it’s like having a whole new music library. After a couple hours of shaking the grout from my front windows, my landlord Dennis and I met on his front porch. He’s a great guy with a good heart. He’s rare among landlords as he’ll take a chance on a tenant who may not be…ahem…a prime candidate for a rental…like moi’ at one time. We did not meet because he wasn’t cool with the bump. No…it seems one of his tenants (who just happens to be on parole) and living across the street, stole a gun from his employer. The Royal Oak Police have no sense of humor about parolees shenanigans in their town. They converged like a swarm of flies to a pile of shit.
Very grateful it wasn’t me this time.
The guy slipped through their net before the swarm converged…But they WILL get his sorry ass. THEY ALWAYS DO. That’s their gig. I happen to know my neighbor’s PO Matt Roznowski. We became acquainted through other circumstances. He’s a very tough, but fair guy. I use to call him (with affection) Rambo Roznowski. Act like a moron and he’ll bitch-slap you faster than Liberace’ at a piano recital. Act like a man and he treats you like one. It’s that simple. While I am called to support and encourage felons of all stripes, I never lose sight that cops, PO’s and other law enforcement types have a very tough gig. In other words, the Hurls will never be accused of being some kind of bleeding heart, limousine liberal. For one thing, I drive a 15 year old Honda with 232k on it. O’ no my friends, Having been the recipient of much undeserved grace, I’m all about the dispensation thereof to others. However, that sorry bastard across the street is going down. He’ll get violated and do 5 years on the gun charge alone. What a idiot. Here we are in beautiful Royal Oak on the eve of Arts, Beats & Eats…and this moron is going to steal a gun from his boss, threaten to shoot him with it and try to hide out on Lincoln Ave.?
That’s like being a chicken and taunting Colonel Sanders.
That boy picked the wrong time for a stunt like that. I tried to engage him in conversation one night while we were both parking on the street. In my usual sensitive manner, I introduced myself as a tenant of the same landlord, asked him not to park in my spot and offered him a few pointers on making it through parole while staying in Royal Oak. We did not connect.
He’s one of those young cats with all the answers.
Now he’s going back to prison with all those answers and I’m bumping away with this new subwoofer.
Thank you Jesus.
Pray for James. He’s gonna’ need it.
One more song. This one is for Bill. He loves Elvis.