"The Vice Presidency is like the last cookie on the plate. Everybody insists he won't take it, but somebody always does." - Bill Vaughan

U-Haul, an adventure in moving.

Our realtor stopped by this evening to put the lock box on the door for tomorrow's official start to our listing.
We have 10 showings scheduled for tomorrow beginning at 8:30 and continuing through to 6:15.
It ain't over 'til there's an accepted offer but I sure like this start.

I got an email this morning from Alonso, my host in Costa Rica. "Do you like coffee?"
Uhm...yeah, only if it's a day ending in Y.
"Good! I'll take you on a coffee tour. It's famous."
Score!

I paid good money to have the front brakes on Pam's Kia done. I feel like a failure but there just isn't time for that task on my to-do list.

"Cut and Buff" = what comes after you've sprayed color and clear coat. Wet sand with five progressively finer grits of sandpaper and then buff using a wheel with two progressively finer compounds. The former is exceedingly tedious and the latter exceedingly messy, throwing compound everywhere. But the resulting gloss makes it worthwhile.
The doors and fenders are done.
Now I can install the door handles and mirror. Yeah, singular. In 1959 pickup trucks were sold to farmers and plumbers, so things like passenger side mirrors and passenger sun visors were rarely chosen dealer installed options. This truck doesn't have mounting holes for either.

Pam likes The Incredible Dr. Pol on NatGeo (I think). That show is in on the trend of throwing up something akin to subtitles - little boxes with text that expands on or explains what's being broadcast with the audio/video. Saturday night's show included a bit in which a little kid couldn't deal with watching one of his dad's donkeys get castrated. The text box said, "Vasovagal syncope is the sudden fainting at the sight of blood."
Wrong.
Made me want to climb through the TV and give somebody a dope slap.
Vasovagal syncope is a sudden drop in blood pressure with typically results in fainting, but the cause can be physiological or psychological (like the sight of blood).
I've dealt with it for most of my life, with a few notable occurrences while flying. The worst of those was about eight years ago when the Phx-Sea flight I was on put down in Vegas so the passenger in 18C could be scooped up off the floor and taken to the hospital. Pam and Steve had to make a mid-night drive to fetch me home.
Not pretty.
It happened again, much less severe, a year or so ago on a flight to Portland, OR on one of our property hunting trips.
So you can imagine that there was some anxiety at our house about a trip to Costa Rica that means three different flights over the better part of a day. And then the return 12 days later.

At my appointment with the pacemaker tech three months ago I happened to mention that I've had bouts of vasovagal syncope, including on flights, and that it's been...uhm...inconvenient. About 50% of the time the incident results in a gran mal seizure.

BEST NEWS EVER?? (OK, at least for that entire month):
He said I DO have vasovagal syncope but I do NOT have seizures. Yes!! The latter are electrical storms in the brain, and what I've had is the brain's response to a loss of blood supply because of that rapid BP drop.
This guy is very good and very dedicated. He spent the next hour working the issue, including calling a tech at St. Jude's, the manufacturer of my pacemaker. That guy agreed, and together they reprogrammed my pacemaker. Now, when my heart rate suddenly drops, as it seems to do on occasion for no apparent reason, my pacemaker won't just bring it back up to 70 and then turn off. It will take it up to 120 and hold it there for three minutes, then back it down in steps. That will prevent my brain from blood (oxygen) deprivation, and that will prevent me from flopping on the floor like a fish.
I'll climb on that first flight, from Phx to Dallas/Ft Worth, Wednesday morning fully confident that I'll have three boring flights and arrive in San Jose, CR eager to get to work.

BTW, that last time, the one on the flight to OR, was more like a petit mal. I got a little weird, broke out in a drenching sweat, and spent the next hour recovering, laying on Pam's chest. It was the only place I could collapse. Afterward we agreed it was a good thing she was my seat mate. Could have been pretty awkward otherwise.