Meet Me In Saint Louis

It’s times like this when I hate being a homeowner.

You come back from a vacation only to find that your area had some heavy thunderstorms and during that time, the sump pump decides to fail.

The basement, the same area that houses the man-cave that also houses every shred of music related being to yours truly.

Aside from the IPod, which provided some awesome shuffle moments, by the way.
The water level was only enough to dampen the carpet, but it was enough to warrant sucking up all the water on the night before you prepare to return to reality.

Luckily, the guitars were house and there was no significant water to get into the cases.

The drums are stored rims down, so there will probably be some corrosion, but I hate those Tamas, anyway.

A few guitar pedals were stored in a stupid cardboard box instead of a waterproof bag like they should have been in-and were in the soak, limp bottom of the box. I don’t think any water made it into the guts of the pedals, but I need to test this stuff out. There’s an awesome Ibanez analog-delay pedal that is awesome; it’s already a bit touchy since it’s about thirty years old, and it’s the one thing that I’m the most worried about.

There were a few albums sitting on the floor, so now I have about a dozen albums with virtually no monetary value now because of the water-damaged cover. The only one I can think had any significant collectability was that live Butthole Surfers album that only had about 10,000 copies pressed.

But I hate those Buttholes, anyway.

You’re asking, “Don’t you have insurance?” but the first thing you need to understand is that you need a special “Sump Pump rider” added on to your insurance to cover claims that are caused by a malfunctioning sump pump.

You’re asking, “Don’t you have that sump pump rider?” and…yes, I actually do.
But even with a rusty floor tom, a waterlogged Butthole Surfers album, and a soaked carpet, there’s realistically not enough damage to meet the deductable. Sure, I could start creating a list of all the potentially damaged things, but again, how much is out of pocket and how much is State Farm.

Saint Louis proved to be firmly placed in 1995-thankfully-but enjoyable as always.

The Arch didn’t have the same impact on my kids as it did with me or my wife. Within 10 minutes, they were ready to go back down, ignoring my retort of “But we’re at the top of a huge arch!”

The Magic House was totally awesome and it would be easy to spend a day there with your kids, provided they’re focused enough to find something to do with a little bit of imagination. What prompted us to leave wasn’t necessarily that there was nothing left to do, but the reality that some three-year old girl stayed up late the night before, got up early, and decided to forgo a nap that afternoon.

Saint Francisville, Missouri-population 18-gave me one last chance to stop and buy some fireworks before returning to a stay which doesn't allow me to set off fireworks. There's something about being in a large warehouse full of black powder and nonsensical packaging that causes you to spend a half a weeks worth of groceries on fireworks

I mean, there's a firework called "American Heroes" which features a picture of Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States. At least I guess he was the seventh president, that's what the Chinese worker that came up with the design, claims.

We did some other family things that have nothing to do with this blog, so thanks for staying tuned while I get some things in order and figure out where to situate the digital meanderings.