Showing posts with label Derrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Derrick. Show all posts

Saturday, April 13, 2019

Record Store Day '19

What's up, Internet.

Hey, check out this record I didn't buy today. . .
You know, all I really wanted to do today was head over to Radio Wasteland for Record Store Day.  That's it, nothing crazy.  I wasn't even planning on waking up at the ass-crack of dawn like I did last year, either:  compared to the 2018 release list, the offerings in 2019 were pretty lame.  A couple items that raised an eyebrow, but the only one I was really interested in was a limited release of B-Sides and alternate takes by Weezer from their Blue Album era.

That's about it.

Nevertheless, it's a hell of a lot of fun to putz around in a record store day, and since it's Record Store Day and everything, I figured it was a fitting way to spend one's morning and afternoon.

Buuuuut, Kris' van had other plans.

Emptying out Kris' old 2007 Chevy Uplander. . .
Over the course of the last couple weeks, her minivan - that she's owned since 2009, if you'll be so good to recall - started making strange noises.  Rattles, whistles, you name it.  It would come and go, too, and would vary in intensity and volume depending on the day.  Eventually, she took it in and had it looked at, and, long story short, she needed to have several things replaced and/or repaired.  We're talking upwards of $1,000.  On a twelve-year-old van.

So we had to face the music.  Was it better to a.) dump a couple grand into the Uplander, that we don't owe anything on and have been making zero payments on for almost a decade, in the hopes of getting it to last another couple years, or b.) sell the Uplander while it was still worth something, and use the trade-in value and some of our money in savings as a down payment towards a new van.

We decided to go with B.

Alayna says farewell to the Tactical Family Transport Vehicle. . .

(Was a bit windy out.  And we had to take a break from our time at the dealership to pick her up from a sleepover birthday party, hence the unkempt appearance.)
2016 Chrysler Town and Country
Our good friend Morgan works over Midland City Ford, and had promising to hook us up whenever we needed a new vehicle.  We knew he'd give us a an optimal deal on a new vehicle, and were therefore determined to buy through his dealership.  For a week or so, we perused their website, keeping tabs on all the new and incoming minivans they had in stock.  Eventually, we came across a black 2016 Chrysler Town and Country with only 50,000 miles on it at a reasonable price, and decided to go in today to check it out.

Unfortunately, we ran into a few snags.  First of all, Morgan had the day off, so he wouldn't be in to help us out.  Secondly, the van had two viewings (where potential customers make a scheduled appointment to come in and check out the vehicle) for the day - one in the morning, one around noon.  If the van was truly the catch it appeared to be, we were convinced it wouldn't be around long enough for us to have an opportunity to check it out.  Someone would pounce on it.

We did have a few cards up our sleeve, however.  Morgan, who's an assistant sales manager at the dealership, hooked us up with a trusted salesman who he knew well that would take care of us.  He was also able to get this salesmen to squeeze us in between the two viewing appointments, and even went so far as to have the salesman deter the first customers away from the van in question.  This ultimately proved unnecessary, though: the first couple that looked at the van decided against it because they wanted a minivan with heated seats.

Seriously.

Kris takes the Town and Country for a test drive. . .
We rolled in around 9:30am and met up with the salesman, who showed us the van and went over the fine print with us.  The Town and Country was only two years old and looked brand new, and looked very similar to an older model that we had picked up as a rental when we flew home for Christmas of 2011.

Kris crunches some numbers while waiting for our salesman to return.
Following a test drive and a review of the vehicle's service record, we decided to pull the trigger on it.  We spent the next couple hours negotiating the price of the vehicle down to a few grand below the original asking price, with about $2,000 for our trade-in (R.I.P. Chevy Uplander) and a new set of high-end tires thrown in (the tread on the Town and Country were at about 60%, so we negotiated for nicer ones.)  The entire duration of this back-and-forth negotiating had Morgan texting me, his sales rep, and their boss repeatedly, making the deal as beneficial as possible to everyone.  We're extremely grateful he was able to win us the deal on this that he was - saved us the hassle of having to deal with sleazy salesmen or other dealership theatrics.

Happy wife, happy life.
The Cannonball was pretty excited to get a new car, too.  As can be seen here.
One of the van's features that Kris completely goes ape-shit for is the fold-down seats, which allows for a ridiculous amount of storage room (summer camping trips comes to find, for sure.)  With the back row seats upright, the truck space is nearly triple what we had in the last van (because it opens up below into a sub-floor compartment as well. . . which will come in handy on weekly grocery trips, or whatever the hell Kris does with her van on a weekly basis, I don't know.
Kris and her new ride

So, on what should have been a pretty bitchin' Saturday for Yours Truly, spending a few hours digging through stacks of records and scoring a few treasures, Kris bought herself a nearly-new, top-of-the-line minivan.  The irony in all of this, of course, it that it was me that was supposed to be getting a new car next - we've been snowballing money into our savings account so that I could buy a new car out of pocket (my car being even older than the Uplander, and handling far worse in the snow.)

And now that we pulled a chunk of change out of savings to put the down payment on Kris' new van, we're going to have to make up all that lost ground, and my new car will have to recede further into the distance.

Being an adult sucks.

- Brian

Friday, December 20, 2013

Santa Meets the League of Extraordinary Soccer Moms

YULE!!!!!!!!!!!
We sure do love seeing Santa in this house.   I mean, I know the guy's cool and everything - God knows he's got a thing for handing out free crap to kids each year, right? - but I honestly don't know how many photo-ops with the poor guy we really need.  The girls have already met him at both of their schools, and now Kris has taken them over to some lady's house so that they can see him for a third time.

Borrowing dress-up clothes. . .
Let's hope the guy's gotten their requests down by now.  Third time's the charm.

Anyway, as you may or may not recall, Kris is a member of the Leagues of Extra-ordinary Soccer Moms (of Hunter's Creek) - a group of privileged moms that get together for various kid-related activities.  Somehow - and I really don't know how - Kris knows every mom in the greater Hunter's Creek/Southchase area, whether it be from the Order or her church.  As such, her calendar is solidly booked with kid activities, and never moreso than during the Holidays, where lately it feels like we've involved with some sort of Christmas obligation every day throughout the month of December.

So, readers, behold the latest Hough Christmas outing - Santa Visits the League of Extraordinary Soccer Moms (or whatever the hell they call themselves.)

Enjoy:

If it's one thing Alayna hates, it's eating.
Abby got a huge kick out of this vanity play set (that belonged to one of the little girls that lived at the house) - we may have to pick one of those things up. . .
The Arrival of Claus. . .
Alayna was that obnoxious kid who bum-rushes Santa and refuses to let go of his hand. . . total opposite of Abby, who cowered behind Kris is mortal terror.
Time for stories (note Alayna's hand clinging to Santa's belt.)
A smaller turnout this year - last year this room was packed.
Santa entertaining a captive audience.
Santa and the Cannonball
Alayna beau, Derrick, was also there with his family. . .  the Order is indeed far-reaching.
Abby's pity candy cane (she wouldn't go near Claus to save her life.)
Homegirls.
Saying farewell to Santa and his bitchin' throwback ride.
Abby, happy that the threat is over.
- Brian

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Monkey Woes

Today we celebrated the Cannonball's Fifth Birthday (a week early, for scheduling reasons).

(On a side note,  I  think it's pretty impressive that I've managed to keep a human being alive for five years.)

Anyway, this year, because it's her fifth and she'll be going into Kindergarten in August, we decided to throw her a grand ol' bash to celebrate.  Kris and the mother of one of Alayna's classmates (Derrick) discussed having a co-party for the kids, seeing how their birthdays are a week apart, which would be beneficial for all parties involved seeing how a.) the cost of the party itself would be halved, and b.) more kids would come.

So that's what we did.  They (the moms that planned this - I don't plan on anything) decided on a bounce-house/Chuck E. Cheese-ish joint called Monkey Joe's.  Not sure if you have that where you're at, but if so. . . don't bother.  I wasn't too impressed with the place, mainly because I'm a grown-ass man who doesn't get down with bounce houses and shitty pizza.  They didn't really take adults into consideration when they designed the place, and c'mon. . . the adults are the ones that bring their kids to these places.  

It's not like the kids are loading themselves up into mini-vans and caravanning out to the local bounce house.

I mean, they didn't even serve adult beverages.  Jesus, Chuck E. Cheese at least gave you watered down Bud Light and cheap chardonnay in a plastic cup.  It ain't hard, and God knows the crap Chuck was selling wasn't expensive.  Monkey Joe's not only failed to provide beer or wine, but they didn't even have coffee.

Who the hell doesn't serve coffee in a restaurant?  That's, like, No. 2 behind water, isn't it?

Anyway, the party was a huge success - the kids had a blast and, in the end, I guess that's slightly more important than Yours Truly having a blast. . . which probably wasn't going to happen at a bounce house anyway.

Check it out:

Monkey Joe's is located inside Pointe Place Orlando, down by the Orlando Convention Center and all the upscale hotels.  Not sure why it was deemed fancy enough to be down there, but hey. . .
A lot like Chuck E. Cheese's, only cleaner and way more spacious. . .
Their bounce houses are pretty cool. . . if you're into that sort of thing.  (I'm not.)
We were assigned the Blue Room.
Big fan of bounce houses.
Derrick and Alayna discuss their primary concern for the party:  the probability of mixing up and taking home one another's presents by mistake.
Cakes and party favors. . .
A rare Voigt sighting.  We used to see these guys on an almost weekly basis, but having kids and being responsible adults spells doom for grown up fun time. . .
Fun in the Photo Booth
Birthday kids
Kris and her mom
You can imagine how loud this room was. . .
Abby can down a juice box in seconds.
Healthy lunch.
Holding court.
If you can believe it, lately Abby hasn't been clearing her plate.  Here, Abby doesn't want the rest of her third slice.
Back into the bounce house. . .
Keeping a steady vigil.
Monkey Joe makes his big entrance. . .
Alayna had zero fear of this dude.  In fact, she obnoxiously refused to let go of the ape's hand.
Every kid in this room is anxiously awaiting Monkey Joe's entrance into the Blue Room. . . except one.  Guess which one.
. . . did you guess Abby?
Grandma Jordan to the rescue. . .
Birthday balloons/t-shirts
Singing 'Happy Birthday'
Somewhat calmed down.
Chaos.
Monkey Joe, being molested by children.
The Taylers.  God knows our family pictures never look this happy. . .
I don't know what the hell this game was. . .
The Cannonball and her boyfriend. . .
The Aftermath (both kids got a shit-load of gifts.)
I wish I had a whack-a-mole machine in my house. . . I wouldn't have to waste so much damn time 'parenting.'
Selfies in the Photo Booth. . .
Silverware is for suckers.
Funned.  Out.
- Brian