My paternal grandfather, Bruce Lanpher Cartter, published a genealogy in 1973 of the Cartter family. I’ll be posting chapters from that book, along with the family tree, over to the side. Look for it in the upcoming days.

Meanwhile, I am still tired and cranky from my road trip. I think I will do as TMBWitW says and just sit down and watch a movie.

I’ll post more later, I promise.

I had occasion to travel to Kingman this past weekend. Twice. The first time was for a wedding, and TMBWitW and I drove her car (1994 Infiniti J30) in spite of it’s history of transmission problems. The second time I was driving a friend’s Dodge Durango with a car transporter behind it.

We paid for ignoring history. Please refer to this post for all the details.

The first trip, on Saturday, we managed to average 70-75 mph, running with traffic for the most part, and passing when it was either a passing lane or a four lane stretch. I don’t feel it is safe to pass on a two lane stretch, unless the vehicle ahead is moving at docking speed and I can see the road ahead for about two miles. That doesn’t happen too much on Highway 93.

The second trip, on Sunday, I was the slower vehicle. I averaged 65-70 on the way there, and I couldn’t believe the number of vehicles in a hurry to get to Kingman. In all fairness, they may have been headed on through to Las Vegas, but still…

I was passed by a lot of people, but the ones who scared me the most were the ones who felt they could force either me or the oncoming traffic to hit the brakes so they could complete the pass in safety. That happened a lot more than you would think, considering that stretch of road’s reputation for accidents.

On the way back, I was moving even slower – averaging 50-55 mph, and playing tag with a thunderstorm for most of the trip. Yes, I got passed by big trucks, little trucks, cars, and even a Mini Cooper (Actual Size sticker in the back window) at one point.

My beef? The MORONS who would pass no matter whether they had the clearance or not! In one instance, I had to hit my brakes hard (with a car transporter? what fun, cary!) in order to let the jerk back in – meanwhile, the big truck coming at us was locking up his trailer tires, blowing his big horn, and flashing his headlights at this racer wannabe. The truck driver and I were both shaking our heads and, I am sure, looking for fresh underwear by the time we were passing each other.

I am just very thankful that I don’t have to make that trip everyday, and my prayers are with those who do.

Let’s start by saying, thank you, U-Haul, for making sure no one can sue you for renting inadequate equipment.

I couldn’t get a hitch put on my QX4. For all it’s “SUV”-ness, it doesn’t have the frame to haul a transporter with a car on it. So, can U-Haul rent me a truck big enough for that job, and an auto transporter? Nope. Not on the last day of the month, unless I had a reservation.

Thank you, P and T (more friends! more initials! I’ll never keep them all straight…) for loaning your Durango to the cause. That is an SUV in all it’s glory. I love V-8 power. Not the gas mileage, but the power – my goodness. Didn’t manage a high rate of speed, but it was a steady speed – up hills and down dales.

Rented a transporter, after getting the Durango from P and T. Finally got J.P.’s car loaded, and ready to go, by 1:00 Sunday afternoon. Hit the road, and the weather. Hot and sticky in the Valley, then as boring as ever through Wickenburg and Wikieup, with the exception of the suicidal drivers who insist on passing whether there’s enough room for them or not. About 10 miles south of I-40, the temperature went from 103 to 71 in a mile and a half, and the rain came pouring down. Fought the rain until DW Ranch road, and then it cleared up and warmed up again.

Once I got to J.P.’s house, it was easy enough getting his car off; after all, his transmission works just fine. Then we had to sit and think. The J30’s tranny was thrashed. There was a forward drive, after a fashion. There was no reverse. Neutral sounded like ball bearings in the dryer, but it was kind of there. OK, I knew that I wouldn’t have any help unloading by the time I got back to Phoenix, so we figured we would back it onto the trailer. Remember no reverse? That’s right, neutral and five grown men pushing got that sucker onto the trailer. Tied down, gassed up, and gone – at a blazing 55 miles per hour. With the weight of the engine over the back axle of the trailer, any faster than that would induce a fishtail action that I was not fond of. Time of departure: 6:00 p.m. Long day so far, longer day yet to come.

I caught back up with the rain before I hit Wickenburg. By that time, it was a full blown storm, with wind gusts and sideways rain. What fun! About the time I hit the cut/rise at the Highway 89 turn off, to Bagdad and Hillside, I was down to about 40 miles per hour, due to lack of visibility. Good thing, too, as it turns out – when I hit that cut, the wind coming down 89 pushed the whole show to the right by a good two feet – onto the shoulder. This is called pucker factor – and this is when God’s hand is seen – I didn’t lose control of it. The trailer stayed behind the Durango, and I eased back onto the roadway proper, never left pavement, and continued on my way. Cleared the rain in Wickenburg, and it chased me the rest of the way home.

Long story short (too late!) my head hit my pillow about 11:45, after dropping off the car, returning the trailer, and gassing up the Durango – again. I am tired. I got into work about an hour late, but that hour was worth it for the sleep.

“An Adventure In Moving” – no kidding!

And the car’s transmission died. Again. We were on our way to Kingman to attend N and J’s wedding. About twenty miles before the ramp to I-40, there was a loud grinding, a very metallic *thump*, and lo and behold, we now had a direct-drive system to push the car.

(Casting note: TMBWitW’s Cousin will be referred to as J.P., until permission is received to use his name. His Wife will be referred to as S.P., the daughter as N, the groom as J. Cute couple, actually. Their love for each other and devotion to one another was so obvious I needed to check for diabetes anytime they were near. Love you guys!)

It wouldn’t be so aggravating except that we have had about a year’s worth of trouble with the transmission, starting last September with Lee Myles. They were unable to satisfactorily rebuild the transmission over an eight-month period, in spite of several tries. At one point, they insisted that the problem was due to overheating, and I was dinged for a new integrated radiator. That would have been plausible, except that within a week of the new radiator it broke again.

That was the last time Lee Myles was allowed near my transmission.

We paid for another rebuild (I know, it was still under warranty from Lee Myles – but really, if they can’t fix it, do you keep taking it back?) at another shop. All was well, until this trip.

Sometimes, it doesn’t pay to get up in the morning.

We nursed the car to J.P.’s house. It is sitting there right now, as I wait for U-Haul to open. I need to get a hitch put on our QX4, and rent a transporter to take J.P.’s car back to them, and retrieve the J30. Can you believe that? S and J let us use their car to drive back to Phoenix last night, so our Furkids wouldn’t have to spend the night alone.

That’s terrific, isn’t it? Thank, guys. You are wonderful.

Well, I’m off to U-Haul to get a hitch put on. I’ll update you later…

Mea Culpa.

Talk about an embarrassment.

I’m a pretty computer-savvy guy, you know? I’ve been around computers since the floppies were bigger than the dinner plates – as a user. I was a cat herder – er, network administrator for a while in the ’90s, but I never got into the uber-user, HTML spouting, raw-coding side of things.

Well, look at me now! I’m a certified moron! I managed to goof, something semi-serious.

Over there in the left column, under the counter, is a colorful little icon-thingy that looks like one of the Arizona automobile license plates. It identifies this site as a member of the Arizona Bloggers webring – or it would, if it was active. In a typical (for me) learning experience, I was being my efficient self – so I thought. When I signed up to join the AZ Bloggers, I got an e-mail from the webmaster telling me exactly what to do. Actually, I signed up both of my blogs – my normal voice blog (Yes, Cartter With Two Ts) and this Snarky voice blog that you are currently reading and wishing you hadn’t stumbled into on such a nice day.

At any rate, I received two emails from Mr. Webmaster – one for each blog. So – I clicked through on the first one (for the other blog, which in hindsight is painfully obvious), grabbed the little piece of code that puts that colorful little icon-thingy on the web page, and pasted into the code for the template for the other blog.

This is where my efficiency and knowledge of computers collide in a rather humbling display of hubris.

I opened another window into the Internet. I started another blog edit session. I logged into this blog. I copied THE SAME PIECE OF CODE into this template.

Mr. Webmaster was not amused. Well, maybe he was, but in his gruff, webmasterly tone he promptly discontinued the link to this site.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the great Cary has broken the ring! This blog was listed for less than twelve hours, and I managed to bring down the wrath of the ring leader. Apparently, the code is unique (due to an identifier) to each web site!

<smack forehead with hand>

Who knew? Well, obviously, a lot of people KNEW – I just wasn’t invited to the information pool party.

Remember a few entries back where I snarked at the anonymous commenter? Guess what, anonymous? I’m not perfect! I just learned something. Hey, guess what else? I’m going to practice what I preach and LEARN form this mistake, thereby eliminating (to a great degree) the chance of REPEATING this mistake. Hopefully, by the time you have gotten this far, the Webmaster has grudgingly allowed me back into the inner circle, with a minimum of grumbling and threats.

And that, dear lurkers, is what it’s all about.

Learn, do, make mistakes, learn from mistakes, don’t repeat the mistakes, learn even more.

My Grandfather once told me, “Making a mistake is normal. Making the same mistake over and over again is just plain asinine.” How true, and how guiding. I miss you, gramps.