Cleared for takeoff

I've scribbled here before about fundraising auctions at my kids' high school. In fact, because they were so impressively written and made such an indelible impression, you probably recall those posts about the south central L.A.P.D. ride-a-longs I won in previous auctions.

If for some odd reason your memory fails you, now might be a good time to refresh it by reading this post. Or this one. Maybe this one. Who could forget this one? Some think this one was the best. I think this one was one of my finest. And of course, this one is a classic.

I think that's enough self-promoting for one post. Let's get on with it

Last night was this year's auction for the school. Since my kid's are in college and I don't have a horse in the race anymore, I find myself not having to go to their former high school events much. But my wife does work at the school, and she likes to show me off for the trophy husband I am. Plus the auction is an event I've always liked. So we went.

There are two parts to the evening. One is after dinner, where bidders raise their assigned I.D. numbers to bid on items the auctioneer is calling. But before that is the silent auction, where you add your bid to a list for a particular item. When that auction closes, the highest bid wins.

I see it. I guess the highest bid wins in every auction.

Sadly, there were no police ride-a-longs to win this year. However, there was a 90-minute experience in a 737 flight simulator which I wanted. And when I want something bad enough, I usually figure out a way to get it. I'm like the MacGyver of school auctions.

Anyway, the way I did it this time, and every time before, was by sniping. Since it was a silent auction item, I hovered around the list of bids until about thirty seconds before the auction closed. Then, at the last second, right before pens down, I wrote my number and bid on the list—$20 higher than the last bid.

BAM! Auction closed, and I'm on my way to pretend flying a 737 somewhere in Anaheim.

It's part of my Fly But Don't Get My License tour. Years ago, I took helicopter lessons. I have about 30 hours of airtime, but never completed getting my pilot's license. It's a long story. You can read about it here.

Ok, I snuck in one more self-promoting link. So sue me.

I'll be scheduling my 737 flight later in the week. I even get to take a couple people with me. Play your cards right, and maybe you'll be one of the lucky ones to join Captain Jeff on my flight to nowhere.

I can't guarantee it'll be a smooth one, but I can promise even though it's simulated it'll still be a lot better than United.

No know how

As I've written about on here before, I'm about to embark on a bold, new, money-sucking, patience-straining, marriage-testing, argument-inducing adventure: my kitchen and living room remodel.

Like everyone who goes down this road of no return, my journey began at Home Depot and Lowe's. The wife and I didn't just go there to get ideas about bathroom vanities, kitchen sinks, drawer pulls and countertops. We were also armed with a list of items from our contractor we had to either purchase or make decisions on before they start.

If you know anything about me, you know I like figuring out how things work and, if needed, could MacGyver a way into building a house from the ground up using only a hammer, spatula, paper straws and lawn grass.

Nah, I'm just funnin' you. I can't put together a bookshelf from Ikea. But I can tell you the first film Jeff Goldblum was in—that's gotta be worth something at some point.

Where was I? Oh, right. So to paraphrase Blanche DuBois in Streetcar Named Desire, when it comes to construction I do depend on the knowledge of strangers. Of course it helps if the strangers actually know more than I do. And while there are a lot of scary things about this process, not least among them is the frightening fact I may already have more answers to my questions than the people who work at Home Depot or Lowe's. That just ain't right.

The good news is the big box hardware and lumber stores aren't the only game in town. Fortunately, thanks to a trusted recommendation, we discovered the family-owned Faucets & Fixtures in Orange. They have a quiet little storefront in a not great section of Tustin Avenue that comes nowhere near tipping its hand to the remodeling wonderland waiting inside.

In an experience that was a first, their employees know all about the inventory and are able to answer all the questions. "Yes it comes in polished nickel, but it's plastic-y on the inside." "You can get the one-piece Memoirs toilet, but the two-piece is about $400 cheaper." "That's a stock medicine cabinet, but we can custom build one for you no problem." "The sink is ten inches deep, but the porcelain finish is brighter and thicker on that one." The store has a big selection, yet isn't overwhelming.

I could make a hundred trips to Home Depot and Lowe's, and never get as much done as we accomplished in a couple hours at Faucets & Fixtures with our man Austin.

The point is this-once you've had knowledgable, friendly, patient customer service, there's no going back. It's like going from J.C.Penny to Nordstrom. Stater Bros. to Trader Joe's. Winchell's to Starbuck's (Those are big corporations, but you get my continental drift).

From now on, it's mom and pop, family-owned, highly recommended merchants for all things having to do with the remodel and beyond.

And in case you're looking to win a bar bet, his first movie was Death Wish.