So far things have not been too bad, I am still at home, bills are paid, mortgage renegotiated, thanks to "J".
I have got paid for some articles, there is unemployment (won't last forever) I take care of the children so there is no child care or after school expenses. I make dinner and the children's lunches.
My blog posts are mostly sunny, cars, family outings, successes at passing.
Ah but is that reality, no I am afraid that is only a partial picture. Reality hit home this evening as I checked my e-mail to find a note from the company I interviewed with recently. Despite what I thought was a great interview and a positive response to my follow up I didn't get the job. There were vague promises of future consulting positions, which seemed worse than a flat out rejection.
I cannot afford in every meaning of the word to wait around for hollow promises.
Even before I had read the entire e-mail I burst into tears, no one sends an e-mail to tell you that you got the job. I retreated to bed and sobbed myself to sleep, thank god I passed out as the pain of my own thoughts was too great.
Depressing thoughts swirled in my head like phantoms, " they read you from the beginning, you were never really in the running, they would be embarrassed to have you represent the company, you cannot even get a marketing job below your old position, you are useless".
Did they call an old boss who didn't know, or harbours a grudge?
My head hurts, I know others have had worse experiences, "J' counsels that they treated me respectfully and to move on and not give up. I feel like a wimp for complaining but thanks for listening and letting me pour out my heart .
April
Here is a cute little movie from my go to band for music to listen to while depressed but don't let stop you watching:
I have bought two Lincoln Mark IV's from "M", bookends, a 72 and a 76 representing the first and last year of production. Or as I know them the blue Lincoln and the green Lincoln. I have shared photos of both my babies on this blog.
Max lives two blocks over and owns only Lincolns though his fleet gets updated every few years unlike mine which just gets more vintage. We would see each other on occasion and sometimes he would show up with a rare replacement part now and again. "M's" wife "H" also loves Lincolns, she has had Marks, Continentals, Town Cars and even a newish LS model, which I would soon find out
I had not seen either since September when I transitioned to full time. Two months ago when it was still cold, I had rushed off one Saturday morning to fill the green 76 Mark IV with some premium crushed dinosaur juice. I was not really dressed to impress, just jeans, sweater, jacket a minimum makeup.
I noticed a Lincoln LS drive slowly by, through the tinted window I could see the driver checking out my Mark IV. Birds of a feather I thought, guy is likely admiring my lowered Continental with the old school wires and thinking that has to be a pretty cool chick to drive such a bitchin' car. As the LS made a second pass I realized it was a woman behind the wheel (well women like cars too) as she cruised past I spied the vanity plate, OMG treat was "H" M's wife!
I wonder if she recognized me? After depositing my life savings with the gas station attendant I drove home parked the Lincoln and walked my youngest over to her best friends house. After a few minutes chat I headed home only to see "H" car parked in front of my house and her peering in the window of my Mark IV. By the time I neared the house she obviously satisfied herself that it was her old car and that it was still owned by that guy they sold it to.
I am sure she was upset that the paint was so faded, however it was already dead from the Florida sun when I bought her 15 years ago!
As soon as I got in the children chorused, there was some strange woman looking at your car, I know I know I replied. Chagrined I contemplated dropping M and H a note explaining things. I never did. Instead I thought I would drop by the pharmacy where "H" works in the beauty section and introduce myself.
On Thursday while heading to the grocery store I spotted her Town Car, I parked the Seville ands went inside, quickly finding "H" I said hello. "Can I help you", no sign of recognition on her part. Hi, I own your old 1976 Mark IV, I noticed you looking at it the other month. I am sure you noticed the condition of the paint. I just wanted to assure you she has had the best of care, everything ion the drivetrain had been rebuilt, even a new and very expensive performance rebuild on the 460 V8, custom rims (two sets) specially made coil springs by Eaton Detroit to lower the car three inches all around, stainless duals, I could go on and on. She has even appeared in a magazine article!
Obviously I had mollified her , I could see her relax, yes she replied "I was so upset when I saw her I wanted to set it on fire". Yikes, then she did admit that I had the car for a long time. In fact it would be the equivalent of buying a new Lincoln in 1976 and scrapping it in 1991, my ownership has already exceed the cars natural life span. Not to say Lincolns are badly made rather salty and frost heaved roads make short work of any car in North America.
However, I could still see puzzlement on her face, you are "A's" (my old name) wife ? no I smile, girlfriend then? No I am him, well used to be. I am "A" I mean its April now. I received a stunned deer in headlights look in return. So your his wife? Finally I said I am transsexual and this is who I am now. She got it last, well as long as you're happy.
We talked cars for a few more minutes, then I had to go, say hello to "M" , I am sure you will have lots to talk about over dinner this evening.
As much as I love my new Cadillac Seville, driving the Mark yesterday was exhilarating, the massive torque propelled her onto the highway, the custom built 460 by Agostino Racing enjoying a chance to stretch its legs as we blasted along in the fast lane at 80 MPH plus.
I know I have not written much about the job search yet. The contract work kept me super busy for a while and I still have a new article to write for World Of Wheels.
I had a really great interview last week that lasted for almost two hours, a great job in my field and close by. Fingers crossed but of course I know better than to get my hopes up.
I think I looked good and as to the million dollar question did I pass, a hopeful yes. I met with four male executives in two separate groups. Being careful to maintain eye contact I don't remember noticing any funny looks or probing questions.
I felt very confident (surprised myself) and talked with great passion about manufacturing, the auto industry and marketing. I admit I was very nervous before going in and had to force myself to calm down.
Whatever happens it was good experience.
The photos are not from the interview of course but from a family outing to Niagara Falls to enjoy the unseasonable early spring we seem to be having.
The sacred and the profane, dinosaur mini-golf, ferris wheel (a mini London Eye), the Cadillac Motel and a side trip to the site of the Battle of Lundy's Lane. For good or ill, a different outcome and I would be blogging from the State not Province of Ontario.
The battle was one of the bloodiest of the war of 1812 (before Canada was even a nation). The monument in the old graveyard had an obelisk erected pre-WW2 dedicated to the fallen had a refreshingly un-PC dedication to those that have fallen to preserve the Empire. The union jack was even flying, how wonderfully colonial.
Whatever dark pantheon of gods rule over the automotive world, the one who oversees vintage cars must be the most capricious.
After almost two weeks of hair pulling diagnosis and nearly breaking down into tears over my inability to solve the charging problem on the Seville, a breakthrough was made.
I took the new alternator to Oakville Starter and Alternator to test and it checked out fine. I told the fellow behind the counter the symptoms of my problem. He said loose belt, what do I look like an idiot of course I made sure the belt was tight.
Nope supposed to be very tight so that you can hardly turn the alternator by hand. The Seville 4.1 has a screw type device to pull accessories tight.
Re-installed, tightened and 14 plus volts!!!!!
Idle still a little unstable but mobile again. Drove on the highway with no issues.
Meanwhile having the Seville mobile again let me turn my attention to the ever faithful Lincoln Mark IV, through rain or shine she keeps moving on.
During the fall I had repaired the exhaust manifold gasket on the passenger side taking nearly a month to gradually loosen the cylinder head to manifold bolts with various miracle penetrating oils (PB Blaster is the best). The eight bolts took nearly a month and a half.
Of course the LH bank then started leaking. For most of the winter I drove around sounding like a soviet tank. I mean really how embarrassing!
Nevertheless she still, managed to receive her fair share of attention from the general public.
Treated my youngest to McDonalds for lunch (yes I am a terrible parent) as she had to spend a rather dull day with me while I tried to get work done. At the drive thru the attendant wanted to know what I was driving as she had received a request from someone working in kitchen as to what was that cool car.
When picking up my oldest, a gaggle of eighth grade girls commented, “that’s the coolest car I have ever seen” I assume they had not just escaped from North Korea. I had been feeling rather self conscious about my daily driver so it is always nice to see other appreciate seeing an older vehicle still earning its keep.
Not bad for a vintage model with a RH side manifold leak and peeling paint…. enough about me the Lincoln does manage to get some serious attention despite its cosmetic and aural limitations. So a big thumbs up to Wes Dhalberg, designer of the Mark IV!
Fully expecting more tears and heartbreak when I started the ritual of spraying oil on the LH side manifold bolts. After a brief day of sitting with liberal doses of penetrating oil, I had all the bolts off in less than two hours! By the end of the afternoon the new gasket was installed, even the manifold to exhaust pipe bolts came off without a struggle, amazing. Car is quiet again, well as quiet as a 460 with duals can be.
I guess that I had accumulated enough brownie points in automotive Valhalla struggling with the Seville to be granted a special dispensation on the Lincoln.
Hugs,
April
PS. Here are two cool punk cuts for reading all that car stuff....
This week was March break and children are off from school. "J" and I took the opportunity to visit our old university friends in Coburg.
I always enjoy our visits but the last few have been tinged with sadness as I am constantly reminded that our “happy” family unit will soon be no more. The balance enjoyed between the two couples will be gone, will our visits be separate from now on.
Still there was much laughter and good food. Even a side trip to pick up some fresh maple syrup. A rustic operation on the edge of the forest the air fragrant with the smell of maple candies. I pulled out the camera to capture the scene for this blog and was offered a tour of the facility by one of guys running the still?
Unlike the old bucket and cauldron the sap is collected by an intricate series of gravity fed plastic tubes. He took great pains describing the process and I quickly realized that I would not have had this privilege prior to September 30th when I went full time. Womanhood, it has its privileges.
The plastic lines only natural enemies being bears and squirrels, the later gnaw them the other use them like straws to drink the maple sap.
I bought a bottle of syrup and one mind blowingly sweet maple candy to try. The other gentleman manning the operation remarked to my friend, “she has a sweet tooth doesn’t she?
I had been feeling rather morose and this proof that I was passing made my day.
I dislike modern cars, they are on the whole dull boring and lacking in any sense of style and presence. Mere transportation cubicles for an age of fear and self flagellation. It was the pioneering Harley Earl (first GM styling VP) who said getting into a new car should be like taking a holiday,
Earl “wanted to design a car,” he said, “so that every time you get in it, it’s a relief — you have a little vacation for awhile.”
…..oh how far we have fallen.
There are only three cars in production that I would even consider buying new and making budget crippling payments on. The Corvette (ZR1 pretty please with sugar on it), the Dodge Challenger, the Mustang GT and maybe well OK the Camaro SS. No six cylinder “secretaries models" to use the sexist phrase, V8 high performance versions only. I am often asked what new car I would recommend, these are my answers. Odd since I prefer luxury cars but there has not been a personal luxury car since the Lincoln Mark VIII and Eldorado stopped production.
Having spent the last decade in marketing I appreciate a finely crafted advertisement, one that speaks to the viewer on a visceral level and sparks the desire for the new. The commercial for the 2013 Mustang would make Don Draper proud. The ending is what makes it. Each person viewing the Mustang imagines it their way (clever since Mustangs are one of the most heavily modified new cars).
In the last scene a little girl in a pink tutu sees hers in Barbie pink which is then immediately replaced by a black Shelby model, as the bad ass car cruises up to the corner her image is reflected back. Instead of a pink tutu she is a black swan / angel. A sound track from the Features, How it Starts is the icing on the cake.
I think the Mustang is now top of my list, now that is the power of advertising.
Not a handy thing to dislike when first coming out, safe places, LGBT clubs, TO’s gay village have basically one kind of music…let’s just say that you better know Madonna’s discography pretty well.
Any reader of this blog will realize that rockabilly is a passion and with it all related genres (psychobilly, surf, sixties punk, garage, early country, fifties gospel, seventies punk etc). I mean I can appreciate seventies kitsch (look what I drive) and Boney M’s Rasputin and Abba are guilty pleasures.
But today I will make an exception, Miss Amanda Lear. A purposefully mysterious career that begins in late fifties Paris along with April Ashley, Bambi and Coccinelle…the goddesses of transsexuality. With a little help from Salvador Dali and what I would guess is her own ferocious ambition she became the queen of disco in the seventies and continued a vibrant career in television and the arts to this day.
I have tried to like her earlier music but it never really moved me despite recording a version of Elvis’ Trouble as her first 45. Her new album I Don’t Like Disco has at least three great tracks, La Bete et La Belle, Chinese Walk and the euphonious I Don’t Like Disco. Whomever produced the tracts knew best how to use her unique voice, quite hypnotic, can’t help but want to dance. Even a hint of the Ravonettes in the opening guitar work. Now there is a collaboration I would love to see.
Here is my favourite, oh to be so elegant, aloof and blond:
