Don't Rain on Our Parade!

Our visit to Baton Rouge so far hasn't been very exciting in the usual sense.  We haven't toured historic or cultural sites.  We haven't learned new dances.  We haven't hiked, backpacked or even bicycled.

No, we actually haven't done much of the usual stuff yet.

One reason is our fried microwave.  Another is the rainy weather.

Let's start with the weather, because the story is simpler.  Unfortunately, we have finally caught up with winter (or early spring) weather.  Gone are the dry, warm days and the balmy evenings.  While our nights aren't really frigid, and we don't have to worry about freezing water lines, nevertheless we do have to wear long sleeves and pants and add some layers - sometimes rainproof layers.

We've started training for the Broad Street Run in Philly, which will take place May 4.  We're joining son Matt and daughter Katie for an attempted 10-mile run down Broad Street.  For those of you not familiar with Philly, Broad Street forms a north-south axis to the city.  A subway runs the length.  City Hall stands at the center and is also at the center of Market Street's east-west axis.  The Broad Street Run will cover (most of) the length of Broad Street.  We'll park our car in the Sports Complex at the south end, board a subway to the north end, and start running south, hoping to pass City Hall halfway and rejoin our loved ones (including grandpuppies) at the Sports Complex.

Being oldsters, we're starting our training slowly and deliberately.  It's been well over a year since we've run regularly, so we're starting very slow and short.  We ran our first full mile on Sunday.  Today we were back to a half mile and then will work up to 1.2 miles or so this Sunday, increasing incrementally from there.  We probably won't be fully ready for 10 miles by May 4, but we're going to give it our best shot.

Well, over the years we've run in the rain many times, but we've been pretty spoiled the last year or so, rarely encountering rain, let alone cold weather.  Imagine our surprise when we awoke to the following scene as we ran today's route:

It made us think of the rainy springs in Philly, and it dawned on us that this is what we could face on the Broad Street Run.  We hoped not, and we thought, "Don't rain on our parade!"

Now, let's turn to the unfortunate story of the fried microwave.  Ardent fans will remember that we encountered the CAMPGROUND FROM HELL when we pulled into Fort Stockton earlier this month in subfreezing weather.  First bad news:  no campground water.  Second bad news:  They sell propane (which we plow through when we heat the rig in the cold weather), but they were out.  Third bad news:  They gave our site to someone else.  We changed sites, which gave rise to the fourth piece of bad news:  The 50 amp socket was defective, which resulted in dramatically low voltage that, because our microwave is plugged in and always on, immediately fried our microwave's circuit board as that low rumbling current coursed through the rig's veins like a fast-acting poison.

GE doesn't provide repair service in Fort Stockton, nor did it in our subsequent stop outside Austin (believe it or not), but could in Baton Rouge; so we scheduled a repair visit for yesterday, the day immediately after we arrived.

Faithful as a postal delivery person, Jasper the repairman showed up yesterday, but told us he couldn't do anything because we had to first uninstall the microwave from under the cabinets and set it out on the counter like a body etherized upon a table, ready for the surgeon to ply his steel. Thus, no service.

Luckily, we thought and acted quickly.  After some effort (detailed below), we wrestled the microwave out of its awkward nest and onto the stovetop counter:

We quickly jumped back online and were able to "reschedule" our original repair appointment before the repairman could note that it had been completed.  This gave us a new appointment this morning.  One piece of good fortune.

Another repairman, Bill, showed up this morning bright and early and promptly went about diagnosing the problem.  Sure enough, it wasn't just a blown fuse, or some other problem.  The whole circuit board had fried.  Cost to replace the circuit board?  $497 cool hard dollars.  Cost to buy a new microwave?  $549.  When you consider that we could get a new microwave much faster than a new circuit board, this made the decision.  Bill left clutching his $89 service call fee, and we clutched our laptops and phones as we searched for a new microwave.

Kathy did find one at Home Depot, but it had to be ordered for delivery Saturday, so the whole saga will not be over at least until then.  However, we've had plenty to entertain us in the meantime.  As we took down the old microwave, we discovered that, in order to mount it, the RV manufacturer had to jerry-rig a crossbar over the microwave and then bolt a bracket to the microwave that could, in turn, be screwed into the crossbar.  Reason?  There obviously was nothing accessible that was strong enough to hang the microwave from.  Surely the manufacturer could simply have built a shelf and installed a regular microwave?  But, no, the RV guys thought a hanging microwave over the stove would sell more RV's, so we got something pretty amateurish as a result:

A little thought from an engineering standpoint alerted us to the likelihood that the microwave may have been suspended more from wishful thinking than from anything structural.  Indeed, a closer inspection verified that this was true.  The crossbar in the photo above is attached to some mysterious material above by 4 long screws.  Of the four screws, the two on the far end had long since ceased holding into the "support" material above.  So, we realized, for some unknown time, our microwave has slowly been shaking itself loose from its roof support as we rumbled down the road.  Who knows how soon we might have opened our rig up after a day's drive to witness a micro-disaster on the stovetop.

David found that two of the screws still seem to be holding well, so he doubled the number of screws, and we now have EIGHT screws holding the crossbar up onto the mysterious wishful-thinking-support-material.  We dallied with the idea of adding a strap to share some of the weight to some support beams alongside the microwave.  While we might do that in the future, for now it appears our extra screws are sufficient to keep us from getting screwed - so we'll give this a try.

As for the old microwave?

It's as useless to us as the contents of the litter box, so we put it out on our picnic table, waiting to be picked up by the Home Depot deliverymen on Saturday when they drop off the new microwave:

We are hoping we won't encounter any more foibles with the expected Saturday delivery of the new microwave.  Or its installation (it's a newer model).  Or with it remaining supported by the mysterious material above that hanging crossbar.  Our sincerest thought:  "Don't rain on our parade!"

Which brings up the third chapter of this story.

Baton Rouge is in the middle of its Mardi Gras celebration, and our hearts are set on another fabulous parade!  When we arrived, we found that there will be two great parades - one Friday night and one Saturday.  We checked the weather forecast:  rain Friday night; clear Saturday.  Great, no problem, we're going to the Saturday parade.

Fast forward to today.  Wait.  Saturday.  Isn't that the day our new microwave is being delivered? Okay, then I guess we'll have to go to the Friday night parade.  But wait.  It's forecast to rain.  Which brings us to our old refrain:

"Don't rain on our parade!"