Archive for May, 2010

Parked in the basement car park of my condo yesterday and the handyman pointed out that one of my tyres was partially deflated. I think he was hoping I would slip him a few baht to fix it; but I was determined to do it myself. I am a stubborn old bugger who likes to do things for himself when possible; and having a practice tyre change in the relative comfort of a car park would prepare me for the inevitable day when I had to do itmyself when stuck out in the country in the dark in a rainstorm.

There were a few problems to overcome. I assumed there was a spare wheel but I had never seen it; and I assumed there was a set of tools, but ditto. So it was out with the million page owner’s manual which is written in Thai, and the search commenced for clues. From the diagrams in the manual I could see that all Mitsubishi truck owners are considered idiots. There are two pages on how to pick up the ignition key, insert it into the appropriate slot, and detailed instructions on which direction to turn it. No wonder the manual was so thick.

About two thirds of the way through I found a hint to where I might find the tools. Depending on the model, they were either under the back seat, or behind the back seat. I tried pulling both panels but nothing moved. I tried pulling the back of the seat much harder and it partially came away from the cab; but in a way that said “you have just pulled too hard and broken something”, rather than “pull a little harder and tools will be yours”. So I pulled harder on the seat itself instead, and it broke free with a ripping noise that did not speak of a design intention. Further examination revealed that the seat was retained with Velcro, but the staples that held the Velcro to the seat were not a match for the sticking power of Velcro; so now the seat was retained by nothing. But never mind, removal of the seat revealed a little flap under which were the tools of the trade.

The jack was a proper hydraulic model, painted red as all hydraulic jacks should be. Then there was the usual wheel nut remover which never removes wheel nuts because it is too small and the nuts are too tight, Finally there were two lengths of metal, which actually deconstructed into three lengths of metal and then built again into a single long piece which clearly had a role in raising the jack, but also spoke of other, more exotic applications.

So far, so slow. Back to the manual for advice on how to remove the spare wheel which had been found nestling under the rear bodywork. Apparently I had to stick the long piece of metal through a small hole in the back of the truck, then into another hole which I could not see, and then turn the metal rod to make the wheel descend. Looked easy in the diagrams, but reality meant a trip under the car with a torch and much swearing before everything was connected and the wheel sunk to the ground on the end of a chain. Disconnected the chain and slid the wheel out from under the truck. I think it was at this point I buggered my back, although there were plenty of other points in the process where I could have done damage. Suffice it to say I am hurting today.

Next job was to loosen the wheel nuts and, as expected, they were not going to move; even with all of me jumping up and down on the pathetically small wrench. Back to my tool box for sockets and extension and a bloody big hammer.

So all I had to do now was jack up the wheel with my lovely red hydraulic jack. The manual provided several drawings from several angles, all showing the point where I should mount the jack; and none bearing any resemblance to the underside of my truck. So I chose what looked to be the strongest point on the axle and spent several sweaty, dirty minutes manoeuvring the jack into position. But finally, up with the wheel, off with the wheel nuts and then off with the wheel (after a few heavy swipes with the hammer to loosen it). Lifting the spare into position was another back breaker, but finally I had the spare wheel in place and the original wheel in the back of the truck ready to be fixed.

It takes a Grand Prix team 3.5 seconds to change four wheels. It took me more than an hour to change one, and I staggered back into the condo, covered in dirt, dust and sweat. I wondered if she who must be obeyed would like the rough and ready sweaty look. She didn’t.

Obstinate me intended that I would get the puncture repaired and then reverse the process to get the wheels back where they belong (the spare is on a crappy wheel so can only be used as a spare). But this morning we drove to a garage and left the truck with them for twenty minutes while we went for coffee. They fixed the puncture, put the repaired wheel back on the car and the spare wheel back where the spare wheel should go, checked all the pressures and even tidied up my mess of tools which I had left on what remains of the back seat. The cost was 100 baht. A bargain.

There is a fine line between self-reliance and stupidity; and I think I crossed it. Now that I know how to change a truck tyre, I have decided that I never want to do it again.

It’s not often I offer to be nailed to a cross, but such was my desire for a Cadbury’s creme egg that I was prepared to suffer a few nails for a taste.

Enter a saviour in the form of one the more eloquent, acerbic and grammatically correct commenters on this site, genuinej.

He mailed me to tell me he was coming to Thailand and, for a donation of up to 50% of the costs of his flight, he was prepared to smuggle some creme eggs into the Kingdom. Once he had assured me that the smuggling would not include storage in his anal cavity, and a price of around 0.0000002% of his travel costs had been agreed (to be reimbursed in the form of a cup of coffee); we had a deal.

And we met today for the handover. In the flesh, genuinej looks a little like Charlton Heston (during his Ben Hur period, not during his lunatic NRA gun wielding years). He is here on a golfing holiday to work on a handicap which has seen better days but is still probably better than Billy can manage. He is full of stories and it was a pleasure to meet him.

Oh, and he brought eggs:

The plan is to share one with she who must be obeyed this evening, and just hope she doesn’t like the taste.

Thank you genuinej.

For those of you who fancy meeting up, it wouldn’t harm to let you know that I like champagne, Ferraris, Frascati and Cadbury’s Flake. Thank you in anticipation.

Rod is a successful software salesman. We know this because he sits in a shit cubicle and, after offering a 50% discount, he lands a deal worth $1 million. Shortly after, his company is sold to Oracle for billions, meaning his stock options are worth millions. And suddenly he has a start-up company selling solar panels which an investor is prepared to provide with $10 million. Rod has everything going for him; except love.

Enter Natalie. She is an aspiring model who is suddenly called by Victoria’s secret and offered a modelling contract, which means she is now a lingerie model; an ideal potential girlfriend for Rod and his stock options. They hook up and eventually spend the night at a motel.

By this time, we are 45 minutes into a movie directed by James Nguyen. During the week, James is a software salesman, and you can imagine him sitting in his cubicle dreaming of big sales, stock options and a lingerie model girlfriend. And then making a movie about it at the weekend. But this movie is called “Birdemic: Shock and Terror”, and all we have had so far is the totally unbelievable story of Rod and Natalie.

But here it comes. After a night of what appears to have been no sex, Rod awakens fully clothed to find that their motel is under attack from birds. And not just any birds. These birds make noises like dive bombers and explode on impact when they hit the ground.

For no obvious reason, Rod knocks on the door of another motel unit and they meet another couple whose names escape me. The four of them decide to make a dash for a van; but they will need some weapons to fight off the birds. Wire coat hangers are the weapons of choice, until they make it to the van which for some reason is filled with automatic rifles.

There then follows several scenes where birds are shot at by rifles, the no-name couple are killed and a couple of kids are picked up. Their parents have just been pecked to death and they are naturally very upset; until they get in the van and pick up an iPad and then it is all smiles (actually, it was a PlayStation Portable; just wanted to wind up Lloyd) . Some more stuff happens, including nearly being caught in a dramatic forest fire…

…and then they are parked next to a beach. “Hey”, says Rod “there is a fishing line in the back of this van. And a mobile cooker”. How convenient. So Rod catches a fish and everyone else collects seaweed and they are cooking happily when the birds attack again. Oh no! They rush back to the van and cower in the back with a tyre wrench (“hey, there’s a tyre wrench in the back of this van!”). Is it all over? No, because the birds suddenly fly away and that is the end of the movie.

Where to start. The acting is appalling, but then the script is so bad it would be difficult to rise above it. The cinematography is so abysmal, it is too kind to call it cinematography. The opening shot is of the sea, and the horizon is not straight; and it goes downhill from there. The plot is pitiful and full of holes big enough to drop a cinematographer into. And the “special effects”… Oh, the special effects. The birds appear to be animated gifs stuck on the screen. The “Visual Effects/Lead Animator” was an animation student. Judging by the results, he had just been rejected from the first week of the course.

And hanging over the whole enterprise, like a prize winning, steaming turd, is the direction of Nguyen. He gets nothing out of the actors, shots are too long or too short or from the wrong angle. It’s a total mess. You will never see a worse movie.

And yet. And yet. Birdemic is so bad that it is enjoyable. There is not a single dull moment in the whole 90 minutes. That is to say, there is not a single good moment. You are constantly cringing at the awfulness or laughing out loud at just how bad it is. Surely he is not going to…oh, he did!

I have seen many bad movies which I wished I had never bothered watching; but I enjoyed every minute of Birdemic and I urge you to suffer likewise. And you will not be alone. Birdemic is slowly gaining cult status, with even the New York Times giving it a mention.

And coming next year; Birdemic – The Resurrection. In 3D! I can’t wait.