By Bob Kaku –
The dramatic ocean vista blended with the cerulean sky when we arrived in Malibu, a popular coastal town lined with inviting shops and trendy restaurants. My wife, Gail had decided on the spur of the moment to take her mom, Nana, out to dinner for her birthday on a bustling Labor Day week¬end. Four of us, including Gail’s dad, Mas, arrived in town late Saturday after¬noon.
By Bob Kaku
During my bachelor days, I zipped around in a spiffy sports car that had a powerful engine, sleek lines, and cool-looking retractable, pop-up headlights. One day a head¬light bulb burned out, so I bought a replacement. I removed the old one and placed the new bulb inside the headlight housing. Before securing the bulb, I flipped the switch to test it. The headlight flipped down into the well, and I heard a clunk.
By Bob Kaku
Under crystalline blue skies, my wife, Gail, and I basked in the tranquility of St. John, US Virgin Islands. The warm, azure waters washed our feet as we waded through the gentle waves. The unhurried pace and friendly banter with the locals were a welcomed respite from our hectic California lives.
We drank in the spectacular vistas of Cruz Bay and the Caribbean from the veranda of our rented condo perched atop a steep hill. The balmy onshore breeze and melodic cadence of steel drums wafted in, making our stress float away. What a relaxing spot! Everything was perfect until . . .
One evening, we strolled down to the swimming pool, the perfect vantage point to view the glistening harbor lights on one side and the shimmering moonlit sea on the other. Periodic boat horns droned in the distance. After we sauntered back to our unit, I fished through my belt pouch and pockets for the key, but I couldn’t find it. All week I had used extreme caution putting the key back into my pouch. I peered through the kitchen window and saw the key sitting on the counter. “Oh, no! There’s no night manager. How will we get in?”
By Bob Kaku
Two years after we moved into our newly constructed home, we noticed hairline cracks forming in the tiles of our master bathroom—all over the floor, shower walls, bath skirt, and even on top of the vanity counter. It looked like someone took a piece of chalk and drew lines on the tiles. The longest crack measured four feet and ran across multiple tiles. Where did these cracks come from?
“Lord, help! What’s happening to our bathroom?” my wife, Gail wailed.
I called the builder, and he came over to examine the problem. He squatted down toward the bath skirt and ran his finger over the crevices. “I think the problem is in the marble,” he said with a puzzled expression. “I’ll get back to you.” But we never heard back from him.
“It looks like we’re stuck since we didn’t extend the home warranty,” Gail lamented. “Who would have ever thought a new house would have such problems!”
By Bob Kaku
With a glint in her eyes, Gail smiled. “The contractors did a great job!” At last, our two bathrooms were magically transformed into new ones. Bright ivory-colored tiles with a marble design snugly enclosed a new tub in one bathroom with a new floor. A new shower with a frameless glass door enhanced the aesthetics of the other bathroom, making it appear larger.
We selected some attractive chrome and gold-trim towel racks with matching toilet paper dispensers to accent the newly textured and painted walls.
I gathered my electric drill, ruler, level, and other tools from the garage to attach the decorative accessories. After carefully measuring the length of the first towel rack, I drilled the holes and installed the side brackets. Mingled scents of fresh paint and drywall dust permeated the area. When I tried to insert the towel bar, it didn’t fit. Hmm—the side brackets are too close. I angled and maneuvered the bar in vain.