Remember when we were kids, and we’d play games out in the street or in someone’s backyard, and we’d call a do-over? Somebody’d kick the ball into a bush, or a car would come down the road right in the middle of an important play, and it was universally understood that things would just rewind a couple of minutes and start again, like erasing a videotape. Well, I’d like a do-over for most of yesterday, please.

It started out on an upbeat note; Mr. Scout brought over the window regulator for the Jeep and we tore the door down to put it in; unfortunately, the part was not a match to the one in my Jeep, and there seemed to be no way to use parts from the replacement to fix the broken unit.

We then decided to take advantage of the weather and go back to the pick & pull yard to hunt more Jeeps. It seems that parts (and part vehicles) are more plentiful for Grand Cherokees than for the regular model, both online and in the junkyard, and my particular model (2-door, second generation, power window) is even rarer than the 4-door. We did however find a junked PT Cruiser, which featured luxurious bucket seats that are supposed to be bolt-in replacements for Scout seats. Eight bolts later, we were walking up to the pay area with the seats on our heads, but not before making a detour to a section of the yard we hadn’t seen before, featuring some ancient Detroit iron: a three-porthole Buick, a rounded early 50’s Ford, and a pair of Opels, among other things. I shot about ten pictures, and we were on our way. As we got up to the counter, the redneck in charge of shoplifting told me they have a strict no-camera policy, and made me erase my memory card after giving me some bullshit about smashing lenses.

Returning to the Scout we’d found last week, we pulled a lot of plastic and other rare parts, having no luck pulling the hubs or the seat bases. It was about this time I checked my phone and found this lovely sight:

I don’t know when or how it happened, but it was enough to ruin my day right there. Strangely, I can still call in and out, and the touchscreen still works on the damaged areas. I’m going to visit the Apple store to see if there’s some kind of repair they can make; if not, it looks like I’ll be purchasing a 3G iPhone earlier than I planned.

My afternoon was spent working on an illustration; I decided to experiment with an idea I’d had a few months ago to see what results I’d get, using the negative space instead of the positive. The results were a lot less than I’d hoped for.

The linework looks cheaper, like a quick marker drawing, and not expressive like I’d imagined. It also could be because I’ve been having problems getting my cutting nibs to vary line weights properly—they seem to get dull very quickly, which is not what I’m used to. If I could regulate line weight better, I’d be happier with the results.

I took the same sketch and started making a traditional cut, and about three-quarters of the way through I realized the initial sketch, while reasonably good, did not capture McCain the way it should, and the resulting piece looks like someone else (Jen says it’s Ed McMahon). His head is not as long as I’d made it here, and his distinguishing features aren’t represented well enough.

There were several highlights from yesterday, so it’s not like I was constantly followed by a black stormcloud: we have Andersen 400-series windows officially on order for the front porch. Jen had a great client meeting on a new project, and we got our second delivery from the organic farm (I don’t know how we’re going to eat all this lettuce, chard, and spinach). I was just hoping to produce a success of my own, something I’m sure everyone can understand.

So it’s back to the drawing board for Jeep, phone, and scratchboard.

Update: One trip to the Apple Store, my choices were thus:

1. Continue to use the busted phone and guess at everything on the left side of the screen.

2. Wait until July and buy a new 3G iPhone for $200, but take an additional $10/mo. hit on my data plan.

3. Spend $250 to replace my iPhone with another 1st gen model.

I chose 3, because I’d love to have the 3G but I don’t want to pay AT&T an additional $120/mo. for features I may not even use. As it was, when the Genius rang me out, he told me happily they’d just reduced the replacement cost from $250 to $199, so I “saved” a little more money.

Upon inspection of the iPhone cases available at the store, only a select few might have protected my phone from catastrophic screen damage, and they tended to be the ugliest offerings on the shelf. (Imitation calfskin? stitched black leather? I don’t think so).