I'll start with the Raves, and you will see that I'm a reasonably content person: There are four raves and only three rants.

Took Mrs. Anthony's car in to have the brakes checked.

She was sure that they were in need of attention, and so I popped down to Les Schwab to see Matt and Doug.

These guys are amazing, and really, the marketing and customer service plan that Schwab teaches their employees should be standard issue for any service oriented business.

Matt gave me a quote over the phone, in less than thirty seconds. But when I got down there and they took the wheels off, Doug called me to say that 'your brakes were fine, what exactly is it that is giving you trouble? I explained that Mrs. A wants the car to stop more quickly and Doug suggested 'siping the tires and changing the brake fluid', which looked a bit yucky.

Amazing. The car does stop more quickly, I saved about a hundred and some bucks and Mrs. A is happy.

Thank you boys, you get a Rave.

If you need anything from ant killer to Z-metal in this town, you can go to a big box store, or you can go to New Lumber and Hardware.

I know I tend to go on about this place, but it comes down to individual service again and when you walk in the door, smiling people will actually help you.

Try that at Home Labyrinth. A Rave and a thanks to Jim, Bill, Jane, Joanie, Joyce, Fred, Darlene, Brad, Mel and even you, Dan.

Edgewood Fireplace Shop is not exactly in Federal Way, but it's the only place nearby that sells woodstoves.

I needed a new one and after a ton of research (the appropriate amount for something as heavy as a woodstove) I ended up coming back to them.

A smart guy named Ken Baker schooled me about his products, patiently answered my dumb questions and gave me a Puyallup fair discount. Should you decide to upgrade your heating appliance, they will also sell you the presto-logs to run your new stove.

They have the best chainsaw carver in the country right there in the parking lot. A must see. Rave, Rave.

My pals, Donnie and Damon (the two D's) came over to help me install that new stove yesterday, and for that they deserve a Rave.

Under any normal circumstance, when you get a phone call from someone that says, "Hey, I need help moving a 500 pound piece of steel up some stairs," it's really OK to say that you're out of town that day. These guys actually showed up, made short work of my task and even brought coffee. I love you two lunks, (sniff).

Rave, Rave, Rave.

Now, on to the Rants.

Is there some unofficial rule written on some city construction documents that say it's a good idea to do construction on all the major east/west arterials at the same time?

Trying to get down 352nd street is tough with so many flaggers, but then when you try to avoid it by taking Weyerhaeuser Way, you get nailed again by the guys doing that bridge retrofit. And it would be OK if they'd ever finish the work, but this has been going on for months. Do you know what has four doors and sleeps six? Answer: A county construction truck. My rating... Rant!

And if you are lucky enough to find some road that is unencumbered by guys in orange vests with Slow/Stop signs, then you will eventually endure kids with boom cars.

I like music, but I don't like your music. Especially if I can hear it from twelve cars away.

What you guys do with your eardrums is your business, but I wish you'd at least turn the volume knob down when you're stuck at a traffic light. My innards will thank you. Rant, Rant.

Lastly, trains and planes are a necessary part of life, and living here in the flight path to SeaTac airport, you become largely used to jets banking over your house. But I thought that when I moved from my place behind Federal Way High that I'd left the worst of it behind. No deal.

I'm pretty sure that somebody painted a big arrow and a sign on my roof that says, "Pilots...turn here."

Those boys really lay into the turn and hit the thruster brakes whenever they see my chimney and I've never gotten used to it.

The only thing that's worse is the guys who run the trains. The Amtrak boys, I swear, get a charge out of hammering the whistle every morning between 3 and 6 a.m., and not just for a moment. They lean on that chain until my windows rattle.

Do they really have to make such a racket? What's that cow catcher for anyway?

Rant, Rant, Rant!

Whew...I feel better now.