Something about time tends to give one a certain measure of good sense. Something else in my DNA says "screw it, get up there and fix it" to which I say "no". It's a big debate gong on in my head, but I just had a red headed roofer come by. Now my brain is going "HE'S BAD LUCK! Send him away!". I will do as Runny says though because he's my guru of gaknowlege.