Another day another blog
Well, where do I Begin? It's Saturday night, I worked on algebra homework late into Friday evening and began blogging on Saturday morning. I can't really think of any good stories this moment. So I guess I'll just ramble off at the chops and see what happens. I truly am rambling because I'm using a voice microphone again. It actually seems harder to use a microphone to make a blog than would be just to get out a pencil and paper. Ah but, were not allow to use a pencil and paper, we have to type it all and put it on a blog; that's quite a burden it sometimes. For some reason I seem to have run out of stories to talk about; I guess I just don't want to share everything about myself. I'm writing a blog when I know I should be working on homework. I'd really rather be working on Catia; Catia is a computer automated drafting program that engineers use to design airplanes, bridges, cars. I'm using Catia to draw an acoustic guitar, the guitar neck has proved to be quite a challenge; even for my instructor. It's the complex surfaces that meld one into the other that are most challenging to draw; but in the end the satisfaction makes it all worth it. I also need to get caught up on many of my chemistry assignments that I put on the back burner while writing blogs; it shows in my test scores. I was enjoying blogs; but now they really starting to get tiring.
I just went for a walk to try to clear my head and get a new start on this blog. The air was cool and brisk and the evening sky was a dark steel blue, except for the glow the full moon, off in the distance. I heard the sound of geese making their way across the sky and dogs were barking their discontent as I walked by. It was a brief walk but it felt good to get away from this blog for a few minutes. It was just a couple blocks, a quick jaunt to get some fresh air and get the blood moving again. Now back in the saddle, so to speak and I’m still running short of ideas on what to write this blog about. I never get writers block but this one is really getting to me, I guess I just have a lot of the things on my mind and sitting in front of a computer isn't the way I want to pass my Saturday evening when i have a Catia final on Monday. Just think, if I get this over with I can move on to other things that I like much more, not only that I have about 50 words left; normally I could do that in my sleep, maybe I'll do just that; I'll be the one and only sleep writing blogger. Stay at it I keep telling myself, it's only few more words and then you can go do other things. So what else is there to do, everything!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Dreams Whatever
Dreams whatever
I guess you could say my title was chosen for itself. Let's see where it takes me this takes me, this is going to be a free writing exercise to the max. I'm not really sure what I'll talk about it. I’ll just start talking since I’m using Dragon NaturallySpeaking. I want to see if it really is faster than typing by hand, I guess it doesn't like my voice because it sure makes mistakes. I can't have everything. It's moving along pretty well though 82 words in five or 10 minutes, no complaints. I wish I could type this fast then I guess it wouldn't be too worried about 500 words for a blog every single day. The crazy part is I found out that Microsoft Vista has the same software built-in so I need to share with that with other people. I was typing along when all of a sudden it decided to change from Times New Roman to Calibri; that made me very happy so I let out a few choice words and it tried to keep up, that was rather comical. This software definitely has a learning curve, and it can try your patience, but at the same time I considered it fun and functional but not if you’re trying to get something done on a time budget. The title itself was a mistake when it misunderstood what I was trying to say so it gave me, Dreams Whatever, so I decided to just let it go and see where it landed. It's been kind of fun in a way watching the misinterpretations of my speech, I read this software had a very high success rate, I'm not sure I believe it. It's got a very long hard road ahead if it keeps screwing up like this. The microphone is so sensitive that it even picks up the keyboard when you're typing and then begins slapping words in willy-nilly here and there as it sees fit. Sometimes it's funny but, it will keep you hopping running spell check and going back and clearing out its mistakes. Just think if I get the hang of this a 500 word blog will be done in just a matter of minutes. I was so busy doing this whole blog thing I missed some of my favorite woodworking shows on TV, oh well, that's the way it goes sometimes. I guess it's going to teach me to talk more clearly because when I talk very clearly and precisely it seems to work fine, so now I don't have anyone else to blame but myself. This is been rather fun and I'm running out of words to finish up this blog. You might even say it's been a little bit too easy. I still haven't found out what the title “dreams whatever” means; I guess that's the software taking over. In a way it has been a dream of mine to buy the software and sit here and freely do my homework. I should've set the timer before I started to write this blog. It's been easy it's been fun and it's been mistake prone.
I guess you could say my title was chosen for itself. Let's see where it takes me this takes me, this is going to be a free writing exercise to the max. I'm not really sure what I'll talk about it. I’ll just start talking since I’m using Dragon NaturallySpeaking. I want to see if it really is faster than typing by hand, I guess it doesn't like my voice because it sure makes mistakes. I can't have everything. It's moving along pretty well though 82 words in five or 10 minutes, no complaints. I wish I could type this fast then I guess it wouldn't be too worried about 500 words for a blog every single day. The crazy part is I found out that Microsoft Vista has the same software built-in so I need to share with that with other people. I was typing along when all of a sudden it decided to change from Times New Roman to Calibri; that made me very happy so I let out a few choice words and it tried to keep up, that was rather comical. This software definitely has a learning curve, and it can try your patience, but at the same time I considered it fun and functional but not if you’re trying to get something done on a time budget. The title itself was a mistake when it misunderstood what I was trying to say so it gave me, Dreams Whatever, so I decided to just let it go and see where it landed. It's been kind of fun in a way watching the misinterpretations of my speech, I read this software had a very high success rate, I'm not sure I believe it. It's got a very long hard road ahead if it keeps screwing up like this. The microphone is so sensitive that it even picks up the keyboard when you're typing and then begins slapping words in willy-nilly here and there as it sees fit. Sometimes it's funny but, it will keep you hopping running spell check and going back and clearing out its mistakes. Just think if I get the hang of this a 500 word blog will be done in just a matter of minutes. I was so busy doing this whole blog thing I missed some of my favorite woodworking shows on TV, oh well, that's the way it goes sometimes. I guess it's going to teach me to talk more clearly because when I talk very clearly and precisely it seems to work fine, so now I don't have anyone else to blame but myself. This is been rather fun and I'm running out of words to finish up this blog. You might even say it's been a little bit too easy. I still haven't found out what the title “dreams whatever” means; I guess that's the software taking over. In a way it has been a dream of mine to buy the software and sit here and freely do my homework. I should've set the timer before I started to write this blog. It's been easy it's been fun and it's been mistake prone.
Commencement once again
Commencement once again
I don't know where to begin; trying to go back and modify the original commencement will is the most challenging of all the blogs so far. Trying to find a way to rewrite the commencement has been troubling me for days I put a lot of thought into it the first time. Now, I don't seem to have any ideas on what I would do differently, I looked a lot of things I wish I had done differently throughout my life. I stopped and looked my life and realized many things I had not accomplished and why that was the case.
It took me getting away from home to realize where I wanted to go in my life. I set a new course I decided to try new things and I never looked back. I began to make new plans for ways I could improve my life by focusing on the little things. After all, it's the little things that make all the difference, and those add up to the major changes; if I knew then what I know now I would have stayed in school. Although I tried very hard to succeed the cards were stacked against me; I had to fend for myself each and every day just to make it through. I dropped out of school twice before completing the 12th grade. I joined the military to turn my life around. I quickly realized that I had to take care of myself because no one was there to look after me; it wasn't always easy but I made the best of it when I could. I spent a great deal time analyzing my life and the things I had done wrong; looking for ways to improve. I always tried to mentor others and teach them from my mistakes the things I learned along the way. It's this reflection that I was able to use to write my commencement speech. Even to this day, I ask how can I improve on some of the things I've done; I lead my life striving for continuous improvement. The military is taught me a great deal but I still have a great deal more to learn. I go through life with my eyes open continuously looking for a better way to do (even the small) things. I often ask myself how can I do things better or more efficiently. I constantly evaluate my processes and often find new ways to do things that I've done for years and years. I never feel there is one single right way to accomplish something because if you begin to feel this way you're unable to see possible improvement. I've designed and built hundreds of shadow boxes during the last decade, but I still find new ways to improve the design (aesthetics), functionality, or both. It's this continuous improvement that drives me; it fulfills my life. It's been a long road and as I look back I see many things that I like to have done differently it is those things I often pass on to others.
I don't know where to begin; trying to go back and modify the original commencement will is the most challenging of all the blogs so far. Trying to find a way to rewrite the commencement has been troubling me for days I put a lot of thought into it the first time. Now, I don't seem to have any ideas on what I would do differently, I looked a lot of things I wish I had done differently throughout my life. I stopped and looked my life and realized many things I had not accomplished and why that was the case.
It took me getting away from home to realize where I wanted to go in my life. I set a new course I decided to try new things and I never looked back. I began to make new plans for ways I could improve my life by focusing on the little things. After all, it's the little things that make all the difference, and those add up to the major changes; if I knew then what I know now I would have stayed in school. Although I tried very hard to succeed the cards were stacked against me; I had to fend for myself each and every day just to make it through. I dropped out of school twice before completing the 12th grade. I joined the military to turn my life around. I quickly realized that I had to take care of myself because no one was there to look after me; it wasn't always easy but I made the best of it when I could. I spent a great deal time analyzing my life and the things I had done wrong; looking for ways to improve. I always tried to mentor others and teach them from my mistakes the things I learned along the way. It's this reflection that I was able to use to write my commencement speech. Even to this day, I ask how can I improve on some of the things I've done; I lead my life striving for continuous improvement. The military is taught me a great deal but I still have a great deal more to learn. I go through life with my eyes open continuously looking for a better way to do (even the small) things. I often ask myself how can I do things better or more efficiently. I constantly evaluate my processes and often find new ways to do things that I've done for years and years. I never feel there is one single right way to accomplish something because if you begin to feel this way you're unable to see possible improvement. I've designed and built hundreds of shadow boxes during the last decade, but I still find new ways to improve the design (aesthetics), functionality, or both. It's this continuous improvement that drives me; it fulfills my life. It's been a long road and as I look back I see many things that I like to have done differently it is those things I often pass on to others.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Woodworking
Woodworking
It may come as surprise to some that not woodworking is done the way your father did it! In fact it there are two main woodworking cultures (that I’m aware of ); the one you are most familiar is call the western style it uses western style tools and the other is Asian most closely associated with the Japanese however most Asian countries follow this school of craftsmanship. The primary difference “seems” to have evolved from cultural tradition where as they do not use chairs for activities such as eating. They perform their woodworking tasks in a similar manner, using a minimalist approach. Their work bench is very low, approximately 12-14 inches high, it’s formed with two interlocking support blocks and beam; a trestle. They have some of the most ingenious methods of holding and supporting materials that are being worked; often it includes the nothing more than the use of the body in what may seem as first blush to be peculiar, but in effect, very efficient. Traditionally they work with a type of split toe moccasin that allows them to grasp items with their feet – a process that is never seen in Western Shops. They fabricate clamping devices with nothing more than jute and a small block of wood, in action; the wooded block has two holes bored through it to which the rope is threaded and through a similar arrangement on their work bench, the item to be worked is set beneath the loop of rope and foot pressure on the stick of wood becomes a superior clamp – the body quickly adjusts the clamping pressure or releases it for repositioning the work piece – a truly fantastic device! It can be made in minutes with minimal experience and adjust to any shape and needs no explanation on it function. Another truly fascination aspect of Japanese woodworking are the tools; quite unlike their western counterparts they are pulled, yes, a pull-saw, and pull operated plane. Why have pull saws become so popular among Westerners? Simple, they work better. Let me explain; the Japanese pull-saw is also known as a Razor Saw because of its razor thin blade. The thin blade cuts cleanly and precisely through with great speed and accuracy, a thin blade offer much less resistance an pull stroke follows a line easier because as the blade is being pulled similar to pulling a rope the blade is drawn taut (therefore straight), whereas a western saw is pushed and blade encounters resistance the blade tends to bend under the load and will veer off course. Pull saw have and addition advantage the thin blade is sharpened to with a different (sharper) tooth geometry, that can only be accomplished with a thin blade. Wood cut with a pull stroke is set on the bench where gravity acts as a clamp, what could be simpler and more efficient- no clamps needed; they simply pull the saw blade down and force the work against the bench! A pull plane works much the same way – it is set on a sloped beam with a stop block at the lower end, the work is rested against the block and gravity does the rest.
Traditional Japanese woodworkers create some of the finest joinery the world has ever known - my hat is off to them.
It may come as surprise to some that not woodworking is done the way your father did it! In fact it there are two main woodworking cultures (that I’m aware of ); the one you are most familiar is call the western style it uses western style tools and the other is Asian most closely associated with the Japanese however most Asian countries follow this school of craftsmanship. The primary difference “seems” to have evolved from cultural tradition where as they do not use chairs for activities such as eating. They perform their woodworking tasks in a similar manner, using a minimalist approach. Their work bench is very low, approximately 12-14 inches high, it’s formed with two interlocking support blocks and beam; a trestle. They have some of the most ingenious methods of holding and supporting materials that are being worked; often it includes the nothing more than the use of the body in what may seem as first blush to be peculiar, but in effect, very efficient. Traditionally they work with a type of split toe moccasin that allows them to grasp items with their feet – a process that is never seen in Western Shops. They fabricate clamping devices with nothing more than jute and a small block of wood, in action; the wooded block has two holes bored through it to which the rope is threaded and through a similar arrangement on their work bench, the item to be worked is set beneath the loop of rope and foot pressure on the stick of wood becomes a superior clamp – the body quickly adjusts the clamping pressure or releases it for repositioning the work piece – a truly fantastic device! It can be made in minutes with minimal experience and adjust to any shape and needs no explanation on it function. Another truly fascination aspect of Japanese woodworking are the tools; quite unlike their western counterparts they are pulled, yes, a pull-saw, and pull operated plane. Why have pull saws become so popular among Westerners? Simple, they work better. Let me explain; the Japanese pull-saw is also known as a Razor Saw because of its razor thin blade. The thin blade cuts cleanly and precisely through with great speed and accuracy, a thin blade offer much less resistance an pull stroke follows a line easier because as the blade is being pulled similar to pulling a rope the blade is drawn taut (therefore straight), whereas a western saw is pushed and blade encounters resistance the blade tends to bend under the load and will veer off course. Pull saw have and addition advantage the thin blade is sharpened to with a different (sharper) tooth geometry, that can only be accomplished with a thin blade. Wood cut with a pull stroke is set on the bench where gravity acts as a clamp, what could be simpler and more efficient- no clamps needed; they simply pull the saw blade down and force the work against the bench! A pull plane works much the same way – it is set on a sloped beam with a stop block at the lower end, the work is rested against the block and gravity does the rest.
Traditional Japanese woodworkers create some of the finest joinery the world has ever known - my hat is off to them.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Let the Commencement Begin
Let the Commencement Begin
High School, that’s quite a stretch for me and besides I never graduated I joined the military and snagged a GED will on delayed enlistment. But I think I learned a thing or two along the way. First off you never know what path in life is your so don’t burn your bridges – in case you need to beat a hasty retreat for an unwelcome career decision. Strive to be your very best – you’ll be amazed how far that will propel you. Don’t say I can’t until you’ve tried every option and then try it again after you’ve let it sit for a while, suddenly, it will become easier. My father worked as a radio and television repairman when I was young and he tells an amazing story; one day all the easy/fun jobs were completed so he had to grab a hold of a basket case a give a whirl. This particular radio was a twisted wreck – it was built when radio’s had a metal chassis, it looked like it had gone through a washing machine on the spin cycle. It belonged to farmer who played music for his cows – for better milking performance. The aesthetics weren’t important- he just wanted it to play, so my father painstakingly unraveled the carnage that was one a radio and got it into something recognizable and it would sit still long enough for him to be able to troubleshoot it. As he powered it to find the source of friction – it began to play and play it did when the boss came in – he (my father) was working on another problem child radio. The boss said, “what did you do to that radio?” Here’s his secret and mine; fix what you know is wrong first, start with the easiest things first and soon the insurmountable problems will be whittled down to a more manageable level. Of that can be as simple as cleaning up a mess and letting the rest take care of itself. Once he untwisted the radio it began to “sing and dance” because it was no longer shorted to ground on the metal Chassis. I have used this advice countless times throughout my life on all kinds of problems no just mechanicals ones, financial situations are just one example, fix the easiest and there’ll be more money for the challenging problems later.
Take a bull by the horns – attack a problem headlong – don’t wait for it to come looking for you. Honesty is the best medicine it cures many ills (brought on by stress). When you face up to life’s problems you head them off at the pass instead of waiting for them to build up a full head of steam.
Life is a Buffet try a little of everything; you’d be surprised you may like – that certainly does include food. When I was young I ate a very limited diet – I never ate kiwi, burritos, Chinese food and many other things that are often a staple of my diet. The same can be said for my activities – I was hesitant to read books or write letters; oh the things I was missing out on. Get out the do it, all of it create a bucket list without the thought of kicking the bucket. Life is too short for solitude.
High School, that’s quite a stretch for me and besides I never graduated I joined the military and snagged a GED will on delayed enlistment. But I think I learned a thing or two along the way. First off you never know what path in life is your so don’t burn your bridges – in case you need to beat a hasty retreat for an unwelcome career decision. Strive to be your very best – you’ll be amazed how far that will propel you. Don’t say I can’t until you’ve tried every option and then try it again after you’ve let it sit for a while, suddenly, it will become easier. My father worked as a radio and television repairman when I was young and he tells an amazing story; one day all the easy/fun jobs were completed so he had to grab a hold of a basket case a give a whirl. This particular radio was a twisted wreck – it was built when radio’s had a metal chassis, it looked like it had gone through a washing machine on the spin cycle. It belonged to farmer who played music for his cows – for better milking performance. The aesthetics weren’t important- he just wanted it to play, so my father painstakingly unraveled the carnage that was one a radio and got it into something recognizable and it would sit still long enough for him to be able to troubleshoot it. As he powered it to find the source of friction – it began to play and play it did when the boss came in – he (my father) was working on another problem child radio. The boss said, “what did you do to that radio?” Here’s his secret and mine; fix what you know is wrong first, start with the easiest things first and soon the insurmountable problems will be whittled down to a more manageable level. Of that can be as simple as cleaning up a mess and letting the rest take care of itself. Once he untwisted the radio it began to “sing and dance” because it was no longer shorted to ground on the metal Chassis. I have used this advice countless times throughout my life on all kinds of problems no just mechanicals ones, financial situations are just one example, fix the easiest and there’ll be more money for the challenging problems later.
Take a bull by the horns – attack a problem headlong – don’t wait for it to come looking for you. Honesty is the best medicine it cures many ills (brought on by stress). When you face up to life’s problems you head them off at the pass instead of waiting for them to build up a full head of steam.
Life is a Buffet try a little of everything; you’d be surprised you may like – that certainly does include food. When I was young I ate a very limited diet – I never ate kiwi, burritos, Chinese food and many other things that are often a staple of my diet. The same can be said for my activities – I was hesitant to read books or write letters; oh the things I was missing out on. Get out the do it, all of it create a bucket list without the thought of kicking the bucket. Life is too short for solitude.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
I just realized
I just realized I’m one assignment behind so I decided to free write and see where the road takes me, so hang if you along for the ride. I usually to try to craft a story or at least retell one. But not tonight- this will be a blog. I’m talking with my brother who having transmission problems – that’s the next best thing to marital problems – his wife is ready to choke him. She thinks the car is on its last legs and she wants him to raise his concern level- in other words fix it. He’s in the wait and see camp, he’s unwilling to jump up and spend a fortune on what could be clogged filter or dirty transmission fluid; but he’s not like me- he wants someone else to change the fluid. He tried putting transmission additive in the beast but it still sounds like a love sick cow.
I finally got my laptop to connect to the internet – I don’t what I did to aggravate my computer but it got even with me, it was giving me fits, I gave up several times. I was ready to upgrade to Windows 7 just to fix it. But I did my usual I waited until felt in the mood to handle the frustration and gave it another try – I needed to access the internet to get the answers so I jumped on the other computer and wormed my way through several frustrating web pages until I smartened up and went to Dell’s web site and accessed the original drivers. I downloaded the drivers to a jump drive popped it into the laptop and within minutes the first driver update fixed a problem that had haunted me for a couple months. I updated the rest of the drivers at the same time; just for good measure. Now I can sit in my recliner and write my Blogs – which I like.
The conversation changed to Cable TV, I don’t own cable – I hate infomercials and refuse to pay for that abuse. I installed a high quality antenna that brings in High Definition Television without paying a dime to anyone – I mostly watch PBS, woodworking shows and some cooking shows so I’m perfectly happy without a cable bill. My brother keeps changing the subject – now it’s the Olympics and women’s hockey – he likes the Chinese women’s team. Then he jumps on the sport of Curling –I can’t stand curling and he knows it so he pushes my buttons, telling me how much action there is – I ‘m smirking – it’s all I can do to keep from laughing out loud. Boring is putting it polite – it’s just plain lame – who the hell would chase a rock with a broom to begin with. How can someone invent something so …. I leave out my choice of expletives. I wouldn’t watch Curling if I was chained down. Don’t get any ideas – it remains me of the when the Army played rock music outside a Church in South American to drive a fugitive government official from his protected solitude. I think it was Manuel Noriega.
This certainly wasn’t my best piece of work – but it’s a blog in the truest sense of the word.
I finally got my laptop to connect to the internet – I don’t what I did to aggravate my computer but it got even with me, it was giving me fits, I gave up several times. I was ready to upgrade to Windows 7 just to fix it. But I did my usual I waited until felt in the mood to handle the frustration and gave it another try – I needed to access the internet to get the answers so I jumped on the other computer and wormed my way through several frustrating web pages until I smartened up and went to Dell’s web site and accessed the original drivers. I downloaded the drivers to a jump drive popped it into the laptop and within minutes the first driver update fixed a problem that had haunted me for a couple months. I updated the rest of the drivers at the same time; just for good measure. Now I can sit in my recliner and write my Blogs – which I like.
The conversation changed to Cable TV, I don’t own cable – I hate infomercials and refuse to pay for that abuse. I installed a high quality antenna that brings in High Definition Television without paying a dime to anyone – I mostly watch PBS, woodworking shows and some cooking shows so I’m perfectly happy without a cable bill. My brother keeps changing the subject – now it’s the Olympics and women’s hockey – he likes the Chinese women’s team. Then he jumps on the sport of Curling –I can’t stand curling and he knows it so he pushes my buttons, telling me how much action there is – I ‘m smirking – it’s all I can do to keep from laughing out loud. Boring is putting it polite – it’s just plain lame – who the hell would chase a rock with a broom to begin with. How can someone invent something so …. I leave out my choice of expletives. I wouldn’t watch Curling if I was chained down. Don’t get any ideas – it remains me of the when the Army played rock music outside a Church in South American to drive a fugitive government official from his protected solitude. I think it was Manuel Noriega.
This certainly wasn’t my best piece of work – but it’s a blog in the truest sense of the word.
Niagara Falls
Niagara Falls
I was born and raised in Niagara Falls, often when I mention this fact someone will say I’ve been to Niagara Falls. So what’s the allure of this Natural wonder? I lived within few blocks of the cataracts when I was young; I’ve seen firsthand the powerful attraction this rushing water can have on people. There are often weddings held using it’s majesty as their backdrop. People from throughout the world find its Eden. Its sheer immensity is breathtaking to behold, but there is more than that; it’s indefinable but at the same time it engulfs you with its omnipresent sights, sounds; you feel the tremendous rush of water transmitted through your body much like soothing gentle the motion of a train hurdling down the tracks; you can even feel cooling mist welling up as step close to water’s edge and peer down in into basin below. As your eyes drill down you are reminded to hold on tight by your conscious mind while you subconscious is swept away free from its earthly bonds and traveling along on the water like a child on toboggan in the fresh laid snowy blanket. Your mind tries to fight the urge, but it’s no use you are under its spell, you’ve been brainwashed by it soothing come hither call. After gazing for a while you regain your composure and decide to stroll casually along rough carved edges of the mighty Niagara River that gives this falls its ferocious roar. You watch as endless amounts of water continue pass you as if late for something very important, and all the while still more water comes and goes, is there no end in sight?! No there isn’t, if history is to believed, not for millions of years. So you move forward to allow others to partake of its show of resilience. You cross the small bridge in front of you and your step foot onto Goat Island; you ponder, “How could goats have gotten on this island in the first place. Is it possible that they could fort the river? Not likely your surmise, If I can’t swim across a goat certainly could not, perhaps it’s myth. The story is: some brave soul put them (goats) on the island by boat and they thrived. Let’s enjoy the unspoiled beauty of the small uninhabited island. There are small trails that lead directly to the water’s edge; after all Goat Island is a median in the Niagara River channeling the water around it mass like an airfoil that gives an aircraft its lift. Goat Island creates a similar turbulence causing the rushing water to speed up along its short side and to slow down some, (by comparison) as it carves away its long shore. There are small inlets, a lagoon if you will, that are gentle enough for toddlers to enjoy natures show. The smooth polished rocks are makeshift seating for a picnic lunch or just a quiet session of contemplation. As you gaze at the beauty that surrounds you, you decide you need to capture it; so you take many pictures – but they do little to capture allure of this most wonderful place, Niagara Falls.
I’m glad you stopped by, if only in your imagination…..perhaps I’ll see you here some balmy day.
I was born and raised in Niagara Falls, often when I mention this fact someone will say I’ve been to Niagara Falls. So what’s the allure of this Natural wonder? I lived within few blocks of the cataracts when I was young; I’ve seen firsthand the powerful attraction this rushing water can have on people. There are often weddings held using it’s majesty as their backdrop. People from throughout the world find its Eden. Its sheer immensity is breathtaking to behold, but there is more than that; it’s indefinable but at the same time it engulfs you with its omnipresent sights, sounds; you feel the tremendous rush of water transmitted through your body much like soothing gentle the motion of a train hurdling down the tracks; you can even feel cooling mist welling up as step close to water’s edge and peer down in into basin below. As your eyes drill down you are reminded to hold on tight by your conscious mind while you subconscious is swept away free from its earthly bonds and traveling along on the water like a child on toboggan in the fresh laid snowy blanket. Your mind tries to fight the urge, but it’s no use you are under its spell, you’ve been brainwashed by it soothing come hither call. After gazing for a while you regain your composure and decide to stroll casually along rough carved edges of the mighty Niagara River that gives this falls its ferocious roar. You watch as endless amounts of water continue pass you as if late for something very important, and all the while still more water comes and goes, is there no end in sight?! No there isn’t, if history is to believed, not for millions of years. So you move forward to allow others to partake of its show of resilience. You cross the small bridge in front of you and your step foot onto Goat Island; you ponder, “How could goats have gotten on this island in the first place. Is it possible that they could fort the river? Not likely your surmise, If I can’t swim across a goat certainly could not, perhaps it’s myth. The story is: some brave soul put them (goats) on the island by boat and they thrived. Let’s enjoy the unspoiled beauty of the small uninhabited island. There are small trails that lead directly to the water’s edge; after all Goat Island is a median in the Niagara River channeling the water around it mass like an airfoil that gives an aircraft its lift. Goat Island creates a similar turbulence causing the rushing water to speed up along its short side and to slow down some, (by comparison) as it carves away its long shore. There are small inlets, a lagoon if you will, that are gentle enough for toddlers to enjoy natures show. The smooth polished rocks are makeshift seating for a picnic lunch or just a quiet session of contemplation. As you gaze at the beauty that surrounds you, you decide you need to capture it; so you take many pictures – but they do little to capture allure of this most wonderful place, Niagara Falls.
I’m glad you stopped by, if only in your imagination…..perhaps I’ll see you here some balmy day.
Beatle Blog
Beatle BLOG
I grew up in the seventies when the Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was released, it was a complete turnabout; as I recall it wasn’t received well, at least not among the Beatles fans I knew, and in the seventies that was quite a number. I personally thought then as I do now that was “druggie” music and I had no use for it. Music is one of my closest friends; we spend much time together: driving, working, relaxing, it always there for me. Music (to me) should be musical it should sway and flow like waves on the beach. It shouldn’t be harsh, spoken or nerve jarring, if anyone can do it not music – music requires talent. Frank Zappa once produced Wildman Fisher, an individual with a mental illness, he found on the street sing his heart out, about nothing; He famously, “My name is Larry,” because Larry had severe mental illness we the audience took that into account, but if the average did the same song we’d run for cover. Larry’s singing was so far out of tune, but we can over look it, however, when the Beatles created Sgt Pepper’s we had no such tolerance, What kind crap is this, was our first response followed by you’ve got to kidding, or turn that Blank OFF!
I struggled with the source of the compare-contrast much as I would if it was about equal rights for perpetrators of genocide. I was too distracted by distaste for the subject matter, I felt the Beatles song was worse than a very early space alien movie, and the dramatization was horrendous, my inner self screaming let me out before I have a mental implosion. The Movie had Brit written all over it – someone mentioned Tim Burton, yes I can seem the similarity, call me cynical I don’t care for the Corpse Bride (yes I have seen) the ending was alright otherwise a very drool movie. I wouldn’t be willing to sit through a playing of the Beatles album and the movie would be far more than I can bear. It reminds me of when my 8th grade English teacher (pure coincidence) brought in his albums for us to audition. They included the Psychedelic Furs and the Kinks, I remember hearing white punks on dope for the first time. We (the Class) were just plain bored and we tuned it out despite our best intentions. That same flood of emotions coursed through my body today. I felt like I was asked Compare and Contrast Spinach and Sour Kraut, you have to taste it first ….But, I hate them both with pure fury, how can I give an assessment when thought of either is like the taste of curdled milk. I just want to get them out of my system in the most expeditious manner, watch it twice, I couldn’t stomach it the first time. Now, describe how it makes you feel …nauseous sums it up, just plain tense, even bewildered, why this? There’s got to be something else on the menu!
I grew up in the seventies when the Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was released, it was a complete turnabout; as I recall it wasn’t received well, at least not among the Beatles fans I knew, and in the seventies that was quite a number. I personally thought then as I do now that was “druggie” music and I had no use for it. Music is one of my closest friends; we spend much time together: driving, working, relaxing, it always there for me. Music (to me) should be musical it should sway and flow like waves on the beach. It shouldn’t be harsh, spoken or nerve jarring, if anyone can do it not music – music requires talent. Frank Zappa once produced Wildman Fisher, an individual with a mental illness, he found on the street sing his heart out, about nothing; He famously, “My name is Larry,” because Larry had severe mental illness we the audience took that into account, but if the average did the same song we’d run for cover. Larry’s singing was so far out of tune, but we can over look it, however, when the Beatles created Sgt Pepper’s we had no such tolerance, What kind crap is this, was our first response followed by you’ve got to kidding, or turn that Blank OFF!
I struggled with the source of the compare-contrast much as I would if it was about equal rights for perpetrators of genocide. I was too distracted by distaste for the subject matter, I felt the Beatles song was worse than a very early space alien movie, and the dramatization was horrendous, my inner self screaming let me out before I have a mental implosion. The Movie had Brit written all over it – someone mentioned Tim Burton, yes I can seem the similarity, call me cynical I don’t care for the Corpse Bride (yes I have seen) the ending was alright otherwise a very drool movie. I wouldn’t be willing to sit through a playing of the Beatles album and the movie would be far more than I can bear. It reminds me of when my 8th grade English teacher (pure coincidence) brought in his albums for us to audition. They included the Psychedelic Furs and the Kinks, I remember hearing white punks on dope for the first time. We (the Class) were just plain bored and we tuned it out despite our best intentions. That same flood of emotions coursed through my body today. I felt like I was asked Compare and Contrast Spinach and Sour Kraut, you have to taste it first ….But, I hate them both with pure fury, how can I give an assessment when thought of either is like the taste of curdled milk. I just want to get them out of my system in the most expeditious manner, watch it twice, I couldn’t stomach it the first time. Now, describe how it makes you feel …nauseous sums it up, just plain tense, even bewildered, why this? There’s got to be something else on the menu!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
What I did yesterday
What I did yesterday after my departure from a Chemistry lecture. As I began to make my way back to the parking lot for me short jaunt home I ran into, in a manner of speaking, Rusty, he’s also an Air Force Retiree. It’s not only the retiree status we have in common, we filled many of the same positions during our tenure some him before I and others were inverted, we also worked together I as his supervisor despite the fact he began his career much earlier. Strange how things work out sometimes – we were friends but as we neared retirement we began to bond, we were both about to undergo a complete upheaval in what we knew as day to day life. Now he led the way – he retired one month prior to me and he showed me the ropes. Our friendship grew, we keep in touch quite often, and yesterday was one of those occasions. He was working, setting up a perimeter to protect students as team of workmen install a new standby generator. We chatted about the usual stuff, school, veterans benefits, medical care – perhaps it’s the unusual stuff, but that’s what bonds us – we support each other – we’re navigating a whole new world that others take for granted. As we talked and laughed he directed the more that occasional student around the coned area that they seemed oblivious to. How strange we thought can’t they see the cones, but of course they can. We are used to world of discipline breaking a barrier in the military leads to serious consequences; no one likes to be jacked-up (thrown to the ground, by an overzealous young security policeman, and then have an M-16 thrust into your back); soon you’ll be interrogated on you misdeed – ignorance is no excuse so save the, “I didn’t see the cones, excuse for someone else” they’ll have none of it. It seems so simple; the cones are there for a reason the polite WSU Police Officer is too, so why try to push through. I shocked by the lack of respect for authority – it’s not my war. I chuckled quietly as he directs another obstinate nonconformist to the safe route. This cat and mouse game went on for short while as the generator was slowly craned into position; as it settled into it resting place and cones were retrieved I bid my friend ado and went on my way.
Narrative Experience
Narrative Experience
When I read the topics for the Narrative the choice was very clear – so clear in fact when I read the choices to my wife she choose the same topic and the same incident, I was sure it was the right choice then. It seemed easy to write about a subject that I knew so very well. There’s a song that goes something like this “Everyone has a story some folks two or three, mines the worse, I should know the damn thing happened to me.” The thoughts came streaming into head almost immediately as I chose my topic, I was pumped up, I grabbed the bull by the horns and began writing and didn’t stop or even slow down until I finished my first draft. It was exhilarating and brought back a lot of memories and a few revelations that only time could piece together.
I realize I have a weakness with commas and semicolons so I had to read my writing out loud and listen for the pauses and slap down the commas the in absences. I suspect my grammar checker was turned off however, autocorrect was working overtime to sabotage my memoir because it was riddled with words I didn’t intend (nor do I recall writing) – but who knows perhaps I was caught up in the fervor and let my fingers have free reign over the keyboard. I begin it as I do many of my writings with just a idea and let words flow like wine; spilling onto the page without interference from my conscience. I enjoy this experience it clears my head and help me to formulate my thoughts more clearly. Soon I have the proverbial train running and I go along for the ride, slowing down, speeding up or making gradual course corrections and smoothing out the bumps along the way. There’s always a lot to see when you’re the engineer of your emotional journey through the pathways of your experiences. Each time you see and hear things in new and exciting ways if you take the time to listen. Writing the narrative was my chance to stretch my mind reach way back – to see how far I’ve come. I couldn’t remember how old I was from one day to next or what it year was, and being unable to remember my anniversary (I don’t need to explain why that’s important). When I wrote the narrative I burrowed deep into my subconscious and found so many things I had forgotten; with the passage of time my mind was able to organize them and file them away and I was able to retrieve them, that’s something I never realized I was capable of – I never had a reason to try. It has only been very recently that I have been able to recall short term thought processes. Writing my narrative was an awakening – I feel rejuvenated and ready to take on many challenges. I enjoy challenges; writing well can be a challenge and with challenges comes rewards. My reward is often the satisfaction of accomplishment.
In summary: I learned a lot about myself, and I challenged myself to write as well as I can. I tried to improve on weaknesses and stretch my imagination and envelop all of my senses. I raised the bar and give it my very best!
When I read the topics for the Narrative the choice was very clear – so clear in fact when I read the choices to my wife she choose the same topic and the same incident, I was sure it was the right choice then. It seemed easy to write about a subject that I knew so very well. There’s a song that goes something like this “Everyone has a story some folks two or three, mines the worse, I should know the damn thing happened to me.” The thoughts came streaming into head almost immediately as I chose my topic, I was pumped up, I grabbed the bull by the horns and began writing and didn’t stop or even slow down until I finished my first draft. It was exhilarating and brought back a lot of memories and a few revelations that only time could piece together.
I realize I have a weakness with commas and semicolons so I had to read my writing out loud and listen for the pauses and slap down the commas the in absences. I suspect my grammar checker was turned off however, autocorrect was working overtime to sabotage my memoir because it was riddled with words I didn’t intend (nor do I recall writing) – but who knows perhaps I was caught up in the fervor and let my fingers have free reign over the keyboard. I begin it as I do many of my writings with just a idea and let words flow like wine; spilling onto the page without interference from my conscience. I enjoy this experience it clears my head and help me to formulate my thoughts more clearly. Soon I have the proverbial train running and I go along for the ride, slowing down, speeding up or making gradual course corrections and smoothing out the bumps along the way. There’s always a lot to see when you’re the engineer of your emotional journey through the pathways of your experiences. Each time you see and hear things in new and exciting ways if you take the time to listen. Writing the narrative was my chance to stretch my mind reach way back – to see how far I’ve come. I couldn’t remember how old I was from one day to next or what it year was, and being unable to remember my anniversary (I don’t need to explain why that’s important). When I wrote the narrative I burrowed deep into my subconscious and found so many things I had forgotten; with the passage of time my mind was able to organize them and file them away and I was able to retrieve them, that’s something I never realized I was capable of – I never had a reason to try. It has only been very recently that I have been able to recall short term thought processes. Writing my narrative was an awakening – I feel rejuvenated and ready to take on many challenges. I enjoy challenges; writing well can be a challenge and with challenges comes rewards. My reward is often the satisfaction of accomplishment.
In summary: I learned a lot about myself, and I challenged myself to write as well as I can. I tried to improve on weaknesses and stretch my imagination and envelop all of my senses. I raised the bar and give it my very best!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
River House
My wife and I have a house on the Saint Croix River in the sleepy little town of Robbinston, Maine. It’s so small the town office is portable building situated in elementary school parking lot; it’s only open half a day several times and it doesn’t even have a telephone.
We love the peace and tranquility a small town has to offer; besides the price was right, we bought our house for a song; it’s gambrel (barn) style with cedar siding and large (floor to ceiling) windows on the river side. The views from the deck are breath taking; we often sit and watch fishing boats and trawlers cruising up and back, dredging the bottom of the river for shell fish. One of the most exciting times we saw a porpoise or seal feeding on the fisherman’s cast offs, we recorded it with a video camera but the distance was too great to focus in on it; nevertheless it was still quite exciting.
American Bald Eagles have a habitat ten miles downriver, but they frequent the waters in front of our house performing an aerial ballet for all onlookers and we are pleased to sit and enjoy the show. Once Pauline watched as the great predator swooped down to the river and snatched fish and soared past her as if say, “the fishing is great – see,” it was spectacular show that she’ll carry forever. We always enjoy the wild life while we’re at our “River House,” during our last vacation we had a close-up with a large whitetail deer crossing our driveway.
It’s not just the wildlife we enjoy while taking a break from the daily grind. We have thirty-three acres of natural Maine wilderness, sometimes we just go for a walk in the woods, like a treasure hunt to see what nature has to offer, be it the scent of pines or rat-a-tat of a woodpecker dining on his favorite delicacy. Other times we walk along the shore and try to indentify the shells washed on rocky shore.
We spend many vacations there without a television or radio, I laughed when people asked about how can you go without television, I pointed out the window and said, “I’m watch a nature show right now.” When it’s too dark to see the river we just sit quietly and listen to the Loons or the soothing sounds of the tide rolling in. We spend our peaceful nights in front of crackling fire or reading book.
We wake up with the rising sun – about 5 o’clock sit on the deck and enjoy breakfast as chickadees and others serenade sweetly in dew laden Pines. Sometimes we pick wild blueberries, raspberries and black raspberries, my favorite, they grow close to the house.
It’s so peaceful we never want to leave but we have family to visit so we pack-up and head up north were its not uncommon to see deer moose or even black bears. Pauline grew up in northern Maine so she goes right out with her camera and takes pictures.
We love the peace and tranquility a small town has to offer; besides the price was right, we bought our house for a song; it’s gambrel (barn) style with cedar siding and large (floor to ceiling) windows on the river side. The views from the deck are breath taking; we often sit and watch fishing boats and trawlers cruising up and back, dredging the bottom of the river for shell fish. One of the most exciting times we saw a porpoise or seal feeding on the fisherman’s cast offs, we recorded it with a video camera but the distance was too great to focus in on it; nevertheless it was still quite exciting.
American Bald Eagles have a habitat ten miles downriver, but they frequent the waters in front of our house performing an aerial ballet for all onlookers and we are pleased to sit and enjoy the show. Once Pauline watched as the great predator swooped down to the river and snatched fish and soared past her as if say, “the fishing is great – see,” it was spectacular show that she’ll carry forever. We always enjoy the wild life while we’re at our “River House,” during our last vacation we had a close-up with a large whitetail deer crossing our driveway.
It’s not just the wildlife we enjoy while taking a break from the daily grind. We have thirty-three acres of natural Maine wilderness, sometimes we just go for a walk in the woods, like a treasure hunt to see what nature has to offer, be it the scent of pines or rat-a-tat of a woodpecker dining on his favorite delicacy. Other times we walk along the shore and try to indentify the shells washed on rocky shore.
We spend many vacations there without a television or radio, I laughed when people asked about how can you go without television, I pointed out the window and said, “I’m watch a nature show right now.” When it’s too dark to see the river we just sit quietly and listen to the Loons or the soothing sounds of the tide rolling in. We spend our peaceful nights in front of crackling fire or reading book.
We wake up with the rising sun – about 5 o’clock sit on the deck and enjoy breakfast as chickadees and others serenade sweetly in dew laden Pines. Sometimes we pick wild blueberries, raspberries and black raspberries, my favorite, they grow close to the house.
It’s so peaceful we never want to leave but we have family to visit so we pack-up and head up north were its not uncommon to see deer moose or even black bears. Pauline grew up in northern Maine so she goes right out with her camera and takes pictures.
FAI
Well I’m just going to let me spirit soar and see where it takes me. I’ve told many stories of my past, this time I’m going to let the ideas take form as I type. I love wood working and I spend many weekends watching the woodworking and home improvement shows – that’s what I’m doing right now, but it’s a repeat so I decided to let It play in the background with the sound off so I can type. I can look up every now then and see what’s happening. I tried for several weeks to catch a particular broadcast of “Ask This Old House” where Tom Silva removed a load bearing wall, I had long since given up trying to find it. I had even checked their website, a frustrating unsuccessful venture, low and behold, it aired once again. I felt it had something to offer, because it seemed similar to much of the work I often encounter replacing windows and doors. I have to remove a double set of windows and replace them with an eight foot sliding patio door that makes its way on to the deck I built a couple years ago. The load bearing wall remodel seemed like it could have some tips I could use, and I was quite please after all the wait to find out in fact that he had a unique trick to deal with cutting header studs without completely removing the plaster. He notched a hole at each stud and surgically severed them, preserving the plaster and the integrity of the wall. Now that I like; it saves time and money and produces a high quality product! I’ve watched these shows for many years and it seems Tom Silva has the best tips; Norm Abram on the other hand often does things that make me cringe. I laugh when people tell me how impressed they are by his workmanship– I don’t a craftsman – I see a carpenter cutting corners who dumbs down antiques to a simplified (lifeless) copy that looses the real value or beauty of the project. His choice of woods disgusts me- plywood doesn’t belong in Victorian furniture, it reeks of cheapness. Polyurethane; his favorite finish has a place, but not on quality furniture, the plastic quality that makes it durable makes look chintzy, as if someone spilled pancake syrup on the piece, yuk. Don’t get me wrong he’s a great carpenter but his furniture making skills are what I take issue with. I dislike arts and crafts; craftsman style or homespun/country furniture with every ounce of my being, it looks crude and slapdash, and this is his forte. Where’s the sense of pride in building that?
I love refined well executed furniture – my favorite is Rococo. Rococo is a French style several hundred years old – with elaborate carving – often gilded with gold and inlayed with pearl and other fineries. This is the stuff of nobility and the finest examples in the world are in French Chateaus. This absolute finest furniture ever made – and when folks say I don’t like that – I say they are talking “sour grapes!” (translation: I dislike what I can’t have).
I love refined well executed furniture – my favorite is Rococo. Rococo is a French style several hundred years old – with elaborate carving – often gilded with gold and inlayed with pearl and other fineries. This is the stuff of nobility and the finest examples in the world are in French Chateaus. This absolute finest furniture ever made – and when folks say I don’t like that – I say they are talking “sour grapes!” (translation: I dislike what I can’t have).
A Good Friend
This story is about JC a good friend; we worked together for many years. We worked in the Phase Dock inspecting B-52’s; he was about four years younger than I. He was an only child so when I first met him he drove me half crazy with his stories about Cougars, he was Ford Nut, and I wanted nothing to do with Ford My father always drove GM. But, as it happens slowly the barriers broke down and we became great friends and a great team. We worked together on the job and off. One night he was working on a B-5 maintenance stand he was putting some screws in a sailboat panel and they were fitting him; he was pushing with all of might when all of sudden the rail he was leaning against came loose on one end and swung free, he pivoted with the rail and fell about ten feet to the ground (a concrete floor), he landed on his feet in a walking stride. He was so shaken by the experience he turned and kicked the stand and hurt his toe. I laughed hysterically, which made him even madder, “it’s not funny,” he said, “oh yes it is,” I retorted. He started to boil, he could have been killed, and I was laughing. I said, “anyone but you would be a bloody mess if not crippled for life, or worse, but not you, you fall backwards feet to ground and somehow manage to pivot yourself around and top it off you landed on your feet in walking stride and never even burned your feet, who are you,” “Get Smart or Inspector Clauseau,” if that isn’t enough you turn around and hurt you toe by kicking the stand. Then he realized just lucky he was and just how funny it really was.
JC was often doing things that had to be seen to believe. I think my favorite story is when he was sealing something and slopped the sealant on a putty knife and this miserable stuff would not come off. He came to me as he often did for the solution, in the case the answer was a solution, hydraulic fluid. He didn’t want to waste a new can just to clean a tool, so once again it was my job to provide the answer. How about the drum of used hydraulic fluid on the other side of hangar? So off he went smiling and happy once more, after a short while I noticed he had not returned from a simple task, so I went on a manhunt, I found him fumbling around the oil drum, “what happened?” I asked. The fluid was too low in the drum to get wet so instead of using safety wire like I told him he decided to string together the small leftovers from filter changes, as he dipped the putty knife in the drum I said, “You’d better be careful with that,” he laughed as pulled it out, the sealant needed more time so he bobbed it up and down and said, “ka-blup,” as he pulled it out, huh no putty knife, now I laughed, I ain’t funny (I realize this bad English but it’s absolute what he said), oh yes it is, and I howled even harder. He was very concerned about explaining how he lost a tool! Here I go again, go to Tanker Phase and get their magnet, I bailed him out again, he came back with magnet and each time he dropped the magnet with SAFETY WIRE attached it would “CLANG” right to the side of the drum, he would fish it back out, after several failed attempts even throwing hard into the opening – no luck. He went to get something to make his life easier, I cannot recall what it was, but while he was gone I put the bung on the drum and tipped it to the side nearest the opening so the putty knife would be directly below it and I used I removable handle (that we used a dipstick) to lower the magnet and within a minute I pulled out the putty knife, moments later he returned I was standing with putty knife in plain sight and he began once again to retrieve it, he made a couple more valiant attempts and asked are you have any luck with putty knife practically under his nose. He finally noticed as he looked at me while was pulling the magnet out. He just could believe his eyes – I had to explain how I did it.
He was always doing things that would make me laugh and had to bail him out!
JC was often doing things that had to be seen to believe. I think my favorite story is when he was sealing something and slopped the sealant on a putty knife and this miserable stuff would not come off. He came to me as he often did for the solution, in the case the answer was a solution, hydraulic fluid. He didn’t want to waste a new can just to clean a tool, so once again it was my job to provide the answer. How about the drum of used hydraulic fluid on the other side of hangar? So off he went smiling and happy once more, after a short while I noticed he had not returned from a simple task, so I went on a manhunt, I found him fumbling around the oil drum, “what happened?” I asked. The fluid was too low in the drum to get wet so instead of using safety wire like I told him he decided to string together the small leftovers from filter changes, as he dipped the putty knife in the drum I said, “You’d better be careful with that,” he laughed as pulled it out, the sealant needed more time so he bobbed it up and down and said, “ka-blup,” as he pulled it out, huh no putty knife, now I laughed, I ain’t funny (I realize this bad English but it’s absolute what he said), oh yes it is, and I howled even harder. He was very concerned about explaining how he lost a tool! Here I go again, go to Tanker Phase and get their magnet, I bailed him out again, he came back with magnet and each time he dropped the magnet with SAFETY WIRE attached it would “CLANG” right to the side of the drum, he would fish it back out, after several failed attempts even throwing hard into the opening – no luck. He went to get something to make his life easier, I cannot recall what it was, but while he was gone I put the bung on the drum and tipped it to the side nearest the opening so the putty knife would be directly below it and I used I removable handle (that we used a dipstick) to lower the magnet and within a minute I pulled out the putty knife, moments later he returned I was standing with putty knife in plain sight and he began once again to retrieve it, he made a couple more valiant attempts and asked are you have any luck with putty knife practically under his nose. He finally noticed as he looked at me while was pulling the magnet out. He just could believe his eyes – I had to explain how I did it.
He was always doing things that would make me laugh and had to bail him out!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Vacation Land
Vacation land
When I was winding down (getting ready to retire) after 20 years in the military my wife and I got more determined than ever to find a place to call home. We (mostly Pauline) searched the internet for the perfect location for a nest. We left no stone unturned, boulder and pebbles included, we looked at homes in the far reaches of the world, Island living sounded nice until the reality kicked in, expensive, heavy rain (I hate rain).
I spent nearly seven months on an atoll, you can call it an island, the thousands of us defending our country, from the middle of the Indian Ocean, certainly did. It rained more than forty days straight all day and all night, we just knew it would have to stop before it hit that fateful number – but it didn’t seem to notice, we didn’t have an ark- we wished we had, we were saturated morning, noon and night, we carried our wallet and all of our valuables in a sandwich bag. We lived in tents during the typhoon; we got pummeled by gale for winds (why would someone name their child Gale – it has such a negative connotation), I worked for twelve hours, preflighting aircraft in the brutal wind driven rain the likes of which you can only imagine unless of course you were swallowed up by man-sized washing machine or walked behind a taxiing aircraft in a rain storm. When the night was over I was a large camouflaged prune slumped over, laden with all the baggage of soggy boots and Government Issue garb. I made my way to my humble abode, and humble it was, a rain soaked wind whipped tent. Rain (the party crasher) found any attended opening and setting about disrupting any sense of civility. The floor was soaked so I picked up my duffle bags and placed them in my cot to in the hopes of keeping my clothes (they were on top) from becoming musty. My clothes are in my cot but I needed sleep and my uninvited guest kept the party going for hours pulling and tugging at the tent. The posts floated up and down like a carousel horse, I soon realized this was melodic march could quickly turn deadly. I noticed my supervisor asleep in his cot when a tent post with its six inch spike got thrust into a nearby cot; what if this had been him, the vision of being impaled by a tent post was just too eerie but I was hesitant to wake him, I knew just how exhausted he must be. I stood vigil as this temper tantrum carried on for several hours; I ran feverishly from corner to corner and side to side returning the post “pins” to their grommets in the tent fabric. The main center supported cracked with a tremendous snap that that rivaled of a thunder clap. Now it was out of my hands if the center strut gave way I was without cover for the night. Now I really had to stay awake if the tent collapsed we would smother. About four hours later I sat down in my cot between my soaking duffle bags fully clothed and ready to spring into action…. I woke a several hours later, I had slept sitting up, drenched. It was time to get ready for another harrowing day.
When I was winding down (getting ready to retire) after 20 years in the military my wife and I got more determined than ever to find a place to call home. We (mostly Pauline) searched the internet for the perfect location for a nest. We left no stone unturned, boulder and pebbles included, we looked at homes in the far reaches of the world, Island living sounded nice until the reality kicked in, expensive, heavy rain (I hate rain).
I spent nearly seven months on an atoll, you can call it an island, the thousands of us defending our country, from the middle of the Indian Ocean, certainly did. It rained more than forty days straight all day and all night, we just knew it would have to stop before it hit that fateful number – but it didn’t seem to notice, we didn’t have an ark- we wished we had, we were saturated morning, noon and night, we carried our wallet and all of our valuables in a sandwich bag. We lived in tents during the typhoon; we got pummeled by gale for winds (why would someone name their child Gale – it has such a negative connotation), I worked for twelve hours, preflighting aircraft in the brutal wind driven rain the likes of which you can only imagine unless of course you were swallowed up by man-sized washing machine or walked behind a taxiing aircraft in a rain storm. When the night was over I was a large camouflaged prune slumped over, laden with all the baggage of soggy boots and Government Issue garb. I made my way to my humble abode, and humble it was, a rain soaked wind whipped tent. Rain (the party crasher) found any attended opening and setting about disrupting any sense of civility. The floor was soaked so I picked up my duffle bags and placed them in my cot to in the hopes of keeping my clothes (they were on top) from becoming musty. My clothes are in my cot but I needed sleep and my uninvited guest kept the party going for hours pulling and tugging at the tent. The posts floated up and down like a carousel horse, I soon realized this was melodic march could quickly turn deadly. I noticed my supervisor asleep in his cot when a tent post with its six inch spike got thrust into a nearby cot; what if this had been him, the vision of being impaled by a tent post was just too eerie but I was hesitant to wake him, I knew just how exhausted he must be. I stood vigil as this temper tantrum carried on for several hours; I ran feverishly from corner to corner and side to side returning the post “pins” to their grommets in the tent fabric. The main center supported cracked with a tremendous snap that that rivaled of a thunder clap. Now it was out of my hands if the center strut gave way I was without cover for the night. Now I really had to stay awake if the tent collapsed we would smother. About four hours later I sat down in my cot between my soaking duffle bags fully clothed and ready to spring into action…. I woke a several hours later, I had slept sitting up, drenched. It was time to get ready for another harrowing day.
What’s my Objective
What’s my Objective
I was stationed in Northern Maine for approximately12 years while serving in the military so I suppose I have a fairly good handle on some the key points interest (objective view).
Maine is primarily a rural state, the northern most part county is Aroostook County a Native American name. The northern region is heavily bilingual because it was originally settled by the French and was acquired from Canada. Potato farming is the primary source of income for this low income area. Winters are with temperatures dropping to -25 degrees or more and wind chill exceeding -50 degrees and an average summer temperature of 70 degrees. Because of its extreme northeastern location, Limestone, Maine was chosen by the Strategic Air Command to base B- 52’s for defense of the eastern seaboard. Loring Air Force Base was integral part of the nuclear defense triad. The Maine state bird is the Chickadee and the Maine state animal is the moose. Maine is a conservative state and does not allow the use of billboards on its highways. The capitol city of Maine is Augusta and the largest city is Portland named appropriately because it served as the main port for import and export of goods. Eastport, located in Washington County is the eastern most point in the continental United States and is home to last stone ground mustard mill in the US. The American Bald Eagle has made Washington County its home. St. Croix Island; located in the St. Croix River was the first settlement in the United States founded by Samuel de Champlain in 1604, forms an international border between the US and Canada.
Now for the easy part a subjective view, my wife and I own a house and thirty-three forested acres overlooking the St. Croix River. To describe Maine subjectively let’s take a visit (through your imagination). As you enter Maine on the turn pike you will immediately notice the accent of the toll taker as they say, “Ah, yah” or things like, “you can’t get there from here.” They like to wear warm clothes (sweaters are the norm) and beards to protect themselves from Maine biting cold. But it’s summer on this trip so it’s warm – it’s never truly hot in Maine, cool summers are nice but the black flies are out. The first time I heard talk of black flies I shrugged are they different for the flies in New York, the house flies in NY are pets, Maine black flies are piranhas the size of a match head and they burn just as much when they bite. I’ll bet you’d love to see the coastline while you’re here so let’s take a cruise up route 1 coastal, it’s free and it bypasses the tolls and it’s soothing and scenic. There are usually small fishing boats and dinghys anchored off shore in the shallow water. Maine has a rocky coast – so the waves crash tumultuously, yet are nevertheless soothing, like babbling brook. Maine people are very conservative and will throw nothing away – I mean nothing, so you’ll find antiques everywhere. I could go on for hours and days – see Maine and see what you’re missing.
I was stationed in Northern Maine for approximately12 years while serving in the military so I suppose I have a fairly good handle on some the key points interest (objective view).
Maine is primarily a rural state, the northern most part county is Aroostook County a Native American name. The northern region is heavily bilingual because it was originally settled by the French and was acquired from Canada. Potato farming is the primary source of income for this low income area. Winters are with temperatures dropping to -25 degrees or more and wind chill exceeding -50 degrees and an average summer temperature of 70 degrees. Because of its extreme northeastern location, Limestone, Maine was chosen by the Strategic Air Command to base B- 52’s for defense of the eastern seaboard. Loring Air Force Base was integral part of the nuclear defense triad. The Maine state bird is the Chickadee and the Maine state animal is the moose. Maine is a conservative state and does not allow the use of billboards on its highways. The capitol city of Maine is Augusta and the largest city is Portland named appropriately because it served as the main port for import and export of goods. Eastport, located in Washington County is the eastern most point in the continental United States and is home to last stone ground mustard mill in the US. The American Bald Eagle has made Washington County its home. St. Croix Island; located in the St. Croix River was the first settlement in the United States founded by Samuel de Champlain in 1604, forms an international border between the US and Canada.
Now for the easy part a subjective view, my wife and I own a house and thirty-three forested acres overlooking the St. Croix River. To describe Maine subjectively let’s take a visit (through your imagination). As you enter Maine on the turn pike you will immediately notice the accent of the toll taker as they say, “Ah, yah” or things like, “you can’t get there from here.” They like to wear warm clothes (sweaters are the norm) and beards to protect themselves from Maine biting cold. But it’s summer on this trip so it’s warm – it’s never truly hot in Maine, cool summers are nice but the black flies are out. The first time I heard talk of black flies I shrugged are they different for the flies in New York, the house flies in NY are pets, Maine black flies are piranhas the size of a match head and they burn just as much when they bite. I’ll bet you’d love to see the coastline while you’re here so let’s take a cruise up route 1 coastal, it’s free and it bypasses the tolls and it’s soothing and scenic. There are usually small fishing boats and dinghys anchored off shore in the shallow water. Maine has a rocky coast – so the waves crash tumultuously, yet are nevertheless soothing, like babbling brook. Maine people are very conservative and will throw nothing away – I mean nothing, so you’ll find antiques everywhere. I could go on for hours and days – see Maine and see what you’re missing.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Toyota woes
There’s no “us” in Prius
It wasn’t long ago that gas prices were so high that you’d have to scale Mt. Everest to look down on them, and consumers were scrambling to get a vehicle that got GREAT gas mileage; the Toyota Prius with its claims of 60 MPG was a hot commodity; even I test drove a Prius. What was it like to drive the vehicle most clamored in America, in a word disappointing! How so? The most important feature inside the greenhouse is the LCD screen that relates all the fuel saving information, as well a rear video camera display. This display is a true necessity (packaged as an accessory) because the rear hatch blocks your view and prevents the driver from backing up safely. This display was poorly shrouded and produced such glare it was unusable during most of my short journey. The Prius was quiet – too quiet – it’s dangerous to pedestrians, they cannot hear the car coming especially when backing out of a parking space or coming around a blind corner! I did a quick check of the internet to support my comments with those of others and it bears repeating – “hybrids are silent killers” was a CNN news headline. Where’s that rear camera when I need it? This was just the first in a litany of disappointments; the sparse interior was less than comfortable because the manufacturer’s prime focus was high mileage; you might say the interior took a back seat in the comfort and quality department.
Let’s focus on fuel mileage for a moment; how does the Prius achieve this unprecedented 60 MPH. First and foremost it doesn’t, those are unfounded claims that have been refuted by the EPA, and Toyota has since revamped those inflated ratings. Furthermore a hybrid earns its best ratings in city driving unlike a traditional automobile; this is because a hybrid shuts off the (gasoline) engine whenever the electrically driven motor can support the load i.e.: coasting, braking, idling, cruising and operating at reduced speeds. I needed a car for a 100 mile daily jaunt to Hutchinson Community College; I simply wouldn’t see enough savings to justify the cost of the vehicle payment and I didn’t want the rude “awakening” of an early morning drive in a grocery getter that rode like buckboards.
As a mechanic who likes to get his hands dirty and the satisfaction of the DIY experience; a Prius with its “lethal” 200 volt battery was out of my league as well as that of a mechanic without special training given only to Toyota Dealerships. Limited production and limited service providers equate to exorbitant dealer prices with no other avenues; all roads lead to the Toyota service department. I also felt Toyota didn’t have enough time behind the wheel of this new technology to work the kinks out.
My brother owned two Prius’ he sold one because it was such a wonderful car and joy to drive (please note the irony). His wife traveled 40 miles round trip daily – she needed a Prius; he soon discovered the high mileage tires (yes, special tires, can you say expensive) were afraid of the cold, not really afraid just plain dangerous, it’s the driver that’s afraid when the car wouldn’t stop or turn because the low rolling resistance tire treads are packed with snow. He changed the banana peels, ah that’ll do it, to snow tires so the Prius can get one proverbial foot in front of the other – its electric locomotion will not allow you to “rock it” in winter free like a traditional carbon emitter. The new sneakers gave him traction in the snow but his gas mileage plummeted.
Life is full of tradeoffs; good mileage often comes at the expense of comfort and safety.
Did I mention the 2010 Toyota Prius brake recall?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Wood Classics begins
Many years ago I was talking with a Chief Master Sergeant about a new tool I bought; it was amazing, it would turn an average skilled person into a craftsman with just a few short hours of practice. I was extolling the virtues of this fantastic woodcutting guide when Chief Mickow asked, “can you build a shadow box?” I said, “I don’t know; what’s a Shadow box?” I could only picture a deep mirrored frame hung on the wall adorned with knickknacks. I soon found out a shadow box was a display case for military memorabilia, accoutrements and a fold US Flag. I was given a challenge, so I began to study a few examples of shadow boxes that I could find, they were rarely on hand except when a military member was about to retire. I found five such shadow boxes and most seemed very plain you might say crude as if slapped together hurriedly to meet a looming deadline (later I found this was often the case). I had the tool and the desire I returned to the Chief with the determination; “if I give it my best I can do it,” I said, and I set out to do just that… my best! I shopped around for the best materials; if you start off with poor quality materials even the best effort would produce a fine looking mediocre product. All the wooden parts were meticulously cut fitted and finished; the interior was high gloss piano black, with a shimmery black cloth framed with a white oak picture frame, the tour de force was the hand-cut mat board with gold accent stripes, it set everything off, the likes of which had never seen before (or since). I was quite happy with my first attempt and people often said that was the best shadow box they had ever seen, therein lies the dilemma, it was one of kind and twice as expensive as all others, many wanted it, be who truly deserved it? At first we decided it was best to auction it off to give everyone a fair chance, but later it was donated to the Top Four a military organization of the highest ranking non commissioned officers. I still had the demand so I decided to challenge myself once again to build two more shadow boxes and to make them in less time; this would help recover some of the money I spent the first time. I used blue and red velvet for the interiors (more traditional colors) and red oak stain on the picture frame to give them an unrivaled luxuriant style, it worked, Chief Mickow bought the first one for an absolutely unheard of $275.00; for comparison the going rate was $50. The dam was broken, there was no turning back the third one also sold for $275.00, and I was dumbfounded. I realized I had a talent and skill that would make people happy. Soon I was swamped with orders, I worked many long hours but when customers like what they saw – that was worth far more than money. It’s been more than a decade and I’ve built hundreds or possibly a thousand – countless (I loss count years ago).
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
current events
Current events
I decided to go looking for story I could comment on; I wanted something that I feel strongly about and something I have enough knowledge of, that I could make informed comments; I found a story about Cadmium in adult jewelry. Your first question should be; what is cadmium? Followed by; why it that important to me? Cadmium is a heavy metal and a carcinogen. I’m certain, in today’s society; you realize that a carcinogen is a cancer causing agent. What kind of problem can I expect from Cadmium poisoning --Respiratory and Kidney problems are well documented. Cadmium is a heavy metal and builds up in the body over time much like Lead, another heavy metal carcinogen – why am I bring up the comparison, because the same companies that are producing these toxic products are merely shifting from one toxic substance to another to keep ahead of authorities all the while putting your health at risk! How is this possible? They are produced in unregulated countries that have a single ambition, make money; how they do it is of little concern to them or their government. This is vicious cycle of cat and mouse with the consumer caught in the middle; every time, agencies like the Consumer Product Safety Committee CPSC discovers faulty or dangerous products they begin the arduous process of banning the products; but they have been powerless to enforce any penalty against perpetrators, so they (perpetrators) change tactics or venues and begin anew. If you would like more information about Cadmium Poisoning – a reliable source would be the Food and Drug Administration FDA or Environmental Protection Agency EPA or the Kansas Department of Health and the Environment KDHE and as I mentioned earlier the CSPC is another fine source. This toxic Jewelry can be plated metal chains and such, or even the breast cancer awareness bracelets – how ironic! The stores, I found, selling these items ranged from: Saks Fifth Avenue to Aeropostale as well as Catherine’s and let me not forget Wal-Mart. We, consumers, get highly charged when we here about such stories especially when it comes to kids toys but what are we doing about it; swearing at the television will not stop the import of deadly products, corporate American understands one thing and one thing only $$$$$. Where you spend your money and what you spend it on speaks volumes. I get so frustrated when in go into the store and I confronted by cheap “stuff” (feel free to substitute your favorite noun for “stuff”), I always make a point of saying, “where’s it made, I don’t buy - made in China.” If more consumers make a stand, retailers will hear them; when Wal-Mart opened its first store in Germany I was thoroughly disappointed, I thought they had broken into the land of high quality well engineered products such as Mercedes Benz, BMW and many other fine automobiles; my disappointment soon faded and triumph soon graced my being as the German people spoke with their wallets and the Great Empire was force to concede defeat and pack their “stuff” and be gone!
So always buy the best you can afford – because you get what you pay for and you pay for what you get (in the case of toxic jewelry – long term illness - or worse).
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