One year ago today: July 24, 2013, banned college video.
Five years ago today: July 24, 2009, touring around.
Ten years ago today: July 24, 2004, analemma?
Good morning Winter Haven. It sits between a host of small towns and cities smack in the middle of nowhere, which is the jungle and bombing ranges south of Disneyworld. Nope, not kidding, look it up. The reason I backtracked to Kissimmee is there isn’t even a direct road through them barrens. I wanted to spend a day there but next time. The train station was definitely on the other side of the tracks. But I remembered Nell’s, the food place and I wanted breakfast.
I was well into chatting up the cashier before learning she runs the place—see, I knew she exuded to much authority to escape my attention. Instant sparks, so I cautiously left my contact info. My kingdom for a gal who can keep up with me. And I don’t mean by slowing me down, okay? I found the road south, it goes past Legoland. It resembles a small castle, but it was early and I was late. Before long I rode into Okeechobee, another town without a used book store.
But the logic for Florida says that before can you have used books, you need people who read books in the first place. If anyone missed the point I’m making, you might like Okeechobee. Seriously, I pulled into the most hippy-looking coffee shop I could find. Interestingly, everybody in the place struck up a conversation with me except the one pretty gal in the corner. She talked to all the others, but not me. Not even a where-you-from.
Mostly, I thought about the flubbed satellite mission and when I’ll ever get back that way. This was some twenty miles west of Canal Point when my motor died. Oh no, miles from anywhere and a storm on the horizon. Within minutes, a squad car pulled over. He was on his way somewhere but said he’d check back on the return leg to see how I was doing. The road is too high speed with no shoulders for anyone to be the Good Samartan.
To my dismay, I found all three of my batteries had died. The Honda, the booster pack, and my beauty, the marine RV cell. Last night I told you of the panic to get out of the rain and I must have elbowed the power switch. Why else was it off? Now what. Around ten minutes later, a second squad car pulled up. Two patrol guys who instantly saw my situation. These guys saved my bacon. They pulled around and helped me boost, which failed. But I explained the grounding problem.
We uncoupled the trailer, gave a short push, and the unit fired right up. Thanks guys, this is your best report card, Palm Beach county. They even parked the flashers so I could get off the grass onto the roadway safely. The younger guy was fascinated by the wagon electronics, particularly the relay bypass. He said he wished he could do such wiring and all I could do was advise him to start reading. Seriously, you won’t learn the right things by watching or listening. I wish there was something I could do to make the path easier.
I quickly opened the throttles and did the speed limit plus five all the way back home, arriving here at just after 3:00PM. No satellite, one breakdown, $21 worth of coffee (the figure $31 stated elsewhere was wrong). Of course, I’ll tally up the total cost and post it soon. No rocket and I’ve been waiting since I was six to see that event. That’s how far back the disappointment reaches on this one. There has to be another time. And I’m taking my sextant.
Here is a larger photo of a river dredge. The barges are placing the tailings on that artificial island on the opposite bank. Where I was on the Jetty, there was a gap between the island and shore where it was possible to see the launches begin, albeit miles away. When the island is complete, it will block this free view completely. That's so pitable, that we pay taxes that enable these space adventures, but we must pay again to watch them spend our money.
ADDENDUM
[Author's note 2022: the following passage is hard to read. It is pasted in from an old robot club record and details the time I took a hand-built robot finger to the NOVA robot club meeting. The other "team" showed up with a 3D printed hand. But they could not make it work. The snarky sound of the following is because the leader of that other team seriously did not like me. Probably just a personality clash, since my team was the one that got things done and made him, the "leader" of the meetup, look like the fat, useless blob that he was. That's the guy who loved to cancel meetups by text messaging and who stole the 3D printer.]
I raced to get there, but I got to the meetup in time to see the results. Recall, a month ago I pushed through the “build” proposition, but only succeeded because others were absent. Even though the change was reflected in their announcements, there was a real chance things could just as rapidly have been undone. I was happily surprised, but get ready for some barbs. I forget who said it, but when you get educated, you can get yourself into far more intellectual troubles.
I know this was a psychological ploy, but it worked, didn’t it? I spotted long ago my usual approach (let the other guy think he’s on board) was not getting the fire lit. As the oldest attendee, I saw the others were mainly beginners apt to reject anything from my direction. So it was psychology or nothing. As long as things keep moving ahead, I was right--so pray it keeps moving.
The attitudes are still there. When I brought in my home-made finger, a lot of noses got turned up. But that cool Russian dude knows the score and he sits back quietly watching my progress. All these guys were fumbling with the pre-fab fingers and some ventured to say I my finger reinvented the wheel. That’s what a bunch of rookies we got there. The hypocrisy was ten minutes into their trial-and-error play, it was, “Let me see that finger of yours again.” That was fun to see.
No, I didn’t say it, but I was tempted. What I said was the backwards approach you use when dealing with bratty kids. I quoted the guy who said I had to keep reinventing the wheel, not because we need better wheels, but because we need better inventors. Look at 'em go, and yes, I did spot the irony in it all. Hypocrisy has a subtle aroma.
But I’m there to learn. I instantly commissioned the printer guy to first perfect his technique, then build me two thumbs. Two? Yes. One for them, one for me here at home. I see his printer is not so great with small holes. This is a new printer, not the one from the kid in Miami who quit showing up. Hopefully the round of Internet photos this time will bring him back into the fold. He’ll see progress—and I was only in charge a few moments—which was enough for me. Now let the other guy take over.
There’s more. I was informed of an obvious fact I overlooked. Each piece printed on the 3D must be designed to have at least on flat surface. Think about that. What’s more, there is an improved video that shows the hand as not having full functionality. The thumb and pointer are controlled independently, but the remaining three fingers move as a unit. I did not ask the obvious question of why waste the effort of making nine joints when three would work.
I learned the “cables” that serve as tendons are 200 lb braided (not monofilament) fishing line. Which is not a special order item. Only 80-lb test is sold locally. It has a strong surface friction “bite” and it takes and holds a knot. The lower photo shows a spool of this thread and a stepper motor in the upper right corner. That motor technology is still to be learned. Give me 24 hours.
