One year ago today: March 13, 2014, gerentological virginity?
Five years ago today: March 13, 2010, are Pringles food?
Ten years ago today: March 13, 2005, Calle Ocho.
MORNING
I really like my bandsaw. It cuts foam rubber and zips right through layers of cloth like you see in those illegal factories that make fake designer jeans. This bandsaw is something I can really use. I’m actually looking around the house for things I can practice cutting. No, I’m not going to make my own pork chops. But this saw is fun to watch. Between this and the scroll saw, it seems to my untrained eye that anything is possible.
It has been trimmed so that the measuring marks start at zero. Not a quarter of an inch inward from the left edge like the top ruler. The truly over-observant may detect the bottom ruler actually starts slightly to the right of zero. Don’t worry, it has been fine-sanded that way to give an accurate measurement when butted against the bandsaw fence.
So you see, I’ve been busy. If anyone gets the impression I’m running myself ragged, relax. I put no more energy into my current projects that I did in other ways my whole life. I’ve put the same effort into computers, music, reading, and such. The only difference is those were intangibles and for the first time, I’m building stuff I can pick up. Read today’s addendum for an in depth look at my “artificial horizon” experiment.
Also, I saw something unusual. Y’day’s National Debt counter actually went down. It was $18.161 trillion, but when I glanced at it this morning it read $18.154 trillion. This actually increased my trust in that counter, since the media left me with little thought that the deficit could actually diminish. But it looks like it did, by some $7 billion-ish. See below, this is NOT an active counter.
NOON
"Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in." (Farm wisdom)
Sprinkling rain means a study session and finding any loose ends that need tying up. I further staying in a controlled environment (my comfy armchair) due to a possible prescription side effect. I’m supposed to be on that sync system where all refills are same date, but I went without for four days and had these mini-spells. I’m okay, but I don’t know about people who are already prone to panic attacks or bouts of self-doubt. I mean, I don’t have anything that requires any treatment that is mood-altering.
I opted to forego my afternoon movie and cut the tank cogs. I can yet manage only a rough job, but if I was to make these for a living, I’d make a jig. One thing, with the combination of the bandsaw, scroll saw, drill press and cutoff saw, the parts are now made in seconds rather than hours. Even if they don’t work, that still speeds progress so much, I’ve dubbed the prototype the 100XN. That stands for 100 times fast than Nova.
I made some mushroom soup (Europek, no Monsanto chem-soup) and tea, so I’m fine for the day. Among the topics I studied are conductivity in diamonds and linseed oil. Why do they boil linseed oil? The answer is they don’t. They used to, but now add chemicals that shorten the 3-day drying time to a few hours. And they will not say what the chemicals are, so I’d stay away from them.
And it appears there are now artificial diamonds on the market that cannot be distinguished from the real thing. Hence, buying them is even more of an absurdity than it used to be. Remember, I hang out with the investing class and diamonds are like coins and stamps. I have never met a person who made any real money on them except the dealers.
AFTERNOON
If you are not as captivated by building robot parts as I am, now might be the great time to head out for your Friday night. I will myself, but later, after I’ve had enough fun with the tank treads. It turns out there are two types, “live” and “dead”. Mine will be the dead variety, characterized by its role of blindly flowing around the track without performing any of the work itself. And you know why? Good, I don’t. I probably couldn’t build any the other kind.
Also seen is the “wood anvil”, part of a Home Depot skid that looks remarkably like the bumpers on my cPod camper. The reason for cutting the parts slightly oversize and pounding them together with a rubber mallet makes tremendous sense if you suspect you are probably going to have is dissemble the parts a few times anyway.
For those of you who are following along by building your own matching parts, like I am certain all the go-getters at Nova are doing, the gear teeth pivot points are 18mm apart. The reason for this is that is the only size file I have that will clean out the wood chips between the teeth. You want redneck logic, there, put that in your thesis.
As for the width of the track, it is even more scientific. The width is one and one-half inches plus a sixteenth. You know, the next smallest mark on your tape measure. I figure I’ll just make the first set of teeth so loose that they will work. Heeeyyyyy, it’s not like I’m working on some NASA grant over here.
EVENING
I’ve decided to “probably not” follow up with the rhythm player who got me to audition last week. While he was reasonably talented, there is far, far, far, (did I say far) more to playing in a band, or even with other musicians than musical talent. Anyone who tells you otherwise has not paid their dues. I sometimes wish they would invent another term for people who play in a band “for fun”. I associate that with over-the-hill wannabe guitar players who need an excuse to start drinking on Sundays.
Also, the guy was just over-disorganized in too many ways, like he even directed me into the wrong parking spot and darn near got me towed. He gave me the wrong address and the wrong time twice each (to Margaritaville). There are furthermore too many things wrong with his approach than cannot be explained by the age-old excuse about not playing for money. Oddly, such people tend to know other such people and pretty soon you have a clown party every week.
And I might point out that playing five instruments is supposed to mean more than the offhand ability to crank out “Yankee Doodle” on the dulcimer. You can also quit calling the claves an instrument. However, something did come up that interests me.
I stopped in at the Walkabout expecting to see Johnny D and instead it was the same guy as last Sunday. Since I was in for a cold one, I listened more closely to what he does. In a highly opinionated statement, he plays the “wrong” music but if the crowd listens, I become very lenient all of a sudden. He plays like Eddie, dropping chords and hitting the odd bad one. My experience is that all guitarists who can do a solo act are terrible band members because their easiest option is to just quit. But I sat at the table with his wife, who basically told me his musical philosophy is identical to mine.
ADDENDUM
We’ve gone over this before, but here is finally a properly designed diagram to match the project. The height of eye causes a phenomenon called “dip”. You can find these dip tables in a nautical almanac, it is determined by the height of eye above sea level. This is not possible on land, but I still like to use my sextant. Is there a compromise? As long as it is reasonable, I say there is [a compromise].
To follow my diagram, the observing eye is on the right, the dip to the horizon, some 14 miles away, is on the left. So there exists an angle between level away from the eye and the true horizon. That’s your dip. My theory is that if a story pole is placed a known distance from the foot of the observer (say, 30 feet), the line of sight will intersect that pole at a height constant enough to get a reading.
X marks that hypothetical spot, the bottom sketch is just the same drawn a little bigger to make matters clearer. My theory goes on to say the origin of the light rays is so far away as to appear parallel. Therefore, on any tolerably flat terrain, a mark on this pole, matched to my own personal height of eye (50 to 68 inches, should give acceptable results at any altitude my motorcycle will run.
We know from Pike’s Peak (see 2012) this altitude is “almost to the top”. Little joke, there, ha, ha. The enjoyment factor is working out a position, then using land atlases, which are still in plentiful supply, to see how close I got. The delay in conducting this experiment is that, like surveying, I need a second person to hold that pole and mark it. And some way to carry a pole of the correct size to the beach. I’m working on it.
All I need is a tape measure, a pole, and a pair of good binoculars. Well, that, and a reliable person to meet me at the beach, hold the pole, and not whine like a baby until I supply sandwiches and coffee for ten minutes of easy work. You think that won’t happen? Then you don’t know Florida.
Last Laugh
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