April 15, 2015

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 15, 2014, motorcycle tows motorcycle.
Five years ago today: April 15, 2010, on Chernobyl (1986) and FireHow.
Six years ago today: April 15, 2009, the MIDI crowd.

MORNING
           This morning I read the Miami Fag Rag. As usual, it confirms that America has become a nation of slightly retarded mis-fits. Third generation affluence allows idiots to grow up in complete isolation to the facts of life. Then whine like babies when it smacks them in the eyes 35 years later. I didn’t mind the yuppies, or the yuppie-puppies, or Gen X, because they were only half-stupid. But these Milleniums have gone full retard.

           Example: 27 year old Demitri Nelson, from South Carolina, tries to car-jack an old lady but he’s to fn stupid to operate a stick shift. Or the latest scare of hackers taking over the flight controls using a laptop. You sub-human morons, back in my day they didn't call them "pilots" 'less the bastards actually knew how to actually fly a goddam'd airplane.
           And the admission that Florida real estate sales are lagging most of the country, that item was buried deeply in a quip under “Florida Briefs” over in section 2C. You’d have to be some special kind of stupid to sign a mortgage in Florida these days. Oh, and being up to you neck in debt with kids to raise and no choice but to borrow, that qualifies a some kind of special stupid.
           But most of all, you have to wonder about that goof in Ft. Lauderdale who left his SUV running in the garage for six hours. Opened the door, he did, and dropped dead. Let me guess, he also had a mortgage.
           Did you see the clip of the “girlfriend” forced to return a quarter billion in “gifts” to the wife of her ex-boyfriend. That’s the old guy some sports team finally got rid of by blowing some racial comment thing way out of proportion. But there you go, would-be gold-diggers. You wanted equality and now you are getting it. Not that I’m discouraging young women from dating old men, hell, you’ll never hear me say that. But when I do it, I don’t try to pretend it is something ridiculous like “friendship”.

NOON

           Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you. (Farm wisdom)

           OMG. Time to dial 1-800-Admit It. I’ve become a gear-cutting addict! Please forgive me, Mama. I’ve already broken two bandsaw blades and filled two vacuum bags with dust. That’s the sure sign you’ve gone off the deep end of gear-cutting obsession. In search of the perfect 27-tooth 25-degree drive wheel, it’s taken control of me. I’ve tried to stop but I can’t.

           Well, unless I break another saw blade or decide I need a cup of coffee. Do you suppose the Plywood Gear Cutting Hall of Fame will recognize my earlier work, shown here? On the far left is a “blank” gear, that’s what they look like before I get started.
           But have a ‘boo at the examples now coming off the assembly line. How's that for gear-cutting? Like my women, smooth and even. That, Sparky, is what a wooden gear is supposed to look like.
           These gears, like the large one shown, turn out to be more than durable enough for a demonstration or prototype operation. These are all made from scrap lumber and for the large gear you are looking at, oh, around fifteen minutes production, start to finish on the saw. The design and printing of templates is extra. These gears do not yet have the center hole drilled, this step does involve a little more precision.
           I would hate to guess what the cost would be to have a gear like this built in a shop. I’m judging only by the design and labor, both physical and mental, not by how quickly somebody with a professional gear-cutting machine could turn one out. My guess is around $160. Plus $21 for new band saw blades, for those who noticed the band saw in the background is missing the working part. Something is maladjusted and I’m tinkering with it.
           As you look at these gears again, a band saw is pretty much a prerequisite to get this far. However, there is no alternative to experience. Only around half these gears were cut before the bandsaw blades snapped, so they were finished “by hand” on the scroll saw. Don't assume you can do this. Those without knowledge of gear tooth angles and a steady, patient hand, might want to hold off until you get the replacement blades. Use the scroll saw only for the tiny finishing touches.
           Myself, I could not wait. There was a gear trapped in that wood that desperately needed my help to break free. Yep, you can tell when a man gets hooked. He’d rather cut a gear tooth than drive his scooter up to the library. That’s total addiction. Get the man a twelve-step program.

AFTERNOON
           Slowly driving my red scooter back from Fred’s after making the annual backup copies, what do I find. A brand new pair of vice grips, just lying on the pavement. There, that’s vindication of why old guys on scooters get to drive slow on every road. Because I once found some vice-grips. And you can’t argue because there is probably a law somewhere these days that says you can’t hurt my itty-bitty feelings. Isn’t America grand?

           Speaking of that, I hear that marriage was grand. But divorce was twenty grand. Ha, ha, little joke there. Anyway, we got to talking about the broken saw blades. It turns out they can be repaired. Hey, at $21 a set, I’m going to give it a whirl. Apparently the procedure uses the exact make of MIG welder we have. I know the tension on the saw blade isn’t really that great. The instructions say to weld the joint, grind it flat, then “temper” it to red hot with a blow torch.
           There. Can you see them? Two broken blades. My coarse and my fine. They break when I try to cut arcs to sharp, yet I stay within the parameters listed in the guidebook. Give me a few more hours on this puppy and I’ll have it singing to me. So, even though it was so broiling hot today I did not make it to the store, I’m happy that I learned something. It usually cools down by 7-ish, so maybe I’ll get outside yet.

EVENING
           So, MacDonald’s is investigating ways to get out of, er, I mean, diversify from the burger business. This news from “Now I Know”, the great e-mail trivia service from Dan Lewis. I don’t endorse it, but I can recommend it for good, clean, interesting information. Well, he is, after all, a lawyer. Not me. I don’t have to say “redneck” as if it is a bad thing. MacDonald’s is doing their research in faraway Australia. Here is the place, called “The Corner”.

           Pointedly, they do not serve any traditional MacD’s fare. The story of my connection with MacD’s finally serving great coffee goes way back. It’s true, I may be the one who set that in motion. I got free coffee for three months (it was six, but I never went back after three) for telling them I’d pay them a dollar (twice the cost at that time) if the coffee was good.
           Apparently, the coffee is branded. It would do my heart good to see them open a shop within one block of every damn Starbucks in the world, charge a decent price, and give a free refill. Starbucks ruined the way America drinks coffee. And no, their product has never been that good. Stupid people get fooled by their artificial flavorings, but the coffee is crap. And they’ve overcharged for it from day one.
           Did I go out to the coffeehouse tonight myself? Gee, no mention of it here. Maybe I’m saving the news for tomorrow. But I don’t know, since I’m of a mind to take an impromptu little trip somewhere. Anywhere will do, as long as I get out of town once a month. I don’t want to wind up like Ken or Wallace or Theresa, you know. With no difference between one day and the next, except getting older and older and older. No progress. Just older.


Last Laugh