One year ago today: June 21, 2022, redneck electric starter.
Five years ago today: June 21, 2018, Texas target practice.
Nine years ago today: June 21, 2014, music in a test tube.
Random years ago today: June 21,2016, enough signatures.
No more fussing with the air lines, I was downtown at opening time. The first picture here shows quite clearly the problem. On the left is the air hose coupling, on the right is copper air line. To attach anything to the air line except another airline, you need an adapter. The copper pipe company doesn’t make anything compatible with compressor fittings. The compressor people have the same philosophy and make nothing that can directly connect to the. This explains the chasing around. This picture shows one of a number of arrangements. From left to right, the female hose coupling, then the 1/4" seal covered by Teflon™ tape, which adapts to a 3/8” fitting.
Today is Thunberg Day. Time’s up. End of the world, unless she’s just a blow-hard. Remember the butterfly capacitors, there used to be one in every old radio. They’ve become a rarity and a collectors item. I had a go at building one in 2011 but I did not know about plate spacing. I’m inclined to try again now that I have experience and better tools. We awoke to a grumbling thunderstorm. So maybe Greta meant noon or at least after breakfast.
I made it downtown for parts. It was a failed trip, but I picked up this male-to-male adapter in case I locate another female thread. The old section of air lines is quite usable. From experience, I put in a cut-off valve precisely in case this sort of nonsense happened. This is not the America I grew up in. Tampa radio reports the Ukrainian accountant who exposed the Biden bribery payment has been found dead. The new air line had a leak, it was a bit predictable. There is a 90° elbow just outside the red shed that should have had two people to install.
In the end, I had to string out the entire array of tools, solder, grips, gloves, paste, and pipe cutters. Then build a jig to hold the pieces, all because there is never any good help. This took four hours, longer than to install the entire remainder of the pipes. I had to cut an old piece away. Normally you construct as much of the assembly as possible on the bench, which I did with this joint and it leaked anyway.
Removing an old piece means three hands. One to hold the torch, one to keep the pipe steady (plastic clamps these days will just melt), and your third hand to tap the old pipe loose. It never comes clean, there is always a ring of solder too thick to allow the replacement, so get out the file and rasp it down to dimension. Fun. The next panel show the last coupler that needs attention, that piece with the wee black lever is temporary to keep test air from leaking. That segment runs along the ceiling of the white shed. I’ve not built any supports, so I’m pointing at a hose clamp holding an aluminum bar across the length to keep it from sagging.
Confiscated England gang weapons.
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Spotty rain kept me hopping into the shed, where I used the time on other projects. Here is one of the original club tools, the band saw. I believe I got this for $25 and it still gives sterling service. It is preparing the piping for the squirrel teeter trap. One got in the other trap last night after dark, which isn’t supposed to happen. Because a trapped animal attracts predators. What I heard was the struggle and the rodent luckily got away. They can do this by thrashing around until the trap turns on its side.
There should be a picture of the progress. It is that green drainage pipe that never got used. You might make out the outer ring wrapped around the main pipe, my finger is on the split. This can be slid to and fro to adjust for the situation. The bandsaw does pretty work. This is the ring that will pivot and provide for a carry handle. My most ancient radio, the General Electric, has finally gone bad. It’s AM/FM but will not hold a station and both modes pick up static from electrical storms. I’ll eyeball it but it is being replaced by the radio from Lem in Tennessee.
San Francisco has been sued. The City continues to run glowing ads depicting the downtown as a fun and historic family vacation desitination. In reality, is is a festering cesspool and has been that way nearly twenty years. Piles of rotten garbage and rotten people on the sidewalks, open drug use, and violent crime out of control. Most merchandising and retail outlets have fled the core, adding to the problems. The media tries to make the homeless sound like victims but their behavior spells out that they are getting what they bargained for. Drop out of school, quit reading books, do drugs, never invest, and vote for free stuff—exactly what did they expect was going to happen?
The remaining picture is the carpet sweeper. But for that brush fan belt, it is in great working shape. If the belts turn out too expensive (a common problem in America), the motor is destined for mounting in a fan case. I save the cases, as fans are another item that never lasts long in Florida. I think my record fan for daily use in the summers was a lousy four years.
The photo shows the sweeper lying on its side to be tested. I haven’t found the model number yet but it’s a nice unit and these appear to be priced at around $135. That would make it quite a nice find. The old radio is going in the shed, where I hear that freak, Barbara Streisand, is in the news again. She says Biden is a “gentle giant”, benevolently tending his beloved flock. Did you know she cloned her dog and has accused Trump of making her fat?
ADDENDUM
Eleven years ago Kokak went under. One of most disliked but not hated US companies, they controlled the film development process. The entire camera business was their oyster. I recall living in cities where the only way to get film or have it developed was Kodak. The only alternative was setting up your own darkroom, which never happened as I never had a place of my own. And the good cameras of the day, the 35mm SLR, were also expensive and required special cases and handling.
You had to make two trips minimum, a week apart, to get prints. The Kokak booth charged a deposit, so they never cared if you came back. (Kokak also added $1 to each roll of film.) More than a few times, that one week delay resulted in me never having enough money to go pick up my pictures. After a month, they threw your pictures out. There are maybe ten pictures of me in as many years during that era.
Last, today is the 7th anniversary of getting my hands on the deed to this property, the only time I bought in Florida. The significance here is described on that day, where I went along with all the bullshit just until I got my hands on that deed. The system tried all manner of coercion which took the form of holding back that all-important document until I signed a few more papers. This, went on for days while I was sleeping on the sofa in the cabin, which had no other furniture. I quickly spotted the ruse and went along until I got that title. Then I left and never went back.
