and a few extra !!!!!!!!!!!
phew, I feel better now. best not look at the forecast again.
I can't get all the rattling trim in the drivers side door of The Great White Whale glued together. even under load from a bunch of lumber and wedges holding them in. going to have to spend the weekend in Cheryl's car while mine chews on a tube of silicone rubber, I guess.
presuming she doesn't have another issue. brake lines to the back of the car rusted out while she was on the road yesterday. $300 later, the longest one with obvious leakage is replaced. there are others that need work. work best done by guys with hydraulic lifts and Mitchell manuals telling what the flat rate is for their labor.
I have some of that too, but no rust-outs yet.
now, about that weather. I am clamping the NSFW filters to the computer here with 20-ton jacks. rain all week, except when it's snow and sleet.
THAT IS AN EVIL PLOT, AND IT IS RUINING MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and of course, !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
grr.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
they're breakin' up that old gang of mine
I had tenuous ties to the glory days at WDAY-TV, the 60s and early 70s when I was old enough as a broadcast brat to know something special was happening there, and young enough to learn at the knees of the experts without getting handed any tasks. Warmed my back many an afternoon at the 7-foot racks of tubes in the microwaves, sync generators, and processors in Master Control waiting for Dad to take me home from riding the bus to the library. Read the wire services tick...tick... tick... tick at a time on the 50 characters per minute Teletypes. Jumped to the side when there were footsteps of somebody running down the halls or up the stairs so I didn't get trampled.
The days when a ratings disaster was a 71% share, and national lead in news ratings went as high as 87 and 93 percent. That is almost every damn TV in the viewing area, and at least one screen burning in each of the competitive stations. WDAY was NBC's highest-rated affiliate station in the early 70s year after year, and the gloom in 30 Rock was like they lost their licenses the day WDAY followed KSTP in jumping to ABC because NBC's geniuses thought they'd make more money cutting the affiliate payments for carrying network shows.
But I was there, splicing junk film, staying out of the way, and learning lots about life from the likes of Howard Graber, John Tilton, Al Kobul, Pete Fenney, Bob Aronson, and the gang. Including Marvin Bossart, Boyd Christensen, and Dewey Bergquist. And Dad, of course.
Last I heard, Aronson was retired in Florida. Couple decades ago, he was Rudy Perpich's Press Secretary, and part of the job entailed calling trusted contacts many weekends asking, "Got any idea where Rudy's at? State Patrol can't find him anywhere!" That Governor was pretty much prone to escaping to the back rooms and cabins Up Nort' and chatting with his friends.
The last domino beyond him fell yesterday, as Marv finally succumbed to the effects of Parkinson's disease. He got 42 years out of the place, on par with some of the greyest hairs in the history of the place. And he was a big part of the tradition of professionalism, community concern, and "get it right" that made WDAY not just an institution for having the oldest call letters in the Northwest US, but for being trustworthy. Gentle, fun-loving, a stickler for the right word in the right place with his copy, killed his Royal typewriter four or five times, the type bars flying off the fingers, until Gaffney's ran out of parts. "Cheap" jokes flew like sparrows in the spring, for he spent as much time as he could with his family and at the lake place. Among the last feet of film shot was a prank in which a couple kids were persuaded to do chores wearing T-shirts saying something like "Marv is Cheap," and that blue/green mess from bad film was slid into both the 6 and 10 PM newscasts around Marv's back.
Marv went from black and white TV to live satellite trucks. There were transistors in the chain of geegaws by the time he got to Fargo, breaking up the 1953 walls of tubes, but that's the only earthquake in the technology of the business he missed. And slid through them all on top, because that's just stuff. Reporting, writing, consulting, refining, questioning, and then presenting the news is unchanging.
The last of the lions from my era.
Requisat im Pace.
The days when a ratings disaster was a 71% share, and national lead in news ratings went as high as 87 and 93 percent. That is almost every damn TV in the viewing area, and at least one screen burning in each of the competitive stations. WDAY was NBC's highest-rated affiliate station in the early 70s year after year, and the gloom in 30 Rock was like they lost their licenses the day WDAY followed KSTP in jumping to ABC because NBC's geniuses thought they'd make more money cutting the affiliate payments for carrying network shows.
But I was there, splicing junk film, staying out of the way, and learning lots about life from the likes of Howard Graber, John Tilton, Al Kobul, Pete Fenney, Bob Aronson, and the gang. Including Marvin Bossart, Boyd Christensen, and Dewey Bergquist. And Dad, of course.
Last I heard, Aronson was retired in Florida. Couple decades ago, he was Rudy Perpich's Press Secretary, and part of the job entailed calling trusted contacts many weekends asking, "Got any idea where Rudy's at? State Patrol can't find him anywhere!" That Governor was pretty much prone to escaping to the back rooms and cabins Up Nort' and chatting with his friends.
The last domino beyond him fell yesterday, as Marv finally succumbed to the effects of Parkinson's disease. He got 42 years out of the place, on par with some of the greyest hairs in the history of the place. And he was a big part of the tradition of professionalism, community concern, and "get it right" that made WDAY not just an institution for having the oldest call letters in the Northwest US, but for being trustworthy. Gentle, fun-loving, a stickler for the right word in the right place with his copy, killed his Royal typewriter four or five times, the type bars flying off the fingers, until Gaffney's ran out of parts. "Cheap" jokes flew like sparrows in the spring, for he spent as much time as he could with his family and at the lake place. Among the last feet of film shot was a prank in which a couple kids were persuaded to do chores wearing T-shirts saying something like "Marv is Cheap," and that blue/green mess from bad film was slid into both the 6 and 10 PM newscasts around Marv's back.
Marv went from black and white TV to live satellite trucks. There were transistors in the chain of geegaws by the time he got to Fargo, breaking up the 1953 walls of tubes, but that's the only earthquake in the technology of the business he missed. And slid through them all on top, because that's just stuff. Reporting, writing, consulting, refining, questioning, and then presenting the news is unchanging.
The last of the lions from my era.
Requisat im Pace.
Monday, April 22, 2013
The Winter with Frickin' Lasers on its Head
this sucks. April 22nd. we had a forecast of maybe light rain for a week. Saturday, they changed it to rain/snow mix, up to a half inch Sunday night. Sunday, same. Sunday night at bedtime, they changed it to a Winter Storm Warning for 4-6 inches of snow Monday through Tuesday morning. this morning while I slept, they changed it to a 6-9 frickin' inches of goddam snow.
every time the grass peeks through, we get whaled again.
this is getting way old.
meanwhile, in Fargo, they are sandbagging for yet another record flood and making another half-million sandbags yet, for a total in the 2 million neighborhood. we expect a "light switch" Spring... from 9 inches of snow Monday to 70s on the weekend, and 50s and 60s in the long-range forecast. I think this forecast model is the Burns/Krusty Max Profit Model, where anything goes in Springfield as long as you can shake an extra buck out of somebody's pocket.
every time the grass peeks through, we get whaled again.
this is getting way old.
meanwhile, in Fargo, they are sandbagging for yet another record flood and making another half-million sandbags yet, for a total in the 2 million neighborhood. we expect a "light switch" Spring... from 9 inches of snow Monday to 70s on the weekend, and 50s and 60s in the long-range forecast. I think this forecast model is the Burns/Krusty Max Profit Model, where anything goes in Springfield as long as you can shake an extra buck out of somebody's pocket.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
my "rap name" is N. O. Soul
Hola, amigos, been a while since I rapped at ya, but they stopped paper copies of The Onion in the Twin Cities.
no, seriously, there isn't all that much happening since we basically completed DeBasement. two window blinds to install. and that's it. been downstairs watching TV, and when it's more interesting, watching the Cat Show on the floors, walls, furniture, plants, and other items all around us.
but then, this is The World's Least-Read Blog (tm), so who cares?
too cold and snowy to garden. too snowy and icy to go out to the shed and dig down to find the ham gear. had a week of jury duty blocked out. yawn. Cheryl is spending some weeks on the road doing union organizing, so it's been batch time at the old homestead.
have to prune a tree and blow out the driveway when it warms up tomorrow. when it really springs Spring around us, I have another antenna to sling, and some car repairs, and this and that and the third thing. and I really ought to install a cap on the sump well and plumb in an active radon reduction system.
but for now... our long-awaited time for relaxation is here.
oh, our cats. we had to rename them Bonnie and Clyde for the terrorizing they cause in the household ;) still haven't been able to corral them for the vet trip. Clyde is the cuddle cat in the morning, and Bonnie in the evening. in between, they are pretty much inseparable, like left side and right side.
no, seriously, there isn't all that much happening since we basically completed DeBasement. two window blinds to install. and that's it. been downstairs watching TV, and when it's more interesting, watching the Cat Show on the floors, walls, furniture, plants, and other items all around us.
but then, this is The World's Least-Read Blog (tm), so who cares?
too cold and snowy to garden. too snowy and icy to go out to the shed and dig down to find the ham gear. had a week of jury duty blocked out. yawn. Cheryl is spending some weeks on the road doing union organizing, so it's been batch time at the old homestead.
have to prune a tree and blow out the driveway when it warms up tomorrow. when it really springs Spring around us, I have another antenna to sling, and some car repairs, and this and that and the third thing. and I really ought to install a cap on the sump well and plumb in an active radon reduction system.
but for now... our long-awaited time for relaxation is here.
oh, our cats. we had to rename them Bonnie and Clyde for the terrorizing they cause in the household ;) still haven't been able to corral them for the vet trip. Clyde is the cuddle cat in the morning, and Bonnie in the evening. in between, they are pretty much inseparable, like left side and right side.
Monday, December 31, 2012
slap-happy new year!
Swimmingly fun holiday... we went to the wife's family gathering the weekend before Christmas. you know, the one where everybody falls over sick the day after?
bingo. we are both down with acute bronchitis, and finishing up Z-Paks. there were also flu and colds out of that one, amazingly for everybody being on their own two feet all day and having fun talks and nibbling constantly.
I have gone back to work, for to get your super-fat holiday pay for working holidays, you also have to be in the day before and the day after. it would appear at this point that 4 days doing nothing except sleeping and watching the cats dive into the Christmas tree and pop out like little cartoons, and eating Azithromycin and cough pills, has done wonders.
happy new year, watch out for that fiscal cliff!
bingo. we are both down with acute bronchitis, and finishing up Z-Paks. there were also flu and colds out of that one, amazingly for everybody being on their own two feet all day and having fun talks and nibbling constantly.
I have gone back to work, for to get your super-fat holiday pay for working holidays, you also have to be in the day before and the day after. it would appear at this point that 4 days doing nothing except sleeping and watching the cats dive into the Christmas tree and pop out like little cartoons, and eating Azithromycin and cough pills, has done wonders.
happy new year, watch out for that fiscal cliff!
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
old and new cats
we had to put Pumpkins down the Friday before thanksgiving... DKA, diabetic ketoacidosis, had him on a crash to dust, and it was the only merciful thing left for us. what a cuddlebug he was! -- but also a trial, as he almost never dumped in the litter, only urinated.
one very hard week befell, and last Saturday, Shawn texted some pictures of rescue cats that had just come in to a pet shop. we stopped by to see them Sunday after church, as well as critters in two others, on the way home. he called twice Sunday as I was wrestling with the impossible in fitting a handrail to DeBasement steps that would level out and curve around the wall at the landing. wrestling. impossible. to hell with it, and brought in a straight handrail that will run along the steps only.
as we were stripping off and breaking screws threading the holes for the critical two of 5 holders on the floor, shawn called back... and finally said, "If $260 is too much for you (Cheryl is a tightwad, she admits it) then I'll buy one for you."
it was 5:09, and the web said that the store closed at 6, so hustle-boom, off we went with the carrier in tow.
turns out they cut off adoptions at 4 pm, but we talked our way into it because if we picked up the kitties on a weekday, there would be no time for socialization basically until the weekend. our schedules suck.
so home came little George and Martha. I'd show them, except when they finally worked up the courage to leave the carrier and its thick warm fleece, they high-tailed it to a corner under the buffet. dark. hidden. sigh.
George finally worked up enough spunk to jump into the buffet where a bottom drawer used to exist, found he could climb up and get into the top drawer. Martha stayed behind. I had orange George pegged to be the chief troublemaker of the littermates.
turns out when there is exploring to do, grey Martha does it. almost all our once-a-day kitty sightings are Martha, tailed cautiously by George, who bolts for a hidey-hole as soon as he sees eyes of anybody else. Martha will linger briefly before disappearing in a streak.
so getting them to the vet on Saturday is going to be interesting. I set the appointment late morning, figuring it would be quite the search for today's hidey hole.
one very hard week befell, and last Saturday, Shawn texted some pictures of rescue cats that had just come in to a pet shop. we stopped by to see them Sunday after church, as well as critters in two others, on the way home. he called twice Sunday as I was wrestling with the impossible in fitting a handrail to DeBasement steps that would level out and curve around the wall at the landing. wrestling. impossible. to hell with it, and brought in a straight handrail that will run along the steps only.
as we were stripping off and breaking screws threading the holes for the critical two of 5 holders on the floor, shawn called back... and finally said, "If $260 is too much for you (Cheryl is a tightwad, she admits it) then I'll buy one for you."
it was 5:09, and the web said that the store closed at 6, so hustle-boom, off we went with the carrier in tow.
turns out they cut off adoptions at 4 pm, but we talked our way into it because if we picked up the kitties on a weekday, there would be no time for socialization basically until the weekend. our schedules suck.
so home came little George and Martha. I'd show them, except when they finally worked up the courage to leave the carrier and its thick warm fleece, they high-tailed it to a corner under the buffet. dark. hidden. sigh.
George finally worked up enough spunk to jump into the buffet where a bottom drawer used to exist, found he could climb up and get into the top drawer. Martha stayed behind. I had orange George pegged to be the chief troublemaker of the littermates.
turns out when there is exploring to do, grey Martha does it. almost all our once-a-day kitty sightings are Martha, tailed cautiously by George, who bolts for a hidey-hole as soon as he sees eyes of anybody else. Martha will linger briefly before disappearing in a streak.
so getting them to the vet on Saturday is going to be interesting. I set the appointment late morning, figuring it would be quite the search for today's hidey hole.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
I see I neglected to finish a story here
namely, the celebration trip to Cold Stone after I got the heat working in The Great White Whale of a car.
got there right at closing, they took pity on us and whipped a couple of treats. we got back in the car, headed over to Menards for some screws to help hold the car door together (lost one) and headed home.
slippery slope drive... the car was barely moving in forward. got home, started looking up transmission issues in Grand Marqs, and managed to get to work and back for two days.
Friday, really sloppy coming off a stop, ordered some likely parts online, and got a case of ATF. seems there is a generic gunk-up issue that resolves with a new filter and uprating from Dexron II/Mercon to Mercon V in the 1995 and later transmissions, a new variant.
the next weekend, after letting my car sit a week and using Cheryl's, blocked up the car and slid under yet again. I have jackstands, but they don't appear solid enough to me, I've wiggled the whole car underneath them. I jack the car up as needed, and slip an assembly of cut-up 6x8 and 8x8 landscape timber underneath the frame. once the jack goes down, I body-slam that side of the car. no movement, barely a ripple on a glass of water put on the hood, I'm ready to work underneath the thing.
cranked around the engine with a wrench on the crank pulley bolt until I had the drain plug for the torque converter handy, drained that thing and as much ATF as would seep over from the tranny, reinstalled with torque setting, and started taking the pan bolts out. an excellent opportunity, by the way, to get the last two sizes of micrometer torque wrenches I didn't have on sale at Harbor Freight. about a quart of ATF left in the pan, as well as a monster beard of little fine metal shavings on the pan magnet. was scraping those off for quite a while, it was like microfine mud.
swapped filters, cleaned the pan to eat out of, reinstalled everything, refilled, put the car back on the ground... mostly have reverse, no forward. Eric was in the vicinity, he came over and found another 2-1/2 quarts of ATF would go in while I revved the car, so the converter hadn't refilled. still no forward.
we ended up having a junkyard pull tranny shipped in to John's, and had them do the mechanicals. I don't have the strength on my back or side to wrestle a damn transmission around, even if I rent or buy a tranny jack. they have guys, hoists, and tools I don't. easy $500 decision there.
it's running, but I couldn't see the road going home in the dark, rainy night. next evening, put a headlight restoration kit in, realigned the lenses, all is well.
got there right at closing, they took pity on us and whipped a couple of treats. we got back in the car, headed over to Menards for some screws to help hold the car door together (lost one) and headed home.
slippery slope drive... the car was barely moving in forward. got home, started looking up transmission issues in Grand Marqs, and managed to get to work and back for two days.
Friday, really sloppy coming off a stop, ordered some likely parts online, and got a case of ATF. seems there is a generic gunk-up issue that resolves with a new filter and uprating from Dexron II/Mercon to Mercon V in the 1995 and later transmissions, a new variant.
the next weekend, after letting my car sit a week and using Cheryl's, blocked up the car and slid under yet again. I have jackstands, but they don't appear solid enough to me, I've wiggled the whole car underneath them. I jack the car up as needed, and slip an assembly of cut-up 6x8 and 8x8 landscape timber underneath the frame. once the jack goes down, I body-slam that side of the car. no movement, barely a ripple on a glass of water put on the hood, I'm ready to work underneath the thing.
cranked around the engine with a wrench on the crank pulley bolt until I had the drain plug for the torque converter handy, drained that thing and as much ATF as would seep over from the tranny, reinstalled with torque setting, and started taking the pan bolts out. an excellent opportunity, by the way, to get the last two sizes of micrometer torque wrenches I didn't have on sale at Harbor Freight. about a quart of ATF left in the pan, as well as a monster beard of little fine metal shavings on the pan magnet. was scraping those off for quite a while, it was like microfine mud.
swapped filters, cleaned the pan to eat out of, reinstalled everything, refilled, put the car back on the ground... mostly have reverse, no forward. Eric was in the vicinity, he came over and found another 2-1/2 quarts of ATF would go in while I revved the car, so the converter hadn't refilled. still no forward.
we ended up having a junkyard pull tranny shipped in to John's, and had them do the mechanicals. I don't have the strength on my back or side to wrestle a damn transmission around, even if I rent or buy a tranny jack. they have guys, hoists, and tools I don't. easy $500 decision there.
it's running, but I couldn't see the road going home in the dark, rainy night. next evening, put a headlight restoration kit in, realigned the lenses, all is well.
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