Friday, February 12, 2010
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Monday, February 01, 2010
Where the F have I been?
Well... shit, I have been spending most of my time in the garage. That jeep is a time robbing whore. I am still in love... Actually, I would post some pictures, but to be honest, it still looks like a pile of rusting metal. Turns out you can put shit tons of time, money, and effort into a 68 year old car and it still looks like you haven't done anything. I just like to think that I am keeping her as a sleeper! I expect with some of the internal engine mods I have done she will be pulling about 70 horses at the crank! So no pictures till I waste some 5.0 Mustangs.
I kind of have a mechanical objects fetish. (Not like that you sick bastards!) I mean like watches, cars, guns, typewriters, aircraft, outboard motors, steam engines, and motorcycles... (This is why I am always going to need a bigger garage.) Basically I love anything that has small metal parts and can rust. The only exception to this is the bicycle. I haven't been interested in bicycles since I first figured out that you can slide a 92 Ford Explorer sideways through empty University of Washington football stadium parking lots. I am pretty sure my dad saw a spike in tire wear when I got my license. Either way, It wasn't that I wasn't interested in peddle bikes before. I even rode similar bikes to the cars I eventually would lower residential property values with. When I was in High School, I used to ride a 1940's bike all over Seattle and had about the same reputation as I do when I do rolling a 1976 Buick. Just imagine the wicked witch bike from the "Wizard of Oz" and you will have exactly the bike I used to ride correctly in your mind. What I am getting around to saying is that since I could afford to operate self-propelled vehicles, I have been totally neglecting the bicycle as a fetish object.
SHIT! Now that I think about it, they are still telling stories about my sail bike at the Gladstone yacht club! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!?!?!
Anyways, Bicycles recently came back into my life...
So there I was, drinking... when I get the call from UPS, "Dude, where are you? Come out and drink as it is a day that ends in "Y"!" How could I argue with that logic... unfortunately like I said I had already been drinking, and a bright orange 75 Cadillac ElDorado attracts cops like hornets to baby formula. I couldn't drive to the bar... what to do?!?!?
Stoke of GENIUS!!!!!
I borrow my associate's bike!
Holy shit!
I had forgotten how fast you can move on a bike! I was at the bar practically before my text that said I was on the way. No problems with parking, you can go a more direct path, don't have to follow arterials, etc. Many advantages! In addition it was a lot more fun that I had expected.
So, to sum up... with the exception of riding a bike with a flat tire to a bar in Dearborn Heights I haven't ridden a bike since high school. Now, I am in the market for a bike again. I would ride one every day to work except for that stupid base helmet rule.
If only I knew someone with knowledge about bikes... Oh well, I guess I'll have to figure it all out for myself. All I know is that I don't want any carbon fiber components in a bike and batteries explode.
And totally unrelated, I discovered through the magic of Facebook that a friend of mine from Garfield high school lives only a few blocks from me here in Albuquerque. She invited me to her and her husband's house for post-hangover-Sunday-Brunch. You don't have to have a hangover to attend, I didn't infact... but it is kind of a theme like Pirate parties... (I know, you all are wondering what happened to me that I didn't have a hangover on a Sunday morning. What can I say, I am getting old, but you can assume I am just getting really good.) Right here in the city she and her hubby have a Branch-Davidian style compound... right here in down town Albuquerque complete with dogs, workshops, and defensible walls. They even have chickens! I know were I am going when the zombies come. Surprisingly, she has hardly changed at all since high school... she said the same about me. It felt remarkably like a high school lunch with better food.
All hail FACEBOOK...
Well, those few tidbits hardly explain where the hell I have been for the last few months. I have also been part of an imaginary air campaign in the made up country of Cimaria. I swear I am not making that up... they are even paying me to do it.
For various reasons most of my CV-22 Osprey training is done in the simulator. To make things a bit more interesting the missions they have us do in the simulator get progressively more more complex... basically harder. Also, it follows a scripted campaign in the imaginary country of Cimaria. (I thought we should invade Limnathia but apparently we are now allies with them these days.) It is a lot like the flying video games where you have to fly missions all through WW2 or something like that. Start off getting bombed at Pearl Harbor and fly all the way through the end of the war... Anyways, the situation seems to be deteriorating in the imaginary country of Cimaria. We started off just flying milk-runs of humanitarian aid and doctors around the country, but we just had the class on how to run the defensive systems of the Osprey and I think the shit is about to hit the fan. The last few simulator missions haven't quite been taking medical supplies to refugee camps anymore. I hope the government of Cimaria gets there shit together or I am going to have to actually study how all these electronic doodads work in this flying tupperware computer-lab.
I kind of have a mechanical objects fetish. (Not like that you sick bastards!) I mean like watches, cars, guns, typewriters, aircraft, outboard motors, steam engines, and motorcycles... (This is why I am always going to need a bigger garage.) Basically I love anything that has small metal parts and can rust. The only exception to this is the bicycle. I haven't been interested in bicycles since I first figured out that you can slide a 92 Ford Explorer sideways through empty University of Washington football stadium parking lots. I am pretty sure my dad saw a spike in tire wear when I got my license. Either way, It wasn't that I wasn't interested in peddle bikes before. I even rode similar bikes to the cars I eventually would lower residential property values with. When I was in High School, I used to ride a 1940's bike all over Seattle and had about the same reputation as I do when I do rolling a 1976 Buick. Just imagine the wicked witch bike from the "Wizard of Oz" and you will have exactly the bike I used to ride correctly in your mind. What I am getting around to saying is that since I could afford to operate self-propelled vehicles, I have been totally neglecting the bicycle as a fetish object.
SHIT! Now that I think about it, they are still telling stories about my sail bike at the Gladstone yacht club! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!?!?!
Anyways, Bicycles recently came back into my life...
So there I was, drinking... when I get the call from UPS, "Dude, where are you? Come out and drink as it is a day that ends in "Y"!" How could I argue with that logic... unfortunately like I said I had already been drinking, and a bright orange 75 Cadillac ElDorado attracts cops like hornets to baby formula. I couldn't drive to the bar... what to do?!?!?
Stoke of GENIUS!!!!!
I borrow my associate's bike!
Holy shit!
I had forgotten how fast you can move on a bike! I was at the bar practically before my text that said I was on the way. No problems with parking, you can go a more direct path, don't have to follow arterials, etc. Many advantages! In addition it was a lot more fun that I had expected.
So, to sum up... with the exception of riding a bike with a flat tire to a bar in Dearborn Heights I haven't ridden a bike since high school. Now, I am in the market for a bike again. I would ride one every day to work except for that stupid base helmet rule.
If only I knew someone with knowledge about bikes... Oh well, I guess I'll have to figure it all out for myself. All I know is that I don't want any carbon fiber components in a bike and batteries explode.
And totally unrelated, I discovered through the magic of Facebook that a friend of mine from Garfield high school lives only a few blocks from me here in Albuquerque. She invited me to her and her husband's house for post-hangover-Sunday-Brunch. You don't have to have a hangover to attend, I didn't infact... but it is kind of a theme like Pirate parties... (I know, you all are wondering what happened to me that I didn't have a hangover on a Sunday morning. What can I say, I am getting old, but you can assume I am just getting really good.) Right here in the city she and her hubby have a Branch-Davidian style compound... right here in down town Albuquerque complete with dogs, workshops, and defensible walls. They even have chickens! I know were I am going when the zombies come. Surprisingly, she has hardly changed at all since high school... she said the same about me. It felt remarkably like a high school lunch with better food.
All hail FACEBOOK...
Well, those few tidbits hardly explain where the hell I have been for the last few months. I have also been part of an imaginary air campaign in the made up country of Cimaria. I swear I am not making that up... they are even paying me to do it.
For various reasons most of my CV-22 Osprey training is done in the simulator. To make things a bit more interesting the missions they have us do in the simulator get progressively more more complex... basically harder. Also, it follows a scripted campaign in the imaginary country of Cimaria. (I thought we should invade Limnathia but apparently we are now allies with them these days.) It is a lot like the flying video games where you have to fly missions all through WW2 or something like that. Start off getting bombed at Pearl Harbor and fly all the way through the end of the war... Anyways, the situation seems to be deteriorating in the imaginary country of Cimaria. We started off just flying milk-runs of humanitarian aid and doctors around the country, but we just had the class on how to run the defensive systems of the Osprey and I think the shit is about to hit the fan. The last few simulator missions haven't quite been taking medical supplies to refugee camps anymore. I hope the government of Cimaria gets there shit together or I am going to have to actually study how all these electronic doodads work in this flying tupperware computer-lab.
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