Over the Road

 I went to the Ham class yesterday morning and had to pull off the road on the way over to let a big trailer load go by. It took up both lanes of the state highway. I don't have any idea what it actually was but most of it was covered in sheet metal like it had insulation under it. Along the side that went by me was a pipe manifold of some sort with 6 or 8 ports maybe 10-12 inches in diameter. It had to be super heavy because it was loaded on one of those long trailers that have a bunch of axles under it and there was another semi tractor being used as a pusher with a big chunk of concrete where the 5th wheel plate normally would be to give it traction.

The meeting went well. There were a few more people this week in attendance, most all of whom were retirees. Most any age can get a Ham license, but I'm guessing like a lot of other things, tough to get young people interested. However, as I understand it, Ham radio is doing a lot more digital communication that is handled by computers and the internet which might interest young people. That doesn't exactly appeal to me at the present time but maybe as I find out more about it, I might change my mind.

I did a little welding job for the son of my brother from a different mother when I got home. It was a piece for a baby crib made from a piece of paper-thin tubing with a U-shaped bracket on one end. Didn't take too long to weld it up but it was one of those jobs that required a steady hand. Fortunately, I've still got that but the trouble with my eye is a bit of a handicap. This getting old stuff is getting old.

Since I'm limited in what I'm able to do these days, I decided to do some photography work. I loaded up an exposed roll of film in the can and will mix up some developer in the next couple of days and get it developed. I've got another roll in a camera that I need to shoot a couple more frames yet and then get that one developed as well. After that, pick out a few good shots and make some prints. It's been a while since I've done any darkroom work. Maybe get the 4x5 out and shoot a few shots with it in the near future as well. As long as I'm going to have fresh chemicals, might as well try and get the creative juices flowing. Whole different ball game than just snapping digital photos with my phone.

"I Am Done"

 The following is from Running 'Cause I Can't Fly blog. He's posted this on several occasions and I think I might have posted it once before myself, but it bears repeating. It's a bit dated now, but the sentiment is still the same - in fact, probably even more so. It pretty much sums up my feelings on the current state of affairs as well. Things for the average working stiff have gone from bad to worse and we haven't seen the worst of it yet.

                                                "I Am Done"
                                                by OHMama

"I was born at the end of Gen X and the beginning of the Millennial Generation, and grew up in a middle class town. Life was good. Our home was modest but birthdays and Christmas were always generous, we went on yearly vacations, had 2 cars, and there was enough money for me to take dance classes and art lessons and be in Girl Scouts.

My 1940s born Dad raised me to be patriotic and proud, to love the war bird airplanes of his era as much as he does, and to respect our flag and our country as a sacred thing. I grew up thinking that being an American was the greatest gift a person could have. I grew up thinking that our country was as strong, and honest and true as my Dad. I grew up thinking I was free.

As an adult, I have witnessed the world I grew up in fall to ruin. I have watched as our currency and our economy have been shamelessly corrupted beyond redemption. Since we’ve been married, my husband and I TWICE had our meager investment savings gutted by the market that we were told to invest in, now that pensions no longer exist and we working stiffs are on our own. We will be working until we die, because the Social Security we’ve been forced to pay into has also been robbed from under us.

I have watched as our elected officials enter Congress as ordinary folks and leaves as multi millionaires. I have watched my blue collar husband get up at an ungodly hour every day and come home with an aching back that we pray will hold out long enough to get him to old age in one piece. Outside of shoes, socks and underwear, almost everything my family wears was bought used. We’ve been on one vacation in 12 years.

We don’t have cell phones, or cable, or any sort of streaming services, just a landline and internet. We hardly ever eat out. Our house is 1400 square feet, no air conditioning. I cook from scratch and I can and I garden and I raise chickens for eggs and meat and I moonlight selling things on Etsy. Still it is barely enough to pay the bills that go up every year while service quality and the longevity of goods goes down. What I just described is the life you can live on 60K a year without going into debt.

At last calculation, when you consider all of the federal, state and local taxes plus registration and user fees, Medicare and SS payroll taxes, almost a third of what my family earns is stolen by the govt each year. What’s left doesn’t go far, just enough to cover the basics and save a little for when the wolf howls at the door.

I watched as my family’s health insurance was gutted and destroyed. Our private market insurance, which we had to have because my husband’s employer is too small to have a group plan, was made illegal. We were left with the option of either buying an Obamacare plan with unaffordable deductibles and insanely ridiculous out of pocket maxes, or paying the very gov’t that destroyed our healthcare a fine for not buying the gov’t mandated plan that we cannot afford. We now have short term insurance that isn’t really insurance at all, and I live in fear of one of us getting injured or sick with anything I can’t fix from the medicine cabinet.

I have watched as education, which was already sketchy when I was a kid, became an all out joke of wholly unmathematical math, gold stars for all, and self-loathing anti-Americanism. My family has taken an enormous financial hit as I stay home to home school our child. At least she’ll be able to do old-fashioned math well enough to see how much they are screwing her. A silver lining to every cloud, I guess.

I’ve sat by and held my tongue as I was called deplorable and a bitter clinger and told that I didn’t build that. I’ve been called a racist and a xenophobe and a chump and even an “ugly folk.” I’ve been told that I have privilege, and that I have inherent bias because of my skin color, and that my beloved husband and father are part of a horrible patriarchy. Not one goddamn bit of that is true, but if I dare say anything about it, it will be used as evidence of my racism and white fragility.

Raised to be a Republican, I held my nose and voted for Bush, the Texas-talking blue blood from Connecticut who lied us into 2 wars and gave us the unpatriotic Patriot Act. I voted for McCain, the sociopathic neocon songbird “hero” that torpedoed the attempt to kill the Obamacare that’s killing my family financially. I held it again and voted for Romney, the vulture capitalist skunk that masquerades as a Republican while slithering over to the Democrat camp as often as they’ll tolerate his oily, loathsome presence.

And I voted for Trump, who, if he did nothing else, at least gave a resounding Bronx cheer to the richly deserving smug hypocrites of DC. Thank you for that Mr. President, on behalf of all of us nobodies. God bless you for it.

And now I have watched as people who hate me and mine and call for our destruction blatantly and openly stole the election and then gaslighted us and told us that it was honest and fair. I am watching as the GOP does NOTHING about it. They’re probably relieved that upstart Trump is gone so they can get back to their real jobs of lining their pockets and running interference for their corporate masters. I am watching as the media, in a manner that would make Stalin blush, is silencing anyone who dares question the legitimacy of this farce they call democracy. I know, it’s a republic, but I am so tired of explaining that to people I might as well give in and join them in ignorance.

I will not vote again; they’ve made it abundantly clear that my voice doesn’t matter. Whatever irrational, suicidal lunacy the nanny states thinks is best is what I’ll get. What it decided I need is a geriatric pedophile who shouldn’t be charged with anything more rigorous than choosing between tapioca and rice pudding at the old folks home, and a casting couch skank who rails against racism while being a descendant of slave owners.

I’m free to dismember a baby in my womb and kill it because “my body my choice”, but God help me if I won’t cover my face with a germ laden Linus-worthy security blanket or refuse let them inject genetically altering chemicals into my body or my child’s. I can be doxed, fired, shunned and destroyed for daring to venture that there are only 2 genders as proven by DNA, but a disease with a 99+% survival rate for most humans is a deadly pandemic worth murdering an economy over. Because science. Idiocracy is real, and we are living it. Dr. Hannibal Lecter would be an improvement over Fauci.

I am done. Don’t ask me to pledge to the flag, or salute the troops, or shoot fireworks on the 4th. It’s a sick, twisted, heartbreaking joke, this bloated, unrecognizable corpse of a republic that once was ours.

I am not alone. Not sure how things continue to function when millions of citizens no longer feel any loyalty to or from the society they live in.

I was raised to be a lady, and ladies don’t curse, but f**k these motherf**kers to hell and back for what they’ve done to me, and mine, and my country. All we Joe Blow Americans ever wanted was a little patch of land to raise a family, a job to pay the bills, and at least some illusion of freedom, and even that was too much for these human parasites. They want it all, mind, body and soul. Damn them. Damn them all."

It's interesting to note, depending on which state you live in, it's about the time you hit Tax Freedom Day. Meaning that for the first four months of the year you've worked to pay taxes for the various levels of government. Even most high-schoolers can do math to figure out you have to give a third of all your earnings away with only a minimum of input on your part as to what they do with the money. 

I don't like the idea my tax dollars helped underwrite the development of covid-19 or that they are being used to support the war in Ukraine and the Middle East. I'm not very comfortable being an accessory to murder. My feelings towards the grifters in Washington are much the same as OHMama: damn them to hell and back.

Southbound

 

Not a bad idea, what with the chilly weather we're having. It was a decent day yesterday except it was 25 or 30 degrees below what the average normally is for this time of year. 

I went to the cardiologist yesterday for my check-up. That part came out OK but he didn't offer much help with the chest trouble. In fact, when I brought the subject up he thought perhaps it might be best to have another stress test. I've had a couple of them in the past but this one will be the chemical type. Because of the time that has elapsed since I had the heart attack and the stents installed, he said it may be time to go back in again. I doubt that but every time I mention that I've got pains in my chest everyone in the medical field assumes I'm having heart issues. None of them seem to listen to the part about tearing muscles. Anyway, this will be one more test that hopefully confirms there isn't anything else wrong with me.

What with the cold weather and all the doctor's visits, I was fortunate to hear about the Ham license class when I did - plenty of time to read the manual. I'm about halfway through it, much of which I really don't understand. Going to the prep classes I'm sure will help but I'm definitely going to have to study. Fortunately, after all the classes I've taken over the years, I'm pretty good at taking tests. I'll just have to put in the effort.

Pocket Knife

I carry a pocket knife all the time, I've fixed a lot of things and worked hard for a living. I wouldn't describe myself as one who would stand fearless in the face of a world full of evil, however. I'm more of the type who just wants to be left alone. 

When I went to the fights the other night, I didn't even think about having to go through a metal detector. I lost a knife at the White Sox game a few years back because of the metal detector. It was too far to go back to the car and the knife, while it was a nice one, was a promotional item I got from sending in 50 cents and a couple of wrappers from Peppermint Patties. Even though I gave it up, I still had two more in the lock box, so not a big loss. 

The one I'm carrying now is a promotional item as well. It's from Copenhagen tobacco with micarta scales, brass bolsters and a small inlaid plate inscribed with Copenhagen. I don't remember what the cost was but I had to send in a few lids from cans of Copenhagen, which wasn't a problem. I just put out the call to the boys in the welding classes and I had plenty in short order. 

When I saw the metal detector the other night, I thought for sure I was going to lose another one, but I tossed it in the tub and dumped my pocket changes and keys in on top of it right away. I don't know if security saw it or not but I made it in without losing it. It's a nice knife and plenty handy - two blades and made by Schrade in the USA. It would have been a shame to lose it. I just need to remember these are different times than when I used to go to events when I was younger.

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I've got a visit with the cardiologist today for a checkup. According to his bio he's an interventional cardiologist so I'm thinking if he opens people up for heart surgeries, he might be able to shed a little light on my chest problem or at least point in the direction of someone who can. Here's hoping.

 

Bit O' Funk

 

Not the kind of music I normally listen to, but I sure could. 

While I was out in the shop the other day the radio had an announcement about a ham radio prep class that was starting on Saturday. I looked it up on their website after getting back in the house for the details and I decided I was never going to get a better opportunity to get my license than this deal. Four Saturday mornings for the prep, exam on the fifth. Classes held only 20 miles away as well. So I showed up yesterday morning, and I'm on my way to having a ham radio license. 

Later in the day, Coach Jen, myself and another guy from the gym headed to Indy for the fights. The guy in the white trunks is Johnny "Ironsides" Morrison who boxed out of our gym as an amateur and is now undefeated as a pro after four bouts. The three of us had a good time. The fights started early enough that we could stop on the way home at Nine Irish Brothers.

I broke training and had Bangers & Mash and washed it down with a half and half class of Guiness and Yuengling. Pretty heavy meal for so late in the day but it was tasty and I brought half of it home. I've been wanting to go to this place for quite a while, glad we could get there. Damn good day for me. 

A little Bit of Productivity

 Still having trouble with the chest but I'm feeling lucky just the same. Therefore, I entered a raffle for a '67 Corvette - 327/350 with a 4 speed. I've never owned a 'Vette but I did have an Impala SS with a 327 and a 4 speed. Lots of fun. You too can take a chance but the raffle ends today.

Did a little machining job yesterday for the high school high mileage team. Nothing much to it - just drill and tap a couple of 1/2-20 holes in the end of the spindles. The team came in second at the Shell contest in Indy recently, which qualified them to move on to the next round in Lafayette in about a month. I didn't get a chance to go with them to Indy, but I'm hoping to go to Lafayette to spectate for a day.

Speaking of machining, I'm making a bit of progress on splining the shift lever. According to the manual, one revolution of the dial spins the table 4 degrees, each individual mark on the dial is one minute, and the vernier markings are 10 seconds. However, it seems that each mark on the dial is actually 2 minutes and the vernier markings represent 20 seconds. I'm still working on the first piece to double check the spacing and the diameter of the bore before scrapping a second one. It should go pretty quickly now that I've got everything figured out - it says here in the fine print.

Splines

 

I started cutting the spline in the shift lever. If you look close you can see a couple of cuts having been made. I started making the tool by grinding but it wasn't working out real well. I have a spacer head on the mill so I put my piece of stock in there and I got a very accurate 60 degree shape centered on the rod. I had previously centered the machine over the rotary table so I had to re-center it after making the cutting tool. Before moving the table, however, I set the dials on the table feeds to zero. I moved the table back to the zero marks on the dials, but I checked center with the little tool I made and the wiggler just to be sure. I'm not sure what the depth of cut should be on the vee cuts, but I set an indicator to measure the depth of cuts. Right now I'm going .020" deep, meaning I'll probably have to make at least two passes. I'm having a little trouble deciphering the vernier scale to get the reading on the seconds - that is the subdivision of the minutes. I keep thinking of the old machinist joke when cutting a gear. When he gets around the circumference and gets to the end cut, he asks the boss "Do you want one big tooth, or two little ones." It might come to that.

Unsolicited Magazines

 

Since I started Social Security, I also started getting unsolicited magazines in the mail. I'm assuming the feds sell the list to magazine publishers like they do to the Medicare insurance companies. The subscription prices of the magazines are usually rock bottom but other than Motor Trend, I've never received one I was interested in subscribing to or even reading for free. Case in point: GQ. First of all, my clothing expenditures probably average less than $200.00 per year. I splurged on the Raleigh bicycle jersey, but that will probably be the extent of my clothing purchases for the year, so I'm still under budget. Secondly, I didn't recognize any of the names on the cover with the exception of Lewis Hamilton. 

The fashions displayed in the magazine are not what the well-dressed welder would be wearing, either in the shop or when putting on the dog. I certainly would have been over-dressed had I showed up at the boxing matches Thursday night in one of those outfits. I do plan on reading the article about Lewis Hamilton. As a seven-time world F-1 champion, might make for interesting reading. Probably won't address much of his racing exploits, though.

Long Day

 I had to get up at 5:30 yesterday morning to make my appointment for the root canal. Stopped at the bakery, Aldi and Menards on the way home. Had a little breakfast and then left the house at noon to take the dog to the groomer. Slight break, then massage appointment at 1:30. One more slight break and then off to the Golden Gloves at 3:45, and then home at midnight. Fortunately, since I mostly do nothing these days, I was well rested going in and can sleep till noon today. Saw some good fights, by the way. Not sure what's on the agenda today - have to see what time I drag my ass out of bed.

Clapper Caper

 

Surly and the grandson have been helping my wife's sister move. She has a bunch of farm/school house bells that belonged to their grandfather. I was there Tuesday to move some junk and I told the grandson about the Jack Webb Copper Clapper story. I went back last evening to help and the wife's sister told the boy about the same story. It's a classic.

Here's two of the heaviest ones. I took the trailer to make transporting them a bit easier. Plus, I had a yard swing to bring back to my house. This is the first time the trailer I built had any load on it and was out on the highway. No problem other than I need to practice backing it up in the mirrors. I've got the tool box in the back of the truck so I have to use the mirrors to see what I'm doing. Seems I always turn the truck wheel the wrong way first. Probably be easier just to take the tool box out. Need to do that anyway if I want to load up my bicycle.

Things of Beauty

Beautiful day yesterday - couldn't ask for better weather if you wanted to view an eclipse. The Missus and I sat on the front porch, swapped the welding helmet back and forth between us and enjoyed the afternoon. While we weren't in the exact path to get 100% totality, it was at least 80%.

One of the TIG welds on the handle extension for the CSA cart. Nothing to this job. My biggest concern was the effect pulling on the handle of the bender was going to have on my chest. Surprisingly enough, I bent the handle pieces Saturday morning, then did poop patrol, and after that picked up a bunch of sticks in the yard so the grandson could mow. I spent a lot of time moving around and bending over but my chest didn't hurt Saturday evening. I didn't do much Sunday, mostly due to the weather, but I was out tinkering yesterday and felt good all day. Felt good to feel good.

Today's supposed to be a nice day again, and since I'm feeling pretty healthy, I'm going to hang a light in the wood shop and grind the tool bit for the spline on the shift lever. Don't know how the job is going to turn out, but I want to get that bike done and then get back on the jitney project. I've got plenty to do on that one that doesn't require heavy lifting, but if I need some help, I can have the grandson give me a hand when he comes to mow. 

Blossom Time

 

Magnolia

Weeping Cherry

It's blossom time around here as well. However, the weather's been a bit on the erratic side. We had some nice weather but last week was cold and rainy - frost on the ground a couple of mornings and even some mushy rain/almost snow. Had all the rain been snow, yours truly would still be stuck in the house. No way I can shovel, might be able to run the tractor down the lane, though. It's supposed to be back up into the sixties in the upcoming week - I'm ready.

I got my watch sent off to Seiko last week and received an email a couple of days later stating they had received the watch and quoted the repair cost. Actually, I was able to get the quote from their web site prior to sending it in, so no surprise. 

Made the handle extensions for the little carts for the CSA. Nothing to the job itself, just needed to go easy on the chest. Felt good to do something productive out in the shop. You can only go so easy and still get things done. 

Surly brought the grandson down Saturday and cut the grass for me. It took him a little while to get the hang of the zero-turn mower, but he's willing to keep mowing for as long as I need him. I'm real lucky I've got such a good support team.

Hoping the weather's decent this afternoon for eclipse viewing. There seems to be a lot of hype for this event. Since I'm a welder, I've got plenty of dark lenses to safely view it. The emergency rooms should be busy with "flash" burns later this evening, though. 

Tenderloins

 Cuzzin Ricky, TVI and I went to Our Place Restaurant in Brook, Indiana on Thursday in search of the elusive pork tenderloin sandwich. The restaurant stands out on Main Street like a diamond in a pig's ass. It's a new business in a town that is struggling to stay alive judging by all the closed storefronts on Main. The Missus and I went to Brook several times years ago for their 4th of July Festival. It wasn't exactly a boom town then but most of the storefronts were occupied. I did a 5K race there in 2017 that was part of a four-race series in the county - three of which were in small towns during their festivals and the other during the county fair. If you did all four you got a free tee shirt. 

The restaurant truly was a bright spot though. Nice place inside, the sandwiches and the service were good, and the prices were quite reasonable. Big-ass tenderloin, fries and a drink for $11.00, with enough leftover tenderloin for another meal at home. The Missus and I are planning on going back one of these days for dinner. If I get the chest straightened out, I'll ride the Sportster down there for breakfast some day. 

Earlier Thursday morning I had a consultation with another medical professional concerning my chest. With my medical history she's of the opinion it wouldn't be a bad idea to get a scope done on my throat to see what's going on down there. She's inclined to think my problem is musculoskeletal, however. I'm at the point now that even though my doc is pretty much chasing her tail, I'm getting some tests done that may prove valuable in the future. In the meantime, I'm going to pursue a couple of other venues in search of the guy who says you've got torn muscles, we need to stitch them back together. 

Bomb Shelter

 

Growing up in the fifties and sixties, bomb shelters were a real thing. I remember going to the county fair and they had one built right outside one of the buildings that housed exhibits. The schools I attended had the yellow fallout shelter signs on them, and I assume they had supplies stashed away somewhere for the students and nearby residents in the event of a nuclear event. I've been reading quite a bit about the chances of just such an event happening in the near future. There's a lot more ways to make that happen - doesn't need to be just one big one like Hiroshima, could be lots of little ones sprinkled around the country. If they could fly planes into multiple targets like on 9-11, no reason they couldn't do a similar thing with some sort of nuclear device. Especially since who knows who has snuck across the border - could be a couple of physicists from China in among the millions. 

I'm not overly concerned having lived through the Khrushchev years, but I've pretty much lost all faith in the federal government looking out for my well being. Even if I lived through an initial blast in the Chicago or Whiting, IN area, the long term effects would be enough to probably finish me and millions of others off - radioactive soil, nuclear winter - I'm going to run out of beans long before I'll be able to eat fruit from the trees and grow any vegetables. I imagine the chickens won't survive either.

I ran across an interesting article that got me thinking about all this, as well as several other blogs I read on a regular basis and the Retired Teachers Association newsletter that came in the mail yesterday. While I doubt seriously there's much I can do to prepare for a nuclear attack, I did follow the linked  article's advice when I was younger, and it works, whether you're preparing for war or peace. Might want to check it out. 

I Remember You

 

And I remember this one from Frank Ifield back in the day. I don't remember hearing any other of his recordings on the radio, however. 

I never would have guessed after hearing I Remember You that he was a kick-ass yodeler but that's just one more gap in my upbringing. In my defense, however, your musical choices were pretty limited back when I was growing up. There was some country music to be had out of Chicago on both the radio and television. My dad wasn't a big fan and rock and roll was happening on both of the two big AM stations, so that's where I was tuned in most of the time. DJ's Clark Weber and Dick Biondi the two big names in the market probably never played a yodel during their entire careers. If I'm going to be on light duty for a while yet, I might wish to work on learning how to yodel as well as learning some more Italian.

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We had lovely weather for Easter yesterday - warm and sunny. Surly was kind enough to come down and get the raccoon in the live trap down out of the shop attic for me. I didn't think that was going to be good for me, especially since I over did it a bit Saturday. Not the usual Easter Sunday gathering, but I didn't celebrate the Transgender Day of Visibility either. 

I don't normally get too wound up over politics and I normally steer clear of religion here but for Slo-Joe to declare Easter Sunday as the day to recognize transgenders is just too much for me. For a guy who is supposed to be a devout Catholic, this is way out there in left field. Apparently, nothing is sacred anymore. 

Hoping to get out in the shop today and do a little something. Maybe a couple of little somethings.