The Eclectic Dragonfly

While it was actually on the 2^nd of July 1776 that the Continental Congress meeting in Philadelphia voted to accept the wording of the draft Declaration of Independence, it took two days to have copies printed for the signing to be brought back to the thirteen former colonies, now declared independent states. It would be several years of bitter conflict before the former colonial master would grudgingly accept our independence. In celebration of the courage of our forefathers in standing up for what they believed I offer a link to a musical tribute posted by someone else over at YouTube.

Enjoy, and Happy 4^th of July!

While we’re at it, here’s what all the fuss was about:

The Declaration of Independence

Image of the original document 

Transcript

Yesterday my Mum turned Sweet Sixteen again.  Something she’s done every July 2^nd since 1949.  I must admit I expressed a degree of skepticism back on December 16, 1976 when I turned seventeen, but Mum insists.  Well, who am I to argue?

Last night Mum and I went for a ride in Thunder, who is back from his doctor having only cost me $1,332.54 for a whole pile of brake work and a few other necessary things.  We went out the back way to Westminster where we were looking to see if the guy we got a Nordictrack cross country ski machine from had the other goodies out front that we didn’t have room for in Galileo on Sunday.  He didn’t, so we went off in search of dinner.  (More on my plans for the Nordictrack later…)  I had been thinking to try The Old Mill.  Mum has told me about going there as a kid and how she loved it.  We have been planning to go there to celebrate buying our first investment property.  That seems to be taking longer than we had intended, so I thought that the occasion of Mum’s birthday would be a good reason to go there.  Being a Monday they weren’t open.  OK, time for Plan B.

“Mum, where would you like to eat?”

“Well, there is a place just before the turn to go to Hubbardston that looked busy.  That’s always a good sign.  Lets try there.”

So we continued on our way out to Gardner.

When we got there they were indeed busy.  There was a motorcycle and a whole bunch of cars parked out front.  Our parking space was available.  (Mum has a hard time getting around these days, so she has a ‘gimp tag’ for the car that lets us get the best parking spot.  Thanks Mum!)  The signage sounded like a Mexican grill/bar.  Not the sort of place to bring Mum for her birthday dinner, I thought.  Since Mum didn’t sound that interested in trying the place after all, we went off in search of Plan Sea - as in seafood.

Mum had noticed a little place along side of Rt. 2a, I think back in Westminster, that looked busy.  Kay’s Seafood/Dairy Bar.  We ate there.  I’ve noticed the place driving by in the past, but never thought much about it.  What we’ve been missing!  The best way to describe it is that it’s a lot like going to Herraseket without having to drive to Freeport Maine!  We both had the fish and chips.  Wow!  There was enough haddock on our two plates for six meals at most other restaurants!  I’m not exaggerating here…  And it was good!  They don’t have an indoor dining room and the seating up half a flight of stairs to the porch is at picnic tables with attached benches.  Mum would have had a hard time with that so we ate in Thunder.  Mum had the back seat with the rear table swung out and I turned the front passenger seat around and set up the front table for myself.  We had the best seats I the house!  It was the first meal we’d shared in Thunder set up in his camping configuration.  Beats the heck out of spilling drinks all over Galileo’s interior!

The Worcester Telegram and Gazette has an article in their online edition that from the title I had expected to be a typical liberal rant about getting eeevvviiill guns off the streets.  When my computer, which is running very slow today processing a file for work*, finally let me read the article I was pleasantly surprised to see that the Worcester Chief of Police is actually looking for community involvement to go after the root of the problem.  Very good!  Now if we could only get people to listen to Bill Cosby…

Here’s the article.

* My apologies for using a for letter word…  ;-)

mood: bemused

Since the company I work for moved to our new location in what I call the Borg Cube, I’ve been driving on Rt. 495 every day going to and from work.  I’ve been noticing some trends in the behavior of other drivers.  Not just that there seem to be a lot of suicidal nut jobs out there either.  There are, but these are more generalized trends that I’m noticing.

For example I’ve noticed what I call the ‘crest of the hill slowdown.’  It seems that just as we approach the crest of a hill, any hill, that there are always a few brake lights from those ahead that have just crested the hill.  As a result, we all drop at least ten miles an hour.  The only reason I can fathom for this is that they are suddenly able to see a considerable distance up the highway and there are all these cars there!  They don’t seem to be moving relative to us, so we better get on the binders.  Oh, things are still moving.  Well, never mind…

Invariably and regardless of what hill we’re on.  If there is any view ahead they hit the brakes.

It seems that the ‘two second rule’ is a thing of the past.  I’ve written about that previously, so I won’t repeat myself here.

Merge and yield seem to have lost their meaning.  These days merge seems to mean jockey for position and block the other guy out.  Yield means prepare for battle.  On a related note the yellow light has in practice become ‘Speed up!  The red is coming!’ and turn signals are optional.  With the doing battle mentality out there turn signals seem actually to be discouraged since it gives the other guy the advantage of advance warning of what you are planning to do.  If they know ahead of time they can more effectively block you.

Then you get the center lane poker that holds everyone up.  If the average speed of the traffic around them is 75 they just have to go 60.  They think they’re being safe.  What they are actually doing is causing everyone in back of them to take evasive action to avoid plowing into them or each other as traffic piles up (sometimes literally) in their wake.  They seem to have absolutely no clue of what’s going on around them.

It’s sometimes fun to watch the ones that jump from lane to lane thinking they can go faster over there.  So often they wind up getting blocked out and end up falling behind where they would have been had they stayed in the lane they were in in the first place.  Other times they do get ahead, at least a little bit.  Usually I can see just how far they’ve gotten by watching them make more lane changes a little farther up the road.  The length of the highway section of my commute is short enough that I can usually still see them hopping from lane to lane by the time I’m heading for my exit.  And they haven’t really gotten that much further ahead for all of their effort.

Exit slowdowns are the worst.  The way the ramps are designed we have cars at highway speed trying to get to the exit on the same patch of ground where cars that are merging onto the highway are trying to accelerate to speed.  That’s where most of the blocking and jockeying for position takes place.  The idea seems to be that if you can get in front of the other guy, you’ve won, but regardless you can’t let him get in front of you even if you miss your exit as a result.  If people would just leave some following distance between themselves and the next car and blend across at relatively close speed to one another we could all just flow along to our destination.  But nOOoo!  The have to be scraping the bugs off the bumper of the next car in line and making dang sure that no one gets across in front of them!

Give me a break people!  No!  I don’t mean apply your brakes…  Oh what are we stopping for now?!

It is a vintage Sheridan "Blue Streak" single-shot pump pneumatic pellet rifle in .20 caliber.  All brass and steel with a nice gun blue finish and American Maple stock.  This gun is probably from the late ‘70s or early ‘80s.  They were first made nearly sixty years ago and are still in production today.  The Silver Streak is the same gun with a nickel chrome finish.

After sighting in the first time I took this gun to the range, while shooting off-hand from a standing position at about 35 feet, give or take a few, my six shot pattern was within 3/4" with one flyer (if you can call it that...) at 1 1/16"

I like this gun!

I hadn’t exactly set out to buy another gun Sunday…

We started out the morning at the Lancaster flea market, mostly so I could go to the Agway store there to get some spray to try to get rid of some vines I think may be poison ivy from the front ‘flowerbed’.  Weedbed might be more like it… 

Anyway, while we were there I had to pop in at the flea…  There were three tables I was interested in stopping at: 

Å      Steve and Kathy’s knife and sword table, mostly to say hi and see how they’re doing. 

Å      The cell phone and vinyl graphics table to say hi and see if any of my chainmaille bracelets have sold.  Steve and Kathy also have a couple of my bracelets and a pair of earrings.  I’m starting to think Lancaster is not the best venue for hand made jewelry. 

Å      I also wanted to see the airsoft guy to see if he had any pellet guns in stock.  In a weak moment I had asked about getting an Xisico XS-B5-10 but all he could find was the Industry Brand version.  I have two Industry Brand pellet guns and will not buy another one.  The ones with the BAM mark from Xisico are good guns.  Industry’s version of the same gun is crap.

So anyway, while I was heading from the cell phone guy’s table over to the airsoft guys space I wandered by the table next to the back door so I wouldn't have to fight my way through the crowd at the concession stand and what do I see but an old BB gun.  Cool!  Looks like I will be buying a gun this weekend after all!  I’ll tell you more about that $20 purchase after I shoot some pictures of it.

So anyway, I wander over to the airsoft guy’s place with an armload of BB gun to hear all about him only being able to get the Industry B5-10.  I tell him not to bother.  I don’t want it.  That order being canceled I’m off the hook and we can head on our way to Hollis.

I like the Hollis Flea Market way better than Lancaster.  The stuff there changes from week to week.  At the indoor flea in Lancaster it’s always the same old stuff.  Most of the venders there don’t even bother to rearrange things to make it look different from month to month much less week to week.  I usually only go to Lancaster if there’s nothing else open.  I think I’ll be cutting back on flea marketing in general for a while if we get that house…

So I’m wandering around Hollis not really looking for anything in particular.  I wasn’t even going to go up that row in the center of the ‘under the trees field’ when something tugged me back.  Some times you get that feeling.  There is something there calling to you.  “Come this way!  Look at me!”  It may be that something in the back of my alleged mind clicked and recognized the stuff that the guy I bought the Crossman “400” from had.  He was in a different space and the stuff was laid out differently and I have a bit of ‘face-blindness’ which makes it difficult to recognize even people I know in a context I’m not expecting to see them in, so it didn’t immediately click that that’s who this was until I got right up to his table.

And there, laying on the same tarp the “400” had been on, was my beatific Sheridan.  Since this is a pump pneumatic I was able – with the vendor’s permission – to give it two pumps and dry fire to make sure that this gun works.  I was amazed at how much sand flew from the empty rifle’s muzzle blast!  Looking it over it seemed very familiar.  I had not encountered one before, but it just seemed “right.”  When I looked at the markings stamped on the side of the receiver I understood why. 

My first really decent gun was a Sheridan HB-20 pistol that is very similar in construction and operation to the Blue Streak rifle.  I bought the HB-20 in very used and somewhat abused condition from State Line Gun Shop over in Mason.  They were somewhat reluctant to sell it since they don’t usually deal with guns in that poor condition.  But the price was right and despite its iron sights having been removed the gun felt 'right' and I went into the deal with both eyes open.  That old HB-20 has been one of my favorite guns ever since.  Amazingly, even with no sights I hit the 10 ring on my second shot ever with the gun.  No doubt a fluke, but I'll take it!

Seeing how closely related this rifle is to my favorite pistol I knew it would be coming home with me.  Mom may kill me* for buying another gun, but this one was worth the risk.  That target should attest to that!

* Not really, but she can stare lasers!

So what did I pay for it? 

Well, that depends on how you look at it…  It cost me in cash money all of $64.00 plus the gas to drive to Hollis and the time spent wandering around.  Some might include the cost if buying lunch at a restaurant rather than saving money and eating at home.  That breaks down as $2 to park, $2 ATM fee since the Citizens Bank in the grocery store on 101a charges non-citizens cards a fee to get cash and $60 to the vendor for the gun itself.  (+ lunch and gas…)  Of course, I was going to Hollis anyway and had already paid for parking and gas long before buying my new baby…

Since all that ancillary stuff would have happened anyway, the straight answer is that the gun cost me $60.  I have every reason to expect many years of enjoyment in return.

Well, my lunch break is just about over and I should be getting back to ‘that W thing’ (don’t want to use that four-letter-word in polite company).  So I'll tell you about the pistol I got on Sunday another time.

mood: satisfied

It’s Saturday evening and will still be for a little over half an hour as I sit down to write this post.

Today was a good day.  The weather was nice.  It was sunny but cool when I got up this morning but warmed up nicely this afternoon.  I puttered around the house for a bit and messed about on the web for a while.  I think I woke Mum up when Taz said, rather louder than I’d have preferred, “Flattery ‘ll get you nowhere.”  That old Loony Tunes clip is my Winders shutdown sound these days.

We went to quite a few yard sales this morning.  Yes, the magpie strikes again! 

The first thing I picked up today was a nice Royobi electric weed whacker.  It will take attachments and I think the ones I have for my gas one will fit.  I used it this afternoon to try to get my personal jungle (yard) under some semblance of control. 

I have a ways yet to go…

At another sale I got a really nice Canadian glider rocking chair.  Mom has one.  Actually several if you count the one(s?) in storage.  This one is for me to replace the swivel recliner that didn’t have enough lower back support for my taste.  I fractured a vertebra in my lower back fooling around in gym back in high school and it’s never really been right since.  The people took pity on my poor Galileo who was already loaded with stuff to go to storage and offered to deliver the rocker for us.  That worked out great!

We got a few other interesting things that I won’t bother to list.  No guns yet this weekend though.  I did pick up a copy of the unabridged audio book of David McCullough’s book 1776 in a ten CD set.  I’m looking forward to giving that a listen.

Brunch was interesting.  When we got to the restaurant it looked like they were closed, which would be unheard of at that time of day.  I was afraid they had gone out of business.  When we pulled up to the door we could see the sign they had taped to the door about a power failure.  While Mum and I sat there debating where to go for brunch one of the waitresses came out to explain what was going on.  Unbeknownst to us while we were talking the power came back on.  We were starting to pull away as she went back in then she stepped back out and waived.  I rolled the window back down and she said that power was on and the full menu would be available rather than the extremely limited menu they can fix with the power out.  “But it’s real smoky in there…”  They were still cooking on the gas grill after power went out but the exhaust hoods weren’t working.  Before they realized what was happening the whole place filled up with smoke.  It was almost cleared by the time we left.

During our travels we popped back in at the house for a few minutes and also went over to visit our next-door neighbors.  We had a nice conversation.  Then Mum and I went back out in Galileo to bring the stuff in his way-back to storage.  That only took a few minutes.  We did a few errands and came back home.  The neighbors came over to our place this time to check out my new chair and to chat some more.

They’re good people and I enjoy being with them.

Another fairly typical Saturday at the HerrBGone house.

location: Looking for my socks…

mood: Awestruck

Courtesy of Law Dog I have spent much of the evening in the midst of a musical orgasm! When I was finally able to briefly pull myself away from the video I made a mad dash (within the speed limit, LD…) out to the local mall on a quest for CDs. My quest remains unfulfilled. Fortunately we have the Internet so I can feed my new addiction via YouTube until such time as I can buy these masterpieces in prerecorded form.

WARNING: You may want to take off your socks and remove them to a safe location. I’m still looking for mine.

Funny, I never would have heard of Gregorian Masters of the Chant had it not been for their video’s being posted on YouTube and linked by Law Dog. Never having heard of them, I would not now be seeking (desperate even) to buy copies of the CDs. Is that what BMG, et al are afraid of?

The other errands I mentioned in the post about Thunder’s brakes included popping by the bank to pay the mortgage (always good to get in on time) and then going to our local AAA office.  I’ve had AAA for years.  I’ve made good use of their towing service over the years.  In the little news paper they send out to members they have been advertising how we can save money on our auto insurance (a necessary evil) if we go through them.  Since it was renewal time I figured I’d give them a try.  Turns out that they were actually able to save me some money, so we have a new insurance carrier.  While we were there Mum asked if they insure mobile homes since they had several ads in the office for home owner’s and renters insurance.  It turns out that they do.  And it cost less than our previous coverage. 

Woohoo!

Wait a minute!  How is that a “Woohoo!”?  I just shelled out over a grand for something I hope I’ll never have to use!  Something more like “Harrumph!” should be in order here!

Sigh.

Well, we did pretty good at the flea market this week.  It was a nice day, so we went to Hollis.  I love New Hampshire!  You’ve probably never heard me say that…  All I got at the flea its self were another pair of whistles for my burgeoning whistle collection.  Oh, and another gun…  The whistles are both marked with the Boy Scout logo.  One is a green plastic injection molded piece, the other is chromed brass.  I think the metal one may have been made by Cyclone.  It shares many of the characteristics of the two Cyclone whistles in my collection.  The gun is just another Daisy 880 multi-pump BB/pellet rifle in .177 cal.  This one is almost complete and seems to hold its air.  There is also a trashed scope mounted that I’m going to remove.  I’ll save the mounts, but I’ll probably toss the scope.  The elevation adjuster from the iron sights is missing, but I have one on the other 880 that I bought to dissect.  There is also a broken off screw in the receiver of the new one.  I’ll grab that off the other gun as well.  Cosmetically it’s in OK shape, though the paint on the receiver is scratched up.  I may try to repaint it at some point, but that is a very low priority at this point.  We’ll see…

One of the coolest things I got, this at a yard sale, is a Native American flute.  It is a drone flute – that is one with two tubes.  One tube always plays the same bass note.  That’s the drone.  The other is the melody tube.  That one has the holes you put your fingers on to play a tune.  It’s in the modern Native American flute tuning (I looked it up, but I forget what they call it) in a medium tone.  He had a low tone drone flute also, but that was more money and quite a bit larger.  I also liked the tone of this flute more than the low tone version.  It only set me back twenty bucks since it’s made of PVC pipe that is made to look like wood.  I first encountered Native American flutes at a Pow Wow on Fort Devens several years ago.  On second thought, I think it may have been at the Yarmouth Clam Fest in Maine that I first met a flute maker.  These things all run together after this many years…  Sadly, I couldn’t afford to buy one of his flutes, but I did buy a CD of his music.  Great stuff!  I’ve since bought several CDs of Native American music and a disk of pan flute by a South American artist.  Some day I hope to own a traditional Native American flute.  And maybe even learn how to play!

I’ve been noodling around with various instruments for as long as I can remember.  The ones I’m the least bad at are my recorders, my silver flute and my saxophones.  I enjoy messing with my guitars, but they can be painful to play if you don’t maintain your guitar calluses. 

In other news…

I just heard from Mum on the phone.  She’s been calling the numbers we got from doing some neighborhood riding Sunday looking for FSBO’s and other homes for sale.  So far none meet our needs. 

There was also a property that I found on line at www.realtor.com that sounded good.  Mum called on it again this morning.  They hadn’t called back last week because it has issues.  Unfortunately, this 14 acre property is mostly wetlands.  (PC/Enviro Speak for swamp.)  The house is unlivable and should be torn down and replaced.  What’s more, there is a mobile home that has been moved onto the property illegally and would have to be removed (at the buyer’s expense) and on top of all that, the property is bank owned so the price is firm. 

I find myself filking on Sonny and Cher: “And the search goes on…”  I really hope I don’t get myself ear-wormed with that!

mood: disappointed

This was a busy weekend.  I got a number of errands done and had a good time at the flea market and yard sales.  More on that in another post

The main thing I had on my to-do list was to get Thunder inspected and back on the road.  Last December we went to a garage in Ayer when his sticker was due.  The guy wouldn’t even talk to us until I drilled holes in Thunder’s bumper to mount the front plate.  You see, Thunder is of a vintage when Marxistchusetts used to issue one plate for the back of the car only.  As a result, there is no factory means of mounting a front plate.  So off we went home to try to mount the plate.  On the way I stopped at an auto parts store and bought a proper plate frame to mount to the bumper, then mount the plate to that.

Have you ever tried to drill a hole through the chrome steel bumper of a VW Vanagon?  With a cordless drill?  With a drill bit that may not be the sharpest tool in the box?  On a cold winter’s day?  The drill went “ZZZZZZzzzzzzcoughsputter let’s go in where it’s warm…” and died.  Several times after several rechargings. I decided to wait for warmer weather and didn’t drive Thunder all winter.

Fast forward to last weekend.  

I found a nice Black & Decker corded reversing power drill on sale at Big Lots last week.  That’s our local overstock liquidator store.  Like me, they’re cheap.  With this new drill and a set of drill bits that I got along with all of the shelving and furniture that went in to the new warehouse storage bin, drilling the holes was a piece of cake.  The new plate frame is now securely pop riveted to the bumper and the plate is mounted in the frame.  I had replaced the bulb in the marker light that was out last week.

So after removing all of the stuff that migrated to Thunder’s copious interior during the winter Mum and I were off to get him inspected, this time at a gas station here in town.  Just after we pulled out of the park and got a little speed I decided to test his brakes.  Gently press on peddle.  A bit spongy, just like always.  Apply a bit more pressure, then “THUD!” and the peddle goes to the floor.  Nothing.  I call out “MAYDAY!” to Mum and start pumping the brake peddle furiously trying to get some response.  Nothing.  I pull the handle for the parking brake and don’t get enough to slow us down much.  I really lean on the brake peddle and just get enough brakes to bring us to a stop.  Fortunately we weren’t going all that fast and there was no crisis that required a suddon stop.  This all took maybe five to eight seconds at the most, though it seemed at the time like several minutes.

Now what?

Well we haven’t reached the curve yet, so I put Thunder into reverse and creep backward to the entrance to the park.  We had to wait for several cars to go by first.  Then we crept back to the house and abandoned ship.

Off to do several other errands in Galileo.

When we got back to the house I tried to figure out just what failed.  Yes, yes, it was the brakes.  I figured that out all by myself…  Wisenheimer!

There was no visible brake fluid leaking from anywhere that I could see.  I checked the brake fluid reservoir and there was plenty there.  To check the brake fluid in a Vanagon you first remove the cover over the instrument cluster from the dashboard.  There on top of all of those electrical components is the screw cap for the brake fluid reservoir. 

A truly stunning piece of engineering design IMHO. 

Behind the dash and below the reservoir is the brake master cylinder and the brake booster assembly.  You can’t see it or work on it if the instrument cluster has not first been removed.  I’ve not done that.  I just looked around as well as I could with my Streamlight TL2-LED flashlight.  I think it may need new batteries.  It’s not quite up to its full tactical power.  Anyway, I couldn’t really see all that much because so many components are in the way.

After poking and prodding and basically getting nowhere I surrendered to the mosquitoes and went in the house.

I’ll call Beetle Bug III in Hudson later to see if they can take him in to their expert care.  The brakes are one system that I want someone who knows what they are doing to fix.  As I explained to Mum, I don’t want Thunder to become another Fritz and I don’t want to risk wrapping us around a tree if I try to save a few bucks by fixing them myself and in the process miss something.  I may be cheap, but I'm not suicidal!

So there I am, wandering around the Hollis Flea Market about a month ago when I come across a vendor with a tarp laid out on the ground that’s just covered with guns.  He had quite a few vintage pellet guns and BB guns, along with several very old powder guns.  Genuine antiques.  I had to keep wiping the drool from my beard as I checked out his wares.  There amongst the pile was this:

It’s a first variation Crossman “400” .22cal. CO2 powered repeater.

My little heart just went pitty-pat!

He set it aside for me as I made a mad dash to the nearest ATM.  That cost me an extra $2.00 in foreign ATM fees.  If I recall correctly I got my new baby for $50.00 (+ that ATM fee…)

It’s really entertaining wandering around the flea market watching peoples reactions as they look up and suddenly see a big bearded guy with a camo hat and blaze-orange vest walking around nonchalantly carrying a rifle.  Reactions range from New Hampshire-ites wondering how good a deal I got on the gun to folks from Marxistchusetts who’ve come up for the day looking for bargain antiques for their condo who almost panic.  “OMG!  A man with a gun!” 

Snicker, tee-hee!

The first time I bought a BB gun at the flea market I was not quite panicking myself when I went to cross Rt. 122 to where I’d parked over in the other flea’s parking area.  There are actually three fields.  Two are on one side of Rt. 122 and one is on the other.  There are usually two cops on traffic/crowd control detail making sure we don’t get clobbered crossing the street.  Being a long time Marxistchusetts resident myself, I more than half expected a grilling from one of the cops over my purchase.  But this is New Hampshire.  He didn’t bat an eye as I walked past.  About the only comment I’ve received on any of the guns I’ve bought there from the detail officers have been asking if I got a good deal and lamenting that they can’t leave their post to track down some of those deals for themselves.

I like New Hampshire!

After I finished shopping at the flea we went over to State Line Gun Shop in Mason New Hampshire.  Not knowing anything about my new-to-me Crossman “400” (I include the quotation marks because they are on the gun) I figured it would probably need round ball ammunition judging by the loading mechanism.  They looked it up for me in The Blue Book of Airguns and we found that it actually takes wadcutters.  Cool!  I have plenty of those!  In .22 cal. even… We also found that as I already mentioned it’s a first variation.  It was made no later than 1962 and may even have been made several years before I was born.  Very cool in deed!  The fine folks at State Line suggested that being that old it would probably need to be re-sealed and if it does they have a guy who specializes in airguns.  Also cool.

I picked up another 25-pack of CO2 cylinders and a few other things and headed on my way home to try out my new baby.

Once home I proceeded to give the gun a cursory cleaning and ran a swab down the barrel.  Poor thing was filthy in there!  After doing what I could I tried loading the two CO2 cylinders needed to power the gun.  It seemed at first to be holding its CO2 just fine.  Then I tried firing it.  Bang! PssPssPssPssPssPss no more CO2.  Well poo!

It rained the next week, so we didn’t go to New Hampshire.  The week after that we just barely got to State Line before closing time.  Why is it that when I’m on a tight time line I wind up following someone who is totally oblivious to the posted speed limit?  Averaging fifteen miles an hour bellow the speed limit is somewhat excessive, IMHO!  I made it – just by the skin of my teeth – and Sarge took my gun in for repair.  ‘Should be ready in about two weeks…’  Great!

Well, I popped by State Line last Sunday and picked up my gun.  Unfortunately, it was returned as unrepairable.  They can’t get parts.  I don’t know why not, I mean they only stopped making this gun 45 years ago…  I mean, that’s not even half a century!  ;-p

So unless I can find another Crossman “400” or two or three to kitbash together into one complete gun I will have a nice wall hanger that I can’t shoot no matter how much I may want to.  :-(

You wouldn’t happen to have one in halfway decent shape just lying around that you might want to get rid of?

Note: I’ll add in all of the links when I get home.

mood: irritated

The company I work for has their own video news link that is supposed to be on all day on the big flat panel TV in the break room.  (Half the time it’s on Headline News, but I’m not about to complain…)  Recently they have been running a blurb about how no one is allowed to have a camera on company property without a camera pass from security.  That includes the one in your cell phone.  They are afraid of industrial espionage.  In this day and age I guess that’s a valid concern.

So the company internal web site is running a spotlight on an employee who has been taking pictures of ‘company architecture’ and they are showing off several of his pictures.  They’re not bad, but being a professional photographer (among other things) I can see a number of things that I would have done differently if I were taking those pictures.

Now here’s the rub: In this article they are asking people to submit their own snapshots taken in and around company facilities.

The timing of these two seemingly unrelated events has tripped my paranoia switch.  It will be interesting to see what repercussions may follow for anyone foolish enough to send in their pix.

Security: “Former employee So Andso, you have sent in pictures taken on company property to our little sting, I mean, ‘contest.’  I don’t see any camera passes on file in your name…”

So Andso: “What do you mean “Former”?”

… when they work. 

Mine is working again.  For the most part… 

Over the weekend I picked up a 19” monitor for $5- at a yard sale and a cable at a Electronics Plus in Littleton (Thanks Fran!) and my cranky old PC is working again.  Yes, it’s another cheap yard sale CRT monitor.  Yes, it will probably not last as long as the one I was thinking about buying at the Staples on 101a in Amherst.  But this cost me a total of $15- instead of $229.95.  I could buy 46 of these $5- yard sale monitors and use this new cable or one of the others I already have in stock for that same $229.95. 

This magpie is cheap!  (Do you hear birds?)

I did have to dive head first into Shelob’s Lair again to run the cable.  (I really should straighten out that mess one of these days…)  But it wasn’t that big a deal.

Now that I can see what’s going on I have a new error to contend with.  When I touch the two bare wires together to start my PC it usually starts, but the boot cycle stops almost immediately with a message saying something about ‘the CPU is unusable or has been changed and really should be checked again.  Press F1 to continue or (something else) to enter set up.’  I’ve just hit F1 and it boots fine from there.  I have no idea what that’s all about.

Like I said: “Computers are great – when they work!”

In My Humble Opinion: Maybe a new series.  Well see…

This post was sparked by a conversation about cell phones over at TRL.

 
Originally posted by LORD ALLENOXXE:

"I want to make calls, not take your picture, not check the stock market... make a damn call. dial a number, and talk to someone at the other end, period, end of need."

 

Lord A I am so with you there!  I have a Motorola V-170 flip phone from Tracfone.  It’s pretty vanilla. 

 

There is no camera.  I just got a Fuji S700 camera for that.  It does a stunning job.  It’s a camera, that’s what it does.  I don’t need one in my phone. 

 

I have a digital recorder for taking notes.  It does one thing and it does it well.  I don’t need one built into my phone.  I know the camera has one and my phone may also, but I use the one function digital recorder not the ‘it also has …’ add-on in the other devises. 

 

In spite of having at least half a dozen PDAs of various shapes and sizes, I’ve gone back to my old leather-bound Day-Timer organizer.  It doesn’t have batteries to fail just when I need the information it contains and trees (to make paper) are a renewable resource.  I don’t need that functionality in my phone. 

 

I want my phone to be reasonably compact, to shield the buttons so I’m not calling New Zealand by accident with the phone in its leather case on my belt, and I want it to work well as a phone when I do want to make a call.  The battery will go two or three days between charges on standby and I don’t talk on it all that much (though I do use it more than I thought I would when I first got it).  And it’s a Tracfone.  I don’t have a contract and there are no penalties if I decide to stop using it.  Minutes may cost slightly more than on some contract phones and there are no free times that don’t use minutes, but it does what I need at a price I am willing to tolerate.  It’s not a fashion accessory to me, it’s just a phone.  If it crapped out tomorrow I’d probably get another one.  They seem fairly rugged.  I’m not all that careful of mine, but I don’t beat on it either.  It’s just a phone and that’s what I want.

 

Your mileage may vary.

… when they work!  My primary PC is down.  

The old NEC MultiSync XP21 monitor that I got at a yard sale several years ago finally shit the bed the other day and I haven’t replaced it yet.  That may happen tomorrow.  

I’ve had a frustrating evening trying to get my PC to fire up (not always easy these days even with a working monitor) and log in (blindly) just to get access to the printer that’s connected to it.  The printer in question has a universal media port that I can plug my camera’s memory card into to get at the pictures I shot today.

As coyote populations throughout the area increase they find their way into the news with increasing frequency.  This time Boston.com has a report of coyotes in West Roxbury.  I haven’t seen any myself lately, but there are quite a few around.  I mentioned a couple of my own sightings in this post from a while back.

From yesterdays Sentinel and Enterprise there was a report with a photo of a bear in someone’s back yard in Leominster.  Unfortunately, the article link doesn’t include the photo.  These critters are around and we ignore them at our own peril.

mood: disgusted

Here’s my latest comment on another article in the Sentinel and Enterprise about the murder of Kelly Procter.  This latest article is the DA’s attempt to justify reducing the charges against the accused.  It probably comes as no surprise to you that I don’t buy it.

I can say unequivocally that it is not just the black community that is outraged by this.  I am a white man rapidly closing on fifty years old and I am absolutely disgusted by the DA’s decision to lower the charges. 

 

In a previous article ‘the twins’ (doesn’t that just sound so precious?) defense attorney called Kelly’s death a “tragic accident.”  An accident is when, for example, you are carrying a heavy piece of furniture up the stairs to the second floor balcony and loose your balance and unintentionally drop it on someone below.  Oops…  Dragging someone out from under a vehicle where he has crawled trying to get away from you so you can beat on him some more is no accident.  That Kelly is dead as a direct result of that beating is murder under any definition I have ever heard.  Isn’t being dead sufficient trauma to justify a murder charge?  He isn’t a little dead.  He is a lot dead.  And ‘the twins’ – excuse me – those murderous thugs should be put away for life.

I would have placed a link to the original article to back up my quote of the thugs lawyer.  Unfortunately the paper has taken down the article that I am quoting.  Interestingly though the comments are still there.  It was the article I had linked to in this post back when I first heard that the charges were being reduced.