I was poking around on our backup server last night looking for some pictures and came across some old shots of Chewbacca in and around the blizzard of ’03. This was one of her shining moments and paradoxically the final nail in her coffin; After digging out there wasn’t anyplace we couldn’t go in 4-wheel drive, but I don’t think she was ever right after bathing in road salt that year.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.
Here’s a really interesting article on the Jalopy Journal with some good information about hooking up an iPod to a hidden amplifier. The interesting part is the iPod dock connector, which I’d never really thought about searching for before. I believe the Kenwood head unit I have is equipped with RCA jacks that will support AUX input, so I may switch over to that instead of a mini stereo cable out the front.
Update: I’m out of luck with the Kenwood unit (it’s got no aux inputs on the back), so I may just sell it on Craigslist. I never liked the control/button setup anyway.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.
This guy did some seat base repairs that are exactly what I need to do with mine.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.
Mr. Scout and I have been talking about getting materials together and building a pair of rear bumpers jointly to save on materials and time, and he sent me a link this morning: a write-up on a project from the Binder Planet. The author built it for an 800B but the design could be modified for a Scout II pretty easily, we figure. The part that interests me is the swing-away tire carrier and Hi-Lift jack mounts, which would clear up a ton of space in the back of Peer Pressure.
I still feel a little queasy from the exhaust fumes, but it sure was nice to warm Peer Pressure up and drive her into work. I wonder if a hardtop would cut down on the smell.
I did represent the Scout on my Christmas list; at the top was a new gas tank sender and J-hooks, as well as some inexpensive speakers and a Service manual. Come on Santa!
I chose an absolutely glorious day to drive up into Monkton/White Hall to meet with a nice fellow and buy a spare Thermoquad for Peer Pressure today. Apart from one minor hiccup with lousy battery cabling, the old girl ran like a top, and we ventured out into farm country, blowing up clouds of leaves and passing by cows, horses, and IH farm equipment of all vintages. Erik is a real nice guy with a stable of drool-worthy trucks, and he gave me my pick of two Thermoquads. The one I chose looks like it was recently rebuilt itself, and comes with all the associated hardware I’ll need in case of replacement.
Later in the afternoon, I got a call from Mr. Scout, who was in town and behind the wheel of Chewbacca on her maiden voyage across the Bay Bridge. He stopped in to say hi and we looked her over; the work he did is spotless and the truck is beautiful. We took a short spin up the block and he made me get behind the wheel for the return trip. She feels great; the engine is strong, the brakes are sharp, the wheel is straight, and the truck feels tight, like it just came off the showroom floor. Well done, sir. You’ve made me proud.
Finn likes old trucks.
Always on the lookout for adventure, I packed Finn in the CR-V on saturday morning and followed Bennett up to a farm in White Marsh for a parts expedition. His friend has a collection of desirable old vehicles stashed in a back field as well as piles of parts tucked under tarps and outbuildings. The object of our visit was a 345 pulled from a junker, stored under a collapsed shed and sheltered by the branches of a huge, rambling tree, and he was hoping to get it loaded into his pickup to take home. Given the fact that he’s stopped by to help me about fifty times, I felt it was time I started returning the favor.
Getting quickly to work, we wrapped a chain around the dolly under the engine and pulled it out into the sunlight using sheets of plywood and a board to turn the casters. Then we wrestled a hoist off the truck to a position behind the engine, got it lifted, and tucked the tailgate of Bennett’s pickup underneath. Right about the time we were about to drop it into the dolly, the hoist bit into the soft dirt, listed to port, and 750 lbs. of pig iron came to rest against the tailcap of the truck and a branch of the tree.
With some backwoods engineering, two ratchet straps, a couple of 2x4s and some luck, we coaxed it over to the center of the bed between two 4x4s, got it tied down, stood back and breathed a sigh of relief. (I can now say I’ve climbed a tree in order to lift an engine).
Finn, the picture of patience, chose to supervise from the tailgate of the truck, and later from the cab, where she happily snacked on raisins and stayed clear of dangling engine blocks.
After we’d finished packing up, Bennett took Finn and I on a tour of the back field, where his friend is storing several 50′s Travelalls, a gorgeous porthole Buick, several Nashes, several more 50′s pickups, and other assorted vehicles. I could have spent all day with my good camera snapping photos, but I had to settle for the point-and-shoot while carrying Finn on my shoulders. My heart wept at the sight of the Buick slowly oxidizing in the sun, but that’s someone else’s issue to deal with.
Nearing lunchtime, I packed Finn back up in the Honda and we followed Bennett back to the 695 split, listening to the sound of his exhaust echo through the tunnel. He’s got plans to get it cleaned up and dropped into Mr. Hanky, and hopefully it will run better than the motor he just pulled.
I was able to get Apache started on the iMac after finding one typo and one bad directory link, and the permission issues were working fine, but I was unable to actually publish a calendar from the powerbook to the iMac. I have to try again tonight to find out what I did wrong. I also ordered the 160GB drive this morning, which will mean plenty of space for backups and music. Woo-hoo!
This site is just too damn funny. Wow.
Choices. Tonight is Art Spiegelman’s thing downtown; besides knowing almost nothing about the event, I’m excited to go and see him. Unfortunately, David Carson is at Villa Julie College tonight (the website sucks, and I can’t find any information on there), and we know nothing about that event other than that it’s open to the public (Spiegelman is tickets-only). That’s a tough choice, and I was leaning towards Carson until the tickets came—guaranteed seats are better than standing room only. I have my copy of Maus in my bag.
Some thoughts about Rock. This morning I drove into work and heard a song by Audioslave, the Rage Against the Soundgarden mess, and it made me kind of sad. At the risk of sounding like a fuddy-duddy, my golden age of music was roughly the end of hair metal through the Seattle sound up until about 1995 or so. During that time there was about an 80% chance that the song on the radio was something I was into. Soundgarden was a band I was into back in the late 80’s, in the Louder Than Love era, when they were getting on the snake. The Red Hot Chili Peppers were coming off the death of their guitarist and had just hired a maniacal new 19-year old with chops of fire. Rage Against the Machine were the L.A. riot of FM radio, dropping the F-bomb in the chorus of their song. Take that, FCC! Alice in Chains released Dirt, which was the pool-hall soundtrack for 1993. (The opening bass riff to Would? still gives me chills.) Public Enemy was still (kind of) a going concern. These guys all played like it meant something, and the music made a connection with me.
These days, all my heroes are older and getting into their introspective phases: Soundgarden is gone, RATM is the house band for Chris Cornell’s moody rambling, RHCP strum and sing (barely) instead of shaking my booty, Layne Staley is dead (dumbass) and other once-mighty bands have dropped off the map.
What’s my point? Well, A) my tastes in music tend towards the pop-oriented stuff; B) I’m an old man who will complain about how nothing is as good as the “good old days”; C) I’ll be the guy who buys that copy of the Singles soundtrack at your tag sale; D) It’s time to dig out some of the old classics for another listen.
The moral of the story, courtesy of an anonymous poster on the Mobtown Shank: Love the music, not the musician.
It looks as if hurricane Isabel is going to kick the crap out of the East Coast, which bodes well for our planned flight to Texas for JP’s wedding. Time to check on Southwest’s weather policy.
In other news, Todd found and told me about the Rejuvenation House Parts website, which deals in new-manufacture lighting for old houses. This stuff is not cheap, but damn, what fine-looking products they have. I’d much rather spend the money on something like this instead of some drippy cut-crystal chandelier at a local “lighting store”.