This evening I decided to get in the Scout and see if she’d crank over just for the hell of it. With the first turn of the key, she gave me a few low cranks and then got slower. Initially, I thought the problem had to do with the dreaded “Gold Box” syndrome (a feature of later IH gas engines, involving an electronic ignition module and frustration) where the starter didn’t get any juice, period. Now I think my accidental draining of the battery back on Friday night put the final nail in its coffin, and it’s been undercharged since then, contributing to my starting problems. I’m going to see if I can pick up a new battery tomorrow and make her happy again.
My buddy Matt in San Francisco sent me an email this morning with a link attached:
Isn’t it amazing that I actually can be a part of this craziness!
I asked him to vote for Gary Coleman.
Tomorrow our friend Nate goes in tho the shop for a suspension job; he has about thirty blowed-up discs and vertebrae, and they have to put him up on the lift and sort the mess out. Good luck, and get well soon, amigo.
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new I think it may be time for some of our elected legislators to roll up their sleeves and get some of the kinks of the intellectual property and copyright laws sorted out before our economy goes down the toilet.
The new Jane’s Addiction album is a mixed bag. There are some songs that really rock, and there are some that merely move. I don’t know what exactly I was hoping for, considering the fact that the band was so strung out recording Ritual they don’t remember it, but this album is pretty good. I suppose it will be one of those albums I have to listen to a few times to get into (see: Songs for the Deaf, Turn On The Bright Lights, Vespertine) but overall it’s not too bad.
Slashdot had an entry on the art of Machinima, where you take the in-game engine of your favorite first-person shooter and “film” a script or some other story. Apparently there’s now a contest for the best of this year’s clips; that link took me to the Red vs. Blue site, where a couple of guys have taken the familiar Capture the Flag scenario and asked the question: If the bots in the game were real people, what would they talk about? This is a distinctly Kevin Smith/Quentin Tarantino approach to the subject, and howlingly funny for anybody who’s been in the military, played a lot of FPS style games, or just likes offbeat game humor. Worth a look, guys.
Just when you thought it couldn’t get any funnier. The Scout’s ignition module burned out at work today, so the juice won’t get from the battery to the starter motor. It doesn’t click, grind, or catch. Not a thing. I caught a ride with Nate into town to pick up Jen (remember, the Scout is the one running vehicle we have) and then to Jen’s house to where the Tortoise is parked. We say good-bye to Nate (he doesn’t need to get involved in this insanity, and it would be our luck for his car to break down too) and hop in the Tortoise to try to make it down to the mechanic’s. About a quarter of the way there, she gives up the ghost—there’s a hole in the return line from the radiator about the size of a dime that I didn’t see when I looked over the engine. We get a tow from a nice young guy and drop it off with my mechanic, who so far has saved us roughly $500 by proving that the Saturn’s alternator wasn’t dead, just the battery. So that car isn’t heading back to the dealership anytime soon.
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We spent three hundred-something-odd dollars on Jen’s Saturn this weekend, fixing a problem with the ignition lock, (ridiculous, really, on a car with 60,000 miles) replacing the two rear tires (we needed to do that last year) and figuring out why the sunroof was leaking (a pox on the Saturn engineers, who did not design the drain tubes to clear themselves. This led to inches of water inside the car and an unpleasant smell.) She called me this afternoon from work to tell me the car wouldn’t turn over. I drove down, got lost, picked her up, got the jumper cables from the Scout, drove back to the Saturn and got it running. This makes twice in a week’s time the Taurus has served as chase-vehicle (I left the lights on in the Scout at the movies the other night- duh) which is sort of humorous, considering that the other two vehicles actually have working turn signals, decent tires, don’t stall at idle, or steer like barges on the Mississippi. When you have to depend on the Taurus to get you out of a jam, it’s time to make friends with Larry the salesguy down at CarMax.
Meanwhile, the exhaust pipe from the headers to the muffler on the driver’s side of the Scout split the other day, right in front of the muffler, so now with one of two mufflers inoperative, you can hear the Scout coming in other zip codes. I have to drive into the local Mineke down the street and see if there’s any way they can re-attach the pipe without having to custom fabricate a whole new exhaust. Fun!
Update 3:45 PM. Saturn claims it’s going to cost somewhere around the GDP of Romania to fix the alternator and replace the battery in Jen’s car. I think not. One call to our friendly auto guy and we have an appointment with a wrench planned for tomorrow night. Grrr. Stupid dumb cars.
Remember, when you’re having a bad day, sushi and Sapporo make everything much better. Or pizza and Corona.
OK, having seen it twice in three minutes (yeah, that’s local TV, thanks so much) I have to be the one to ask this question: How could two of the most image-conscious, brand-aware companies I know of allow such a sucktastic song to go along with their marketing campaign? (And don’t write me to tell me you like it. It sucks. Period.)
Update update 10:18 PM. Not another word about cars. Not again.
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After crawling back out of a black hole with Jen’s help last week, I’ve been wanting to take some pictures and think creatively again. Unfortunately, two of the places I wanted to shoot at did not lend themselves to photography this morning. A few days ago I walked through the southern section of Canton, over by Brewer’s Hill, and found some streets I’ve never seen before. I also drove up Broadway north of Fell’s Point, with the goal of parking and shooting some of the storefronts and people I saw there. What I found didn’t excite or inspire me, however—the Canton area had some interesting subjects, but the Broadway area was not speaking to me. Perhaps I’ve worn out my particular area of town; perhaps I wasn’t awake enough to see some of the natural character present this morning. Whatever the cause, I haven’t used my camera in a week and I’m beginning to worry about that.
I got a nice email from a guy in Texas this afternoon who is considering buying a Scout that almost exactly resembles mine- same color, style, and interior appointments. His Scout doesn’t have any visible rust, however. Sigh.
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Happiness is. Yesterday I got home from work and didn’t want to turn on the idiot box, so I took a copy of Top Ten that Nate lent me out into the backyard with a cold beer and sat in the garden enjoying the evening air. It was about 80 degrees and slightly cloudy, the neighborhood was quiet and peaceful, and all was right in the world. Top Ten is a book based around the premise that a city full of superheroes living normal lives needs policing, and is focused on the cops charged with enforcing those laws. Alan Moore is just an incredible writer, and the book is full of his trademark humor, sadness, action, and mystery. Think of a Joseph Wambaugh novel starring the Justice League of America, and you have the idea behind this book. One of the highlights of the second book (the one I read) was identifying some of the people in the backgrounds—it’s not unusual to see characters like American Flagg, the PowerPuff Girls, the cast of Futurama, or Dick Dastardly and Mutley walking around the city.
Apple announced a bunch of new products yesterday, and while I look forward to several of the new features included in the OSX update, I’m worried that the usual cycle of change will render my current machine even more clunky. I’ve been putting off even thinking about a new laptop for a year now, but as the days go by this laptop seems to get a little slower as it runs OSX. One of them newfangled 15″ Powerbooks would be fantastic; I’m determined to at least make it to a G4 with my next system, but I don’t have the cash to get there. For now, faithful Scout here will have to do.
It’s looking like I’m going to have to crank up the A/C unit tonight; the temps are in the 90’s today and I’m sure the city will be a sticky mess. Big fun!
This afternoon I took the opportunity to drive down the street from work and wash the Scout; after a soggy spring and life under the sap-laden trees of Lakewood Avenue, she was getting pretty grubby. (and I’m sure my neighbors were sick of looking at it.) I fed the quarters into the machine, dialled the appropriate setting, and scrubbed her down as much as I could before my money ran out. After four quarters, three runs of what is called the “soapy brush” cycle (which consists of a broke-down broom generating clouds of soapy bubblegum-scented foam) made the dirty Scout a not-so-dirty Scout.
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No, my truck was not abandoned simply because I parked it out in front of your stupid house. If you have such an issue with the fact that my truck is parked three doors down from my house out in front of your door, get off your fat ass and walk down to ask me to move it. Don’t call the cops and complain that somebody left the truck there, especially since it had only been there since sunday morning. And if you have a problem with the way my truck looks, perhaps you should walk out your front door, turn around, and get an eyeful of the sorry-ass front of your house. Maybe I should call and complain to the ASPCA the next time I walk past your air conditioner and get a noseful of that rotten cat piss stink fuming out of your living room.
And, you know, I did buy a cover for it, so that I’d be a better neighbor and you wouldn’t have to look at it. I kept that cover on it right up to the day somebody ripped it off in broad daylight and you didn’t call the cops. So thanks, neighbor.
If my truck gets towed, you better believe your car will soon be sitting on four flat tires, bucko.
…
So you’re bored of all the average-looking cars out there on the road, and you want something distinctive. A Civic is too plain, a Hummer H2 is too big, and there’s already a Z8 parked on your block. Why not a DeLorean? A company in Texas will be happy to sell you a “remanufactured” model with a 6/6000 mile warranty. Already got one? then you’ve probably heard about their extensive warehouse full of OEM parts, shipped straight from the factory in Ireland when the company shut down. Heck, if I had $35K burning a hole in my pocket, I’d be interested in buying one for giggles.
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keyboard, 3.25
This camera is the shiznit. I bought a camera bag for it last night, but will most likely have to hunt for a bigger one, as the camera and all its fittings don’t quite fit in this one.
Jen and I are entering a pair of logos in the DC Art Director’s Club competition; I think we have a very good chance of winning something. We’re still waiting with bated breath to see what the Oakleaf work looks like (when we get the whole package, I’ll post it for you to see) but the logo itself is ready to be judged.
I think I may take an hour or two tonight and redesign the Scout page, as it still accounts for 30-40% of the visitors to this site. (yeah, how’s that for irony? You love my truck more than my boring ramblings or crappy drawings. Where’s the love, man? Where’s the love?!?)
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I wrote a potential client back and provided my address, then went to check the Design section and realized the JavaScript for the Case Studies section was broken. A quick two-minute fix, but who knows how long it’s been busted?
The Home Depot in Glen Burnie has used brick in stock, so I’m stopping by tonight with the Scout to pick up a load. Whoopee!
Additionally, I did update the Scout page last night, for the first time in four years. Good grief! I have a bunch of other stuff I’d like to post there, including the lineset ticket and an updated list of links from the past four years. Hard to believe it’s been almost five years I’ve owned it.
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There’s a nice Scout on the Binder Bulletin Classifieds in DC going for $5,000 right now.
I’m working on the interface for a game project right now. The game is still very much in the planning/designing stages, and we’re trying to plot out the paths for the users from insertion of the CD to the click of the “quit” button. It’s challenging to be back in a high-level planning role, and help make decisions about how the game will work and feel, instead of dressing up a three-year-old flawed bitmap interface. I can’t wait to get into the building and testing of this thing.
Welcome to the Machine. When did this country become a fascist state? When did free speech become anti-American? Why is it wrong to speak your mind? What’s wrong with this country?
I hope some of those dudes at the ACLU rise up righteously and sue the crap out of that mall.
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Yesterday I dug the Scout out and bundled Jen up on the warm sheepskin seat and we ventured out into the snow in 4-Hi. Canton, my neighborhood, was an absolute disaster of yuppies frantically scraping off their BMW’s and Navigators and blindly zooming around each other to Get There As Soon As Possible. We gamely avoided all these jerks and motored up to her office, and I returned home quietly. Returning to pick her up was a different matter, as aforementioned yuppies were out en masse Getting Home As Soon As Possible, which involves lots of traffic, ignoring red lights, cutting in front of people, blind lane changes, and charging down a one-lane road after seeing you’ve started and are halfway towards them already. Two and a half hours later we returned to eat steaks and drink beers and lay around on the couch, and we went to bed like good Scouts at 11.
This morning, we rose at 6:15 to be out the door by 7 to drive our neighbor Dick and his wife Thelma to the hospital, where Dick was scheduled for anyeurism surgery at 9:30. I felt like total crap, and by the time we stopped at the BK Lounge for some coffee and food after successful delivery, I felt like dying. Upon delivery of Jen to her office, I crawled under the conference room table, curled up like a dog and passed out until 10 (scaring the life out of Carl, her boss, who thought I was a dead body.)
At first I thought it might be carbon monoxide poisoning from the truck exhaust, but I can’t be sure, as I’m feeling fine now. Props go to Jen for putting up with my grunting and generally rotten mood. And everybody cross your fingers for Dick, who needs to quit going to the hospital (the guy fought his way across the Pacific in 1945 and still works part-time as a driver for the local funeral parlor.) He and his wife are the best neighbors ever.
I got my Airport Base Station in the mail today, plugged it in and within minutes was working wirelessly. I can’t wait to get it home and test out the signal. Thanks for the heads-up, Mike! In somewhat related news, Looks like I’d better go get a copy of VirtualPC 6.0 before it’s gone.
Renie sent me a link that’s worth a chuckle or three: Kiwi caught speeding semi-naked on motorised barstool.
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