Safety Tip

Do not put your finger through the hole in a bagel while slicing it.

The cream cheese will not cover up the blood!

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Plumbing

It began, as all these sorts of things do, with an innocent remark, “The sink in my bathroom seems to be leaking a little. Could you look at it when you get a chance?”

As every married man knows, real message was, “There's water under the sink which can only get worse by the minute. Declare a crisis and call 911. NOW!”

I dutifully went to inspect the errant sink and did indeed find water under the cabinet. Hardly a gusher, more like an intermittent drip. The little arm that raised and lowered the stopper needed tightening and that seemed to fix it.

But, of course, it didn't.

“That stopper doesn't stop anything and needs a new one.” 

OK, that shouldn't be too difficult

So off to Home Depot for a new drain and stopper.

But, of course, it was. To separate the pipes the hoses had to be disconnected and the sink lifted out.

Once the sink was out I realized it was past its Best By date and needed replacing as long as I had it all apart.

So off to Home Depot for a new sink.

Back in the bathroom the new sink turned out to be an oval unit rather than the round one I thought I selected. I had carefully matched all the numbers but still got it wrong.

So off to Home Depot for a new new sink.

I realized that the card with the item number for the oval sink was next to the round sink in the display and only by carefully checking the small print did I find the correct part number. The lady at the Returns counter was very nice and I checked out with the new new sink. And a couple of new work lights I saw along the way.

I spread the adhesive on the new new sink, set it into place, checked the alignment and all was well. Until I bent over to check the clearance from below. The new new sink's drain was ~2 ½” over from the old sink and didn't align with the drain pipe coming out of the wall.

So off to Home Depot to see what fittings I would need to bridge the gap. I think the checkout woman was beginning to think I'm stalking her.

OMG, they have a flex pipe for just such problems as I have. Think of the flex straws you used to suck up chocolate milk when you were a kid.

Rushing home with the solution in hand I found that there was not enough room and not enough flex. I was able to force it together but it leaked worse than when I started.

The solution was simple, cut the drain pipe coming out of the wall and install a new slip joint. Simple but one miscalculation and it was going to be tearing out the wall time.

I called Matt at Matthew's Plumbing and asked Matt to drop by at his earliest convenience. As Dirty Harry put it, “A man's got to know his limitations.”

At least the drive to Home Depot is scenic.

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Images

I have a very nice Canon digital SLR but I've wanted to get back to basics for a long time. I bought a Canon A-1 on EBay a year ago. It was the camera I lusted for when it came out but I never had the budget to afford it. Now, it's cheap as dirt because people can't instantly post the pictures on fakebook.

It's the slowness that attracts me now. I have to be a little more careful and a lot more thoughtful in my technique and composition. I can't just fire off a dozen shots and pick out one that looks best.

I let it sit while I did other things but finally bought film for it and took it with me on a hike. Everything seemed to be in working order for a 40 year old camera. The first roll of pictures were OK if uninspiring. So many things to set and check. I finally bumbled through it and was satisfied when the results came back.

I took it with me on the Death Valley trip last month. I had my trusty Olympus digital as a backup but I wanted to see if old school photography still held my interest. I chose Ilford black and white film to see what would happen.

As you can see the results are promising but I obviously have a long way to go.

I had fun developing the film last night. Filling the tank, first with developer and counting the minutes, then each of the other chemicals in their turn. Taking out the film and seeing tiny images on the strip of celluloid was gratifying. At least I hadn't totally bolloxed it up!

I just ordered more film so that I can continue this experiment. I'll post pictures from time to time to better illuminate my commentaries.

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Day 101 - Conclusion

Well, I made it. A few hiccups along the way but I think I've stayed true to my intentions. I've had a lot of fun doing it and have found a few insights about myself along the way. The important part is that I set a goal and followed through. I'm pretty easy going and patient so sticking to a deadline each day is not in my normal character. Not that I'm lazy, let's just say that I'm good at prioritizing and most things just aren't that big a priority.

I like writing. It both clears and focuses my mind. Typing at a keyboard is good for this but writing on a piece of paper is even better. I was once told, “If you can't explain it, you don't know it.” I will leave you with three books that are worth reading on this subject:

• On Writing Well – William Zinsser

• Writing To Learn – William Zinsser

• Thinking On Paper – V.A. Howard, J.H. Barton

To all the people who subscribed (and endured) the past 100+ days, thanks for coming along. Your remarks and encouragement have meant a lot to me. I'll continue to write about my thoughts and record my trips but, for now, I think I'll take a short break.

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Day 100 - Notes

When traveling I like to keep all sorts of notes. Where I stopped for lunch, how much gas I got in what town or village, maybe a quote from somebody I met along the way. I have all sorts of notebooks from trips, large and small, that I have kept through the years.

I keep threatening to transcribe them but I doubt I ever will. I started once but the computer I used is obsolete and the disks are not compatible with anything I have now.

Even when I tried it I could only half remember the context for many of the entries. I tried to annotate with remarks but that made the job all the more onerous and the project languished. I can type better and faster now so maybe I'll try again when I'm old and installed in some elder care facility.

The problem is that I'd rather be out filling up new notebooks instead of sitting at my computer pecking away while I drool on the keyboard. Besides, who would read any of it. It would be nice if there was an affordable voice to text editor that I could just talk to. I could read an entry and explain the circumstances. That might be interesting if accompanied with a couple of good stiff drinks.

I think there is a lot of personal and family history that is being lost for lack of writing it down. Once there were family Bibles that maintained a continuity through generations. Now there is fakebook and tictok that have all the persistence of dew in the desert. What will future generations think when all they have are videos of cats riding Roombas and pictures of people doing stupid things?

My recommendation is Rite in the Rain. I like the #372 lined paper for most of my notes and the #352 grid paper for diagrams or sketches. I keep them in a #200 binder, the lined paper in front and the grid paper in back so I can grab one and insert it into flow. I've found the C9200 cover is handy because it has pockets to tuck away tickets or cards that I want to save. It's a tidy way to keep things together and protect them.

Lastly I like the Fisher Bullet Space Pen to write with. I have a simple brass one that has taken a beating and lasted forever. It fits nicely into a pocket on the binder cover above. Over the years the sweat and grime from my hand has given it a nice patina.

Even if I, or anyone else, never read the notes, it's fun to write them down and capture an instant in time and of my life. It clarifies the moment and brings it into sharp focus. Writing it down helps me see things I often didn't even know I'd seen.

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Day 99 - Book

People often ask me about adventures and travel and what I might or might not recommend. In the summer. I say, “Just Go!”

In the winter it's a little different in the Great White North. I know that some hardy souls convert their bikes to winter sleds but I'm all for staying close to home where it's warm. Reading accounts of other's adventures is always a pleasant way to pass the time until spring returns.

My favorite adventure book has nothing to do with motorcycles. West With The Night by Beryl Markham is the book that hooked me on travel, especially in Africa.

Forget those two loonies and their camera crew, this is the real deal. She grew up training race horses in Kenya. She then learned to fly and was the first woman to cross the Atlantic east to west which is against the prevailing headwinds. Hers is the story of a life time.

It's a great book that's easy to read and hard to put down. No less than Ernest Hemingway said,

“ [she] can write rings around all of us who consider ourselves as writer. ” 

I've given away dozens of copies. As a loyal reader I'd be happy to send one to you too. Just drop me a note.

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Day 98 - Travel

Imagine that the you had just graduated from the University of Vienna and were at a celebratory dinner with lots of guests. Your home is in New York and the question comes up, “How are you getting home?”

Fly? That's pretty easy and convenient. Ship? Leisurely and relaxing after all the years of study. Maybe see a little of Europe before heading back to The States?

Robert Edison Fulton Jr's (REF) answer in 1932 was, “I am going to ride around the world on a motorcycle!”

When people think of motorcycle adventure books they most often focus on Jupiter's Travels by Ted Simon. It's a wonderful book that makes a mockery of any phony reality show. Ted was was the real Been There, Done That rider who went with what had when it was time to go. I met him once and he signed my copy. A fantastic and humble guy who tells it like it was with no punches pulled. A hell of a book!

REF's book is no less fascinating. He heads out from London and tours through the middle east and Asia on his way home. Some of the photos he took are straight out of Lawrence of Arabia.

Names like Kabul and Kandahar fill the pages of the book, familiar to us now in the daily news, but foreign and exotic back then. Bombay, Malaysia, and China are points along the way. All on a two cylinder Douglas motorcycle that was overloaded to the max.

The book is One Man Caravan and I highly recommend it while we are cooped up and locked down. It's out of print and either unavailable at the usual second hand book sellers or outrageously priced. However, there is a Kindle edition for $11 that is more affordable. I should obviously take better care of my edition.

Note – Although REF has passed away his son still has the motorcycle and it resides in Colorado. My friend Linda knows him and he has promised to show me the bike and talk about his dad. I'll share all that when I visit him this summer.

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Day 97 - Chores

This is funny – The next time you and your spouse/partner get into an argument and they are really ripping, grab a towel and drape it over their shoulders. Announce loudly, “Now you are Super Mad!”

They will either break out laughing, Or kill you!

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When a man says he will do something you can be sure he will do it. There is no need to keep reminding him every six months.

The problem with trying to do something is that there is always something that needs to be done first.. Today I was going to vacuum the house. Eazee-Pezee, right? Hardly!

As I started in the hallway the plug pulled out of the wall socket for the lebenty-lebenth time. Arghh! I had been promising myself I would fix it for a very long time and decided that today was the day.

Because I'm such a good planner I already had a new socket. In fact, I had several of them for all of the other sockets I planned to replace. Gathering up my tools I went downstairs to turn off the circuit so that I didn't light myself up like a dim bulb. Then I went back upstairs, plugged in a desk lamp, and called my dear sweet wife to watch when the lamp went off so I'd know when I switched off the right circuit. Back downstairs to the panel and start switching things off. It was, of course, the last switch I checked.

Back upstairs I dismantled the switch and connected the new one. I worked my way through school wiring fire control panels on nuclear submarines so this was pretty elementary. Task completed. I tightened down the face plate and went downstairs again to switch on the circuit. No sparks or flames so job well done.

Back to the vacuuming, but first – set all the clocks that had been reset when I turned off the circuits looking for the right one.

Now, back to the vacuuming. Looking good until the rotary brush got tangled with the fringe on one of the area rugs. Happens all the time – just untangle it and hit the little red Reset button. But first - go find a small pointed instrument to push on the button.

Found it but the system is not resetting so put it on the kitchen counter and disassemble it. No problem, I took apart six cylinder, four valve, double overhead cam motorcycle engines so this is a piece of cake. Nothing looks wrong except that the light bulb is burned out.

Downstairs again to look up the bulb and order it on Amazon. Why is it that one bulb costs $9 but two bulbs cost $10.35? Six for only $13.50 as if I thought the machine would ever last that long.

Back upstairs to button up the attachment and get to work. Ding-Dong. Oh look, the friends I was cleaning the house for have arrived. Oh well, They don't care and I can always vacuum next week.

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Day 96 - Rally

A couple of friends and I are planning a motorcycle rally to be known  as the Six Corners of Utah Rally.
It's in the form of a scavenger hunt but the goal is to collect places and not things. We are tentatively targeting Memorial Day but that may get shifted depending on how quickly we can get everything organized.

Instructions:

• There is no entry fee. However if you wish to make a donation to help cover costs a jar will be available at the sign-in desk.

• You must sign up at least 24 hours before the rally date in order to be entered for scoring. The website is at 6cornersrally.org

• You may choose a class when you sign up. You can only enter one class.

  • Street – any bike allowed

  • Small – 200cc or less

  • Scooter – 12” wheels or smaller

  • Vintage – 1980 or older

• The destinations will be sorted into themes.

  • Urban warriors – SLC area

  • Unlimited – anywhere in Utah

  • Adventure – many dirt roads

  • 6 Corners – all the Welcome to Utah signs

• Destinations will be scored by distance and difficulty. Destinations farther away and/or the more difficult to get to will score more points.

• The currently planned Rally start is Liberty Park in SLC.

• On the morning of the Rally you will be given a shop towel with a letter or number on it.

• At 9:30 a list of destinations with point values will be available.

• You will have up to 30 minutes to plot your best course of action.

• At 10am the Rally will officially begin. Ending time to be determined.

• At each destination you will park in front of the indicated sign or landmark, place your shop towel prominently on your bike, and take a picture of it with your phone.

• You will then text that picture to Rally Central to be scored.

• Only 1 phone number per entry is allowed.

• At the end of the rally the points will be totaled and participant scores will be posted on the website. Everyone will be emailed a certificate with their score and the position in their class.

• The purpose of this rally is to have fun and enjoy the great state we live in! 

• Ride Smart and Ride Safely. Don't come whining to us if you get a speeding ticket!

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Day 95 - Movies

Here are some of my favorite movies:

Lawrence of Arabia – I was a kid when this came out and I was totally fascinated with Lawrence. The scope and grandeur of the film were enough to win 7 Academy awards, including Best Picture and Best Director. I read his biography and his book, The 7 Pillars of Wisdom. At the time I was sure that it was indicative of some future role for me to play in the world. It could possibly have inspired my love of the desert.

The Americanization of Emily – James Garner at his best as a “Practicing Coward” It's a spoof about the absurdity of war and the people who think dying is an act of courage. A young Julie Andrews gets to play a real person instead of the Mary Poppins persona she later assumed.

Dear Frankie – For every kid who has no father or was ignored by the one they had, this movie will tug at their heart. It's not sad but rather shows the real connections a family can have. It's not a romance movie but a movie about the depths of real love. Emily Mortimer and Gerard Butler give outstanding performances

Love Actually – Although I'm a sucker for Vanessa Hudgens Christmas movies, Love Actually is my favorite for the holidays. It's bitter-sweet with thrilling hits and heart breaking misses. In the end, it's all the things we've all been through. An all star cast but for me Bill Nighy steals the show.

Son of Rambow – Simply put, this is the kid you wanted to be when you were a kid. So much exuberance and energy that only kids could possibly have. If this doesn't put a smile on your face, you're dead!

Grosse Pointe Blank – School reunions can be deadly and assassination can be fun. John Cusack at his best. This movie has so many funny moments that I couldn't count them all if I tried. How often does a woman get a marriage proposal in the middle of a gun fight? Here's a question – is Joan Cusack the most underrated actress in Hollywood?

The Way Way Back – I usually avoid coming of age movies but this one hits the mark dead center bullseye! In fact it was almost too close to home for me in parts. Awkward and funny by turns but all very true to life. The water slide scenes are hysterical.

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Day 94 - Speech

Today's program will be interrupted for this important announcement.

Free speech is being attacked on all sides. Hong Kong was promised autonomy when it was repatriated from the U.K. However, as we can all see, it's independence is being crushed by the forces in Beijing who demand subservience to their rule. Myanmar suffered a military coup and its citizens are being shot in the street for raising their voices.

In the U.S. People are not yet being jailed or murdered for differing opinions but cancel culture is doing the same thing on a more insidious scale.

I remember a PBS broadcast some years back when young Germans said they were tired of being cast as Nazis. “We were not even born when the Reich was in power!” Now, even a microsecond of hesitation will cast any white person as a racist. In fact, not apologizing for the color of their skin is an admission of guilt according to the “woke”.

A political science teacher I once had said that it was impossible to make ideas safe for people, the only path forward was to make people safe for ideas. The only way for that was an education that openly debated concepts and the facts. In other words, Free Speech.

That seems to be what the new agenda fears most. Cancel culture seeks to silence any opposing views. Are there bad people with bad ideas? Of course there are, on both sides. Only open an open forum without fear of reprisal will expose them.

What the new progressives want is power by any means. By cloaking themselves in a mantle of righteousness and casting guilt upon any that oppose them they are no different than the ones they wish to depose. Socialism? Look to Venezuela for a shining example. Benevolent ruler? How about Che Guevara who was a blood thirsty megalomaniac. The thing that characterizes both regimes is the suppression of free speech. That and a population that wants to change the repression for freedom.

I was a member of Students for a Democratic Society for a short time when I was young. It didn't take me long to realize that most of the leaders were in it for their own ego trip. They assured themselves that only they could see clearly and that the ends justified the means. Anyone who didn't agree 100% was the enemy and must be silenced.

We can't turn back the clock and reverse the actions of our predecessors but we can avoid repeating them by open discussion and not silence.

The only thing for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing.
-- Edmund Burke

The Who said it best in 1971.  

"Won't Get Fooled Again"

We'll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgement of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again

The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that's all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
'Cause the banners, they are flown in the last war

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
No, no!

I'll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Oh I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?

There's nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by the bye
And a parting on the left
Is now a parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
Don't get fooled again
No, no!

Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss

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Day 93 - Scramblers

How do I love thee, let me count the ways …

Or

How do I love bikes, let me count them all …

I just moved into a new storage space that finally lets me keep them all together and frees up my garage for working on one without tripping over all the others. Best of all, it has doors at both ends so it's drive-in, drive-out. No fuss, No muss!

Best of all, there is room for more! Notice that only one of Beth's bikes has moved in. The rest of hers will double the count.

The ratty one on the right plus the last two in line (not counting the orphan with the rusty tank and no engine) are all Honda 250 Scramblers from the '60s. The one minus the engine has been owned by me or one of my friends since my days at Fun Bike Center in San Diego. That is to say, a very long time!

This engine has been a living room sculpture for the last year waiting to be installed in that bike. It was rebuilt by none other than my friend Bill Silver. He is probably the most knowledgeable person on vintage Hondas outside of Japan and has written several books on the subject. I like to think I know a lot about them but Bill puts me to shame.

The plan is to take the three bikes plus the parts I've accumulated over the past few years to restore my original bike and make one more complete bike for a daily rider. The goal is to do it this summer and ride it down to Baja.

This is the 50^th anniversary of On Any Sunday and it only seems proper to ride the same bike that started the very first Baja 1000 down to Mexico.

Stay tuned!

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Day 92 - Hero

I suppose that kids nowadays think of Transformers, or comic book super heroes, or Harry Potter characters as the ideals they want to pattern their lives after. When I was a kid it was John Wayne or Steve McQueen. Manly men who could do anything, win any fight, and always get the girl in the end.

I, of course, was different. I wanted to be like James Garner. He was always cast as a lovable scamp who had a trick up his sleeve to foil his enemies rather than a mighty fist that could punch his opponent into next week. That appealed to to me because I was an awkward, skinny kid who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag.

What I did have was a brain and a knack for seeing through people. I could figure out what they wanted and find ways to convince them that punching me was not it. A smart mouth got me into trouble but just as often got me back out of trouble.

Garner always got the girl, but I'd have to wait awhile for that. In the mean time I'd just do the “Aw Shucks” routine and tell them that hitting me would be more embarrassing for them than painful for me. Mostly, it worked.

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Day 91 - Shop

What is old is new again. In my case what is old may still be hanging around.

These are my old tool boxes. The little one on the ground is the first one I bought use when I got my first mechanic job at Weymouth Honda. The picture is from 22 June 1977 in San Diego.

Same toolbox 44 years later filled with the original Snap-On tools I bought back when I started. Close inspection reveals the same decals plus many years of grease and grime.

These are the new tool boxes I bought to replace the big ones in the previous picture. The originals went to my brother who was starting out as a diesel mechanic and needed some  tools work with. I kept my original wrenches and all the motorcycle special tools but gave him the rest. What are brothers for?

This is the workbench my dad made for me when I was 10 or 11. He kept it while I wandered the world. I was happy to find that he had saved it and brought it home in the back of my truck.

A Honda Interceptor 750 on my lift. Once you have a lift you will never go back! For you readers in California and Arizona, that weird red and black mechanism to the left is a snow blower. No reason for you to know that!

This is Beth's half of the garage. Her own tool boxes, her own workbench, and her own lift. She does most of her own work with some help from me on occasion. She just replaced the brake lines on the Hawk GT with braided stainless steel lines. I was allowed to pump the lever while she bled the brakes. That's one of her two Ducatis in the background, a 900 SS LE. She has 9 bikes in all if you count the race bikes and Bonneville LSR bike.

You know those t-shirts that say, “If you can read this, the bitch fell off!”? Beth has one that says, “If you can read this, the bitch just passed you!”

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Day 90 - Dates

In high school I was beyond shy. I was frightened to death of girls and never went on a date or to any of the dances. I didn't have many guy friends either but I was straight A's in my engineering classes. A nerd's nerd even before anyone knew what a nerd was.

I was a big fan of movies like To Catch A Thief where Cary Grant was always so confident and sophisticated. I also liked all the Doris Day / Rock Hudson movies for the same reason. This led to one big problem, I knew how they acted right up to that moment where things started to get intimate and the camera panned up into the sky. Wait! What?

I finally started dating and was very popular. I did all the things I had seen in the movies. I took girls to fancy places and treated them like movie stars. The only problem was that none of the relationships ever lasted more than 3 or 4 dates. I was the perfect gentleman. Which is to say, BORING!

There was that problem, I didn't know what to do next. I'd take them home and they'd want to be kissed. I didn't know anything about that and just shook their hands. Queue the death knell.

The guys all thought I was really hitting home runs because I had so many different girls and I was certainly not going to disagree with them. When they asked about this one or that one, I replied that a gentleman didn't kiss and tell. In my case they didn't even kiss!

Cary Grant couldn't have put on a better act. I went to parties, took dates to clubs, and was seen at all the best places. Only I knew what a façade it was. 

Then it happened, there was this girl that everyone wanted and nobody came close to getting. I was at a party having a reasonably good time when she came over and started talking to me. I was a little shocked but went into my routine of being suave and above it all.

After a few minutes she said, “You are totally full of shit and are coming home with me tonight!” 

OK!!

And this is where the camera pans up into the sky and the music swells in romantic interludes …    

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Day 89 - Cars

My first car was an old Ford that didn't have a motor. Or a transmission. I bought it with the money I had saved from my allowance. I had it towed to a place a block from my home. My father found out about it and hit the roof. What was I thinking? What was I going to do with it? HAD I ASKED PERMISSION? I don't know, I don't know, No …

My second car was a '53 Chevy Bel Air convertible. This one was in great shape with the exception of the transmission which was blown. I bought it for $50 of my paper route money. My sister's boyfriend was eager to make points so he helped me find a replacement transmission in a junk yard and helped me install it. I kept it parked down the block and only drove it when nobody was looking.

When my father found out about it he hit the roof. What was I thinking? What was I going to do with it? HAD I ASKED PERMISSION? I don't know, I don't know, No …  Experience told me that he wasn't going to say yes under any circumstances so it was up to me to go pirate if I wanted a car.

Did I mention that I didn't have a license? My father thought that if he withheld the license it would keep me from driving. Just the opposite, it made me want to drive all the more. Needless to say the Chevy was quickly sold to the first person that answered the newspaper ad.

Arnold Mendoza lived with his parents next door to us. He had just gotten out of the Marines and drove a red Triumph TR-3. He also had a girlfriend named Mary who rode a BMW R69S motorcycle. She wore fitted sealskin leathers and looked better than Marilyn Monroe. Arnie felt sorry for me and taught me how to drive. Mary smiled at me and said I was a nice kid. When he moved out into his own apartment he let me hang out with him. He went to college during the day and worked as a janitor at night to pay for it. I used to “borrow” the Triumph while he was working, it was easy to hot wire, and go riding around the city just happy to cruise with the top down. He knew but didn't seem to mind as long as the car came back with gas in the tank.

My next, almost, car was an International Harvester Scout. Other kids wanted T-Birds or hot rods but the ugly duckling with 4-wheel drive called to me. I went down to the dealer and a sympathetic salesman sent me home with brochures and a sales agreement to be signed by my parents.

When I asked my father he hit the roof. What was I thinking? What was I going to do with it? HAD I ASKED PERMISSION? Wait! I was asking permission. I was a straight A student and he said that if I worked hard I could have anything I wanted. That stopped him, but only for a second. He was not going to sign for a vehicle because “We do not buy things on credit!”

My mother must have talked to him because a few days later he brought up the subject and suggested that something a bit more practical might be possible. I think he was thinking of a second hand sedan but I had found the new love of my life. A bug eyed Sprite!

This was a car that only the British could make. No interior door panels, to open the door you reached in through the sliding Plexiglas window if the top was up and pulled on a wire to release the catch. The was no hood, the whole front end came off, and no trunk lid, you flipped the seat forward and stowed things behind you. However, it had one feature above all that made it attractive to me. It was affordable!

I took the brochure to my dad and made my pitch. He was stuck, he had said that if I had a solid plan he would give permission. In the end it didn't matter. I had turned 18 and had to register for the draft. The Vietnam war was going full blast and I had a choice of volunteering or being sent to the Army Infantry. I joined the Air Force because I didn't like people shooting at me. But that's a story for another day!

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Day 88 - HoSD

In 1976 I was working as a mechanic at Fun Bike Center in San Diego. The owner and I had a contentious relationship. He needed a good mechanic and I needed a good paycheck. He thought he could tell me what to do and I was sure that nobody could tell me what to do.

I got fired on a regular basis. At first I would load up my tool boxes and take them home. A few days later I would find an excuse to drop by the shop and the service manager would tell me to get back to work. Later it became such a ritual that I would merely push my tool boxes into a back corner so I didn't have to take them home.

On one occasion I actually got fired and rehired in the same sentence.

"You're a pain in the ass and you're fired, now get back to work!”

Mark, our fearless leader in the middle

That went on for a while until I got tired of the game and went to work at Honda of San Diego. Our service manager was an young guy who drank too much. If he hadn't come into the shop by 10am we would send the lot boy in the shop truck to pick him up. More than once he returned with the manager passed out in the back of the truck.

His most memorable moment was when he got into an argument with a customer on the phone. Suddenly he yelled, “Did you see that, that asshole hung up on me!” He immediately called the customer back and yelled, “Did you just hang up on me?!?! You don't hang up on me!! I hang up on you!!” And with that slammed the phone down on the receiver so hard we all thought he broke it. Needless to say we were all in uncontrollable hysterics.

I still have the small toolbox by my feet

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Day 87 - Stanyon St.

There is so much to be afraid of, this growing old thing. This morning I saw a picture of a friend from many years ago. She looked old, the same brilliant smile, now in faded pastels. I wonder what she would think if she saw my picture, what we would say if we met.

It is not the memories that matter, it is what is not remembered and lost. At random moments, a quiet clue will prompt some connection to a bygone event. A previous adventure or former lover will rush to the foreground to claim moments of my time with moments past, only to fade again into the dark.

Mortality does not scare me, from dust to dust. Losing all the photos I've carefully kept would be a disappointment. What scares me most is losing the way to new friends and adventures. Maybe looking back gets in the way of looking forward.

Still, it is pleasant to remember the streets I've lived on and the wonderful things that happened there.

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Day 86 - Risk

I was discussing arrows and their meanings. Let me try to pull it all together. The arrow is a vector in mathematical terms. It's length is the vector's magnitude. The center (origin) of these vectors is you. Call it your being, or your soul, or whatever you want, it's the summation of you. It's different from the origin of everyone else. The surface of all these vectors (the lumpy potato) is the locus of your personality. I said that every vector can be positive or negative, reflecting your likes (+) or dislikes (-), hopes (+) and fears (-).

Now I suggest that the magnitude of each vector can represent your tolerance for risk. You can not extend any vector in a positive direction further than you are willing to accept the same amount of negative response. Casinos always say, “You can't win if you don't play!” So it is with life. You can't enjoy a reward greater than you're willing to risk a loss.

If every activity has risk, how much is a person willing to wager in search of the reward? It is my axiom that the positive magnitude of any vector can not exceed the possible negative value. Is the thrill of skydiving worth the risk of death? Some say yes, most say no. Is the possibility of large returns on the stock market worth the risk of being penniless?

In school we had the first hint of this bargain. Some of the kids seemed to live large while most kept their heads down and stayed below the radar. Go over and ask that girl for a date? Maybe next time, too risky now. Later, it would be trips to exotic places or the safety of a package tour. Nobody has ever died of embarrassment but you would think it was an everyday occurrence.

In an economics class one lecture was on satisficing. That is the decision to accept what satisfies the minimum requirement while sacrificing the goal of perfection. That reflects the decision of how much to risk. A bank deposit at minimal return will satisfice because it is safe and insured. Keep the risk small and accept the minimal reward.

We make decisions every day in which we weigh the risk and reward. Some want more reward, some want less risk. Each person has to decide for themselves. The little gray people live on the ground, but some reach for the stars and accept the bumps and bruises along the way.

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Day 00 - Reset

I haven't been online because I did a factory reset on my computer and lost everything that I though I had carefully saved. See you tomorrow.

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