Move Over Doctor Phil

Posted on March 17, 2013 | 1 Comment

Have you ever noticed that when you look in the mirror you look much older than you feel? If you answered “no,” you’re either a liar, or you’ve had tons of plastic surgery. If you answered “yes” you’re like most of the rest of us. I’ve thought about this phenomenon a lot and I have an explanation. You know how Forest Gump said “Life is like a box of chocolates?” Well, it’s not, and Forest Gump was an idiot, and the movie, Forest Gump was a boring piece of junk.  No, what life is like is a lint roller.  How you think, what you look like, your likes and dislikes, your habits, in general, who you are, that’s all a result of the things (lint) you’ve experienced (rolled over) up until any given point in your life. 

Very little of the lint comes loose from the roller.  Although, one of the corollaries to the “life is like a lint roller rule” is ”Things that stick best are generally the dumbest, stupidest, least important, and worst for you.”  This is why 55 years after hearing it, I still remember the jingle for Clark Gasoline:
“Clark, Super 100 Gasoline,
Thousands say its best.
Largest selling independent gasoline
In the middle west.
Fill-up today,
You’ll know just what we mean.
Buy Clark, Super 100 gasoline.”

There are a lot of things stuck to the roller that show up in other ways.  What about that time you broke some little law and didn’t get caught.  Or that time you ate the last donut, even though you’d had your share.  The time you lied, yeah sure, just a little white one.  Well, there are a few guilt-induced worry lines on your forehead for those misdemeanors, partner.  And behind your forehead, deep in there, don’t you believe for a minute that you got away with anything; that stuff is in there to stay, and is a part of who you are.  Of course, not to dwell on the negative, that face in the mirror may show some smile lines too.  The more fun you had the worse they are.  I broke a lot of rules, but I’ve had a lot of fun too, so my face is a mess.

The examples set by parents and grandparents, the efforts of good teachers and bad, the paper route, the job you got just right, the one you screwed-up, your dog dies, your best friend dies too soon, September 11, your wedding, the birth of a child, are all pieces of lint on the roller, some lumpier than others.  But you ask, why am I still shocked when I look in the mirror?  Why do I look older than I feel?  Well, your only frame of reference is your past.  When you’re just walking around the house, driving down the street, whatever, you feel like those things you have experienced, you’re in the past.  You’re not dragged up to the present until the mirror gives you a good slap!  

I brought this all up, because of a phone conversation I had with my Mom last we week wherein we were discussing how we really don’t feel as old as we are.  And I said, “Well, we are who we have been.”  She wanted to know who I was quoting, and I said, “Hey, you’re talking to him.”  But to finish up, my advice is, and I’m sure Dr. Phil would back me up here, Stay away from mirrors!

Tractor News
You know, now that the tractor actually runs, it’s hard not to just go out to Gene’s and run it up and down the street.  I did one day drive it about two miles, out to the entrance to his development and back.  But I have been working.  My last three times out I’ve put in over 10 hours scrubbing the Pony’s rear end.  Here are a few shots of my work.

You can click on the images to enlarge and scroll through them.  I think I’ve got one more afternoon of this work with the degreaser, before I can then turn to wire brushing and sanding.  As you can see from the photos, I’ve had some beautiful days to work, so there will be no excuse not to keep moving forward.

I was just wondering what the Pony would think, if he could think, when HE looks in the mirror.  Oh, that’s right, he’s one of the lucky ones who’s had loads of plastic surgery.  No wonder there’s a mirror hanging on Gene’s garage wall.  Have a nice week everyone, and thanks for reading.

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Pony Irate over Horse Meat Scandal

Posted on March 2, 2013 | 1 Comment

A couple of weeks ago my neighbor, Art, and I went out on the bikes with no particular destination in mind.  Since Art hadn’t been out to see the Pony before, I suggested that we stop in at Gene’s and give the Pony a visit.  The Pony couldn’t believe I was the same guy that always shows up in jeans and a sweatshirt.  Here’s a shot Lynne took.

bruce 003a

Before we left, Lynne looked at us in our colorful cycling gear and said, “You guys look like serious riders.”  Art shot right back, “Any ride with this guy is serious.”  What does that mean?  I’m probably the least serious guy you’ll find.

Speaking of the Pony, now that he has “eyes” he’s started reading the paper on a regular basis.  The following article title was something that he never dreamed he’d see, “Meatball sales Suspended in Asia and Caribbean.”  It made him chuckle, and he wondered, “What will Italians put on their spaghetti if they’ve got no meatballs?”  Then he read that the meatballs were actually Swedish meatballs, and he wondered, “Why do Swedes need special meatballs?  Do they even eat spaghetti?”  That’s just the way the Pony’s mind works.  But as he read on, he was shocked. 

If you believe recent media reports, it appears some horse (read pony) meat has found its way into products that are supposed to be all beef.  The Pony is beside himself with a mixture of outrage and fear.  Butchering up dumb cows, well that’s understandable.  Any critter dumb enough to stand in a field blithely eating grass waiting for the lights to go out, hell, it gets what it deserves.  But horses, they’re strong, noble, intelligent and a great friend to man.  The Pony pointed out to me that before the farm tractor came along, the horse was responsible for keeping the American farm going.  He further pointed out that he is both a Pony and a tractor, essentially bridging the past with the future.  Brother, now that’s getting a little carried away.  Anyway, he’s asked that Gene and me make sure the garage is locked up tight at night just to make sure no one gets any ideas about turning him into meatballs, Swedish or otherwise.  Take it easy boy, we’ll protect you.

Just to keep you informed of “all things donut,” I saw something pretty clever recently in the N&O.  Realizing that most folks have trouble reading maps, but everyone knows where the donut shops are, they’ve devised a new donut-centric map-making program.  The map below was provided along with an article about some new low-income town homes going up over in Raleigh.

Krispie Kreme Map

Note how the writer has shown the location of the new development in relation to the nearest donut shop.  Perfect, I know exactly where that is!

Just a brief comment, I guess, question.  Every time you hear the “word du jour,” sequestration, do you immediately think like I do, castration?”  I sure hope the former hurts less than the latter?

How do you carve up a year?  With the passage of February, the IB sent a note saying that one sixth of the year was shot.  At age 65 time really flies.  Before I got too busy, I used to measure in terms of garbage days, 52 per year.  Daffodils coming up at the old cabin, once-a-year.  Visits to the dentist for the annual check-up, 2, but, man those seem to come up all the time.  Morning 40′s are dots on the calendar, generally 12 per month (right now there are 22).  Those seem to add up agonizingly slowly during the winter, but zoom by in the summer.  Two batches of new copperheads hatch; I see them squashed in the road, spring and fall.  Two broods of blue birds fledge, but in the odd year, three, which throws me all off.  Then in the category “so many you can’t count ‘em,” there are:  compliments on my hair (nose, almost as often), bold predictions that come true, ”killer” posts to this blog, and number of times The Princess says, “You know, you’re right.”  These all just fly by in a blur.

 However you carve them up, remember, we each get only so many.   My advice:  keep adding new categories.

Have a great weekend (they’re 28.5% of the year), and thanks for reading.

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Don’t Worry, The Pony Will Run

Posted on February 25, 2013 | 1 Comment

I’ve learned a lot while restoring the Pony, and of course, the job isn’t even done yet.  One thing I’ve learned is that you can do a lot if no one comes along and says, “You can’t do that.”  Or, if someone does say that, just don’t listen, and go ahead anyway.  If you’re lucky enough to get through the “can’t” stage, you can get through all kinds of disappointments, problems, and mistakes as long as someone else is around to say, “You can do that.”  When things seem bad and I can’t figure something out, Gene will always say, “Look at all you’ve learned so far.  You’ll figure this out too.”  And the Idiotic Brother, he must have said a hundred times, “Don’t worry, the Pony will run.”  Although, when he says that, sometimes I think he was indicating more faith in the reliability and indomitable strength of the combustion engine, than in my ability.

I was at one of those “can’t-figure-it-out” points last week.  While following this blog, have you ever asked yourself, “Gee, I wonder if I could restore an old tractor?”  Something occurred this past week that to me proved that anyone, I mean ANYONE, can do it.  Remember the beautiful job I did of restoring the front end steering and wheels?  Here are some “before and after” photos and a “way after” video.

front end beforefront end

Study the still images carefully.  What puzzled me ever since I put the Pony’s steering back together was why were the tie rods bumping into the tires when they hadn’t been doing that prior to restoration?  Careful study of the two still images, should give you the answer even though it didn’t help me.  Of course, when was the last time I studied anything, CAREFULLY?  If you think you’ve figured it out, now view the brief video below which shows the front end after I fixed the problem.

Click on the following brief video for the “way after” Video. 

Ok, how many of you figured out that initially I had the wheels installed backwards?  Talk about your idiotic author.  I not only installed the wheels backwards, but I drove the tractor at least 3 times before figuring out what was wrong.  But, the key thing is, once again I learned something, and I’ll bet I never make THAT mistake again.  By the way, in my defense, the valves were sticking out of the side of the wheel that faced in.  Heck, in a million years I wouldn’t have guessed the stems go on the inside.  Must be a tractor thing.  So, yes, if I can restore a tractor, even making mistakes like that, hell, anyone can do it!

On Sunday we had a pretty day here, and it only took me about half an hour to jack up the front end and flip the wheels around.  By the time I got that done Lynne was home and offered to take some video for me.  What follows are three videos of less than a minute each, which are the beginning, middle and end of a little test drive I took with the wheels properly installed.

Beginning
Middle
End

Gradually things are coming along, and a day like Sunday gets me “juiced-up” to finish the job.  With some consistent good weather, I’ll be able to get back to work painting the back 1/3 of the old beast.

Oh, I forgot to mention, I got a call from the folks at the “Guinea Pig Lab” a while back.  They had a deal where all they wanted was to ream out my nose (something I usually do myself), and take a sample of “snot” containing some of my precious nasal skin cells.  I know that by now y’all probably think I’ll do anything for money, and they were offering $65 for about an hour’s worth of my time, but I’ll tell you, I turned them down flat.  I said, “Thanks, but there’ll be no skin off my nose!”

Have a great week everyone, and in case you need someone to say it, believe me, “You can do it!
Thanks for reading.

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“Still,” That Was Quite an Explosion

Posted on February 19, 2013 | Leave a comment

This won’t be news to North Carolinians, but I thought the rest of you might have some fun with this.  Listen to this description contained in a News and Observer article, “…a fireball raced across North Carolina skies, followed by an explosion that shook the Eastern North Carolina town of Kinston.”  The event described, although remarkably similar to the recent meteorite that came down over Russia, occurred on December 4, 1934.  What’s great about the North Carolina incident, however, is that the assumption of most locals at the time was that “…a moonshine still had exploded.”  Sure, prohibition had just ended in 1933, but it says something to me about this state and its inhabitants, that a moonshine still explosion was everyone’s first thought when all the ruckus took place.  Getting back to that recent Russian explosion, now that I think about it, they do make one helluva lot of vodka over there, hmmm.  Next headline you’re going to see:  Cover-up at Russian, nuclear-powered vodka still.

After putting my little love note in the last post, The Princess has suggested that the recovery money from that recent gold crown that she “found” be applied to the Guinea Pig-O-Meter.   Her little Valentines Day gift.  Sounds fair to me, so look for a $48 “bump” in the G-O-M.  Thanks, Princess!

I was perusing the Daily Tar Heal (the UNC student-run newspaper) on Monday.  One of my ”must reads” is the Police Log.  The following item made me laugh,

“Someone reported loud music coming from a party at…12:29 am Wednesday, according to Carrboro police reports.  The officer on the scene heard Stevie Wonder’s ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ playing on the radio, reports state.

Talk about a slow night, that’s some detailed police report.  Catchy tune though, I always liked it.  And come to think of it, a great tune for Valentines Day.

Hey, Pony news, check out this photo of the Pony’s new “eyes.”

New Headlights

I installed the refurbished lights yesterday and Gene wired them up.  We flipped the switch, and after all the years in the woods, etc. one of the lights came immediately to life.  The other one, well, I’ll be calling NAPA in a few minutes.  As I left the garage I heard the Pony exclaim, “I can see!”

One last item, the following cartoon from a recent New Yorker is supplied as a service to readers, without  comment.

blogger cartoon 2

Everyone have a great week, and thanks for reading.

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A Grand Day Out

Posted on February 13, 2013 | 1 Comment

Last Sunday was the Pony’s best day.  I replaced the connectors on a leaking oil line, even used the special tool (boy that’s suggestive!) to cut and “flair” the copper line.  We hit the starter button, and just as it had the week before the engine started right up.  This time the engine ran much more smoothly, and just as important, the refurbished oil line didn’t leak anymore.  With that, we spent about half an hour reattaching and adjusting the throttle linkage.  It seemed to match up to the governer lever and the carb real well, so we decided to fire up the engine again and see how it all worked together.

The engine started, ran smoothly and when I fed gas using the throttle lever up on the steering column, it responded perfectly.  Wow, BTA (better than average)!  Gene backed his car out of the way, and I jockied the Pony out the door and down the drive.  Now, for the only bad news.  This is where I’d normally insert a video to document the Pony’s first really great day out.  After buzzing up and down the street once, I pulled into the drive and since Lynne had gone back into the house, I asked Gene to take some video.  I headed out onto the street again, getting the Pony really moving in third gear, even climbing a hill.  No problems.  Well, I found out after I got home that Gene is no videographer.  He got essentially “nuttin.”  You’re fired Gene; next time I’m switching back to Lynne.

But that’s a small downside.  We were both all smiles.  That evening I called the Idiotic Brother and reported the good news.  We talked about the initial days of working on the Pony and how so much of the Pony’s engine was frozen up, just a mess.  If you don’t remember it after two years, here are a few shots of what we found when we first opened-up the engine.

IMG_0402a IMG_0408a IMG_0409a

Why didn’t I just quit right then?  Can you believe that this engine is now running nice and smooth and pulling the Pony right along?  Amazing!  A number of folks have asked what I’ll be tackling next, and there’s still a LOT to do, but I’ve had the headlights all set to go for about a year now, and I’m thinking the Pony will steer better once he’s got his eyes, so I’ll be rigging those up next.

The Princess and I were out running errands today and were away from home when lunchtime rolled around.  “Let’s head over to P.F. Changs,” I said, ‘cus my pal George recommended it.”  This was one of those meals you could compare to the biblical parable of the “loaves and fishes.”  We shared an appetizer and we both ordered an entrée.  When the meals came out, our server said that the kitchen made a mistake and made the wrong entrée for one of us, and she said when they do that, they just give the table the wrong dish AND the right dish.  So, we ate all that we could, and our server boxed up the rest.  I put the bag of leftovers on the bathroom scale when we got home:  FOUR POUNDS!  Thanks for the recommendation, George.

When William Murdoch took over the Wall Street Journal there was a lot of complaining, but I actually like it better now than before.  There’s a lot more general news content, and a Personal Journal section has been added.  That section is pretty lame, but as I do with the cartoon section from our local rag, I always go to the Personal Journal section first.  Great stuff in there like “How to Pick-out a Handbag.”  I didn’t read this article, but why wouldn’t the answer to this one be just one sentence?  Buy one that’s black or brown and just big enough to hold all your stuff.  End of story.  Or, how about this article, “Can Decor’ Save Your Marriage?”  Hmmm, well again I didn’t read the article, because there’s a very short answer:  Yes, as long as it involves separate bedrooms.  Next, “Uncork the Nose’s Secret  Powers.”  Again, didn’t read it, this time because I’ve got a lot of personal experience.  Remember, my nose saved my life (see my post of July 24, 2012).  Now that’s power.  I can also smell the glaze on a donut from three blocks away.  Finally, from yesterday’s WSJ, and I’m not making this up, “Exercise Two Can Play.”  Come on, if you need to read this article, all is lost.

I came up the stairs yesterday and The Princess said, “Stay right there!”  She kinda scared me.  She went back into the bedroom, came out and told me to close my eyes and hold out my hand.  Something dropped into my palm, I opened my eyes, and Woo hoo, another Princess gold crown.  I KNEW she had two of those things, and suspected she was holding out on me after I cashed in the last one.  And sure enough, another nice, shiny, gold crown, I’d say heftier than the last, with no nasty tooth material inside.  Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy….Come on Pony boy, let’s cash that baby in and head on over to Tractor Supply.

I would be remiss if I did not take a moment to reflect on Valentine’s Day, which just as annoyingly Ground Hog Day, birthdays and pine pollen comes around once a year.  I went really crazy this year and bought The Princess $12.98 worth of roses at Trader Joe’s and as a special treat made an appointment for tomorrow with Social Security to sign up for benefits.  Talk about a major milestone for us.  That’s right, we’re “goin on the dole.”  My goal for the dole?  We’re going to try to beat my Grandma Kratzke’s record.  She started collecting at age 65 and took the government for 40 years worth. 

Roses are fine,
And Violets a bore,
We’ll take Social Security
Til ’54.

I love you, Princess.  And everyone else, oh heck, I love you too!

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Pony News Flash

Posted on January 31, 2013 | Leave a comment

The Pony is more than a little peeved.  It took the Idiotic Author about six weeks of fiddling to get him running again.  And the fix was so simple.  He wants it known that none of this was his fault.  Fine, I take full responsibility.  Gene and I went through the steps to time the engine yesterday, something I don’t remember us doing previously.  Here are the steps, straight from the Pony’s Operating and Service Manual.

Ignition Timing Steps

We followed the above steps, the whole procedure went perfectly and only took about 15 minutes.  Afterwords we hit the starter button, and the video below is the result.

VIDEO

Thanks for your patience Pony, and you folks to.  Woo hoooo!

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Ohhhh The Weather Outside is Postal

Posted on January 27, 2013 | 3 Comments

Dear Readers,

Please forgive the long absence.  I’ve got lots of excuses.  First, through a combination of errors including disease and pestilence up at Kuhns in the Fingeronkill Triangle, it took three weeks to get the Pony’s new carb out of there and down here.  Then, on attaching said carb to the Pony, we had absolutely no luck getting the engine started.  I went into a deep funk, which if measurable, would show up on a Funk-O-Meter as minus 2537, not-so-coincidentally the same number, plus a minus sign that’s in the C-O-M after the inclusion of the carburetor.  Once we decided on probable causes of the Pony’s stubbornness, however, horrid weather set in, and neither Gene nor I wanted to venture out into the garage.  How cold is it?  Well it’s so cold that the only thing running on the Pony is his nose  (24 degrees, mid-day today).

And as the musical headline suggests, today we are experiencing the Postman’s favorite combination:  rain, sleet and snow, and in a couple of hours “gloom of night” as well.   I was asked today when I’d be getting back to work on the Pony and not too confidently stated, next week.  So until then, I apologize and assure you that when things get moving again you all will be the first to know.  (This section was written Friday, but today, Saturday, the Weather Channel App promised a form of winter weather I’d never heard of, Freezing Fog.  What the#^*&@!)

With that we must move to non-Pony news.  Naturally if there’s news on the poop front, well that comes first.  And wouldn’t you know, since I wrote to you last, there have been a flurry of articles on the subject of curing intestinal disease with poop transplants from a healthy person.  Call it “poop therapy.”  Right away I thought, wow, becoming a poop donor would be a great way to boost the Guinnea Pig-O-Meter.  And I wouldn’t even have to give up any organs, just something nasty that I can’t use anyway.  This demanded some research. 

I’m sure many of you saw the articles when they hit the papers, but those articles for the most part didn’t give the graphic details I read when I went on-line to research this.  What I really wanted to know, is how do they get the poop in there.  Well, it turns out that’s something they are doing studies on right now.  Two techniques have been shown to be effective.  In one they mix “it” with saline solution and send it down a tube inserted in the patient’s mouth and down his throat.  In the other they do it via a colonoscopy.  My goodness, which to choose, jeez, I don’t know.  The dog we had as Andrew was growing up (her name was Snoopy) chose the first method.  Actually, she skipped the tube.  It was so cute…we’d see her in the dead of winter, out by the street, playing with frozen dog turds, flinging them up in the air, all the while nibbling on them.  And I’ll tell you, that dog had an “iron constitution.”

Actually, Snoopy may have been ahead of her time.  In one article I read, it is theorized that some day folks will simply be able to take a poop capsule, a “poopsule” so to speak, for the cure.  No, no, no, not the entire turd.  In this instance especially, I recommend “doing everything in moderation.”  Snoopy!  Moderation girl!

It’s sure hard to go down hill from that subject, so I won’t.  Let’s talk donuts, mmmm.  Once a week, I’m still going into downtown Chapel Hill to the Krispie Kreme, for a half-dozen donuts.  And that reminds me, of a related incident.  The parking meters downtown don’t need to be fed until 8:00 am.  I pulled into a spot just a hair before 8:00 and figured, they won’t swoop in before I get out with my warm little friends.  I came out though, at 8:07 and there was a ticket on the windshield.  Talk about tough on crime!  That day the price of my donut habit went up by $15.  I’m more careful these days.  But I digress. 

I believe I mentioned that the baker out in Saxapahaw makes dang good donuts too.  I’ve been eating them pretty regularly, and its a highpoint of the ”morning 40″ when I can sit out on the coffee shop deck and eat one with my coffee.  When the Princess and I lived in Philly, there was a Dunkin Donuts at every other intersection, so it was easy to assume that donuts were just a normal breakfast option.  But I’m not sure if you knew this, but donuts are  bad for you, oh yeah.  If you hang around nutritionists much (which I do in my volunteer gig) such “food” gets a really bad rap.  So I was thinking that there couldn’t be a much worse thing for you than that, when last week there in the bakery case, was a new challenge:  a donut with bacon in it!  I am not kidding.

Well, naturally I had to try it.  It was a cake donut, rolled in sugar, with tiny bacon bits inside.  Delicious!  I thought I’d gotten away with something, but on arriving back home I didn’t feel at all well.  And I didn’t feel well most of the afternoon.  Hmmm, maybe donuts in moderation too?

You’ve got to help me out here.  Is it just me that seems to get all the bad luck, or does stuff like this happen to you all too.  I bought a pair of top of the line Oakley sunglasses.  They were stolen off a table on the porch where I take my break down in Pittsboro.  Live and learn.  So I ordered  a new pair, $350 down the shoot.  I got them and wore them a while and noticed the lenses didn’t really fit in the frames.  The shop sent them back to Oakley to be fixed.  I got them back, I wore them some months, looked at them one day and saw that the lenses still didn’t fit in the frames.  Back into Oakley again.  I just got them back again, haven’t worn them yet, but I’m sure crossing my fingers.

Next, since I have a small optical issue, I get my eyes checked once a year in the ophthalmology department at UNC.  I thought this year maybe I’d have real professionals recheck my prescription, so had that done too.  I took the Rx over to the UNC optical shop just down the hall and picked out some fancy new lenses (they turn into tinted lenses when outside).  When I tried to wear the glasses, for a week, I noticed first, they don’t tint outside and second, they made my eyes want to bug open.  I won’t drag this out any longer, but it turns out the Rx was WAY off and the shop hadn’t asked the lab for the “transitions” lenses.  WHY IS EVERYTHING SO HARD!  Just going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing it’s not just bad luck, but massive incompetence. 

How much of our lives is spent tangled up in junk like this rather than on what we’d really like to be doing?  I guess the older I get the more I resent wasting what is truly a limited amount of time.  Perhaps there should be a different kind of “day of reckoning,” a day when we get to negotiate for a few more days on earth based on time lost that wasn’t our fault.  I think I’ll start keeping a list, just in case.
Sorry Bill, no photos this week, but thanks for reading.

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