Csaba Csere

Csaba Csere.

The other morning (Thursday, February 26, 2009) I read an interesting comment by Csaba Csere (“CHUBB-uh CHEDD-uh”), the head honcho at Car & Driver magazine.
It was apparently written after Congress had just loaned 17 billion dollars to General Motors and Chrysler.
It was advice to the so-called “car-czar,” the gumint appointee to see that GM and Chrysler actually remade their companies into viable auto-making institutions.
He wasn’t making the tiresome charge that their failing conditions were all the fault (“foult”) of the dreaded United Auto Workers.
The primary boondoggle (his opinion) was Detroit’s failure to ramp up in technology; that the dreaded ferriners had moved to four-valves-per-cylinder, and double-overhead-cams, while Detroit stuck with two-valves per cylinder, and the cam still in the block.
Also at issue was the ferriners adding speeds to their auto-trannies, while Detroit stuck with three speeds. Ferrin auto trannies became four and even five-speed. (I bet ya could find a six-speed auto-tranny.)
The ferriners also moved beyond the ancient tractor chassis layout: a solid sprung rear-axle, complete with heavy differential, while the ferriners moved to independent-rear-suspension.
Toyota and Honda are independent-rear-suspension, while the Cadillac Escalade is tractor layout.
And then there’s reliability, the downfall of Detroit.
If ya wanna car ya can depend on, ya buy Jap.
Wanna spend time in the shop, buy a Pontiac.
My old friend Lenore Friend (“Queeny” at the mighty Mezz) was always regaling me with stories about their horrible F150.
Our Chevrolet Astrovan was fairly reliable, but I had to replace the tranny lockout a couple times.
It was chintzy, a cheesy solenoid.
Before buying our Faithful Hunda, I pointed out a gas-door cable-release; remembering how the old one failed on our Volkswagen Dasher.
The dealer was afraid of losing the sale over a gas-door cable-release.
We had that car 13 years, and it always worked.
The Astrovan was newer (a ‘93; Honda was an ‘89), but the a gas-door cable-release failed.
I had to drive it with the gas-door open; I was always getting flagged — especially by toll-takers.
The Faithful Hunda had a raft of complex technology, but it always worked.
The Faithful Hunda was never in the shop.
The so-called soccer-mom Astrovan -a) broke a torsion-bar, and -b) ruptured an oil-seal.
Both were fixable, but that’s shop-time.
The Astrovan was also all-the-time throwing up a “check-engine” light.
Finally, Molye Chevrolet in nearby Honeoye Falls ascertained it had a failed oxygen-sensor.
That sensor was failed at least 60,000 miles.
We used the Astro to ride Auto-Train, and here was the “check-engine” light glowing at me intermittently driving back from D.C.
Csere also mentioned his employ at Ford, and how they see-sawed about bringing out a new V6 motor.
Back-and-forth they went — produce it and then not, produce it and then not, produce it and then not. Finally it was introduced, but suppliers had been put in a tizzy.
Ex-kyooze me, but the Europeans are operating under worse conditions than here in America, yet they managed to improve their technology.
Years ago Chevrolet lost me when Volkswagen started producing an overhead-cam motor they put in their Rabbit and Dasher.
The Chevrolet alternative was the bigger Citation powered by the Iron-Duke — half the Small-Block.
Vibrated like the dickens, and was still cam-in-block.
A venerable motor, but an antique.
And our Faithful Hunda was single overhead-cam, three valves per cylinder.
The CR-V is four valves per cylinder, as is the Bathtub (a V6), which is also variable valve-timing.
Does Detroit make any variable valve-timing at all?
Csere has hit the mark — as if I didn’t know that already. I’d like to go back to Chevrolet, but I need a car that runs. (And not to the shop.)
Csere also remarked how Detroit is mostly marketing trucks; which guzzle fuel like the dickens.
The Japs and Koreans are building what American needs — cars that are tiny enough to not use much gas.
Since when do I need a gigantic F350 “dually” to get to Weggers?
Chrysler is building the Neon here in America — Ford and GM seem to hafta source the Japs/Koreans — but the Neon ain’t that small.
I bet Hertz classifies it as a compact car, not the smallest. (Ford’s tiny Focus is compact.)

I’ve been a subscriber to “Car & Driver magazine” since college — over 40 years. —I’m a car-fan.

RE: “Foult......” —For years my brother-from-Delaware and I have been having an argument about the spelling of “Foulk” Road. When we moved there in 1957 it was spelled “F-a-u-l-k.” He noisily insists it’s always been spelled with an “O.” So I spell “fault” as “foult.”

“Dreaded United Auto Workers.......” —All my siblings are flagrantly anti-union, and noisily claim the reason the American automobile industry is tanking is because of the United Auto Workers.

“Ferriners” are foreigners. “Ferrin” equals foreign.

“Four-valves-per-cylinder, and double-overhead-cams” is recent internal combustion engine technology, and “two-valves per cylinder, and the cam still in the block” is engine technology introduced in the ‘50s. Earlier the engines were “side-valve;” intake and exhaust valves in the engine-block beside the cylinders; a “flat-head;” so-called because the engine cylinder-head was a simple flat casting that capped everything. Lawnmower engines, etc, (small engines) still do it this way. In the ‘50s overhead-valve technology found flower, since it vastly improved the shape of the combustion-chamber, making it much smaller and less contorted. But the engine-valves were still opened by a rotating camshaft down in the block, but with pushrods and rockers that reversed the valve-motion about 180°. —Four valves per cylinder breathe much better than two, and locating the camshafts up in the cylinder-head, directly over the valves, is less likely to vibrate harmonically than pushrod technology. “Double-overhead-cams” is a camshaft for each valve-bank; one for all the intake valves; the other for the exhaust-valves. A “single-overhead-cam” requires -a) both the intake and exhaust valves all line up, and/or -b) rockers to operate the valves that don’t line up. The old way is cheaper, but the new way more advantageous.

An “auto-tranny” is an automatic transmission.

The “tractor chassis layout” is essentially the same as a farm-tractor: a solid rear axle, solid between both wheels. “Independent-rear-suspension” is a rear axle in two halves, each independently sprung. In this arrangement the heavy center differential is mounted to the car, independent of the axles. The “tractor chassis layout,” with the heavy center differential a part of the rear axle, is the arrangement used since time immemorial. “Independent-rear-suspension” can better handle bumps that only contact one side; the “tractor chassis layout” disturbs both wheels even though only one side hits the bump. —I had a ‘72 Chevrolet Vega GT, that handled fairly well except over bumps. It had a “tractor chassis layout,” and jumped sideways over bumps.

My all-knowing, blowhard brother-from-Boston, the macho ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, called my Chevrolet Astrovan a “soccer-mom minivan” as a put-down, since he noisily declared they weren’t macho enough.

The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over three years ago. Best job I ever had. —Lenore Friend was an editor there. I called her “Queeny” because she was the queen-of-the-newsroom.

An “F150” is the Ford half-ton pickup truck.

“The Faithful Hunda” is our 1989 Honda Civic All-Wheel-Drive station-wagon, by far the BEST car we’ve ever owned, now departed (replaced by our 2003 Honda CR-V). (Called a “Hunda” because that was how a fellow bus-driver at Transit [Regional-Transit-Service in Rochester, where I once worked] pronounced it.)

The “Iron-Duke” was the name for a 2.5-liter four-cylinder engine offered by General Motors. —The Chevrolet “Small-Block” V8 was introduced at 265 cubic-inches displacement in the 1955 model-year. It continued production for years, first at 283 cubic inches, then 327, then 350. Other displacements were also manufactured. The Chevrolet “Big-Block” V8 was introduced in the 1965 model-year at 396 cubic-inches, and was unrelated to the Small-Block. It was made in various larger displacements: 402, 427 and 454 cubic inches. It’s still made as a truck-motor, but not installed in cars any more; although you can get it as a crate-motor, for self-installation. The Iron-Duke was half the 5-liter Small-Block V8, although vertical.

“D.C.” is Washington, D.C.; actually Lorton VA, near Washington, the northern Amtrak Auto-Train terminal. (Auto-Train saves your driving to Floridy on I-95. Your car goes with you in the same train. — The train ends at Sanford, FL; in the northern part of the state.)

The front of the Chevrolet Astrovan is spring by “torsion-bars” parallel to the frame; springs but not coil-springs.

The “CR-V” is our 2003 Honda CR-V SUV, which replaced the Faithful Hunda when it was totaled in a crash. The “Bathtub” is our 2005 Toyota Sienna van; called that because it’s white and like sitting in a bathtub. (It replaced our Astrovan.)

“Variable valve-timing” is to open-and-close the valves at times that maximize low-speed and then high-speed performance. (At low speed the exhaust valves need to open earlier; but as engine-speed increases, the exhaust valves should open later.) Static valve-timing maximizes one or the other, or compromises both. Variable valve-timing is very hard to engineer, and costly.

The “F350 dually” is the one-ton Ford pickup truck with double tires (total: four) on each side of the real axle. Such a truck is HUGE, and with four rear tires can support a heavy trailer.

“Weggers” is Wegmans, a large supermarket-chain based in Rochester we often buy groceries at.

“What’s that Moon doing up there?”

One of my duties at the mighty Mezz was as the keeper of the vaunted weather almanac information.
I didn’t actually do the weather-page; but I kept and supplied the information that appeared on it. Sunrise, sunset, moonrise, moonset, etc.
I inherited this job from Peggy Carroll (“Carol”) when she retired; the whole kabosh was dumped on me.
Part of the information was -a) local precipitation the previous day, and; -b) the height above sea-level of Canandaigua lake.
The Canandaigua city sewer department was on Canandaigua Outlet, and they had a rain-gauge, and also a gauge that showed the lake-level.
Every morning they’d call this information to me, although occasionally I had to call them.
Rarely there were times those two values weren’t available, so we’d just publish “not available.”
The page deadline was 9:30 a.m. or so.
If there was no information, and it was approaching 9:30, I’d call them. “Not available” hardly ever happened.
For years it was a guy named “Al,” but then Al retired. Regrettably, I never met him; much as I wanted to.
The suggested lake-level varied over the year, up in summer, down in winter. But it was only a few feet.
We had a chart of lake-levels suggested by the Army Corps of Engineers.
The sewer guys regulated the outflow to try to meet these suggestions, but a good rainstorm could throw a monkey-wrench into their best laid plans.
They couldn’t dump a whole lot into the Outlet, since that flooded the Outlet.
One time we got a phonecall from an angry shore owner; the lake-level was so low he couldn’t dock his boat.
The call got directed to me.
“Um, we don’t regulate the lake-level,” I said. “We just report it.”
The astronomical events (sunrise, moonrise, etc.) were gleaned from a Farmer’s Almanac.
I was shown factors to add to the Almanac times, that were apparently Boston.
I never liked it; felt it was imprecise.
One afternoon I walked out of our garage at our house in West Bloomfield, and.....
“What’s that Moon doing up there? I had it setting three hours ago.”
The factors and the Farmer’s Almanac were imprecise.
I set about Googling astronomical events, and hit the Naval Observatory site.
VIOLA! I could plug in “Canandaigua,” and it gave the times of sunrise-sunset-moonrise-moonset specific to Canandaigua.
I threw out the Farmer’s Almanac — never again. Naval Observatory site from now on.
At last the sunrise-sunset-moonrise-moonset times were precise.
Toward the end of my employ, they wanted to make the weather-page an advance page; done the night before publication.
Okay up to a point.
I could supply all the information needed except -a) the publication-day’s lake-level, and -b) the previous day’s precipitation.
Around-and-around we went.
I suggested holding the page until I got those two values, and then just plugging them in.
But, of course, that made doing the page the night before impossible, so the previous day’s values ran with a slew of qualifications and explanations. (I.e. the lake-level was a day old, and the precipitation two days old.)
Don’t know how it was resolved — I retired about then — but our readers were angry. Loud blustering phonecalls, and Granny at the receptionist-desk with her Uzi.
Similar to the time we inadvertently left out the Lottery.

The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over three years ago. Best job I ever had. —It was a post-stroke job. (I had a stroke October 26, 1993.) Started as an unpaid intern at first.

An “advance page” was a newspaper page done well in advance of publication, usually at least the day before. Often the inside pages, that were mainly calendar items, could be done in advance. The lake-level of the day of publication could not be gotten a day early. (The lake-level and precipitation of the day before were only two numbers — a potential plug-in of seconds.)

RE: “Granny at the receptionist-desk with her Uzi.......” —We got this a lot. Angry grandmothers at the receptionist-desk spouting flames. (“Uzi” is the Uzi assault rifle.) We also got loudly castigated over the phone by the so-called “grammar-police.”

One time the newspaper inadvertently left out the N.Y. state Lottery results, causing weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. (The most important thing we published in that newspaper was the Lottery results.)

More mighty Mezz monkeyshines

A number of things determine how newspaper copy appears on a page: leading, paragraph indent, word spacing, hyphenation, tracking, last-line of paragraph.
All of these things are fiddleable in Quark®, the pagination software we used at the mighty Mezz.
Someone may have already set up the Quark template for that, or it may have been a default.
I should mention in advance the two ways of laying out copy in a column: ragged-right (or left), and justified. —There is also “centered,” but it’s rarely done.
“Justified” is column-width. The line of copy is expanded to fill the column. Spacing between letters (“tracking”) is expanded.
“Ragged-right” is lined up against the left edge of the column, and then equal spacing between letters; the right ends of a line fall where they may. (This here blog is ragged-right.)
Ragged-left is the opposite.
Centered is ragged at both sides, but centered in the column.
—Tracking is the spacing between letters. Increase it, and the spacing increases; make it a negative number, and the letters step on each other.
Tracking is always the same in a typewriter, and the width of letter-slugs is always the same. That is, the width of an “m” is the same as an “e,” and an “i” the same width as an “e.”
Doesn’t have to be that way in ‘pyooter text. The “e” is wider than the “i,” and the “m” wider still.
For a typewriter to work, letter-width has to always be the same, and a ‘pyooter can mimic that.
But the text in a ‘pyooter can be just like book copy; varying widths per letter.
Our newspaper’s tracking looked okay.
—Paragraph-indent also looked okay. That’s the indent of the first line of a paragraph.
—Word-spacing was the hairball; the spacing between adjacent words. If only two words could fit a justified line, the gap between adjacent words was too large.
If the paragraph was ragged-right, this didn’t happen. But if it was justified, it could.
—It looked like hyphenation had been turned off — that is, no hyphenation. Hyphenation could be set at one-to-three syllables, or none. Someone may have set it at “none,” so I wasn’t inclined to reset it.
—Leading was the vertical spacing between lines.
Make it a negative number, and the lines stepped on each other.
Leading looked okay, so I left it alone.
Also fiddleable was the spacing (“leading”) between paragraphs.
This looked okay, although I fiddled it in my Senior Calendar. I increased the leading between paragraphs.
—Last-line was whether the last line of a paragraph justified or not. I forget how this was set; but had (have) seen the last line justify the width of the column.
This looks awful; should be ragged-right. The rest of the paragraph could justify, but not the last line.
Shortly after we ‘pyooterized, the copy in the newspaper looked a bit wonky.
The spacing between words on a line was too wide.
I pointed this out to BossMan (Bob Matson, Executive-Editor), and he agreed, but said it was something we had to just live with.
I’d seen page-editors generate the same hairballs, and then throw up their hands. A solution was to fiddle each gap manually, but that added hours to page-generation.
So my wife and I thought we’d experiment. I had the same Quark software at home.
We fiddled a bit with the template the newspaper used, and came up with a new word-spacing amount that didn’t look so awful.
Showed the result to Matson, and what ho, it seems they started using my template.
Years have passed since then, and I’m sure various Quark templates have gone into use since mine.
Although occasionally a last line justifies across the column-width.
Looks silly, but how much time do ya wanna waste fiddling for appearance when the printing deadline is looming? (I was doing that experiment at home, free of a deadline.)

The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over three years ago. Best job I ever had.

“Quark®” is the computer pagination software our newspaper used. At that time it was version 4.1; I still have 4.1 on my computer —it’s enough for what I wanna do. I’m sure The Messenger uses a more recent version; Quark-8 is available.

The “Quark template” determined how copy-text flowed into a Quark page.

“Senior Calendar” was a calendar of events for senior-citizens for our weekly Seniors Page. I was the one who did this.

“‘Pyooter” is computer.

RE: “Shortly after we ‘pyooterized......” —When I began, the newspaper-pages were “pasted up” on cardboard page dummies, waxed copy-galleys attached. Then the completed page was photographed by a large camera to make a negative a printing-plate could be burned from. —Later during my employ, the newspaper computerized: the newspaper pages were entirely generated in a computer, which then sent the completed page to an image-processor, which created negatives for burning printing-plates. —A better process would been “direct-to-plate,” whereby the computer sends the completed page to the printing-plate; but this costs megabucks.

My wife of 41+ years is “Linda.” The employ she retired from was as a computer-programmer.

Troops list

For almost 10 years I worked at the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper.
It was a post-stroke job. Started as an unpaid intern at first. It was part-time for quite a while, but then they doubled my wage and made me full-time, so I could get off Social Security Disability.
It also turned into the best job I’d ever had.
Pay was piddling, so a job-counselor at my post-stroke rehab offered to try and get my job back driving bus.
I told him I wasn’t interested.
Driving bus would have paid gobs more, but I enjoyed working at that newspaper.
Toward the end, I was back to part-time, and updating the newspaper’s daily web-site.
I had the leeway to do whatever was necessary to make that thing fly.
Our web-service, or us, often screwed up, or they just plain bombed, so it might take extra time to fix things.
I also could fix things at home, since I had the tools needed on my home ‘pyooter. I’d view it at home to see if it had flown right, since the time needed for it to publish was about the time needed for me to drive home.
—Although starting from scratch meant going back to the newspaper.
I was always pushing the envelope; trying to fly as many pictures as possible.
I don’t remember exactly how our web-service charged.
They seemed to have a megabyte display limit, but I wasn’t testing it.
I’d figure the time needed by me to fly another picture, and fly as many as I could.
I was always accused of flying too many pictures, but my take was it was a visual medium, and if I could afford the time, I might as well do them.
The newspaper was running a huge listing of troops overseas, and wouldn’t have published that list on their web-site.
But I figured it would only take me 20 minutes or so to prep it, since it was already a ‘pyooter-file anyway.
So I’m flyin’ it.
One day everything had flown right, and I was done the web-site in about three hours.
A grizzled ex-Marine was at the receptionist window as I was putting on my rubbers.
“I see your newspaper is publishing a list of troops overseas,” he said. “We at the Veterans of Foreign Wars would like to have it.”
“Hold it!” I interjected. “I just flew that list on our web-site. It’s a ‘pyooter-file. All somebody has to do is copy/paste it. They won’t even have to type it.”
Utterly buffaloed, grizzled ex-Marine trudged back out. —Without the printed list.
Back to the VFW and get some computer-geek to do what I had suggested.

I had a stroke October 26, 1993.

For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY.

“‘Pyooter” is computer.

RE: “Megabyte.....” —Equals a thousand computer bytes. Text isn’t much, but a picture has thousands of bytes. Our web-site had a megabyte display limit.

Hell-oooo; knock-knock. Anybody home?

Principal Financial Group, one of my retirement accounts, tells me it has incomplete information (dread).
Um, my employment status is “retired.”
Yet they wanna know my occupation.
Hell-oooo; knock-knock. Anybody home?
Reminds us of Excellus (Blue Cross in our area).
89 bazilyun phone calls to “straighten things out.”
Welcome to Medicare.
You are eligible. Take it or else!
As a retiree from Regional Transit Service, I am entitled to health coverage equal to what I had when I worked there. (Thank ya, ATU.)
Being eligible for Medicare means a backtrack in my health insurance. It becomes supplementary to Medicare.
Linda could have continued under my Transit health insurance, but if I kick the bucket, she has nothing,
So she decided to continue the health insurance she had at her employ, which is Aetna, although inferior (thank ya, private sector).
It too is supplementary to Medicare.
Get everything in line.
Excellus discontinues everything, including her dental insurance, which wasn’t supposed to happen.
The all-knowing and wizened managers at Regional Transit, who are on donut-break ALL DAY after 8 a.m., tell me I don’t need to do anything.
Yet I have to apply for supplementary coverage.
Sure, call up Principal and get put on hold for hours (“Please hold during the silence: boom-chicka-boom-chicka-boom-chicka-boom-chicka. We value your call. It will be answered in India in about two hours. Please keep holding; your call will be answered in the order it was received.”)
When they finally answer, they go ballistic because I can’t make sense of needing an occupation if I’m retired.
(My values are all wrong; shoulda got ‘em at Wal*Mart.)

For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY. My stroke October 26, 1993 ended that. “ATU” is the nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union. Our local (at the bus-company) was an affiliate.

“Linda” is my wife of 41+ years — she was supposed to be coinsured under my RTS union-employee dental-insurance.

All my siblings are flagrantly anti-union; claiming the “private sector” is superior.

My siblings all noisily claim Wal*Mart is the greatest store in the entire universe.

model train show

(All photos by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100 with flash.)

At the model train show.

Last Saturday (February 21, 2009) I took my old friend Art Dana (“DAY-nuh”) to a model train show put on by Greenberg shows at the Dome Center in deepest, darkest Henrietta, NY.
Constant readers of this here blog, if there actually are any at all, will know that Art Dana is like me a retired bus-driver, and has fairly severe Parkinson’s Disease.
Art started driving bus before me, and retired from bus-driving well after my stroke.
We have similar interests, especially cars and trains, and I take him places since he can’t get around that well.
I was looking for an HO GG1 model, and I saw a few at the RIT model train show I attended at Rochester Institute of Technology.
Anyone who reads this here blog knows I consider the Pennsylvania Railroad’s GG1 electric locomotive to be the greatest railroad locomotive ever.
An incredible melding of raw speed and power with great styling — detailing by industrial designer Raymond Loewy.
I saw plenty as a teenager, and it seems every time I saw one it was doing 90-100 mph.
Which is why I want one; to go with my models of a TWA Lockheed Constellation, which is the greatest airplane ever, and my McLaren M8D racecar, which is the greatest automobile ever, an incredible melding of the Chevrolet Big-Block motor with HUGE tires and a fabulous chassis — incredibly light.
The ultimate hot-rod.
Despite the challenge of Parkinson’s Disease — Art has the shakes — Art is building a model-railroad layout, although I doubt it will look very real.
Perhaps even less real than the average model-railroad layout, which always has too much track to look real.
Art wants to do a 4 x 8 sheet of plywood to start, and it may only be a table to support track, on which to run his model trains.
Art is a sucker for bargains, which these model train shows usually have — the main reason he wanted to attend that show at RIT.
And he’s right. If I’d known any better I’d have left the RIT show with a GG1 model — nothing of interest at the Greenberg show in Henrietta.
Vendors set up, so that a model-train show is mainly vendors.
And hardly any customers were at the RIT show, so the vendors were letting stuff go for a pittance.
I probably coulda got an HO GG1 model for $70 or so; and perhaps one with the Brunswick-Green body and single yellow stripe I prefer.
Saw only one GG1 at the Greenberg show, and it was silver (but at least Pennsy, not Amtrak) with a single red stripe. $70; PASS! A nice model but wrong color.
Art was looking for “anything Santa Fe, and New York Central F-units.”
This was because he already has a Santa Fe Northern (4-8-4) steam-engine, and a bunch of classic dark-green Santa Fe passenger cars he picked up at that RIT show.
We arrowed toward the Dome Center, but became embroiled with the new Henrietta Weggers, a gigantic palace built on Dome Center land.
Weggers has walled off itself from the Dome Center, so we had to navigate back out. Watch out for Granny with her big-as-a-Buick shopping kart.
That Dome Center has to be at least 30-40 years old, and is smack in the middle of land for the Monroe County Fair.
But now some of that land has been sold to mighty Weggers, so they could build that palace.
Car parked, we ambled into the Dome Center; $7 each to enter, no discount for us Seniors.
The Dome Center is about two-thirds the size of the fieldhouse the RIT show was in. So there wasn’t that much to see.
We located Leif’s Sales and Service, Ltd., the people not far from where I live that sold me my zero-turn lawnmower, and also sell model-trains.
“We’re looking for New York Central F-units,” I said to the guy’s wife.
“F-what?” she asked.
“Please try to control yourself,” I said.
“You’re making me laugh,” she said.
“Any idea what an F-unit is?” she asked her son. “I have no idea myself.”
“Is this thing an F-unit?” she asked me.
“All these are F-units,” I said; “but none are New York Central.”
“What about this?” pointing to a cab-unit painted in the New York Central gray lightning-stripe scheme.
“Nope,” I said; “that’s a Shark.”
“What about this?” she asked, pointing to another lightning-stripe cab-unit.
“Nope; that’s a Fairbanks-Morse C-liner,” I said.
“Shark, C-liner, F-unit, Alco FA; I don’t know any of this stuff,” she said. “But you gotta write them guys at the Curve again sometime, and offer to get ‘em a new web-cam. That thing hasn’t been working for months. How are we supposed to eat lunch?”

This is an actual steam-locomotive, everyone.

Art walked outta the show with —A) six pieces of HO Code-100 Flexi-Track in three-foot lengths, the same stuff Bruce Stewart and I built his layout out of back in 1959; —B) a manual on repair of HO model-railroad equipment (“I can’t get the boiler of my Santa Fe Northern off the frame, Hughsey”), and —C) a Norfolk & Western Baldwin diesel road-switcher.
-RE: the Flexi-track..... “So what’s the difference between Code-100 and Code-83 track, Art,” I asked; “aside from the fact it’s cheaper?”
“Code-83 is more realistic; the rail is more scale, lower.” Art said. “But I just wanna get up and running.”
-RE: the N&W diesel....... “This thing steam-era, Hughsey?” Art asked.
“Well, late ‘40s, and early ‘50s,” I said; “the end of steam.”
Art had considered a U-Boat, but I said it wasn’t steam era.
I should add that model steam-locomotives usually cost quite a bit more than diesels; usually $100 or more. A diesel might cost $50-$70.
Lotsa B-units, and unpowered dummies; plus a NYC F-unit configured for DCC operation. “I can’t do that yet, Hughsey. Maybe some day; but right now I hafta operate the old way.”
So here we are returning back home toward Art’s humble abode in Pittsford, driving traffic-clogged Monroe Ave. next to Pittsford-Plaza.
Bumper-to-bumper. Locked solid. A parking-lot.
Suddenly a glittering black Lexus crossover pulls right out in front of me, and cuts me off.
“Hughsey,” Art says; “that lady didn’t look at all. She just drove right out in front of you.”
“Well, of course, Art,” I said. “I gave her a break. You’da done the same thing. We drove bus. It’s either —a) assert my macho manhood and risk a tee-bone, or -b) give her a break. Which keeps us going?”

The cap-pistols.

Back at Art’s, “here, Hughsey. You’ll wanna see my old cap-pistols.
We’re cleaning stuff outta my old house in Rochester, my sister and I after my wife died, and we were planning to move to the house in Pittsford. I wonder what happened to my old cap-pistols. Figured they were gone forever.
‘Hey, look what I just found in the basement,’ says my sister at our house in Pittsford.”
Old cap-pistols taken out and revealed.
“Holy mackerel,” I exclaimed to Art. “Don’t let go of them things!”
“An estate appraiser was organizing all our stuff for the estate-sale, and asked if I had any old toys. I told him about the cap-pistols, but said they weren’t for sale.
‘Can I at least see ‘em?’ he asked.
I showed him the cap-pistols, and he said ‘I’m leaving with them cap-pistols: $300.’
‘No you’re not! Not for sale.’ I said. I wouldn’t part with them things for even $1,000.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Just take care of them things. I wouldn’t part with ‘em either.’”

RE: “‘Old guy’ with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.......” —My macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston, who is 13 years younger than me, calls me “the old guy” as a put-down (I also am the oldest). I also am loudly excoriated by all my siblings for preferring a professional camera (like the Nikon D100) instead of a point-and-shoot. This is because I long ago sold photos to nationally published magazines.

“Deepest, darkest Henrietta” is a rather effusive and obnoxious suburb south of Rochester.

For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY. My stroke October 26, 1993 ended that.

“HO” gauge is 16.5 mm between the rails, half-O gauge. HO has become the standard for model-railroading, although there is an even smaller gauge: “N.” —HO gauge is 1=87.086.

Rochester Institute of Technology is a technology college near Rochester. It has a model-train club called “Tiger Tracks” (the college’s mascot is the RIT Tiger). They held a model-train show a few months ago.

The Chevrolet “Big-Block” V8 was introduced in the 1965 model-year at 396 cubic-inches. It was made in various displacements: 402, 427 and 454 cubic inches. It’s still made as a truck-motor, but not installed in cars any more; although you can get it as a crate-motor, for self-installation. The Chevrolet “Small-Block” V8 was introduced at 265 cubic-inches displacement in the 1955 model-year. It continued production for years, first at 283 cubic inches, then 327, then 350. Other displacements were also manufactured. —Their Can-Am motor was a lightweight aluminum casting.

The McLaren M8D racecar dominated the “Can-Am” (Canadian-American Challenge Cup series — Sports Car club of America [SCCA]), about 1968-’72, for unlimited, fully-fendered open sports roadsters that would seat two. —Team McLaren won a few championships, and dominated.

“Brunswick-Green” was the Pennsylvania Railroad’s standard locomotive color.

“Pennsy” is the Pennsylvania Railroad, no longer in existence. It merged with New York Central Railroad in 1968 as Penn-Central, and that tanked in about eight years. “Pennsy” was once the largest railroad in the world.

“Mighty Weggers” is Wegmans, a large supermarket-chain based in Rochester we often buy groceries at.

An “F-unit” is ElectroMotive’s freight diesel-electric cab-unit railroad locomotive introduced in 1939 — the freight locomotive that dieselized railroads. ElectroMotive Division of General Motors is GM’s manufacturer of diesel railroad-locomotives. Most railroads used EMD when they dieselized; although many now use General-Electric diesel railroad-locomotives.

The “Curve” (“Horseshoe Curve”), west of Altoona, Pennsylvania, is by far the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to. Horseshoe Curve is a national historic site. It was a trick used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use. (I am a railfan, and have been since I was a child.) —Horseshoe Curve has a web-cam, but it’s awful, and currently not working. (I made them an offer to replace the clear-plastic housing, which was smudged.)

“Bruce Stewart,” a year older than me, was my next-door neighbor while growing up as a teenager on the northern suburbs of Wilmington, DE. Like me, he was a railfan.

“Amtrak” is a government corporation promulgated in 1970 to take over rail passenger service. It mainly runs passenger trains over the independent railroads with its own equipment, but it it also owns and operates its own railroads; e.g. the old Pennsy electrified line from New York City to Washington D.C., the so-called “Northeast Corridor;” although the Corridor has been extended to Boston over the old New York, New Haven & Hartford line.

Our “zero-turn” is our 48-inch Husqvarna riding-mower; “zero-turn” because it’s a special design with separate drives to each drive-wheel, so it can be spun on a dime. “Zero-turns” are becoming the norm, because they cut mowing time in half compared to a lawn-tractor, which has to be set up for each mowing-pass.

“New York Central” Railroad was the east-coast railroad that competed with Pennsy, based mainly in New York state (Pennsy in PA).

A “Shark” was a railroad cab-locomotive, styled by Raymond Loewy, and manufactured by Baldwin Locomotive Works. (Baldwin Locomotive Works was a main manufacturer of railroad steam locomotives. They began offering diesel-electric railroad locomotives when the railroads started dieselizing [e.g. the “Shark”], but eventually failed.) The “Shark” was very attractive, but not very reliable.

The “Fairbanks-Morse C-liner” was a railroad diesel-electric cab-unit made in the late ‘40s by Fairbanks-Morse.

“Alco” is American Locomotive Company of Schenectady, NY. For years, American Locomotive Company was a primary manufacturer of railroad steam locomotives. (It was originally a merger of many steam locomotive manufacturers.) —With the changeover by railroads to diesel-locomotives, American Locomotive Company brought out a line of diesel-electric railroad locomotives much like the railroads were switching to, and changed its name to “Alco.” Alco tanked a while ago; they never competed as well as EMD.

A “road-switcher” is a special design, as opposed to a full cab-unit, with both a short and long end. The long end contains the motor/generator, and the short end not much of anything. The locomotive can be easily operated in either direction, due to enhanced visibility compared to a cab-unit. (Cab-units [e.g. F-units] are no longer made; railroads use “road-switchers.)

RE: “This is an actual steam-locomotive......” —A small alcohol-fired boiler in the engine boils steam for propulsion.

The U-Boat was General Electric’s first attempt to market a general diesel-electric freight locomotive after splitting with Alco (American Locomotive Company in Schenectady, long out of business). At that time (1960), most diesel-electric railroad locomotives were from General-Motors’ ElectroMotive Division (EMD). —Now GE dominates the railroad locomotive market, and EMD is playing catch-up. Railfans nicknamed them U-Boats following GE’s “U” nomenclature. “U” stood for Utility.

A “B-unit” is a cabless version of an A-unit. No operating cab; but a power-unit that can be linked to, and operated by, an A-unit.

“Unpowered dummies” are locomotive models without a motor.

“DCC” (Digital Command Control) is individual control of one or more model-railroad locomotives on the same track. The locomotives have tiny computers inside, so that the locomotive can be controlled individually. —The “old” way was to vary the current in the track, so that all trains on that track responded en masse to track-current.

“The N&W diesel” appeared to be a Baldwin road-switcher. —N&W (“Norfolk & Western) no longer exists; it was merged years ago into Norfolk Southern Railway. N&W was very successful; it served the Pocahontas coal region in VA, WV, and KY.

RE: The need for engineers

For 5-6 years I was on the Boughton (“BOW-tin;” as in “OW”) Park Commission, the volunteer Board that administered the so-called elitist country-club.
We’d hold a meeting every month, the regular monthly meeting of the Boughton Park Commission.
Lotsa elitist engineers presented various wacko proposals to deal with who knows what. —I remember once having a beaver problem, and showing around an Agent from the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (“NYSDEC”), a beaver-expert.
After parting brambles and hiking down to pond-side, he viewed a beaver-hutch and said: “Yep; ya got beavers!”
Some engineer proposed a wacko solution. Seems it involved poisons of some sort, and/or building huge coffer-dam systems and rerouting creeks.
One proposal stands above all the others.
It had been determined that our East Pond was dead — that is, it had so little oxygen that any fish we stocked in it all died.
So we were told it needed to be aerated.
Okay, proposals needed to aerate pond.
One was some gizmo an engineer proposed that seemed like something R.G. LeTourneau would propose: “Ain’t nuthin ya can’t do with the faith of a mustard-seed, and a tanker-load a’ diesel.”
Suggested was this air-powered gizmo that floated on the pond-surface, its windmill powering an underwater churn that created bubbles to aerate the pond.
We all glanced at each other, as if to ask “is this guy for real?”
The engineer suggested two gizmos.
The pond is probably more than 300 acres, so how in the wide, wide world are them two gizmos gonna aerate that pond?
“So what’s it gonna actually do?” someone asked after the presentation.
“Line the pockets of the engineer,” someone snapped.

I’m sure some self-absorbed engineer has already been consulted regarding the West Bloomfield Town Hall.
But anything he proposes is gonna get considered by a board of citizens — much like the Boughton Park Commission.
AND THEY ARE SKEPTICAL, especially knowing how engineers are. (They think THEY [and only they] have the solutions to all the world’s problems; yet WOOPS, there goes the Floridy power-grid. Labeled a “human performance anomaly,” or something, but actually it was some Git-R-Dun engineer.)

“The so-called elitist country-club” is nearby Boughton Park, where I run and we walk our dog. It was called that long ago by an editor at the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, where I once worked, because it will only allow taxpayers of the three towns that own it to use it. We are residents of one of those towns. —I was on their Commission.

RE: “Elitist engineers........” —My loudmouthed macho brother-from-Boston, the ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, was trained as an engineer, and noisily claims superiority. I majored in History, so am therefore vastly inferior.

“R.G. LeTourneau” was the founder of LeTourneau University in Texas; where my blowhard brother-in-Boston was trained as an engineer. —LeTourneau (now dead) was a tub-thumping born-again Christian who’s greatest contribution to technology was electric-drive for the individual wheels of construction equipment. But he also invented lotsa wacko machines, including a gigantic diesel-powered tree-crusher, that could wipe out a whole forest in one fell swoop.

RE: “I’m sure some self-absorbed engineer has already been consulted regarding the West Bloomfield Town Hall.......” —This refers to my Town Hall blog.

“There goes the Floridy power-grid” is something I keep saying to my brother-in-Boston when he brags about the mental superiority of engineers (and he is one). —Last year half the Florida power-grid was disabled by an operator trying to fix things, and disregarding procedure. The guy was an engineer. My brother called that a “human performance anomaly.”

3713 tee-shirt

At long last I have my 3713 tee-shirt (pictured).
I ordered it almost three months ago.
3713, “The Constitution,” is the last of Boston & Maine Railroad’s Pacific (4-6-2) steam locomotives, and the only one not scrapped.
It was kind of a hot-rod Pacific, built by Lima Locomotive Works. It had all the features of Lima “SuperPower” locomotives, including an oversize firebox and thermic syphons.
It was built in 1934, one of five. Others were built later, and they were all named in a contest.
F. Nelson Blount acquired the locomotive about 1960 for his Steamtown collection, and displayed it in various locations, finally his Steamtown in Bellows Falls, Vermont.
Blount died, and his Steamtown collection was moved to the old Delaware, Lackawanna & Western roundhouse in Scranton, PA.
Steamtown is now a location administered by the National Park Service.
3713 is owned by Steamtown, and is being rebuilt for eventual use on their steam-locomotive railroad excursions.
When finally in operation, it will replace #2317 and #3254; both Canadian locomotives that were operating the Steamtown excursions.
When 3713 is returned to service it will be a return to use of American locomotives on Steamtown excursions. #2317 is a Canadian Pacific Railroad 4-6-2 Pacific steam-engine, and #3254 is a Canadian National 2-8-2 Mikado.
I’ve ridden behind both.
The rebuild of #3713 is funded by the Lackawanna & Wyoming Valley Railway Historical Society.
#3713 was in pretty good shape — not as bad as Pennsy K4 #1361.
Both locomotives were being rebuilt at Steamtown in Scranton, and #1361 was a mess.
Whole parts of the locomotive had to be refabricated.
3713 wasn’t like that, but overhauling a steam-locomotive is a slow process.
A steam-locomotive is a pressure vessel on driving wheels.
You have to be overly careful.
Steam is generated within the boiler, and contained therein at high pressure — probably around 250 pounds per square inch in 3713.
If the boiler fails, a massive explosion occurs — steam escaping.
A failed boiler could toss the boiler far from the driving-wheels — often the length of a football field.
You have to keep water atop the top sheet of the firebox. If ya don’t, that top sheet can melt, and blow the boiler. Water cascades into the firebox and vaporizes.
Aware of the dangers inherant, various gumint authorities are involved, to avoid boiler explosions.
Boiler work has advanced far beyond what it was in steam-locomotive days; particularly inspection.
It’s now possible to determine the actual thickness of boiler-plate, instead of just banging on it with a hammer and listening to the ring.
Steamtown holds workshop tours, and I’ve seen both 3713 and 1361 being worked on.
Both are all apart, and 3713 is stripped, and boiler-plate thickness marked all over it. (So is 1361.)
Years ago, boiler-plate was riveted; now it’s welded.
A replacement boiler would be welded, but 3713 wasn’t anywhere near that bad.
And rebuilding a steam-locomotive is costly.
The funding for doing that comes slowly, often only small private donations (me, for example; $100 per year of a total cost of $500,000 or more).
A railroad could rebuild a steam-locomotive in weeks, but railfans ain’t a railroad.
3713 has been being rebuilt for years.
The last time I saw it was about five years ago, completely disassembled.
I bet if I went back today, it wouldn’t look much different.
And, of course, once a steam-locomotive is put to work, it starts tearing itself apart.
Hot exhaust-gases from the fire are routed through the boiler toward the front smokebox through flues and tubes. That tubing is installed as a rounded fit on the firebox front — once the locomotive starts slamming down the track, those fits can work and become unable to hold steam-pressure.
The running-gear also starts wearing itself apart.
Pace an operating steam-locomotive, hear all that thrashing, and ya wonder how it all stays together.
#3713 has a Geisel Ejector, one of the few installations on an American locomotive.
The spent steam exhausts out the cylinders into an “ejector” into the front smokebox, but aimed at a smokestack funnel.
The “ejector” was a limiting factor on steam-locomotive performance — it caused back-pressure in the cylinders.
The “Geisel Ejector” has multiple nozzles aimed at an oblong smokestack, and supposedly reduced back-pressure.
The outside indicator of a Geisel Ejector is the oblong smokestack, what 3713 has.
I haven’t seen “Geisel Ejectors” on anything else, just 3713. Usually the exhaust-steam was blasted through a single nozzle aimed at the smokestack funnel. The exiting steam also promoted a draft on the fire; making a steam-engine work better at speed.
Recent steam-locomotive technology has a draft-fan to promote a draft through the firebox. It’s engaged when the locomotive is stopped, or working slowly.

Monthly Calendar Report for February, 2009

(No footnotes. If anyone is reading this at all, they probably don’t need footnotes.)

1964 289 AC Cobra roadster.

The February 2009 entry of my Oxman legendary sportscar calendar is one of the greatest sportscars of all time, a 1964 289 AC Cobra.
In 1964 I was in my sophomore year of college, and the new AC Cobra was perceived as revolutionary and inspired — a melding of fabulous Detroit V8 engine technology with the lightweight British sportscar.
My memory was that unfortunately it wasn’t the fabulous Chevrolet Small-Block, but it was Ford’s interpretation thereof, the new V8 that replaced the Y-block of the 1954 model-year, first at 221 cubic-inches. Compared to the Small-Block, the Y-block was a boat-anchor.
My neighbor Bruce Stewart had one, a 1963 Fairlane two-door sedan with a 221 V8 with floorshift.
Ford also began installing its new Small-Block in its Falcon, the “Futura” model.
It was a great idea.
Extraordinary V8 performance in a small, lightweight package.
Ford went on to market its fabulous Mustang, and also enlarged its Small-Block to 289 cubic inches — later 302 cubic inches.
California racer Carroll Shelby conceived marketing the latest Detroit V8 technology in a British sportscar, and convinced tiny British sportscar manufacturer AC to give up on the heavy Bristol six-inline engine, and install Ford’s Small-Block V8 instead. (Although by then AC was gonna give up on the prewar Bristol engine anyway.)
(I think the first AC Cobras were 260 cubic-inches, but this car is 289.)
It was an inspired idea, and AC added to it by improving the styling. —An AC Bristol looks turgid by comparison.
Racers found even the 289 wasn’t that fast, so the 427 cubic-inch NASCAR engine was wrenched in.
The chassis was reengineered to be civil even with the 427.
The 427-Cobra is still an icon.
45 years have passed since the first AC Cobras, and still the 427-Cobra is perceived as the ultimate macho sportscar.
A guy nearby has one. He shows it at car-shows.
He drives in in it; an epiphany of thundering and earth-shaking racket.
The idea of wrenching a Detroit V8 into a British sportscar has appeal.
I’ve seen Austin Healeys and MGAs with Small-Block Chevy V8s.
But Old Shell’s AC-Cobra was the best-looking and best interpretation.
Plus it ain’t a cobble job.
It was an actual car.

Northbound freight-train on the Norfolk & Western Abingdon Branch near Tuckerdale, N. Carolina, October 1956. (Photo by O. Winston Link.)

I look at this O. Winston Link “Steam and Steel” calendar, and it looks like I’ll be flying every pik.
Some are classics (e.g. the Ieager Drive-in pik I flew at the top of my O. Winston Link show blog), and others are even more marginal than this one (above), which despite its marginality is still a classic.
O. Winston Link is not that great a photographer, but his mastery of his craft, and his ability to chronicle history, is beyond dispute.
Aside from the fact the engine is a wheezing teakettle, probably barely able to generate the tractive effort needed to keep the train moving.....
—1) The bicyclist, 15-year-old Joe Dollar, is riding an “English” bicycle, not an incredibly heavy balloon-tire behemoth as popular at that time.
Link couldn’t control everything. The bicycle is not the classic bloated heavyweight of that time.
I never had an “English” bicycle as a child.
“English” bicycles cost more than the average balloon-tire heavyweight; so I didn’t get one until my senior year at college with my own money.
“English” had the advantage of being lighter in weight, plus they had a three-speed Sturmey-Archer rear hub.
That Sturmey-Archer hub could gear down for hills, or up for speed.
Plus, “English” being lighter, ya weren’t dragging around all that excess avoirdupois.
You could go like the wind.
—2) Visible to the right in front of the engine (so tiny it’s probably lost in the ‘pyooter pik) is a new GMC truck (‘55 or ‘56).
The middle to late ‘50s Chevy and GMC trucks were an extensive restyle of the Advance-Design trucks that debuted in the 1947 model-year.
From ‘55 on had a wraparound windshield, and a front-end modified to swallow the new Chevy Small-Block V8 (or Pontiac V8). They also were heavily styled, and moved to four headlights.
I thought the world of the new GMC; even drew one in sixth or seventh grade — in 1956 I was in sixth grade.
(The fact I drew anything signified how much I liked it — in college I drew ‘55 Chevys galore.)
But it’s still the same old chassis underneath; ancient beam-axle design up front, and a torque-tube rear — same layout used in 1947.
The General didn’t update its trucks until the 1960 model-year.
A better truck would have been the old Advance-Design series; perhaps 1950.
As noted earlier, Link couldn’t control everything.
At least that glitzmobile is almost invisible. Seconds after the shot, that truck was waiting at that railroad-crossing, although the train woulda blocked it.
It’s also worth noting Link is set up on the highway bridge over the overgrown creekbed the railroad probably followed.
At least it’s not in the creekbed.
I rode the Arcade & Attica tourist line once, and the railroad was in the creekbed.
This Abingdon Branch looks similar — little to justify its existence.
I wonder if it still exists; still in my most recent railroad atlas (1967, surely outta date) — but appears shortened.

The “California Kid.”

Behold (in my Oxman hot-rod calendar), one of the greatest hot-rods of all time, “California Kid,” a chopped 1934 Ford three-window coupe.
It’s not the ‘32, which I prefer, but it is the three-window coupe (as opposed to five-window, which doesn’t look as good).
This car is significant because it’s a throwback, built in 1972. —A throwback to old-style 1950s hot-rod appearance, particularly the flames.
Usually I don’t like flames, but on this car they look righteous.
The car eventually starred in a TV movie, starring Martin Sheen and Nick Nolte. That was in 1974, and the film was named “The California Kid,” which is how the car got its name.
No mention is made in the calendar of what motor this has, but research indicates it’s a 302 cubic-inch Small-Block Ford; pretty stock — and good because it’s therefore drivable.
Many hot-rods are just trailer-queens; impossible motors that look very butch, but could never operate on the street.
“California Kid” could be driven around like a normal car, but it’s clearly a hot-rod.
Of interest is the front “nerf-bar” bumpers; short pieces of chromed tubing that replace the bumpers. They don’t offer much protection, but are the bumpers usually found on race-cars.
Of additional interest is the use of full stock fenders. Such a car could be driven in the rain — without throwing rooster-tails of water off the tires onto other cars.

Hawker “Hurricane.” (Photo by Philip Makanna©.)

The February 2009 entry of my Ghosts WWII warbirds calendar is a Hawker “Hurricane” Mk. XII, actually manufactured by Canadian Car and Foundry.
My friend Tim Belknap tells me this is the airplane that won the Battle of Britain, not the fabulous SuperMarine Spitfire.
The Spit came later, and didn’t agree with British standards of airworthiness and fighter-plane performance at first.
But the Spit was so sensational, the standards were rewritten.
The Spit was a fabulous fighter-plane, but not the workhorse the Hurricane was.
This Hurricane (pictured) has the fabulous Rolls-Royce Merlin engine, although an earlier 1,280 horsepower iteration.
The Spit has a 1,478 horsepower iteration, and the P51 Mustang 1,695 horsepower.
Unfortunately the Hurricane wasn’t as graceful and gorgeous as the Spit or the Mustang.
That looks like fabric covering on the fuselage behind the cockpit. That fabric meant ordinance could pass right through without exploding.
The fact the Hurricane was not attractive was irrelevant to attacking German bombers.
Hurricanes would scramble and take on the German bombers.
Apparently they were successful, although the German bombers wreaked havoc.
Successful enough the Germans had to switch to unmanned V1 and V2 rockets to bomb the English.
But of course that rocketry was secondary to Hitler’s Luftwaffe — which the Hurricanes could cripple.
Apparently it was the Hurricanes that turned the tide against the Germans attacking the British; although the Germans made the mistake of switching to bombing English cities, which gave the Brits breathing room.

The “Tuxedo” F-units. (Photo by Walt Tylicki.)

The February 2009 entry of my Norfolk Southern Employees calendar is the Tuxedo F-units, the classic railroad locomotives used on Norfolk Southern’s executive business-train.
Conrail had classic E-class passenger units it used on its executive business-train, but I think they were sold to a private individual who still operates them in excursion service, although they were repainted into the Pennsylvania Railroad’s tuscan-red scheme.
When Norfolk Southern purchased half of Conrail, it became a major player in east-coast railroading, and saw a need for an executive business-train.
An executive business-train is used to transport prospective shippers around the railroad in high style — the railroad equivalent of an executive jet.
Passenger-cars are from the classic era, when Pullman Company and the railroads provided elegant accommodations to those willing to pay.
Although in this case the railroad is trying to impress prospective customers.
Bedroom sleeping compartments are provided, along with lounges and a dining-car — the classic railroad accommodations of old.
Needed were classic locomotives to pull the train. The typical freight locomotive looked out of place.
Norfolk Southern obtained old F-units, a design that goes clear back to 1939.
The units are F9As from RailCruise America, based in St. Louis, but were originally built as F7As in 1952 for Baltimore & Ohio Railroad.
The B-units are F7s, originally Chicago Great Western, also from RailCruise America.
The locomotives were rebuilt and repainted at Norfolk Southern’s massive Juniata Shops north of Altoona, PA.
Rebuilding a diesel railroad locomotive is fairly simple, and Juniata is a heavy maintenance facility anyway.
I bet the motor was replaced, or at least overhauled.
New traction-motors mighta been needed, as well as a new generator.
New wiring and state-of-the-art electronics were probably installed — essentially a new locomotive in an old body.
#4270 looks like it also has a separate generator installed to provide head-end power; note muffler atop cab-roof.
Railfans nicknamed the new two-tone black and creme scheme pictured above the “tuxedo” scheme.
F-units hauled freight in the early years of railroad dieselization.
Most have long since been retired — I doubt Norfolk Southern has any others besides these.
A diesel railroad locomotive might last 15-20 years. It was like a bus. Beyond 20 years it wasn’t worth maintaining.
The old steam-locomotives might last 30 or more years.
Santa Fe used F-units to pull its passenger-trains. EMD even began building “FP” units, a four-foot longer F-unit that could accommodate a steam-heat boiler.
Plus an F-unit could be geared for passenger speeds; not the greyhound E-units, but fast enough.
These Tuxedo Fs might see 90 mph, but probably rarely.
I saw the Tuxedo Fs last summer.
The executive business-train is based in Altoona, PA, and it was coming west.
I was with Phil Faudi (“FAW-dee”), an Altoona based railfan tour-guide, and he was excited.
The executive business-train was out on The Hill — he got it on his rail-scanner.
The executive business-train is aimed west, so climbs The Hill to get turned around to head east — it can loop atop The Hill; and can’t get turned around anywhere but there.
So who knows: westbound or eastbound. We may see it, but maybe not.
All-of-a-sudden, there it is, westbound on Track Three through Lilly, PA — I got a picture (it’s in my Faudi blog).
So here’s Walt Tylicki, K-9 Specialist with the Norfolk Southern railroad police, coming to work at Bellevue (“BELL-view”) Yard in Ohio, and there are the Tuxedo Fs idling in the dawn.
He poses his dog “Max” in front of the Tuxedo Fs, and takes a picture.
He wasn’t intending to enter the Norfolk Southern Employee Calendar contest, but his supervisors tell him he should enter the picture.

1969 Dodge Hemi® Coronet R/T convertible.

“Hemi” (“HEM-eee”), a word that commands awe and respect in automotive circles.
My Muscle-Car calendar has a car with a Hemi engine.
Although it’s the second iteration, the so-called “Elephant Motor;” nicknamed “Hemi” because of the hemispherical combustion-chambers it featured.
It was a great idea. Turn the valves 90° relative to the crankshaft, so the intake-valves pointed toward the carburetor, and the exhaust-valves toward the exhaust headers.
Normally the cylinder valves of an overhead-valve engine all line up in a row parallel to the crankshaft.
This requires tortured routing of intake and exhaust ports in the cylinder-head, limiting flow.
By turning the valves 90°, you could straighten porting, and improve flow.
Valves were still operated by pushrods, but those pushrods operated rockers in opposite directions; one row for intakes, and one for exhausts.
The system also allowed centralized spark-plug location in the combustion chamber, which promoted even charge burning.
But all this was done at great expense.
Hemi heads required two rocker-shafts; one for intake valves, and one for exhaust.
Such a system was costly to produce, and weighed a lot.
We’re talking about a massively wide cast-iron cylinder-head castings of immense size and weight, able to support two rocker-shafts.
The Hemi V8 debuted at Chrysler in the 1951 model-year at 331 cubic inches, and lasted through the 1958 model-year at 392 cubic inches.
Chrysler decided the Hemi was too costly to produce, so started fielding large versions of its simpler “Wedge” B-motor, initially 383 cubic inches and 413.
It wasn’t a Hemi, but could be made fairly strong.
But the Hemi was a free-breather, so the Daytona-racers began agitating for Hemi heads on the Wedge motor, which is the second iteration (this car).
A third iteration is now available, cashing in on the Hemi reputation.
I suppose it’s technically a Hemi, but it ain’t the “Elephant Motor.”
The Elephant Motor was also big; 426 cubic inches.
And the car pictured has two 550 cubic-feet-per-minute four-barrel carburetors. That’s 1,100 cubic-feet-per-minute; a lotta carburetor.
My brother’s 454 cubic-inch SS Chevelle has a single 750, and that’s pretty big.
The basic principles of Hemi design are still being used to maximize engine performance, although mainly in motorcycle engines.
Cylinder valving is still turned 90° from crankshaft length, so porting can be direct.
But two valves per cylinder (the Hemi) have become four, since four flow better.
And combustion chambers have gotten much less hemispherical.
The original Hemi had an angle of 58° between valves.
Recent valve angles on motorcycle engines are much narrower — in the 30s.
And now the camshafts that operate the valves are directly over the valves; i.e. now in the cylinder-head instead of down in the engine block — which requires pushrods.
That’s Overhead-Camshaft. One for intakes and a second for exhausts is Double-Overhead-Camshafts (“DOHC”).
Auto manufacturers took advantage of ball-stud rocker technology introduced on the Small-Block Chevy in the 1955 model-year (actually a Pontiac innovation) — no rocker-shafts.
Cylinder valves could be splayed toward the carburetors and exhaust header.
Chevrolet did this on its Big-Block motor, and Ford on its “Cleveland” V8.
Which is why Bruce McLaren used the “Big-Block” in his fabulous Can-Am racecars. The “Hemi” was too heavy.

I’m not flying the February 2009 entry of my Audio-Visual Designs B&W All-Pennsy Calendar because it’s too moribund — only three F-units pulling a westbound freight approaching Rockville Bridge on the Susquehanna River, north of Harrisburg.
The train is out of Enola Yard, across from Harrisburg, toward Altoona.
It’s hardly anything — not very photogenic — just a paean to the EMD F3 unit, the diesel-locomotive that retired steam locomotion on Pennsy.

No Fireworks

No bellowing or screaming or threats of fisticuffs.
“I pay my union dues like everyone else here, so I’m gonna tell ya what I think!
You told us we had a winner last contract — that we would win an interest-arbitration. And look what happened.......
We got sold down the river!”
Another regular monthly business meeting of Local 282 of the nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union (“What’s ‘Ah-two?’”), my old union at Regional Transit Service, where I drove transit-bus 16&1/2 years, came and went.
I’m told the fireworks will be next meeting, when someone from the national office comes to tell us our local is not complying with a national bylaw change made years ago.
The bylaw states that locals are to have only one paid full-time officer, a combined Business-Agent/President.
We have two, and have since I started in 1977; a President and a Business-Agent.
Our current Business-Agent has been that for years; since well before my stroke.
The current Prez was elected President when a previous union-prez died.
The two union officials were at loggerheads at first.
The Business-Agent is an activist; the union-prez more go-with-the-flow.
Both are older than me, so if the two positions get collapsed into one, they’ll probably retire.
Or else the current Business-Agent may run for the office — he’s already defacto prez anyway.
Another guy, who I call the Catholic-Zealot, may also run for such an office.
He’s currently a Union-Representative, and acts as an attorney in disputes with Transit management.
He’s come a long way since the hoary days of my Union newsletter, when he was kind of a jerk.
I remember a proposed arbitration about the Company not following procedure concerning a bus-driver with a drug charge.
My friend got up and said the guy should repent.
“WHOA-WHOA-WHOA! Hold it, Dominick. The point of this arbitration is not sin; it’s the Company not following procedure.”
A similar arbitration was under consideration last night — not as serious as a drug charge. But the Company was not following procedure.
Here’s Dominick defending the arbitration, not out of forgiving a so-called sinner, but because the Company wasn’t following procedure.
Catholic-zealot goes into a zealous rage when the Company treats us as idiots.
Well, I like that.
We need a leader that collects his thoughts and gets royally incensed.
But to my mind, we also need a leader who’s media-savvy — plays the media like a violin.
Robert Flavin (“FLAY-vin”), the longtime head of the local Communications Workers of America union (the telephone workers), was always a good media interview about a union issue.
But Flavin died.
The good interview became Adam Urbanski (“er-BAN-skee”), the head of the local teachers’ union.
But he’s more education issues.
Our current union officials aren’t interested in media-play.
My hope is for a union official interested in media-play.
I’m told the union membership is for only one union official; yet the union’s Executive-Board is against.
Fireworks, everyone.
Grist for the mill — a story for sure.

Our dog stalks a squirrel at Baker Park in Canandaigua. (Photo by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.)

Since the union-meeting was so dead last night, I guess I hafta turn to something else: mainly the insanity of trying to fly nine dog pictures on our famblee-site; a response to the single pik I flew of our dog looking out the bedroom-window, titled “Not Enough Dogs.”
My post started with “Hold your horses, Elz.” My sister in south Floridy (“Elz”) had already commented on the single “Not Enough Dogs” pik before I got to fly the others.
I post a slew of pictures probably the same way all my siblings do — at least everyone but the all-knowing supposedly ‘pyooter-savvy Bluster-King; I’ve yet to see him post any pictures.
I post a period, edit, and then “add files.” Files uploaded, I “insert file(s) into HTML.”
Okay, I did that, like I always do, and bold the “Hold your horses, Elz.”
View post, and all it is is the jpeg picture titles in bold, and “Hold your horses, Elz.”
Okay, I surmise; something is wrong with the HTML. But it’s 6:15, and I have to begin eating supper so I can start in at 7 for this union meeting.
“Why is it everything screws up when you’re pressed for time?” Linda asks.
Delete “Hold your horses, Elz” and fly only the lead pik until I can return from the union-meeting.
Back home about 10:20 and start from scratch.
Upload pictures again, and “insert file(s) in HTML.”
View post; I guess they’re all there everyone.
As always; “why did it work this time?” Same HTML (far as I know).

For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY. While there I belonged to the local division (“Local 282”) of the nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union. Our local holds a regular business meeting the third Thursday of each month.

“What’s ‘ah-two?’” is something my mother asked seeing my ATU (Amalgamated Transit Union) button.

“Catholic-Zealot” is my friend Dominick Zarcone (“zar-CONE”) a fellow bus-driver hired shortly after me. I call him “Catholic-Zealot” because he’s a tub-thumping born-again Christian, but also Catholic (what he was raised as).

“The Company” is Regional Transit Service.

During my final year at Transit I did a voluntary union newsletter called the “282-News” that caused weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth among Transit management. It was great fun; and I did it with Microsoft Word — although it required a lot of time.

“Communications Workers of America” union in Rochester, NY.

Our current dog is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s three-plus, and is our sixth Irish-Setter.

RE: “‘Old guy’ with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.......” —My macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston, who is 13 years younger than me, calls me “the old guy” as a put-down (I also am the oldest). I also am loudly excoriated by all my siblings for preferring a professional camera (like the Nikon D100) instead of a point-and-shoot. This is because I long ago sold photos to nationally published magazines.

The “famblee-site” is our family’s web-site at MyFamily.com.

Our family’s web-site is overwhelmed with cat pictures, so I flew a bunch of dog pictures titled “Not Enough Dogs.”

“Response” is computer-response; a text and/or picture response to an original post on our family’s web-site. I can post a single picture as the original post, and add a bunch more as a response. If each picture was an original post, it’d be nine separate posts. (I’ve only put one picture on this blog.)

“Elz” is my sister Betty (Elizabeth). She’s second after me, 63 (I’m the oldest at 65). She lives in Fort Lauderdale, FL, and is married to a guy named Tom.

The “Bluster-King” is my all-knowing, blowhard brother-from-Boston, the macho ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. He claims to be an authority on computers, and that I am completely clueless compared to him.

“A period” is “.” —A handle to edit; edit to add pictures.

“Linda” is my wife of 41+ years.

Lo-grade cold

......Not the full-blown “man-cold” that completely debilitated various of the Delawareans to their leather-ensconced LL Bean sofas.
Just more a nuisance than anything, although it has put a damper on physical activity somewhat, e.g. the YMCA and walking our crazy dog.
I skipped the YMCA yesterday (Wednesday, February 18, 2009), and skipped taking the dog to Baker Park this morning.
I also canceled a Hairman appointment this afternoon, because he’s going to Belgium and I don’t want him getting this cold.
Although I still have been able to take the dog to the park other days, although a bad-weather day last week may have precipitated this cold. It was raining and blowing.
And it hasn’t alterated my appetite any.
I still eat pretty much what I ate before, although it isn’t the Pig-Out diet recommended by various of my siblings.
I have had to switch to Jell-O for dessert.
An apple (Mac, not PC) or a grapefruit are a bit much.
Although I have been able to eat oranges.
No Mountain-Dew® or Cheetos though.
Didn’t like either even before the cold.
The national TV news has been reporting the epidemic of rotting teeth in Appalachia among small children.
....That hardly any adults have any teeth.
Nine-times-outta-ten the culprit is Mountain-Dew; that parents are even putting it in sippy-cups for tiny babies.
Some time ago I mentioned to my Physical-Therapist I had a brother addicted to Mountain-Dew.
“UGH!” she said. “That is the worst stuff in the world. All acid and caffeine and sugar. They gotta ship that stuff as toxic material.”
A small Appalachian boy is seated in a dental-exam chair.
He opens his mouth, and blackened, rotting teeth are revealed.
This one has to be pulled, and that one, and almost all the others.
Ten years old, and false teeth.
“I bet you been drinkin’ Mountain-Dew,” the Dentist says.
“Yessir,” the little boy sheepishly admits.
“The Dentist is probably gonna tell you Mountain-Dew is not your friend,” the tech says.

RE: “Not the full-blown ‘man-cold’ that completely debilitated various of the Delawareans to their leather-ensconced LL Bean sofas......” —The Delawareans are all those that live in northern Delaware, namely my younger brother Bill, his wife Sue, and their son Tom. (They all live together.) About two months ago Bill and Tom got colds — referred to as “man-colds” — that completely debilitated them, reducing them to quivering shells on their recreation-room sofas. Their sofas are from LL Bean, and are leather-wrapped.

I work out at the Canandaigua YMCA; Baker Park is also in Canandaigua, and we can let our dog run loose in there, since it’s fenced.

Our current “crazy dog” is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s three-plus, and is our sixth Irish-Setter.

“Hairman” is my hair-dresser. I’ve gone to him at least 16-17 years. (My macho, loudmouthed brother-from-Boston, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, excoriates my hair. I shouldn’t be patronizing Hairman; like my brother I should be having my hair trimmed by HairCrafters at $5 a pop, or use my John Deere riding-mower.) —He’s expatriot Belgian.

RE: “Pig-Out diet.....” —My loudmouthed brother-from-Boston, the macho ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say, eats a menu of salt and fat I call the “Pig-Out” diet. He noisily insists I should eat the same. (A “Pig-Out” diet would consider Mountain-Dew and Cheetos to be staples.)

RE: “Mac, not PC.....” —All my siblings use Windows PCs, but I use an Apple MacIntosh, so am therefore reprehensible and stupid.

RE: “My Physical-Therapist....” —A few years ago I was prescribed a Physical-Therapist, mainly to get back in shape.

“Brother addicted to Mountain-Dew” is my brother-in-Boston.

The all-important town meeting we didn’t attend

Call Ty Pennington. (Photo by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.)

Our town of abode, West Bloomfield, NY, has had to close its Town Hall.
Town Hall is an old church-building built in 1825.
Floor beams had dry rot, so there was fear the building might collapse.
And so a long-running issue comes to a boil; the issue of what to do about Town Hall, which was an issue even before it closed.
I remember going up there once to pay our water-bill or something, and they had all the doors and windows of the Town Clerk’s office open.
Fans were on; something about mold in the basement.
Proposed was building a new Town Hall; at issue because it could be an overpriced Taj Mahal that would raise taxes.
Last Fall the Town proposed buying land from an owner who had already donated land for a park.
The land was adjacent to the already donated parkland.
Townspeople managed to get the proposed land-purchase on the ballot as a proposal.
It got voted down. It was a sweetheart deal; land way overvalued.
The Town Supervisor, who will probably not be reelected, floated the idea of moving all town functions to the proposed land purchase, including the Volunteer Fire Department.
Causing weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
He even suggested unifying the Ionia Volunteer Fire Department with the West Bloomfield Fire Department, opening a hornets’ nest.
Ionia is a small village within the Town of West Bloomfield.
A hissy-fit ensued. Strident letters got published in the town newsletter, saying, in effect, the Town Supervisor was off his rocker.
So now that the Town Hall is closed, the issue is brought to a head.
Town offices had to be moved to the Fire Department prompting $8,000 in hookup fees; phone, Internet, etc.
The adjacent town of East Bloomfield offered to let West Bloomfield’s Town Court hold sessions therein, but the Town Justice has to render decisions in the town he was elected in.
Set up Town Justice in Congregational Church across the street. He rates a courtroom with 18-foot measurements.
The mighty Mezz weighed in, suggesting in an editorial the towns of East and West Bloomfield merge; that by so doing they could save megabucks.
It’s a litany that newspaper has been on for some time: too many gumint entities, so merge some of those entities.
Various Grannies in West Bloomfield went ballistic. I get to hear all about it, since my wife works part-time at the West Bloomfield Post-Office, a local gathering place.
The Messenger trotted out an example: the rejoining of Holcomb with Bloomfield village in 1990.
Holcomb had seceded from Bloomfield village long ago, primarily because a railroad had run through it.
The railroad (“the Peanut”) was stubbed in Holcomb long ago, and abandoned completely in the late ‘70s.
So Holcomb rejoined Bloomfield village — they shared an adjacent border anyway.
That adjacent border was trotted out by the Messenger as an example of why East and West Bloomfield should be merged.
“Well that’s just silly!” the Grannies bellowed. “East and West Bloomfield are hardly Holcomb and Bloomfield village.” (No matter they share a common border.)
So now the Town was gonna hold a meeting about what to do about Town Hall.
The Grannies were all lining up to attend, so should we attend? After all, this could raise our taxes.
I recall that long ago I attended a political meeting in Rochester of Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, while a bus-driver at Regional Transit Service.
Great idea, I was told. Get involved in politics.
I showed up in full regalia, frumpy uniform with all my glittering silverware; watch, punch, chains; the whole stinkin’ kabosh.
Stand on sidelines. “If you wanna speak, ya gotta sign up. For that ya get three minutes of podium time.
Our speaking allotment is already filled, so you’re too late.”
Utter boredom. One-by-one the Grannies attacked the podium, bellowing about Social Security, veteran benefits, protecting the unborn, supporting the handicapped. Three minutes each, then DING!
I forget what the meeting was supposed to be about, but the Grannies weren’t treating it.
Meanwhile, poor Moynihan had to sit quietly with his hands folded, enduring the Grannies. Is it any wonder they do junkets?
Is this what political service means; enduring mountains of blathering?
Sure, attend this here Town Meeting; and probably walk out after enduring a mountain of blathering, much like I did at that Moynihan meeting long ago.
“All it is is a story,” I said.
“But I’m sure it will be a good one,” Linda said. “Lotsa bellowing and screaming by the assembled crotchety Grannies.”
“I don’t wanna abandon the dog in the house just to go hear ceaseless blathering,” I said. “Anyway, there’s a story in not attending the meeting.”
If we’d had any input at all, it was to suggest the town call Ty Pennington, nuke the old Town Hall with flaming Monster-Trucks, and then build a new Town Hall complete with fancy gizmos provided by that decorator-guy: Michael Moloney.
“Can’t do that,” our neighbor Billy said. “Can’t rebuild on the old Town Hall site, because they can’t meet the new septic code.” (Billy is the onliest son of our recently deceased 94 year old nosy neighbor. He lives in their old house across-the-road.)
“They also can’t use the lot for sale down 5&20,” some Granny told my wife at the Post-Office. “Won’t perc.”
So the town is considering a prefabbed building built by prison inmates for $325,000.
“What about the Post-Office?” my wife asks. “That Post-Office will get closed eventually, and it when it does, the building remains.”
“How ya gonna hold meetings in that tiny building?” Billy asks.
“So how ya gonna hold meetings in a prefab building?” I ask.
“Tell me which meeting you’re going to,” I told Billy; “so I can avoid that meeting.” (They were gonna hold two.)
Didn’t attend the meeting at all, and no audible fireworks, or earth-tremors under our feet. But the Fire Hall is far down the road.

“Ty Pennington” of ABC’s Extreme Home Makeover.

RE: “‘Old guy’ with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.......” —My macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston, who is 13 years younger than me, calls me “the old guy” as a put-down (I also am the oldest). I also am loudly excoriated by all my siblings for preferring a professional camera (like the Nikon D100) instead of a point-and-shoot. This is because I long ago sold photos to nationally published magazines. (I always carry that camera with me in case I come up on an accident I could photograph for the newspaper I once worked at.)

“East and West Bloomfield” are two adjacent rural towns in western NY. We live in West Bloomfield. The “village of Bloomfield” is within the town of East Bloomfield — “Holcomb” merged back into it.

RE: “Congregational Church across the street.......” —There is a Congregational Church across the street from the Town Hall. The Town Court was set up in a new addition.

The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over three years ago. Best job I ever had.

“Grannies” are any female over 50.

My wife of 41+ years is “Linda.” Like me she’s retired, but she works part-time at the West Bloomfield post-office.

“The Peanut” is the original independently-built Canandaigua & Niagara Falls Railroad, eventually merged into New York Central Railroad. It was called a “peanut” by a New York Central executive because it was so tiny compared to NYC’s mainline. It is now entirely abandoned, although a short stub out of Canandaigua to Holcomb remained in service until the ‘70s.

For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service, the transit-bus operator in Rochester, NY.

Our current dog is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s three-plus, and is our sixth Irish-Setter. She doesn’t like being left alone in the house.

“Our recently deceased 94 year old nosy neighbor” was Vern Habecker (“HAH-bek-rrrr”), who was always watching us. —I had a good time with Vern; always giving him the business.

“5&20” is the main east-west road through our area; State Route 5 and U.S. Route 20, both on the same road. 5&20 is just south of where we live.

RE: “Won’t perc.......” —Equals “won’t percolate;” that is, drain a septic-field.

Ding-a-ling

Usual mind-bending surfeit of errands today (Tuesday, February 17, 2009).
We always have to attach a surfeit of errands to any trip anywhere, e.g. the park with the dog, or the YMCA.
I have other trips scheduled; and errands to attach.
Yesterday, we took dog to Baker Park in Canandaigua so she could gambol loose and hunt squirrels.
Four circuits — she’d probably keep hunting all day.
Afterwards, off to Jo-Ann Fabric to find elastic for stirrups for my new long underwear.
My long underwear are Duofold®, and don’t come with stirrups. Linda has to sew in stirrups to keep the long underwear from riding up.
Then to mighty Weggers for the weekly grocery-shopping. Jo-Ann and Weggers adds about an hour. —Home at 3 p.m.
Back to Baker Park again today; left about 12:30 (Linda worked at the Post Office this morning).
Four more circuits, then a long trip to Honeoye Falls to -a) get rubber plugs far the basement faucet-caps (garage-pipes drained); and -b) hit the vet to get some more anti-worm medicine.
That’s about 20 miles — 20 minutes.
Leaving the hardware-store I realize I’m in Honeoye Falls, and don’t have the cash to buy an HO model GG1 at a model-train show my friend Art Dana and I will attend this weekend.
Honeoye Falls is the location of a Canandaigua National Bank branch, and I’m gonna have to hit their ATM sooner-or-later.
So I might as well do it now. —Add 10 minutes.
We pull up to the ATM machine, and roll down the window. I have my wallet out already, to get out my ATM card.
Suddenly “Ding-a-ling.” My cellphone is firing off in my jacket pocket. “Now what? For crying out loud!”
I can’t just drop everything and answer the phone, but it may be the Bluster-Boy with one of his boring tirades about not having my phone on. (It did ring, Boobie.)
“Hell-ooooo,” SCRATCH-CLICK; “Hell-ooooo,” SCRATCH-CLICK; “Hell-ooooo,” SCRATCH-CLICK; “Hell-ooooo,” SCRATCH-CLICK. “Wassa matter? How come yah never have your phone on, Dewd?”
It was Victor Power Equipment; my mower-deck is in and can be picked up any time — another errand.
Linda answered the phone; it was she that parried Victor Power Equipment. I’m in the middle of trying to finesse a new ATM machine. —What am I supposed to do? Pull out and come back later? Granny the Dubya-supporter is already blowing her horn behind me, because I took 15 seconds using the ATM.
Memories of the time I was in the Porta-John at Victor Christmas Tree Farm, and my cellphone fired off.
Sure is rewarding to be contactable at any time in any location.
Home at 3:45.

Our current dog is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s three-plus, and is our sixth Irish-Setter. We let her run loose in “Baker Park in Canandaigua;” which is fenced.

I work out in the Canandaigua YMCA exercise gym.

“Linda” is my wife of 41+ years. She works part-time at the West Bloomfield post-office.

“Mighty Weggers” is Wegmans, a large supermarket-chain based in Rochester we often buy groceries at. They have a store in Canandaigua.

The “garage-pipes (water circuits to garage) were drained” so they wouldn’t freeze. There are pipe-drains on the faucets in our basement. They are sealed by rubber plugs, which I needed.

The Pennsylvania Railroad’s GG1 electric locomotive is the greatest railroad locomotive of all time. An ode to the GG1 is in this blog. Also a correction.

“Art Dana” and I are both retired bus-drivers from Regional Transit Service in Rochester, NY; the transit-bus operator where I drove transit-bus for 16&1/2 years (1977-1993). He lives nearby, and has tastes similar to me. I take him places because he has Parkinson’s Disease.

“Honeoye Falls” is the town nearest to where we live; about five miles away. (We live in rural West Bloomfield in western NY.)

The “Bluster-Boy” (“Boobie”) is my all-knowing, blowhard brother-from-Boston, the macho ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. He calls me “Dewd” as a put-down, and spells “you” “yah.” He claims I never have my cellphone on, because compared to him I am technically challenged. (It’s usually on, but may not be answerable — for which it has voicemail. If it’s off, it goes directly to voicemail without ringing. He can’t seem to distinguish that; only that I didn’t answer it.) —He’s always saying “Hell-ooooo” at me, like a broken record.

RE: “My mower-deck is in.....” —The mower-deck on our small Honda lawnmower rusted through, so I ordered another mower-deck.

RE: “Granny the Dubya-supporter......” —“Granny” is anyone female over 50 or so. “Dubya” is George W. Bush, our previous president; proclaimed by my siblings as “the greatest president of all time.” Dubya-supporters can be very pushy.

RE: “Porta-John at Victor Christmas Tree Farm.....” —Before Christmas last year I attempted to purchase a live Christmas tree, which Victor Christmas Tree Farm grows, but they had only cut trees; nothing live. Their rest-room was a Porta-John. (My brother-in-Boston claims to be a Porta-John authority.)

From dust, to dust

(Photo by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.)

The final vestige of my long-gone parents is removed.
We had to give up because the bottom had rusted out.
89 bazilyun gaily-colored sugar dots from the chocolate cake Carol bought from mighty Wal*Mart are still on our garage floor.
Actually, this is the final of two metal trashcans from my parents. We gave up on the first a few months ago.
Both trashcans were spray-painted “2401” in yellow. My parents lived at 2401 Allendale Road, but we live at 2403 State Route 65.
I was loudly excoriated for not getting 2401 as my house-number.
I probably could have, but I didn’t care that much.
Our property is in a progression along State Route 65, with 2395 next door, and 2407 far up the road.
Two other homes have been built between ours and 2407. They are numbered 2415 and 2435.
Our recently deceased 94 year old nosy neighbor across the road was 2412.
2395 was built at the same time as our house (1989).
Pizza delivery guys have stopped at our house innumerable times trying to find 2407.
So now the crumpled trashcan gets consigned to the mighty Flint landfill, to rest with the many decaying rodent carcasses that were delivered in it, and the cartons of frozen dog-poop.
From dust, to dust.

RE: “‘Old guy’ with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.......” —My macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston, who is 13 years younger than me, calls me “the old guy” as a put-down (I also am the oldest). I also am loudly excoriated by all my siblings for preferring a professional camera (like the Nikon D100) instead of a point-and-shoot. This is because I long ago sold photos to nationally published magazines.

“Carol” is the first wife of my wife’s brother, who he divorced. She lives nearby in Rochester in the old suburban house of her deceased parents, along with her only daughter and her husband and child; “Grandmother.” —Carol never remarried, and maintains a relationship with my wife’s 93-year-old mother. (My wife of 41+ years is “Linda.”) Carol is the only wife of my wife’s brother approved by her mother. “Jerry” has been married four times.

“2401 Allendale Road” is in Oak Lane Manor, a suburb of Wilmington in northern Delaware, where I lived as a teenager. We live at “2403 State Route 65” in the town of West Bloomfield, a rural town in western New York. —Route 65 is the main north-south road.

RE: “I was loudly excoriated for not getting 2401 as my house-number........” —By my all-knowing, blowhard brother-from-Boston, the macho ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say.

“Our recently deceased 94 year old nosy neighbor across the road” was Vern Habecker (“HAH-bek-rrrr”), who was always watching us. —I had a good time with Vern; always giving him the business.

“Flint landfill” is where our trash gets dumped, in the rural town of “Flint.”

“Decaying rodent carcasses” were critters caught by our dogs.

Mysteries.......

....very similar to mysteries that occurred with Linda’s brother’s laptop (a PC) in De Land, or mysteries that occasionally occur on Linda’s laptop (also a PC).

My rig has essentially two printer-drivers: —1) the old Epson print-driver that came with the printer, and I installed long ago on my previous machine (9.2 apps); and —2) the generic print-driver that came with OS-X.
OS-X incorporates a slew of print-drivers, so you don’t have to install a print-driver.
OS-X determines what the printer is, then selects the appropriate driver.
Only problem is the generic driver is too basic. It doesn’t print Quark color, and always prints “speed.”
It’ll print color with Photoshop Elements, but it’s not “quality.”
It’s “speed;” a print has stripes.
It’s a photo-quality printer, but the only way to get photo quality is to open photos in my old Photoshop 5.5 and use the old Epson print-driver. (With that I can select “quality.”)
I was using my old Quark 4.1 last night, a classic app. It’s overkill for what I’m doing, which is why I’ve never upgraded to an OS-X compliant Quark (like 6.0 or 8.0).
So I select the old Epson print-driver, and “DING” — printer not responding.
Okay, start over. Go to print my Quark document, and “DING” — printer still not responding.
Okay, I printed an AppleWorks-5 document the other morning, so I try to print that.
Still the old Epson printer-driver, and “printer not responding.”
Okay, kill everything, and reboot.
Still the old printer-driver.
Okay, move on to other stuff.
I have to set up online bill-pays at Canandaigua National Bank.
Browser opens about the size of a postage-stamp; WHAT’S GOING ON?
“Sometimes my laptop does that,” Linda says. “Mysteries wrapped in conundrums.”
FireFox (“Fox-Fire”) always saved my previous tabs, but not this time.
I have to reconstruct MyFamblee.com, Facebook, and my blog tabs.
Okay, I tried a new angle yesterday, kill Belkin® SurgeMaster™ instead of just rig and monitor.
That shouldn’t make any difference, but never again.
Bill-pays completed, and Quicken® updated, I fire up my Quark again, and this time I print using the generic print-driver.
Usually do.
I only switch to the old Epson driver if I want Quark to print color, like Christmas-card auto-signs.

“Linda” is my wife of 41+ years. We recently visited her mother in De Land, FLA (see post below), and her older brother Jerry also appeared.

“OS-X” is Apple Computer’s current computer operating system. My computer is an Apple Macintosh. (All my siblings use Windows PCs, so am therefore reprehensible and stupid.)

“Quark” is the standard computer paginating word-processing software used by large graphics houses, like newspapers. (I once worked at the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over three years ago. Best job I ever had. —I got proficient in Quark, and also had it on my home personal computer.)

“Photoshop Elements” is a reduced version of Adobe Photoshop®, sufficient for what I do. (I also have an older full version of Photoshop, 5.5.)

RE: “A classic app......” —Is a pre-OS-X version of computer software; actually OS 9.2 (or earlier). The first versions of OS-X had a “classic-mode” resident — actually 9.2 — to run non OS-X compliant computer software applications. I have quite a few, including AppleWorks-5, Quark, Word and Excel 98, and Photoshop 5.5. —The most recent version of OS-X (“Leopard;” 10.5) doesn’t have “classic-mode.” I run 10.4: “Tiger.”

“Fox-Fire” is the computer Internet browser “FireFox.” —My siblings all mispronounce it as a put-down; they all use Microsoft Internet-Explorer, and claim FireFox is just a Tinker Toy.

“MyFamblee.com” is MyFamily.com, the Internet location of our family’s web-site.

“Belkin® SurgeMaster™” is actually my computer surge protection, actually a monitor platform with surge protection elements inside. —It has a separate kill-switch that kills everything.

RE: “Bill-pays completed......” —I do online bill-pay.

“Quicken®” is a financial management computer software application. I have all our bank-accounts in it.