Lately I've read some Michener, Robert Heinlein, and Kurt Vonnegut. Heinlein's book was amazingly prohetic in ways, considering when it was written. I could tell the used book store lady is no fan. He was probably a bit libertarian leaning. She was obviously approving when I purchased some Vonnegut works.
After reading Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle and most of Deadeye Dick, I think I got the flavor of why the lady was a fan. He seems to be just on the edge of the genre of writers which is cynical and slightly arrogant, but he tends to pull it back some where others whose names escape me go over the edge. I've decided I am not much of an admirer of the hipster types who mock sincerity and the heroic side of humanity. The critics often gush over these people but I think it is like the ones who gush over bad art because they are afraid not to.
Vonnegut is definitely way beyond the wallowers in the underbelly of society who love to glorify self destruction in smugly superior tripe. His work is amazingly readable and cuts through several layers of possible meaning. I'll be done with Deadeye Dick and onto something else by the time this is published.
I forgot why Kurt was recommended to me, but it was worth checking out. I'm not sure it leaves me all that uplifted, but the style is noteworthy and hopefully some of it will rub off one day. Especially his treatment of dialogue.
It is interesting to see what the favorable reviews pasted on the back cover say about various books. In Vonnegut's case, I wonder if some of them didn't just jump on the bandwagon without reading the book. It deserved praise, but you can snese when they are trying to outdo one another in how they pour the superlatives into their reviews. It almost seemed that they were kissing up and trying to glean some hipster creds in the process. If I were him, I'd have been pleased and nauseated at the same time. I wonder if it is a case in which different people get different meaning out of the same thing.
I'm glad he stops short of being a prose version of a beat poet. He treads the edge, but not so close that I walk away. It is worth exploring great American writers. This country has produced some interesting and wild literature. Often the ones that get the most raves from the critics are not my favorites. In Kurt's case, I'd love to go against them because I think they were fulfilling an image at the time, but I can't.
I'm fairly certain that you can't teach a person to be an artist when it comes to writing. Some of the skill can be taught, but the rest must just be an element of the author's make up. Probably not even a genetically transferred trait. It is a weird thing. That's where Kurt gets me; it is not strained or forced or akward, Even the parts which might normally be boring are easily followed word for word, except for the insertion of recipes here and there in Deadeye Dick. I don't read those closely.
Michener's subject matter and research make his stuff interesting, most of the time, but it is sometimes a little boring unless I am really interested in the details of whatever he is belaboring. And when he throws in his political parts, he can leave me a bit cold. John Irving sometimes does that too; throw in heavy handed politics in a story where it seems out of place. I understand the temptation. Too bad they are both on another wave length from me. Maybe I wouldn't mind if we were in accord.
That's probably why I like Heinlein. He seems less inclined to see official authority as the end all. Or, interpreted another way, maybe we do see official authority, unchecked, as the end all; as in end of all
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Rates
Another pre-written, post-dated entry. How can you pre write something? There are a bunch of those terms in the lexicon. Pre-audit, etc.
Someone on the radio news was discussing tax cuts, or more correctly, the repeal of tax cuts. I was thinking that the term was a bit misleading. What they are saying is that they either think the current rate is fine or that it should be a higher rate. There is no cutting actually involved. Then, of course, it goes into who gets to pay a higher than present rate and who doesn't.
People tend to not know what that really means. So, often they turn to the easy thing which is to resent those who have a good bit of wealth left over. I'll leave them to it.
In related matters, when we hear of debt reduction and such, what is quite often the reality is that the rate of increase has slowed. It is like acceleration in the realm of Newtonian physics---rate of change of velocity. So if we acquire additional debt at the rate of x billion per month, and then manage to acquire it at the rate of x-.1 billion one month, the would be kings will proclaim debt reduction. Not true. We added debt, but not quite as fast as last month.
Maybe that's why Newton and co. developed calculus--to adequately describe rates of change; usually relatively speaking.
There are many times when statistics are quoted, and figures are bounced about, and people discuss things as if they follow a linear path when, in fact, they follow a curve with an increasing or decreasing slope. Rates.
Of course, if we could reduce the increase of debt by 1% every month, then in 100 months, we'd not be adding any new debt. Of course the accumulated debt might be bigger than the galaxy, but if we then began to accelerate the rate of change in the other direction, we'd be actually reducing it every month. A pipe dream, surely, but that is how it works.
So, any politician discussing the debt under current conditions is only telling the truth if he or she deals in rates of increase. They won't very often because it doesn't sound good, and because people don't really get the whole concept of acceleration vs velocity. Lies are often all that maintains spirits, and always what buys the votes of the greedy, the gullible, the lazy guilt ridden, the angry, and the gimme dolla guys.
Rates of increase and decrease cover all sorts of things in life. Then there are little snafus that come into play which involve rotational dynamics and more. Still, there is usually some sort of rate involved. Static is not the way the universe appears to roll. But the totality of the thing may be so different from what we know that it puts all this on its ear. It is pretty cool that here we are, yet existence and life and beginning and end are still beyond our grasp. And we're smart. We can fly and make artificial joints and make air conditioners. Bears can't do that.
Someone on the radio news was discussing tax cuts, or more correctly, the repeal of tax cuts. I was thinking that the term was a bit misleading. What they are saying is that they either think the current rate is fine or that it should be a higher rate. There is no cutting actually involved. Then, of course, it goes into who gets to pay a higher than present rate and who doesn't.
People tend to not know what that really means. So, often they turn to the easy thing which is to resent those who have a good bit of wealth left over. I'll leave them to it.
In related matters, when we hear of debt reduction and such, what is quite often the reality is that the rate of increase has slowed. It is like acceleration in the realm of Newtonian physics---rate of change of velocity. So if we acquire additional debt at the rate of x billion per month, and then manage to acquire it at the rate of x-.1 billion one month, the would be kings will proclaim debt reduction. Not true. We added debt, but not quite as fast as last month.
Maybe that's why Newton and co. developed calculus--to adequately describe rates of change; usually relatively speaking.
There are many times when statistics are quoted, and figures are bounced about, and people discuss things as if they follow a linear path when, in fact, they follow a curve with an increasing or decreasing slope. Rates.
Of course, if we could reduce the increase of debt by 1% every month, then in 100 months, we'd not be adding any new debt. Of course the accumulated debt might be bigger than the galaxy, but if we then began to accelerate the rate of change in the other direction, we'd be actually reducing it every month. A pipe dream, surely, but that is how it works.
So, any politician discussing the debt under current conditions is only telling the truth if he or she deals in rates of increase. They won't very often because it doesn't sound good, and because people don't really get the whole concept of acceleration vs velocity. Lies are often all that maintains spirits, and always what buys the votes of the greedy, the gullible, the lazy guilt ridden, the angry, and the gimme dolla guys.
Rates of increase and decrease cover all sorts of things in life. Then there are little snafus that come into play which involve rotational dynamics and more. Still, there is usually some sort of rate involved. Static is not the way the universe appears to roll. But the totality of the thing may be so different from what we know that it puts all this on its ear. It is pretty cool that here we are, yet existence and life and beginning and end are still beyond our grasp. And we're smart. We can fly and make artificial joints and make air conditioners. Bears can't do that.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Fits of Melancholy
I'm still writing and post dating the publish option so it will show up later. I still haven't left home for the road trip. Sometime tomorrow I expect to be out of here. I have to be far away, up the state to pick up the crate for my nephew. Printing plate machine.
If I don't get out, I'll be compelled to write for maybe 24 hours straight. It is m best defense against what idle isolation can do to me. Or even not so idle isolation.
Lately, I've been a little more social in some ways, so these few days of alone time began to show hints of old habits, and morbid thinking.
The people who have been the most hateful toward me in the last few years seem to have been irked mostly because of their unreasonably high opinions which flipped into unreasonably low opinions. The common thread is that they seemed upset because they assumed I had a high opinion of myself, which they had finally concluded was unfounded, then upon my assertion that I was pretty certain of both my worthlessness, and my right to be worthless, their ire flamed up even more intensely.
The other common thread is that the riffs were about me when I did not even want any of the interaction with these people to be about me. They moved the discourse in that direction. Other than being pretty sure I harbor fewer ill feelings and wishes toward others than most people do, I have little true confidence in my assessments of my own worth or lack of it.
For the most part, I have minimal trust in affection; whether it is felt by me or toward me. This is a curse which I may never succeed in breaking. I try from time to time. I also find that the sort of people who fuel that kind of confusion have been drawn into my life at intervals. It rings of the childhood frustration of being punished, beaten, or oppressed "because we love you". Often in response to situations in which I was merely an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time, or in no way connected.
The sad thing is when confusion of this nature leaves those who come in peaceful affection baffled, hurt and feeling rejected. By "peaceful affection", I mean they seem to enjoy liking me for what they think I am, and don't make big efforts to remake me in their image.
I have concluded I'm pretty screwed up, but have managed to find ways to compensate, and to minimize the troubles I cause. I'd be so much better off if I'd stayed married at a young age. It may not have lasted, but I think it may have helped things. Then again, maybe not. It is just that life is far better with a woman around who is on your side, and who is not overtly insane. believe it or not, that combo is less common than one might think. At least in my case. But I have faith that one day I won't run the potential mate off for no good reason. Who knows? I have to ignore the ticking clock. I'm here now, regardless of how many days prior to this I was here.
So, either I write or I get cracking on all the chores which must be done so I can be on the lovely open road.
I should emphasize that the above mentioned conflicts are very few and far between. It gives me pause, though, because I thought I'd mastered the defect that has brought such strife into my life. It has happened less and less often as the years pass, and I believe that is because I've learned better how to dodge, avoid, and escape such things.
Even so, the couple of situations I do recall from the last five years do cause me some distress. And that in itself is probably an error on my part. Once you see how a pattern works, and you aren't going to change the other person's philosophy or mode of behavior under a certain set of circumstances, it becomes clear that the only way to avoid the unpleasant game is to not participate. Just don't be there.
I don't harangue others about how they battle their personal demons, and I think I am fairly good at not crossing boundaries uninvited. Some people do not get that distinction; when it is polite to knock, and when it is OK to enter.
Maybe I'm not really useless and a waste. I'm not with the IRS, and I'm not the current president of Mexico, or governor of California. Life, time, and so much else are purely relative. Hmmm, how much else is there really?
If I don't get out, I'll be compelled to write for maybe 24 hours straight. It is m best defense against what idle isolation can do to me. Or even not so idle isolation.
Lately, I've been a little more social in some ways, so these few days of alone time began to show hints of old habits, and morbid thinking.
The people who have been the most hateful toward me in the last few years seem to have been irked mostly because of their unreasonably high opinions which flipped into unreasonably low opinions. The common thread is that they seemed upset because they assumed I had a high opinion of myself, which they had finally concluded was unfounded, then upon my assertion that I was pretty certain of both my worthlessness, and my right to be worthless, their ire flamed up even more intensely.
The other common thread is that the riffs were about me when I did not even want any of the interaction with these people to be about me. They moved the discourse in that direction. Other than being pretty sure I harbor fewer ill feelings and wishes toward others than most people do, I have little true confidence in my assessments of my own worth or lack of it.
For the most part, I have minimal trust in affection; whether it is felt by me or toward me. This is a curse which I may never succeed in breaking. I try from time to time. I also find that the sort of people who fuel that kind of confusion have been drawn into my life at intervals. It rings of the childhood frustration of being punished, beaten, or oppressed "because we love you". Often in response to situations in which I was merely an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time, or in no way connected.
The sad thing is when confusion of this nature leaves those who come in peaceful affection baffled, hurt and feeling rejected. By "peaceful affection", I mean they seem to enjoy liking me for what they think I am, and don't make big efforts to remake me in their image.
I have concluded I'm pretty screwed up, but have managed to find ways to compensate, and to minimize the troubles I cause. I'd be so much better off if I'd stayed married at a young age. It may not have lasted, but I think it may have helped things. Then again, maybe not. It is just that life is far better with a woman around who is on your side, and who is not overtly insane. believe it or not, that combo is less common than one might think. At least in my case. But I have faith that one day I won't run the potential mate off for no good reason. Who knows? I have to ignore the ticking clock. I'm here now, regardless of how many days prior to this I was here.
So, either I write or I get cracking on all the chores which must be done so I can be on the lovely open road.
I should emphasize that the above mentioned conflicts are very few and far between. It gives me pause, though, because I thought I'd mastered the defect that has brought such strife into my life. It has happened less and less often as the years pass, and I believe that is because I've learned better how to dodge, avoid, and escape such things.
Even so, the couple of situations I do recall from the last five years do cause me some distress. And that in itself is probably an error on my part. Once you see how a pattern works, and you aren't going to change the other person's philosophy or mode of behavior under a certain set of circumstances, it becomes clear that the only way to avoid the unpleasant game is to not participate. Just don't be there.
I don't harangue others about how they battle their personal demons, and I think I am fairly good at not crossing boundaries uninvited. Some people do not get that distinction; when it is polite to knock, and when it is OK to enter.
Maybe I'm not really useless and a waste. I'm not with the IRS, and I'm not the current president of Mexico, or governor of California. Life, time, and so much else are purely relative. Hmmm, how much else is there really?
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Living The O Doctrine
What we can usually get from US presidents is a new twist on language and philosophy.
Depends on what is is
Strategery
And now, "the buck stops there." (yes, it is a twist on the Truman quote, adding a t to one word. That makes all the difference)
Words to live by. It's kind of like the old, "I'm rubber, you're glue, anything you say bounces off of me and sticks to you". Except it's shorter. Buck stops there.
In a world of bolsheviks, stalinists, and oppressive hall monitor syndrome, one must keep up with the lingo. Red doesn't necessarily mean red, go may mean stop. It is tricky business.
Many people have forgotten that freedom was more fun than a soviet or Cuban style state. Probably more dangerous too. Certainly less litigious than modern America.
Depends on what is is
Strategery
And now, "the buck stops there." (yes, it is a twist on the Truman quote, adding a t to one word. That makes all the difference)
Words to live by. It's kind of like the old, "I'm rubber, you're glue, anything you say bounces off of me and sticks to you". Except it's shorter. Buck stops there.
In a world of bolsheviks, stalinists, and oppressive hall monitor syndrome, one must keep up with the lingo. Red doesn't necessarily mean red, go may mean stop. It is tricky business.
Many people have forgotten that freedom was more fun than a soviet or Cuban style state. Probably more dangerous too. Certainly less litigious than modern America.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Good Things People Do
(pics were sent to me from facebook. someone put them up and someone else shared or however FB works. from a local party on someone's back deck)The Olympics hooplah caused me to think. Dangerous, I know.
At one time, the first thoughts of the games would be who might win what. Now the first thought is, "I hope some terrorist outfit doesn't make an appearance and create havoc.".
I have a feeling that I'm not the only one who kind of holds his breath wishing the opening and closing part would be over with. Since I don't have TV coverage, I am not as inundated with it as most.
But I was thinking how hard we try to keep going in spite of all the madness. The solution has been to subject everyone to search and more. No comment on that, or on what has been done that feeds this stuff. The point is that, one way or another riffraff of the world have managed to make fun a lot more work. At least the large scale event fun.
Then I remembered how cool it was to be at that gathering on a guy's back patio, overlooking a little canyon in Spring Valley. Lots of people, and people playing live music and having a great time. This sort of thing seems to be more common here than most other places I've lived. Either that or I was not paying attention.
I was able to play with my group from up here on Ballistic Mountain, and a group of older, very seasoned, very professional country players. Everyone called them the cowboy band. Their guitar player, Les, sat in with us--CopperCreek aka Ballistic Mountain friends.
There were some very good players there. Very good. I made a few new friends and think I may have more playing opportunities as a result of my showing there. I think being a sort of blues crossover guy helps. Plenty of better blues harps out there, and better all around. Just not many of the crossover people around here. That allows me to be of value.So, we can still voluntarily gather and associate with our choice of people in situations like that party. A bit of freedom to be had.
They had a gazebo back there with a P.A. and sound board and it was good. I was able to work the mic for best dynamic range. What a treat. Haven't had it that good in awhile. Only screwed up a little bit.
***since I keep posting and will be gone, I am trying the write-now-post-it-later-automatically option
Friday, July 27, 2012
At the Crossroads
(somewhere in the neighborhood. pulled this off a 4x4 site. The road is not quite that bad. Lots of places off the path for these guys. I searched my street name and photos and this is definitely where I live)At the top of the steep hill which is all unpaved, bumping dirt road, I turn left to reach my place. There is a sign there at the corner and little area for other signs or what have you.
Today there were cars pulled over at that corner and a woman flagged me down. They were gathered to toast a man who died up here recently. He was a big force in the neighborhood fire council, and road maintenance. His illness came fairly quickly and he did not suffer for too long. The condition of the dirt road speaks loudly of how much his influence is missed. I have to reduce speed to about two miles per hour in spots, or else my fillings would be rattled out of my teeth. I don't have many fillings, but I need them.
I thought it was an interesting and touching thing that people stopped and the ones already there handed them ginger ale or a martini to toast Dave. This is a unique neighborhood.
A group of five people on horseback stopped by while I was there. They were just out for a late afternoon ride, in the cool before sundown. They live a little further up the road. There are several horses up here. East county is horse country.
I'm somewhat less social than just about everyone else, but they flagged me down by name. Then the lady said she'd been keeping up with my music exploits on facebook. Cliff's wife and others post video clips and pictures which include me or sometimes feature me. I don't put anything there. It was a nice thing to hear, in any case. I guess the people remember me from the party last year. And maybe from my short lived association with the cute cowgirl up the hill. That was a case in which backing up was the correct solution for me. But I have no regret.
I've never lived anywhere like this. If I moved and didn't have a mile of dirt road and lots of distance from other dwellings, I'd be disappointed. This place could spoil a guy. It has spoiled a guy. Some very nice people. We also have our crazies, but they cause few problems. What a find this place was.
****when you can't cover your corruption otherwise, and your lies are transparent, best thing to do is appeal to a vaguely religious nerve, even if it is nonsense.
Jerry Brown and Arnold recently came to Alpine to dedicate the sunrise power link fiasco, and I guess rub salt in the wound:
Gov. Brown: "Earth’s Future is More Important Than Preserving East County". ????Come again? You've created a fire hazard, destroyed land, etc. etc. Well, good news, Earthlings, the future of your planet is now secure. Dingbat Brown has pronounced it so!
east edge of Alpine (I love these official dedications by corrupt bureaucrats pretending they are doing a favor to the world instead of stealing and lying. Such phony creeps)The point is: our ex republican governator and our present democratic governor, Moonbeam, are in on the same corruption. Do not believe that republicans are into big money and dems aren't. That is patently false.
Oh, the ex-Governator also had a great quote at this event: "Dis wil bwing Mega Bytes of ewectwicity to da people..." Can't wait for them mega bytes, Ahnold. Watt you say?
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Our Evolving Language: part 7252012
If you think the previous posts were about my new skid plate, you are wrong wrong wrong.
Obviously, I was referring to autopilot, and the wisdom of hopping in the back seat for a nap while cruising the interstate when you feel a little drowsy. Anyone who suggests I was talking about skid plates and oil recycling at WalMart is clearly a racist.
Speaking of racist, I had to almost stop completely to let a herd of turkeys cross the highway near Descanso. The first couple would have made it had I only slowed a little. Most of the other eight would have been rendered lifeless. They had that look like, "I know this is a bad idea, but we are following them. That is our number one job, even if it kills us."
I didn't realize turkeys were into single file travel. Maybe it is only when they cross the street. That way, if the leader misjudges, some will survive. If they all crossed in a big clump, then if one gets hit, chances are, most will.
In the rear view mirror I noticed three rebels who held back until I passed by. Then they scampered in single file across the road to catch the others. The car about a tenth of a mile back had to slow a bit.
It is odd that he did that. In california, the normal procedure if a car is entering the highway ahead is to speed up drastically. These people are polite to turkeys and rabbits, rude to one another. Are we the only species that treats other species better than our own? I tend to think so.
I did have that urge to test my new skid plate, but A) I don't eat turkey, and B) I don't know if that is grounds for arrest and jail time in CA. Some guy was on trial for picking on an opossum (in speech, I always say "possum") and posting it on youtube. I don't know if he killed it or merely bullied the creature.
Not nice, but is it worth the thousands of dollars court costs? And and the cost of room and board in jail? Not that I think jail is a nice place. I'm looking at relative costs to humanity here. Maybe they gave him community service hours in a rescue home or soup kitchen for rodents and prehistoric marsupials.
Either way, you probably don't know I was just discussing dodge ball, which would mean you are a...
Obviously, I was referring to autopilot, and the wisdom of hopping in the back seat for a nap while cruising the interstate when you feel a little drowsy. Anyone who suggests I was talking about skid plates and oil recycling at WalMart is clearly a racist.
Speaking of racist, I had to almost stop completely to let a herd of turkeys cross the highway near Descanso. The first couple would have made it had I only slowed a little. Most of the other eight would have been rendered lifeless. They had that look like, "I know this is a bad idea, but we are following them. That is our number one job, even if it kills us."
I didn't realize turkeys were into single file travel. Maybe it is only when they cross the street. That way, if the leader misjudges, some will survive. If they all crossed in a big clump, then if one gets hit, chances are, most will.
In the rear view mirror I noticed three rebels who held back until I passed by. Then they scampered in single file across the road to catch the others. The car about a tenth of a mile back had to slow a bit.
It is odd that he did that. In california, the normal procedure if a car is entering the highway ahead is to speed up drastically. These people are polite to turkeys and rabbits, rude to one another. Are we the only species that treats other species better than our own? I tend to think so.
I did have that urge to test my new skid plate, but A) I don't eat turkey, and B) I don't know if that is grounds for arrest and jail time in CA. Some guy was on trial for picking on an opossum (in speech, I always say "possum") and posting it on youtube. I don't know if he killed it or merely bullied the creature.
Not nice, but is it worth the thousands of dollars court costs? And and the cost of room and board in jail? Not that I think jail is a nice place. I'm looking at relative costs to humanity here. Maybe they gave him community service hours in a rescue home or soup kitchen for rodents and prehistoric marsupials.
Either way, you probably don't know I was just discussing dodge ball, which would mean you are a...
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Skids 2; info in case you try this at home
quick heads up: http://autopartsoem.net/ is an outfit that spams with BS in comments and leaves their link. I'd never do business with them. And if it is just a person leaving comments about how I should do my page, then leaving the link--that is one sick cookie
So, I worked Monday evening as the sun was setting, the breeze was picking up, and the heat less oppressive. First, as indicated in the sketchy, yet not illustrated, instructions, I removed the existing plastic under guard. Then I proceeded to change the oil. No need to install the new shiny skid plate, then take it off to perform this task.
That being done, I installed the new item. I forget the designation of that type of aluminum which is aircraft grade, blablabla. 30/60 or something. I made up those numbers. Anyway, it is very strong and hard, for aluminum. I can't imagine anyone needing the optional thicker version of this plate.
It fit a bit close to a piece of the heat shield around the header pipe of the exhaust, but I figured, maybe it is OK. The less than detailed instructions mentioned that "on some models" you could cut the plastic thing to retain the extra bit of splash guard. I had carefully saved all fasteners and did not trash the existing plastic thing in the process of removal. Just in case.
Now I had about a gallon of old oil in need of disposing. Not like the old days when you could just dump it back into the ground from whence it came, or use it to discourage growth of unwanted vegetation. Fortunately Walmart makes a big deal out of "being green" and how they are so nice that you can recycle the oil at their store. Well, not just anywhere, they don't want it in the aisles or all over the toy department, etc.
I know from experience that they have a place next to their oil change facility where they accept your old oil and dump it into a big tank. Unless Latisha is working. She makes you dump it.
They expect you to sign a sheet and include your address. Over the last year or so I have dumped oil there for Greg Rasputin, Eddie Van Halen, Nick Buonicotti, Robert E Lee, F. Lee Bailey. That is all I recall at the moment. I drive a lot, and I keep up with oil changes. All those people live in either Alpine, Pine Valley, Boulevard, or Jacumba. Addresses vary, and I do not recall the street names I give. Usually something festive like Fiesta way, or Los Cajones Fuerte.
What's with the info quiz to dump oil at a place that only takes it because they love you and want "to help the earth"?
It was after oil change hours and the chain link gate which is locked to protect the dirty oil room has a sizable gap, so I slid the gallon oil bottle in and left. I missed the challenge of creating a new donor identity. I was leaning toward Albert Gore, had the opportunity arisen.
The oil episode gave plenty of time and highway driving to see what I thought of the new skid plate, if anything. I thought the car was noisier, and kept being troubled by the thought that the plate was touching the heat shield.
Today, I examined the set up and opted to cut the old plastic under engine guard to retain that extra splash shield the instructions vaguely mentioned. I retained as much of it as possible, then realized I had to trim more and more or the aluminum part wouldn't fit.
Finally, I got 'er done. I also pulled the plate and took it to the back deck where I managed to cut a semi circle out of the edge which had been rubbing exhaust parts. The stuff is tough. I drilled many holes, then used a Dremel tool with those cutting disks to cut the in-betweens. Then I used the little drum sander attachment, and a grinder attachment to smooth it out.
The remaining plastic is a U-shape, with the bottom of the U riding up under the radiator. They should suggest that you do this, and offer a diagram showing where to cut. It is hard to judge it because you can't have both items installed at once, and things don't work exactly as you think they will from setting one on top of the other on the ground.
I'm fairly pleased with the result so far. Instantly quieter. I noticed the skid plate actually gives a bit more ground clearance than the plastic arrangement did. Not much, but possibly an inch. It has a pad which sits up against the oil pan, so I think close is the intention. I've decided this presents no cooling issues, but I'll spare you my analysis of that matter.
Now I believe I'll remain happy with this modification. Last night I was ready to chalk it up as another dumb purchase.
Because it came from an outfit which is involved in racing and modifying Subarus, I suppose the minimalist approach to offering info should be no surprise. I've noticed that many parts and wrench pull types think it is uncool to communicate adequately. Even though their main customers for this item are just regular Joes and Janes. I figured it out, I think. I've got the best of the old part and the new part now.
Still, to change oil, I have to undo four bolts and drop the thing down. Not much more trouble than all those inadequate fasteners for the old access panel, and once it is off the oil and filter work is easier. What happens if I take it in to a quick oil change place? I do not know. Part of the reason I change my own is because the old system seemed too much for them to handle without screwing it up--either no crush washer on the plug, or missing fasteners on the plastic panel. Or both.
If I were Mr. Subaru, I'd design a much easier and more durable system for oil change and under engine protection.
****helpful hint: if you are doing work of this nature in a ground up bark covered lot, it pays to have old drop cloths. Fortunately I have several, two or three of which are reserved specifically for auto maintenance. ****
So, I worked Monday evening as the sun was setting, the breeze was picking up, and the heat less oppressive. First, as indicated in the sketchy, yet not illustrated, instructions, I removed the existing plastic under guard. Then I proceeded to change the oil. No need to install the new shiny skid plate, then take it off to perform this task.
That being done, I installed the new item. I forget the designation of that type of aluminum which is aircraft grade, blablabla. 30/60 or something. I made up those numbers. Anyway, it is very strong and hard, for aluminum. I can't imagine anyone needing the optional thicker version of this plate.
It fit a bit close to a piece of the heat shield around the header pipe of the exhaust, but I figured, maybe it is OK. The less than detailed instructions mentioned that "on some models" you could cut the plastic thing to retain the extra bit of splash guard. I had carefully saved all fasteners and did not trash the existing plastic thing in the process of removal. Just in case.
Now I had about a gallon of old oil in need of disposing. Not like the old days when you could just dump it back into the ground from whence it came, or use it to discourage growth of unwanted vegetation. Fortunately Walmart makes a big deal out of "being green" and how they are so nice that you can recycle the oil at their store. Well, not just anywhere, they don't want it in the aisles or all over the toy department, etc.
I know from experience that they have a place next to their oil change facility where they accept your old oil and dump it into a big tank. Unless Latisha is working. She makes you dump it.
They expect you to sign a sheet and include your address. Over the last year or so I have dumped oil there for Greg Rasputin, Eddie Van Halen, Nick Buonicotti, Robert E Lee, F. Lee Bailey. That is all I recall at the moment. I drive a lot, and I keep up with oil changes. All those people live in either Alpine, Pine Valley, Boulevard, or Jacumba. Addresses vary, and I do not recall the street names I give. Usually something festive like Fiesta way, or Los Cajones Fuerte.
What's with the info quiz to dump oil at a place that only takes it because they love you and want "to help the earth"?
It was after oil change hours and the chain link gate which is locked to protect the dirty oil room has a sizable gap, so I slid the gallon oil bottle in and left. I missed the challenge of creating a new donor identity. I was leaning toward Albert Gore, had the opportunity arisen.
The oil episode gave plenty of time and highway driving to see what I thought of the new skid plate, if anything. I thought the car was noisier, and kept being troubled by the thought that the plate was touching the heat shield.
Today, I examined the set up and opted to cut the old plastic under engine guard to retain that extra splash shield the instructions vaguely mentioned. I retained as much of it as possible, then realized I had to trim more and more or the aluminum part wouldn't fit.
Finally, I got 'er done. I also pulled the plate and took it to the back deck where I managed to cut a semi circle out of the edge which had been rubbing exhaust parts. The stuff is tough. I drilled many holes, then used a Dremel tool with those cutting disks to cut the in-betweens. Then I used the little drum sander attachment, and a grinder attachment to smooth it out.
The remaining plastic is a U-shape, with the bottom of the U riding up under the radiator. They should suggest that you do this, and offer a diagram showing where to cut. It is hard to judge it because you can't have both items installed at once, and things don't work exactly as you think they will from setting one on top of the other on the ground.
I'm fairly pleased with the result so far. Instantly quieter. I noticed the skid plate actually gives a bit more ground clearance than the plastic arrangement did. Not much, but possibly an inch. It has a pad which sits up against the oil pan, so I think close is the intention. I've decided this presents no cooling issues, but I'll spare you my analysis of that matter.
Now I believe I'll remain happy with this modification. Last night I was ready to chalk it up as another dumb purchase.
Because it came from an outfit which is involved in racing and modifying Subarus, I suppose the minimalist approach to offering info should be no surprise. I've noticed that many parts and wrench pull types think it is uncool to communicate adequately. Even though their main customers for this item are just regular Joes and Janes. I figured it out, I think. I've got the best of the old part and the new part now.
Still, to change oil, I have to undo four bolts and drop the thing down. Not much more trouble than all those inadequate fasteners for the old access panel, and once it is off the oil and filter work is easier. What happens if I take it in to a quick oil change place? I do not know. Part of the reason I change my own is because the old system seemed too much for them to handle without screwing it up--either no crush washer on the plug, or missing fasteners on the plastic panel. Or both.
If I were Mr. Subaru, I'd design a much easier and more durable system for oil change and under engine protection.
****helpful hint: if you are doing work of this nature in a ground up bark covered lot, it pays to have old drop cloths. Fortunately I have several, two or three of which are reserved specifically for auto maintenance. ****
The Skids
Skid plate before changing oil, removing the plastic stuff and installing it.
It comes off easy enough.
Foggy corner of pic is because I had to tape my phone case together and a bit of the tape was over the lens.
I'll wait until I'm sure before offering a definitive review. It looked cool, as polished aluminum usually does. The little vents help.
It is a tough item.
If a rabbit hits it with his head, no longer will little plastic nonsense fasteners fall out causing something to drag on the highway.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Quick Sanding Hint
If one were to be running a power sander for hours at a time, and he had the wherewithal to figure out the advantages of ear plugs early in this project, you'd think he'd have known that it would behoove him to employ the services of the dusk masks, which are easily found in the modern marketplace, before completing 9/10 of the power sanding which the project entails.
However, even if only one hour out of twenty was worked using the dusk mask, one glance at the thing after an hour or two of sanding would confirm its value.
I'm out of breath just typing this. And the sanding is done for now. Two hours out of more than I'm willing to admit. Only two hours of not breathing finely ground teak and who knows what mixed in. I will say the balance of unprotected sanding was less than 100 hours.
I'm an idiot.
--still pleased with the 1/4 sheet sander made by Ridgid
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
