MOVIE: Air Guitar Nation

Yet another documentary. Air Guitar Nation chronicles America's first entry into the international Air Guitar championships, held annually in Oulo, Finland. An East Coast champion, David "C-Diddy" Jung, arises in New York, and travels to California to compete against the West Coast champion. The winner represents America at the finals in Oulo.

A terribly great movie. Almost too-fast pacing. Superb direction. A smooth master piece put together from a storm of footage. Interviews are great. Scenes from the contests are great. Fantastic "characters." Amazing performances. And a completely satisfying conclusion to an epic adventure.

Date flick? I think so. Kid flick, with the exception of one scene from the "quarter finals" at a bar in Oulo, Finland, it is pretty safe for older kids. Worth a rental? Yes, yes, yes! I didn't catch it on the Big Screen, but it was great at home. Highly recommended for any arm chair rockers.

Rock Band Jams

After a much better night's sleep and a much better day at work, I came home to a happy smiling krewe. We ate pizza and played a couple of Rock Band jams. Some new records on Green Grass And High Tides: high score of 411, 458, and a 450 note streak for me.

It's good to be able to rock, again.

MOVIE: American Teen

American Teen is an interesting documentary about the lives of five kids in middle American and their journey through their senior year in high school.

I could be wrong, but high school has definitely calmed down over the last twenty years. There was a noticeable lack of drugs, sex, and violence. They seem to have been replaced by drama, cell phones, and basketball. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see that high school isn't about scoring drugs or panties any more. And thrilled to see kids focusing on college and their future. But I find it hard to believe that MY DAYS in high school were somehow more enjoyable than these kids. And trust me, I led a laughably boring life.

Otherwise, it was an enjoyable flick. Good pacing and direction. Interesting twists. A keen insight into the modern life of modern teens. Not sure if any awards are in order, and it won't be on many adults' watch list, but the current generation of teenagers would like it. Makes for a decent rental during a slow foggy night in Mississippi.

Stricken

Yesterday wasn't one of my better days. The Meniere's was firing on all pistons and threatened to knock me flat throughout most of the day. It started first thing in the morning, right after I had some breakfast. I ended up stripping down to the boxers and crashing on the sofa. For more than an hour. Fortunately it was only mild vertigo when I walked, not the severe, crippling vertigo whenever I moved my head. But it was close. And after a long break, it passed. Then I was able to go to work.

The disease still lingered in the back of my ear, though. I had to shuffle slowly from the parking lot to my office. Threatened with tripping at each step. Ambling down the halls like a gray octogenarian. Having to steady myself by touching a wall or railing. Couldn't look up. Couldn't take the stairs. Had to pace myself and measure small victories with each step. The whole time, I'm sick to my stomach, clenching my jaw each time a wave of nausea rises up.

Wasn't so bad at my desk. I figured out that jacking up the chair so that I have to look down at my keyboard and monitors is a big help. Staring straight ahead. Not turning as people come by. Bringing the phone to me, not leaning in toward it. Using all my tricks to stay calm and cool.

It worked, mostly. I didn't get the heaves or the sweating. I stayed the course. And made it home. Even though I was stricken.

MOVIE: Ping Pong Playa

I think this was a niche comedy. I'm just not sure which niche. Asian viewers? Basket ball players? Ping pong players? Some devious combination of the three? Whichever, it was still mildly outside of its given niche.

Ping Pong Playa is a light, modern comedy about Christopher "C-Dub" Wang and his gradual transition from a "baller" to a ping pong champion. C-Dub has an unusual gift for relating to children and it lends well to his unexpecting promtion to coach for his mother's ping pong class. Through his many urban trials and tribulations, he eventually finds himself comepeting for the Gold Cock. Along the way he learns about friendship, family, and (dare I say it) love, while coming up with new and unique ways to mangle and engligh language.

The writing wasn't bad. Likely a decade too young for my complete enjoyment. The acting was fair simple.  Good dialogs, though. Some funny scenes. Fairly quick pacing. But not one of the most original movies of the year. Satisfying, but predictable ending.

Not a date movie in my book. Almost kid friendly. But the teen - mid twenty scene might get more enjoyment out of it than I did. Worth a rental on a slow rainy day.

One Remaining Nail

After weeks of worry and days of drama, it finally happened. When we finished playing Rock Band ("Run... to.. the... hills!") Liam starting shaking his hand, almost violently. Then he was rubbing his fingers. And it nearly popped right off. His thumb nail. The fading, grey wounded one. It had been looking creepy for weeks. And finally came off tonight. He clenched his jaw and pulled it free from the last thin filament of living flesh. In the end, no tears. No whimpering. Just Liam and his one remaining nail.

MOVIE: Man On Wire

Apparently in 1974 a silly frenchman named Philippe Petit snuck onto the unfinished rooves (that's plural for roof, right?) of the Twin Towers, strung a rope between them, and did a highwire dance between the two for almost an hour before NYC's finest hauled him off to jail.

Man On Wire tells Philippe's story about the historic crossing. In his own words. His girlfriend's words. And his cohorts' words. There are plenty of interviews, pictures, and lots of video footage. I kept thinking, "This is impossible. He'll never do it." But it wasn't. And he did.

The tale unwinded gracefully. Very good pacing. It kept teasing the viewer with the knowledge of what was coming, inching slowly toward that final journey. Great direction. Not too much interviewing. Not too many odd, confusing flashbacks. Phenominal dialog. All of Philippe's pieces were great. He's a gifted artist on many levels. I loved listening to his recounting of the adventure. And all around good writing.

I can see why it made no splash at the theaters. Probably not a date movie. Would definitely bore the kids these days. But, I'd be surprised if it wasn't nominated for some awards as a documentary. For somebody with an interest in odd snippets of history, it is worth the rental.

Beetle Build - Day Three Point Two

I hate failure. It haunts me. Burns the back of my eyes. Grinds my teeth to nubs and burrows into my jawbone. I spent all last night and most of this morning dwelling  on  yesterday's lack of productivity on the Beetle. And suddenly an idea bubbled up from the depths of my self-consternation. Two words: heat gun.

So I slipped on the cargo shorts, laced up the workboots, threw a couple of tools into the truck, and set off for another attempt to get the tar pads off the floor boards of the Beetle.

Two hours with the heat gun, a scraper, and a belly full of grim determination ensued. Slowly, but surely, one inch at a time. I'd heat the tar, wedge the blade of the scraper under the edge, then force it up. Very tedious work. Not the least bit pleasant. But it was a great deal less pleasant than failing again.

Eventually, with much gnashing of teeth, I was done. Both sides of the car. And the back firewall. Everything scraped down, close to the metal. Ready to be de-greased and re-sealed.

The final picture does little justice to my efforts, but there's a clear lack of tar paper and the grooves are visible, now.

What That's From?

So I take the busted-up sandblaster back to Harbor Freight this morning. The waifish, tattooed girl behind the counter frightened me. Literally. She couldn't stop fidgeting. Her movements were over-exaggerated. Chaotic. She kept flicking her hair. She'd sniff and touch her nose. Her speech was stilted and rushed. She wouldn't look at me. She forgot what I was returning.After she paged the manager on the speaker system, "Ineedamanageronregistertwo," she slammed down the phone. The cannon-like thump of plastic on plastic echoing throughout the store. Unfortunately she missed the handle. And had to slam the phone down again. More thumping. She got it right on the THIRD try. The whole place filled with the crash of all three failures.

Waiting next to me, another shopper leaned over to whisper, "You know what that's from?"

"Oh yeah," I nodded. "I know."

She actually forgot to refund the price of the extra filters I bought (but didn't use) for my mask. I didn't care. I asked her not to worry about it and left with them.

She frightened me. Literally.

MOVIE: Speed Racer

I wish I had seen Speed Racer on the big screen. It would have been fantastic.

Unfortunately this movie was a complete flop at the theaters. It cost about $120M to make it. (They spent $80M on marketing!) It brought in $43M in the American box offices. And I avoid it because of the reviews it received. I don't know why it was unfairly tarnished, though. It was a fantastic homage to the 1970s Japanese anime series of the same name. In all aspects, it was absolutely perfect.

I loved the Racer family. Especially Spritle. Speed was great. Pops was great. Trixie was awesomely un-accentuated. And Rex was great.

I loved the racing. Awesome awesome awesome interpretations of the strange twisted tracks and even the long cross-country races from the cartoon. Drifting was incredible. Car battles were amazing. And I couldn't get enough of the noise that the Mach 5 would make as it sprung off the ground. My hat is off to the Wachowski Brothers for their astonishing spin on such a difficult subject.

I loved the villains. The main protagonist (Mr Royalton) gave a fine performance as he portrayed the seedy underbelly (ie: sponsors) of racing. While the other minor villains (Snake Oiler, Cannonball, Dour Face, etc) were superbly cartoonish, inept, and stood no chance of succeeding, even against a boy and his monkey. Very true to the original and very entertaining.

The writing was absolutely in sync with the spirit of the original series. The direction was exceptionally well done given the style and scope of the movie. The acting was surprisingly good. I truly enjoyed the dialogs between Speed & Pops, Speed & Mr Royalton, and Speed & Racer X. The pacing couldn't have been better. The 2.5hr film seemed like a couple of 30 minute episodes. And OH-MY-GOD the effects were earth shattering.Completely unique style, untouched by anything that I've ever seen. Best effects of the year, no doubt about it.

I applaud the movie and rank it far above such recent flops as the Fantastic Four, which grossed $130M and stunk worse than a used diaper wrapped in Indian food.It is not easy bringing a cartoon like Speed Racer to life. The Wachowski brothers did it. And did it right. I honestly believe the poor reception of Speed Racer was due to people over-thinking the movie, expecting it to be a watered-down, Americanized, enlightened and realistically modernized version of the cartoon I grew up watching nearly 40 years ago.

Sadly, I don't think any adults who were not fans of the original series will enjoy it. They won't get it. They'll have no basis of comparison. I think kids will enjoy it, though. They'll get it. And they'll enjoy it for what it is: a whimsical, light-hearted adventure about a boy, his family, and his car.

FOOD: Winter Garden

Between failed projects, we had lunch at Winter Garden, in Long Beach, MS. It is two doors down from my Grandmother's house. Its backyard is diagonal to my parent's yard. And we pretty much watched the place get built over the last year.

The interior is still a work in progress. The floor is stained and etched cement. The chairs look like remnants from a Chinese food place. And there are unfinished sketches on the walls. It has potential and might have a good bar (we didn't check it out) but the hand-crafted snowflakes dangling from the ceiling threw me for a loop. What do people in South MS know about snowflakes? It would be like flying rebel flags in a New England Clam Chowder shop.

Anyway, the wait staff was good. Our waitress took good care of us. The menu was interesting. I think the food is supposed to be an American spin on international favorites. Some Mexican, some Cuban, some Italian, plus burgers and a lot of breakfast food. Rob and Roger had the Cuban sammich. I wasn't partial to the fact that it wasn't Cuban bread, didn't have hot mustard, and had tomatoes and lettuce on it. (Every Cuban I've ever had was only meat + mustard + pickles.)

So I took a leap of faith and tried the Taco Salad. The pulled pork in the midle was very tender and nicely seasoned. It had a lot of cheese. The shell was very good. But the lettuce was mostly the foul white bones that I can't stand to eat. It was drowning in tomatoes. And I was expecting some spicy beef to be on it. Also missing was the sour cream (though the server brought me some on the side) and the salsa or any manner of dressing.

Roger and Rob both enjoyed their Cuban's.

I may go back and try a burger and a drink at the bar. The Taco Salad had potential, but I won't be trying it again.

Beetle Build - Day Three Point One

The plan for today was to clean the cruft from the interior and the front (bonnet) compartment. Get it down to perhaps the bare metal, and maybe put down some Rustoleum and/or primer. An all around visual improvement was envisioned.

The first thought was: get a sand blaster! Air + abbrasive = clean body. Renting one turned out problematic. The only blaster I could rent was too powerful. It was made for cleaning brick and steel I-beams. So I had to buy one from Harbor Freight. The hardware wasn't too expensive ($100 for a 40 gallon unit) but the material (walnut shells!) was $1/pound. So a 25lb bag cost me $25. Roger said that wouldn't go far. But he's never blasted with walnut shells.

Anyway, an hour to put the unit together. An hour to figure out how we're supposed to use it. Two hours to figure out it doesn't work. First the moisture trap literally shot off of the unit. It must has expanded and spread over the threaded seal, and then went off like a bottle rocket. Then we couldn't get any of the walnut shells to shoot out. It kept getting glogged in the lines. And by lunch time, it was clearly a losing cause. We'd wasted all that time and worn the funny shroud for nothing.

Plan B was to use chemicals to devour the cruft. Old Top at Ace Hardware suggested I use lacquer thinner. That would get up the nasty tar paper. I might have to lift up the crime, but the toxic liquid would make short work of it. So I buy a gallon of it, some rubber gloves, and give that a shot.

New mask, but notice I'm not smiling? That is because Plan B was a bust, too. The Styrofoam was very quickly dissolved. But the tar under it wasn't. It just sat there, thick and angry. Mocking me.

I was still left with a mess. A different mess, indeed, but still not what I had envisioned. So, once again, more time wasted. More money wasted. And it started to rain. Not a good day at all.

We're thinking Plan C is: scrape up the tar or try a wire wheel (via angle grinder) on it. Then use some POR15 products to degrease the body, prep the body, and coat everything (even any remaining rust) with any extra layer of sealant that the painter can cover with a topcoat.

Some actual work was accomplished: we did pressure wash the front (bonnet) compartment, removed the old protective barriers in the engine compartment, and washed out the back.

But, for a weekend's worth of work, I'm pretty ashamed of how little we did, along with the wasted time and wasted money. Hopefully Plan C will prove fruitful.

Resolutions New & Old

The older I get, the easier it is to keep my resolutions. I don't know if I'm getting better at sticking to them or if I'm just lowering the bar each year.

Last year I resolved to: 1) Spend more time with the kids, 2) Slough off some pounds, 3) Unclutter my life, and 4) Write.

To that effort, I like to think I've spent more time with the kids than any previous year, I dropped fifteen pounds (from 217 -> 202), I cleaned out my office as well as several areas of the house, and I wrote over three hundred and fifty entries on ye ol' blog.

And so, this year, I hearby resolve to: 1) Spend more time with Cindy and the kids, 2) Slough off some more pounds, 3) Unclutter even more of my life, and 4) Write more than last year. With a special bonus resolution: Make a measurable impact on the Gulf Coast.

Thus it begins...

MOVIE: Doubt

This movie is an intense, twisting dichotomy. Everything lurches to extreme ends of the spectrum. It balances the audience precariously on an ever-elusive tipping point between two opposing sides. The old, stoic church versus the new family-oriented church. Storms versus sunlight. Tradition versus modernity. Light versus dark. The idle innocence of youth versus the knowing contempt of the aged. Logic versus intuition. Man versus woman. Certainty versus doubt. Oh. And between all these conflicting elements, there is a great deal of top-notch acting.

I really enjoyed Doubt. Very well written. Tighly nestled in its roots of the mid-1960s. All the accents and mannerisms. Smooth, believable dialog  Effortless pacing. No major drags in the flow from scene to scene. Great direction. And a plot that unwinded cooly while ending in a stellar culmination.

I'd be very hard pressed to come up with any negative comments. It was a very good movie that held its own from beginning to end. Made for a great flick. Certainly no room for kids. And when it comes out on DVD (after winning a number of awards, I'm sure) it will be well worth the price of a rental.

Dog Days Of 09

2009 is not off to a good start. I'm fighting off some odd infection but doing a poor job of it. It started Sunday, with my sinuses acting up. Eyes watering. Nose running. On Monday, the burning started. I'd have to squint at times and rub my thumbs in my eye sockets. Tuseday, it turned into pain. Like a headache in my face. Everything below my eyebrows and above my chin HURT. It felt like I'd been punched in the face all night. No blood or swelling, just the ache close to my bones. I went to the medical clinic at work, for some help. Since nothing I sneezed up was discolored, but my sinsuses were running like a faucet, the nurse thought I was having an allergic reaction of some sort. She gave me a shot "in the hip" of cortisone. And some antibiotics. But Tuesday I developed a cough. And last night I woke myself up coughing. My usual lack of sleep compounded with half a night of choking did not go over too well. Today has been a complete waste as a result. No energy. No drive. No desire to do anything.

Fortunately Cindy and the kids aren't sick. Just me.Hopefully I'm over the worst of it. On the road to recovery. And a more pleasant New Year.

As Cindy and the kids call it a night, I thought I'd close out 2008 recalling some of the memorable events of the past year here at Chateau McDougal:

• It certainly was a rough year at work. My mother retires, my brother gets his hours cut, my Dad is laid off for the first time in his life. Where once we had six family members at the same job, now we have two.
• We made a lot of improvements on the house. The living room, dining room, and back bathroom are remodeled.
• Liam's emergency surgeries, Cindy's unexpected hospital stays, and my neck gave us brief scares.
• We managed to take our first vacation without the kids.
• Both of the kids picked up new foods to eat.
• Doctor Benson fixed my torn rotator cuff without any invasive surgery.
• We nimbly dodged Ike & Gustav.
• I read a lot of books.
• I watched a lot of movies.
  
• And Tales From The Eye was able to hit #1 for a Google query. (If only briefly.)

Not such a bad year, all things considered.

Guarded By Baby Meg

Though she looks sullen, Cindy sleeps well knowing that she is being guarded throughout the night by Baby Meg.

Top Tooth

Uncle D pulled Meg's wiggly top tooth today. She had been wrestling with it all weekend and finally let us give it a tug today. Cindy couldn't get it. But her brother could. And now Cupcake is lighter by one baby tooth.

Green Drinks Gulfport #1

The first Green Drinks in Gulfport didn't go as well as I hoped. I'm going to attribute it to bad timing on my part. I'll tell myself that everyone was wrapped up with their own holiday plans and couldn't squeeze one more invent into their schedule. I should not have wedged it between two holidays. I timed it poorly and had a poor turn out as a result.

I'll have to cast a wider net. Get more direct contacts with people for the next time. And plan it better.

Friends Revisited

One of the milestones in each of my years is marked by Peter's return during the holidays. He flies down from D.C. to stay with his parents. We hang out at his house for a couple of hours. Then drive over to Pat's, eat his food, drink his drinks, and game his games.

Today we had lunch (heaping plates of fresh lasagna) then sat around playing Kingdoms, Puerto Rico, and some Poker derivative based on cats and bags and angry blue dogs.

And that's how I spent my entire day. Not the most glamorous life. And I didn't win anything we played. But good laughs with good friends are a hard combination to top.

Beetle Build - Day Two

It was raining today, we didn't have much time to start on prolonged or intricate work, and Roger didn't have any small plans. So we only did demo work. But today did have one interesting exception: Liam came to help.

First on the list was the dashboard. It had clearly been removed at least once. And the last time it was put back in place,  it was done only half-assed.  Whomever did it ruined the screw holes and used all different screws. Not to mention that it wasn't very attractive any more. Cracked and faded. If it could be salvaged, it was waaaay beyond our limited skills.

Liam helped track down the screws and removed all of them. Then it was a matter of angling the dash correctly and lifting it over the steering wheel. Finally we had to disconnect a couple of wires and the radio. And it all came out, destined for the quickly growing junk pile.

Mister Super Helper stayed busy, grabbing pieces and hauling them over to the side of the house or putting stray stuff into trash pile. Being old and lazy, both Roger and I were glad to have him there.
For his effort, I took an action shot of Ol' Slick. Him and his screw driver and the dashboard he helped conquer. Oh, for the energy of our former youth. And hopefully he learns something from the experience. It is all new for me. I never helped my father do ANYTHING when I was a kid. Didn't build anything, didn't work on the car, didn't work around the house. Nothing. Yet thirty years later, I find it all interesting and relaxing. Strange how things have a way of working themselves out like that. And these days I'd rather work with my hands than work on a computer. God-only-knows where My Boy will be thirty years hence. Maybe he'll have the flying car that I always thought I'd have by the time I was out of school.

Anyway, once the dash was out, we targeting the seats. While extremely comfortable, the front ones didn't work very well. The passenger side took an act of Congress to get it in reclined correctly. And the driver's side wouldn't adjust forward or backward. It was pretty much rested into place. So Roger gave me the stinkeye for photographing him in action and we got to work removing everything.

The Germans did a good job of fixing things in place. We had to unconnect the cable mechanism used to adjust the seats' position, bend a metal clasp that was cleverly concealed under the rug, pull a retaining bar backwards from under the seat, and skid the seats off their rails. Fortunately, the backseat was easy breezey mac n cheesy to remove.

Ripped up the stanky old carpet. Scraped up the accoustic pads. Peeled off most of the cracked firewall. Cleaned up our mess. And called it a day.

Christmas '08

It is Christmas in South Mississippi. Seventy Five degrees! And I'm wearing shorts.

Meg woke up at 0330 last night. She bolted down the hall and woke up her brother. Together they came to wake us and asked if they could open their presents. Denied. So we all slept for a couple of more hours and opened presents at 0630.

Ate lunch with my parents, my Grand Mother, my Uncle Earl, and Aunt Susan's family. We had the buffet at Island View Casino. It would have been good if it weren't $20/head. We won't be doing THAT next year.

Then we opened presents at Grandma's house with my family, and my brother Jason.

Then we opened presents at Gigi's house.with Cindy's family.

Then we spent almost two hours playing Rock Band on the Wii with Darren's brother and his crew. Amazingly good time. And everyone was in awe of Liam's ability to instantly pick up all the new songs and play them on the HARD level, without any apparent effort or fear.

Aside from the enjoyment of spending time with our families and absorbing the Christmas spirit, Rock Band was unquestionably the highlight of almost everyone's day. Even the teenaged Neices were digging it.

A good way to end a bad year. Bring on 2009 already!

Silent Night - '08

Liam and Meg are in the church choir this year. It's Liam and fifteen girls. (Good odds, I tell him.) They're both talented singers. I, of course, sing like a lizard. And I'm complete tone deaf. Cindy's genetics, however, has a rich history of exceptional singers. Both of Cindy's parents were in a traveling gospel group. Cindy's mother often sings at events. And Cindy's brother is one of the best singers in the adult choir. (Cindy usually only sings after she has been drinking. (Which means she almost never sings any more.) But on those rare occasions, she completely hypnotizes me with her voice.) That whole side of the family tree have golden voices. And it wasn't lost on the kids.

So, tonight is "Silent Night," at the church. Both of our children sang. Meg instinctively her the pack. She knows all of her lyrics, knows her dance moves, and when to pickup/put down her little jiggle bell thing. The rest of the kids in her group all follow her lead. And her voice is clearly audible above the rest. Liam has a solo during his portion. He did a phenomenal job of keeping his composure. And of course his has an angelic singing voice like a beautiful little girl. (That's an inside joke hearkening back to when I was in choir 30yrs ago.) We were all extremely proud of them and happy that they were able to contribute to the nights' events.

Otherwise, service was quick and painless. I took communion for the first time in my life. Cindy asked me politely and said it would set a good example for the kids. So, wearing my fancy green Santa tie, I ate of the flesh and drank of the blood without any protest. All in good fun and in honor of the rest of my family and their beliefs. Fortunately I didn't combust or turn into a pillar of salt.

Hopefully we'll be able to sleep tonight. Santa is far from done. And we're waiting for him to do his deeds so we can call it a night.

Merry Christmas to all.

Meg's Designer Rudolf Chow

Meg: "Do you think reindeers like oatmeal mixed with crushed fruitloops and green glitter?"

Jon: "..."

Meg: "That's what I made for them."

Jon: "..."

Ruby Anniversary

Quietly, covertly, my parents celebrated their 40th anniversary today.

Usually considered the "ruby anniversary." Dad said, "Yeah, another one. Right." Mom said, "Already?"

Two children. Three grand children. Six beloved dogs. One less Harley. And no more mortgage. Some interesting mile stones for two people to pass.

They have a twenty eight year head start on us, but Cindy and I will get there. One day.

Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad. I, for one, am proud of you. Thanks for keeping the ship afloat through all the rough waters.

Beetle Build - Day One

So we're only three months behind schedule. But finally started working on the Beetle. The engine is gone. Also removed the starter and some kind of strange charcoal device that cleaned the fuel before it entered the engine. The picture reveals the vast space we have for the new motor. Faintly visible are the tubes for the AC. Cleverly conceal, on the left. Air conditioning is a deal breaker. And I'm betting it will prove to be one of the more problematic elements of the build. Only time will tell, but I'm trying to plan ahead for it.

Next up is a picture of the actual motor. It took six weeks to get it ordered. A couple of weeks to find a fabricator willing to custom make the adapter plates and coupler. And three weeks to actually get the motor back. The large, all-silver metal bit on the right side of the motor is the custom built hardware. High grade aluminum. A bit outside my budget, but hopefully it was a learning experience for everyone involved and we'll do better next time.

The holes will mount up with the existing holes on the transmission bell housing. And the shaft on the new motor should line up directly with the splines on the existing transmission. As a side, the motor we're using is a Warp 9" and for the price, it is king of the hill. It is also a heavy sucker. Just over 100lbs. And feels like a solid hunk of iron.

With the back tires on some blocks, we balanced the motor on a jack, rolled it under the tail, and slowly jacked it into place. I wish I could say it took a Herculean effort and taxed us to our limits. But it didn't. It was surprisingly easy and went better than planned. The only thing we forgot to do was put the LockTite on the bolts the first time we screwed everything down. So we had to repeat that process a second time. Otherwise, no problems.

Then we moved to the front of the Beetle. Since we don't need the fuel tank, it has to go. Unfortunately it rests under the AC. So we yanked that out first. The balding dude is Roger. My oldest friend. He and I met in 5th grade. Had to be like 1981. Almost three decades later we're building an electric Beetle. Anyway, we found the well-concealed screws, disconnected the tubes, and pulled out the AC, which I doubt we'll re-use due to its age.

Finally with the air conditioner out of the way, we were able to take out the fuel tank. I either forgot to take a picture of the final product, or I deleted it. But now there is a very sizable empty space that is available for additional electronics or computer parts. Something will go in there, one way or another. We're planning on getting some sheet metal to cover it, and then work on getting some kind of replacement AC.

Almost forgot to mention the remnants of a bird that we found in the front. I voted for bird. Roger voted for mouse. Given the sharp angular look of the skull, I'm sticking with avian. 

We left it there, for good luck. We'll need it.

Then there were two

I've been away from the blog for a while. Part of it was due to multiple crashes on my PC. The first crash came from a motherboard failure. A week or more before I got a replacement installed. The second crash was due something around the Master Boot Record (MBR) failing. I ended up having to do a "Windows Repair" to fix it. A weekend to recover from that one. And this past Saturday it died again. Not sure what exactly caused it, but Dell says the error could have been related to a hard drive problem. Except I was using Mirrored drives. And they passed every test we put them through. In the end, I resorted to installing a fresh copy of Windows on a different drive, and pulling the untouched data off the original drives. I'm still not done re-installing everything I need to install and it will likely be next weekend before I'm finished.

The other reason I was gone was due to pure depression and fear. At my day job, I survived Layoff v3.0. But my father didn't. After 8 years of service and being voted Employee Of The Year in 2005, they fired him. And my younger brother had his hours cut back. Since both of them are hourly, they have no recourse and no severance. Of course Layoff v3.0 was neither quick nor clean. We all saw it coming and had to stand there, waiting. For weeks. Pretending we weren't scared and depressed. I couldn't really work out. I certainly couldn't write. This time last year there were five of us working for the same property.

And then there were two.

Gym Time With Boo

Liam went to the gym with me this morning. He wanted to work out. To try the weights. I was doing legs & shoulders. So he joined me. Aside from trying to keep his attention sometimes and trying to explain the weights to him, we had a great time. And Liam did a great job. He listens very well. And takes directions well. Made me very proud to see him put a serious effort into everything and challenge himself.

He had great form on the squats. After I took the photo I helped get his feet under his shoulders and his toes pointing straight ahead of him. He did great with about 40lbs. And he really enjoyed the leg press. The sled weighs about 45lbs. So he was almost pressing his own body weight.

Our first time together. I hope we have more in the future. I'm not going to push him. But if the spirit moves him, I'll be there waiting. And we can tackle the gym together.

Bonfire Party

Here is recipe for certain, unrefined chaos: take about twenty third graders to the beach, at night, hype them up on sugar and carbs, then give them fire. My beloved bride couldn't even stomach the THOUGHT of it. So she sent me along to protect Liam from inflammation or decapitation.

It was supposed to be a birthday party. Turned out to be quite the event. Most of Liam's class. A couple of siblings. Very few parents. Dark waves lapping at the sand. A fire leaping taller than any of the children dancing around it. High pitched squeel of girls. Bow Head following in Liam's every footstep. Hotdogs. Burgers. Delicious home-made chili. Smores. Or, would-be-smores, but mainly marshmallows getting broiled in the fire. Two hours of seething moshery with everyone running and screaming in every direction. I laughed all night.

In the end, we sang happy birthday. And the lucky girl decided to decorate her face with her cake. Smeared it around like war paint.

The kids thought it was brilliant. The parents cringed. When did we trade our bright glowing souls for these boring, ragged things we have as adults.

Dreaming Girls

Like clockwork, around 8PM every night, the girls drift off to sleep. (Even if they're watching TV on the sofa!) And the house grows very quiet.

Cindy. Meg. And Baby Meg. My three dreaming girls.

Back To Life

My PC had a rough couple of weeks. But it is (seemingly) back to life. It is a happy PC.

The first problem involved the SATA controller for the hard drives. I'm fairly sure it quietly died one morning. Dell had to dispatch an entire new motherboard, since the SATA controller isn't a seperate card.

The second problem stemmed from the first one. The MBR (Master Boot Record) was hosed. (That's a technical term we use these days.) The hardware on the PC didn't know how to bootup the PC properly because it couldn't find the bootup files on the disk. It didn't know where to look until I rewrote the MBR.

The third problem was likely related to the first one. Some of the Microsoft Windows files (mainly the HAL.DLL) died when the SATA controller crashed. Unfortunately it took two hours to repair all the damaged files and a couple more to run a multitude of Windows Updates. And then I had to wrestle with a corrupt installation of .NET.

Needless to say, I haven't been keen on working on the computer much. But I'll get back on track.

A Hero Remembered

March 11, 1942: General Douglas MacArthur reluctantly abandons the Philippine Islands. He departs vowing:, "I shall return."

In October of 1944, two and a half years later, MacArthur did return. And he brought my Grandfather, A.E. Kranz. Their new tactic was called it, "Island Hopping."  They rapidly proceeded from one area to another, taking each island as quickly and painlessly as possible. An amphibious blitzkreig by the Americans. My Grandfather was in charge of a "tank destroyer." His longest campaign was taking, "the Great Walled City Of Manilla," in the Phillipines.

Once they finished honoring MacArthur's promise, they packed up and targeted a new island. They were en route to Japan when they heard: we had dropped two bombs on the Japanese. A new kind: atomic bombs. And after the second one kissed the sky, the Japanese politely and quietly gave up.

My Grandfather returned a hero. He fathered three children with my grandmother. They gave him five grand children. And before he gave up the ghost last year, he was able to spend some time with his three great grand children.

Thank you, Doe. Not only for the family you helped create and nurture, but also for your sacrifice for our country. The world needs more heroes like you.