September 28, 2007

Communal Space.

One of the many weblogs I scan daily is Freelance Switch, which has all manner of helpful hints and information for the sole proprietor, small business owner, and hired gun. One recent article that caught my attention was about a group of Philadelphia free agents who essentially banded together to create a communal design space, called Independents Hall. The inspirational part, for me, was the story of the guy who saw a need to create a community, and went out and did it. The paragraph explaining how he got people involved is a case study for building interest in, well, anything, really:

“I started with going to all these different meet-up groups and finding ways to bring them together and cross-pollinate them. I did that sort of physical outreach and then started a mailing list, which was just a place for people to converse about…whatever. It didn’t really matter to me at the time. As long as they were talking, it was good,” he says. Soon, Hillman and some friends and colleagues started face-to-face events of their own...

...The first meeting consisted of four brave souls who came out in the middle of a snowstorm. The next one was a little bit bigger, and the next one even bigger. It kept snowballing from there says Hillman. “That whole visibility thing was finally starting to go somewhere, and people said ‘whoa I had no idea how much stuff was going on in Philadelphia. I had no idea that my neighbor was doing x-y-z,’ and I thought, ‘finally, people are getting this.’”

On a related topic, I've often thought it would be great to share part of the house here with other freelancers in the area, or find a cheap space to rent, fill it with tables, haul in a printer or two, set up a wireless network, and put the word out. I imagine, like any other community-building exercise, it would be taxing to be the glue and the energy, but I bet the underlying guidelines would be much the same as other successful online communities, only with flesh-and-blood people and not screen names.

Posted on September 28, 2007 1:58 PM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

September 27, 2007

Wayback Machine.

I have a new friend sitting on my desk this week: a working Powerbook 160. I don't know why this particular model struck my fancy—I suppose it was always something I wished I could afford back in my poverty days. Manufactured in 1992, it originally listed for $2,430, or about two months' salary at the time. Last week, it cost me $10 in postage and a DOA powerbook gathering dust on my shelf.

It's not small. It doesn't have a battery, and still weighs quite a bit. The screen is tiny. But it feels solid—something my fancy color 520 never did. It boots up in about 10 seconds, running System 7.1. The keyboard is springy and tight. The trackball (remember those?) is smooth and fast.

There are applications for modern Macs which are supposed to aid in productivity—going so far as to black out the entire screen so that the writer isn't tempted to check email, surf the internet, etc. My solution? I installed a copy of Word 5.1 and was writing within minutes. I can't get the machine on the internet without a dial-up account and a lot of patience, so there's no temptation to fool around reading the IMDB. I've already used it to produce some writing for work, which means it's paid for itself already. Sometimes the simple solutions really are the best ones.

Posted on September 27, 2007 12:14 AM | link to this entry | Comments (2)

September 26, 2007

More Progress (Plumbing Division).

This afternoon, we've got two nice fellows down in the basement wrestling part of our heating situation back into submission, which will increase the standard of living at the Lockardugan Compound. When the good Doctor expanded his waiting room outwards to the enclosed front porch, he moved the radiator from the dining room out there so that his patients wouldn't freeze while thumbing through Reader's Digests. Because the whole porch is so poorly insulated, any heat released out there immediately gets sucked outside, requiring the boiler to be run at dangerously expensive temperatures. Our first year here, I turned the valves out there down to 0 and waited until we could afford to make changes, but it always annoyed me to know we were heating the front yard.

Additionally, when we gutted the kitchen, we made a decision to remove the radiator there to make room for more cabinetry. The upshot of this decision was that there was no heat on the west side of the first floor last winter, which made entertaining (and cooking) a chilly prospect.

This is the first of many steps to reclaim the front porch for a habitable space within the house—we have dreams of using the reception room and office for another usable living space, as well as the exam room for a TV room/den. Having the radiator moved back inside will not be cheap, but I think that in the long run it will make the first floor a better place to live, and it's great to make a little forward movement.

Posted on September 26, 2007 1:43 PM | link to this entry | Comments (2)

September 25, 2007

Come In, We're Open

The Mobile Chapel is parked at a rest stop in southern Pennsylvania, and it's open for business at 6:30 on a Monday evening.

Posted on September 25, 2007 10:01 AM | link to this entry

September 24, 2007

GTO

A beautiful Pontiac conveniently parked aross the street from my parents' house yesterday afternoon.

Posted on September 24, 2007 11:03 AM | link to this entry

September 23, 2007

gray window

Posted on September 23, 2007 6:49 PM | link to this entry

Monarch

Taken in my father's garden, upstate New York.

Posted on September 23, 2007 11:55 AM | link to this entry

September 20, 2007

Afternoon with a Hudson.

I have a client inside the beltway who I have to visit from time to time. On the way there, I've spied a beautiful green touring car of 20's vintage sitting in a nondescript gas station parking lot through sun, rain, and snow. On my way back from a meeting, I finally stopped to shoot some viewfinder pics of the car, and found it to be a Hudson sedan in reasonably good shape. At this point in time, I'm stopping to shoot every interesting car over 30 years old because of the ravages of Eastern winters on pre-undercoated and galvanized bodywork. This particular car looks like it was treated to a comprehensive overhaul sometime in the last ten years, and then left to its own fate outside in the elements. A grand car like this deserves to be stored in a climate-controlled garage, and then packed each weekend with suitcases, a picnic lunch, and a family, and then driven to scenic destinations—in other words, loved and used. It pains me to see rust bubbles on the sills of the running boards and spiderweb cracks in the chrome on a survivor as proud and dignified as this, because I'd hate to see it deteriorate past the point of restoration.

From Detroit Michigan, U.S.A. And don't you forget it.

Even the accessories on this car have class. I could remove this from the car and use it for a high-class doorknob on the front of my house.

I love the green of the car contrasted with the red license plate.

This is a wee little running light right below the base of the windshield, about the size of a baby's fist.

There's only one brake light, high on the left side, about the size of a baseball. Don't tailgate!

Again, almost the full address is printed on the hub. That's pride.

Posted on September 20, 2007 2:50 PM | link to this entry

September 17, 2007

Sunday afternoon

This sunday we prevailed upon Jen's sister and her boyfriend to help us with a little outdoor project. I've been wanting to get our woodpile up off the ground and split ever since we felled the tree, and we finally rented a hydraulic splitter to take care of it all this weekend.

The first thing we needed was a new cradle to store it in, so I built one out of pressure-treated lumber.

Meanwhile, Jen disassembled the old pile and got it ready for splitting.

With four people, we made pretty short work of the job. All the huge stump-sized hulks are now fireplace-sized bits, we have a full stack stored six inches off the ground, another pile stored under the porch, and we gave some to our neighbor as a show of goodwill. Addendum: According to this site, a cord of wood is 8' x 4' x 4', or 128 cubic feet. The cradle I built is 12' x 4' x 2', or about 96 cubic feet. Adding the pile under the porch, I'd say we split a cord of wood yesterday.

Of course, it's hard to get manual labor without some kind of bribe, and in this case it was beer and a homemade dinner of brisket, fresh corn, mashed potatoes, cornbread, and stuffed jalapeno peppers from our garden, in front of a roaring fire. MMMM, home cooking and woodsmoke.

Posted on September 17, 2007 12:31 PM | link to this entry

September 16, 2007

Skills Every Man Should Know.

Popular Mechanics recently published a list of 25 things that every man should know how to do, and this made me think back to a conversation I had with Jen about her skydiving experience and things we'd like to do before we die. She asked me what was on my list, and I could only think of a few things in the moment, which kind of disturbed me. I know I've got a bunch of things I still want to learn to do and experience, and I've crossed a couple off the last couple of years, but I haven't edited The List in a long time. So I'm going to come up with the 2007 version this week and post it here.

In the meantime, I reviewed the Popular Mechanics list and noted what I've done and what I've not done, for your enjoyment:

1. Patch a radiator hose
I did this in the Scout with a couple of spare hose clamps and some duct tape until I could limp to a Wal-Mart and get a fixit kit. That was a white-knuckle ride home, lemme tell you (the spare was in my basement).

2. Protect your computer
Um, duh.

3. Rescue a boater who has capsized
If righting an overturned canoe counts here, I've had plenty of experience. If we're talking about a big cabin cruiser, I'm throwing 'em a life jacket and calling the Coast Guard.

4. Frame a wall
Done it, several times, over wood and concrete. Concrete is a pain in the ass.

5. Retouch digital photos
Are you kidding?

6. Back up a trailer
I actually did this today in the Jeep. I've also done it in a Ford F350 stakebody with no rear visibility on a county highway. Big fun.

7. Build a campfire
Come on. I smelled like woodsmoke every day from the ages of 11 to 16.

8. Fix a dead outlet
Heh, I got a whole house to show you. I also have the remains of a circa 1935 two-prong bakelite outlet which crumbled in my hands as I pulled it from the wall.

9. Navigate with a map and compass
This one is on my list. I have an idea of how it works, but I'd like to get educated.

10. Use a torque wrench
Another one on my list. I know how it works and what the theory is, but I've never used one myself.

11. Sharpen a knife
I've done this poorly several times, but I know how it's supposed to work. I'm assuming one needs to practice.

12. Perform CPR
I want to take a class in this. Never done it.

13. Fillet a fish
No, I've never fileted a fish. I'd like to learn how.

14. Maneuver a car out of a skid
I can both bust the rear tires loose and get them back under me again.

15. Get a car unstuck
Which do you prefer, snow, mud or sand? I've dug out more cars from the snow than I care to remember, and unslogged the Scout from both muddy fields and Assateague sand. Given the choice, I prefer snow.

16. Back up data
Do it every week. Don't you?

17. Paint a room
If I had a nickel for every room I've painted, I could put myself through grad school.

18. Mix concrete
Done this a bit; I even got my future wife to mix it with me, bless her heart.

19. Clean a bolt-action rifle
I don't know how to do this, but I very much want to learn. Also a revolver and an automatic.

20. Change oil and filter
Yep. A VW bus, Nissan Sentra, Mazda pickup, Honda CRX, the Scout, and the Tortoise. I've never changed the Jeep's oil, though.

21. Hook up an HDTV
*sniff* I don't own one, but I'd like to practice.

22. Bleed brakes
I did this once, reading from a shop manual, and was very nervous about it. But I'm still alive, and the car stopped when I told it to.

23. Paddle a canoe
Yep, I've done this quite a bit too, and sunk them as well (see above). I'd like to own my own canoe someday, too.

24. Fix a bike flat
Many flats been changed, both in the woods and in the city.

25. Extend your wireless network
Is this for real? I can think of so many other things that are more important than this. For example:

1. Drive a stickshift. Then learn to double-clutch a stickshift.
2. Cook a steak dinner
3. Disassemble and clean a carburetor
4. Select the proper wine for dinner
5. Handmake an anniversary/birthday card
6. Change a tire (it astounds me how many men I know cannot do this)
7. Plant a garden and grow vegetables
8. Shingle a roof
9. Hang drywall
10. Cut, install and sweat copper piping.
11. Wash and fold laundry (I'm still working on this one)
12. Iron a dress shirt without burning it
13. Hang a door
14. Change a diaper
15. Play a musical instrument
16. Change brake pads
17. Give a foot, back and scalp massage

What have I missed?

Posted on September 16, 2007 11:40 PM | link to this entry | Comments (4)

September 14, 2007

The Smell of Change

There's a certain scent in the air today. It's something I associate with the age of ten or eleven, when I lived in a big house in the Connecticut woods and spent most of my time outside exploring. At the time I had a fascination with hunting, the army, the woods, and survival in the elements, so I built forts and bunkers and tree stands with my buddies, who shared the same interests I did (and who also lived on multi-acre plots of land like us.)

We'd stay out in the woods until the sun got low and filtered through the low-hanging leaves, and the temperature would drop, bringing out a particular earthy fragrance from the forest floor: The rich, loamy smell of leaves, heated and cooled, mixed with rich, moist earth, and a touch of fresh-cut grass, signalling the shortening days and cooler nights of fall just around the corner. It usually meant we were wearing jackets and jeans instead of shorts, school was back in session (so we were ducking schoolwork as long as we could) and we stayed out of the wetlands so we wouldn't freeze as the sun went down.

Around the time dusk fell and we smelled woodsmoke through the trees, which meant that parents were home and settling in for the evening, we'd gather up our gear and say our goodbyes, then scatter our separate ways on well-worn paths through the forest. Days like this make me think of that brief, magical time of my life when afternoons lasted forever, Intellivision was my religion, Duran Duran were the biggest thing on the radio, my three best friends lived within walking distance, and the world was ours to explore.

Posted on September 14, 2007 11:11 AM | link to this entry

September 12, 2007

Galaxie 500

A boxy mid-60's Ford spied at the gas station on rt. 40 yesterday. It was gone this morning.

Posted on September 12, 2007 4:51 PM | link to this entry | Comments (2)

September 10, 2007

Lunchtime

After shooting the Buick on friday, I stopped in at the Forest Diner on rt. 40 for a burger and some photos. The food isn't the best in the land, and I can do without the preponderance of Betty Boop statuary, but I'm a sucker for lunch at a stool in an original Silk City diner car. Plus, the local diner chain™ is parked right next door, and I like to boycott their bland food whenever I can.

Posted on September 10, 2007 11:35 AM | link to this entry

September 7, 2007

Hula Buick

On the way out to Ellicott City, I spied a green '50 or '51 Buick Special by the side of the road with a 'For sale' sign in the window. Along with my recent resolution to get off my ass and write more, I've been trying to be more regular about photography, and again it paid off: I had my camera with me and filled a memory card with pictures.

Posted on September 7, 2007 3:02 PM | link to this entry

Crown Cork & Seal

Yesterday I had the lucky fortune to wander around a Baltimore landmark I've always wondered about but never been inside: The Crown Cork & Seal factory on the city's east side. I was searching for a vendor to drop off a package, and it took me some careful moseying around the property to find them.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a whole lot of time to explore or shoot photos, but certain parts of the sprawling complex have a Children of Men/Full Metal Jacket-type feel to them: ancient brick buildings, soaring courtyards filled with years of debris and trash, along with the odd shopping cart or plastic storage bin.

After being shuttered in 1956 when management moved the company headquarters to Philadelphia, the 15-acre site lay empty (as far as I can tell; information online is sketchy at best) until recently. Now it looks like the property has been split up into separate rentable buildings under the care of a management company.

At some point, I'd love to go back and spend a day shooting everything I saw.

Posted on September 7, 2007 11:18 AM | link to this entry | Comments (1)

September 5, 2007

It's On.

If I am hearing the news correctly, Apple (among other cool things) just lowered the price of the 8GB iPhone to $399. Which means when I get the next big check in for my Orlando trip, I'm going straight to the Apple Store and buying one.

Update: Ok, so let's analyze the backlash here a little bit. Jobs writes a letter and says, in effect, Whoops. Sorry I pissed you off, ~~fanboys~~ early adopters, so here's what we're going to do: I'll give you each $100 back in credit at the Apple Store, and I hope that makes you feel a little better.

Gadget-blogs, whose sole purpose on God's green earth is to salivate over grainy camera-phone pictures of techie shit only available in Japan, are heaping on the abuse, crying foul over this development. "$100 doesn't go a long way in Apple land... Either way, the money's going back to Apple."

Well, guess what, asshats? You stood on line to buy the phone. You had to be the guy with the shiniest toy on the block, the guy who just threw your last latest-and-greatest wonderphone in a shoebox in the closet with the scores of other phones you've had since you got a cell plan. Now you're upset 'cause they dropped the price? Did you scream and cry this loud when your Xbox went on sale or the price on your RAZR dropped $300? Nobody made you buy the iPhone when it was $600—you did that yourself.

I happened to read a fantastic essay buy a guy who was an editor at Gizmodo, then left, then came back, wrote said essay, and got fired for it. (Now he's the gadget editor at Boingboing.) In essence, it says something like this: knock it off. Quit spending your time, money and energy buying every brand-new techie piece of hardware out there to fill the empty void in your lives.

It's pretty sobering reading, because I lust after the unobtainable shiny gadgets as much as the next guy. I want a 42" LCD TV, a TiVo, a PDA, a tablet PC, a robot that does my laundry, my own unmanned surveillance plane, and a supercomputer whirring quietly in my basement.

But I don't have any of that stuff. I have a 15-year-old TV and a three-year old Motorola phone that I can't wait to throw in a lake. I am a fan of Apple, I believe in their products, and I try to be an evangelist without being an annoying fanboy. I'm going to buy an iPhone in a month or two, not because I need to show it off, but because my current phone sucks, I already have an AT&T plan, I use a Mac daily, and I think it would help me do business. If I'd gone out and dropped $600 for the iPhone two months ago, and then found out they were giving me $100 back in credit, I think I'd have to be pretty happy—show me another company who's publicly admitted a mistake and taken immediate action like that in the last year.

Posted on September 5, 2007 2:50 PM | link to this entry

After the Flood.

Last night we finished up our washer comparison shopping at Sears, after temporarily raising the hopes of the floor salesman at Lowes. They all get the same look on their faces when they see us comparing models—it's a predatory look, masked with the "I'm here to answer your questions" smile, and it's a little comical to see how quickly it fades when they realize we're carrying a fistful of Consumer Reports articles with notes scribbled in the margins.

I react pretty poorly to hovering salesmen, I'm sad to say. Jen compares my tone of voice to an old-school running back, where I'm carrying the ball with my arm straight out, aimed directly at the forehead of the oncoming rushers. I'm the type of person who does not care for the hard sell. I don't need the expensive accessories, and I've most likely already made up my mind what I want, just please tell me if you have the stupid thing in stock and in white, mmmkay? Sears, unfortunately, tries to push the extended warranty thing, which is always a comical bit of salesmanship—you're selling me a $700 metal cube and now you're trying to sell me an insurance policy with scare tactics? I understand that appliance margins are tight, but I'm not stupid enough to buy that line of crap. Also, if I say I'm not interested, I'm not interested. Take a hint.

Knowing we're looking at adding to the herd this year, we bought a front-loading washer in preparation for mountains of baby clothes, and I imagine we'll be down there with shovels, constantly feeding it, like coalmen on the Queen Mary. We found a Kenmore model next to lots of little red bubbles in the Consumer Reports chart, and within about three minutes had it set up for delivery on Friday. Which means I need to build a platform for it by tomorrow night (the metal platform sold as an accessory is $199—HA) and clean up the last of the flood debris so that they can haul away the 3-year-old GE unit that crapped out on us.

Posted on September 5, 2007 9:20 AM | link to this entry

September 4, 2007

Jammed Up

The back porch of our house has been smelling like grape Bubblicious for the last week, something that takes me back to grade school and Krauzer's (New Jersey representing!) and chewing three pieces at one time to keep the flavor going. We inherited a grape vine next to the stairs with the purchase of the house, and one of the many dreams we've shared is to be able to do something cool with the grapes. However, in years past we've been robbed of our fruit by bad weather, critter infestation, and bad luck.

This is the first year we've enjoyed a bumper crop of grapes, due in part to the dry weather and also to the netting I purchased early in the season to keep the birds from eating the entire vine clean. Jen did a whole lot of reading online and found several ideas for what we could do with the bounty, settling on an Epicurious recipe for jam that sounded good.

After helping her pick five pounds of grapes off the arbor yesterday, she got to work peeling, cooking, milling and canning, and the result is five jars of grape goodness waiting for a taste test. (We need another 12 hours or so.)