home |
weeks past |
what the fuck are we doing in Phoenix? |
contact us for some reason |
Nerd threat
Thursday, September 16, 2004
If you'll allow me some car nerd leeway here today, I'll explain why today was actually a lot of fun at school. It's the second-to-last day of the phase, and my afternoon class right now is the last of the "hot rod" classes. They factor in some time for students to use the dyno to test out their own personal cars. If you don't know what a dyno is, they're basically those things they put your car on when it's getting emissions tested. The drive wheels sit on some rollers, and you basically drive the fuck out of the car without it going anywhere. As the rollers are turned by your car's wheels, a computer measures the amounts of horsepower and torque the car is exerting on them and the engine RPM at which they're at their maximum. We mainly use the dyno at school to test performance modifications that we make to the cars in various classes... usually it just proves that whatever expensive piece of crap you just bolted on to your car (for instance, those obnoxious mufflers that everyone seems to put on Hondas these days) doesn't do a damn thing for its performance.
Anyway, our class had to pick three cars to dyno. I normally don't drive anymore (I carpool with Dane and a friend of his who drives in the mornings, then ride home with Sean in his car), but today our ride slept in too late, so Dane and I took my car. Since I had it at school, I figured I'd offer it up as an option. People were surprisingly interested in seeing what it would do, and I was more than a little curious as to whether or not it would even hold together. I figured it would put out about 90 horsepower, which I knew would get me made fun of. But whatever, I built the damn thing, and it was hard to resist the opportunity to actually see on paper what it was capable of doing.
The best part was that when it was my turn to go, I was following not only a gigantic '74 Dodge Power Wagon that put down 225 horsepower, but one with a Confederate flag in its back window. He pulls out and in pulls a tiny little BMW that can only be described as "cute" with a John Kerry sticker on the back window. According to Sean there was quite a bit of shit-talking going on as I was setting the car up, both about John Kerry and the car itself. But I got it all set up, ran it up to speed on the dyno, and then floored it at the RPM the dyno instructor and I had agreed on. I've never given this car even half throttle before. There's nothing quite like watching the tachometer hit 6000 rpm on an engine you built yourself. Not because it instills any sort of pride; it's because I couldn't stop thinking, "things I bolted together are traveling at 8 billion miles per hour... this can't be good." But the car survived. At least until I let off the throttle too quickly and popped the throttle cable off its bracket. This forced a somewhat embarrassing quick-fix with zip ties (which can do nearly anything, apparently), and then two more runs. Each time I was sure the engine was going to fly apart. I also discovered that my car has a rev limiter, which must be built into the Volvo brain... it was weird to bounce off a rev limiter in a car built in 1969.
But anyway, the upshot is my car makes 93.55 horsepower and 102 foot-pounds of torque at their respective peaks. This was pretty close to my guess of 90hp, and insanely close to the computer prediction I did on my engine. Most people had figured it'd do between 65 and 80, so it didn't come out looking too bad. And considering how light it is, not too bad at all when it's actually out on the road. Anyway, thanks for indulging me... I'll be back to my normal rantings soon.
And tomorrow (actually extremely early Saturday morning) I leave for New York City!
Stupid electric power
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Damn that light rail! It totally can't match my 1968 Chevelle with a double-pumper carb and Roots supercharger on the dyno! Not nearly enough fossil fuels will be used! And what will our freeways do without as much traffic? They'll feel left out; obsolete. They'll become depressed. Light rail is inhumane.
Photo: Dane, 60mph, 105 degrees F
Time to break out that AK-47
Monday, September 13, 2004
On the TV news tonight they're literally counting down the hours until the assault rifle ban ends at midnight. Wow. I didn't even know this was happening. Insert joke about deer no longer being at a ballistic advantage here.
In a somewhat related story, our neighborhood continues to appear on the Phoenix crime blotter... over the weekend there was a triple murder at a condo about two miles southeast of our place.
Yeah, Phoenix! Yeah!
No good title for this one
Sunday, September 12, 2004
The theme this weekend was Sean interrupting my sleep. Friday night (actually early Saturday morning) I was awakened at 4:15am by Sean and a dude from school named Kenford watching the documentary my dad made on our adult league baseball team 2 summers ago. I had to get up three different times to shut them up... it brought back memories of my days living in a rental house in Portland with our other brother Scott, who would drag 20 odd people home every night at any hour, throw a record on the turntable, and encourage games of darts and bumper pool, all occurring directly beneath my bedroom. Thankfully Sean rarely engages in such behavior. And, to be honest, I was having such a bad night of sleep anyway, it really didn't make much of a difference. But then on Saturday night, Sean came into the room (I sleep in his room on the weekends so he can stay up late and watch movies) so he could use his bathroom. I was partially woken up by the sound of him peeing, and then became vaguely aware of some movement near the bed. The next thing I new Sean had collapsed on top of me, punching me right in the balls. I yelped and Sean immediately jumped back. "Fuck, sorry, dude! I can't believe I forgot where I'd been sleeping!" It kind of sucked for me, but it was pretty funny, I have to admit.
Saturday I worked for the first time in two weeks. It was a weird but oddly fun day, in spite of A) being back at a job I don't particularly like, and B) the fact that it was, of course, Sept. 11th, and it was hard not to keep thinking about where I was three years before. I have three indelible memories from that day:
First, waking up to my brother Scott bursting into my room to tell me what had happened. There's a bit of backstory here. I was living in New York at the time, and Scott had come out to visit a couple of days before. He was still pretty overwhelmed by the city. We'd been out late the night before, and he'd stayed up a bit later than I had after we'd gotten home. He was sleeping on our couch, and apparently had decided to watch a little TV before going to sleep. No one remembers this now, of course, but Sept. 10 was the night that Michael Jordan had announced that he was coming out of retirement to play for the Washington Wizards. Scott learned this upon turning on the TV, and felt that I must know immediately. He burst through my bedroom door, excitedly screaming me awake with "Michael Jordan's coming out of retirement!" or something like that. I snapped awake, slowly processed the information, and was probably sort of underwhelmed, at least in Scott's eyes. Scott went back into the living room and I immediately fell back into a deep sleep. I didn't dream anything that night, and it was one of those sleeps where no time seems to pass between the time you pass out to the time you wake up. Which was, for me, when Scott again burst through my door, again screaming excitedly. Except this time it was "They bombed the World Trade Center!" Because of this I'll always remember wondering, for just a few seconds, "Why would Michael Jordan want to bomb the World Trade Center?"
Second, still being half asleep, groggily staring at the TV without glasses or contacts, trying to understand what was going on. I could see the damage to the North tower and was trying to figure out how it could have happened. It looked like something had exploded inward, which I couldn't comprehend, as I was assuming it had been a bomb planted inside the building. I remember hearing something about airplanes, and thinking that it was amazing that someone could have gotten a fighter plane all the way to New York City without being picked up by Air Force radar. And it seemed like an awful lot of damage to have been caused by a missile of the size they put on fighter jets. This whole time I was watching the North tower, and sort of vaguely wondering what kind of damage had been done to the South tower, which was completely obscured by smoke. Then, suddenly, I realized there was no South tower. And then the North tower fell.
Third, having a terrible time getting cell phone reception and, eventually, getting through to a very good friend at Hampshire who is a native New Yorker. Realizing immediately that my phone call had woken her up. Further realizing that this meant she didn't yet know what was going on. Trying to explain it all, and then hearing her voice as she turned on the TV and began to see what had happened for herself. This was one of the saddest moments of the day for me and one of the things I recall most clearly. I remember thinking, fuck, I should have just let her sleep.
That night Scott and I and my roommates Glenn and Jake finally couldn't stand to sit in front of the TV anymore. We piled into Glenn's Toyota and headed to Brooklyn. All the major roads were closed down, so we had to take a circuitous route through Brooklyn until we got to Brooklyn heights, directly across the East river from the Southern tip of Manhattan. Everyone was out in the streets, wandering around. There was debris from the towers on the ground, some of which was partially burnt papers that must have been someone's files when the day began. We stood on the Brooklyn Promenade and stared across the river at where the towers had been. The fires were still burning and there was smoke draping over Manhattan. I thought I should be crying, but I wasn't. Lots of other people were.
Still, when I think back on that whole week, what I remember being the most difficult emotionally was the period of 4 or 5 days immediately after the 11th. Once it had sort have sunk in to the city what had happened. The air was dirty with debris from the towers, and everyone had headaches from breathing it in. Lots of stuff didn't work... I remember spending the better part of the 12th wandering around Manhattan with Scott, trying to find a functioning ATM so we could get something to eat. I remember ending up at the southwest corner of Central Park and bumping into Jon Lovitz, of all people. He looked just as dazed and directionless as the rest of us. People started putting up those "missing" posters all over the city, searching for people who had obviously been killed in the towers. I remember wondering how many people on the subway with me knew someone who had died. The palpable mood of grief, shock and despair was everywhere. It was frighteningly contrary to my experience with New Yorkers up until that point, and I felt like the city had been stabbed in the heart. I felt guilty about all the bad things I'd ever said about New York. I wished someone would yell at me about my Red Sox hat again.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Here is what Jon Stewart had to say on the Daily Show roughly 3 years ago tomorrow. No one I've seen has expressed their feelings on Sept. 11th in a way that has rung truer to me, or at least to the me that existed in that point and time. It's a little long, will download a realplayer doc to your computer, and it might make you cry. So don't click if you don't want any of these things. But it's worth a watch.
Calling all auto shop owners. Or psychiatrists.
Thurdsay, September 9, 2004
The latest spike in my stress level is caused by, once again, this stupid school that I go to. Today was the day to file the forms necessary to double-phase the next one, and I was told I only have a 1 in 10 chance of getting approved, because so many people are trying to do it these days. Maybe they all finally realized that they live in Phoenix. But anyway, this is a major wrench in my plans (no pun intended) if I do in fact get denied. So I'm turning to other options. Namely, lying.
The only other way I can "graduate" on Nov. 19 (which is when I'd be done if I could/can double the rest of the way out) is to test out of a few of my remaining classes. This sounds like a great option, considering that I could probably have tested out of about 75% of these classes the moment I arrived in Phoenix. However, the catch they work in there is that you not only have to pass the tests, but have to have 2 years of experience in a shop doing the kind of work that that class would have covered, i.e., brakes, electronics, etc. This caveat is obviously built into the policy to make it highly unlikely that anyone ever is able to do this, because hardly anyone with 2 years of actual experience would bother coming here (if you test out of a class, you don't have to pay for it).
So basically, what I need is either a shop owner from either Portland or New York to lie and say I worked there for a year and a half doing brakes and air conditioning or something like that. Failing that, I need a psychiatrist to write me a doctor's note that states that I am bound for insanity if I am required to remain in Phoenix one minute longer than necessary on November 19th, 2004. That would probably work. And really, let's be honest... anyone who knows me probably came to the conclusion that I need a psychiatrist years ago.
Other than that, I am looking forward getting the fuck out of here for a few days in about a week to go to New York. Thanks to almost unbelievably good play lately, the Red Sox have pulled close enough to the Yanks that the games that'll be going on while I'm there should be pretty important. We're not going to go to the actual games, as they're sold out and it'd be too expensive to ebay the tickets. Plus this way we can get a whole shitload of people together instead of only 4 or something. Anyway, I suppose the more important thing about the trip will be my interview at BMW, which, if it goes well enough, could take some of the stress out of all this double-phasing bullshit, because if I know I have a job waiting for me, I don't have to worry about getting done in time to go to the New Jersey STEP location. That'd be nice.
Shortest entry ever.
Monday, September 7, 2004
This is the best picture ever taken of me. Thanks, Dane.
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Free time? What's that?
Sunday, September 6, 2004
The Red Sox are on TV, so I'm going to keep this short tonight. But it was great to have three days off, the first time I've had more than one in a row since Vicky was here in May. What I discovered this weekend is that when you have 3 consecutive days off and no friends visiting from out of town, there's not a whole hell of a lot to do. Pretty much just sat around and rested. Not that I'm complaining. It was very nice.
But the big news is that Sean went up to Portland and had his interview at the BMW dealership where our friend Gabe works. Apparently it went very well. They all but offered him a job when he's done here in late October. So that kicks a lot of ass. Great news, and hopefully I can follow it up with something similar.
Dane and I did a lot of sitting around this weekend. Probably the highlight was driving through the local mall parking lot blasting the theme from "Law & Order" on Sean's car's stereo. Got some weird looks. And I found a great hooded sweatshirt for $12 at Ross dress-for-less after getting my preemptive BMW interview haircut at Supercuts. Also, we finally got to meet Aaron's girlfriend Shakria, who was beginning to take on Vera from "Cheers" characteristics, as we never seemed to be able to be in the same place at the same time. I wrote up a Friendster profile for my parents' dog. But mostly it was just R & R, which worked out fine, other than me somehow straining the left side of my neck in my sleep on Saturday night. It's still sore and prevents me from looking over my left shoulder while I'm driving... I feel like Derek Zoolander. "I can't... turn... left!"
Oh yeah, and tomorrow is Dane's 23rd birthday! If he's up for it, we'll do another quiz. Stay tuned.