Or is it "Up To What We've Been"?
We went to the Detroit Lions’ practice on Saturday at Ford Field. It was a lot of fun. This is the first time we’d been there, so we took a walk around to see everything. So much better than the old Silverdome. We got a chance to see the different practices for the different positions, and they had some 7-on-7 and 11-on-11 scrimmages. Each of the three quarterbacks (Daunte Culpepper, Matthew Stafford, and Drew Stanton) were there and we got to compare and contrast their play. In practice, they all looked pretty similar, although Stafford, the Lions’ first-round draft pick and Detroit’s newest multi-millionaire, clearly has a great arm – he could throw that ball on a rope. The last play of the scrimmage, and of the entire practice session, was Drew Stanton, former MSU Spartan, throwing a touchdown pass to Carson Butler, a former UM Wolverine. J wondered if that play might have been staged for the fans…
We bought a few hot pretzels and pop, and I was marveling at the prices for everything. I’d like to buy stock in the concession stands at Ford Field – can I do that? Just the concession stands. If I can’t do that, I’d like to have a cut of the beer sales, at $8.50 a cup. Unless you want the gluten-free beer, which is only $7.50. Really.
The schedule has more open practices listed. I was reading this page with the practice schedule and rules and restrictions for visitors to Ford Field, and I noticed that kazoos are not allowed in the stadium. I can understand they don’t want people to bring whistles to the game, because that might interrupt play or confuse the officials or players. But kazoos? I wonder what kazoo-related incident occurred to put it on the list. The NFC East Division Playoffs Terrorist Kazoo Incident of 2006, perhaps.
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M entered the Ann Arbor District Library Lego Contest again this year . He didn’t win any medals (he peaked in 2nd grade, when he won two) but he had a very respectable entry. The quality of the entries has gone up in the last two years, and it is becoming more difficult to stand out. We’ve noticed that the judges are more interested in detail and unique ideas than they are in large or complex projects, which M enjoys making. We’ve tried to convince him to scale it down a bit, but he has his specialty and will not compromise his artistic vision. I’m going to give him a copy of Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead” for his 10th birthday, it’ll be right up his alley.
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M and K are still reading their Harry Potter books after taking a break to do the summer reading program at the AA library. K is on book 6 and hoping to finish it before the movie for that book leaves the theaters. They’ve scaled the violence down recently in the movies, and this one gets a PG rating. I mentioned before that sometimes they start making the movies more violent, giving them PG-13 ratings, and excluding smaller kids from seeing them (or liking them.) Fortunately, this movie is considered more reasonable for kids. He may be able to read the book, but he's still just a seven year-old kid, and he doesn't need to have too much exposure to wizard-related violence.
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At work I was officially moved to a new team. I have been “on loan” to this team for a while, but some organizational changes have moved me over officially. As usual, it means a move to another cubicle, and I’m back in a section of the building I left 15 months ago. I’d make a map of all the places I’ve sat since I’ve worked her, but there is no way I’d be able to remember all of them.
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A few fun links:
1: Some tips on using a hand saw.
2: Do you know what the differential in your car is? If so, do you know how it works? I love the simplicity of the design of the differential, and the excellent explanation in this video. It shows a scale model of a differential, building it little by little until it's working very well. Complex things can usually be explained in complex terms, but explaining a complex thing in simple terms is an art.
Links 'N Stuff
I'll kick off the links with some neat relief wood carving.
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Look at the gorgeous workbench this guy made. Really impressive - beautiful and functional.
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Did I already post this link to more robots? I don't think so.
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Another project I want to do some day. It will have to get in line behind all the other stuff on my list.
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A really nice book about the difference between making something with a machine and making something with hand tools. I'll make another post sometime about my thoughts on this.
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A couple of online discussion forums I have joined. It's fun to browse around. Woodworking and wooden model ship building (the latter frustrates the heck out of me and I swear I'll never do one again, but then I get the catalog from Model Expo and I think "maybe I'll try it again, maybe this time it will work better". I'm such a sucker.)
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Stop by soon for more info and time-wasting links.
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Look at the gorgeous workbench this guy made. Really impressive - beautiful and functional.
-----------------
Did I already post this link to more robots? I don't think so.
-----------------
Another project I want to do some day. It will have to get in line behind all the other stuff on my list.
-----------------
A really nice book about the difference between making something with a machine and making something with hand tools. I'll make another post sometime about my thoughts on this.
-----------------
A couple of online discussion forums I have joined. It's fun to browse around. Woodworking and wooden model ship building (the latter frustrates the heck out of me and I swear I'll never do one again, but then I get the catalog from Model Expo and I think "maybe I'll try it again, maybe this time it will work better". I'm such a sucker.)
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Stop by soon for more info and time-wasting links.
Back in Ann Arbor
(click for a large picture).
This is not my boat, in case you were wondering. And not my car, either.
We're back - four nights and five days in lovely Frankfort, MI. We had pretty good weather - we went to the beach four days in a row. Saturday morning, as we were leaving, the wind was pretty high and the rain was starting, so we cancelled our planned One Last Walk and got on the road a few minutes early.
This year we went up to the Sleeping Bear Dune Climb and, well, climbed. We did some shopping in Frankfort, ate some ice cream, spent a lot of time at the beach, and only got a little bit of sunburn. We spent a lot of time with our family friends The Baroskos, whose rented condo was conveniently (but not coincidentally) next door to ours.
We wanted to hit the alpine slide on our way home like we did last year, but it was closed due to the rain. So we decided to stop in Cadillac at a fun center that had a water slide, mini golf, and go karts. We were going to try a round of mini golf as a make-up for missing the alpine slide, but the whole place was closed to the public since some company had reserved it for the day for their own private use. Bummer.
We had a great trip, although we were always on the go, and the weather was so cooperative that we didn't spend much time reading or relaxing. We can catch up on our reading this week, once we take care of all the "back home" chores.
Briarwood Mall "Security"
For basic maintenance of our cars, we usually go to the Firestone place next to Briarwood Mall. I can drop the car off and walk around the mall or sit under a tree and read a book while I wait.
Last summer, I was waiting for our Saturn to be repaired. I was at the JCPenney end of the mall, and I could see they had lowered the car and were about to drive it out into the parking lot. I decided to wait there and watch. I had been there for about 5 minutes when a mall security truck drove up and stopped in front of me. The security guard got out and asked if everything was OK. I said “Sure”. He said that he had received some calls from concerned shoppers about me, and wondered if I could explain why I was standing there.
The sarcastic, cynical person in me, the one who is tired of all the phony-baloney security rules that have been imposed for no good reason on American citizens since 9/11, wanted to ask him for more details about the switchboards lighting up from “concerned shoppers” and just what exactly they were all concerned about. (“Oh my gosh, there’s this 40 year-old white guy who’s like, average height, with a farmer’s tan and he’s wearing brown shoes and a ten-dollar watch standing outside the mall and he has a book in his hands! I think the book may be about TERRORISM!”)
But I went along with it.
I told him I was waiting for my car to be done at Firestone, and he accepted this as a reasonable explanation, got back in his car, and drove off.
I have some observations and questions about mall “security”:
1) If I were a terrorist and I wanted to strike the women’s underwear department at JCPenney’s, all I would have to do is bring a book and claim to have my car at Firestone? That’s easy.
2) If he truly thought I was a danger to the mall, shouldn’t he have called the police?
3) If people were actually calling him to report problems, wouldn’t I have noticed someone grabbing their cellphone to make that call? If so, who would they have called? The number for mall security, or 911? If the former, where did they get the number, and, if the latter, wouldn’t the real police have shown up?
I'm not so much insulted that the security guy asked me what I was doing there. I imagine they have some guidelines that they have to follow that says people can't just loiter around the mall. Fine. I am insulted that he thought I was too stupid to know he was lying to me about the "phone calls". Does he think I believed him? A middle-aged guy with a book warrants multiple calls to mall security?
No one would have given me a second glance had I been INSIDE the mall, sitting in one of the many chairs, surrounded by stores and a steady stream of shoppers. Where a criminal mind who wanted to make a statement could do some real damage...
Last summer, I was waiting for our Saturn to be repaired. I was at the JCPenney end of the mall, and I could see they had lowered the car and were about to drive it out into the parking lot. I decided to wait there and watch. I had been there for about 5 minutes when a mall security truck drove up and stopped in front of me. The security guard got out and asked if everything was OK. I said “Sure”. He said that he had received some calls from concerned shoppers about me, and wondered if I could explain why I was standing there.
The sarcastic, cynical person in me, the one who is tired of all the phony-baloney security rules that have been imposed for no good reason on American citizens since 9/11, wanted to ask him for more details about the switchboards lighting up from “concerned shoppers” and just what exactly they were all concerned about. (“Oh my gosh, there’s this 40 year-old white guy who’s like, average height, with a farmer’s tan and he’s wearing brown shoes and a ten-dollar watch standing outside the mall and he has a book in his hands! I think the book may be about TERRORISM!”)
But I went along with it.
I told him I was waiting for my car to be done at Firestone, and he accepted this as a reasonable explanation, got back in his car, and drove off.
I have some observations and questions about mall “security”:
1) If I were a terrorist and I wanted to strike the women’s underwear department at JCPenney’s, all I would have to do is bring a book and claim to have my car at Firestone? That’s easy.
2) If he truly thought I was a danger to the mall, shouldn’t he have called the police?
3) If people were actually calling him to report problems, wouldn’t I have noticed someone grabbing their cellphone to make that call? If so, who would they have called? The number for mall security, or 911? If the former, where did they get the number, and, if the latter, wouldn’t the real police have shown up?
I'm not so much insulted that the security guy asked me what I was doing there. I imagine they have some guidelines that they have to follow that says people can't just loiter around the mall. Fine. I am insulted that he thought I was too stupid to know he was lying to me about the "phone calls". Does he think I believed him? A middle-aged guy with a book warrants multiple calls to mall security?
No one would have given me a second glance had I been INSIDE the mall, sitting in one of the many chairs, surrounded by stores and a steady stream of shoppers. Where a criminal mind who wanted to make a statement could do some real damage...
When I was a Young Warthog: Mowing, Yard Work, and other Miscellaneous Jobs
This is Part V in a series. You can see the other parts here: Part 1, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.
I think I was 14 when I went to the high school office to get a work permit. It was a piece of paper that (and I am guessing here) would allow an employer to legally pay me for work, and do so under the minimum wage. Today, the minimum wage only applies to employees 16 and over, and for argument’s sake, I’ll assume it was the same 27 years ago.
The first yard work job I had was for a woman who lived on the edge of Jackson. We knew her from church, and somehow John and I ended up doing work for her. After a while, John wasn’t coming with me, and I did the work alone. Dad would drop me off and pick me up since I was too young to drive. She had a large corner lot on Kibby Rd. and had lots of gardens, sidewalks, bird feeders, and landscaping. She’s the first person I knew who had a compost pile. She taught me how to do everything she needed done: how to weed, how to edge a sidewalk, how to mix compost into the soil, how to clean out gutters, how to paint a basement floor, I did a lot of jobs for her, and she was a good teacher. I cleaned the bird bath and hauled things away and went to the nursery with her to pick up annuals and planted them for her. She lived with her mother, who at the time was in her 90s, and I would come inside when I was done and talk to her for a little while before I left for home. If I was there for a whole day, she’d make me lunch and we’d talk while I ate. I remember her being quite at ease with me even though we were probably 50 years apart. The one thing I don’t think I ever did there was mow her lawn, which is odd considering all the time I spent mowing everyone else’s.
We were 15 years old when a friend of the family who owned some apartments outside Jackson hired us to mow the apartment lawns. We drove our station wagon, which was really more like a small UPS truck with a Buick nameplate, over to their house to get their two lawn mowers and gas cans, then drove to Parma to mow the apartments. When we first started doing it, there were also some apartments in Hanover that we mowed, but he sold them soon after that, so that was one less hour on the road.
Since we were teenagers, we didn’t worry about our hearing or having eye protection (other than sunglasses), and we probably didn’t care if we got sunburn or sore ankles.
Using the Buick to move the lawn mowers back and forth naturally created a problem for us when we wanted to use the car for a date – the whole thing was covered with dust and if the windows were down, it wasn’t unusual for grass to float around inside the car. The fact that part of the body of the car had rusted through in several places didn’t help – it created an extra wind tunnel to catch everything. (The holes in the back were about 20-25 feet behind the driver’s seat, but that didn’t stop the dust from flying.) We learned to take the OTHER car if we went on a date or were going to be seen in public. (Speaking of this car, the irony of this remote job was that the only time I ever got into what could be described as a car accident was backing out of the driveway on our way to mowing the apartments. I left the rear driver’s-side door open, and when I backed up, the door crunched into the house, bending the door and damaging the aluminum siding. The door was never fixed – it closed well enough, and stayed in that state until it was sold a few years later to someone who was going to use it in a demolition derby. True story.)
When we first started mowing the apartment lawns, we were paid a flat hourly rate, maybe $5 an hour. We realized quickly that we would be gone for over 2 hours mowing lawns, and we’d come back with $10 for the effort. We figured that a professional lawn company would probably charge $40-50 for that lawn, and we could make $10 for a half-hour of mowing at a few other houses we were taking care of. We asked Dad to renegotiate, and it was agreed that we would get a minimum of $15 per outing, which was better. Not swimming-pools-movie-stars better, but better.
A few times we went to the apartments to help fix some other things. I remember fixing some folding closet doors and using a spoon to scoop crud out of an old water heater. I also remember getting paid once in quarters collected from the on-site washer and dryer. The owner was proud of himself for thinking to pay me in quarters (“you can use them to play video games!”) but I think he just didn’t want to carry a bag of quarters to the bank. (Note to youngsters: We used to have to leave the house to play video games. They cost a quarter. Quarters are kind of like Chuck E. Cheese tokens.)
I joke about it, but he did give us some opportunities and job experience, and we even babysat for him on occasion. He was a consistent job-provider for us for several years, and helped us find another homeowner who hired me to mow her lawn. This woman didn’t have a lot of money, and several times tried to pay me with cookies. I felt bad saying I couldn’t accept the cookies as payment, but I needed the money. I’m pretty sure it was only $5.
John and I had other jobs besides mowing. We worked for a retired couple, mowing their lawn as well as doing some other jobs. (They paid us $10 to mow, and it was the smallest of the lawns we did. We argued over who got to do the mowing each week.) They wanted to install a shower in the basement, and needed to chisel through the concrete floor to get down to the drain pipes. I remember hacking away at it, taking turns with John. At one point, we had to stick our heads in the hole, laying on our backs, to chisel out some of it. I got claustrophobic upside down with my head in a hole, so John had to take over for a while. They had an indoor pool for the woman, who had some arthritis problems, and I had never known anyone with an indoor pool before that (I still don’t.) They wanted to put some lights up, so we ran Romex wire throughout the large pool room, and John climbed up into the rafters with a box of wire nuts to attach all the wires together. Somehow, he knew what he was doing with the wiring, even though I don’t think he had done it before (that won’t surprise those of you who know him.) Another time we put some steel cables and turnbuckles in the rafters above his garage because he was afraid his garage floor was cracking and shifting, and he wanted to make sure it didn’t take the framing of the garage and house with it. I’m not sure if that was an effective measure to take, but it sounded good to me at the time. I’m sure there are other things we did for them, and they always paid us well, so we were eager to help.
Occasionally, I delivered papers for my friend, Craig, when he was on vacation. I would bike over to his house and do the route. The route was quite spread out if I recall correctly, and it seems like it took a long time. A few times when I had to deliver the Sunday paper, Dad would go out with me and drive so we could get it done quickly. I remember him complaining about why I was required to get the papers to houses so early when OUR paper delivery person took his time on Sundays. I don’t remember what I was paid per day of delivering papers, probably very little, but it made me feel productive. I liked walking around with the papers and I appreciated the fact that I didn’t have to go to everyone’s house collecting money. (Note to youngsters: Back then, paper carriers went door-to-door to collect the money for the papers, they didn’t have online payment and automatic credit card charges. Sometimes they used quarters.)
Being a semi-talented musician when I was younger, there were some opportunities to make a few bucks. I played cello in several pit orchestras, for which I was probably not paid much, and sometimes not at all. I was in a few pretty good pits – we were young but we knew what we were doing. Having a professional church musician in the family, I occasionally played for free or almost free for various churches and temples. (No mosques, but only because there weren’t any in Jackson.) I also played for various school functions, and it was taken for granted that because I was a student at the high school, I was automatically available to play for free for any other school-related event. Nuts to that! I started getting wise to that and gracefully declined those “opportunities” One grumble-worthy episode in my brief life as “Free Help” was a large downtown Jackson church whose services are attended by many hundreds and were broadcast on the radio. There was a big deal of a musical event that I took part in, which involved several practices. I had to play a very difficult solo in the middle of it - it’s a scary and lonely feeling playing a solo in that place– it’s huge, and everyone’s watching you. But I nailed it at both services, because when you hire me for free, you get more than your money’s worth. This was grumble-worthy because the people who put this whole thing together never thanked me, in person, or in a postcard, or any other way. That was the last time I volunteered to play music unless it was something I wanted to do, and for someone I knew would appreciate it.
When I was a little older I played for a wedding and made some money, maybe $100? Mom, my sister, and I played a few songs from “The Lion King” that Mom arranged and maybe one other. There wasn’t a lot of room in the sanctuary (Temple Beth Israel in Jackson), so I was around the side of the seats. About two feet behind me was the video camera that taped the whole service. After the glass had been stepped on and everyone was happy and married, we were playing the bride and groom out when the man operating the camera swung it around and pointed it right at me. I was, naturally, in the middle of the part that I had the most trouble playing, and I think my heart stopped for a few seconds, but my years of training and playing in front of people offset the instant panic, and I persevered, much as the chosen people persevered in the desert for forty years (Completely inappropriate and disproportionate Torah reference. Possibly blasphemous.)
I lost money on this deal, though, because the cost of replacing my old cello strings was about the same amount I was paid. I would have complained to the union but I didn’t belong.
I did some other odd jobs for money before I sold myself out to Corporate America, but it’s hard to remember all of them. The summer after graduating from college (AKA the summer before I got a job) I remember helping my future in-laws move some things from their house in Jackson to Okemos, taking down one of their neighbors’ mailboxes in the process. I bought shoes with the money they gave me – I was broke. That summer I also taught beginning cello lessons to a girl who lived across the street from my parents. I initially felt guilty for charging them money since I had never taught lessons before, but I think I did a pretty good job. I went to Parkside school to talk to the band/orchestra teacher, who handed me a pile of beginner books to use, with the understanding that he’d get them back someday. I don’t know if the girl continued playing cello or not – if she was smart she didn’t, because those things are a pain to haul back and forth to school on the bus.
This wraps up all the paying jobs I’ve had. Actually, there is one more, but the government’s faithful servants at the Witness Protection Program have asked me not to discuss anything that happened on or around Christmas Day, 1987.
I think I was 14 when I went to the high school office to get a work permit. It was a piece of paper that (and I am guessing here) would allow an employer to legally pay me for work, and do so under the minimum wage. Today, the minimum wage only applies to employees 16 and over, and for argument’s sake, I’ll assume it was the same 27 years ago.
The first yard work job I had was for a woman who lived on the edge of Jackson. We knew her from church, and somehow John and I ended up doing work for her. After a while, John wasn’t coming with me, and I did the work alone. Dad would drop me off and pick me up since I was too young to drive. She had a large corner lot on Kibby Rd. and had lots of gardens, sidewalks, bird feeders, and landscaping. She’s the first person I knew who had a compost pile. She taught me how to do everything she needed done: how to weed, how to edge a sidewalk, how to mix compost into the soil, how to clean out gutters, how to paint a basement floor, I did a lot of jobs for her, and she was a good teacher. I cleaned the bird bath and hauled things away and went to the nursery with her to pick up annuals and planted them for her. She lived with her mother, who at the time was in her 90s, and I would come inside when I was done and talk to her for a little while before I left for home. If I was there for a whole day, she’d make me lunch and we’d talk while I ate. I remember her being quite at ease with me even though we were probably 50 years apart. The one thing I don’t think I ever did there was mow her lawn, which is odd considering all the time I spent mowing everyone else’s.
We were 15 years old when a friend of the family who owned some apartments outside Jackson hired us to mow the apartment lawns. We drove our station wagon, which was really more like a small UPS truck with a Buick nameplate, over to their house to get their two lawn mowers and gas cans, then drove to Parma to mow the apartments. When we first started doing it, there were also some apartments in Hanover that we mowed, but he sold them soon after that, so that was one less hour on the road.
Since we were teenagers, we didn’t worry about our hearing or having eye protection (other than sunglasses), and we probably didn’t care if we got sunburn or sore ankles.
Using the Buick to move the lawn mowers back and forth naturally created a problem for us when we wanted to use the car for a date – the whole thing was covered with dust and if the windows were down, it wasn’t unusual for grass to float around inside the car. The fact that part of the body of the car had rusted through in several places didn’t help – it created an extra wind tunnel to catch everything. (The holes in the back were about 20-25 feet behind the driver’s seat, but that didn’t stop the dust from flying.) We learned to take the OTHER car if we went on a date or were going to be seen in public. (Speaking of this car, the irony of this remote job was that the only time I ever got into what could be described as a car accident was backing out of the driveway on our way to mowing the apartments. I left the rear driver’s-side door open, and when I backed up, the door crunched into the house, bending the door and damaging the aluminum siding. The door was never fixed – it closed well enough, and stayed in that state until it was sold a few years later to someone who was going to use it in a demolition derby. True story.)
When we first started mowing the apartment lawns, we were paid a flat hourly rate, maybe $5 an hour. We realized quickly that we would be gone for over 2 hours mowing lawns, and we’d come back with $10 for the effort. We figured that a professional lawn company would probably charge $40-50 for that lawn, and we could make $10 for a half-hour of mowing at a few other houses we were taking care of. We asked Dad to renegotiate, and it was agreed that we would get a minimum of $15 per outing, which was better. Not swimming-pools-movie-stars better, but better.
A few times we went to the apartments to help fix some other things. I remember fixing some folding closet doors and using a spoon to scoop crud out of an old water heater. I also remember getting paid once in quarters collected from the on-site washer and dryer. The owner was proud of himself for thinking to pay me in quarters (“you can use them to play video games!”) but I think he just didn’t want to carry a bag of quarters to the bank. (Note to youngsters: We used to have to leave the house to play video games. They cost a quarter. Quarters are kind of like Chuck E. Cheese tokens.)
I joke about it, but he did give us some opportunities and job experience, and we even babysat for him on occasion. He was a consistent job-provider for us for several years, and helped us find another homeowner who hired me to mow her lawn. This woman didn’t have a lot of money, and several times tried to pay me with cookies. I felt bad saying I couldn’t accept the cookies as payment, but I needed the money. I’m pretty sure it was only $5.
John and I had other jobs besides mowing. We worked for a retired couple, mowing their lawn as well as doing some other jobs. (They paid us $10 to mow, and it was the smallest of the lawns we did. We argued over who got to do the mowing each week.) They wanted to install a shower in the basement, and needed to chisel through the concrete floor to get down to the drain pipes. I remember hacking away at it, taking turns with John. At one point, we had to stick our heads in the hole, laying on our backs, to chisel out some of it. I got claustrophobic upside down with my head in a hole, so John had to take over for a while. They had an indoor pool for the woman, who had some arthritis problems, and I had never known anyone with an indoor pool before that (I still don’t.) They wanted to put some lights up, so we ran Romex wire throughout the large pool room, and John climbed up into the rafters with a box of wire nuts to attach all the wires together. Somehow, he knew what he was doing with the wiring, even though I don’t think he had done it before (that won’t surprise those of you who know him.) Another time we put some steel cables and turnbuckles in the rafters above his garage because he was afraid his garage floor was cracking and shifting, and he wanted to make sure it didn’t take the framing of the garage and house with it. I’m not sure if that was an effective measure to take, but it sounded good to me at the time. I’m sure there are other things we did for them, and they always paid us well, so we were eager to help.
Occasionally, I delivered papers for my friend, Craig, when he was on vacation. I would bike over to his house and do the route. The route was quite spread out if I recall correctly, and it seems like it took a long time. A few times when I had to deliver the Sunday paper, Dad would go out with me and drive so we could get it done quickly. I remember him complaining about why I was required to get the papers to houses so early when OUR paper delivery person took his time on Sundays. I don’t remember what I was paid per day of delivering papers, probably very little, but it made me feel productive. I liked walking around with the papers and I appreciated the fact that I didn’t have to go to everyone’s house collecting money. (Note to youngsters: Back then, paper carriers went door-to-door to collect the money for the papers, they didn’t have online payment and automatic credit card charges. Sometimes they used quarters.)
Being a semi-talented musician when I was younger, there were some opportunities to make a few bucks. I played cello in several pit orchestras, for which I was probably not paid much, and sometimes not at all. I was in a few pretty good pits – we were young but we knew what we were doing. Having a professional church musician in the family, I occasionally played for free or almost free for various churches and temples. (No mosques, but only because there weren’t any in Jackson.) I also played for various school functions, and it was taken for granted that because I was a student at the high school, I was automatically available to play for free for any other school-related event. Nuts to that! I started getting wise to that and gracefully declined those “opportunities” One grumble-worthy episode in my brief life as “Free Help” was a large downtown Jackson church whose services are attended by many hundreds and were broadcast on the radio. There was a big deal of a musical event that I took part in, which involved several practices. I had to play a very difficult solo in the middle of it - it’s a scary and lonely feeling playing a solo in that place– it’s huge, and everyone’s watching you. But I nailed it at both services, because when you hire me for free, you get more than your money’s worth. This was grumble-worthy because the people who put this whole thing together never thanked me, in person, or in a postcard, or any other way. That was the last time I volunteered to play music unless it was something I wanted to do, and for someone I knew would appreciate it.
When I was a little older I played for a wedding and made some money, maybe $100? Mom, my sister, and I played a few songs from “The Lion King” that Mom arranged and maybe one other. There wasn’t a lot of room in the sanctuary (Temple Beth Israel in Jackson), so I was around the side of the seats. About two feet behind me was the video camera that taped the whole service. After the glass had been stepped on and everyone was happy and married, we were playing the bride and groom out when the man operating the camera swung it around and pointed it right at me. I was, naturally, in the middle of the part that I had the most trouble playing, and I think my heart stopped for a few seconds, but my years of training and playing in front of people offset the instant panic, and I persevered, much as the chosen people persevered in the desert for forty years (Completely inappropriate and disproportionate Torah reference. Possibly blasphemous.)
I lost money on this deal, though, because the cost of replacing my old cello strings was about the same amount I was paid. I would have complained to the union but I didn’t belong.
I did some other odd jobs for money before I sold myself out to Corporate America, but it’s hard to remember all of them. The summer after graduating from college (AKA the summer before I got a job) I remember helping my future in-laws move some things from their house in Jackson to Okemos, taking down one of their neighbors’ mailboxes in the process. I bought shoes with the money they gave me – I was broke. That summer I also taught beginning cello lessons to a girl who lived across the street from my parents. I initially felt guilty for charging them money since I had never taught lessons before, but I think I did a pretty good job. I went to Parkside school to talk to the band/orchestra teacher, who handed me a pile of beginner books to use, with the understanding that he’d get them back someday. I don’t know if the girl continued playing cello or not – if she was smart she didn’t, because those things are a pain to haul back and forth to school on the bus.
This wraps up all the paying jobs I’ve had. Actually, there is one more, but the government’s faithful servants at the Witness Protection Program have asked me not to discuss anything that happened on or around Christmas Day, 1987.
Tuesday Wrap-up
Last Friday, we went to the Ann Arbor Art Fairs. It was beautiful weather and we all had a good time. The gyro went down smooth.
One booth of note was that of John Chumack, astronomer, telescope maker, observatory expert, and photographer extraordinaire. Here are a few links to his work and his observatories.
http://www.galacticimages.com/
http://www.galacticimages.com/equipment_scopes.html
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Check out singer/songwriter Brian VanderArk at his website. We have a minor connection to Brian through my brother, John (aka “Boo”) who was working for Brian’s band The Verve Pipe back in their heyday. We met Brian a few times then, and have run into him occasionally when he comes to Ann Arbor for shows. J and the boys met up with Brian, his wife, and their young daughter during Brian’s family’s recent visit to AA for his “Sonic Lunch” performance downtown. We have his latest CD (called “Brian VanderArk”) in the car, and the kids know which songs are the ones they like the best. They call out the numbers of the tracks from the backseat – “Play #2! Then 3 then 6.”
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M’s working on his PT-109 boat and doing a good job. His painting has come a long way. He will paint and assemble as much of this as he possibly can – I’m going to stay more hands-off this time and let him do it. I painted the hull of the U-505 sub we built together so it would look its best, but this model will be as much of M’s work as possible.
I’m working on the USS Arizona model. Unfortunately I made a big mistake with the paint on the hull. I used the enamel paint without thinning it, and I have wavy brush strokes over parts of it. I sanded it a little, but you can’t sand too much or you start to “erase” some of the detail lines. So I have a less-than-optimal hull to begin with. Rats. Maybe I’ll slice the bottom off and put it in a “waterline” display, where you only see the ship above the waterline. I’ll go ahead and blame my local hobby shop for this paint problem. (I’m not really blaming them, but it’s a good introduction to my next paragraph…)
The aforementioned hobby shop, Ryder’s, is phasing out their acrylic (water-based) model paint stock. (Why? Probably something to do with money.) Acrylic paints are FAR easier to brush on than the enamel (oil-based) equivalent, and being able to have a cup of water handy to clean a brush is a big time-saver. The acrylic isn’t as thick as the enamel, either. Having to use paint thinner to clean the enamel paint off of tiny brushes is a pain in the neck. Since Ryder’s is the only hobby shop in town, it looks like I’ll have to find another place to buy the paint. I might even have to buy some online, which I don’t want to do. But I’m not going to start another model without acrylic paints. If the Arizona hull’s paint had been acrylic paint, I wouldn’t have the problems I’m having.
I’m also thinking of how much M is enjoying making models lately – he should be able to do most of the painting himself, including cleanup, and I shouldn’t always need to be around when he’s working on a model. The slow-drying model cement, while not always the best or fastest choice, is usually adequate to use, and he should be able to manage that himself. (The two main types of super glue, liquid and gap-filling, are my first choice 95% of the time, but I’m not letting him loose with those yet.)
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A brutally funny Wondermark comic for the lover of dark humor.
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Happy Tuesday, everyone.
One booth of note was that of John Chumack, astronomer, telescope maker, observatory expert, and photographer extraordinaire. Here are a few links to his work and his observatories.
http://www.galacticimages.com/
http://www.galacticimages.com/equipment_scopes.html
-----
Check out singer/songwriter Brian VanderArk at his website. We have a minor connection to Brian through my brother, John (aka “Boo”) who was working for Brian’s band The Verve Pipe back in their heyday. We met Brian a few times then, and have run into him occasionally when he comes to Ann Arbor for shows. J and the boys met up with Brian, his wife, and their young daughter during Brian’s family’s recent visit to AA for his “Sonic Lunch” performance downtown. We have his latest CD (called “Brian VanderArk”) in the car, and the kids know which songs are the ones they like the best. They call out the numbers of the tracks from the backseat – “Play #2! Then 3 then 6.”
-----
M’s working on his PT-109 boat and doing a good job. His painting has come a long way. He will paint and assemble as much of this as he possibly can – I’m going to stay more hands-off this time and let him do it. I painted the hull of the U-505 sub we built together so it would look its best, but this model will be as much of M’s work as possible.
I’m working on the USS Arizona model. Unfortunately I made a big mistake with the paint on the hull. I used the enamel paint without thinning it, and I have wavy brush strokes over parts of it. I sanded it a little, but you can’t sand too much or you start to “erase” some of the detail lines. So I have a less-than-optimal hull to begin with. Rats. Maybe I’ll slice the bottom off and put it in a “waterline” display, where you only see the ship above the waterline. I’ll go ahead and blame my local hobby shop for this paint problem. (I’m not really blaming them, but it’s a good introduction to my next paragraph…)
The aforementioned hobby shop, Ryder’s, is phasing out their acrylic (water-based) model paint stock. (Why? Probably something to do with money.) Acrylic paints are FAR easier to brush on than the enamel (oil-based) equivalent, and being able to have a cup of water handy to clean a brush is a big time-saver. The acrylic isn’t as thick as the enamel, either. Having to use paint thinner to clean the enamel paint off of tiny brushes is a pain in the neck. Since Ryder’s is the only hobby shop in town, it looks like I’ll have to find another place to buy the paint. I might even have to buy some online, which I don’t want to do. But I’m not going to start another model without acrylic paints. If the Arizona hull’s paint had been acrylic paint, I wouldn’t have the problems I’m having.
I’m also thinking of how much M is enjoying making models lately – he should be able to do most of the painting himself, including cleanup, and I shouldn’t always need to be around when he’s working on a model. The slow-drying model cement, while not always the best or fastest choice, is usually adequate to use, and he should be able to manage that himself. (The two main types of super glue, liquid and gap-filling, are my first choice 95% of the time, but I’m not letting him loose with those yet.)
-----
A brutally funny Wondermark comic for the lover of dark humor.
-----
Happy Tuesday, everyone.
Friday Morning And I'm Not At Work
I'm taking the day off work today...
First: Yes, I made the wands I showed in my previous posting. I was pretty subtle about it, I know. I also made the boxes, the padded inserts, and the labels.
Some links of interest from the past week:
Auction of NASA artifacts. Any of these would be fine for Christmas, birthday, Columbus Day, or any other occasion. If you are a fan of the space program you could easily spend an entire day looking at this auction catalog. Some of the items still have moon dust embedded in them.
Speaking of NASA, 40 years ago, Apollo 11 made a quick visit to the moon. NASA is restoring and cleaning up their video images of the landing in honor of the event. Check Boing Boing's summary for a few examples of the videos.
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10 facts about Detroit
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Continuing my trend of posting links of objects built from other objects, here are some nuts and bolts vehicles.
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Building an F/A-18 Hornet (video). Time-lapse photography of building a Hornet. Makes it look easy.
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Want to work at Sandia National Laboratories, like my neice Ann's boyfriend David? They have something for everyone, from Office Administration Assistant to Post-doctoral appointee working on Large Eddy Simulation of Internal Combustion Engines. If I wasn't so tired of Large Eddy Simulations already, I'd consider applying for that one. Click here to see the list.
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A few more days left for the Ann Arbor Art Fairs. Bring your water bottle, and don't forget to stop at the Greek Orthodox Church's booth to pick up a gyro for lunch. No matter how you pronounce "gyro", it always tastes fair-riffic.
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M's new model project: PT-109
Next model up for me, if I ever get around to it: USS Arizona
The scale of the PT-109 and the USS Arizona are different, so when they're built, the PT-109 will be almost as big as the Arizona.
-----
Have a great weekend!
First: Yes, I made the wands I showed in my previous posting. I was pretty subtle about it, I know. I also made the boxes, the padded inserts, and the labels.
Some links of interest from the past week:
Auction of NASA artifacts. Any of these would be fine for Christmas, birthday, Columbus Day, or any other occasion. If you are a fan of the space program you could easily spend an entire day looking at this auction catalog. Some of the items still have moon dust embedded in them.
Speaking of NASA, 40 years ago, Apollo 11 made a quick visit to the moon. NASA is restoring and cleaning up their video images of the landing in honor of the event. Check Boing Boing's summary for a few examples of the videos.
-----
10 facts about Detroit
-----
Continuing my trend of posting links of objects built from other objects, here are some nuts and bolts vehicles.
-----
Building an F/A-18 Hornet (video). Time-lapse photography of building a Hornet. Makes it look easy.
-----
Want to work at Sandia National Laboratories, like my neice Ann's boyfriend David? They have something for everyone, from Office Administration Assistant to Post-doctoral appointee working on Large Eddy Simulation of Internal Combustion Engines. If I wasn't so tired of Large Eddy Simulations already, I'd consider applying for that one. Click here to see the list.
-----
A few more days left for the Ann Arbor Art Fairs. Bring your water bottle, and don't forget to stop at the Greek Orthodox Church's booth to pick up a gyro for lunch. No matter how you pronounce "gyro", it always tastes fair-riffic.
-----
M's new model project: PT-109
Next model up for me, if I ever get around to it: USS Arizona
The scale of the PT-109 and the USS Arizona are different, so when they're built, the PT-109 will be almost as big as the Arizona.
-----
Have a great weekend!
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