Being Contrary is a Good Thing

To those of us that were happy with the election of Obama as our President should also be grateful for his choice of Vice-President. Biden has been vilified for his wordiness, tendency to make gaffs and concern with him going "off script". Yet a New York Times article today alleges (and backs up) the idea that Joe Biden plays an important role in the Obama administration: Contrarian. Read for yourself here.

I truly think this is another good sign of an outstanding leader. A good leader doesn't surround himself with "yes" men who only do his bidding and answer questions with responses he wants to hear. A good leader has to have one (at least one) individual who has the license to say what he thinks and articulate another position. Not just to be contrary, but to have the comfort to know they can speak their mind without retribution and thereby lead the discussion to cover all the facets of possibilities. To live by group think and thereby choose to remain trapped in a bubble is one of the principle failures of the Bush administration. They were incapable of listening. They felt omnipotent. History will show them to be as capable of error as any administration in history. I truly think group think is what lead them to be the worst administration in history.

No administration is perfect and Obama's already has had their share of missteps. Yet it contrasts so well with the previous administration in its willingness to hold and consider other opinions versus making a decision and sticking to it regardless of when data and reality show it to be foolhardy.

In the past eight years those in public and private who questioned the Bush administration decisions were considered unpatriotic by the GOP message machine. And now that same machine is inelegantly wishing for the Obama administration to fail regardless if it takes the same country they live in to a deep point in history economically, politically, or by foreign policy. I defend Rush's right to say he hopes Obama will fail, but I relish the opportunity in the future when I will haunt him with those words. Maybe it will be Bobby Jindahl ridiculing volcano research only to have a volcano erupt in Palin's backyard or other foolishness, saying you want your president to fail and professing to be patriotic and loving your country is damning. It says you only want success for your country when your team is in charge.

Please

Only Fox news finds this important enough to report about. So a foul mouthed comedian called hecklers "dicks". Its not like she used a racial slur. Fox news, serving mildly titillating news to conservatives who don't want to know what dicks Cheney and the Shrub are.

Holy Crap! Slavery Exists!

Here is an editorial from the New York Times.

Who knew? I didn't. Yeah, I knew there was a lively sex trade in Indonesia, but not at this level.

Yuck.

Gosh I Love It When Microshaft Stumbles

An MP3 player with a Y29 hiccup? Say it isn't so, but it's true. Download that update suckers. Or buy and Apple branded item and suffer none of this shit.

Greasy Grimey Golden Gopher Guts

Boo Hoo. The Greasy Grimey Golden Gopher Guts got beat twice in one day. By superior teams. The football team is so pathetic, and they gave their coach a contract extension for this? Sheesh, they have obviously not watched the movie The Music Man. They need a real coach, not one that just talks like one. They rate only one step below the idiots at Notre Dame on this score.

Now the basketball team has a fine coach in my opinion. So they got beat by Tom Izzo and his MSU rabble. Tom's also a great coach and has a crew of vets that took it to the GGGGGs. Yeah, they beat Louisville? So what. Let's see how they do in March. I do honestly wish them good luck.

That is as opposed to the Yankees of college hockey, also known as the GGGGGs. I wish them losses in every game they play.

Happy New Year!

And a huge thanks to Tom the Dancing Bug. I mean really. I could never think something like this up by myself. So cool.

...because he's a DICKHEAD

The man should be colored "clueless." There should be a color crayon in the Crayola box that is as close as they can get to his "undisclosed location - seconds away from his next heart attack" pasty colored skin and label it "Cheney Clueless." I'd buy a box.

What set me off? This.

This is a despicable man, who has set back the executive branch 100 years. Who's been the most foul mouthed executive in recorded history. Who's hated the world around. There is not one thing he's known for that is the least bit positive. He should have been impeached and I wish someone had the guts to charge and get a conviction for war crimes against him. Rotting in a cell like Gitmo is only too good a finale as he deserves.

Clean Coal My Ass

Okay, you might not know it, but I'm a Chemical Engineer by degree. So this is something I'm trained to understand.

There is no such thing as "Clean Coal." Its a myth. A plan. A hope. A dream is probably most accurate.

Need evidence other than the ramblings of a geek? Try this. If burning coal was reasonably clean to begin with, would Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) have millions of gallons of sludge left over after a coal burning plant was through burning the coal? Sludge that will contain trace amounts of lead, arsenic, magnesium and other items that can be leached into the water.

So, put clean coal right up there with "Clean" nuclear energy. Sure it's clean if you only look at a subset of the whole picture. And don't look at the entire scope where the residue left over is as bad or worse than other energy production methods.

And hey, won't it be nice to have a President that can pronounce "Nuclear" correctly? Yeah, I know that both pronunciations are now considered correct, but, I'm sorry, I'm old school. Saying it the Shrubbery way just makes you sound like an idiot.

How the rest of the country view US

See that failure with a Captain Kangaroo mustache John Bolton hear what the rest of the world thinks of his administration and the US. From a program on the BBC.

Good grief, what kind of idiot

In case you're still on the fence and actually considering voting for McCain, who loves to talk the talk of a maverick and then vote with the party in power,  check this out.

Most Disgusting House, Ever

In case you've not seen it already, may I present the photos from the most disgusting house ever.

It's in Texsucks of course. Its amazing that they didn't even have like 500 cats or anything. Should have bought stock in tobacco companies though. That and Whataburger.

Okay, lets get real. These people have some serious mental problems and I sincerely hope they get some help.

Considering they live in the state that first elected George "the Shrub" Bush, I'm guessing they won't. But them there oil companies are sure making one hell of a profit, now ain't they?

Call Yer Ma!

Hey! I'd call mine, if she weren't underground.

No Respect

In the city that never sleeps there is proof. Automobiles don't respect cyclists in America. NYC has been putting in bike lanes on specific thoroughfares and it is routine for taxis, delivery vehicles, and anyone else that thinks they are more important to use them as a personal parking zone.

Arrogant bastards. I hope fuel goes to $16 a gallon in the very near future. So many car owners suck it isn't funny. Its the one thing that keeps me from riding more. You crazy well insulated assholes scare the beejebers out of me.

Don't just believe me, its in the NYT. Sorry you'll have to register to read. Its the NYT, you should register and read it.

Or not. Be ignorant, I don't really care. Just don't hit me when I'm cycling on the road.

The Elephant Takes One For The Team

The photo below is of a bolt. A three and 3/4 inch long bolt to be exact. It was sticking out of the passenger side rear tire of the elephant on Friday. I could hear it thumping when I left in the morning, but had an appointment I couldn't miss. I was a little early, so I picked a parking spot away from everyone. I checked the tires thoroughly and then pushed the Elephant a few inches forward and looked again. I found it easily because it was shiny from rubbing the pavement. It tried to move it and knew I had a leak when I moved it a little. It was raining, so I knew the tire was leaking as the water was bubbling around the edges of the bolt head. Rats. I considered going to see Thing 1 and getting it fixed right then, but went to work instead.

On the way home after work I put air in the tire as it was rather low. When I got home it was raining harder. I took the injured tire off and I put the little dinky spare on. Driving with the spare in the rain was no fun. Cornering was weird and uncomfortable. I had to drive it to take the tire to a tire repair shop. They didn't have time to fix it last night.

They tried to fix it this morning and the plug wouldn't hold. The bolt had gone in at a severe angle and had ruined the tire. It took them awhile to locate something used of the same size from another shop. Kiss that $50 goodbye.

A Different Kind of Monkey

Yesterday in Japan, history was made in the sports world.

Danica Patrick won an Indy car race in Montegi, Japan.

What's the big deal? She is the first woman to ever win an Indy car race.

EVER.

In fact it was just 1977 (when I graduated from high school) that a woman was permitted to race an Indy car along side men. You know the drill. They aren't strong enough, they don't have the endurance, they don't have the body strength, they aren't emotionally stable, they can't endure the heat of the open cockpit vehicle. Well that monkey's off her back. Blah, blah, and blah.

And bullshit.

At just 26, Danica has set a mark that will go down as an achievement for all people. Given a fair opportunity, anyone, can be capable of anything.

In this case by better fuel management, Danica passed in the last few laps the race winning racer Helio Castroneves. Even he said after the finish, "She beat me fair and square. She managed her fuel better, and passed me. I simply didn't have the fuel to compete even though I wanted to."

So what's the big deal CC? Lets start with I have a daughter and I want her to get every opportunity she deserves. Next I've known brilliant and capable women since I was in high school that were better at something than me. To see a woman win at a sport dominated by "good old rednecks from the south" is just the type of "finger in your eye" type of situation I enjoy. Its not just the underdog winning, but its the person that the rest of the tribe of racers conspire against to prevent winning. Between Danica Patrick and Shirley Maldowney (the first woman licensed and went on to win in the male dominated sport of NHRA drag racing, shame on you for not knowing) will go down as the firsts of the sports. Someday some young woman will climb a podium or accept a trophy and point out that when she was a little girl she saw Danica win for the first time and realized she was capable of anything. ANYTHING. Now that's a legacy.

Boobs in the News

See yah later Frank.

Frank Thomas was nicknamed the "Big Hurt" while at the Chicago White Sox. Indeed he had that ability and was feared among pitchers everywhere. Yet the biggest hurt he put, was on himself. He was never a team player, and was never well liked any where he went. When the dirty Sox won the series, FT wasn't on the bench due to an injury. I recall he was not awarded a full share of the series win due to his behavior. Winning teams are generous, but they will spite someone that has been a thorn their entire career and FT was a huge thorn. To everyone, trainers, managers, teammates, and owners alike.

Maybe you and Barry Bonds can start your own team of whiners and complainers? Think you'll win anything?

Nah, I didn't think so either.

Some nut

At a recent breakfast at Al's in Dinkytown, the Knights of the Al's table were surprised by some knucklehead documenting the event with a camera. Damn Yoopers, you can take them out, but you can't stop them from embarrassing you.

Charelton Heston

Good riddance. You were possibly the most wooden actor to ever win an Oscar. Soylent Green is people! Yawn. The only movie where he was worth a hoot is Touch of Evil. Its made by Orson Welles and Chucky plays a man put into a tough position like a good Hitchcock movie. Shot in 1958 (I think) its in glorious black and white which I think makes it better. Then again, I loved seeing Chuck getting spun around a few times by fate.

You know, I think there are lots of guns where Chuck went. Only I'm guessing they are all pointed at him so he gets to feel what the other end feels like.

Amperage Up! or How I spent 02/28/2008

The VibroChamp I've been playing through was borrowed. Its an old amplifier and I probably can't do any damage to it, but it's still borrowed. So, I've been studying CraigsList and Harmony Central and the Music Electronics Forum to learn about cool versus not so cool amps. Once you get past the kids posting how "Crate Rulz" and "Peavey sucks!" and figure who you can learn from its pretty straightforward. Basically I fall into the tube amp crowd wanting that warm sound without a need for 8799 modulated colorations to my crummy strumming and picking. I did kind of want something a little bigger than the VibroChamp.

Why? I dunno. Ego? "My amps bigger than yours?" Needing to make up for other undervalued areas of my being? You pay for the therapy and I'll go.

So, I didn't want something gigantic. No Marshall stacks. No Bandmaster head and 4 by 12 bottom. Just a combo with a 10 or 12 inch seemed fine. I'd stop by GC and play a few. Fender Deluxe, a Fender Blues Jr. Reissue, a Fender Blues Deluxe Reissue, even a used Peavey Delta Blues, okay, maybe a old Champ or VibroChamp if it were vintage and not solid state like this.

What I did come across is an advert for a '90s vintage Blues Deluxe. Not a reissue. Several times there were folks claiming they were crap. After I'd become really interested I discovered there were non of the reissues in the country to try. There was one in the GC in Roseville, but it was sold. I really liked the tweed vintage look and it didn't have a lot of extras to fool around with. So I called the guy. He was busy at work, and didn't get to call back.

Eventually Thursday night he says tonights the night. That was the night of snow and crud all over the roads and freezing rain and junk. I live far north of town. He lives far south of town. Crap. I got cash out of the bank, went home and got Earl. It seemed like he was never going to call back and I started to think he wasn't going to.

We he finally did call back with directions I drove down to see it. It looked horrible. Dirty, filthy, grungy and well, a cyclist would refer to it as a healthy "patina." Including this stupid microphone stand bolted to the top. Yet it sounded good. He said the line one sometimes gets cranky, but line two always worked fine. As we were testing it out, the power went out. No joke. Now what? He found the circuit breaker and none were tripped. Um, what? Finally after looking next door and stuff it was obvious. The block was out of power. I should have played it more, but instead we stood at his kitchen table counting out cash by cell phone light.

The trip down was a calamity as well. I knew the windshield wiper blades on the elephant were failing, but I didn't bother to change them. I had already bought new ones and they sat on the credenza in the living room. Stupid move buttnick. By half way there I was down to a two inch section of blade still attached and the rest of the blade rubber flopping around like loose shoe laces. So every few miles I'd end up stopping and using the scraper to gain a decent amount of visibility. Good thing Thing 3 didn't come for that ride and realize what a procrastinating dingbat his father was. On the way back I kept thinking, "Yeah, crash on the ride home, roll the elephant, and demolish the fantastic deal you just go, mo-ron." I drove slower and carefully and made it home.

He then asked for something odd. A photo of me holding the bills. It seems he'd been given a counterfeit $20 once. Later in the week spent it at the bar while bowling and spent the night in jail. He made it sound like a very unpleasant experience. I didn't really understand what me in the photo would do, but then again, I wasn't passing counterfeit bills.

Since then I've got it home and it sounds great. Capable of volumes my home can't really handle. Certainly Sparky can't. When I start flipping switches on it an putting Earl's strap on, he runs. Not walks. Some times he comes and peaks in the office door, but he really dislikes the thing. Me? I'm loving it. I took it apart and found that the amplifier electronics are very clean and unmucked with. The tubes might be old and about to fail at any moment. The driver is original and an Eminence product which is supposed to be a good thing. I didn't get a foot switch and for what people want for a vintage one, well, I'll have to learn how to make my own. I was able to figure out the date code which is July 1995 which means its an honest to Leo Fender made in USA product. The original year 1993 models are supposed to have all kinds of circuit board and other issues, so that was a good sign too. I plan to get a cover to keep dust off and am researching how to clean it. So far the best advice is to go at the Tweed with a soft brush, warm water, and a little Dawn dish washing liquid. A small area at a time, and let it dry before moving on to the next so that the cabinet doesn't warp. Color me thrilled.

Good Things for February 18, 2008

Thing 3 had Monday off so we spent a bit of it testing out stomp boxes or pedals for use with guitars and amps. I actually hauled Earl along with the amp I have borrowed to test it out. Got lots of great help from a guy at Guitar Center and bought this. It sounds as good as it did in the store. Having a blast playing Earl through it to the venerable Fender Champ. See the photo below for Sparky's feared look that I might just turn the dang thing on again. Every time I flip the power switch on the Champ, even at the low volume I play at (cause I suck , word), he skeedaddles for another room. At loud volumes he begins to howl in a call and response manner. Chord. Beagle bray. Chord. Beagle bray. Repeat.
Ever heard a beagle howl? I thought you have. Not exactly what you want for accompaniment. Oh well, he hasn't stopped me from playing. Yet.