Friends,
Here’s John De Lancie performing The Raven. I would suggest that you keep the lights turned all the way up if you’re a big scaredy cat like myself.
– bob
P.S. Better than James Earl Jones in The Simpsons? Comments are welcome.
Slow Warmup
Friends,
The teensy, tiny racecar has been throwing codes. This has been a fairly common occurrence, and not unexpected in an eleven year old car, but why?
I mentioned the code to the guy working on the Jeep Grand Livingroom after he was done with its transmission yesterday, and the guy had a great story to share. He asked, “is it a slow catalyst code?” He nailed it. I’m getting codes P0420 and P0421 at different times, “P0421 – slow catalyst warmup” in the current incarnation, and he shared a story.
“You know the ethanol they put in gas now? What is it, 10 percent? Well, it keeps the exhaust too cool and the cat won’t warm up on time for the computer and it’s making codes pop up.” What? This is completely reasonable, I guess, although wouldn’t additional oxygenates make the mixture too lean and run too hot? Ahhh, the computer is screwing with stuff…
“So yeah, the car companies are pissed because codes are tripping on cars that are too new and the warranty work is killing them. I heard that GM is suing those guys, whoever they are in California, who set the gas rules.”
I’ll take this opportunity to point out that those guys are the much-hated and unelected California Air Resources Board, but we’ll get further into that in the Proposition 23 discussion in this week’s election guide. Come back for that, won’t you? Back to our story…
“The only thing you can do, once the ethanol kills your cat is to change it out. You have a Mazda? That’s gonna be at least four hundred. The Asians are really high, unless you get one that’s built here. Except that they outlawed aftermarket converters, so the prices have gone up and up…”
My recourse, that I mentioned to him, is to change the oxygen sensors first. Once I find out that this fix doesn’t work, then we’ll see. Maybe I’ll just keep clearing the codes.
Neat!
– bob
Things To Know And Share
Friends,
First of all, you should know that bobtherieau.com is having problems, so pictures (including, sadly, our gal the Idyllwild Weather Clam) may not show up properly for a while. I also can’t post new pictures, so the picture above of the late, great Paul the Psychic Octopus is here under the GNU Free Documentation License.On the subject of Paul, he was the cephalopod who predicted outcomes throughout this year’s World Cup in South Africa. Genius!
We’re also mourning, here at Jaunty Central, the passing of Alexander Anderson, Jr. who with Jay Ward, developed Rocket J. Squirrel and his dim pal Bullwinkle J. Moose. Our thoughts are with Mister Anderson’s family today.
Your pal,
– bob
Hard To Know
Friends,
I was tipped to the story by the good folks at Metafilter that retired Air Force officer Stan Fulham has written a book predicting that a fleet of alien spaceships will be breezing by Earth today as some sort of first contact. The 13th? Really Stanley? You clearly didn’t consider the dimensional rift that cuts through my little town right in the middle of the parking lot outside the Village Market. Yesterday.
They’re here.
– bob
Extreme! Baby! Carrots!
Friends,
I heard the story on yesterday’s Marketplace about the Mason, Ohio school district placing vending machines in their high schools offering only baby carrots. The candy machines are disabled during the school day and the students are presented with vegetables as snacks. Weird! (no flaming hot baby carrots? -ed Not that I’m aware of, but there’s a marketing opportunity for you. Get on it!)
This war on childhood obesity is getting traction, I guess, but this is actually entertaining. The “bunch of carrot farmers” have a campaign that I find funny and self-aware. It’s not even living in the same universe as Nancy Reagan doing a cameo on Diff’rent Strokes to warn the kids off of drugs in that it might actually work. Genius.
BTW, baby carrots are delicious.
– bob
This Seems Like Kind Of A Big Deal
Friends,
So, the new vapor recovery gas nozzles mandated by the secret super children at the California Air Resources Board have a problem with their handle latches not working properly. No big deal, right? We’ll just use another vendor.
The problem is, there is no other vendor and the non-releasing latches have stuck open and have caused people to douse themselves with gasoline. Luckily, the state fire marshal has leapt into action and mandated that the latches be removed, causing gas station owners to howl that their patrons will find another way to not hold the handle while gas is pumped.
This is all very funny and tragic and emblematic of the shortsightedness of unelected bureaucrats, but it also gets to my point that if the petrol-fueled internal combustion engined automobile was only proposed today, regulators would have none of it. “It’s too dangerous! You would allow ordinary people to drive around with a tank full of explosive hydrocarbons wherever they want? To drive near schools! What if a terrorist should get a hold of one of these mobility machines!”
The best way to fix this, of course, is to go back to the old and perfectly fine vapor recovery nozzles. You know, the ones that we’ve been using for a couple years now. Oh, and put all of the CARB board members in stocks in the public square. So they’ll be safely away from the petrol spray. Because we care.
– bob
11 September 2001
Never forget.
A Road More Dangerous Than The Most Dangerous Road
Friends,
The roadworks happening right now on the Palms To Pines Highway are extensive and have involved a lot of stoppages during the warmest part of the day. I find that I’m annoyed sitting in traffic (surprise!) so I’ve diverted to taking what is colloquially termed The Banning Road—a poorly considered and haphazardly engineered pile of twists and turns that had inspired my most famous car crash. It’s no wonder that there are so many bits of motorcycles littering the roadside along the way.
Yes, with a new set of shoes (from your mom’s hyundai. -ed My Mom wouldn’t have a Hyundai, but these new tires sure were cheap…) I’ve started carrying a little more speed in those off-camber turns. This is a big mistake. The radii tighten mid-turn as a rule rather than an exception. Oh, and there’s no end of gravel, larger rocks and other debris right at the apex of many of the hairier corners. The steering goes light, the rear starts with a little howl, then starts to snap. Don’t brake here, because a spin is coming. Normally, if the road surface were clean, a little more throttle would induce a bit of oversteer and I could power right out. No drama. What’s happening instead is the summertime version of curling. Without the brooms.
I could really use a broom.
– bob
Silky, Smooth and Sporty
Friends,
Once again, the internet provides. Here’s a dealer video from 1973 extolling the genius of the Jeep Commando. Is it brilliant? Yes! Are there many drivetrain combinations? Of course! Stylish? Rugged? Amazing ground clearance? You bet!
You could be led to think that you’re a dope for not buying one. What a pity.
Sorry.
– bob
Unlucky
Friends,
I hate to admit when my brother Stinko is right, but he had some alarmist things to say yesterday about the lack of tread on the back tires of the Teensy Tiny Racecar. Something about no traction, something, something, crashing-something, do you have a spare? That sort of thing.
Naturally, I was having none of this talk considering that I had A Grand Plan to replace those tires [hint: in involves the next paycheck] and told him that I thought the baldness of the tires actually enhanced traction. You know, like racing slicks!
Um, the minute they change the rules in drag racing to allow gravel on the strip and throw in a couple hairpin turns, I’ll let you know. In the meanwhile, the racing slick on a street car myth was officially busted during my drive home yesterday. That, and some of the plastic bits on the front of my car.
Your pal,
– bob
Lucky
Friends,
Some societies consider visitation by giant beetles to be a good omen (which ones? -ed Just go with me on this.). Sure, it was odd to find this minor monster hanging off the screen door a couple days ago… 
…but maybe it was a sign. After all, the family was scheduled to stop by my place the next weekend. I wasn’t sure if I’d have time to prep the house, fix the broken toilet, clean up the leftover bits of dog. What I needed was another sign. Something that might, I don’t know, convince me that this wouldn’t be a complete disaster. 
Right! All that was left was for the kiddos to arrive… 
…and maybe line up on the staircase for a picture… 
…or even collapse the swing together… 
Even through my barbequed berry pancakes, minor meltdowns and a whole lot of mosquito bites, we even managed to get together for a great big family photo. 
Totally worth it.
I’m pretty lucky, don’t you think?
– bob
Well That’s Just Dandy
Friends,
If I understand this article in the New Scientist (and that’s not assured by any means), Nikodem Poplawski of Indiana University has suggested that not only could every black hole contain a universe, but that our very own universe might reside in a black hole. and since our universe contains black holes, those black holes would also contain universes, etc. ad absurdum
This explains some weirdness that happens with neutrinos, says Nik (can I call you Nik?), including a “preferred direction”—a spin imparted on particles, if you will—caused by entering the black hole to begin with. Kind of a curveball, if I’m reading it correctly.
The really messed up part of this is that if it’s true, the event not only put a topspin on space but also on time. Could this really be why the seconds hand on the clocks at the DMV move more slowly than they do while you’re dangling your feet in a creek on a warm summer’s day? Is the Minnesota Fats of the universe banking the dreary moments of your days off the left bumper of time to sink the joyous moments down into the right corner pocket? Could this analogy be even more tortured? (not really. -ed) What would Nik think?
Can I call you Nik?
– bob
The 25th Anniversary of Amiga
Friends,
On this day in 1985, the Commodore Amiga 1000 was first introduced to the public (although some say it was actually on the 24th, who are we to pick nits?). As personal computers go, it represented simultaneously a stunning a achievement with its multitasking operating system and custom chips while also being pretty low rent with its whopping 64 kilobytes of RAM.
I had a long and mostly happy time with my Amiga 1200, incompatibilities and slow development from Commodore and later the subsequent flaky owners of the brand aside. I even convinced my friend to purchase an Amiga 2000 for some R&D work many moons ago. With the custom chips Denise, Agnes and Paula serving up sweet for the time video, seeming unlimited memory, and eight bit audio; there was nothing these machines couldn’t do.
Except connect to cheap PC hard drives, or this world wide web thing. Or send decent output to a laser printer.
Thankfully, there are still weirdos out there selling parts and software for the old girl. There are even folks willing to, for nostalgia’s sake, invest a little time to open up the case to peek inside.
I still have my old 1200 stored in a place of prominence in a milk crate in the garage. It’s a great idea, of course, because you never know when the hackers will bring down your internets and your shiny multi-core ordenadors. Maybe we’ll fire up the Amigas and our 14.4k modems to get it all put back together again. And we’ll call our new service Delphi…
– bob
A Quick Question In Which I Ask About Emergency Communications
Friends,
There’s a nifty article at physorg.com about turning existing mobile phones into their own network during emergencies when the local infrastructure has gone down. Apparently, it can be as simple as turning on the WiFi radios in smartphones and allowing them to find each other to set up an ad hoc network automatically. These guys would definitely be interested in something like that, but it remains to be seen if these guys would.
Would you be up for installing a bit of software on your phone (even if you had to pay for it) to enable it to be a node in an emergency communications network? How much would you be willing to pay? A buck? Five?
– bob
What Will You Do When The Ducks Come?
Friends,
While in San Francisco, we thought it’d be fun to Ride The Ducks™.
This may have been a foolhardy mistake, had we been in Philadelphia. First, I’m profoundly sad that there were holiday makers like us who were lost on what was supposed to be a fun outing. Second, who knew it was a chain? Third, I’m now afraid of amphibious vehicles. I know this isn’t a common fear and there’s clearly no Latin equivalent but it’ll surely be quickly coined. I won’t suggest ridetheducksaphobia, but it’s as good as any.
Yikes.
– bob