Blog number 146 Jan 23, 2008
So the left headlight went out on our '94 940 turbo Volvo. I bought a new bulb, took the right headlight bulb out because Teresa told me the right one was the one that was bad, but the right one was the wrong one. That one was good. It was the left one that was bad.
Her right was from the front of the car looking towards the windshield, my right was seen from the driver's seat. I think I was more right (no pun intended) than she was. But I digress.
I had the good bulb out, so I tried to put it back and it wouldn't go. Now, the bulb capsule contains the bulb and the accruements which enable the bulb to be connected to the rest of the automobile. It would only go in so far, not far enough to twist the lock that holds the whole thing in place. It's a simple arrangement, a cylinder with three notches and that's it. Fit the notches together, push in, and lock. Simple.
I jiggled, twisted, cursed, pushed and prayered, all to no avail. Just then, the damn thing slipped into place. I could feel it going in that last quarter inch, and sure enough, the lock easily twisted into place, locking the bulb capsule into place. Whew!
So now that I was on a roll, I took the bad capsule out, but could not get the new one in no matter how much I tried. I tried putting the old one back in, thinking maybe something was askew with the new one, but I could not get the old one back in again either.
I called the Volvo people and asked them if there was a trick to it. They assured me there was not.
I finally wound up taping the damn thing in place with duct tape.
I hold a faint hope that driving the Volvo will result in the capsule jiggling itself into place.
Good luck with that, huh?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
MY FUNNY VALENTINE or TWO JOKES IN ONE
Blog number 145 Jan 22, 2008
I told the lovely Teresa that I heard a comedian who was very funny. I told her I was going to tell her one of his jokes, but that I didn't think I could tell it as well as he did - something in the way he said it.
I then told her the joke - that rice was a good food to eat if you wanted to eat 2000 of something.
She replied to this, "Yukkers. I hate rice."
Monday, January 21, 2008
MORE NEWS FROM A DIFFERENT FRONT PART ONE
Blog number 144 Jan 21, 2008
So I finished that book on naval battles and am again on the book about the battles in New Guinea in WW2. Nasty stuff. Malaria, beri beri, bleeding feet, bleeding diarrhea, bleeding ulcers, swamps, starvation, thirst, freezing cold, debilitating heat, leeches, huge bats, dangerous snakes and spiders. Japs. Nasty stuff.
Meanwhile, back at the fort, General MacArthur, who has been demanding the troops "Get off their asses" and get the job done, was living the good life. He had the only house in New Guinea with modern plumbing. It was appointed with fine tropical furniture, hardwood floors and even a library. MacArthur enjoyed a menu of fresh eggs, milk, salad and meat. He also had a staff of nine native boys, who wore serving gloves and pressed white laptops decorated with blue stars and red stripes.
The guys are trying to flank the Japs, sneaking in through a swamp. When the first shot rang through the swamp, "Everybody," according to Lutjens, "flopped down and sank his face into the mud. I don't know exactly how the rest of the guys felt, but it scared the hell out of me. Somebody whispered, ' That's a Jap.' "
One guy, who was out on the post, was trying to figure out where the shot had come from. When he reported that it had come from behind a tree, Lutjens must have shaken his head. Talk about stating the obvious. The swamp was full of trees.
Though neither Lutjens nor Schultz knew it, Company E had stumbled smack into a Japanese outpost. The Japanese were guarding the bridge that spanned Entrance Creek, northwest of the Triangle. Lutjens men were scared, but they were not content to stay put. They crept forward. "We all wanted a peek at them [the Japanese]," Lutjens admitted, "after coming all that way, we wanted to see what they looked like."
Despite their curiosity, Schultz and Lutjens eventually did the prudent thing - they halted the company. Men stood as still as mannequins As dusk neared, a fog settled over the swamp. The men grew cold and uncomfortable. A few guys decided to light cigarettes to calm their nerves. It was a soldier's prerogative - if he was going to be miserable, he might as well have a smoke. The Americans might have been short of 81mm mortar ammunition, but they sure were not short of cigarettes.
According to Lutjens, "The Japs had automatic fire emplaced in coconut trees, and as soon as they saw the matches flare up, they let us have it - not just from in front, but from all sides. We'd walked right into the middle of them."
So I finished that book on naval battles and am again on the book about the battles in New Guinea in WW2. Nasty stuff. Malaria, beri beri, bleeding feet, bleeding diarrhea, bleeding ulcers, swamps, starvation, thirst, freezing cold, debilitating heat, leeches, huge bats, dangerous snakes and spiders. Japs. Nasty stuff.
Meanwhile, back at the fort, General MacArthur, who has been demanding the troops "Get off their asses" and get the job done, was living the good life. He had the only house in New Guinea with modern plumbing. It was appointed with fine tropical furniture, hardwood floors and even a library. MacArthur enjoyed a menu of fresh eggs, milk, salad and meat. He also had a staff of nine native boys, who wore serving gloves and pressed white laptops decorated with blue stars and red stripes.
The guys are trying to flank the Japs, sneaking in through a swamp. When the first shot rang through the swamp, "Everybody," according to Lutjens, "flopped down and sank his face into the mud. I don't know exactly how the rest of the guys felt, but it scared the hell out of me. Somebody whispered, ' That's a Jap.' "
One guy, who was out on the post, was trying to figure out where the shot had come from. When he reported that it had come from behind a tree, Lutjens must have shaken his head. Talk about stating the obvious. The swamp was full of trees.
Though neither Lutjens nor Schultz knew it, Company E had stumbled smack into a Japanese outpost. The Japanese were guarding the bridge that spanned Entrance Creek, northwest of the Triangle. Lutjens men were scared, but they were not content to stay put. They crept forward. "We all wanted a peek at them [the Japanese]," Lutjens admitted, "after coming all that way, we wanted to see what they looked like."
Despite their curiosity, Schultz and Lutjens eventually did the prudent thing - they halted the company. Men stood as still as mannequins As dusk neared, a fog settled over the swamp. The men grew cold and uncomfortable. A few guys decided to light cigarettes to calm their nerves. It was a soldier's prerogative - if he was going to be miserable, he might as well have a smoke. The Americans might have been short of 81mm mortar ammunition, but they sure were not short of cigarettes.
According to Lutjens, "The Japs had automatic fire emplaced in coconut trees, and as soon as they saw the matches flare up, they let us have it - not just from in front, but from all sides. We'd walked right into the middle of them."
Sunday, January 20, 2008
MORE NEWS FROM THE FRONT PART THREE
Blog number 143 Jan 20, 2008
I'm still reading this book about war at sea.
World War 2 developed into a massive emergence of the number of weapons of war without a comparative increase in the number of men competent enough to use them. In other words farmers, truck drivers, and lumbermen were given commands of ships with little or no training.
Leon Cannick tells of when he was assigned command of an LCT, " We were supposed to have six weeks of training. When I got there...there's no three (sic) weeks of training at all. Forget that. The next day they gave me my crew who were far more up on LCTs than I was...I went out one day with another skipper and his crew. Then I went out another day with my crew and another skipper on my boat. Then the next day they said, ' There you are.' "
One of Cannick's fellow skippers astounded an admiral by explaining that he could keep his ship out of the rays of the moon by zigzagging.
********************
Kamikazi pilots - the first suicide bombers, were all volunteers. The way one group volunteered was that, instead of volunteers taking one step forward, the ones who didn't want to volunteer were to take one step forward. Of course in that culture, no one wanted to volunteer not to volunteer for giving up their life in order to maybe destroy a ship. So nobody did. They all became suicide bombers.
I had read before that one Kamikazi pilot strafed the command center after take off. I read that again in this book.
Captain Inocughi of the Japanese navy and a disciple of Admiral Onishi - the initiator of the Kamikazi program, conceded that, "many of the new arrivals [at Kamikazi bases] seemed at first not only to lack enthusiasm, but indeed to be disturbed by their situation." Hah!
I'm still reading this book about war at sea.
World War 2 developed into a massive emergence of the number of weapons of war without a comparative increase in the number of men competent enough to use them. In other words farmers, truck drivers, and lumbermen were given commands of ships with little or no training.
Leon Cannick tells of when he was assigned command of an LCT, " We were supposed to have six weeks of training. When I got there...there's no three (sic) weeks of training at all. Forget that. The next day they gave me my crew who were far more up on LCTs than I was...I went out one day with another skipper and his crew. Then I went out another day with my crew and another skipper on my boat. Then the next day they said, ' There you are.' "
One of Cannick's fellow skippers astounded an admiral by explaining that he could keep his ship out of the rays of the moon by zigzagging.
********************
Kamikazi pilots - the first suicide bombers, were all volunteers. The way one group volunteered was that, instead of volunteers taking one step forward, the ones who didn't want to volunteer were to take one step forward. Of course in that culture, no one wanted to volunteer not to volunteer for giving up their life in order to maybe destroy a ship. So nobody did. They all became suicide bombers.
I had read before that one Kamikazi pilot strafed the command center after take off. I read that again in this book.
Captain Inocughi of the Japanese navy and a disciple of Admiral Onishi - the initiator of the Kamikazi program, conceded that, "many of the new arrivals [at Kamikazi bases] seemed at first not only to lack enthusiasm, but indeed to be disturbed by their situation." Hah!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
MORE NEWS FROM THE FRONT PART TWO
Blog number 142 Jan 16, 2008
I'm still reading this book about war at sea.
Discussing German submarines, the topic turns to toilet training. Conventional toilets could not be flushed at depths greater than thirty meters because of external water pressure. The boats became fitted with specially designed high pressure toilets that could be evacuated at lower depths. However, these were complicated to operate and a single mistake in procedure could result in toilet's occupant being drenched with sea water and toilet waste. At least one sub was lost because of a toilet accident that allowed sea water to short out the batteries.
Those who demonstrated competence in operating the mechanism were called, "toilet graduates" and assigned by the commanders to supervise and assist those less expert in the art.
*****************
In discussing the Canadian corvettes, "Canadians retained their distinctive cockiness and individualism. A Canadian corvette, steaming past Gibraltar in 1945, received the signal, "What ship?" She replied, "What rock?"
*****************
One Frank Albert encountered one of the few men trying their damnedest to get out of the navy. In boot camp, "The day before graduation, our barracks was slated for a major inspection by the commanding officer, My buddy, the one that has been trying to figure out a way out of the navy, was named Captain of the Head. I was on his detail. We had those toilets shining...As the captain walked in, the bugler sounded attention. That captain went through the head with a fine tooth comb...not a speck of dust. We passed with flying colors. Just as he turned his back to address his marine orderly, my buddy broke a Baby Ruth candy bar in half and threw it into one of the toilets. When the captain heard the splash he yelled, "What the hell was that?" My buddy retrieved it, took a bite and threw it back, yelling (with a snappy salute), 'That's shit, sir.' He was out of the navy the very next day with a section 8."
I'm still reading this book about war at sea.
Discussing German submarines, the topic turns to toilet training. Conventional toilets could not be flushed at depths greater than thirty meters because of external water pressure. The boats became fitted with specially designed high pressure toilets that could be evacuated at lower depths. However, these were complicated to operate and a single mistake in procedure could result in toilet's occupant being drenched with sea water and toilet waste. At least one sub was lost because of a toilet accident that allowed sea water to short out the batteries.
Those who demonstrated competence in operating the mechanism were called, "toilet graduates" and assigned by the commanders to supervise and assist those less expert in the art.
*****************
In discussing the Canadian corvettes, "Canadians retained their distinctive cockiness and individualism. A Canadian corvette, steaming past Gibraltar in 1945, received the signal, "What ship?" She replied, "What rock?"
*****************
One Frank Albert encountered one of the few men trying their damnedest to get out of the navy. In boot camp, "The day before graduation, our barracks was slated for a major inspection by the commanding officer, My buddy, the one that has been trying to figure out a way out of the navy, was named Captain of the Head. I was on his detail. We had those toilets shining...As the captain walked in, the bugler sounded attention. That captain went through the head with a fine tooth comb...not a speck of dust. We passed with flying colors. Just as he turned his back to address his marine orderly, my buddy broke a Baby Ruth candy bar in half and threw it into one of the toilets. When the captain heard the splash he yelled, "What the hell was that?" My buddy retrieved it, took a bite and threw it back, yelling (with a snappy salute), 'That's shit, sir.' He was out of the navy the very next day with a section 8."
Monday, January 14, 2008
MORE NEWS FROM THE FRONT
Blog number 141 Jan 14, 2008
I'm reading this book about war at sea and at one point it is talking about training aircraft pilots. In discussing soloing, one Lt. Warner states,
"You are so elated over your first successful flight that nothing else matters. You walk back to lunch differently than you ever did before. You feel that you really amount to something in the world now. There is a firmness and determination in your step and possibly you swagger just a bit. You walk this way until after your first crash."
********************
Jap sailors used to mix large quantities of water with industrial strength Ethel alcohol for drinking purposes and they used to burn off the excess alcohol because Ethel alcohol has a strong smell and they didn't want their superiors to smell what they were doing.
If the fumes from the alcohol permeated an enclosed space, it could blow up a ship, which happened to a number of Jap ships. The loss of the admiral's flagship Mikasa, and the battleship Mutsa in 1942 was widely believed to have occurred for this reason.
I'm reading this book about war at sea and at one point it is talking about training aircraft pilots. In discussing soloing, one Lt. Warner states,
"You are so elated over your first successful flight that nothing else matters. You walk back to lunch differently than you ever did before. You feel that you really amount to something in the world now. There is a firmness and determination in your step and possibly you swagger just a bit. You walk this way until after your first crash."
********************
Jap sailors used to mix large quantities of water with industrial strength Ethel alcohol for drinking purposes and they used to burn off the excess alcohol because Ethel alcohol has a strong smell and they didn't want their superiors to smell what they were doing.
If the fumes from the alcohol permeated an enclosed space, it could blow up a ship, which happened to a number of Jap ships. The loss of the admiral's flagship Mikasa, and the battleship Mutsa in 1942 was widely believed to have occurred for this reason.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
PUZZLING EVIDENCE
Blog number 141 Jan 06, 2008
I was watching "Cops" last night and the cops had picked up this kinda old skinny man riding a bike for purported crack sales. When they searched him, they found $1300 in cash, and a fairly large amount of crack rocks on him. He was riding around at night on his bicycle, selling crack. Evidently he had been doing this for a number of years because he had already served time for sales more than once. That's the evidence.
The puzzling part is this: This skinny old man riding around alone at night, carrying no weapons, but carrying lots of cash and dope, coming in contact mainly with crack addicts who are known for their nefarious acts around people with money and/or dope, evidently felt completely safe doing his business. What's going on here?
ION, wouldn't you think that tuba players, trumpet players and the like in marching bands would have their lips stuck to their instruments when playing at winter sports such as football in Minnesota? Huh?
I was watching "Cops" last night and the cops had picked up this kinda old skinny man riding a bike for purported crack sales. When they searched him, they found $1300 in cash, and a fairly large amount of crack rocks on him. He was riding around at night on his bicycle, selling crack. Evidently he had been doing this for a number of years because he had already served time for sales more than once. That's the evidence.
The puzzling part is this: This skinny old man riding around alone at night, carrying no weapons, but carrying lots of cash and dope, coming in contact mainly with crack addicts who are known for their nefarious acts around people with money and/or dope, evidently felt completely safe doing his business. What's going on here?
ION, wouldn't you think that tuba players, trumpet players and the like in marching bands would have their lips stuck to their instruments when playing at winter sports such as football in Minnesota? Huh?
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
IT'S JUST A GAME.
Blog number 140 Jan 02, 2008
I just received an e-mail from my oldest son - David, containing an excerpt he took from Craig's list concerning a guy's dueling with M&Ms. He would take two, squeeze them together and the one that broke was the loser, which would immediately be eaten.
This reminded me of a corncob battle my older brother and I used to wage on my grandparent's farm back when I was seven and he was nine.
We used to feed the pigs whole ears of corn, so there were piles of corncobs in the pig pasture.
By the way, we kept a pile of them out of the winter snow in the cellar. We used these cobs for heating and cooking. They burned with a nice heat. Very economical fuel, you betcha.
Anyhow, the way we conducted our battles is that each of us would pick up a predetermined number, then my brother would hold one of mine in his left hand and hit it at a ninety degree angle with one of his. One of them would break. Then it was my turn and so forth. The person who had cobs left after the other person's were all gone was the winner.
Afterwards we would debrief the battles and the war.
That was probably my favorite game. I think it was my brother's favorite game too. I do know that I never had to beg him to play.
One time he had a cob that broke fifty of mine and the next day he found it and again wiped me out. That was some cob!
Years later, when we were both in our sixties, I asked him about that cob and he told me that he had hid it, ready for batttle the next day.
Sometimes we would line the cobs up like in trenches and throw rocks at them. There were plenty of flints there and when they hit another rock they would give off a little spark and the smoke would smell exactly like burnt gunpowder. That was nice.
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