BlogMeetThing?

Tam proposes "some sort of blogger/reader gathering" this coming Sunday. It's Indy 1500 weekend, after all.

Whaddaya think? Plump's Last Shot or someplace? Three-ish?

Morning Thoughts

- Did not wake up well this morning: fought to the surface. Still strugglin'. Some mornings are like that.

- The State Fair has 500 job openings to fill at a job fair today. Last year, they had considerably more applicants than openings and expect this year's turnout to be even bigger. This is for short-term jobs around Fair time, most of which pay $7.50 an hour. Yeah, tell me again how well that economic recovery is going? (Upside: State Fair workers are generally pleasant, helpful and friendly, about as far from the stereotyped "government worker" as possible.)

- We now know that it's "Amercia" that has 57 states. And presumably that nation participated in a war that helped end the Polish death camps. Somebody needs to make a multipartisan list of campaign fact-gaffes, with an eye toward using the misinformation to write alternate-history fiction. I predict the resulting parallel Earth would boggle Turtledove.

Dear Red China: Molon Labe

Seen at David Codrea's: China Condemns U.S. Gun Ownership As Human Rights Violation. Oddly, the pants of the running dogs of the Liberator Of Tibet failed to burst into flames; one can only assume asbestos.

Yeah, Red China? As your lackeys point out, we've got nine guns for every ten Americans -- and the tenth citizen is reloading. So get stuffed. You're outgunned, outstubborned and have killed off your own subjects and inhabitants of occupied territories in numbers that make Joe Stalin look like a slacker: ain't nobody listenin' when Red China says we ought to be disarmed.

Bad Signs

It's those signs you wake up seeing, real close:
3SRnN
Joj
HSnd
Or, for that matter, the one where you rush home feeling tired, make yourself stop and get something light for dinner, get home, put the baby watermelon in the fridge, check the mail, go to change your shoes and, sitting on the bed, think, I'll just lay down for a minute.

I half-woke an hour later, changed into bedclothes and was back in Slumberland wondering what Little Nemo was up to before you could say, "'Ware Flip!" I didn't read what it said on his hat until eight and a half hours later.

(Semi-relatedly, didja ever have one of those days? Or almost? --There's even a nested "one of those days" in my example!)

You Know How To Make It Rain?

I know how to make it rain: put up a new ham radio antenna with a home-made matching transformer, one you really plan to weatherproof after you've seen if the antenna is going to work.

I checked it out last night about 10, after dinner ("Steak a la Roseholme," slow-grilled over hardwood charcoal, with baked taters and green beans, ahhh!). It worked pretty well. This morning, it's getting rained on.

Guess I'll be taking it down and applying a hair dryer to it this evening.

Root Beer: Closer Than I Thought

It's not on tap, but Sunday, Tam returned from the reliably eclectic Locally Grown Gardens (a bike ride away) with two bottles of this: I like it; it's not as creamy as Dog'n'Suds but very smooth and not overly sweet.

Other recent sodage: Dapper Cola (tasty, not "bitey" but could possibly use a bit more cola flavor) and a beverage remarkably similar to the pre-HFCS taste of another "peppy" beverage. I'll bet it would be just as good at 10, 2 or 4! Recommended.

Spider!

The famous Porch at Roseholme Cottage is usually home to what I call "Frank Lloyd Wright moths." At rest, their furled wings are covered in a pattern of black-outlined pastels, rectangles of white, yellow, peach and pale green.

I've not seen as many this year -- and now I think I know why: "You are what you eat?" This spider -- and another like it, only smaller -- has set up shop in the hostas just off the Porch.

Too small to photograph really well with my Brownie (maybe 3/8" from front legs to rear legs), this critter has very much the same pattern on her abdomen in white and yellow, outlined in black, and has bright green legs. I doubt the moths are fooled.

(It appears the spider's actual prey are flies -- there's a snack all wrapped up for later just outside the frame. You get 'em, spider!)

1,343,812

One million, three hundred and and forty-three thousand, eight hundred and twelve. That's the number (source: Wikipedia) of American soldiers fallen, from the Revolutionary war to this day. Over half of them from the Civil War (and ponder that the next time someone is pipe-dreaming TEOTAWKI).

Perspective? The world-record-size facilities at the Indy 500, the world's largest single-day sporting event, hold approximately 657,000; so that's two Indy 500s filled to capacity with men (and some women) who stepped up and paid the steepest price.

They didn't do it just so you could have the day off. Whatever you may think of the wars in which they fought, remember the fallen on this day.

It's A Good Thing I Don't Have $15K Just Laying Around

...Or I'd've already bought a Model A pickup. And had it shipped. (Or this one, a lot more work but...)

Would anyone like to swap a vintage truck for a (long-garaged) MGB?

Unconcept On The Clear

Yes, you'll travel the world with your Godlyke Power Adapter Set...the makers of which may be a bit hazy on the distinctions between temporal, spiritual and electrical power.

(I've never had one of these in my hands. They look like a compact way to cope with world mains-socket standards -- we're down to what, less than a dozen versions? My preference is for dedicated adapters or even, given the casualness with which some of the cheaper versions treat the distinction between "line" and "neutral," building up my own in the form of short cables. More and more things automatically adjust themselves to available mains voltage and don't care about the difference between 50 and 60 Hz, but you still want the switch and fuse in the hot side of the line!)

Gun Show Report

Another nice small show, at the equally nice county fairgrounds in Lebanon. A couple of tables of inexpensive knives were the only Tam-eyebrow-raising items: no stuffed plush toys or off-target frou-frou at all.

There were several interesting collector guns; I passed up an H&R .32 revolver (pretty) and a .32-Short Colt (blueing about half gone, possibly 'smithed on to shorten the barrel) but not an H&R 622, a six-shot "pull pin" .22LR plinker from 1958. (It appears Bill Goforth, the SME who'd written one book about Iver Johnson firearms, was working on a book covering H&R; with his passing in 2011, there's no telling if/when it will be published). Someone has probably (re?) plated this example but they didn't buff it excessively -- besides, it really is a plinker/kit gun.

I also picked up a couple of boxes of .32-20, 'cos -- fun! Reloads Brand-spankin'-new in a plain white box from a trusted source and a box of Ultramax cowboy cartridges. The latter from one of Tam's arcane-caliber friends, a nice young man who, as nearly as I can work out, has shot every cased round for which both gun and ammo can still be found or who will eventually do so. With a big smile. (That guy, at a gun show and, I'll bet, the range, is one of the happiest and most contented of men you could meet. And does he ever know ammo!)

Leaving the show, we encountered this: A Vespa 400! The owner (who, note stickers, has driven all of Route 66 in it) was kind enough to let Tam and me try it on for size. I don't know that this 16-hp beauty would be any tougher to drive than my ex's Suzuki Samuri, for which the drill was essentially to firewall the throttle and work your way up to the proper gear. The Vespa would win on mpg -- and probably looks. Cute! Here's the cockpit, with fewer gauges than many Vespa scooters. The GPS is a nice touch.

It appears that Mason's Used & Rare Books is gone; driving around the square had us thinking the town's been pretty hard-hit by the economy, though I think the mod to this sign was a low blow and highly undeserved. (It is also brazen, as it's well inside the "Hey, you" perimeter of the County Sheriff's facilities.)

Then there's this. Refurbished dairy? (Turns out maybe we should have gone 'round to the front of The Milk Building! But we'd've had to have called first. Live and learn). Also, it used to say "WILSON'S" above "MILK" but that part broke.)

We took Highway 32 over to Westfield, passing the interesting Victorian House Dining, in a nice 1800s cottage with a Model A parked outside! That's a place I'd like to check out.

Speaking of Fords, there's a very late Model T up at the Roush budget lot where Dog & Suds used to be. ($9500, says the nice man.) Alas, a T: with controls unlike anything you've ever driven, unless you've driven a Model T. But it sure is purty! Could use a little air, I think. (I just checked and Country Classics has sold the trucks of my dreams, Ford Model As with electric start and other mod. cons. Do want!)

On the "want" front, where does one go for a nice frosty mug of the pure quill? Triple XXX in Lafayette, I guess, but that's something of a long drive for root beer alone. (OTOH, totally not a safe search term all by itself. Never mind that: I'm told it's the righteous brew and the name has a long, honorable history.
Update: Frank W. James reminds in comments that the venerable Dog'n'Suds brand is still/again around and has returned to the good old "World's Creamiest Root Beer" formula. Yum! A&W -- a dependable standard -- has morphed into a very modern chain of eateries and even the B-K stands are still goin' strong, if not quite as numerous as they once were. Root beer stands: not vanished. You just have to drive out past I-465 into Real America to find most of 'em. (Indy's own Mug'n Bun is an exception to that rule -- and they brew their own!)

Stopped at Main Street Shoppes in Westfield to look the place over -- they've got a few Edgar Rice Burroughs books and always have interesting stuff. (A nice 3-row Underwood portable -- the MacBook Air of the 1920s, there's one in the title at Retrotechnologist -- and an almost-new L. C. Smith upright caught my eye. My Mom learned to type on the latter, which has the return lever on the right side! She says it was convenient but made for a habit to unlearn: every other manual has the return on the left). We looked at guns, dishes, games and toys of everyone's youth and even an assortment of bits and drivers for a brace...which went home with me.

And then on to the other interesting feature of the Shoppes: Big Hoffa's Barbeque. 100% ninja-free, properly cooked over fire and darned good. Even sweet tea! (And trust me, antiquing with the faint aroma of barbeque floating by is a pleasant experience. Big upgrade from the usual "antique" scent!) Of course we had a bite to eat. Yum!

...Both of us hit by headaches on the way home, mine very bad. So I've been napping. Better now!

IMPD = IMPeDe (Or Is It "Indy taMPereD?")

Tales of evidence-fondling in the Bisard case continue.

So, we've got an officer who may have been intoxicated on duty (unofficial BAC mesaurement of 0.19), speeding, and who did injure several motorcyclists and killed one. The police manage to take the blood sample incorrectly...and then fail to keep it refrigerated.

Turns out that even as the lack of refrigeration story was blowing up, IMPD officers were removing the samples from their sealed envelopes and takin' snapshots. This is not according to Hoyle -- or Peel or even normal procedure.

There are a lot of good officers in IMPD; there must be, or we'd all be jailed or dead, especially the many people who are pointing out the present mess. But the bad cops aren't doing the rest any favors. Even though it sure looks like that's what they set out to do.