Er. I appear to be moving...
Right then. This may be a bit of a bombshell for you all, but I'm moving to America. Soon. Like really soon.
I applied for a job a few weeks ago, and had heard nothing and pretty much gave up on it. Then after a call the other day, I got a job offer through on e-mail last night. I was pissed when I read it first time (just got back from the pub, as it happens) so got up this morning half thinking that I had imagined it, but no. There it was.
So I accepted pending a few details, which I have just sorted out over the phone. So that's it. I'm going to work in Atlanta, Georgia pretty much as soon as I can get there. This means that ideally they want me there for Monday, but I think that might be cutting it a bit fine, so the next possible slot would be to get there on the 8th (Thursday). This is almost as little notice as I got when I went to Italy, but they would have to work hard to give me less than the two days I got then - I heard about the job first on Friday afternoon, went and had the interview within the hour, got the call saying that I had the job on the Saturday, and was on a plane Monday morning... This time is pretty laid back by comparison, but I was staying at my parents last time, so had little to sort out.
This time there is shitloads. I have my flat to shut down, empty, clean, get the post transferred, cut off all the amenities and all that; I have to get my toolbox back from Pete's and get some kit together and pack all my stuff into a bag and get out of it sharpish. At the moment, my main technique seems to be running around the flat looking at everything blankly, waving my arms and saying "Wibble" a lot.
Hopefully in an hour or two I can actually manage to be productive and sort all this shit out. We'll have to see...
Growly coughy boat engine
Extreme Will's boat on
VimeoA friend of mine has recently, and sadly, put
his boat up for sale. As a bit of a farewell, I am posting this clip of the sound of the engine while sitting in the marina. It has a 5.7 litre marinised small block chevy in it, and goes, at the last count "Fucking fast". I think he got about 40mph in it, which is bloody quick for a boat. All engineer and car types will apreciate this, although it may well go right over the heads of the rest of you as to why it is cool...
Flatter than a pancake
I nearly died a horrible death today. I was nearly squashed by
this car. It was up on Axle stands back where it is in that shot, but rather foolishly not the shiny yellow ones you see there, but some older ones. Shittier ones, in fact. That I no longer have much affection for.
I was working right under the back axle replacing the main pivot bush and link arms for the Watts linkage (the car is live axle, for those that know or care) which required me moving the suspension relative to the body to get it to all line up. To give an idea for those that aren't immediately aware of what this entails, I was under the car up to about my lower hip, with my legs initially pointing into what would effectively be the bottom right of the picture. Well and truly underneath £250,000 and 1 tonne of car, just to emphasise the point.
So. I had the car chassis on the (shitty) axle stands, and the axle (and so the rear suspension) on our shitty little jack with a block of wood on it to get the throw/travel to move the axle far enough to make the rubber bushes of the linkage line up. This meant taking all of the car's weight to start off with. Unfortunately, as I did so, the block of wood cracked in half, and the car fell sideways, and partially off, the jack. Over a ton of car was descending onto my head, basically. At some speed and with a bit of a bang, I can tell you. Fortunately, it only fell an inch or so onto the axle stands as they were still in position, and I had managed to spin myself around as the wood started to go and jammed my foot against the jack to stop it completely falling over. So all should have been a bit twitchy in the sphincter stakes, but all ok.
Truth be told, I shat my pants, and no mistake.
But that isn't the end of it, is it? No, cos that wouldn't be
funny, would it? Oh no. As the chassis drops and hits the axle stands, with the car still quivering and reverberating, the pin in one of the axle stands shears and the full weight now lands on one axle stand and a crooked, half fallen over, jack - which is only prevented from falling completely over by my foot. If the jack falls over, the car will slide to its right, fall off the other stand and squash me to fuck. It has no wheels on, and I am directly under the suspension. I trust that this is sufficiently spelled out for the people inexperienced in these matters. I would be, to put it in its proper medical terminology, proper fucked and no mistake.
So Muggins, here, is now pretty much stuck underneath the car, trying to hold the jack straight with my foot to keep the car off me. I was holding the jack, and so the car, and seemed able to stop its descent, but after a small amount of assessment (I imagine almost instant, although it felt considered at the time) decided that while I could maintain equilibrium, any movement would mean the car fell. I was thus totally stuck where I was. Fortunately, Ben (the other guy working there) had heard the first bang and looked over in time to see the car settle momentarily on the axle stands, then make a cracking noise and sag a bit more. So he shat himself (by way of empathy, presumably) and ran over asking if I was alright. I answered pretty calmly, but said that yes, I was alright, but that perhaps could he get a screwdriver or something through the axle stand so it could take the weight of the car.
Now, I have something about my personality of which I have never practiced or actively developed, but of which I am curious about and not a little proud. In times of great stress and pressure, only work related in my experience so far, I tend to go a bit over-calm in my demenour. This is, I assume, probably borne of my motor racing past, where so much of it is done at flat chat and with huge pressure that being able to converse and get your point across is pretty useful. Everyone has seen pitstops from F1 on the TV, but imagine trying to do them without any of the kit, and about a quarter (at least) of the people. Hard work, I assure you. As an example of this weird 'seeming calm' I have even been stood right next to (well, about 10 feet from) a racing car that is on fire and, quite conversationally, suggested to the Fire marshall that he should "Perhaps consider putting that burning car out, before it explodes". He didn't quite get the urgency until I pointed over his shoulder at the car rapidly being consumed in flames with the driver leaping out of it, and said "Um. Fire. Burny stuff, mate. Put it out, would you?" He then proceeded to panic and fall over his extinguisher before eventually putting it out.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to suggest that I am Mr Super Cool and am unfazed by anything, by any means. Far from it in fact- in all these instances, my heart rate is massively high and I am (where appropriate) shitting my spine out if it's scary, but I just seem to box it up until it is dealt with and adrenaline carries me through. From the outside, people think I am totally calm (unless they know me well and know the signs) but inside I am flapping big style. The advantage I have, I imagine, is that flapping makes my brain work faster, not stop. I have been very grateful for that in the past.
Anyway, so the downside of this, is that Ben (not by any means the sharpest tool in the box) is standing at the side of the car while I am suggesting what he needs to get to help me get out from being squashed flat under the car:
"Ok, I need you to get me something to use as a pin for this axle stand, and get it back under the chassis, because this jack is pretty much holding the car up."
He utterly fails to see the urgency because I sound so calm and conversational although I am shitting bricks and genuinely concerned that I am going to get squished, and starts mooching gently across the workshop to his toolbox poking about for something that he doesn't mind getting scratched (even if his tools are all shitty and fucked anyway). I realise that I haven't got my point across quite as perhaps is required. So I resort to shouting and swearing to get my point across
"Ben? Let me spell this out for you. If you don't get this
fucking axle stand under this car this jack WILL fall over and I WILL get squashed. I am struggling to hold it up with my foot and can't do it much longer. Now stop
fucking about and get this fucking car held up NOW!"
There is a bit of a clatter as he twigs that I am
really not joking and drops some stuff before he comes belting over with something - in fairness when he realised I was serious, he reacted pretty well. It's just if I had not been under the damn thing, his bimbling would have been funny.
It was only when he had come back and dropped down on the floor to help that he realised it was quite so close to going shit shaped in a basket. We got the stand back underneath on a lower setting and let the jack down while I reacted against the lean of it until the car settled properly.
When all was sorted, we worked out that the car had slid sideways about 3 inches and Ben kept saying "You must have been
shitting yourself!" lots.
Well. Yeah, pretty much. I was. Lots. I called the axle stand lots of names for a while to calm down, too. That'll teach it.
Some of the video from the archives
Writing with fire on
VimeoThe maximum amusement available from writing in the air with sparklers is achieved with a camera with a long exposure.
It is only enjoyed in its purest form, however, when one writes something profane. The result of all this frivolity is here:
This time Tin kept it in the frame. Beautifully underlined as well.
This is where it all started last year...
www.flickr.com/photos/tincorner/1304671/
Vimeo
Well, I have found another web thingy to get all fascinated with. I have been watching it for a while, and have decided that it is a 'good thing'(tm).
Amusing wheel effect on
VimeoWith the massively technical method of leaning out of the window and trying to point it at the rear wheel without being able to see (just playing about really) I completely randomly happened to catch Suggs doing a U-turn, and so got this cool wheel turning backwards effect thingy. I always wanted to show this off, as I really like it.
Vimeo lets you upload video clips for free. It is a fairly small weekly limit (30M) but after the initial excitement, I think that will be do-able and sensible. I am trying to post some of my favourite/most amusing video clips, and I am sure I will find some more for next week. You can find the first few
here.
Snap on Swag
Snap on Swag
Originally uploaded by Brock.It's not that I particularly wanted a Snap-on T-shirt, it's more that I feel I deserve some free stuff and that I refuse to pay for the T-shirts I wear for work. It would spoil my 100% record of free work clothing at all times...
I had to hassle Rob (the Snap-on bloke) for about 10 minutes, though. They never like giving discount, never mind freebies. This is a (much!) shortened version:
Me: "What are all these T-shirts for? Are these free?"
(I take one and put it under my arm only to have it taken off me and put back on the pile. Twice).
Rob: "Get your bloody hands off them, they're part of the promotion. You have to buy something to get a chance of one."
Me: Picking up something miniscule and very cheap) "How much is this? If I buy it do I get a T-shirt?"
"You get a chance at the raffle if you buy something. There's all sorts in there to promote the World Cup as well as T-shirts - England T-shirt, footballs, flags, goalposts sets for the kids..."
"Yeah, but that's all shit. I just want a T-shirt, not any of that crap. I hate football."
"Well, it's not for just giving out, it's for the promotion."
"Why do I have to buy it, anyway? I've spent about £2,500 on bloody tools with Snap-on over the last 10 years. Where's my T-shirt?"
(I keep mooching around the van poking everything and moving it, with Rob following me and putting it back. Sighing)
"Do you think that you can just hassle me into giving you free stuff? It's for promotions with sales of tools, you know."
"What if I buy this? Do I get a T-shirt then?"
(poke and move)
"What about this?"
(poke and move)
"And this?"
(poke and move)
*sighs*"You aren't actually going to buy anything, are you?"
"Nope. I just want a T-shirt."
- some time later -
"Come on, just buy something. You're not getting a free T-shirt, cos I don't make any money if you don't buy anything so why should I give you something for free? I haven't sold anything!"
"I reckon you are going to sell a big fat lump of fuck all for the rest of the day if I don't get anything, cos I'm not getting off the van empty handed. So that means you aren't going to make any more calls today, doesn't it?"
"Very funny."
(I just stand and grin at him. Then poke some stuff on the shelf without looking at it.)
*pause*
(with a weary smile) "If I give you a T-shirt, will you get off my bloody van?"
"Maybe..."
(Laughing)"Oh, for fucks sake! Here!"(throws these two T-shirts at me)! Now get out!!"
I win. Hahaha.
Sometimes even I wonder about the state of my mind...
I was being provoked in #flickr - the IRC chat channel:
* Wolfsauge tries to keep silent loudly
* Brock goes to stir his meat
Brock: What?
Brock: I'm cooking!
wirehead: Brock must have to shave the hair on his palms.
Brock: No, friction usually gets it off
Brock: ecentually
Brock: *eventually
* Brock makes a note not to fuck up punchlines with poor typing
Meer: it was still funny
Brock: Why thank you, my dear
Brock: It's amazing how lust clouds your cois judgment
Brock: oh, for fucks sake
Brock: this is getting silly
Meer: heh
Brock: that was supposed to be 'comic'
Brock: bah
*** squarewithin has joined #flickr.
Meer: hard to type w/ one hand?
Brock: You know it, honey
Brock: It's even harder to type with two, I keep slapping my cock on the keys...
Meer: eww *dies laughing*
Ickle tired person
Well. That was a bit of a weekend. I went out on Friday night and ended up getting rather too merry; it was great fun. But I think I am drinking too much. Saturday was spent with a pounding headache most of the day, and my guts played me merry hell. Like I say, I had a laugh, but hangovers irritate me enormously, so I try and avoid them whenever possible. I am going to try and drink less - particularly when I go out, mainly for financial reasons, to be honest - but also for health reasons. I'm sure I am not doing myself any favours with this sort of intake, and maybe I should make myself care before I
have to, if that makes sense.
Anyway, despite the fact that I am gently drinking wine as we speak, I am going to do less of it. Maybe tomorrow... Maybe. Heh.
Saturday evening involved the brief visit of an unexpected face from my middle past, which was good fun, and somewhat of a surprise. But on Sunday morning I went to
Tincorner's house after an email Call to Arms that he sent out to the boys a week or so ago. A bit of history: Tin was given (for his 21st birthday) a Triumph Stag - a classic car that had been found abandoned in a barn for five years after an engine fire. Over the (many, many!) years since this day, and including throughout University, we worked on this car to transform it from the non-running, dirty, burnt and badly painted car that it was, to the fast, gorgeous sounding and good looking beast that has been part of
various adventures through the ensuing years...
This time, the call was for further attention to the old girl and her structure. It has been many years since a major rebuild (10 years almost exactly, just for symmetry's sake) and Tin had a bodywork man lined up to attend to the various 'issues' that the passage of time had forced upon the chassis and metalwork of the Stag. Unfortunately, the timing hadn't quite lined up, and the window for the work had badly coincided with too many things to allow him to prepare the car. So this weekend we all descended on his gaff to strip what started off as
pretty much a complete car down to a
rolling chassis.
It was mostly Tin and me on the first day, and we had some routine maintenance to do to his Mum's car to do in the morning, and so we only started on the Stag in the afternoon. Minime was there for a while in the afternoon, but was prevented from fully participating as he would have liked by having his wife and baby present. He got his hands dirty a bit, but probably only enough to get him into trouble - he was supposed to be having a 'family' day... Oops. We decided to strip the interior and so hit the car like men possessed, stripping doors, seats, carpets, dash panels and wiring looms while Minime tried to pretend he wasn't helping. We had, in five hours, got the car essentially stripped from the windscreen back. I had knocked the tops of most of my knuckles and cut myself a number of times - such is the wonder of road cars, with their sharp edges and unforgiving corners- and Matt and I were absolutely exhausted. We had been flat out all day, trying to get as much done as possible, but still had to drag ourselves away from the car when it was getting dark. What is this obsession with getting that car right that has driven us for so long?
So after day one of utter exhaustion, came day two. The rest of the boys arrived in the morning: Aston, predictably smack on time as always, Minime surprisingly early but perhaps spurred on by his feeling of being hampered in his involvement the day before. Suggs, dragging along the entire clan, was some minutes behind...
Today went much the same way. Lots of running around, but the car is ready. We're all knackered, but the job is done. It is devoid of everything expect that which holds it off the floor to get it to the paint shop. We did uncover some nasty surprises that will require some TLS when the bedrock man gets to see the car, but surprisingly little for a car that is 35 years old. The car really is in good shape. I blame us. We rock. Still, we'll have to see what the man says. Hopefully it will be a happy response when the metal magic is done.
I mean. The miserable Fecker hasn't even let me drive it yet. After 14 years of helping him fix his car, I still haven't driven it. Several gearbox rebuilds, engine inner workings, paint stripping in Yorkshire (the entire car from Blue to its original white), car stripping down in Yarmouth, car stripping down in Warwickshire... Somebody remind me to kick his arse when it's all back together.
But never mind that. I'm buggered, so I am going to bed. I think I've done very well staying up until half eleven, to be honest, I thought I'd be asleep on the sofa by nine...
