I will be as blunt as possible right from the start so you don't waste your time reading something you disagree with.
If you live your life in accordance to a book written thousands of years ago (and embellished throughout the generations to accomplish some selfish assholes' goals) you're a fool and cannot think for yourself.
If you wait for God, Allah, Buddah, Odin, Ares or some other mythical "being" to solve your problems you get what's coming to you. The whole of any religion is contradictory to itself. Religion is a way for a few to control many. The Devil is in the details.
Generally speaking, most Muslims, Christians, Buddhists and Pagans are all about supporting their communities. Feeding those who are hungry, housing those who have no home, aiding those who are sick... That's not religion. That's just being a decent human. What difference does it make if a hungry person is homosexual, muslim, christian, pagan etc. When someone falls, you pick them up. Period.
I was forced into attending church as a child. I didn't believe any of it and rebelled at every opportunity. I skipped out of the conformation classes frequently and when confronted by my parents I would ask "What are they gonna do? Hold me back another year?" It was important to my parents, but not to me. There's a twist to the story.
My Mother's Father, Grandpa Arnie, was a Methodist Minister. Grandpa had married Grandma, in secret mind you, had three children (my Mother being their first) and were farmers. This all happened in the midst of the Great Depression. Grandpa, due to having a family, or being a conscientious objector, worked in a bomb factory during WWII as his way to contribute to the war effort. I don't know the details, but at the end of WWII he heard the calling of God and gave up farming to become a servant of God. Though I'm not a "good" christian, I can't help but respect my Grandfather for having the cajones to throw everything to the wind and pursue something he thought was his destiny.
My Mother's family was living on a shoestring as farmers but once Grandpa started his journey to becoming a servant of God, things for them became dire. Mom frequently tells stories of how they depended on donations to keep them alive. During Grandpa's time earning his theology degree (something most "preachers" don't possess) his youngest child, my Uncle, contracted polio. You anti-vaxxers are idiots. Through hand-me-down clothes, used cars and donations of food, Grandpa completed his degree and became a Minister. He became an evangelist of the purist form. Not the Billy Graham type of bullshit "evangelist". Grandpa took care of his flock. He visited people at their homes, made sure they had enough to eat, fixed their tractors (he was an old farm boy after all), visited the sick in hospitals... He was being a good person and looking out for his fellow man.
Grandpa baptized countless babies, married countless couples and presided over the funerals of his people. It was this world in which I was raised. Though I did not like being forced into attending church every Sunday, Grandpa's humanity was passed to me. It is a gift of which I am most thankful for. That gift is, for me, what "religion" is. Taking care of your fellow man. Regardless of what a person's beliefs are. If you are hungry I will feed you. I'll also show you how to bait the hook so you can fish for yourself. If you are cold I will bring you firewood to heat your home. I will also show you how to sharpen an ax, fell a tree and split logs.
Outside of the sermons I heard Grandpa give, I never heard any of the "The bible says this and the bible says that..." nonsense. I have exactly two sermons of Grandpa's on tape. They are very precious to me. In those two sermons he is expressing how to be a good person. Help your fellow man. To me THAT is what religion is all about. Helping people.
23 February, 2019
03 February, 2019
Replace, Don't repair: A lesson In Corporate Greed.
Those of you who did have a Dad, Grandad, Step Dad etc. who DID fix things, you would take the faucet apart, figure out how it works and do what you had to do in order to make the faucet work properly.
If you fall into the first category, I'm not trying to degrade you and make you feel like less of a man. Not being sexist, the man typically gets the "fix it" tasks. Or the more manly man of the two if that is your situation. If you're using a butter knife as a screw driver to assemble your shitty Ikea "furniture" I will applaud you. You are taking the task into your own hands and doing the job the best you know how. Conversely, I will chide you for not having taken advantage of your "smart" phone to look up the task on YouTube. Or, perhaps, order up an old shop class textbook from Amazon. The demise of shop class in schools has put a massive surplus of those old textbooks on the market. There is no excuse for you to NOT have one of those books. Read it. You will become more independent. Even if you have no desire to build things or repair things, reading old books will, at least, give you some idea of what you're dealing with. An informed person cannot be taken advantage of.
My bathtub's faucet started dripping again. I have "hard" water in my home and the plumbing is subject to the effects of mineral deposits and scale. About nine years ago the bathtub's faucet started dripping and I had to address it. Being outside the "normal" business hours, something I deal with as a night shifter, I had to do with what was available. That's my super power. I make things happen with few resources.
I grew up in a rather frugal house. When a faucet started to drip my Dad would fix it. He would take the faucet apart, inspect it and repair it if he could. If seals and springs need replacement he would take me in tow and head off to the hardware store. He would take the old parts along so he could compare them to the variety of replacements, purchase what he needed and then we would return home. The new parts were installed, the faucet didn't drip, Mom was happy and then he would give the old parts to me. Maybe I was different, maybe not. I found those old valves, seals and springs to be more fascinating than the toys I had. I would assume my parents knew that I was interested in those things. Otherwise they would have just thrown those old parts into the bin.
So nine years ago I took that bathtub faucet apart and inspected the parts. Mineral scale had built up on the seals and the bore they resided in. The scale prevented the seals from seating, completely, against the valves. I scraped the scale off of each part, used pliers to stretch the springs a bit, resurfaced the face of the valves and put it all back together. That repair lasted nine years. Then the faucet started dripping again.
I expected to go through the same process of disassembly, cleaning and reassembly but it wasn't to be. The cup seals had wear in them that was beyond repairing. Home Despot was still open so I figured I would go out and get a seal kit, install it and be done for another decade. Nope.
Home Despot had a valve and seal kit from some shit-hole Chinese manufacturer for $10, but they had only one in stock. The sealing face of the valve was plastic. Not the brass of the original part. $10 for injection molded nylon, two o-rings, a spring and cup seal. That's a ridiculous price. Oh, but wait, the genuine Delta valves are plentiful. $10 each, but no cup seals or springs. The only cup seals and springs available were in a "Pro Pack" of 50 for $10. I was pissed off.
You can bet there was some suit, who had no idea that Phillips head screw drivers came in different sizes, who meticulously planned the exact situation I was in. When my Dad and I went to the hardware store a kit of valve, seal and spring could be had. Dad didn't have to purchase a 50 pack of seals and springs because the valves did not include those parts. If you're one of those suits, go fuck yourself. You're the kind of douche who buys a diesel pickup because you don't know any better. I see that and will rake you over the coals as revenge. You twats couldn't change a tire without calling for help. Enjoy your extra long wait and extra billable time as your family waits to get "up north" for your vacation. If you could get out of the mindset of blue collar tradesmen being "below" you, you might just get better service. Your "nose in the clouds" attitude is what your level of service is based off. Us "lower" people know you couldn't fix your way out of a wet paper bag. Maybe you should have taken a shop class instead of calculus I. Shop class would have been a better choice.
It is plain to see that the suits know most people, younger generations in particular, haven't had the benefit of shop classes. [sarcasm] "Who would want a shop class? Nobody would want to have such a lowly blue collar job. They can just call a plumber to fix that leaky faucet. [/sarcasm] Yeah, sure. With their nearly maxed out credit cards on top of their crippling student loan debt. Those young folk couldn't take a shop class because shop class didn't exist. They're at the mercy of those who DID have shop class and bothered to learn, on their own in many instances, how to work in the skilled trades. I find that shameful. One of my nephews was told by the local "quick lube" place that his car needed an air filter. He doesn't even know how to change an air filter! The shop classes were gone when he was in school. The suits know of my nephew and others like him. They're taking advantage of it.
Through my YouTube videos (amongst other YouTubers) I am doing my best to wrest control away from the corporate bean counters and put it back into the everyman's hands. Did your tire go flat? YouTube that shit and do it yourself! Plugging a tire is not rocket science. Do NOT let the fear of the unknown stop you. The information is out there. You just need to search for it.
"Throw off those chains of reason and your prison disappears" - Neil Peart, Rush, Hemispheres, Cygnus X-1, Book II.
14 August, 2018
A Motorcycle Tale
When I was a kid I had some exposure to Harley-Davidsons via a couple of cousins and my brother. My brother first had a "Hardly-Davidson", an Aermacchi Sprint which never ran right, but it got me hooked on the "Milwaukee Iron". I rode my bike around pretending it was an H-D and had fun. Later on my brother acquired a late '70s Sportster and I fell in love with the thing. I was in high school at that time and was hell bent on being a biker. My father did NOT want his youngest son riding around on a motorcycle. I had some Harley shirts, got the requisite engineers' boots, had a Sportster 883 ad (torn from a magazine) in my locker, I watched biker movies, I read a book on Harley-Davidson... I was Mr. Harley-Davidson without ever having ridden a motorcycle. Looking back on it I was quite pathetic.
I got a little seat time on one of those small Japanese '70s dirt bikes a friend had. My brother even let me ride his Sportster once. Near the end of my Senior year of high school I made a promise to myself that, one day, I would own a Harley. About ten months after that promise I ended up with a $150 Kawasaki KZ650-B1. Dad was not happy. He didn't speak to me for a week. Dad eventually said that he wasn't happy with my decision but respected how responsible I was. I had the thing registered, insured, had a helmet etc. right from day one. It was my first year in tech school. My instructor at the time used to be a motorcycle mechanic and he changed everything I had thought about motorcycles.
He loaned me a VHS tape of that year's Moto GP at Laguna Seca. I had never seen road racing before but it caught my interest. I was also reading every motorcycle magazine the school had. I then got a subscription to Motorcyclist magazine. Harleys were constantly being bashed and I couldn't understand why. "Ah, these guys are all sport bike people and have no idea how awesome Harleys are." I thought. The writers always complained about poor handling, lack of ground clearance and such. Harleys were frequently compared to tractors. The summer between first and second years of tech school I went to see my first road race at the local track. I heard a Ducati for the first time.
I didn't know it, but I had become a motorcyclist at this time. Not a biker.
The second year of tech school led to a loss of interest in Harley-Davidson. I was never going to be able to afford one and, as I was finding out, they weren't much for sport riding. The KZ650 was slowly becoming more sporting. unnecessary parts were removed, parts were bobbed, the exhaust went from 4 into 2 to 4 into 1, just like sport bikes. I was riding the hell out of that thing. It just kept progressing a little bit at a time. I started pushing the bike a little more here and there, I pushed myself a little bit too. I really liked that old Kawasaki. it wasn't a 600 Ninja, but that old KZ650 was more than enough for my meager skills.
Fast forward to 2009-2010. The Kawasaki had stopped working just after I got my first place and it was put in the garage for four years. I bought the house and moved the KZ to another garage where it would sit for years. I eventually decided that I would figure out the problem and had it diagnosed within thirty minutes. I kicked myself for not having done it years before. But, the economy had tanked, major industry disappeared from the city and I had no money for motorcycles. Things got so bad that I made the heart-wrenching decision to sell my beloved KZ650. Worst decision ever. I should have just let it sit in the garage for a couple of years until things got better. But I didn't and I regret selling it. Oh well, I had to live with it. I thought that motorcycling had no interest for me anymore.
Three years ago a coworker had been having some trouble with his '98
Sportster. Some idiot somewhere in the past had put a "big bore" kit on the thing so it went from being an 883 to something like 1150-ish. The coworker was young, had a heavy hand and had damaged the cylinders. He had it repaired at the dealer and he promptly did it again. He did the work that time around and I started asking him (I saw a deal and I could fix it) if he wanted to sell it. He declined. He got it running, it puked the oil out, he learned about dry sump oil systems and then rode it for months until "that day". He said he was out riding with his friends and the thing started running on one cylinder. He had another Harley in his sights and asked me if I was still interested in buying the Sportster from him. I got it for $800. I fulfilled that promise I had made to myself in high school.
The sporty sat in my garage for a year before I decided to see if I could get it running. Put some fresh gas in, did some rudimentary valve train and cylinder inspection and got it running. I honestly couldn't tell if it was running right or if it was just the "performance" shit that got put on it. Lumpy cams and all that kind of stuff. It also had straight pipes. Way too freaking loud. At least it ran on both cylinders as far as I could tell. I put it back in the corner and there it sat.
This summer I decided to clean the thing up, put a new battery in it, get it registered and take a little ride just to see if it was something I could putt around town with. Then, something happened. The motorcycling bug bit me again and after having given up on motorcycling I found myself obsessed with getting this poor, abused Sportster back on the road. Once it was running and registered I took it around the block to see how things went. No big problems so it was off to the gas station for a fill up and then I rode around the neighborhood. I couldn't work on the thing fast enough. I got it insured and started hunting for some stock exhaust, which I found, and when I was putting the quiet exhaust on I found the origin of the "running on one cylinder" complaint.
You'll have to do the research for yourself but, in short, a lollipop fell out of one of those annoying straight pipes. That was fixed with the replacement exhaust, the carb got tuned a bit, things that had been ignored for so long by previous owners were adjusted, paint and chrome got polished, the "hammer & chisel mechanic" repairs done by previous Bubbas were fixed properly.
I've put a few hundred miles on it so far and have no plans to stop. But I've learned something about Harley-Davidsons. I don't really care for them. Harleys don't have the little things that the Japanese motorcycles have but everyone ignores. Flip up seats that reveal a bit of storage and helmet hooks, comfortable riding positions (talking about "standard" motorcycles like my old KZ650), engines that don't shake you to pieces, decent control layout... When I flipped up the seat of the KZ650 I would see the battery, air filter (both easily changed) a small compartment for the tool kit and a document holder for the owner's manual and registration card. My Sportster doesn't have any of that and I find it annoying.
As I put more and more miles on the Sporty I am beginning to understand all of those complaints I read about in those old magazines. There isn't much "feel" with a Harley other than vibrations and aching muscles from uncomfortable riding positions. I don't like forward controls. I don't buy into the "forward controls let you stretch your legs out" nonsense. That's fine for tooling around town while "cruising" and it looks cool, but forward controls got old fast. Japanese "standard" motorcycles put your feet below your butt where they should be and the handlebar makes you lean forward just enough to cause the wind, at high speed, to keep you supported. Brilliant!
I have a list of things I'm going to be doing to this Sportster in order to make it more to my liking. Mid controls to get my feet in a more comfortable spot, a wider handle bar for a bit more leverage and the slight forward lean of my torso, decent shocks etc. I'm trying to make it into the KZ650 I loved so much. It won't be, but I can get it close. The passenger accommodations have been removed and the seat, with it's passenger pad, is going to disappear soon. For me, motorcycling is a solitary endeavor. I'll ride with my best friend, but that's about it. Large group rides don't appeal to me but I have yet to participate in one of those. Maybe I'll give that a try this summer. I have a feeling it wouldn't be long before I started looking for the next turn so I could go out on my own. That's just me.
I look back on my childhood and think about how I wanted a Harley and how I wanted to be a "biker". I got the Harley and despite the things I don't like about it, I'm just happy to be back on a motorcycle again. I haven't smiled so much or felt so happy in a long, long time. But, I'm a motorcyclist and I'm not brand-loyal. I wave at every rider I see because, regardless of the motorcycle, we're all out doing the same thing. Having fun.
I got a little seat time on one of those small Japanese '70s dirt bikes a friend had. My brother even let me ride his Sportster once. Near the end of my Senior year of high school I made a promise to myself that, one day, I would own a Harley. About ten months after that promise I ended up with a $150 Kawasaki KZ650-B1. Dad was not happy. He didn't speak to me for a week. Dad eventually said that he wasn't happy with my decision but respected how responsible I was. I had the thing registered, insured, had a helmet etc. right from day one. It was my first year in tech school. My instructor at the time used to be a motorcycle mechanic and he changed everything I had thought about motorcycles.
He loaned me a VHS tape of that year's Moto GP at Laguna Seca. I had never seen road racing before but it caught my interest. I was also reading every motorcycle magazine the school had. I then got a subscription to Motorcyclist magazine. Harleys were constantly being bashed and I couldn't understand why. "Ah, these guys are all sport bike people and have no idea how awesome Harleys are." I thought. The writers always complained about poor handling, lack of ground clearance and such. Harleys were frequently compared to tractors. The summer between first and second years of tech school I went to see my first road race at the local track. I heard a Ducati for the first time.
I didn't know it, but I had become a motorcyclist at this time. Not a biker.
The second year of tech school led to a loss of interest in Harley-Davidson. I was never going to be able to afford one and, as I was finding out, they weren't much for sport riding. The KZ650 was slowly becoming more sporting. unnecessary parts were removed, parts were bobbed, the exhaust went from 4 into 2 to 4 into 1, just like sport bikes. I was riding the hell out of that thing. It just kept progressing a little bit at a time. I started pushing the bike a little more here and there, I pushed myself a little bit too. I really liked that old Kawasaki. it wasn't a 600 Ninja, but that old KZ650 was more than enough for my meager skills.
Fast forward to 2009-2010. The Kawasaki had stopped working just after I got my first place and it was put in the garage for four years. I bought the house and moved the KZ to another garage where it would sit for years. I eventually decided that I would figure out the problem and had it diagnosed within thirty minutes. I kicked myself for not having done it years before. But, the economy had tanked, major industry disappeared from the city and I had no money for motorcycles. Things got so bad that I made the heart-wrenching decision to sell my beloved KZ650. Worst decision ever. I should have just let it sit in the garage for a couple of years until things got better. But I didn't and I regret selling it. Oh well, I had to live with it. I thought that motorcycling had no interest for me anymore.
 |
| Day I brought Sporty Spice home |
Sportster. Some idiot somewhere in the past had put a "big bore" kit on the thing so it went from being an 883 to something like 1150-ish. The coworker was young, had a heavy hand and had damaged the cylinders. He had it repaired at the dealer and he promptly did it again. He did the work that time around and I started asking him (I saw a deal and I could fix it) if he wanted to sell it. He declined. He got it running, it puked the oil out, he learned about dry sump oil systems and then rode it for months until "that day". He said he was out riding with his friends and the thing started running on one cylinder. He had another Harley in his sights and asked me if I was still interested in buying the Sportster from him. I got it for $800. I fulfilled that promise I had made to myself in high school.
The sporty sat in my garage for a year before I decided to see if I could get it running. Put some fresh gas in, did some rudimentary valve train and cylinder inspection and got it running. I honestly couldn't tell if it was running right or if it was just the "performance" shit that got put on it. Lumpy cams and all that kind of stuff. It also had straight pipes. Way too freaking loud. At least it ran on both cylinders as far as I could tell. I put it back in the corner and there it sat.
This summer I decided to clean the thing up, put a new battery in it, get it registered and take a little ride just to see if it was something I could putt around town with. Then, something happened. The motorcycling bug bit me again and after having given up on motorcycling I found myself obsessed with getting this poor, abused Sportster back on the road. Once it was running and registered I took it around the block to see how things went. No big problems so it was off to the gas station for a fill up and then I rode around the neighborhood. I couldn't work on the thing fast enough. I got it insured and started hunting for some stock exhaust, which I found, and when I was putting the quiet exhaust on I found the origin of the "running on one cylinder" complaint.
You'll have to do the research for yourself but, in short, a lollipop fell out of one of those annoying straight pipes. That was fixed with the replacement exhaust, the carb got tuned a bit, things that had been ignored for so long by previous owners were adjusted, paint and chrome got polished, the "hammer & chisel mechanic" repairs done by previous Bubbas were fixed properly.
 | |
| Sporty Spice in its current config |
As I put more and more miles on the Sporty I am beginning to understand all of those complaints I read about in those old magazines. There isn't much "feel" with a Harley other than vibrations and aching muscles from uncomfortable riding positions. I don't like forward controls. I don't buy into the "forward controls let you stretch your legs out" nonsense. That's fine for tooling around town while "cruising" and it looks cool, but forward controls got old fast. Japanese "standard" motorcycles put your feet below your butt where they should be and the handlebar makes you lean forward just enough to cause the wind, at high speed, to keep you supported. Brilliant!
I have a list of things I'm going to be doing to this Sportster in order to make it more to my liking. Mid controls to get my feet in a more comfortable spot, a wider handle bar for a bit more leverage and the slight forward lean of my torso, decent shocks etc. I'm trying to make it into the KZ650 I loved so much. It won't be, but I can get it close. The passenger accommodations have been removed and the seat, with it's passenger pad, is going to disappear soon. For me, motorcycling is a solitary endeavor. I'll ride with my best friend, but that's about it. Large group rides don't appeal to me but I have yet to participate in one of those. Maybe I'll give that a try this summer. I have a feeling it wouldn't be long before I started looking for the next turn so I could go out on my own. That's just me.
I look back on my childhood and think about how I wanted a Harley and how I wanted to be a "biker". I got the Harley and despite the things I don't like about it, I'm just happy to be back on a motorcycle again. I haven't smiled so much or felt so happy in a long, long time. But, I'm a motorcyclist and I'm not brand-loyal. I wave at every rider I see because, regardless of the motorcycle, we're all out doing the same thing. Having fun.
04 July, 2018
For Profit or For Pride?
One of my coworkers recently started asking me about woodworking stuff. He's a single Dad and in the past couple of years his kids have gone out on their own so he's had the time and a little bit of extra money to pursue his hobbies. One of them is woodworking. I told him about the power tool scams, how to tell a good hand saw from a bad hand saw, some workbench design tips, a couple of hand planes to start with, how to sharpen etc. The basic stuff. Well, that is, what "basic stuff" is to me.
He's been using pallets as a source of material because they're free. I do the same thing. That's where he and I start to part ways. He's been making what I call "flea market kitsch". Simple projects that are pretty easy to make but don't really have any value in the grand scheme of things. An example of what he's been doing is the "American flag" stuff. He bought a 50 star stencil kit, edge glued some boards then painted the thing up as a faded American flag. Which, I might add, flies in the face of the Flag code. He brought the thing into work to show off, as I do, and he immediately sold it. He then got a couple of requests for smaller versions to use as key hangin' boards. I asked him "Really? You're going to sell that kind of crap?" He said it was easy money. My narrow minded brain can't comprehend that sort of thing. It's just like Ikea "furniture". It exists only to make money and is never intended to last. It sickens me. The coworker brought in, yesterday, an American flag "punisher"... board, for lack of a better description. No purpose to it other than to make money. He's also acquired the requisite flea market business card with appropriately kitschy logo. He's also a "sander". I'm trying to get him to use a hand plane but he ain't budging. Apparently he likes huge clouds of sawdust, wasted electricity, wasted time and rounded everything. But he enjoys what he does and it makes him happy. And that means I'm the snobbish asshole. True story.
Before I had hand planes and decent, old saws, before I knew what "sharp" was and how to achieve it, I was just like the coworker. I had the mindset that I couldn't make certain projects unless I had the right power tool or jig. I measured everything and had no idea what a marking gauge was. I had never heard of a marking knife. I had never thought of making parts fit to other parts by simply holding up a board to another board and making a couple of tick marks. Still, the crap I built back then was made as good as possible so it would last. It had to be done properly.
About ten years ago I started converting to being a "hand tool" woodworker. Once I read Christopher Schwarz's "Anarchist's Tool Chest" book, it was a done deal. I use the table saw frequently but the router, biscuit joiner and palm sander have gone unused for years and years. I acquired hand planes, molding planes, old saws, learned how to make the tools "shaving sharp", built a proper workbench... It was a game changer and a revelation. By regressing I've actually progressed and have become more independent. With the small selection of hand planes and molding planes I have, I can create molding that can't be produced any other way.
When I build something I think about my nieces, nephews and their children. I build things specifically for one person and never make a dime on it. The smiles I see when I give them something is worth so much more than money. The things I build will last long enough that generations down the road someone will ask "Where did you buy that chest with all the brass bits?" and the future relative will say something like "I think my grandpa's uncle, I heard he was kinda weird, made that for my grandpa." That's the goal for everything that leaves my little shop. Like most people, I'm afraid of being forgotten. I don't have kids so all that will remain of me is what I'll leave behind. It won't be Punisher American flags, key boards or whatever the fad was. Remember when everything had a heart either painted on it or cut into it?
I guess I would say that I'm a woodworking (and metalworking to a lesser degree) evangelist. Everyone wants "antiques" or what they think are "antiques" but have no clue as to why those antiques are desirable. I try to educate people. I show them how to tell machine made dovetails from hand cut dovetails. Why dovetails, mortise & tenon joinery last longer than glue and screws. I try and show them how the market is duping them into paying more for the cheap wood. "Knotty pine" and "live edge" are just buzzwords to get you to pay more for common pine and lazy DIY sawyers, respectively. Don't even get me started on the sliding barn door craze. Bollocks!
My small bathroom has a built-in cabinet that was, obviously, done by a DIY person. It's straight out of the New Yankee Workshop school of woodworking. When I first saw the cabinet door I knew it was made by one of the previous owners of this house. It was made with found materials, the plywood panel in the door had grain running horizontally instead of vertically *gag* and the door frame was of the stub tenon variety. The cabinet is directly over the toilet so I looked at it frequently. It annoyed me to no end, but, it was made by a person so I kept it as is. Then the glue joints started to fail and the lower rail of the door came loose. My first thought was that the person who made it did a shitty job, but then realized that it had lasted, maybe, twenty years in a damp, humid environment. Not too bad. But it had to go. I was not going to repair something that I couldn't stand looking at. So I made a new door.
Like the original, I used what I had at hand. Poplar. The rest of the cabinet is oak and oak-faced ply. I had intended to paint the replacement but didn't. Semi-gloss poly just like everything else. Construction of the replacement door was a whole different game. I made a new door with actual mortises and tenons. The panel was wood, not ply, and the grain runs vertically as it should. I also draw bored the tenons. With that kind of construction, glue was an afterthought. It doesn't matter how humid or wet it gets, unless the wood decomposes, that door is never going to come apart. Unless the next owner of this house is a complete moron.
Long after I'm gone someone is going to remodel that bathroom. If my initials and year of creation that I carved into the back of that door don't mean anything to them, it will end up in the dump and some shit Ikea-type crap will wind up in its place. The thought of that disturbs me. Getting rid of something decent for something that's crap, but in fashion, is what we've become as a society and we should be ashamed of ourselves. We all can admire an old house that still has its original cabinetry and fittings but most will not think of how it survived. Those things survived because stubborn berks like myself are not slaves to fashion and style. Which brings me back to the coworker.
Though what he's making (for profit) is not what I consider a worthwhile investment of time, he does enjoy doing it and other people like it too. They get something made by a real person and he gets some money. That money is spent locally and not overseas at some massive factory that makes "fashionable" crap for Wal-Mart. Though I can't stand the stuff, every piece of "rustic" or "heirloom" *gag* furniture that is sold at a flea market is a huge middle finger to overseas furniture farms. Every antique that is saved and repaired says "Fuck you and your MDF 'cherry finish' crap!" That's what I revel in.
Please, please, please learn how antique furniture is made. Learn the signs left by the woodworkers of generations past. Learn about the base woodworking joinery and why it works so well. Please, don't buy commercially made crap. Give it a go and build it yourself. It will be worth so much more.
He's been using pallets as a source of material because they're free. I do the same thing. That's where he and I start to part ways. He's been making what I call "flea market kitsch". Simple projects that are pretty easy to make but don't really have any value in the grand scheme of things. An example of what he's been doing is the "American flag" stuff. He bought a 50 star stencil kit, edge glued some boards then painted the thing up as a faded American flag. Which, I might add, flies in the face of the Flag code. He brought the thing into work to show off, as I do, and he immediately sold it. He then got a couple of requests for smaller versions to use as key hangin' boards. I asked him "Really? You're going to sell that kind of crap?" He said it was easy money. My narrow minded brain can't comprehend that sort of thing. It's just like Ikea "furniture". It exists only to make money and is never intended to last. It sickens me. The coworker brought in, yesterday, an American flag "punisher"... board, for lack of a better description. No purpose to it other than to make money. He's also acquired the requisite flea market business card with appropriately kitschy logo. He's also a "sander". I'm trying to get him to use a hand plane but he ain't budging. Apparently he likes huge clouds of sawdust, wasted electricity, wasted time and rounded everything. But he enjoys what he does and it makes him happy. And that means I'm the snobbish asshole. True story.
Before I had hand planes and decent, old saws, before I knew what "sharp" was and how to achieve it, I was just like the coworker. I had the mindset that I couldn't make certain projects unless I had the right power tool or jig. I measured everything and had no idea what a marking gauge was. I had never heard of a marking knife. I had never thought of making parts fit to other parts by simply holding up a board to another board and making a couple of tick marks. Still, the crap I built back then was made as good as possible so it would last. It had to be done properly.
About ten years ago I started converting to being a "hand tool" woodworker. Once I read Christopher Schwarz's "Anarchist's Tool Chest" book, it was a done deal. I use the table saw frequently but the router, biscuit joiner and palm sander have gone unused for years and years. I acquired hand planes, molding planes, old saws, learned how to make the tools "shaving sharp", built a proper workbench... It was a game changer and a revelation. By regressing I've actually progressed and have become more independent. With the small selection of hand planes and molding planes I have, I can create molding that can't be produced any other way.
When I build something I think about my nieces, nephews and their children. I build things specifically for one person and never make a dime on it. The smiles I see when I give them something is worth so much more than money. The things I build will last long enough that generations down the road someone will ask "Where did you buy that chest with all the brass bits?" and the future relative will say something like "I think my grandpa's uncle, I heard he was kinda weird, made that for my grandpa." That's the goal for everything that leaves my little shop. Like most people, I'm afraid of being forgotten. I don't have kids so all that will remain of me is what I'll leave behind. It won't be Punisher American flags, key boards or whatever the fad was. Remember when everything had a heart either painted on it or cut into it?
I guess I would say that I'm a woodworking (and metalworking to a lesser degree) evangelist. Everyone wants "antiques" or what they think are "antiques" but have no clue as to why those antiques are desirable. I try to educate people. I show them how to tell machine made dovetails from hand cut dovetails. Why dovetails, mortise & tenon joinery last longer than glue and screws. I try and show them how the market is duping them into paying more for the cheap wood. "Knotty pine" and "live edge" are just buzzwords to get you to pay more for common pine and lazy DIY sawyers, respectively. Don't even get me started on the sliding barn door craze. Bollocks!
My small bathroom has a built-in cabinet that was, obviously, done by a DIY person. It's straight out of the New Yankee Workshop school of woodworking. When I first saw the cabinet door I knew it was made by one of the previous owners of this house. It was made with found materials, the plywood panel in the door had grain running horizontally instead of vertically *gag* and the door frame was of the stub tenon variety. The cabinet is directly over the toilet so I looked at it frequently. It annoyed me to no end, but, it was made by a person so I kept it as is. Then the glue joints started to fail and the lower rail of the door came loose. My first thought was that the person who made it did a shitty job, but then realized that it had lasted, maybe, twenty years in a damp, humid environment. Not too bad. But it had to go. I was not going to repair something that I couldn't stand looking at. So I made a new door.
Like the original, I used what I had at hand. Poplar. The rest of the cabinet is oak and oak-faced ply. I had intended to paint the replacement but didn't. Semi-gloss poly just like everything else. Construction of the replacement door was a whole different game. I made a new door with actual mortises and tenons. The panel was wood, not ply, and the grain runs vertically as it should. I also draw bored the tenons. With that kind of construction, glue was an afterthought. It doesn't matter how humid or wet it gets, unless the wood decomposes, that door is never going to come apart. Unless the next owner of this house is a complete moron.
Long after I'm gone someone is going to remodel that bathroom. If my initials and year of creation that I carved into the back of that door don't mean anything to them, it will end up in the dump and some shit Ikea-type crap will wind up in its place. The thought of that disturbs me. Getting rid of something decent for something that's crap, but in fashion, is what we've become as a society and we should be ashamed of ourselves. We all can admire an old house that still has its original cabinetry and fittings but most will not think of how it survived. Those things survived because stubborn berks like myself are not slaves to fashion and style. Which brings me back to the coworker.
Though what he's making (for profit) is not what I consider a worthwhile investment of time, he does enjoy doing it and other people like it too. They get something made by a real person and he gets some money. That money is spent locally and not overseas at some massive factory that makes "fashionable" crap for Wal-Mart. Though I can't stand the stuff, every piece of "rustic" or "heirloom" *gag* furniture that is sold at a flea market is a huge middle finger to overseas furniture farms. Every antique that is saved and repaired says "Fuck you and your MDF 'cherry finish' crap!" That's what I revel in.
Please, please, please learn how antique furniture is made. Learn the signs left by the woodworkers of generations past. Learn about the base woodworking joinery and why it works so well. Please, don't buy commercially made crap. Give it a go and build it yourself. It will be worth so much more.
13 June, 2018
A Disturbingly Quick ECM Diagnosis. Really Long Story.
An RV filled to capacity with seven women (a grandma, two daughters and four grandaughters) and, I think, six small dogs, came into the shop last night. It was a 2008 Chevy C5500 with 41,000 miles on it. The thing still smelled new and there was no corrosion to be found anywhere except the exhaust pipes. The RV had been well cared for and has been parked indoors during winters. They called us saying that it was in a speed derate condition. I think they came out of North Dakota or Minnesota and it had derated soon after departure. A shop replaced the fuel filter and they went on their merry way. 300 miles later it derated again and that's when they showed up at our shop.
I grabbed the work order, saw it was a C5500 and thought I had the job in the bag. Would take a couple of hours, but I thought I would be able to get them fixed up. One of our regular customers had a small fleet of those trucks and they all suffered, regularly, from the same problem these women were having. After having them tell me what had happened (always talk to the drivers, shit gets messed up when the information passes from driver, to service writer, to mechanic) I scanned the thing and saw P0101 and P0102. "This is a slam-dunk fix." I thought. Then I saw the odometer.
The other customer (the fleet) didn't start having those DTCs and derate problems until the vehicles had well over 100,000 miles. Those fleet trucks also idled a hell of a lot. Someone not in the know, see the previous post, would toss a MAF sensor into the truck and call it good only to have the vehicle come back the next day with the same problem. More parts, same problem etc. After bashing our heads against the wall trying to figure out what was going on, we solved the problem. The problem wasn't expected and wouldn't have been looked for, but we figured it out. What we found with the first fleet truck was a carbon problem.
All of the trucks in this story have the Isuzu 6.6L "Duramax" diesel engine (the LMM variety I believe). Let me tell you, the Duramax didn't get the nickname "Dirtymax" for nothing. They're decent engines and are reliable, but they're a real pain in the ass to work on. Access to just about everything sucks.
Try and follow along. Air entry into the engine starts at the air cleaner, passes through the filter, past the MAF sensor (air intake temperature sensor and MAF sensor are one unit), through some ducting, into the turbo, out of the turbo, more ducting, through the CAC, more ducting, through the intake air valve, through the intake heater, through a small manifold where the EGR valve is also connected then finally into the engine. Towards the end of that path is where the problems were found.
The little manifold bolts on top of the EGR valve. The two ports which allow the exhaust gas into the fresh air intake are about 1" by 2" (25mm by 50mm) and the dirty-ass exhaust puts a LOT of carbon through those ports. With the first fleet truck those two ports were completely blocked and the intake down into the engine was about 1/3 blocked. I piled up all the carbon I dug out and it amounted to a ball (non-packed) of about 4" (100mm) in diameter. Once clean and reassembled, the problem was gone. Well, until the carbon built up again. The next time we ran into those DTCs, a quick shove of a bore scope down the intake, a cleaning, done. Every now and again the carbon build-up would cause the EGR valve to fail, but that was an easy test. Use the scan tool to command the EGR valve to different positions throughout its range, a look at the values (commanded/desired position should match actual position) and if the numbers matched, EGR valve was OK. If the numbers didn't match a new EGR valve was needed. So, after all of that experience I thought the RV would be no different.
The RV, as mentioned earlier, only had 41,000 miles on it. I did the EGR valve check and it was fine. I pulled the pipe from the CAC and stuck the bore scope down the intake tract. Sooty, slightly oily (normal) but no carbon build-up to speak of. Exhaust wasn't restricted (air flow through the engine is the name of the game here), air cleaner was OK, ducting OK, CAC OK... Well, I guess the diagnostic procedure had to be run through.
I started with P0101 and not far into it a list of DTCs was given and if any of those were present they had to be dealt with first. That's quite normal. When faced with a number of DTCs, you pick the active DTC with the most occurrences and start there. P0102 was one that had to be dealt with first and I then got that procedure. I suppose I should explain diagnostic procedures.
When I was in tech school, these procedures were called flow charts because that's what they were. Search Google for "flow chart" and you'll see what they are. Start at the top, answer the "yes" or "no" questions (lots of testing involve in this by the way. Voltage and resistance measurements etc.) and you'll end up with a solution. The people who create these flow charts are really good at it, most of the time they're spot-on, but they're not infallible. Most of the flow charts end up with one of two things. "Replace ECM" or "Contact manufacturer". It's very rare to get that far, especially contacting the manufacturer, but it does happen on occasion.
ECMs are expensive. We recently replaced an ECM in a 2006 KW that has a Caterpillar C13 and our cost for the part and it's programming (we don't have the capabilities to program Cat stuff) cost a little over $3,000. When you're the mechanic doing the troubleshooting, you don't want to be wrong. Replace an ECM only to have the same problem means you missed something early on. A disappointingly large amount of mechanics don't go through EVERY step of the flow charts. Generally speaking, if someone says an ECM is bad and they have less than an hour of diagnostic time into it, they didn't do what they should have.
Troubleshooting start with basic stuff. Visual inspection for corroded terminals, broken/burned wiring, missing components, damaged components etc. A little further in and the ECM and sensor connectors will be disconnected, resistance checks done. Those terminals and wires have to be identified and confirmed, the connectors have to be removed, wire colors or numbers identified... it takes a lot of time. You want to be sure that the pin you stuck a meter probe into is the correct pin. Sometimes you get to "replace ECM". I go through the whole flow chart a second time just to be sure I didn't fuck up somewhere. As I go through the flow chart I tick off every step I do and, if a measurement of some sort is called for, I write that down right on the chart. If I get to "replace ECM" again, well, I guess the customer is getting some bad news. If the second run through ends up at another solution I go through for a third time.
The flow chart for this RV was alarmingly short. Sometimes you run into a short one. Scan, "Are any of these codes active yes/no", inspect intake for loose clamps... inspect exhaust for... monitor MAF sensor PID is the value within so and so? Measure resistance at pin 2. Is the resistance greater than five ohms? If yes, repair circuit. If no, replace ECM. I was startled at how quick ECM replacement came up. "That can't be right at all. I missed something somewhere." I said out loud not realizing all these women were watching the whole time. So, I ran through it a second time. Replace ECM. A third time wound up at the same spot. "Ma'am, I have some news for you."
I hate telling nice people that they're going to be stuck in place for days and will be giving us a lot of their money. I explained the fleet trucks and that their problem should be a carbon build-up problem but I wound up at ECM replacement three times. She asked me some questions, I gave answers, she asked how much an ECM would cost and when we could get one, I paused awkwardly.
"Well, it would probably be a couple thousand but I don't know for sure. All the dealers are closed for the night." Her tanned face turned white. I then had to tell her that new ECMs are blank and required programming, programming involves programming fees, new ECM probably won't be in stock... She asked where the nearest dealer was and I said "Just across town. They'll probably open up at 08:00. You're welcome to camp out in the parking lot if you choose to stay here tonight. She went inside the RV and they all had a pow-wow. She comes back out and says they have to be at a dog show, two states away, by 08:00 the next day.
"What will happen if we keep going? Will it derate again? Will the engine be badly damaged?" she asks. I can only say "I don't know. The engine will most likely derate again, but I don't think the engine will be damaged. You will be going through some not-so-nice parts of a couple of big cities though. At night." She then asks me what I would do. I'm always a straight shooter with customers even if they don't want to hear what I have to say. "I would call the dog show a bust and be at the dealer first thing in the morning. The safety of my family would be my first concern. You may make it just fine, but it could also go very, very wrong. If my decision to try and 'make it through' resulted in harm to my family... I wouldn't want that on my conscience. A dog show comes around every year, family only once."
They had another pow-wow. The lady came back and said they were going to try heading down the road. "OK, I'm going to make it clear on the invoice that it was your decision to try and make it." I said. They paid the bill, went out back to have dinner and when I looked out again they were gone.
I hope they make it and that the dog show was worth it.
I grabbed the work order, saw it was a C5500 and thought I had the job in the bag. Would take a couple of hours, but I thought I would be able to get them fixed up. One of our regular customers had a small fleet of those trucks and they all suffered, regularly, from the same problem these women were having. After having them tell me what had happened (always talk to the drivers, shit gets messed up when the information passes from driver, to service writer, to mechanic) I scanned the thing and saw P0101 and P0102. "This is a slam-dunk fix." I thought. Then I saw the odometer.
The other customer (the fleet) didn't start having those DTCs and derate problems until the vehicles had well over 100,000 miles. Those fleet trucks also idled a hell of a lot. Someone not in the know, see the previous post, would toss a MAF sensor into the truck and call it good only to have the vehicle come back the next day with the same problem. More parts, same problem etc. After bashing our heads against the wall trying to figure out what was going on, we solved the problem. The problem wasn't expected and wouldn't have been looked for, but we figured it out. What we found with the first fleet truck was a carbon problem.
All of the trucks in this story have the Isuzu 6.6L "Duramax" diesel engine (the LMM variety I believe). Let me tell you, the Duramax didn't get the nickname "Dirtymax" for nothing. They're decent engines and are reliable, but they're a real pain in the ass to work on. Access to just about everything sucks.
Try and follow along. Air entry into the engine starts at the air cleaner, passes through the filter, past the MAF sensor (air intake temperature sensor and MAF sensor are one unit), through some ducting, into the turbo, out of the turbo, more ducting, through the CAC, more ducting, through the intake air valve, through the intake heater, through a small manifold where the EGR valve is also connected then finally into the engine. Towards the end of that path is where the problems were found.
The little manifold bolts on top of the EGR valve. The two ports which allow the exhaust gas into the fresh air intake are about 1" by 2" (25mm by 50mm) and the dirty-ass exhaust puts a LOT of carbon through those ports. With the first fleet truck those two ports were completely blocked and the intake down into the engine was about 1/3 blocked. I piled up all the carbon I dug out and it amounted to a ball (non-packed) of about 4" (100mm) in diameter. Once clean and reassembled, the problem was gone. Well, until the carbon built up again. The next time we ran into those DTCs, a quick shove of a bore scope down the intake, a cleaning, done. Every now and again the carbon build-up would cause the EGR valve to fail, but that was an easy test. Use the scan tool to command the EGR valve to different positions throughout its range, a look at the values (commanded/desired position should match actual position) and if the numbers matched, EGR valve was OK. If the numbers didn't match a new EGR valve was needed. So, after all of that experience I thought the RV would be no different.
The RV, as mentioned earlier, only had 41,000 miles on it. I did the EGR valve check and it was fine. I pulled the pipe from the CAC and stuck the bore scope down the intake tract. Sooty, slightly oily (normal) but no carbon build-up to speak of. Exhaust wasn't restricted (air flow through the engine is the name of the game here), air cleaner was OK, ducting OK, CAC OK... Well, I guess the diagnostic procedure had to be run through.
I started with P0101 and not far into it a list of DTCs was given and if any of those were present they had to be dealt with first. That's quite normal. When faced with a number of DTCs, you pick the active DTC with the most occurrences and start there. P0102 was one that had to be dealt with first and I then got that procedure. I suppose I should explain diagnostic procedures.
When I was in tech school, these procedures were called flow charts because that's what they were. Search Google for "flow chart" and you'll see what they are. Start at the top, answer the "yes" or "no" questions (lots of testing involve in this by the way. Voltage and resistance measurements etc.) and you'll end up with a solution. The people who create these flow charts are really good at it, most of the time they're spot-on, but they're not infallible. Most of the flow charts end up with one of two things. "Replace ECM" or "Contact manufacturer". It's very rare to get that far, especially contacting the manufacturer, but it does happen on occasion.
ECMs are expensive. We recently replaced an ECM in a 2006 KW that has a Caterpillar C13 and our cost for the part and it's programming (we don't have the capabilities to program Cat stuff) cost a little over $3,000. When you're the mechanic doing the troubleshooting, you don't want to be wrong. Replace an ECM only to have the same problem means you missed something early on. A disappointingly large amount of mechanics don't go through EVERY step of the flow charts. Generally speaking, if someone says an ECM is bad and they have less than an hour of diagnostic time into it, they didn't do what they should have.
Troubleshooting start with basic stuff. Visual inspection for corroded terminals, broken/burned wiring, missing components, damaged components etc. A little further in and the ECM and sensor connectors will be disconnected, resistance checks done. Those terminals and wires have to be identified and confirmed, the connectors have to be removed, wire colors or numbers identified... it takes a lot of time. You want to be sure that the pin you stuck a meter probe into is the correct pin. Sometimes you get to "replace ECM". I go through the whole flow chart a second time just to be sure I didn't fuck up somewhere. As I go through the flow chart I tick off every step I do and, if a measurement of some sort is called for, I write that down right on the chart. If I get to "replace ECM" again, well, I guess the customer is getting some bad news. If the second run through ends up at another solution I go through for a third time.
The flow chart for this RV was alarmingly short. Sometimes you run into a short one. Scan, "Are any of these codes active yes/no", inspect intake for loose clamps... inspect exhaust for... monitor MAF sensor PID is the value within so and so? Measure resistance at pin 2. Is the resistance greater than five ohms? If yes, repair circuit. If no, replace ECM. I was startled at how quick ECM replacement came up. "That can't be right at all. I missed something somewhere." I said out loud not realizing all these women were watching the whole time. So, I ran through it a second time. Replace ECM. A third time wound up at the same spot. "Ma'am, I have some news for you."
I hate telling nice people that they're going to be stuck in place for days and will be giving us a lot of their money. I explained the fleet trucks and that their problem should be a carbon build-up problem but I wound up at ECM replacement three times. She asked me some questions, I gave answers, she asked how much an ECM would cost and when we could get one, I paused awkwardly.
"Well, it would probably be a couple thousand but I don't know for sure. All the dealers are closed for the night." Her tanned face turned white. I then had to tell her that new ECMs are blank and required programming, programming involves programming fees, new ECM probably won't be in stock... She asked where the nearest dealer was and I said "Just across town. They'll probably open up at 08:00. You're welcome to camp out in the parking lot if you choose to stay here tonight. She went inside the RV and they all had a pow-wow. She comes back out and says they have to be at a dog show, two states away, by 08:00 the next day.
"What will happen if we keep going? Will it derate again? Will the engine be badly damaged?" she asks. I can only say "I don't know. The engine will most likely derate again, but I don't think the engine will be damaged. You will be going through some not-so-nice parts of a couple of big cities though. At night." She then asks me what I would do. I'm always a straight shooter with customers even if they don't want to hear what I have to say. "I would call the dog show a bust and be at the dealer first thing in the morning. The safety of my family would be my first concern. You may make it just fine, but it could also go very, very wrong. If my decision to try and 'make it through' resulted in harm to my family... I wouldn't want that on my conscience. A dog show comes around every year, family only once."
They had another pow-wow. The lady came back and said they were going to try heading down the road. "OK, I'm going to make it clear on the invoice that it was your decision to try and make it." I said. They paid the bill, went out back to have dinner and when I looked out again they were gone.
I hope they make it and that the dog show was worth it.
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