Spring Forward

It's that time of year again, when people miss TV shows and are late for work.
We're now on Daylight Savings Time in the vast majority of the USA, and most informed Americans agree that it's a silly concept that creates more problems than it solves, but what can you do?

In an effort to cash-in, Duracell and the others have tried for years to get us to change the batteries in our smoke detectors on this day.
Personally, I wait for the detectors to make their annoying "low battery" alarm, thereby saving myself quite the tidy sum.
Or check voltage with my multi-meter, like I have to do each week with all the batteries my bands go through.
Wireless in-ear monitors and wireless microphones eat coppertops like crazy and won't tolerate the 7.2 volts from rechargables, plus some older electric basses with preamps chew through more than the usual 2 per year.

What I'm going to do on this particular weekend (starting now) is get the spare tire out from under my truck and check it out.

Here it is:


Got to admit, I've been real bad on this.
Had the truck for 18 months, and the spare has been a complete mystery until today.
Kept meaning to do it, but just never got around to it.
BIG Mistake!!

Here's what I found:
The winch system could use some lube, but works okay.

The tire and wheel were filthy!
Not much you can do besides clean it more often, but it sure would suck changing a tire on the way to anything formal.

The tire turned out to be my old favorite (and the racing standard) Goodyear Eagle, and is the same size as the rest.
Probably the best-condition survivor from a previous set, which is what I used to do with my Olds Cutlass Supreme and it's Eagles.
That's good news, especially considering that there's at least 3-4 years worth of tread left on the spare. My current tires were new when we bought the Dodge and have less than 10K miles on them, but in the event of catastrophic damage it's good to know that I already have a fine replacement in case I can't afford one right away. Good new truck tires are expensive, and I can always get a usable spare for $30, so it's cool that I can rotate the Eagle into the starting lineup if needed.

The rim doesn't exactly match the ones on the truck, but it's an all-aluminum Dodge wheel that's close enough. While driving down the road nobody would be able to tell at a glance that I'm rocking a spare.
Kinda wish I had 4 of this type, even though they are harder to clean because of the smaller rooks and grannies. (sp?)

The juicy part of this post is that I'm really glad I did this today, because my spare had ZERO air pressure!
100 percent useless.
Not even a whisper of air when I attached the pressure gauge.
I have a decent air compressor, and it took two charging cycles to fill it to specs.

I don't even want to think about how pissed off I would have been after spending way too much time jacking up the truck and changing the tire, only to find out it's as flat as the one I had just removed.
Knowing that it was preventable.
And entirely MY fault.

I'm pretty cool under pressure at gigs, but that's because I'm always OCD-prepared for failures with enough tools and spare parts to keep the show running, within reason.
Have to tell you that a blowout might have been the end of me.
Would probably have beat myself up, fatally.
Not kidding one bit.



The last finding was that there was no valve stem cap.
I spent nearly an hour digging through my spare parts/screw/nuts bins and never found what I was looking for, a metal cap from my Oldsmobile's racing wheels.
Need to check Sylvia's tires--might have put one on her car to save a trip to the store.
Speaking of which, to get the spare tire back under the Dakota where it belongs without going to the parts store and spending money, I just borrowed a valve cap from my friend's van which is parked in our driveway.
In the next week or two I'll buy a nice set for the truck, which will let me use the old ones to replace his and give me 3 spares. He'll never be the wiser unless he reads this blog post.


Oh, Hi Buz.


Assuming that the car dealer who sold us the truck checked the spare, and he probably did (may he rest in peace--him and his wife were good folks who've also helped many of my friends get into decent vehicles at affordable prices) I should be worried that it lost all air so quickly.
Believe me, I AM worried, but never found a nail or other obvious cause.
So I'm going to give it a week or two then crank it back down and check pressure, and lube the winch while I'm at it.
Hopefully it was just suffering from neglect.
Or maybe a bad valve.
We'll see.
At least I know that there might be a problem and have a plan of action.



Starting today, every time the clocks spring forward or fall back I'm going to check my spare tire. Maybe more often, if I'm as smart as I claim to be.
Like a defensive handgun, your spare tire is something you never really need until you need it very badly right effing now!!
When was the last time you checked out YOUR spare?

I was an idiot stranded on the side of the road missing work (or breakfast) just waiting to happen.

Don't miss work or breakfast.

Blast From The Past

Here I am in January 1988 driving my late great Olds Cutlass Supreme:
My brother and I were headed to the Ft. Davis area of West Texas to fly BIG model rockets, having been certified competent and safe by the governing body the previous year in Colorado.


This was the biggest one I flew, at around 5 feet tall and 4" in diameter.
I used an H90 for the main motor, as seen in the photo.
A few seconds later, 4 Estes D12 motors on fuses "air-started" to give it an extra push, plus a lot of white smoke.
(For those of you who flew Estes motors as a kid, 2 x D = E, so an H = 16 D motors, plus the extra 4!)


Post-flight handful of stinky motors.

For rocket meets like this, we had to apply months in advance to the FAA for a waiver that allowed us to penetrate "their" airspace. In return, the air traffic controllers were supposed to keep all aircraft away from the area for the duration of the scheduled launch window.

While big for me at the time, my rocket wasn't anywhere near the size and power of some of the others--I didn't even hit a mile in altitude but other guys probably went over two. And believe me, if something that big and fast hit any kind of aircraft, or God Forbid got sucked into an engine...

Which makes it all the more surprising that on the 2nd afternoon, a couple of Apache helicopters came around and invaded "our" airspace!
After orbiting the valley we were flying in, they made a few low passes right over the launch area.
Guess what color they were painted?
Any markings to be seen?

Maybe all those conspiracy theorists you used to laugh at weren't so crazy after all?
All I know is what I saw with my own eyes.



Tonight I also scanned a photo of my father from 1957:
Climbing into a jet fighter was probably a high point of his time in the service, since he ended up flying (and instructing) in multi-piston-engine stuff not long afterwards.

We were both 26 years old at the time of these pictures.

My Second Car

Also my mom's last car.
Since she knew that I would end up with it sooner rather than later (my brother drove pickups and rode motorcycles) I was allowed input.
Besides, we had similar tastes--I was driving a '77 Monte Carlo, she had loved her '77 Pontiac Bonneville--we both liked mid-size General Motors cars with V8s, rear-wheel drive, and automatic transmissions.

As sick as she was, the thought of spending more than a few hours on a car lot (or 5) filled her with dread. My suggestion was to point out cars she saw on the street that appealed to her, and then I would gather some (pre-internet) intel on them. Once we decided on the model we would decide on a dealer and go make the deal as fast as possible.
Several neighbors had Oldsmobile Cutlass Supremes, so we saw some variety of them.
Chevy had an SS version of the Monte Carlo at the time which was pretty NASCAR for a woman her age but she was still interested, especially since it was MY dream car.
Too bad they only came in black that year, and the whole point of the new car was to get rid of her black Dodge Mirada.
Texas sun + black car = sweat and discomfort.


So we decided on the Olds:
I had noticed (in parking lots) that some Cutlasses had vertical grills of two different styles, but that those from GUNN Oldsmobile @ 410 and Broadway had much better looking ones that were entirely 1/2" squares that looked a LOT better, so this is how we picked the dealer.

Once on the lot, a few colors were attractive to her but we both kept coming back to white. Not only is it 20 degrees cooler inside on a sunny day, but it's also more visible to other drivers at night--and I do a lot of driving at night.
We looked at one, but a quick scan of the window sticker revealed a weak powertrain.
By this time Gary had come outside the dealership and attached himself to my mom, so I went off in search of more white Cutlasses.
The third one had a 307" V8, and with a 4-barrel carburetor!
We took it for a test-drive, then were able to get my mom into Gary's air-conditioned office.
She had plenty of car buying savvy, so the trade-in negotiations took little time.
After low-balling on a financed price, she whipped out her checkbook and asked if the same price was okay if she paid in full.
She was very tired and sick, you see, so it was "Yes" or we walk, Gary.
Played him like a cello, even though he WAS a nice fellow.

The car was a real pleasure for us both as we spent too much time driving to hospitals, and was our game chariot when we finally saw our Cubs playing the Astros in a doubleheader in Houston. I kept it spotless and gassed etc for her, and even made tapes so she could enjoy her first car with a cassette deck.



When it became my car, I started by pulling off the rubber trim strips that protected the doors from parking lot dings. They ruined the clean lines of the body, and luckily were affixed with foam tape! Instant improvement in looks.
When my brother and I were getting ready for a trip to Colorado Springs to fly our first BIG rockets, I took the Olds to our mechanic in Universal City to get an oil change and otherwise check it over for the long drive.
They were also a big Goodyear Tire dealer, and showed me a damaged tire that wouldn't survive the drive.
Should have seen the look on that guy's face when I said "Okay, give me 4 of your 70-series (fat) Eagle STs, and how about putting them on a set of these American Racing® aluminum mag wheels?"
As a longhaired metalhead (who probably had a can of beer in my hand and was smoking in the waiting room--the '80s if you recall) it was nice to suddenly get the "Yes SIR!" treatment for a change.
I then took her to a brake and suspension shop and got a set of Monroe gas shocks plus some stiffer springs by TRW.
Goodbye Mushy Ride!!

Over the next few years I built a pretty killer sound system for that era, and my brother found me the computer chip that went into the Olds 442 version of my car.
The new chip meant that if you really put your ankle into the gas pedal, emissions and gas mileage programming went out the window.
Combined with my other mods, this car took-off like a rocket and could hold that speed in curves and corners.

It was a sweet "driver's" car, with that perfect combination of performance and comfort. I had installed a nice aftermarket steering wheel that was smaller and felt better in your hands, which added to the already responsive handling.


Around '95 some woman trying to "make" a yellow light nearly killed me in this car--peed blood for a week--but I still drove it in semi-wrecked condition with lots of plastic taped over the openings for another 5 years.
Eventually sold it as a parts donor after leaving it parked behind a friend's house for a few years with the windows gone.
Very sad end to a fine ride.

As much as I love my current Dodge Dakota and the Monte Carlo that was my first, this 1985 Oldsmobile was the great love of my life when it comes to cars.
My only regrets were that nobody made a decent dual-exhaust system for it when I had the money. I was all ready to make this final upgrade for the extra horsepower and external sound quality, but nobody stepped up to the plate.
Whenever I watch the show Overhaulin', THIS is the car I wish they would restore for me.