Fri, 01 Jan 2010 14:00:14 +0000 editor@atariage.com (AtariAge Forums) IP.Blog 60
The following year, he measured between 24 and 26 inches from his head to the tip of what tail he had. How do I know this? I measured him personally. When he was about a year old, some of the employees of the day care realized he was being abused. Through a mutual friend, my first wife found out about the situation. She had owned a hedgehog which had died that year. Looking to fill the void with another exotic pet, she discussed the idea of owning a green iguana with me, and I agreed.

These guys grow to be something entirely different than the cute, wide eyed little lizards you see in the pet shop. I think that the cutesy appearance attracts too many people to the green iguana who don't realize what kind of commitment he or she requires. I, personally, have seen baby iguanas one only one or two occasions, both in pet stores. On one occasion, I was informed by the caretaker not to be startled, but there was a rather large green iguana behind me. I turned, of course, and was at eye level with a female iguana whose main body was the size of my forearm. Never mind the tail, she was a lot larger than I would have expected. My response was, "Hey! How are you today?" and I told the caretaker that I owned a green iguana myself.
In any case, since it's not apparent at first what kind of care they require, I think that anyone who's considering such an animal for a pet should be required to attend a class that teaches some of the tasks required, and should be required to perform those tasks before any adoption takes place.

My first mistake was to assume that our green lizard would be OK in the same cage we had for the hedgehog. Like Gracie, he could be fed outside his cage, and even spend most of the day outside it. He grew about half again the size he was when we got him, and the cage was far too small. His temper got short, and I don't think he was happy. So I considered building him a new cage.

My in laws had a wooden crate that was built around a rather large pallet. It looked perfect, since all I had to do was screen the open part, stand it up, and put wheels on it. Later when he grew even more, I planned to move the wheels to what was the back wall, flip the thing 90 degrees so the wall was now the floor, and build up the sides to a height of to 8 feet. The crate worked perfect, IMO. I built a custom top for it that was screened all the way around and had plenty of room for the perfect reptile to bask in the heat lamps. It took several weeks to build. Most of the time during the construction, our lizard was outside in the small cage just watching. When it was done and he moved in, I really think he was happier. I built a double door into the screen front, and often times we'd leave one door open. A few times he ventured out and stayed, but most of the time, that cage was home. Sometimes when he did venture out, he'd choose to bask in the sunlight coming through our patio door.

About a year after this, a cat had been killed nearby while defending her litter of four day old kittens from a raccoon. A neighbor had seen the aftermath and collected the litter after their mother perished. Six kittens survived for a days or so until she took them to the SPCA. Two were adopted right there in the parking lot, and she was told the rest would be euthanized if they were brought inside. My first wife adopted one of the kittens, and when the little fuzzball was brought home she got to know our iguana. The first time I saw them together, she was watching him as he basked in the sunlight, and he was looking warily back at her. There was no doubt in my mind that I ought to step in, so I spoke to them both and took the kitten into the next room.

I found out the hard way that I'm not able to live with cats. We let the cat go after a few months, and when we did I started to wonder if I was the right caretaker for an iguana. I'd done the best I could, but I did some research. What I found made me feel so guilty that I was sick to my stomach for several hours. I found out about the diseases iguanas can catch and what they can do to the creatures. I found out that they aren't pets you can just put some food in front of and not worry about. Sure, we had rescued him from the daycare, but we weren't the caretakers he needed.

Pets do the darnedest things, though. From the time he was "introducing" himself to the cat to his first out of the cage car ride to the time we had company over while he was out and he climbed to the top of some of the lumber I'd purchased for his new cage, he always had something up his sleeve. Reptiles are no less ornery than your average cat or dog, in fact,m they are probably more so.

The story does have a happy ending, though. Read on...

Around that time, a new person had started at my job, and I found out he had a tortoise. One day I asked him if the tortoise could use a companion. We spoke quite a bit about reptiles as pets, and it sounded to me like he really did have a heart for taking care of them. I brought him over to meet my iguana. They seemed to hit it off right away. I spoke with my first wife about it and she wanted to be assured that he could provide the required care. I was certain he could, so a few days later he came and picked up our iguana, the cage, and all the materials we had purchased for the iguana over the last couple of years. Part of me was very sad to see them leave, but I knew that he'd be taken better care of.

Sometimes I wonder how well our iguana is doing. I wonder if he has been happy as he's grown older, and I wonder if he's adapted to having half a tail. I certainly hope he's been happy. I hope he became friends with that tortoise.

Each of us owes a death. One day our turn will come. Each pet that is owned also owes a death. Although it is the way of things, that fact does nothing at all to console the pet's companions when the time comes. I do not think that there is much that can console the companions. See, we're not "owners" of a pet, we're merely companions. Granted, we generally have the food, heat rocks, puzzles, or whatever, but it boils down to the fact we co habitate in the same home. If one companion passes on, it hurts all of them.
Do, however, know this: For each death that is paid by a companion, there is a chance that another animal has become friends or even companions with another creature. I don't say that strictly in the sense that a human has adopted or rescued an animal, since you could have, say, a couple cats that meet and become friends and they'd know each other far better than a human would know either of them.
I think that death can bring new opportunities for the surviving companions. It can create a need or a void to fill for those companions, and they will fill it. Gracie's death created a void that even I needed to fill, and it was filled by changing the life of one green iguana from that of misunderstanding and abuse to one of friendship and curiosity. I still do miss that tiny, shy, little ball of quills sometimes. I miss being able to go home and talk to an iguana about how my day went, and I even miss the week old fuzz ball, too. Out of all that, though, came a successful life for a companion that most humans would not know how to live with.]]> Thu, 31 Dec 2009 22:56:00 +0000
That leaves the PS2, right? lol, wrong.

Today I realized that I had never, ever, listened to any CDs on my LaserActive. I figured what the heck, you know a CD is just a tiny laserdisc without the video, so why not give one a spin? I listened at first through the small sound system I have hooked up to it, the I thought I might wanna try it straight off the LA unit itself. Unfortunately, the volume control on the headphone jack produces a TON of static when I adjust it. It needs to be cleaned like a paddle controller, I guess.

Sound? It's kinda "thick" if you ask me. I'm used to a crisp, clean treble response and it's definitely not here. Bass response is good, and everything sounds clear. It's not going to win any awards for "best CD player", but it does get the job done.
It has an option for CD-G, too.
I spun up the Columbia House release of "Open Up and Say Ahh!" by Poison, and I also spun up the Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab disc of "Heart". I chose those two because I expect that they were both produced during the time the loudness war was beginning, but I expect an MSFL release to retain its full dynamic range. Right now, "Heart" is still playing on track 8, which is the remix of "Nothin' At All". The LA unit does not hide a little think sound and I almost daresay there's some tape hiss in there that its leaving intact. Of course, if you don't like tape hiss, you don't buy MSFL CDs, it's as simple as that. It really does sound like a new cassette being played in a well maintained, high quality tape deck with the Dolby B active. There's no distortion of any kind at all.

I wonder if the Sega pack has anything to do with the sound. I know it's awesome on Genesis games. I don't have a way to search discs without the Sega pack since I have no AAA batteries to power the standard remote that came with the LA.

One thing that surprised me is that with the Sega pack, a blue screen shows up while a CD plays. Without it, the screen is black.]]> Mon, 14 Dec 2009 06:03:00 +0000
The controllers suck, the switchboxes are hard to find, and all the good Activision titles from the 2600 now suck. What a waste of shelf space. I could fit half a LaserActive into that space and have useful features like karaoke and movie playback, and (gasp!) working controllers! The best thing? If I don't want it to act like a computer, all I gotta do is remove the PC pack! Ah, no wait...the big boys like the LaserActive and the Halcyon have another feature, too...automatic wallet thinning. You don't get that with a 5200 until you've shelled out for new sticks a time or two, now do you? I suppose one could hollow out the shell and use it to store PSP games, couldn't they?

Seriously, the more I am exposed to this sorry excuse of a game system, the more I realize what it is: Junk. There's only one reason one would want anything to do with this system, and it's an expensive green cartridge. Even that's been mitigated a bit, though, with the release of part of that same game on newer systems.

whatever happened to simplicity? You should just be able to plug in a game and go. Hit a switch or two, pick up a joystick, and play. Forget having to load some overlays, tell the thing you want to insert a cartridge, then tell it what's in the cartridge, I dunno, I ain't opened it up to count the little chips in there so how am I supposed to know? then tell it that no, you don't use a computer keyboard with this game...screw it! If I wanna play a 2600 game on my PSP, it's as simple as throw it in the system, hit a couple controls, and dump it straight into the Stella folder on my memory stick.

Even the Pro System knows it's a game console and not a computer. And the controllers don't break! It ain't got the best library of games, but when you hit the power switch, at least it runs!

I know I probably hacked off a fanboi or two, but face it: your system sucks...hard. I shouldn't have to have a computer science degree and an electronics background just to play a game. Average Joe doesn't have all that, and he sure didn't have all that back in 1982. Got some nasty response? Cram it in your cart slot, 'cause this jury is done decidin' that any system that takes up that much space needs to do something useful instead of collecting dust.

Rant mode off.]]> Sun, 29 Nov 2009 11:35:00 +0000
My wife is quite patient when things like this happen. As a result, when I find myself out of work, I try to do more house work than usual, and I try to make sure that the bathroom (and hot water!) is available to her in the morning before work and late at night when it's shower time.
So she says "we need to do laundry". I realize that the military seabags we use for that can hold 40 pounds of laundry each. I had one of them almost full. She also has been asking me since a couple of weeks ago to run another errand. lol, I wound up kicking the full seabag down the stairs with my good leg and dragging it roughly 100 feet to the laundry room. I stayed there a little too long, though, standing on my right leg while chatting with a neighbor. I had to sit down for a few minutes.
I swiped my wife's truck since it has an auto tranny and no clutch for that left foot to fight with. If trucks have feelings, mine is probably wondering why I don't love it anymore. I refuse to even touch the little Mazda, as there's not enough energy in either leg to kick it. And it has a clutch, too. On a side note, my Dad mentioned that he has a backhoe available to him and he's been crushing cars with it. I told him I wanted a door mat made, with four 16 inch Chevrolet rims, one at each corner, and the word "MAZDA" printed right across the middle where I wipe my feet.

OK, enough hatred for the one little Mazda truck. Want a truck? All you need is a letter and three numbers. F, one five zero. You could use a two in place of the one if you need a little bit bigger truck. That's "Lobo" to the Mexican folk, BTW. I'm sure you could use a similar combination like D one zero zero, or K two five zero zero, but I am a Ford man.

I am able to take semi normal steps today, albeit slowly. I wondered about that, being up off and on all night. As long as I don't try to flex my left foot, I am fine. I think it is allowing itself to flex some, though, or I may be getting used to having it wrapped up. It was quite stiff right behind my toes when I rolled out, but some of the stiffness is gone. I've been able to wear my shoe normally over the Ace wrap when I have to go somewhere.

I wonder something else. Would a metguard have prevented this injury? I've worn metguards before. They take a long time to break in, and they cause the shoe to be enormous. Shoes with metguards look, to me, about two sizes larger than they actually are. I already wear steel toes almost everywhere, so getting used to a metguard in an every day shoe would be a smooth transition. In fact, at one point my daily shoes did have metguards in them.
The incident would have probably pulled on the metguard, possibly breaking it, but it might have prevented my foot from flexing. Of course, the chance I would have fallen right then might be higher, too. I'd have probably shattered the toolbox when it hit the ground, so even if I didn't sprain a foot, I might have been injured by the plastic from the box or the tools inside.
I guess that question is academic, then. I don't know why I didn't think to just release the box. It's not like it would have smashed my toes or anything had it landed on me.

Anyway, there is a 7 Eleven about a block away. I limped there yesterday and got some soda pop. I will try to go there, against my better judgment, and get more soda after a while.

I faxed two resumes and made two calls today, all to places from the local job listings who need maintenance staff. Two are needing maintenance for larger office buildings. I have specific companies in mind that I'd like to work for, but I have not contacted them yet. I know one of them is hiring, but I do not know for what positions. If PARC Management is, in fact, hiring maintenance staff, I would like to apply for it. I should ask them.
My favorite two facility maintenance positions were in large, single structures. One was a nursing home, listed earlier in my blog, and one was a US Navy repair facility (SIMA Norfolk) where we did tons of remodeling around the turn of the century.]]> Wed, 16 Sep 2009 17:59:00 +0000
I was working overtime this weekend, and I chose to work both Saturday and Sunday evenings instead of through the day. that might have been a mistake since I really could have used sunlight coming through the patio door for what I was doing. Instead, I used a DeWalt work light.

I have been doing facility and residential maintenance off and on since I graduated high school. For the last two years I have done residential maintenance in apartments and nursing homes. The tenants you find in a typical apartment are not monsters or anything, and you make a few friends. Nursing home residents are simply awesome to work with. Each one from either job is a story all in themselves. Whereas most of the stories of low income dwellers make me irate (lay up in the bed, spread legs for anything that moves, have 3 to 5 kids, then soak the daddies for child support, the state for housing assistance, the utility companies for payment assistance, and the USDA for food stamps, then waste what coin you have on nice cars and electronics), some of them really are trying to make life better for themselves. Senior citizens are great, though, even if some of them can't acknowledge you or have something wrong that makes them temperamental, hostile, or the like. I remember incidents of some of them crying aloud like an infant, undressing themselves in front of everyone, and the like, but I can't feel anything but sympathy and yes, even some respect, for them.

I've digressed. What my last assignment boiled down to was that we were failing to meet guidelines set forth by the city and state housing assistance agencies in the time we were given by the property manager. When I say "we", I mean three, no four, different crews. Three were assigned to prepare apartments for new move ins. Such apartments have to pass a housing inspection if the prospective tenant receives any kind of assistance with their rent. The guidelines for those units are much stricter than for those whose tenants pay rent on their own. IMO, therein lies a grave injustice. Each person should receive the same quality apartment regardless of who is paying.

Three of the four crews quit. They did not receive payment for their services for several weeks and they walked away. I feel like the reasons given by the property manager were weak excuses at best. The fourth crew, of which I was a part, had two of its own members quit as well. In the beginning, we had roughly a dozen folks to do a job, in the end, we were pared down to just two. The other person that was left besides me was not paid for about a two week period. Once again, I feel like the reasons given were inadequate.

It seems lately that every day when I went into the office, the property manager raised her voice about something. Last week she raised her voice at me for getting 34 hours of overtime on the weekend, but if you read my thread about birthdays that I started on September 4th, you will know that I was most definitely not working that weekend. I explained this. The next day, she yelled at me again for wasting her 34 hours of overtime.
Another day she yelled at me because I was draining the swimming pool. Hello, it is too cold to swim. It developed an algae growth, and if that reaches a certain stage, the only way to clear it involves partially draining the pool. We were taught this in a course given by our city's department of health. It was also written into our instruction book that we were given to take with us for a reference.
I was tired of her attitude problem at this point. Up until a few days ago, I barely even knew the office staff. I would only go in there to get work orders for the day if I didn't already have my work list made out the previous day. I would go in there occasionally when I needed to purchase something so that I could get approval. Now I never got prior approval before purchasing tools, but I spent my own money on those. She asked that we meet in the office each morning, though, so I would go in there right when I got to work. The very next morning, and each one thereafter, this manager yelled at the only two people she had left in the maintenance department. I tried to reason with her, but I am sure I, too, raised my voice when I tried that. I am not one to sit be yelled at--I will almost always yell right back in the person's face.

Two weeks ago, we were assigned to prepare a particular apartment for move in. My co worked scheduled contractors to replace the tile and carpet on the floor on a Monday. It would be inspected Tuesday. We started Friday at 11AM. That is when I found out the unit had a massive water leak. We knew instantly we would be working all weekend. We got our saws out and got busy cutting modly sheet rock out. I removed the dishwasher and the water tank and cleaned up all the mess we had made. We built a new shelf for the aircon to sit on since the old shelf was rotten. The next day we came in and we painted half of the apartment. We hung new sheet rock and textured it. The day after, we did more painting, installed trim, installed the water tank, mounted the new shelf, and hung sheet rock in the hot water closet. A contractor asked us to leave part of the sheet rock down so he could re install the aircon easier. We expected that we would be able to work after or around the flooring contractor to install a door and fix a few other problems the apartment had. I was asked to purchase the door and request a reimbursement. I refused, based on the fact that many of our contractors were still awaiting their payment. I was then told that the property manager would provide money to purchase the door that day so we could hang it Monday. That didn't happen, either.
Monday I found out that the flooring contractor had been canceled. We were told that the deadline was changed on that apartment since we had many others to prepare. I assisted in preparing several of those and preparing some occupied units for inspections, and many of them passed. The few that didn't were due to things not being done that the property had planned to hire contractors for, such as flooring.
A contractor was hired to clean the apartment up. When I realized he had the only key to the place, I took it from him and copied it, then brought him the copy. He never returned it. I had not turned that original key in when I changed the locks, so as far as anyone else knew, it never existed, but the copy I made did.
Anyway, fast forward to Friday at 4:45 PM. The property manager asks me to go and purchase the door, but she handed me some petty cash to do so. I was told the new inspection date was today, Monday, so we had to finish up in there. I was aware that someone had been "borrowed" from another property to work in the particular unit. He had told me the day before that he wanted to paint. He did next to nothing in reality. I had already cut all the trim he needed, and there was very little sheet rock to hang up. He hung five piece of sheet rock and attached one piece of trim. The rest of the trim had been thrown away. He did not address any of the other items that needed done, such as replacing screens, hanging blinds, changing light bulbs, and whatnot. Even the trim and sheet rock he installed looked terrible.
I realized when I entered on Saturday I had my work cut out for me once again. I worked as much as I could finishing the installation, placing "mud" and tape onto the new walls and texturing them. I did some plumbing and electrical work. I tested and repaired appliances, save for the dishwasher which I could not save since the pump seal was leaking. I installed a towel bar, did some caulking, installed a smoke alarm, hung the new door, and installed the return air vent. I spent six hours each day, from 3 to 9 in the afternoon/evening, working to pass that housing inspection. I realized late yesterday that while I probably would not finish everything then, if I asked for help in the morning that two of us could finish up and the apartment would pass. I was growing impatient and I decided it was time to call it quits for the evening. I packed up my tools and began to load them into my truck.

My tool box's weight changes day to day depending on what I have in it. Yesterday it was full, so I estimate it weighed close to 100 pounds. It is bulky, so it requires two hands to lift even if it is nearly empty. I had loaded all the smaller items into my truck, and as usual I loaded my tool box last.
The ground has washed away somewhat near this apartment. To get to the parking lot, one must either walk through the washed out area, or take the longer route following the sidewalk and down a couple of steps. Sometime before the ground washed away, a cable of some sort was buried, but the erosion has exposed a 15 foot section of it.
With my 100 pound tool box in both arms, I failed to see that cable in the dark. I unknowingly planted my right foot on it and my left foot caught underneath it. The box began to pull me forward and down. I jerked frantically with my left foot, trying to free it, since my right was already behind me and I could not transfer that much weight (300 pounds total) back to it. I was falling. My left foot came free after a couple of seconds, but it still felt as if the cable was wrapped around it. I stumbled forward, the weight of the box pulling me further forward and down with each step. A few steps later, I crashed into a parked car and my box landed hard on the hood. I fell across the hood and my tool box. I lifted the box and realized quickly my left foot would not hold any weight. I did manage to hobble to my truck with the box, but the truck was only a few feet away. I locked everything I could into my truck and drove to the shop. I was able to unload one thing, my step ladder, so I placed it near the door, locked up, and called my co worker to let him know he would have work to do in the morning and that I might not be able to help.
I drove home, but I did have problems working the clutch in my truck. I wanted to go into work today, but I did not know if I would be able to drive. I decided that if I was still hurting and I could drive, I'd ask for the day off in person, but that if I could not drive, I would call in.
As it turns out, several spikes of pain shot through my foot and into my leg this morning. I could work the clutch to an extent, but for the most part I had to operate all three pedals with one foot. I called my co worker and told him I was not going to make it and that I intended to call the office next. They beat me to it--I got a call waiting while I was on the phone. They asked where the keys were and I explained that while their cleaners had lost the set they were supposed to have, a spare existed and I happened to have it. I told them I was having problems driving, but I would bring the keys in. I thought about swiping my wife's truck, which has an auto tranny, but I knew she needed it to get to work and we didn't have time to carpool before that inspection occurred.

I brought the keys to work and explained why I was limping so badly. I said I'd like to go home and put some ice on my foot. I turned to my co worker and told him there were a few things left and I'd left a list but forgotten something on it. That's when the property manager interrupted and her attitude problem showed back up. An argument ensued, and we both yelled at each other. I told her I was "tired of this" (meaning the situation, not the job), and she demanded my office and shop keys. We each said to one another that were were "finished with each other". I asked for my shop key back so I could get my tools and at first she refused. I asked again for either a key or someone to accompany me, and before I could threaten to cut a wall out of the shop or back through the door, she handed me a key.

It took a while for me to load everything up. There is a full set of DeWalt power tools including some saws and a vacuum cleaner, all of which was purchased separately, a step ladder, many hand tools, a small fridge that I generally hook up wherever I work, and three fans. Normally I could have it loaded in about ten minutes, but it took half an hour today. My co worker loaded the fridge. The whole bunch of tools would cost around $1500 to replace at retail if it were stolen or lost.

After that, I drove home to think for a few minutes. I called a personal injury lawyer to ask questions. My call was returned about half an hour later. I decided it was best to go get checked by a doctor. I went to the workman's comp clinic the parent company used, but they would not see me even when I offered to pay for it myself. I went to a minor emergency clinic where it cost me $160 to get examined and x rayed. My foot is sprained, but fortunately it is not broken. I was prescribed Loritab, which I am afraid to take, and 600 mg Motrin. I have over the counter motrin at home, which can be taken in 400 mg doses so I decided to go with that instead of paying for the stronger pills.
Ordinarily I would have stayed home today with ice on my foot, then gone back to work the next day or the following day. I made the decision to be seen to get a snapshot of the damage done before it healed up, mainly in case it was needed for the workman's comp claim.
Since nothing is broken, I expect I will be able to walk normally within a few days. Even if it was broken, I could have my wife drive me to work in the morning where I could sit at a desk and take or make calls, or lease apartments.

The last people I called were the unemployment folks. I explained all of this to them. They will determine if I am eligible for benefits. I see no harm in calling them and telling the truth, as making that determination is their job. They did ask if I was able to work, and I told them I felt like yes I can do a desk job even if they call me tomorrow with one. I explained that the doctor did not ask me to return.

The last thing I did before finally relaxing at home was to get the Ace wrap the doctor "prescribed" and get something to eat. That, 400 mils of Motrin, and some ice have helped greatly with pain.

I feel like I was not told what was expected of me this weekend. I expected to walk in on Saturday, hang a door, paint that door, install a vent, and leave, and that was it. I feel like I was terminated partly because of the argument, partly because the property manager did not think the apartment would pass inspection, and partly because I was injured. I feel like it is wrong to terminate anyone between the time of an on the job injury and the time they get treated. At the least, I feel like even if the person was wrong, they should be treated, then terminated and possibly billed for the treatment.
The lawyer explained that I should be able to receive payment for several things, including the days I am out of work because of this (this possibly includes the time I'm out of work over losing the job, too), and I should be able to recover the $160 I spent at Fast ER care today. I did not ask how his fees would be paid.

If I can sue for damages, should I? On the one hand, all I really want is my money back for the doctor and the lawyer, and payment of several days' wages that I would normally have been able to earn if I was still working. On the other hand, if I were able to sue for damages, and I did so, perhaps such a lawsuit would cause the parent company to think about their workman's comp practices and terminate those who do not follow them. It might not help me much, but it could help someone else avoid this kind of thing in the future. Even if I didn't win anything at all, it still might prevent this happening again.

As for this board, the questions are largely rhetorical. I have asked the to my wife for real, and I may ask some other family members and some friends what they would do.

On the bright side, the $160 I spent today is less than what I would have spent on one month medical insurance the last time I was offered it. In addition to that, chances are that even if I landed a new job tomorrow, the start date would be a few days later which would give my foot time to heal. My wife, of course, still has her job, and we have savings to help out.]]> Tue, 15 Sep 2009 03:56:00 +0000
It takes about a month for the DHS to start the allotment for child support from my paychecks. If I send it manually during that time, they never start it. That allotment includes a court order on whichever employer to pay child support. I tried simply giving the case info to one employer and they took the money out of my check but didn't make all the payments to the state. So that's out--with the order in place if that happens again, the employer is in trouble. I also tried contacting the DHS myself with my new employment info, and their response was to freeze my bank account and threaten to suspend my driver's and professional licenses. The never suspended any licenses, and they didn't take any money from my bank, either! They did that strictly to halt the use of my debit card and to stop me from withdrawing any money that I'd had direct deposited into my account.
No, instead of letting me help them out by telling them who to call for support payments, they'd rather cut my cash flow off without even a moment's notice.

I'm not a fool, though. The horror stories are all over the news, so they didn't stop anything financial on my end.

Fast forward. I get hurt on the job. It's minor, but I still go to the doctor for a simple diagnosis and some pain killers. This happened over a month ago, and I requested nothing more than to see a doctor and get painkillers. Today I get this letter in the mail saying "Since you owe back child support, we have a lien on the settlement you got from worker's compensation."

WTF?!? Excuse me, but it's not my fault the economy went south and I lost my job!! It's not my fault that you people didn't tell me until two months after the judgement was entered that I even owed child support! For crying out loud, when that judgement was made, I was still married to the kid's mom! How the heck am I gonna pay child support to my own wife?
Now here's the best part, what if I had been hurt bad and unable to work? How the heck would I live then? What, would they get 100% of the annuity payments? Man send that stuff to my 401(k) plan. I might not get it now, but the DHS sure as heck can't touch that.

This kind of thing really ruins the good memories I had of that marriage, and it does little good for the relationship with my daughter. It doesn't affect me at all financially, since I had no plans to sue or seek anything more than (everybody say it now) a trip to a doctor and some pain meds.

What is the DHS smoking? Excuse the **ll out of me for having a child...like most married folks do. Excuse the blank out of me for being a "deadbeat" dad...<total sacrasm> sure I have three Jaguars, a Porsche, and a Ferrari in the driveway of my giant mansion with the pool and the nice home theater, maid service, ten acre lawn, and the works. </sarc> Crap I'm just trying to stay above water here.

<end rant>

I ain't trying to avoid support here, I'm just trying to keep the ____ DHS off my back.
Why can't I just be a normal father? I'm OK now, just a couple games of something and I'll be fine...just had to rant...

OK, this is too personal for a public board, enjoy my blog.]]> Fri, 24 Jul 2009 01:18:38 +0000
When I was still pretty young we took a trip to California to visit my great aunt. While she was managing her restaurant therein Van Nuys, we were touring and going places like Universal Studios and Disneyland. The second day were were in Disneyland, something happened to the Matterhorn Bobsleds and folks had to walk down the mountain.

A few summers later, I was at Big Splash water park in Tulsa, OK, and I got stuck on one of the slides. It took me so long to work my way along that the person behind me crashed into me from behind.

Years later someone misjudged their tolerance and caused the Busch Gardens Europe crew to have to "perform minor housekeeping duties" about Apollo's Chariot. It was more than minor. My train sat in the block brakes for a good ten minutes in the cool Virginia evening while they cleaned up.

Just today as I climbed the seven story tower known as "the Bermuda Triangle", I saw a kid on the sidewall of one of the tube slides, and his tube was on the other side. He flipped over lengthwise before hitting the splash pool below. He got up and made his way to the exit no worse for the wear.
The tower itself has five slides, so you get to choose the quick way down. It's clearly visible from the freeway, which adds to the fear factor when you get to the top and see 18 wheelers going by at 60 MPH. Three of the five slides exit into a splash pool. The total drop on the purple, yellow, and blue slides is 70 feet, and riders get to speeds of 35 MPH. Purple and Blue are mostly enclosed, Yellow is not.
Then there's a green speed slide. It's smooth and fast, and reminds me of Apollo's Chariot since you can literally feel the speed on both rides, yet there are zero bumps of any kind.
And then there's my personal favorite ride in the park...the Acapulco Cliff Dive, which is a white speed slide that goes west from the tower. Riders go about 1/4 of the way down and then level off before the main drop. The slide has water dumping into it in the level section, which gives the rider a pretty good boost...enough that most people over 150 pounds catch several inches of air, then smack down onto the fiberglass at nearly full speed. I always catch air, and that's the main draw! I actually got some battle damage from it today, too. I walked away from my first ride with blisters in two places and almost a third. I didn't care--I went back for more! And I got to freak people out like I used to do with new Alpengeist riders...
"Is it scary?"
"Yep. You look out over this green slide and all you can see is air. You can't see the slide at all. It's 64 feet to the ground, and rumor has it that you exceed 60 MPH on the way down."
"How about the white one?"
Now the fun begins...after I have convinced them that only suicidal people would ride down the tower in any other way.
"I come off of that slide every time I ride it."
Serious, three guys were hanging on to the fence watching folks drop down the Cliff Dive. When one person went right before me, they were all like, "Whoa! That dude came off! Did you see that!?" I told 'em I was gonna come off, too...just you hide and watch!

A couple of days ago I saw a kid lose his life jacket when he hit the water coming off of another slide in the same park. He'd been told he shouldn't slide with it, but he ignored the guards and went anyway. They got him out of the splash pool and he went on his way. The slide is called Cannonball Falls, and he went on the more intense green slide. There's an eight foot drop into the splash pool, and when combined with the speed built up from the slide itself you hit the water with a lot of force. It knocked his life jacket off of him.

Fortunately I have never seen anyone hurt on any kind of ride, and don't really think about it much before I ride. Matter of fact, I'm going on the Bermuda Triangle again the next chance I get, even though I usually hit the wall several times no matter which of the five slides I ride down.
All that said, though, I love extreme roller coasters, but I'm too chicken to get on an extreme water slide...you know, the ones where you gotta pick your shorts out when you get up, right? There just ain't nothin' between my pasty self and the ground if anything goes wrong.

I was watching some POV films from several rides. I gotta go get on Griffon some day--that looks like fun! They said it has a 205 foot height to it. I also watched POVs of some old favorites like Hypersonic XLC and Volcano. I love the way when volcano launches, you can't see what happened to the hapless riders but you can hear them scream. I watched some videos of the Steel Lasso, and I can't wait to get on it when I get the chance. Ditto for a wooden coaster called the Wildcat. Normally you wouldn't see me get worked up to go to Frontier City, but it's beginning to pick up a little bit.

So I have officially ridden everything in White Water Bay. Not this year, mind you, as there are some SBNO rides in the park and I haven't worked up whatever it is to ride the Big Kahuna. I rode that once and I didn't really like it. But I have been on everything there.

What really cracked me up was when a guard told me that I could go down the Cliff Dive head first. I knew she was joking, but then told her that such a ride existed where the Big Kahuna sits today. None of the guard believe me when I tell them of the All American Plunge, and of the times we watched folks skip across the splash pool and crash into the pile of inner tubes. This guard didn't believe me, and she also didn't believe that the park used to have a mini golf course.
I think the Cliff Dive was built to replace the All American Plunge, and I gotta say the Cliff Dive is a worthy ride, but it'll never replace the feeling of "oh $**t" that the Plunge could give when its gate opened and you were dispatched head first on those special kick boards.

Seems that the greatest rides of all sometimes don't make it. Rest in pieces, Hypersonic XLC and All American Plunge. What's real sad, though, is that they were never within 1500 miles of each other...and they shoulda been in the same park!]]> Thu, 18 Jun 2009 03:16:59 +0000
In other news, I gotta pull the blower resistor out of my Mazda and bench that to see if I can get all four fan speeds working, and I gotta bench an SCPH-1001 PlayStation to get the drive going. Then if there is time I need to bench my wife's VCR and see how badly the VHS deck is worn out, and if it can be fixed. Common honey, like that you'd get from a bee (unless you got venom instead...owwwitch!) works wonders in lieu of belt dressing for that kind of thing. I'll pass on the bees, though--you can keep them! ]]> Thu, 26 Feb 2009 00:06:50 +0000 Today I made a list of ALL of my work history. From the after school tutoring in 1990 all the way up to my last job.

Last week I had a job fair and an interview. The job fair was simple, and I spoke to a manager about the position they had, however it had already been filled. The interview was something else--they offered me $12 an hour to supervise the maintenance crew in a high rise apartment. I'm scared of heights, and I was too chicken s**t to go on the roof of a 15 floor high rise even for a tour of the place. I will pass on becoming a bloody spot in the middle of May Avenue in any other fashion than jaywalking. Serious, like the only things you can see from up there are the two more high rise buildings, the New York Life tower, and tornadoes. I never went back, and they relisted the position on the internet.
I've spent many an hour on the roof of a place called SIMA Norfolk. It is, in case the name doesn't give it away, in Norfolk. However, that roof was about 40 feet up and had internal access from about three places inside the structure. It was pretty big, too, I'd guess there's probably half an acre up there to walk around on. I had zero trouble getting up and down and working on stuff up there. But 15 floors is about, oh, 200 feet by the time you add the elevator shack and the basement which I think is partly above ground. And the footprint is nowhere near half an acre. That plus acrophobia equals one scared senseless huan being. Maybe for $15 an hour I'd do it, but they never offered that.

Anyway, so I am back into the job searching mode. I never left it. I need to call Grace in Del City tomorrow and try to work from that end to see if my former employer is really going to create the position I'm supposed to get or if I should just forget it.

I benched a set of headphones this week. That is, I put them on the workbench for repairs. They were Optimus Pro 25's, now they have only the Pro 25 wire/inline volume, a Pro 35 diaphragm on the right and a Koss Porta Pro diaphragm on the left. One diaphragm is coated with metal and the other is plastic. Shockingly, they sound great. I used a Pro 35 headband, which clamps the phones solid to the wearer's head. It's not a comfortable band. It trades comfort for sound quality.

Also I'm trying to roll the score and difficulty in Subterranea. Every time I get it out, I get a little further then I hit a brick wall with it. I got shot four times in less than ten seconds at one point. I didn't have a chance to move or shoot back--four times over an enemy appeared from the right and blasted me. I slammed the stick down (something rare for me) and hit reset. After the next game, I took a five minute break. I played for about fifteen minutes after that then stopped. I've acted out smashing the cartridge with my bard hands, throwing the cartridge, burning the cartridge, wiping my butt with the instructions, burning the instructions, and ripping the instructions to ribbons. It felt good. I didn't actually do any of that, but acting it out felt great! ]]> Tue, 24 Feb 2009 08:42:09 +0000
First, I managed to acquire some very nice 2600 games late last year. Among them is a near mint condition Fishing Derby and a near mint CIB Fire Fighter.

So I'm looking for Missile Command in my stack of carts yesterday. I don't remember if there was a text release of this or not, and my Atari picture labels are stacked under three layers of games. Time to go digging... first thing I did was spill about half a dozen carts. I picked them up immediately. See, Intellivison carts don't stack straight. I don't have an Inty, so why on Earth I have 20 or 30 games for it is beyond me. I don't even know if any of them work!
I thought I'd just stack a handful of 2600 carts atop those, but no, the 2600 carts took a spill, and the dang Inty carts stayed put! Long story short, the 2005 and 2007 AA Holiday carts were fine, (dunno if Stella's Stocking boots, but it should), Parker's Frogger was fine (if it had been Starpath's, I would have saw red), but Fishing Derby had some kind of rattle in it. I looked down in there and two large chunks of plastic were missing by the edge connector. The board was loose, too, and this cart was almost mint! #!?@
Looks like I had work to do, and I'd been meaning to strip the Activision glue from that cart for a while.

A bit of history on it, though:
I got this cart in a Craigslist lot. It's the only respectable copy of Fishing Derby I'd found in the wild in the last four years. I had to wait a week to pick the lot up because its owner was on vacation. It was worth it, though, for the number of games that were in excellent shape. I gave my "old" copy of Fishing Derby to my brother along with 50 other games, a ton of controllers, and my light sixer.

Anyway, I heated the label but it just refused to peel off. I finally dug up a corner of it to get it started, then heated it and it came right off. The label was fine, but the damage to the shell is extensive. The supports that hold the ROM board in place were shattered, the flat piece that is behind the edge connector was broken, and the bottom half was cracked lengthwise all the way to the Activision logo. I used cyanoacrylate super glue to put everything back together meticulously. The left screw post was also shattered, and I put that back together with the glue. I stripped the Activision glue from the shell and replaced it with Elmer's school glue stick.
In the end, I got the whole thing back together and the only way to tell it's been damaged is to look down beside the edge connector. The glue spots on the bottom of the case are barely visible, as is the damage to the label were I had to start it peeling off on one corner.

So next was the Fire Fighter cart, whose minty label was peeling off. Turns out that all I had to do was heat it up and the original glue stuck it down again.

Looks like I've got what it takes to fix dead games. I've worked my magic on a 7800 Ms PAc Man cart that was shattered during shipping, and I've also repaired PSP games with destroyed shells. The new shells even still have the UMD sticker in the middle! (this reminds me that I need to transfer the sticker from my sratched beyond repair ATV OffRoad FUry game to my GTA:LCS game...) I've also brought dead CD games back to life. I can't do a thing about CD rot...yet, but give me time and I'll have that one licked, too.

My previous hardware projects were fixing the Power and Reset switches in my 7800. I have to do the Puase and Select switches now. The fix I used does not require replacement parts--I work directly with the switches that are there. Also, I did some work on my Heavy Sixer. Other than that, I also worked on a truck.]]> Mon, 16 Feb 2009 05:39:13 +0000