Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Road Worn and Weary

We decide to leave. We attempt to visit a zoo that I noticed on a billboard... that didn't pan out.. When we got there the zoo seemed to have oh, I don't know, something like 3 dogs and a cat.

So then we spot this....

...we obviously had to stop.

I got a Klondike Bar and myk bought a fake tattoo from a quarter machine and promtly slapped it on his neck.
It's still only around 5 in the afternoon, so we decide to go to Mohegan Sun. It only took us three hours to get there from Pennsylvania.

We lost some money, ate a big ol' meal then drove back to Massachusetts.

The Horror!

Dissapointing car show, ok.. so we decide to go grab a seat on the patio and check out some music.

COVER BAND! A cover band! A freaking cover band!

There is a difference between a band that peppers their set with a few good covers, and a band that throws one or two original songs in with an ENTIRE SETLIST OF COVERS!

They played "At the Hop." Seriously. That is hack.

This is me, watching a cover band...

...See how thrilled I look? See how I'm trying to remain expressionless so that I can appear somewhat polite?

The few, the proud....

Ok. Ok. So the car show was less then desirable. That's ok. There were still a few cars that were neat-o....


King of the Road

On Saturday, Myk, his girlfriend Allison, and I went to Pennsylvania for the Rockabilly Run in Scranton. From everything I've heard about it,.. it was supposed to be a BIG car show, with bands all day and vendors.. the usual. I also kept hearing that it's comparable to The Road Agents Rumble, so what better way to spend a Saturday?

So we piled into my shit-box car and drove the 5 hours to get there...





When we got there, we saw about a dozen or so cars out front. We figure that these must be cars that missed the cut-off date
or they're kit-cars or whatever and were denied entry. After we found some free parking we treked over to the event, and it turns out.. Those were the cars.. ALL of them. The whole car show had only 18 cars. That's less than a cruise night!

what?

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

The KING size.

I'm a sucker. I will purchase pretty much anything that has Elvis slapped on it. So last year when I heard about these Limited Edition Elvis-themed peanut butter cups that would be out this August, a glimmer lit in my eye.

I've finally found them for sale. They're peanut butter and banana flavored, for obvious reasons, and they aren't all that good. They aren't bad, but not good enough to purchase again. I like the fact that the package says "The King Size." Get it? See, Elvis is "The King," and the ones I bought are king-sized, so.. see get it? eh?


Anyway, I stole this picture from www.candyblog.net.

The Giant Pizza Playground

See this thing....

...it's a giant pizza that kids can play on.

This thing is located at the Smithsonian National Zoological Park, and according to their website, "At the Kids' Farm Giant Pizza Playground, kids can climb all over a colorful, rubber-surfaced pizza, crawl through a giant olive, move huge mushroom slices, and hide behind a tomato."

Doesn't that sound fantastic?

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Rust.

I love this. Pinstriping right over the rust. It looks so tough.


Pinstripes...

Random pinstriping spotted at the rumble...



Painless Paulie's Pinstripes...

In addition to pushing ink into skin, Paul has a wide range of artistic talents under his belt, including pinstriping. This is his friend's car, whose name escapes me, but anyway...



He wants to teach me to pinstripe, and I really want to learn under him, but I can't take on something else right now. I need to steamroll through all my other projects and THEN I'll have time to get into another hobby.

More Rumbling...





Heehee, my reflection in the metal...

Rumble Rumble Rumble

Saturday, Myk and I went to The Road Agents Rumble in East Hartford, Conneticut.

My friend Paul showed up with his bike, which was neat since I don't get to see him very often. I have no idea what sort of bike he has, but as soon as he hopped off, cats swarmed it to gawk. I suppose thats cool.

Since my camera got stolen and I haven't replaced it yet, Myk took all these pictures. I basically walked around all day and pointed at things for him to snap. It was sort of like having a personal photographer. It's odd, I go to a lot of car shows, but I know almost nothing about what is going on under these hoods. I just dig the clean lines and design aesthetics.

I love this car...


Car in car.. how artsy fartsy!


This color combination was really really great, reminds me of a creamsicle...




Oh yes! Music too! I got to see Levi Dexter perform, which was swell because I haven't seen him in person before and the last time he was on the East Coast was 1979 or 89 i believe. I was either not alive yet, or seven.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Dee Plane! Dee Plane!

I have an irrational fear of flying. It doesn't stop me from traveling, but it's annoying for those sitting around me on a plane if there is any sort of turbulence. The article below, from popular Mechanics, is really comforting. Especially the last line.

Safest Seat on a Plane: PM Investigates How to Survive a Crash
In the wake of nearly 200 passenger deaths in a Brazilian airliner accident, we take an exclusive look at 36 years’ worth of NTSB reports and seating charts. The best way to live through a disaster in the sky? Move to the back of the Airbus.

By David Noland
Published on: July 18, 2007

MYTH: It Doesn't Matter Where You Sit

"It's like a lottery to pick your seat."
-Nora Marshall, passenger survival expert, National Transportation Safety Board


"One seat is as safe as the other."
-Boeing Web site


"It's an age-old question. There's just no way to say."
-Federal Aviation Administration spokesman


"There is no safest seat."
-airsafe.com


REALITY: It's Safer In the Back.
The funny thing about all those expert opinions: They're not really based on hard data about actual airline accidents. A look at real-world crash stats, however, suggests that the farther back you sit, the better your odds of survival. Passengers near the tail of a plane are about 40 percent more likely to survive a crash than those in the first few rows up front.

That's the conclusion of an exclusive Popular Mechanics study that examined every commercial jet crash in the United States, since 1971, that had both fatalities and survivors. The raw data from these 20 accidents has been languishing for decades in National Transportation Safety Board files, waiting to be analyzed by anyone curious enough to look and willing to do the statistical drudgework.

And drudgework it was. For several weeks, we poured over reports filed by NTSB crash investigators, as well as seating charts that showed where each passenger sat and whether they lived or died. We then calculated the average fore-and-aft seating position of both survivors and fatalities for each crash.

We also compared survival rates in four sections of the aircraft. Both analytical approaches clearly pointed to the same conclusion: It's safer in the back.

In 11 of the 20 crashes, rear passengers clearly fared better. Only five accidents favored those sitting forward. Three were tossups, with no particular pattern of survival. In one case, seat positions could not be determined.

In seven of the 11 crashes favoring back-seaters, their advantage was striking. For example, in both the 1982 Air Florida accident in Washington, D.C., and the 1972 crash of an Eastern 727 at New York's Kennedy Airport, the handful of survivors were all sitting in the last few rows. And when a United DC-8 ran out of fuel near Portland, Ore., in 1978, all seven passengers who died were sitting in the first four rows.

Oddly, the five accidents that favored front-cabin passengers all occurred between 1988 and 1992. In the 1989 United DC-10 accident in Sioux City, Iowa, for example, the majority of the 175 survivors sat ahead of the wing.

There was just one crash in which passengers in the front had a pronounced survival advantage. The only two fatalities in a 1989 USAir runway accident at LaGuardia were both sitting in Row 21 in the 25-row Boeing 737-400.

Where detailed seating charts were available, we also calculated survival rates for various parts of the passenger cabin. Again, the trend was clear: The rear cabin (seats located behind the trailing edge of the wing) had the highest average survival rate at 69 percent. The overwing section had a 56 percent survival rate, as did the coach section ahead of the wing. First/business-class sections (or in all-coach planes, the front 15 percent) had an average survival rate of just 49 percent.

So when the "experts" tell you it doesn't matter where you sit, have a chuckle and head for the back of the plane. And once your seatbelt is firmly fastened, relax: There's been just one fatal jet crash in the U.S. in the last five-plus years.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Gateway Drug

I drive around Boston quite often. The city is full of HORRIBLE drivers, so I end up flip people off a lot while manuevering around the streets, in addition to swearing like a sailor out my window. (Hi Mom!)

But lately, it's not enough. I feel as if "flipping the bird" doesn't have the power that it once had. I need something more. Something with more meaning. Something that will really let a person know how much of a tool they are.

Right now, the only thing that elicits a big reaction anymore is blowing kisses to furious road-raged drivers. It makes them even more angry, which is endlessly amusing.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Hunting in the Sun.

Went to the Brimfield flea market this weekend. Brimfield happens 3 times a year, and I go everytime it rolls around. The July week of Brimfield is always tough to get through....it's just too hot out there in the fields to really enjoy yourself. It ends up being a battle against the sun and dehydration.

Anyway, I ended up finding 6 custard cups in my dish pattern, sold to me by the fellows that I bought the casserole dishes from back in May, a Chuck Berry gig poster, a few records and a few old magazine ads that I'm going to frame and hang in my kitchen.

pretty exciting.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Farewell, Mr. Butch


from bostonist.com...

"Boston Has Lost Mr. Butch

Harold Madison Jr., also known as Mr. Butch, died Thursday morning after his scooter crashed into a pole in Newton Square. Madison was pronounced dead at Brigham and Women's Hospital a short time after the accident occurred, according to Regeneration Tattoo, the Allston tattoo and record shop whose staff has long looked out for and after Mr. Butch.

Known throughout Boston circles as "the King of Kenmore Square" for more than three decades, Mr. Butch was recognizable by his dreadlocked hair, fondness for Miller High Life and musical stylings. He was often seen playing guitar in the Kenmore Square area - including gigs at The Underground and The Rathskellar - throughout the 1980s and 1990s. He relocated (read: was forced by police to relocate) to Allston in the late 1990s and had been there ever since. He was featured in a 2002 documentary.

A memorial service is being planned and has been tentatively scheduled for Monday."

As a former Allston-dweller, I am saddened.

"A shingle with a shimmy and a shake"

Last night I picked up three more vinyl and chrome barstools that i got off craigslist. They are in perfect condition. How fantastic.

A lot of people build tiki bars or midcentury bars in their basement "rec rooms".. but I don't drink, so I'm building a diner.

I hunt around for authentic midcentury furnishing for everything in my house, and stuff for the diner is no exception. I'm not opposed to repro stuff... my living room set is repro, but It's always nice to find authentic. These last three stools are repro, and the ones I picked up a few weeks ago are authentic. Luckily, they blend together nicely.

This diner will take a lot of work, Besides the actual construction of the lunch counter, I've got to rip up the carpet that's down there, throw down some tile and paint the walls. Some electrical re-wireing has to be done, as well as the addition of a sink, so that the space is actually functional as a "diner."

I like to throw shindigs, and this will open up a whole new area where people can mill around when I'm entertaining. Very exciting.

by the way... it's buttered toast with jam or jelly.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Damn.

Two Hundred and twenty bills later, Chris's car is out of the tow lot.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Wonderful.

I have really great neighbors that live across the street. We'll call them "Dan"" and "Mary." Dan and Mary asked me to watch their house for them while they vacation on Cape Cod from Friday to Tuesday. No problem. I've looked after things for them before, and will gladly do it again.

SOOOOOOO.... Some friends and I went to a demolition derby (which is a whole other story). We met up at my house to drive from there. When my friend Chris arrived, I told him to park his car in their driveway so that it would look like someone was home there. Fine. ( A lot of people seem to think that houses won't be broken into if a car is in the driveway because it looks like someone is home, I somewhat agree...it can't hurt anyway.)

We go to the derby, have a grand old time and then get back to my house around 12:30 Sunday night (or monday morning, whatever). As I'm driving down the street I notice Chris's car is gone. Oh good. It's been stolen. I hope Dan and Mary's house wasn't broken into!

Then I notice a light on in Dan and Mary's house. I call Mary.....

Mary says Dan came home early from their vacation, saw the car and went around to all the neighbors to see who it belonged to. I, of course, wasn't home. Dan thinks maybe it's mine. Mary tells him that I would have left a note or called them. (I didn't call them because I didn't want to interrupt their vacation, because they weren't supposed to be back until Tuesday. I was just trying to help them out by keeping a car there!) After much hemming and hawing, Dan had the car towed. The police showed up to make sure it wasn't a stolen vehicle and blah blah blah....it's at a tow lot.

I call Dan and get the number for the tow company and call 'em. They don't open until 8am. Oh wonderful. Chris is freaking out. I'm obviously going to pay to get the car out because this is all my fault, so there is no need for him to worry about it.
I suggest he sleeps in my spare room, so that we can go to the tow lot right when it open, because the tow lot is actually less than two miles from my house. Chris says he needs to sleep in his own bed and that I need to drive him back to his house in Dorchester. I would normally not mind at all, except now I have to go pick him up at 7 in the morning tomorrow so that we can be back at the tow lot when it opens.. it's now 2:30 in the morning.

This could all have been avoided if i simply called Dan and Mary to let them know I parked a car in their driveway. I was simply trying to make it look as if thier house wasn't empty!

Hopefully there are no problems getting the car out of the lot tomorrow...