As I mentioned previously, I joined the Vintage Chevrolet Club of America, Indiana chapter. A club my father was a member of for many years. Each chapter sends out a monthly newsletter. The name of the Indiana chapter’s newsletter is The Powerglide, coming from the name of an infamous 2 speed automatic transmission.
The issue for July just came out and I was mentioned in it. This makes me happy on many levels. Not just for me, but for my old man.
I’m hoping on taking the Camaro to the next meet, which is coming up soon.
I went to many meets with dad when I was younger, and a few as an adult. When he was a member he always told me the Camaro was too new to be a part of the club, which I can only assume has changed since then. Most of the club remembers his truck however, which he took everywhere. One of these days I’ll get it road worthy again and take it to a meet so these guys can see it one more time.
I’ve been working hard on the Camaro as of late, with a new headliner and sail panels installed. Last night I installed a new speedometer driven gear and housing. I hope this resolves my issues with the speedometer and odometer.
My next issue is just as mechanical, as on my trip to Evansville I only got roughly 10mpg. I have a new O2 sensor that I’m going to install. I’m also going to plug the cold start sensor back in. The car seems to be running really rich at times, which I believe is the primary cause of this increase in fuel usage.
I also have a Holley Adjustable Fuel Pressure Regulator just in case. I’m going to test the fuel pressure to see what numbers I’m getting. If they are off I will be installing it.
Yesterday, I ceremoniously broke ground on a monument to be unveiled this fall, along with the rest of the Janeway Collective. The event was covered by our local newspaper and an award winning photojournalist who runs his own operation, aptly named The Bloomingtonian.
Roughly one year and three months ago two groups of people working on the same goal merged, forming the Janeway Collective.
What is this monument? It’s a future birthplace monument for captain Kathryn Janeway, from the Star Trek Series Voyager. The creator of her character Jeri Taylor, grew up in Bloomington and graduated from IU. She in kind, made the good captain’s birthplace the same.
James T. Kirk has one, why can’t she? Personally I think all of the Star Trek captains should have monuments. This seems to be a huge subject these days.
If you have not watched Voyager, it’s an inspiring piece of small screen cinema. Stuck in the delta quadrant, so far away from home that it would be impossible to make it back home in their lifetime. Through her strength in leadership and courage to think outside the box, they made it back.
An inspiration to scientists and astronauts, Janeway deserves this honor. In a world where women still make less than men on average. Where what they do with their bodies are often controlled and legislated by men, Janeway deserves this honor.
This monument is a dedication to women everywhere. Through the ages, you have been the giver of life but treated as less than. I am proud to be a member of a group who publicly states this is not the case. As a father of two daughters, these subjects are important to me. They should not be valued based on their biological functions but on their contributions to our world.
In this time where our country is seemingly divided on any issue there is, this is the singular thing that makes me happy to be a part of society. It is the only thing that reinforces that there are people who celebrate the good parts of life, instead of focusing on the bad.
After the ground breaking, the collective went to the secret location where the bronze bust is being held to view it. For most of us, this was the first time. It’s absolutely beautiful. However, we are keeping images of it a secret until the official unveiling on October 24th, 2020. It’s the most excellent birthday present I could ever receive.
I cannot end this post without giving thanks to other members of the Janeway Collective. Peter & Mary, for their undying love and passion for “making this so.” Mary M. (MAM), for your spiritual guidance and wisdom through all of this, always coming to the table with mindfulness. Adam, for your connections in the artist community that brought thoughts to reality. Melissa, for your abilities in helping us plan and reach out to the hospitality trades. Josh, for your wicked abilities in web building, marketing and showing me a different way to do things. And to all other members of the Janeway Collective, who much like me pitch in and do what we can to help this come to light.
Two days ago was a holiday to celebrate the fathers in our lives. It’s a hard day for me, as my father, grandfather and papaw were all heroes to me. With each one passing, my heart broke more, my optimism for the world vanishing. Let me tell you about those men, and why the loss of them continues to break my heart each and every day.
My Father
My own father grew up without his father. His brother, my grandmother and his own grandparents was his family unit as a child. My grandma worked at the Stone City bank in Bedford, walking to work every day. From the ways my father described growing up, they were poor. Regardless, they always had a roof over their heads and always had a meal to eat. If my father wanted something he had to work for it however. He and my uncle had paper routes and as my father grew up, he mowed lawns for money.
This is all you need to know to know the path my father took for the rest of his life. His number one goal in life was to not be poor, and to provide whatever he could to his family. Due to his “having nothing” as a child, he was also a closeted hoarder. When he passed away, I got rid of 500 pounds of “things” he had collected that were in the bed of his pickup truck.
When I started Civil War Re-enacting, dad jumped right in.
His faithful devotion to his job was something I always admired, and picked up after a hard start in adulthood. His desire to give his child (me) the best things in life, is the same thing I do with my own. Money is often no object, as long as those I love are happy.
Education was important to my father. He graduated high school in 1969, and immediately went to Indiana University, but never got a degree. Instead choosing a career in industry. It wasn’t until that career crumbled for all that he enrolled in Ivy Tech State College and achieved a degree in computer networking. When he passed away, he was a student in film studies at Indiana University while working 3rd shift as a custodian in the same building I would eventually start working in. He was tired, but he was also happy.
He never pushed me, but gently guided me in the subject of education. When I got my GED at the age of 17, he told me to go enroll at Ivy Tech and not worry about the costs. He didn’t tell me, but he secretly paid for all the tuition and books. I’ve given that same opportunity to my oldest daughter. Education hasn’t been an easy subject for she and I.
There’s a phrase that circles social media that sums up my father quite well, “My father didn’t tell me how to live; He lived and let me watch him do it.”
My Grandfather
Born not too far away from where Will Rogers was, he was a free spirit in a way that is hard to understand if you aren’t close to native culture. Growing up in the dust bowl era Oklahoma, it was a new state – and for the most part, still Indian Territory. A radio operator in the Navy during WWII, who installed radar systems on the pacific fleet prior to Pearl Harbor, he met my grandmother in Washington D.C. while on shore leave from that post.
She nor him could decide on where to live. She hated Oklahoma, and he was not a fan of Indiana. He worked at RCA where they made radios at the time, and always stayed in the field of electronics. My grandparents split and he built a new life back at home. While there, he built a career and a new family. He was the radio & TV repairman for the entire area, back when that was a thing.
A soft spoken man, I can still hear the way he spoke with a bit of a southern draw but soft volume.
All of his electronic equipment made a young boy really fascinated with technology. A fascination that lives on to this day. Sadly, many of the lessons he taught me on his oscilloscope and other equipment have long since left my mind.
The first time he visited us in Indiana, I was awestruck.
A humble man, never one to boast or brag. I appreciated that about him. He named all of his trucks “Johnny Brown.” I was fortunate to own the last one for a period of time, Johnny Brown IV. A deeply spiritual man too, although I never got to see that side, he was a faithful member of the Assemblies of Yahweh.
His generation, much like mine saw tremendous amounts of change. Change in technologies and society. The world he grew up in was significantly different than the one he saw his later years in. I was fortunate to actually know him, I don’t think any of his other grandchildren did. I spent a week with him in 1996, just he and I. I would give anything to recapture that time with him.
Due to his influences in my life, I have always taken the Cherokee culture he provided to me seriously. Never doubting but sometimes questioning the mason jars of herbs and roots he kept in his kitchen. I also give him credit for the paths in technology many members of our family have decided to take. My uncle became a mainframe programmer in 1968, I began working in IT support in 2008 and my cousin does the same but with cellular phones and technologies.
My Papaw
This one is the hardest of all to write. He passed away when I was 7 years old. That said those years were very influential on me. He wasn’t my biological grandfather. He wasn’t my adopted one (yes I had one), no he was just the man who was married to my memaw when I was born, and took the job as his own.
Completely different than my own dad or grandfather, he grew up locally in Smithville, a 1957 graduate of Smithville High School. He was a “greaser” when he was young. His family name, well known in the area.
In her final years, my memaw gave me a few things including his class ring.
From a young age, we did things that are quite frankly hard for me to do even now because of the memories. We would spend hours “mushroom hunting.” My memaw would give us a bunch of bread sacks and he and I would just go walking in the woods, for hours. I’ve never been a fan of those mushrooms, but I’d give anything to spend that time with him again.
We spent countless weekends fishing. With him buying me my very first fishing pole. We would fish at Lake Monroe and several pay lakes in the area. On one occasion while at a pay lake I thought I had caught a fish. Once I got it reeled in however, it was quickly discovered that it was a bobber (a device used to keep the line from sinking to the bottom). We talked about that until my memaw passed away. One of the few things I have of my papaw’s is his tackle box, which is just a repurposed lunch box.
We would often catch a whole stringer full of bluegill and sunfish. Papaw and I would clean the fish, and then memaw would fry them up in a coordinated assembly line. They were wonderful times.
He taught me lessons of hard work, as their property had lots of trees. To mow, we had to pick up all of the sticks that had fallen, to ensure the mower would not get damaged. We would spend countless hours upon hours doing chores of little note really, but that time he spent with me will forever be priceless.
Their house was always a safe space for me, to the point that one time I even “ran away” and rode my bicycle 6 miles to their house. Completely exhausted, I slept for hours once I got there. That house was always my safe space as a child.
Summary
These three men all provided me with gifts that made me who I am today. They all provided me with a stable, solid foundation of what it means to be a good man. Their losses also haunt me each and every day. I’m surrounded by my fathers things, my grandfather is always on my mind and in my spirit. His grave is the one grave I have to visit. I’m sad that my papaw didn’t get to see the next 10 years, where the family exploded with babies and happiness.
While I know death is a part of life, nothing prepared me for it. I feel ill prepared to give those gifts to my children and this next generation of humans. I feel stuck emotionally and spiritually. To me, Father’s day is a day that brings me immense sadness on a level that my vocabulary simply cannot describe.
I hope this period of my life provides me with the tools to cope, and the tools to break out of this shell of continual penance I seem to be putting myself through. I somehow feel to blame and/or destined to follow the same paths my literal forefathers took. It’s wearing on the soul.
Saturday, I took the Camaro out for a test. I needed to go to a friends to check on the progress she has made on quilts made out of my father’s clothes. She lives just north of Evansville.
I ran into / noticed several issues that I’m posting here for my own sake.
That temp right? Completely normal.
I have the cluster in, but it is only connected to the speedometer cable and electrical plugs for the cluster. Due to vibrations, etc. it likes to pop out, rendering some of the gauges useless at times.
The odometer and trip odometer are not working right – at all. It listed my trip to Evansville as 500 miles. The round trip added 3 thousand miles to the odometer. Part of this is because I was unable to get the right gear in the transmission. That is the reason why the cluster isn’t installed completely. The speedometer is also still off, by 10 to 20mph. This is a work in progress. I got lucky and was able to source a proper speedometer gear. Once I get it – the odometer, trip odometer and speedometer should theoretically function properly. They may need some calibration work however. If I cannot get them right, I have been in contact with a company in Rhode Island that specializes in this exact work.
The “fam jam” to use today’s vernacular. Dad’s vehicles and his son, their safekeeper.
The cruse control is not functional. I had never tried to use it before. I have a replacement control arm. I have read in many forum posts where someone has replaced the control arm and it resolved the problem. I will wait until I have done this to dig any further on the manner.
The Service Engine Soon kept coming on about every 30 miles or so. Whatever fault is happening, it is not being stored in the computer as a simple restart clears it. Which leads me to my next issue.
The car is running rich. It’s not overtly evident all of the time, but after a while you can smell fuel. I used 20 gallons on a 200 miles trip. This car should be getting around double that. I’m going to start by replacing the O2 sensor and installing an adjustable fuel pressure regulator. This car is over 30 years old. It’s quite possible the rubber diaphragm that controls fuel pressure is bad. The OE regulator is known for not providing enough pressure, hence the adjustable option. We will see where this road leads me.
I rode all day with the t-tops off. It provided wonderful ventilation but also gave me a little too much sun. When I put the t-tops in their storage bag in the car, I noticed the stitching that holds the bag’s zipper on has rotted away. I need to get this repaired. It will require someone with the equipment that can handle such thick material.
Today, on the ride home from my girlfriends, it was raining. I rolled the window down a little to get some ventilation and noticed some water leaks. It’s something I will keep my eye on. Some well placed RTV or silicone will probably resolve the issue. It is not a major issue however. T-top cars are notorious for leaking water.
After making several mistakes during the process of trying to re-upholster the headliner and sail panels on the Camaro, I made a mistake that couldn’t be repaired. Even my uncle (who has my drivers seat) said, “Your screwed.”
My first mistake? Choosing the wrong color.
I thought it was darker than it should but also thought it would lighten out. I covered the sail panels and decided it was too dark. Removing the material and foam ended up being quite painful.
Once I got the new material, which ended up being about halfway between the original color and faded color, I cut a piece to match what I had pre-cut using the old color.
When I tried to put it on a combination of wind and elements caused me to rush myself. This caused ripples in the finish. When I tried to adjust – it ripped the fiber board backer. Causing deep gouges that would obviously be noticeable. I felt defeated, but at least I tried. I had spent $150 on the fabrics and adhesives. I ended by ceremoniously cutting up the failed attempt and throwing the remnants in the trash.
So I went for the hail mary, I went on Hawk’s Motorsports website, and ordered a full kit. Including a completely new headliner, backed by ABS and covered in fabric, new sail panels and visors. All in “Medium Dark Grey.” The interior color of the car.
I’m not sure how much I’ve mentioned Hawk’s on my blog, but they are a lifesaver for the restoration and repair on these cars. There are some parts that they have reproduced and can only be found through them. I’ve purchased a few of these items. They are not always the cheapest – but they are the big name when it comes to 3rd Generation Camaro’s and Firebirds.
I was disappointed to see when ordering this kit, the website saying, 5-6 weeks for delivery. I accepted it however, as there wasn’t much else I could really do. That disappointment turned around when I received a call from them today. The guy told me that they’ve had issues with their supplier due to COVID-19 but should have my order ready to be shipped out in a week.
That’s incredible! Now my Camaro won’t be so bare on the inside as it is now. With all of this gear and speedometer drama, I really needed some good news.
I took the Camaro into a shop this week. I’m planning on taking it on it’s first real cruise this weekend, to Evansville. A friend is working on quilts for me that are made from dad’s clothes. We need to catch up, and talk about this, make sure it’s going as originally planned. Then I will make a stop at Taco John’s – which is a requirement. We miss our Taco John’s.
I came out of the shop with more questions than answers. I took it there for two specific reasons, to install new struts in the front and to change the speedometer gears in the transmission.
There were no issues with the strut installation. The car rides much better now, having new shocks and struts all around has made a world of difference.
Those gears however? The mystery just seems to deepen like the story my stepmother told me.
The top gear is the gear I wanted installed, the bottom is the one that was in the car.
My buddy Dave works at the shop, and sent me the photo above. He and the mechanic were a little confused. I sure was too. These gears are different, I had never seen such mention of them, and all of the literature I had read on the subject stated Camaro’s didn’t get VSS (vehicle speed sensor) gearing until 1990, this is a 1988. From the color coded way these gears are, this tells me that is a 44 tooth gear.
The other gear they replaced goes on the tail shaft of the transmission. The one in the car is red. I had them place a grey one in it. The red has 17 teeth, the grey one, 15 teeth.
According to every calculator and forum post I can find, the car should have had a 39 tooth driven, 18 tooth drive speedometer gears from the factory. I’m currently trying to wrap my head around why it had a 44, and 17 instead. When doing the calculations for the changed final drive ratio, all signs point to 1 of two options, 38, 15 or 43, 17. Each option provides the same results.
After typing that out, the pattern is clear. They tried to go the 2nd route when the ring and pinion gears were replaced.
This is where the issue lies, with the information I have now. Those preferred gear combinations are not available for this particular variety of 700R-4 installation. The driven gear can only be purchased new in 37 or 44 tooth varieties.
This means I will continuously reading a wrong MPH and the odometer will be wrong unless I find a way to convert the driven gear system/setup.
I got lucky and found an auction on eBay that has a single used one. So I bought it. Before I install, I am going to see if there is any way I can replicate it through my friends who have 3D printers.
The one in the middle is the one I need.
When and if I get it, I’m going to give it to my amazing friend who has a 3D printer. He’s an outright genius in my book. A lot of people call me smart, I call him smart. If we can successfully 3D print it, I want to make sure I have enough backups to last a lifetime or more.
I’ve been in IT at Indiana University since 2008. In that time, Bradley Wheeler has always been the CIO, head of all technology.
I really don’t know where this post will lead me, but I feel I need to write it to get it out of my head, the subject matter bothers me.
Recently, and shockingly it was announced by the president of IU that he would “retire” his role, take a sabbatical and then return to his roots as a professor at the Kelley School of Business.
Replacing him? The head of my very own department. A person that has went from essentially a nobody that I had never heard of before, to being the head of IT in just a short 2 years. It doesn’t pass my sniff test. Not by a long shot.
When I was just beginning to really make a name for myself in the pit of nameless souls called IT, Brad would come to the office I worked at and talk to me on a level that was personal. He would talk about how the office in which I resided was one of the first big projects he had been in charge of. My office at the time had a long curved desk, with a meeting area that was turreted with long vertical windows.
He spoke of that office like it was his baby. Genuine care and pride. He never made me feel like the hourly nobody that I was, and never did. I appreciated his vision and I appreciated his leadership.
As time marched on, and I did create a name for myself I was given a bonus and a letter from Brad. It was for being a IU Brand Ambassador, in my work in helping other centers of the School of Medicine across the state. I hold that letter in the highest of regard. It sits framed, right next to my degree from IU.
To get to my point however. I don’t think this is something Brad wanted to do, I think it’s internal university politics at play, with him paying the price.
The current lead of my division came to us more like a blue collar person, not a white collar leadership person. His speech was rough, his ideas even more obtuse. Overtime it was like he went through a makeover for executives. I found it very odd, and still do.
At the same point, we are all working off campus and working on paths to return to a new normal. My leadership are pushing unreasonable expectations to migrate our computers to a different build, regardless of what problems this causes the users of said computers. Users who have little to know real computer / operating system knowledge, medical research labs that are working hard to fight cancer, and computers that are accessed remotely by users that need them for their job.
They don’t care, they just want their dashboards to say X numbers of computers have this. There is no security threat, there is no significant reason for the change other than the change itself.
I sent a message to several of my research labs and faculty members to make them aware of this today. What came out of that message was one thing, consent. That’s what is missing here, consent.
My people rely on these computers to do work, and store data important to their work on them. If I were to blatantly rebuild these machines, there is a possibility that data that is important to them would be lost. To me, an unacceptable risk.
I haven’t connected all of the dots yet, but there has been increasing measures to combine IU and IU Health’s computing resources. Those measures didn’t increase until the head of my division started his role. Coincidence? I really don’t think it is.
I sent Brad an email, not expecting a response. I had to air some of my grievances at what is going on. He replied in kind, and thanked me for my kind words. I know he will be okay, I know I’ll be okay. I just do not like the direction I see the world of education going. A world that welcomed me in where the real world never did.
On Saturday, I went to my first meeting as a member of the Indiana Chapter of the VCCA. What is the VCCA you ask? It’s the Vintage Chevrolet Club of America. Why did I join? My father was a member for well over 25 years. I went with him to many meetings over the years, tapering off my attendance as I got older.
Since I am getting to a point where the Camaro is now drive-able, I felt it proper to join in honor of this club that meant so much to him. I was sure at least some would remember him, and possibly remember me. Boy was I surprised.
The Indiana chapter is based out of Lafayette, but events happen all around the state to be inclusive of those who don’t live in the northwest portion of the state.
Where we met and held our meeting.
At first I was confused, as I thought we were meeting outside. There were several old Chevrolets in the parking lot – but I didn’t see anyone who I suspected were part of the club.
A Pair of Chevelles
That’s when “John” if I remember his name correctly walked out the side door. I sat with him and his girlfriend and we chatted up a storm. It was nice.
A 50 Chevrolet
The director of the chapter walked up to me not too long after we started talking, and said, “Yep, you’re definitely your fathers son.” He remembered my dad! Score. I also talked with a man who got along well with my father, named Gordon. He has a nice 70 Chevelle convertible.
61-64 Impala
We then went for ice cream at a place just down the road, based on the name alone, The Frigid Frog. They had some pretty good ice cream, it definitely lifted the old folks spirits, ha.
After ice cream, we then went to Hunter’s Honey Farm in Martinsville. Taking long and winding county roads in a cruise. While there, the owner gave us a tour of the place, and explained many things about bees that I didn’t know. He explained the whole process of making honey and candles from wax.
We then ended our tour and everyone was checking out the store. My back was really hurting, so I told everyone that I had a wonderful day and I couldn’t wait to see them again and drove home.
I then mentally crashed, it was a long day. A good one however. I finally understood fully why it was so important to my dad.
Interestingly enough, while they were all interested in the Camaro there were many questions about dad’s truck. I hope to show it all to them one day. I’ve been working hard on getting the Camaro into presentable shape for them. I hope to bring it to the next meet in Anderson.
This week I’ve been working on recovering the sail panels and headliner on the Camaro. I had purchased fabric and glue weeks ago, but just made a realization. I bought the wrong color.
I’ve already cut the fabric, and I’ve already placed it on my sail panels. So there’s $50 down the drain.
The interior of this car is technically called “Medium Dark Grey.” Finding it however is not an easy task. The material I bought is called “Dark Grey/Charcoal” and per the image on Amazon and the review that stated it matched perfectly to a camaro with “Medium Dark Grey” interior, I was sold.
Images can be deceptive however. It’s actually a lot darker than this image shows.
Here is an image of one of my sail panels covered. I told myself it would lighten up.
Here’s the original headliner. Notice the dark grey area in the middle. That’s what I’m going for. To me, they looked very similar.
So where do I go from here? A part of me says to just stick with it. The perfectionist and person who wants to make this as accurate as possible says no.
So I’ve just ordered more fabric. Listed as “Light Grey” but with a online swatch that looks identical to what it should be.
I don’t look forward to taking the fabric off of those sail panels, but it must be done. I was really looking forward to enjoying the car this summer. That goal keeps becoming further and further away it seems.
I replaced the Rubicon stickers that adorned the hood of my Jeep. The originals were in sad shape when I bought it. My uncle, a man who makes vinyl signs and even stickers police cars took a rubbing of the original stickers but never made me new ones.
So sad
At some point, I got a steal on some new ones that are a different design than what I had. They emulate what the new “JL” wrangler has. I have the previous model, designated “JK”.
As a man who used to professionally detail vehicles, sticker removal is part of the job. I was in for a surprise though. I can only assume that the adhesives used have changed in the last 20 years. I first used a sticker squeegee, but it didn’t work at all. So I moved to a razor blade in combination with Goo Gone. I was able to get the sticker removed, but that adhesive did not want to leave the paint. Nevertheless, I persisted.
Far from perfect, but It’ll do
I was so exhausted from the removal that I rushed the installation. While not visible in this image, there are many bubbles in the stickers.
It definitely makes a difference however. I now have 100k maintenance to do, and I need to change the hinges on the doors as they are corroding.
This Jeep has been good to me, with not many issues. I’m appreciative of that.
