Heat has always played a peculiar role in my life. As a child, I spent summers outside in nothing but a pair of shorts. That has since progressed to a point where I can barely stand it.
Last year, I was unable to mow my yard. I hired a guy to do it for me, and I appreciated the service he provided to me. I didn’t enjoy spending $50 a week on something I had done for years however.
Last year, I could barely stand being anywhere above 70 degrees. Indoors or out. I felt that I was a hostage to my body, trapped within the confines of air conditioned spaces.
Today, I mowed my yard for the first time in over a year. It’s a little victory, I just hope I can continue to do so. We haven’t reached the peak of heat in the year yet. I didn’t use the bagger this time, but I hope to eventually. My yard is still healing from the basement repair work and from where the gas company removed my gas service.
It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so I felt it was prudent that the grass be mowed.
Yesterday, I randomly discovered something that touched me deeply. I’m not much for vlogging, even though my own YouTube channel is essentially that. That’s where the great algorithms google has created said “hey, you might like this video.”
This is the exact video that was recommended to me
At first, my naughty side was engaged. Then I realized this was just a small piece of a much larger and deeper engagement. This woman was reading the secrets every teenage boy wanted to know when we were young, she was reading her diaries!
So I circled the wagons, and started at the very first video and kept the videos playing. It was around midnight when I stopped last night, not realizing the time. There were only two more videos of the series left, my heart full of those emotions I felt as a middle school / freshman boy.
By her own words, she came from a stereotypical middle class family, had what can be only described as a “normal” upbringing, yet only wanted the love and affection from a boy (or girl) that would make her feel complete. This moved me, down to the core of my being.
At the same age, I never felt liked, wanted or needed by anyone in my age group who was of love or sexual interest. Middle school was the time of my life in school, but much like Rodney Dangerfield I didn’t get no respect! I didn’t know what made girls like boys, but I wanted to be one of those boys they liked.
My 7th Grade picture, middle. They infamously spelled my name wrong.
Back then, I really wore my heart on my sleeve. (Who am I kidding, I still do.) My two go to’s with the opposite sex were cheesy lines and deeply written heartfelt notes of affection towards the ones that made my heart go pitter patter. I still speak with and know several of those girls, and those lines have stayed as memories of way back when.
One was to a girl who I instantly felt comfortable with, we will call her M. I would always ask her if she wanted to “take a magic carpet ride with me?” while passing her. Another girl, we will call her A, I used to essentially harass by asking her if she knew “what the other white meat was.” This was a play on the pork industry’s marketing at the time. Another girl, her first name is the name of one of the boats Christopher Columbus had, so I would ask her were they went? She’s now a professor at the same university I work at. When I took her course (you know I had to), I would bring this up, and even wrote it on my final exam “for bonus points.”
The notes, or letters or whatever you want to call them, I’m not sure if I’ll ever know how they were received by their intended recipients. I don’t even know if they got them. I would pour my heart and soul out to these girls, but never received a response in kind. Never.
But still, NOBODY WANTED ME. It seemed as if all of the girls I wanted actually wanted someone else, or a guy of more social significance had “laid claim to her” as if she were a piece of property. I didn’t understand, I still don’t.
I had my guy friends, people I had known quite literally since I was born, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted someone to fill my heart with joy. Bring smiles to my face just because they exist, all of that romantic stuff kids of this age think of.
I went through a lot of struggle during this time of life. My mother ran off with my stepfather as he was wanted by the police, leaving me alone in a trailer. Eventually I was living there with no electricity, no heat, no water – nothing. I was surviving through the money my dad faithfully paid for me to have lunch. When he discovered this, a new change began. He and I started living with my grandmother, 30 miles away (because my stepmom wouldn’t allow me to live in her house).
A girlfriend would have helped my soul, significantly. I will digress on me now.
Her YouTube series just highlights the struggles that most if not all of us must sadly endure. Those cringeworthy years where we want something – but don’t know how to get it. Don’t know how to understand the signs that someone is interested or not interested in you. They are times that leave an indelible mark on all of our souls.
You could say those times were fruitful for me, as I’ve always been what I call a “social chameleon.” Being able to fit into all sorts of social circles, it has enabled my continued connections to many of that time.
After a 11 year marriage, I ended up reconnecting with many from that time as a method of healing my wounded soul. I wanted to see how life had treated all of those that I genuinely cared about. I eventually started spending more and more time with one of them. At the age of 35, I was still unsure if she was giving me signs of interest, if she liked me, etc. It was like middle school all over again.
On the advice of a trusted friend, after we went to the drive-in (her kids, she and I) I planted a kiss on her as I was walking her to her door. I didn’t want to be in a state of confusion of where I stood in her life. I had to make a move. I was also legitimately worried that I had just ruined this excellent friendship she and I had been forming.
My girlfriend, also 7th grade at the same school. Middle image. We never spoke. WHY???
The constant pessimist, I assumed I would never hear from her again. I was wrong. In a couple of weeks, we will be celebrating 4 years as a couple. It’s been a wild adventure with her, but I think my life would have been much less interesting without her in it.
Had I realized I could look back on my writings 20 years later, and see the inner most thoughts of a younger version of myself, I would have started writing way back then. I hope you are reading this Gretasaur, and I hope you are smiling.
I sent Gretasaur an email and facebook message, just to say thank you. I deeply appreciate those gifts she provided the world, and I want her to be aware of that.
Last Sunday, I took my princess home. We had spent the day previous at my house, just her and I. I try to give her one on one time with me, but it seems that she is starting to no longer want or need that time on as an obvious level as she once did. My little girl is growing up, and it’s breaking my heart.
I decided to spend the night at my house instead of going back to my girlfriends. I needed to wallow in my own misery a bit. Little did I realize a storm was coming.
While in bed, trying to rest for the next day of pandemic style “working from home” my stomach started twisting in knots, painfully forcing me into a fetal position. Soon enough, I’d be spending long periods of time between that pose and on the toilet, where my bowels decided to act more like a kitchen faucet than a portal to excrete solid waste. But I digress.
Rinse and repeat. This is the story of the majority of my week. It is now Friday, my days and nights are mixed up and my body is in pain from the lack of physical activity. That’s been a theme of my life in the past 5 years, not enough physical activity.
I’ve missed my girlfriend. I’ve missed her heathens (as I affectionately call them). In the last couple of days, the same thing has overcome her. When I was prepared to come back, she told me to stay where I was, and so I have.
Progress on the IROC has been hard lately. I’ve been trying to bleed the rear brakes and remove the brake fluid that is highly questionable in age. I purchased a cheap vacuum bleeding system from Amazon, but it was of no help at all. I don’t really have a helper at the moment, so the solutions I have been looking at have been restricted to solo options. Then I discovered gravity bleeding.
That fluid should be almost clear
I had the bleeder valve open for almost four hours today. I’m going to open it again tomorrow for the entire day. Hopefully it will be clear then.
I’ve decided to put off replacing the brake lines now, and will put that project off until next fall. I will then paint the calipers and wheel well areas.
Sadly, I’m still working on the rear and have the entire front to do!
On another note however, I finally got my spare tire situation figured out. The 3rd Generation Camaro / Firebird has a very interesting option for the spare tire called a Stowaway Spare, and mine has it.
I had the tire, but it wasn’t installed – and the parts required to mount it were missing. eBay came to the rescue on that, where I got those parts and the tire inflator.
Spare Tire Mount PartsGM Stowaway Spare Tire Inflator
Not too long before my father passed away, he was messing with the original one in the car. He was trying to figure out how to refill it. This is basically a CO2 canister used to fill the tire up, as it comes deflated but mounted to an aluminum wheel. I have asked my stepmom to look for it, it was in much worse shape than this one but it was original to the car, an important thing to me.
These canisters aren’t cheap to replace or find. This one cost me $100 – but with the shape it was in I couldn’t resist. I then went to work and got it all mounted. I had great difficulty mounting the canister to the wheel (how it is supposed to be). Mounting the spare in the compartment was a piece of cake though.
Snug as a Bug
Now I’m questioning where these two foam pieces go. They were in the spare tire compartment. I’ve done a lot of searching and haven’t been able to find any specs of information on the internet regarding those foam pieces.
The last week has been interesting to say the least. I’ve been working on finding a new normal, a new routine, a new way to cope with these extraordinary times.
As one of those who still has a job but has been forced to work from home, I am thankful to still have my job. At the same time, I have much that needs to be accomplished at my actual home. A place I don’t spend much time at. The grass is growing, there are trees I need to cut down, and there is a car that needs to be finished.
So I began going “home” from my girlfriends house for work every day. Almost like a reverse commute. I have a desk there, I have dual monitors I have all of the “things” I need to do my job with much more efficiency than I do at my girlfriends home.
I used a lot of my “in between” time, which is time I’m not helping someone by scanning photos. I have an extremely large backlog of family photos and photos from my girlfriend. Ones she cares about deeply. Her album is quite literally falling apart, so I began with that, and have almost finished.
My trusty flatbed, one of 3 scanners I own
Between trying to get through this backlog of photos that has felt insurmountable for many years, the grass is certainly growing again. It’s something I actually hired out last year. The first time ever. After having a surgery that effectively removed my ability to sweat in one underarm I could not physically take the heat of the summer. I had no choice. I am not one to give up easily. I have to get back on that saddle and try again.
The Camaro has been sitting on jack stands for months now. I’ve finished replacing the rear brakes. I just did a modification to the proportioning valve that is supposed to increase the line pressure to the rear brakes, making them work better. I just need to bleed the rears, and change the sway bar bushings and end links. Then I have to begin on the front work I have planned.
I’ve had my youngest daughter with me for almost two weeks now. Her mother and I agreed on a temporary custody agreement to keep her from jumping back and forth between households. I will have her for one more week before she goes to her mothers house. Her school completely shut down at the start of this pandemic, but will re-open on the 14th of April to remote learning. For her, that means paper packets of learning activities she must do. No e-learning here. I’m happy to have had this time with her, but at the same time feel like I haven’t used it to benefit my relationship with my daughter. I’ve been away a lot, or working.
One thing I did do, was open up her ability to use e-mail. When her mother and I divorced, I created an email account for her for a multitude of reasons. I wanted her to be able to have one with her name instead of something with numbers on the end. I also wanted a way to send her messages from the heart that nobody would see. My intention was to give her the password when she graduated high school.
I successfully hid those emails I have sent her from view, but linked her email to her computer and her phone, giving her instructions on how to email her teacher that only produces a path where her teacher is emailed.
She has enjoyed this new ability, and has been writing her own pandemic journal, directly to her teacher. I think this has been helpful, as she was showing some major anxieties about her teacher. These kids miss the experience of school.
I must say, even though I was aware of this pandemic from it’s beginnings, I was ill prepared for it. Something I’m not all too happy about.
I was raised learning how to care for myself in any situation. Fishing, hunting and basic living skills were drilled into me at an early age. Tools such as knives, firearms and trap making are something I have deep seated knowledge of as well.
But here I sit, with no real emergency supplies of food. No water reserves on hand, or portable water filtration systems to use ground water with. No real firearms except my trusty 9mm handgun.
Taurus PT111 Millennium G2
A weapon that was confiscated from me under Indiana red flag laws due to a zealous sheriff’s deputy. It was then returned to me, along with my lifetime permit to carry a firearm after tensions were eased with my ex-wife and legal processes were able to finalize.
It’s true, these items are not something I require at this moment. They are not daily needs for survival. We are but a couple of steps away from them being as such however.
After my divorce, my 2nd Amendment Rights were stripped from me for a period of 2 years due to a couple of reasons I will not disclose here. Once all of that was over with, and the state returned my “License to Carry Handgun.” I thought I would test this approval. So I went to a gun shop and bought what is called a Stripped AR Lower Receiver. This is the only part of an AR that is truly considered a weapon, and requires a background check to purchase.
I passed the background check, I was so happy. That was really the only reason I purchased it. To see if I could. I had no major interest in building an AR-15. I had no need for one.
A year later, an opportunity presented itself where I could purchase a complete AR-15 at a steal of a price from a different gun shop just down the road from me. I sent the guy the funds and went to do the background check as soon as I could. I was denied. Wait, what? I don’t understand? The store owner provided me with paperwork on how to figure out what was causing this and how to resolve it. So I proceeded.
I was now speaking with the Department of Justice and the FBI. (Hi there). In essence, they were saying that I was put on a list. One you can never be removed from. This list (actually a database) is what denies persons from purchasing firearms in this country. I provided them with all of the legal paperwork I had including court orders from a judge to have me removed from said database. That did not matter to them. They ended with essentially stating they were done speaking with me, and any further communications should be done through my state firearms division, leaving a department name and address.
So I started speaking to them, over their own encrypted email systems. According to them, there was no problem at all. That according to my state I have my 2nd Amendment Rights without question. I kept pushing and asking but have still to this day, not received a response regarding the issue with the DOJ and FBI.
As of right now, I am simply waiting until 2022 when I can officially request that all of the records of these events be expunged. Then I will attempt another firearm purchase.
I want to be crystal clear on this fact. I am not writing this with a political perspective, and I do not want my words to be used for any political means. I am giving my personal story of how these laws and databases have affected me personally.
The panic buying, the people not listening to their governments the hoarding made me realize I was not equipped to defend myself or my family should it come to that sort of situation. So I have begun building an AR-15 from that stripped lower I purchased a couple of years ago from a licensed FFL that required a background check.
I purchased a complete lower parts kit from Palmetto State Armory, a well known supplier of firearms and firearm parts. I started building last night, I have found it as interesting as enjoyable. I haven’t worked on weapons since I was a teenager and civil war re-enacted.
So far, I have only installed the Magazine Catch, Bolt Catch and Trigger assemblies. This unit has a trigger guard built in, which many do not.
I have found that I will need an armorer’s tool in order to torque the buffer tube correctly. But I should be able to assemble this lower without any other special tools. They help, but are not required.
Once finished, I will find a pre-built upper assembly to purchase, and this weapon will be complete. All parts simply delivered to my home. No background checks. In many ways, it’s like shopping on Amazon.
I can then begin to stock things to feel comfortable in a “end of the world” situation, like MRE’s, ammunition, and a water supply.
To some, preparing for the end of the world or society is something only crazy persons do. To me being prepared is never a bad thing.
It’s been a while since I’ve written. I’m really trying to make a conscious effort to not keep up with writing my thoughts. It’s important, especially in times like the ones we are having now.
The entire world is now dealing with the effects of the COVID-19 virus. Infections and deaths are rising at a exponential level. It’s a situation I’ve never seen in my life. As a parent, it’s scary. As a person, it’s scary. As a survivor, I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this.
Last week, the governor of Indiana initiated a Stay-At-Home order. Indiana University has instituted it’s pandemic plans by extending spring break by a week and moving all learning to online. They have also asked that nobody come to campus unless it is absolutely necessary.
As of this writing, there are 22 confirmed positive cased of COVID-19 in Monroe county. I have been watching the numbers on a website the state setup. I expect that number to increase significantly over the next few weeks.
As a IT Professional supporting the School of Medicine in Bloomington, this situation has made work a very difficult task. In the weeks previous, I spent all of my time building new laptops and preparing my staff to work remotely, by giving them the information and tools they needed to keep working. Over the past few months, my remote support abilities have been all but taken from me, as I specialize in direct and personal support. I hope my leadership works on returning those soon.
IU has stated nobody will lose salary or PTO due to this situation, and I am greatly appreciative and grateful for this. Many right now are unemployed or have completely lost their jobs. However, since technology is everything now, I have been inundated. I take my job very seriously, and my faculty and staff need my help right now more than ever. I will not falter them in their time of need.
I am of a split mind when it comes down to how to look at this pandemic in the long term. In the short term, I am hunkering down with my girlfriend and her children. Sticking together and practicing this new term we have all come to learn called “social distancing.” My lifestyle is pretty much what social distancing is all about, so it does not bother me.
However, I feel carelessly unprepared for this. I keep no food at home. Also, if it becomes as crazy as the store shelves look out there, I don’t have the weapons to protect myself or my family. Yes, I am serious.
Regardless, I am a survivor. I was fortunate to have a childhood that gave me lots of gifts. I spent a lot of time on a family farm. Sure, my skills are rusty, but they are there. I can find a nice spot in the woods, build a shelter, hunt game and gather edible finds. That does not scare me.
I must say, we definitely have biblical signs of the last days upon us. First was the locust invasion in Africa. Now we have a worldwide pandemic that would have definitely been called a plague in times past.
I have ordered more parts for building a rifle. I am ordering cases of US Military MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), and will ensure I have portable water filter systems.
No matter what happens, me and my family will survive this. I only wish the rest of humanity the best as we struggle with a pandemic that hasn’t been seen since the Spanish Flu.
Two weeks ago, I got sick. It was a sinus pressure buildup in my head. My head pulsated with migraine like pain.
After taking a week’s worth of Mucinex, the pain went away, or I thought it did. It simply moved to my chest. For the past week, I’ve been dealing with chest congestion. It hasn’t been fun.
Then, the only words I really have for this come from Star Trek The Next Generation, “shakka, the walls fell.”
News of Coronavirus and COVID-19 spread like wildfire. I wasn’t sure if this was just the next hot story in the news cycle or something to be legitimately concerned with. I’m still on the fence in all reality. But I am taking all of the actual news I get under advisement.
In my work at the IU School of Medicine, I’m fortunate to have personal and professional contact with doctors and experts in the medical community. Their calm, keeps me calm.
I’m one to live light, so that I do not have a central base and I can bug out easily. I know others are not as fortunate in that regard. I live knowing I can go to many places across this and other countries if I need to. Connections are everything I have.
My girlfriend recently needed to go grocery shopping and we were shocked to find limits of 4 cans of any item in place at Aldi. Kroger having similar limits as well. Toilet paper seems to be the thing people are hoarding in the USA for this pandemic, I really do not understand why.
I know my thoughts are rambling through this blog post, where I typically try to keep them on point, but I must get these things out.
I have a weakened immune system due to a skin disorder and medications I take for that disorder. Social distancing is something that comes natural to me, as I’m an introvert by heart.
My job has been very mixed on this front, as I answer to different people. My director wants us all to come in tomorrow, while the university’s stance at this moment is work from home if you can.
No matter who you are, or where you are from (I don’t know if anyone even reads this blog), stay safe. This is a time when social isolation is good for humanity, so do it. If not for you, do it for me. I am one of those who could literally die from the spread of this virus.
I’m going to leave you with a great song by a great man with a great band called Half Pagan.
Two winters ago, I had a flood event happen in my home that had never happened before. Copious amounts of water in my basement. Clean it up, and it would be right back. Until the water table fell, it would return.
I had a room mate living in that space at the time, and I felt horrible about it. As I had told her the basement never flooded. I had warned her that there might be a small puddle in a couple places – but never flooding.
We had a couple of heavy rain events this winter, and the same flooding returned. However, I was able to find exactly where the water was coming from. It was coming directly through my fireplace, and into my basement. I covered the cap with plastic, but that didn’t stop the flow. It was coming through the ground.
So I immediately reached out for quotes to get this fixed. Not a band aid, an actual fix. Most of what I was faced with was what I call a “bubba” situation. People telling me that they’d put a drain in for me, that’ll fix it. No it won’t Bubba. That will just mask the issue. One person, a guy I moderate a group with lent me a water pump to help get rid of the water until I got the situation resolved. That’s an amazing gesture, one I appreciate immensely.
I decided to go with a small family run crawlspace business. They gave me a plan, which they executed just as was explained. Their charge was more than the others, but I think it will pay dividends in how dry my basement will stay.
The area in question
They called 811 almost a week ahead of time, to make sure my utilities were marked, but the company that does that only marked my fiber line for telecom. Thankfully I have had this done several times and roughly know where all my utilities run.
Hole and Trench
From this image, you can see what they are doing. They dug this hole around my chimney, and then ran a trench for the drain. While digging the trench, they broke my water line. It didn’t run directly to my meter, and instead did a zig-zag.
Tar Application
They then cleaned the area and covered it in asphalt tar, a thin layer of plastic and a thicker bubbled layer of plastic to create an air gap. Many times, water is pressed through concrete block walls by pressure alone. This will will mitigate that.
Bubbled Plastic
The aforementioned bubbled plastic I mentioned. The drain is constructed of a section to gather water made up of drain tile with a fabric covered section to keep it from becoming clogged, with a run section that only moves the water to an exit.
After they finished this section, it started raining. They were unable to complete the job for a few days. They then back-filled, trimmed the plastic back and covered the raw dirt with straw.
The spot now
Since the dirt had become saturated from the rains, they were unable to grade the ground as proper as they had liked. They told me to call them in a few months and they will come back to smooth the yard up more.
The end of the line
This is where the drain ends. I haven’t decided what I will do with this spot, as it changes how I have mowed my grass. I will probably put in some rocks or landscaping feature to help with this.
View from the street
In the end, I had to use all of the few hundred dollars I had been able to save and go in debt by $2000 more to get this work done. I’m really feeling the financial pinch but am thankful to be in a situation where it is not the end of the world.
My goals right now are focused on lowering that debt amount and enjoying a dry basement.
This weekend, I went back to battle on the rear end upgrades/maintenance on the IROC. After my experience last weekend, I had knowledge and skills I wasn’t equipped with the first time. I rented a caliper tool from the auto parts store I frequent, and it made the experience far better.
I started by swapping the drilled & slotted rotor as a mechanic had told me. After doing some research on the subject, I believed and agree with him. After posting an image on social media, another mechanic friend (whom I trust more) told me it was wrong, so I begrudgingly swapped it back. This also gave me an opportunity to use that tool I had rented, to ensure the slot in the caliper fit properly with the nub on the brake pad.
GM Delco-Morraine Brake Caliper
I then went to the passengers side, which is the oddest thing I have ever seen. The brake caliper is on the opposite side on the rotor. The manager at the parts store (who I’ve known since I was a kid) said it’s also common in some Ford pickup trucks.
So Odd
There was something in the way however. Due to this mirrored setup, the lower control arm was in the way. The bolts that hold the caliper on did not have enough space to be removed. So I unbolted it and got to work.
On my previous post I mentioned how the thought of replacing these lower control arms with new tubular ones really vexed my mind. My mind was reassured however, as the bushing on this one that connects to the axle was in really good shape. So I won’t be replacing them.
The rotor on this side was really rusted on. I had to beat it with a hammer for a good 10 minutes before I was able to get it fully off. That was the largest issue I faced.
I then replaced the shock on this side, which like the other side was the OE one and dead as a door nail. My daughter helped me with the first one, I was happy that I was able to do this one all by my lonesome.
Then it was just a matter of reconnecting that lower control arm, which required I do some fancy leg work with a jack to jack the axle up incrementally so the bolt hole would line up.
The drivers side has solid metal brake line, the passengers side has a short rubber brake hose. I’m going to change a spring in the proportioning valve that is supposed to increase the line pressure on the rear brakes. These cars are notorious for having what are essentially non existent rear brakes. This stops here for me. It will require my brakes be bled, which needs to be done. I’m just weighing as to whether I should change the hose and do the bleed myself or have a shop do it at this point. I’m always weighing my options, I don’t want to damage this car, or destroy something.
I just have to take care of the brake hose, bleeding/flushing of brake fluid & the sway bar bushings & end links and the rear will be done. For now anyway.
