Lee – Page 12 – lee-lawmaster.com

Weirdness Abounds

We had a nice day last Saturday, and I’ve got a pile of parts just waiting to be thrown on the ol’ IROC. My plan was to replace the rear brakes and shocks, but plans never turn out the way you want them to.

I’ve known this car since I was 7, but I’ve never dug into it’s systems and deep into what makes it work until now. My father wasn’t one to do much more than an oil change on his own. With the help of other men in my life, I learned how to do everything.

Friday evening, with my daughter’s assistance, we jacked the car up and put the rear on jack stands. I’ve been trying to involve her and the other children in my life on the processes required to restore this car. Automotive knowledge at a young age is a wonderful thing for children. I know I loved it.

After taking the wheel off, I discovered something. Something I had never seen in my lifetime of working on vehicles of all shapes and sizes. After doing some investigating, I have come to a theory. 1988 was a odd year for braking systems on this car.

My findings, coming from internet based research on forums and YouTube have led me to believe the following. Pre-1989 if a Camaro had disc brakes in the rear the rear end was essentially the same as one that had drum brakes on it. The only difference is the backing plate and the addition of a caliper and rotor. The brake line is hard all the way to the connection on the caliper itself.

This car is a 1988, but built in October of 1987. 1988 was a good year, but it was also a year of lasts and firsts. It was the last year for the cold start injector, commonly called the 9th injector. But it was the first year for the L98, 5.7L TPI (which this car has). It was also the first year of the 1LE option, which is the rarest of the rare 3rd Generation Camaro. Only 4 were made that year. Starting in 1989, if your car had rear disc brakes, it had the 1LE aluminum PBR calipers, which were made in Australia.

My daughter helped me install the new driver’s side shock. The old one, in the picture above was the original, and did not function at all. Unfortunately, I only received 1 hardware kit from the 2 shocks I ordered. I reached out to the company who makes them. They have sent me another kit.

So I went back to work on these brakes. The rotors are warped, and I think the pads are glazed, causing braking to be difficult at best. I went to compress the rotor only to discover this is one that requires to be twisted like a screw to go back into place. I went to the parts store not once but twice, as the first tool I bought to handle this task was too small. The second one would fit – but alas the pattern would only hold 1 of the pivot points. I had to use a pair of channel lock pliers to manually twist the piston back into place. It was difficult at best.

I then put it all together. I bought drilled and slotted rotors to help compensate for the small brakes on this car. Many upgrade the brakes with systems from newer cars or from 3rd party manufacturers.

I later discovered that technically this rotor is on backwards. The angle of the slot should be in the other direction. The cooling vanes within the rotor are non directional however, which mitigates that issue. I am still pondering on changing it. If you notice there is a “L” sticker on the rotor, and this is the “L” side of the car.

By this time, it was 6pm. I was beyond tired and happy to have accomplished what I did. Then my mind got to thinking. There are lots of rubber parts there that are obviously worn out and need replaced. Do I go ahead and take care of this while I’m at it?

I purchased a set of sway bar end links and bushings as a package, the other parts are for the lower control arms and the panhard (sometimes called a track) bar. Unfortunately it seems like replacing the bushings on those OEM parts is more trouble and more expense than buying new tubular parts. So I am currently in a battle with my mind on what to do.

As a teenager, all I wanted to do is put these kind of parts on this car. Now, nearing 40 I don’t exactly want to. I want this car to have it’s original character, flaws and all. Decisions, decisions.

Becoming my Father

I noticed something yesterday, something that I used to think was very strange. My father used to be very aware of the price of fuel. So much so that a 5 cent change would alert his “spidey sense” as it was.

When I was a teenager, we drove 50 miles 1 way to Paoli for fuel. It was the brief period of time in my life when the price of fuel dropped below $1 a gallon.

Shortly before he passed away, he actually called me once and used the phrase “end times” about the price of fuel. A local gas station had made a mistake, listing the price of fuel at $9.99 a gallon.

These words highlight one of the quirks about my father, always paying the utmost attention to the price of things small and large.

Throughout my father’s life, he had a lifelong connection to Bedford, and would often fill his gas tank there, as the price was always cheaper and he was always traveling there. Much like what I do now, with my youngest daughter living there. With the costs of living only going up and up, I have been trying to save costs where possible.

I have found myself purchasing fuel in Bedford, purposefully for the past few years. On average it is 20 cents a gallon cheaper, and sometimes more. I have had occasions where on a trip there and back, I have seen the price in Bloomington be close to what the price is there, only to return to find the price has spiked by 30 or more cents a gallon.

Yesterday Amelia had her first ever Robotics competition there. I filled up my gas tank for $2.999 a gallon, where it is $2.559 here.

Newspapers and TV stations have ran stories on the oddity of the price of fuel in Indiana, and locally we are told that it is “hard” to deliver fuel to Bloomington, causing the increase in costs. I have seen the same spread in prices locally, which takes that equation out of the mix.

Even though my old man seemed crazy about the price of fuel, and had oddities about his purchasing habits. He was right all along. I miss ya pops.

It’s Mine

For two and a half years I’ve been paying my stepmother $100 a month on my dad’s Camaro.

I couldn’t afford and didn’t have the cash on hand that she wanted for it. Her price was extremely reasonable, she had spent some money trying to restore it herself. Her brother painted it, did a tune up on it and replaced some seals. I’m fortunate she was willing to work with me on a payment plan. This car meant the world to me from the day I first saw it.

My current financial situation isn’t great but I had a decision to make. I’m about to spend thousands to fix a problem with my house. Do I keep making payments to her or do I finish that, so I can put the money elsewhere. I decided to pay her off. This leaves me with one less payment to make a month. That money will just go towards this fix on my house.

Yesterday, we met at the BMV. I handed her the $1000 that I still owed her, and we transferred the title to me. We had a little mistake on the mileage, but was able to rectify it since we were there, thankfully. Details like this are huge with the provenance of the car. I’m even writing this post for documentation purposes. My dad and stepmom were who purchased it brand new, from Royal Chevrolet.

My next steps are weather dependent. I’m still waiting on some good weather to install new brakes and suspension components. I will be plating the car with a historic plate with a designation that allows me to also use a 1988 license plate.

I’m still waiting on my uncle to get the new seat covers that I ordered off eBay. They are supposed to be exact replacements to what you see here. We will see. I dropped the driver’s seat off with my uncle. When I go back, I’m taking the passenger seat with me for a new cover to be put on it.

Now I own both of the vehicles my father had when he passed. This makes my heart and soul very happy. Once I am finished with the Camaro, I will start on the truck.

Adventures in Cutting the Cord Part Trēs

This is the 3rd part of my series in how I got rid of cable TV services. The first being here, and the second being here.

This part will focus on my high tech solutions for our high tech world. This isn’t the 1980’s anymore. Many don’t have TVs, or prefer to watch TV as they are on the go, using a mobile device of their choosing. Well guess what? I’ve got that covered.

For many years I’ve ran and operated a Plex server. I operate this server on my primary desktop computer with a NAS attached. All of my Plex content is stored on that NAS. When they were about to raise the price of their Plex Pass, a premium product they sell I purchased the lifetime option for $75. The easiest way to explain Plex to those not familiar with it is this, it’s like Netflix but you own the content. Plex can handle movies, TV shows, audio libraries and photos. They recently added podcasts, news and their own free streaming movies and tv series. It can also handle TV and DVR functions. It has a commercial removal capacity too, but I’ve had mixed results.

For Plex to be able to see that TV signal you will need a TV tuner however, and the one I went with is a HD Homerun Quatro. Many other tuners are supported however. I selected it as it gives you the ability to watch/record up to 4 programs at the same time.

HD Homerun also has their own applications you can use to watch from this tuner, and a paid DVR service. I use the app on my phone for diagnostic purposes.

Once you get it all connected, Plex will take you through a setup process and you will end up with a TV guide, much like this.

The one downside to Plex’s own built in abilities is that you can only use 1 of their pre-built guides. If you live between 2 TV markets, this makes things very confusing and hard. I am one of those people. So I chose the other option, an XML guide.

Through much digging I found a program called zap2xml that connects to either Zap2It or TVGuide (depending on your preference). With it, you can then create a TV guide that suits the channels you get reception for, or all of the areas you get reception for. I pickup stations in the Indianapolis, Louisville and Terre Haute markets. Plex has a built in Indianapolis-Louisville guide, but to add Terre Haute causes problems. This solves it. I essentially have the program run 3 times, once for each market. On each run it compiles the data into a single file that is then used for this guide. I update it daily.

With Plex, which has apps for all your favorite smart devices, computers, TVs, and streaming devices – I can watch anywhere I go. I regularly watch the news from my home while at my girlfriends house. Show coming on that you really want to watch but won’t be home? DVR it, or watch it on the go.

I really love this system and the setup I finally achieved. It took a lot of hard work, and numerous failed attempts before I reached a level I was satisfied with. But as I am, I’m never truly happy. I’m considering adding a second antenna to the mix to grab as many of those signals as I possibly can.

Walkabout

Last week, I took a trip to my familial homeland. It’s a place that much like Rodney Dangerfield, doesn’t get any respect. I respect it though, and it will always have a place in my heart. So much, that I have it tattooed on my body.

Keep it easy on the gas ’round these parts or Joe P Law will make you pay

I didn’t have many reasons to go, I just needed a break. I felt as if I was sinking deeper and deeper into a depression. Nothing that I tried would get me out of it. I knew this would.

The one reason I went however, was to give my uncle the driver’s seat out of dad’s IROC. It was ripped on the edge, and trust is more important than anything else to me on this car. I trust the man with my life, and I trust him with dad’s car. After looking it over, he believed the best route would be to completely replace the seat covers with new ones. Something I didn’t want to do, but his experience is trusted and valued. So I bought new seat covers for the front seats, a $600 expense I wasn’t expecting. They will be custom made and sent directly to him. Where I will then come back in a few weeks with my other seat to have brand new seat covers on the front seats.

I spent some wonderful 1:1 time with my 3 beautiful aunts, all of which I love and adore. They feel like the only family I have left sometimes.

I then went on a mission. Something I had thought about but never attempted. I went to Tahlequah, marched into the Cherokee Nation headquarters and asked what it would take for me to become a member. The staff was wonderful and very helpful. I knew my great-grandmother was on the Dawes Roll, which is the requirement for entry. They told me that I actually could enter via my grandfather. I just needed his death/birth certificate, the same for my father and my birth certificate.

One of my aunts provided me with my grandfather’s death certificate. Another gave me a copy of his birth certificate. When I returned home, I ordered a death certificate for my father and birth certificate for myself. Now I wait.

I felt refreshed and ready to take on the world, my trip was over. But why stop the adventure there? I decided to take a route home that I had never taken before. I decided to take a southern route via I-40 to Memphis, where I visited a place of eternal rest.

The most peaceful and calming cemetery I had ever been to.

It was a rash decision, based on my happenstance. An author who appeared in Ken Burns’ Civil War is buried there. His colorful and vivid oratory sparked interest in the subject for me from an early age. I felt it was a duty to pay my respects and thank him in the best way I knew how, for the gift he provided me as a young boy.

I’ve never been a big reader unfortunately, and had never read any of his works. I just purchased one of his novels and can’t wait to read it. If his writing skills were as good as his vocal ones, I know I will love it.

I’m back home now, where my amazing girlfriend missed me. I missed her as well. I’m finding my soul to be as complex as it is empty at times. I need quiet reflection. I need times completely alone and quiet, and I need ways to escape the mental anguish I continue to face. I accomplished that during this trip.

Now to begin a period of financial self restraint, which I’ve never been that good with.

People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing

That’s a quote from Will Rogers, celebrated son of the state of Oklahoma.

My youngest daughter last spring break, at the state line.

Right now, my mind is on nothing else. With all of the stresses life has thrown at me, it’s time I get out of dodge and escape for a while.

It’s a trip I’ve made since before I can remember. My first memories of Oklahoma involve my first time flying. We boarded a TWA flight out of the old Indianapolis International Airport, with a connecting flight where we then boarded an Eastern Airlines flight. I don’t know where the connector was, but to this day there is no direct flight to Tulsa from Indianapolis. So I drive.

Depending on factors of children or others along on the trip, it typically takes between 8 and 12 hours. I know the route by heart, the road frees my spirit. It’s a big reason why I often considered being a truck driver when I was younger.

Don’t let the contrast fool you, this woman is a bodybuilder! I know her as my aunt.

I miss my aunts and uncles. They have a southern twang in their voice and hospitality in their hearts. My oldest cousin is having a birthday, he always looked up to my dad. I try my best to keep the traditions alive.

This is my American Gothic, and I cherish it tremendously.

One of my uncles will be receiving a gift of sorts too, the driver’s seat out of the Camaro. It is in need of repair, and he’s the man for all things upholstery in the area, and the only person I trust with such items. I’ll drive back sometime later to pick it up. I’ve done the drive in 48 hours before, I can do it again.

I think a week with these folks will do my heart and my mind well. The trappings of life have really gotten to me lately. Maybe this is why dad and I made so many trips when I was younger and he was my age?

This Horn’s for You

A few weeks ago, the paltry horn quit working on my Jeep. Many complain about the horn these have installed from the factory. From the moment I bought it, just a little over a year ago it barely functioned.

Over time, I got the crud out of it and it started working for a good period of time, but alas – it died again.

After much research, I decided on replacing the single horn with a set of dual horns, made by PIAA. I enjoyed the tone. They market them as Sport Horns.

The installation process was pretty straight forward, and I think that’s the reason why many with Jeeps go this route, the horns came with a set of cables to connect the second horn. All I needed was an “add a wire” connector. I tried to bolt the horns to the mounting bracket, but my big fingers got in the way and I lost the bolt that I had just driven to the hardware store to purchase. In the end, I used a trusty zip tie.

I’m about to take a cross country trip to free my mind from the ongoing and piling worries that have filled my life as of late. I needed a horn. I’m happy to have it now.

Political Revolutionary?

The United States of America was founded on some core principals. These principals are inherent to what it is to be an American. Due to the ways in which some state laws were created, and the way my county implemented them, there is now an unbalance that a group of politicians want to exploit.

While I may spew meaningless banter on social media on political issues, I have never been one to hold much weight on political issues. To me it’s always been used to divide the people, so powers can go unchecked. I’ve tried to live my life as far away as I can from governmental intervention. I pay my taxes, I do my civic duty. Just leave me alone.

At the beginning of January, the mayor of the city closest to me proposed an increase in the county wide income taxes by 1/2% for efforts to stop climate change.

WUT? Full stop.

A municipality does not have the jurisdiction to change policy for an entire county when spoken at a general level. In this situation, they do however. Why? Numbers. The weight of the vote is determined by the citizenship behind the municipality.

The imbalance is so high that the combined voting capacities of the entire county and 2 other municipal areas within the county do not have the capability to stop the proposal.

That is not democracy.

So I spoke up, with the encouragement of a township trustee I then made a facebook page to focus my views and thoughts on the subject at hand. I can only assume that my words were noticed, as a reporter for the local newspaper wants to interview me on the subject.

Unfortunately this puts me in an awkward situation with a friend. As he is currently the president of the city council. The exact board at which I’m currently at odds with. He and I have often butted heads regarding issues the city council is considering. I value his friendship, and have let him know as such. My feelings on this subject are purely political.

I guess I will see where this road takes me. I just hope that road doesn’t mean the loss of a friend.

What’s a Cubit?

My dearly departed father grew up listening to Bill Cosby albums. It was the basis of his lifelong passion for comedy. When I grew up, I discovered his comedy. I only knew him for Jello commercials and The Cosby Show.

In the thirteen years I’ve lived in this home, I have dealt with all sorts of water issues. The first one being from the water line coming into my house. The second being my almost yearly sewage backups. I would occasionally get small amounts of water in my basement. It was enough to clean up, but not enough to cause serious concern.

I’m concerned now.

We received a lot of rain this weekend. Over 1.5 inches in the last 24 hours alone. Many roads were flooded. I’ve seen flooding like this in the area, but never as wide spread before.

Water was literally coming through my fireplace, exiting and draining into my basement. Thankfully the slab is leveled to force water to flow out of my garage. But I’ve never seen it act like this before. Something must have changed with the concrete blocks that form my basement walls, or something has broken on my chimney allowing the water to flow.

The key difference is the amount of dirt and silt that flowed in with the water. I repeat, I have never seen this happen before. I’ve also never seen water flow out of my garage when the door is opened. Never.

So, I did what I always do. Swept the water out as best as I could. Got my dehumidifier going, but it was of no help. I put towels up to help mitigate the flow. I also covered my chimney with 6mil plastic, but that did not change the flow. The issue has to be below grade.

A guy I moderate a group with offered some assistance. It was nice to finally meet him in real life. He purchased a pump for me to borrow, which pumped a majority of the water out. The water quit coming out of my fireplace soon afterwards. He looked at my property and gave me some ideas of what can be done to mitigate this happening in the future.

Tomorrow my day will consist of contacting every professional in the area that I can to get estimates on fixing this. I will also be contacting the Chimney/Fireplace company a classmate operates with her husband. They said they could get me an appointment for Tuesday. This is going to be costly.

And the lord said, “How long can you tread water?“

Auld Lang Syne

As twenty nineteen draws to a close, I welcome those roaring twenties with open arms. The teens have been primarily full of hardship and strife for me.

I lost both of my grandmothers. My father passed away unexpectedly. I had a horrible divorce with implications that still impact my life.

On the upside, I finally gained full time employment for the first time since 2006, and then within a year I advanced my career to a place I never thought I would be professionally.

I went on some wild and crazy adventures and found love again. But I constantly feel as if life is not worth living due to those losses I faced. My hunger and motivation just aren’t the same anymore.

I look forward to twenty twenty. May you bring some of the same things you brought the twentieth century. I’d love to see society step up it’s apparel, lets bring class back to our lives. I want to see the optimism of my youth make a return. I want to see my daughters grow, learn and continue to become the things they want to be.

My plans for twenty twenty include finally beginning to drive dad’s IROC-Z, revisiting New Orleans and continuing to try to get myself over the grief I face on a daily basis. I never imagined how heavy my heart would feel five years post my father’s passing.

My life motto since that event is tattooed on my left forearm, something I stitched together from a letter my dad wrote to me while I was at church camp.

I only hope I’m making him proud.