Links: http://www.swpc.noaa.gov/pmap/
Monday, January 30, 2012
Northern Lights
Ran across this picture of the current Aurora Borealis. This shows what aurora activity is happening as of the last time the satellite flew by. With all of the recent sun storm activity, the northern lights are supposed to be spectacular.
Links: http://www.swpc.noaa.gov/pmap/
Links: http://www.swpc.noaa.gov/pmap/
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Breakdowns, but Expected
I grew up with old cars. My dad seemed to enjoy working on them, knowing how they worked, knowing how to fix them, knowing a LOT about them.
Once we tested him at night and found he was able to determine the make and model of several oncoming cars just from the headlights or taillights.
Growing up with someone like that, you're bound to wind up with a few interesting vehicles that pick you up from school. Like the yellow 1960s multi-door limousine, the white "short bus" with the big vertical doors, or the 1930s something that was so old-fashioned that you could see the oily guts of the engine by flipping up a panel on the side.
Quite a few fairly normal cars showed up as well. A handful of 1970s Cadillacs, a 1974 Chevy Impala, even a few new Hondas.
Travelling in most of these older vehicles involved blankets for the cold weather if the heater didn't work, a crank-open window for trips through the desert if the A/C didn't work ("It's 4-60 A/C: four windows, 60 miles per hour!"), and a steady gaze straight ahead to not get motion sickness by ignoring the road you could see flying by through the floorboards underneath your feet.
We were heading to California one day, I don't think it was a Snow Day, when we pull over near a thriving community called Seligman.
"What's up?" Of course, in preteen language this question came out more like a complaint than a query. But it's my story.
"Well, I think it's the alternator." So, given what we know about my dad at this point, this doesn't seem strange. Perhaps this will be the first time that we'll have to use a tow service, or maybe we'll all take turns winding wire into coils to repair this piece of equipment.
He doesn't seem too annoyed and I found his calm demeanor rather odd. While my sister walked around outside with the dog, I went around to the back of the car where my dad was moving stuff out of the trunk.
Out comes the toolbox. Good, so we're making progr....
Out comes an alternator. From the trunk. A spare alternator.
"Uh, dad, why did you just happen to bring an extra alternator?" Even at this age I know normal people don't carry a spare alternator.
"Well, I had a feeling it might go out for a while now."
In another 45 minutes we're on the road.
So that's the story, we break down an hour into our trip, we install the replacement part, and keep going.
I'm not sure if that's the same trip where the radiator blew while climbing the hills in So. Cal., having to spend the night near a junk yard. I think THAT trip was the same one where a tire went flat, we didn't have a working spare, we got to wake up the Tire Repair Service guy, and my dad still seemed to complain about the cost.
But I can't really remember, I guess I'm trying to block it all out.
Once we tested him at night and found he was able to determine the make and model of several oncoming cars just from the headlights or taillights.
 |
| Not a Really Old Car |
Growing up with someone like that, you're bound to wind up with a few interesting vehicles that pick you up from school. Like the yellow 1960s multi-door limousine, the white "short bus" with the big vertical doors, or the 1930s something that was so old-fashioned that you could see the oily guts of the engine by flipping up a panel on the side.
Quite a few fairly normal cars showed up as well. A handful of 1970s Cadillacs, a 1974 Chevy Impala, even a few new Hondas.
Travelling in most of these older vehicles involved blankets for the cold weather if the heater didn't work, a crank-open window for trips through the desert if the A/C didn't work ("It's 4-60 A/C: four windows, 60 miles per hour!"), and a steady gaze straight ahead to not get motion sickness by ignoring the road you could see flying by through the floorboards underneath your feet.
We were heading to California one day, I don't think it was a Snow Day, when we pull over near a thriving community called Seligman.
 |
| Not Anywhere in Arizona |
"What's up?" Of course, in preteen language this question came out more like a complaint than a query. But it's my story.
"Well, I think it's the alternator." So, given what we know about my dad at this point, this doesn't seem strange. Perhaps this will be the first time that we'll have to use a tow service, or maybe we'll all take turns winding wire into coils to repair this piece of equipment.
He doesn't seem too annoyed and I found his calm demeanor rather odd. While my sister walked around outside with the dog, I went around to the back of the car where my dad was moving stuff out of the trunk.
Out comes the toolbox. Good, so we're making progr....
Out comes an alternator. From the trunk. A spare alternator.
"Uh, dad, why did you just happen to bring an extra alternator?" Even at this age I know normal people don't carry a spare alternator.
"Well, I had a feeling it might go out for a while now."
In another 45 minutes we're on the road.
So that's the story, we break down an hour into our trip, we install the replacement part, and keep going.
 |
| A Spare Radiator? |
But I can't really remember, I guess I'm trying to block it all out.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Snow Day Vacations
Lots of people think that their family took vacations that rival National Lampoon's Vacation movie.
I recall when they filmed a small portion of that movie in Flagstaff, where I grew up.
I'll describe my stories and leave it to the reader to decide how mine stack up.
Snow Days
In Flag, and other towns that get snow, they have Snow Days for schools. Of course, residents of any place that has weather different than San Diego will scoff at another town cancelling school for a certain inch-level of snow, but let's put that argument aside and just say that when Flagstaff public schools cancelled school due to snow, there was enough snow to hamper parents and buses getting their kids safely to and fro.
My dad's parents lived in Southern California, near the beach.
Why did I place that sentence there? No reason.
When school is cancelled, there is rampant celebration by everyone, except parents. When it's cancelled for snow, kids like to play outside. They come inside for hot chocolate and sit by the wood stove.
Many of our cars we had growing up had poorly working heaters (again, no particular reason for that sentence showing up).
Of course there are two ideal snow days. One on the day of the big test or assignment; the other on a Friday, and maybe Monday.
Three day weekends are popular with all ages. In fact, they're such a surprise that it's exciting to wake up and BEGIN planning what you're going to do with all of this time you've just been gifted with.
Putting it all together, a Thursday or Friday snow day resulted in a harried early morning scramble to load the family of six into the designated 1950-something cobbled transport "system", complete with blankets and dog (heaters) in order to get on the road to see Grandma and Grandpa. Of course, this being a snow day, the "road" was covered in 2 inches of hard pack snow, with blizzard conditions ensuring that no one in the vehicle could properly gauge the snow depth. It only took an hour or two of white knuckle yelling at the other idiots on the road to get down beneath the snow line and into the desert on the way to the beach.
We never had a snow-related accident.
I recall when they filmed a small portion of that movie in Flagstaff, where I grew up.
I'll describe my stories and leave it to the reader to decide how mine stack up.
Snow Days
In Flag, and other towns that get snow, they have Snow Days for schools. Of course, residents of any place that has weather different than San Diego will scoff at another town cancelling school for a certain inch-level of snow, but let's put that argument aside and just say that when Flagstaff public schools cancelled school due to snow, there was enough snow to hamper parents and buses getting their kids safely to and fro.
My dad's parents lived in Southern California, near the beach.
Why did I place that sentence there? No reason.
When school is cancelled, there is rampant celebration by everyone, except parents. When it's cancelled for snow, kids like to play outside. They come inside for hot chocolate and sit by the wood stove.
Many of our cars we had growing up had poorly working heaters (again, no particular reason for that sentence showing up).
Of course there are two ideal snow days. One on the day of the big test or assignment; the other on a Friday, and maybe Monday.
Three day weekends are popular with all ages. In fact, they're such a surprise that it's exciting to wake up and BEGIN planning what you're going to do with all of this time you've just been gifted with.
Putting it all together, a Thursday or Friday snow day resulted in a harried early morning scramble to load the family of six into the designated 1950-something cobbled transport "system", complete with blankets and dog (heaters) in order to get on the road to see Grandma and Grandpa. Of course, this being a snow day, the "road" was covered in 2 inches of hard pack snow, with blizzard conditions ensuring that no one in the vehicle could properly gauge the snow depth. It only took an hour or two of white knuckle yelling at the other idiots on the road to get down beneath the snow line and into the desert on the way to the beach.
We never had a snow-related accident.
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