News from the world of Tennis

Towering Lyle E. Mahan and his partner George C. Schafer, the Columbia University veterans, won the lawn tennis doubles championship yesterday, June 4, 1910, on the indoor courts of the Sixty-ninth Regiment Armory. In the final, which brought the tournament to an end, they defeated Gustave F. Touchard, the National indoor champion, who paired with Dr. William Rosenbaum, by the score of 7-5, 4-6, 6-3, 6-3. The match was played under ideal conditions. The light was perfectm and throughout both pairs were keyed up to the fastest pitch of play. All of the rallies were prolonged. In many, the ball often crossing the net 20 times or more.

Some will recall Mr. Schafer as a former Navy Paymaster formerly assigned to the Panama Canal Commission. Mr. Mahan also holds various titles in squash, polo and golf. In 1908, Dr. Rosembaum became the first Jewish player officially ranked in the United States.

Nerdorama

I Am A: Neutral Good Human Druid/Sorcerer (3rd/3rd Level)


Ability Scores:

Strength-12

Dexterity-13

Constitution-13

Intelligence-17

Wisdom-12

Charisma-13


Alignment:
Neutral Good A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them. Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias for or against order. However, neutral good can be a dangerous alignment because because it advances mediocrity by limiting the actions of the truly capable.


Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.


Primary Class:
Druids gain power not by ruling nature but by being at one with it. They hate the unnatural, including aberrations or undead, and destroy them where possible. Druids receive divine spells from nature, not the gods, and can gain an array of powers as they gain experience, including the ability to take the shapes of animals. The weapons and armor of a druid are restricted by their traditional oaths, not simply training. A druid's Wisdom score should be high, as this determines the maximum spell level that they can cast.


Secondary Class:
Sorcerers are arcane spellcasters who manipulate magic energy with imagination and talent rather than studious discipline. They have no books, no mentors, no theories just raw power that they direct at will. Sorcerers know fewer spells than wizards do and acquire them more slowly, but they can cast individual spells more often and have no need to prepare their incantations ahead of time. Also unlike wizards, sorcerers cannot specialize in a school of magic. Since sorcerers gain their powers without undergoing the years of rigorous study that wizards go through, they have more time to learn fighting skills and are proficient with simple weapons. Charisma is very important for sorcerers; the higher their value in this ability, the higher the spell level they can cast.


Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)

The Exploded Head of Ferdinand Marcos, and the Great Sphinx of Giza

Not for nothing did we know Ferdie (I can call you Ferdie, can't I?) as the Great Gnosticator; thus, well salted with silver ions were the clouds of fate when he commissioned a concrete-clad bust of himself on a mountainside in Benguet province. Yes, even as Muhammad Sa'im al-Dah de-nosed the face of the Great Sphinx of Giza lo these many centuries past, did "suspects [including] left-wing activists, members of a local tribe—or possibly looters hunting for one of Marcos' legendary treasure troves" blow up his big, stone head two weeks ago. Yes, treasure hunters, just a month before the Philippine government tries Imelda Marcos for embezzling countless hundreds of millions of dollars. And how many dime-store novels and adventure novels have set treasure inside the Great Sphinx of Giza? Many, I'm sure.

F-Mo's big head lasted over 20 years; similarly, a King or Kings unknown built the Great Sphinx of Giza some 40 centuries ago. Both of those numbers are divisible by two, 10 and 20. "Just numbers, you dolt," you're undoubtedly thinking. Yes, but try to graduate from high school without them.

No, no-one knows if the Great Sphinx of Giza was a real person, although undoubtedly it wasn't; and how many of us, really, can say we knew Ferdinand Marcos? Not me, that's for sure. Coincidence? You be the judge.

Probably funny if you live in South Dakota

Not, however, funny to me.

South Dakota Barbies on the shelf for Christmas

Sioux Falls Barbie
This queen Barbie is sold only at Macy's. She comes with an assortment of Chanel Handbags, a Volvo, a French poodle named Charisse, and a Lincoln County McMansion. Plastic surgery available upon request. Hey, she has to look beautiful when she works at KELOland TV. CitiBank Ken sold separately.

Rapid City Barbie
This tough little sport comes with optional hiking boots or mountain bike. When she's not selling magnets at Mount Rushmore , she can be spotted off-roading in her Land Rover or running on the bike path. Inhaler included to give relief during forest fires. Buy her while you can because Ken works at Ellsworth and might be getting transferred!

Spearfish Barbie
This doll is made of actual tofu. She has long straight brown hair,
arch-less feet, hairy armpits, no makeup and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you call her Ocean . She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you purchase two Spearfish Barbies and the optional Hybrid Toyota, you get a "Free Tibet" bumper sticker for free.

Aberdeen Barbie
This "Frost Queen" comes with an entire winter wardrobe! Her parka is reversible and can be used as an emergency igloo whenever needed. Package includes a shrink for seasonal depression.

Vermillion Barbie
This young, hip girl actually comes with her own pepper spray. Her USD sweater is made of real wool and her Cavalier gets great mileage between the Empire Mall and Vermillion. Available keg with purchase of makeup. Ken doll sold separately with broken cell phone... he never seems to calls back.

Mitchell Barbie
This brassy, tobacco-chewing gal comes with camouflage overalls, Cabela's Credit Card, and a rifle. She can be found just north of town shooting pheasants and drinking an ice cold 40. Cabela Ken available with purchase of Chevy Silverado.

Brookings Barbie
This modern day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Windstar Minivan or Honda Odyssey Minivan with matching Wal*Mart sweats. She gets lost easily while taking Stacy to her soccer games and has no full-time occupation other than the PTA. Ken doll sold with matching Daktronics company car.

Sturgis Barbie
This recently paroled Barbie comes with a 9mm handgun, leather chaps, and a Meth Lab Kit. This model is only available after dark and must be paid for in cash (preferably small, untraceable bills) ...unless you are a cop, then we don't know what you are talking about. Harley sold separately along with deadbeat Ken. Jail uniform available with purchase of Mobile Home.

Belle Fourche Barbie
This model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans, a NASCAR t-shirt and Care Bears tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Bud light and a Johnny Cash CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken's butt when she is drunk. Purchase her Mega Ton Dodge Dually pickup truck separately and get a confederate flag bumper sticker absolutely free.

Deadwood Barbie
She may be a 75 year-old, Brandy drinking, Virginia Slim smoking cuss, but she has more audacity than Calamity Jane. She just got out from Gambler's Anonymous and needs to get rid of some spare change. Deadwood Barbie can be found at the Monday night "Kevin Costner Fanclub" meeting just down the street from Cadillac Jack's Prime Rib Buffet. Ken comes free, but is usually working two jobs to keep a roof over their head.

Day of Waylon

It's official. Rock on.

Waylon Jennings

Waylon Jennings (June 15,1937 – February 13, 2002) was a respected and influential American country music singer and guitarist, born in Littlefield, Texas. more...

[via FoxyTunes / Waylon Jennings]

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Now playing: Clint Black - Are You Sure Waylon Done It This Way
via FoxyTunes

Hershey reCAP--Lincoln

I recently spent some time talking to current Lincoln designer Peter Horbury, who described the design elements that make up the Lincoln look. This ’70 Mark IV in the car corral had them in spades: Slab sides; a kick-up over the rear wheel; sharp fender creases; a thick, cantilevered c-pillar; bow-wave grille; subtle accents; and a chamfered character line along the side. At $13,000 OBO, and 49,000 miles, it’s going nowhere but up.

Hershey reCAP--Benelli

Famous for having totally unlabeled switchgear, this mid-1970s 49cc Benelli Blazer showed zero miles, and a $500 price tag. It's a damn good thing I didnit have the $500 on me and as it was, I thought about hitting an ATM.

Benelli? They made engines for Moto Guzzi and Vespa, and the Blazer engine is similar to those. While you could get one from sole US importersCosmo Motors, they were also part of a minor war among the major department stores, each one of which had their own line of scooters or mopeds—Benelli was the Montgomery Ward offering.



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Now playing: Michael Jackson - Unbreakable
via FoxyTunes

I try Pan-Harder. Ha.

This came out great, if I do say so myself. Admiral Middendorf's 1907 Panhard et Levassor U2...

Hershey reCAP: Monza Mirage

I’ve never been sure why GM doesn’t create some sort of museum around the 700 or so cars in their private Heritage Collection, but at least they usually bring a few to Hershey. OK, the 1977-only Monza Mirage didn’t differ mechanically from a regular V-8 Monza 2+2, but the addition of a decals and flares package did a nice job of evoking the factory IMSA Camel GT Series car.

Hershey reCAP VIII

You could almost call Stearns-Knight a forgotten Classic, but all post-1925 models are indeed CCCA Full Classics. Patterson Barnes’ 100hp, 6,309cc (385-cu.in) eight-cylinder 1927 cabriolet is one of only 927 cars built by the Willys-owned company in 1927. Patterson is recognized as one of the foremost experts on Stearns-Knight and you can see several of his cars at the AACA museum, so it’s no surprise this is CCCA National First Prize winner as well as an AACA Senior.

Hershey reCAP VII

Here’s another London-to Brighton veteran, Reed Martin’s 1900 Knox. He ran the English 57-mile race twice, once in five hours, 20 minutes; once in seven hours, 45 minutes, becoming the only three-wheel Knox ever to do so. This is a first-year Knox, with only 15 made; the big 95-cu.in. single thumps out 5hp, but the car is only 80 inches long and turns around in just over its own length, so there’s no reverse gear.

House eats car

Winooski--c. 1997 Isuzu Rodeo vs. bathroom.

Photo: 1/6

From the Freep. By "Jeep Rodeo," I take it they mean "circa. 1997 Isuzu Rodeo?" And "late model," "at least ten years old?"

Hershey reCAP VI

Speaking of Mercedes-Benz, this is George Wingard’s 1913 Tourer, which claimed its First Junior at Hershey. George brought his car from Oregon; it has a body from Carrosserie D&E Snutsel Pere & Fils in Brussels. There was a deep crowd around it all weekend, ogling the Pebble Beach-winning former Brooklands racer. A vast inline-four cylinder aero engine makes 200hp from 21.495 liters, or 1,311.7-cu.in. That’s 328-cu.in per cylinder!

Ever wonder what it's like to do something really, really stupid?

It feels an awful lot like this.

Hershey reCAP IV

Dennis Frick told me his 220-based 1952 Mercedes-Benz Delivery Sedan was part of an amazing post-war tradition in Germany, where there was a need for light commercial vehicles, but little infrastructure to build them. Karosserie Autenrieth Darmstadt—also associated with BMW’s 501 and 502—was one of the larger outfits among many small manufacturers making do with what they had; they made the long roof from 11 perfectly butt-welded sections.

Magazines to which I subscribe

A list. I only pay for PM; the rest are comps.

1. American Cowboy by Active Interest Media

2. Black Enterprise

3. Business People Vermont by Mill Publishing Inc

4. Climbing

5. Cruising World

6. Flying

7. Games for Windows: The Official Magazine

8. Global Rhythm Magazine by Global Rhythm LLC

9. Jet

10. Kitplanes

11. Metropolitan Home

12. PINK

13. Parenting plus Sesame Street

14. Paste

15. Popular Mechanics

16. Pro Sound News - Ny by Newbay Media Llc

17. Road & Track

18. SPIN

19. Saveur

20. Skiing

21. Smithsonian

22. Tennis Magazine

23. The Magazine Antiques by Brant Publications, Inc.

24. The Wall Street Journal

25. Urban Climber by Skram Media LLC

26. WaterSki

27. Workbench by August Home Publishing

Adding:

28. Popular Photography

29. Woodcraft

Hershey reCAP III

When I think of Hupmobiles, I usually think of either brass-era cars or the fabulous Raymond Loewy-designed Eight, but Walter B. Colton’s six-cylinder ’31 roadster reminds me there were fine cars in between. Walter’s car won its AACA Senior in Ohio in 2004, and he showed it in the Preservation class at Hershey this year. The 228.1-cu.in. engine makes 75hp; 1932 brought 90hp.

Hershey reCAP II

The only surviving 1898-‘99 Hay-Hotchkiss is also the only one ever built. America’s first four-cylinder car has a horizontal eight-stroke, four-cylinder engine in which each cylinder entertains combustion every fourth stroke. William Hay and E.M. Hotchkiss could never get it running quite right, perhaps because of their claim that it would go (albeit a little slower) without either oil or water. Freshly restored by Sean at Red Star Auto in Rhode Island, it’s running right, now, and is a recent London-to-Brighton participant

I'll pick one up on my way home

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Hershey reCAP

'Thought I'd post some short observations from Hershey last month. Here's the first of several.



The big truck hobby is, well, big. Robert J. Kalbach of Wernersville, Pennsylvania, brought his 1959 Brockway, entered in the Driver Participation category of the Saturday show. Mack Truck acquired Brockway in 1956 but the name lived on, with the heavy-duty, Deluxe (with corner windows) cab Model 257 Huskie.

It was the first full year for the Huskie, and Bob’s not sure what it’s rated at, but I counted 17 leaves in the springs, and may have missed a few. A 572-cu.in straight-six Continental gas engine powers the 9,800-pound tractor.

The smallness of States

I know Vermont is small but, as we say, Jeezum Crow!

The Wings of Man

Who coined the phrase "...rich Corinthian leather?" William Waites.

Cool.

Also “The Wings of Man," for Eastern Airlines.

Crazy hats

You know, I write vast volumes of stuff every month, but this paragraph from October is one of my favorites.

How I got into the Peace Corps

And by "I," I mean my dad...

In the Beginning

This goes pretty far back, folks. When I was a junior in college the Democratic primary included JFK and Hubert Humphrey. I was a born again HH supporter because of his progressive record going all the way back to municipal office in Minnesota and the great tradition of LaFollette and others he was following. I still have my “It’s Humphrey in ‘60” button. It was during the primaries that Humphrey started talking about the idea which became the Peace Corps. I loved the idea.

Well, he got defeated in the West Virginia primary, dropped out, and JFK went on to the Presidency. Meanwhile I was a scholarship kid at a school for the sons of rich parents. Many of my classmates had been traveling abroad all their lives. I’d been to Canada once on vacation with my parents. When my roommate turned 18 his parents gave him an air travel card; with it he could travel anywhere in the world. He used to go to Switzerland to ski over Christmas, and the Canary Islands for our short Spring Break.

By senior year I had nearly terminal Travel Envy. I figured the only way I could go abroad was through a job and began applying for positions (there was no Peace Corps yet). I ended up with three offers: one with the Quakers for teaching in Tanganyika (now Tanzania, I know); one with another international organization somewhere in Southeast Asia (where is the national currency the bhat?); and one for a small island in the Caribbean, Montserrat. I liked the Africa gig but couldn’t in honesty take the non-violence pledge required – it was so absolute. I couldn’t figure out if the compensation in bhat was enough to live on. The Caribbean job offered air fare and $1800/year, which they assured me was plenty (it was).

So I went as head of the English Department at the island’s secondary school (British system of overseas exams, 11-plus entrance exam, uniforms). It was a great experience. Also taught French and music, did lots of stuff, matured a little. Had two great kids.

(ok, ok, I’m getting there)

While I was there the Cuba crisis came up. Our island was directly on one of the shipping channels. When the blockade was instituted, we could see US warships patrolling not far from us. People were pretty scared of what might happen.

Then Russia blinked, the threat was over. All over the Caribbean there was an outpouring of relief (one of the calypsos out of Trinidad was “He turned dem ships in de opposite direction/Kennedy is de mon for dem”). I was the only American living on Montserrat. I can’t tell you how many people came to me to thank the US.

I had already extended my original one year contract to over two. There was a local guy finishing his degree in England who would be coming back soon and could do the job. I wrote to Washington, basically saying, “take me, do with me what you will.” I do remember asking for a tough assignment.

I got a letter telling me I was accepted pending checking my background and was going to Afghanistan. Sounded fine to me.

I resigned (very emotional leavetaking at the school, at a final Prize Night. My Glee Club sang). I went back to my folks’ house and started to get ready. FBI guys (I guess) interviewed our neighbors. Then came a second letter – Nepal, of course.

steve

Babysitting and the politics of dissent

We’d given up on child care. Our experiment in the spring wasn’t a disaster, but you have to trust a mother’s vibe, and B’s vibe with the girl we has wasn’t great, especially after we checked her references. She didn’t lie, exactly, but it wasn’t what you’d call an accurate representation of the facts. After two or three Fridays, we called it quits.

We need B to keep her job, though. After health insurance, saving some and my student loans, about 50% of my salary goes toward rent, and while it should, the remaining $250 a week or so just isn’t going to cover the bills and expenses for a family of three.

For a while, I worked 7-to-5, four days a week, and stayed home on Fridays with the boy. That was great for everyone, but there were some not-so-subtle hints from my bosses that putting family ahead of the appearance of productivity (don’t get me started) just wasn’t cricket, and for the sake of my already-tenuous position, I went back to the 8-to-5 routine.

That meant B had to try to get all of her work done when I could take the boy. And as he sleeps with us, that meant coming home from work, attempting to get dishes done and food cooked, and going to bed at 7:30. Then, of course getting up when B came to bed at 9 or so, eating dinner, bathing, etc. With the poor sleeping we do with X teething, that meant four or five hours sleep on a good night.

I think we’d had Rosemarie Jackowski’s number for a while. She responded to my ad, where I’d written something about maybe looking for a grandmother missing her grandchildren, which is exactly what she is. A couple of months ago, we did send him over for about two-and-a-half hours, the first time alone we’d had in seven months. It worked out fine, but we weren’t exactly what Rosemarie was looking for. We’re adults with our lives more-or-less together, and she explicitly said she wanted to help someone who really needed the help.

But X is irresistible. And last week, he spent the afternoon there, where they had a wonderful time. She won’t be charging for the sitting; I’ll do some carpentry and whatnot around her house in exchange. She bought us a Xavier College T-shirt, because she “couldn’t resist.” She took photos, and gave us a set on his second visit on Monday: Xavier in his stroller by her big brass “Peace” sign; Xavier in her living room decorated with signed Nader photo; Xavier playing with her plush Che doll…

Because Rosemarie is a do-gooder. In liberal circles, she’s got a bit of a rep as the infamous incarcerated war-protesting , Air Force veteran grandmothe, arrested a couple of years ago for blocking the intersection on Main Street in town. She appealed her five-year (!) sentence to the state supreme court, which reduced it to community service; there’s a possibility the case may continue to the High Court in Washington.

I was reminded of a visit with our pediatrician, when Dr. Wood mentioned something about television viewing. I told her we didn’t have any reception where we live, so it’s not a problem, the only thing to worry about is constant NPR exposure. She got very serious then, and said that early on she made a decision to limit all the media consumption her own kids would get.

I don’t believe anyone comes farther left than myself, but I do try to be sane about it. I don’t have it in me to hate Bush, I try not to make ad hominem attacks on people, I make an effort to listen to people of good conscience with whom I might disagree politically.

So now I have to start planning for my son’s social upbringing. I can’t divorce him from world events, although I will make sure it’s not a part of his young life. Shall I do as my grandparents did with my father when they dropped him off at a different church every week, and find some neo-con sitter to steer him the other way? Yes, of course I want my children to share my values—I have them because I think they’re the right ones. And Rosemarie is a fantastic babysitter, who genuinely loves him. If I do my job properly and teach him critical thinking skills over the years, he’ll be able to make up his own mind. I’m certainly not going to remove him from her eight hours a week of care because of political viewpoints that I even share. But I am going to pay attention to my own attitudes around him, about everything if I can. I can’t, I know, but it seems as though there’s nothing better I can do for him than to give him a chance to make up his own mind about things.

The Phone-in Heist

I'm not sure, but the clerk at the convenience store where the robber phoned in his crime may be the stupidest person on earth.

And what, the robber couldn't have texted him?

TheDay.com - Man Calls In To Rob Convenience Store

Dino vs. 914

Another full proof spectacular extravaganza crazy thing! 1971 Porsche 914-6 (#150) vs. a 1974 Dino. Six-cylinder, mid-engine targa madness!

We are Stoke

So I'm trying to win a Carlsberg beer contest to see the European football game of my choice. Stoke, natch, although visiting the Camp Nou would be wonderful too. The contest requires your best football story, so I made one up, casting Lehho in the role of the mysterious stranger...:

As an American Stoke fan in America, I’ve never been able to explain my love of the team to anyone I know—my wife doesn’t even understand, although she does her best. Barcelona she gets, but a mediocre Coca-Cola League team? I have a hard time explaining it to myself. So I spend my time on the web, listening to podcasts, watching blurry game clips, alone.

But last winter, I was singing one of the Stoke anthems—Tom Jones’ version of “Delilah”—to myself on a subway platform while visiting my father in New York. “I saw the light on the night that I passed by her window,” I sang, and in my heard the horns that come in after that line. “I saw the flickering shadows of love on her blind.” I heard them again, and it seemed as though I could really hear them above the noise of the station. “She…was…my woman,” I sang a little louder, “As she deceived me I watched, and went out of my mind.” I wasn’t imagining it—as I went into the chorus, singling loudly enough that people were starting to look at me funny and edge away from me there on the platform, someone one the other side of the crowd was singing along with me!

“My, my, my…Delilah,” and he answered me: “Why, why, why… Delilah?” That one got a laugh.

Well, the Stoke version of the song turns dirty after “She stood there laughing,” and I wasn’t sure if I should sing it there in public, and I didn’t want to make my new friend think I was an idiot…so when we got there, I let him sing that line—and he sung the Stoke version, at the top of his very loud lungs.

Well, I knew he was my kind of guy then, and as he was very recognizable I went up and found him on the train later on. We’re friends now, and when Stoke wins or loses I finally have someone I meet up at a bar and complain with. Not to mention, a friend I wouldn’t ever have had if I hadn’t been singing one of my favorite Stoke songs at a subway one day. The team brings me a lot of joy and a lot of heartbreak, but they’re both a lot more fun now.

Who says the Brits can't make cars?

motoring.co.za - Who says the Brits can't make cars?

Yeah yeah yeah...Alexei Sayle? Seriously?

The best of the sexually transmitted diseases

The nice people at BBC America, in celebration of Top Gear coming to US TV (it's only been on for 30 years. Seriously), have sent me episodes one and two of last year's season, coincidentally, the first two episodes which will be seen on US TV next week (August 20).

If you've never seen it, you have no idea how well written and photographed it is (very).

"This...is a Renault Espace, probably the best of the people carriers, not that that's much to shout about. That's like saying, 'Ooh good! I've got syphilis--the best of the sexually transmitted diseases."

By gum that's funny stuff.

Cat Collar TV

Via Driver Rob's selection. Somehow, I expected more diamond heists and less aimless wandering. Brilliant, nonetheless, especially the bit where he sits there and looks at the sign, several times.

Exact percentage?

Yes, sometimes I answer online surveys. But this took some calculation...

Barn Finds, a modest proposal

I walked into work today; on the way I came up with this idea for a reality show for Discovery/The Learning Channel. I wrote up this treatment, registered it with the Writer's Guild and submitted it at lunch. I've always been sorry we didn't develop Welcome to Reality further; we could have been Mythbusters.

AUTHOR: David Traver Adolphus

TILE: Barn Finds: Uncovering America’s Lost Cars

LOGLINE: BARN FINDS takes the reality car show on the road, mixing in small-town Americana with humor. The BARN FINDS team visits a new town each week, tracking down legends of forgotten and lost cars. It's every car lover's dream, and they get to live it every week when we open the doors at the end of the show.

A reality-based television show aimed at the heart of America’s millions of car nuts.

Writers Guild of America registration # 1218902

I. TITLE

BARN FINDS: Uncovering America’s Lost Cars

II. TAGLINE

Every town has its secrets; every town has its legends and treasures, forgotten behind locked doors. It’s our job to open them.

III. CONCEPT

A pair of wisecracking but sympathetic presenters travel from town to town, exploring the truth behind the universal legend of the BARN FIND car

IV. FORMAT

BARN FINDS is a combination of urban folklore, humor and mystery with a dose of history. We track down stories about lost cars and uncover the truth. Each show begins in the BARN FINDS HQ—garage-style—with a viewer letter to set up that week’s episode. “In 1971, Jimmy Cummerbund bought a new Hemi ‘Cuda, but only drove it for two weeks before he lost his license. He stored it somewhere in town, and was called up to serve in Vietnam before he got his license back. He never came back from ‘Nam, and the car was never seen again.”

The BARN FINDS team looks into the background of the story, talks a little about the car (“Well, if it’s true, that’s a $2 million car today, they only made seven with a four speed…), and takes BARN FINDS on the road to the location, in their distinctive trademark vehicle.

On location, BARN FINDS mixes in local color as we track down the car. Every episode ends with a REVEAL, where we end up at the car’s location, or as close as we can come. Suitable for either 1/2-hour or one-hour format.

V. BACKGROUND

As a full-time professional automotive journalist and photographer, I see an amazing variety of American classics, sports cars and muscle cars every day. But more than that, I hear amazing rumors. When you’re traveling with a car guy who’s been in the same location for a while, as you drive around scouting for photography locations, they’ll start a little travelogue. “That’s old man Johnson’s house—there’s a Cadillac in that shed, it’s been there for year. Out behind that house, there’s an old Mercedes under a tarp. See that garage? There’s been a Packard in there for 40 years…”

It’s easy to dismiss all this as rumor, but I’ve seen the truth. I’ve seen a $5 million Mille Miglia-winning Ferrari come out of a barn in New Hampshire after 40 years, an original V-12 Duesenberg from 50 years of storage in downtown Boston, a Shelby Cobra roll after being forgotten for decades. This spring, I was in northern Vermont for a photoshoot, and the car owner pointed to a blue tarp, covered with weeds, in a run-down farmyard. “See that?” he asked. “There’s a Stutz Bearcat under that.”

The idea of a barn find—a car that’s been lost, forgotten or overlooked—is one the most exciting things for any of Americas countless millions of car nuts. This spring, Christie’s sold a 1938 Bugatti Type 57C Atalante coupe after 45 in a barn for $852,500. There isn’t a car nut alive who doesn’t dream about finding a forgotten car; BARN FINDS is how they live those dreams.

VI. SAMPLE PROMO

CLOSEUP on faces of shock and awe. “Oh…my…God!” says one, as whistles and murmurs are heard in the background.

TITLE: Barn Finds: Uncovering America’s Lost Cars
Wednesdays at 9

25 Years of Robotic Leadership

Best title for a press release, ever. And here I thought they'd forgotten me.

FANUC Robotics America, Inc.

Celebrates 25 Years of Robotic

Leadership For Immediate Release

ROCHESTER HILLS, Mich., July 31, 2007 – FANUC Robotics America, Inc., the leading supplier of robotic automation in the Americas, recently celebrated its twenty-fifth anniversary during an employee event at the company’s 375,000 square-foot headquarters and Customer Technology Center in Rochester Hills, Mich.

“The foundation of our success stems from having a team of knowledgeable and experienced experts in the field of robotic automation, combined with the world’s most intelligent and reliable robots, software and controls,” said Rick Schneider, president and CEO, FANUC Robotics. “We’re especially grateful to Dr. Eng. Seiuemon Inaba, honorary chairman of FANUC LTD, for his vision and leadership for a quarter century,” he emphasized.

With more than 172,000 units in service worldwide, the FANUC family of companies, including FANUC Robotics America, FANUC Robotics Europe and FANUC LTD offer sales, engineering and support of robotic systems across the globe. Over 80,000 FANUC robots are at work in the Americas in a variety of industries including automotive, food and beverage, consumer goods, glass, metals/machine tools, medical devices, pharmaceuticals, and many others.

“Since the company was formed in 1982, FANUC Robotics America has achieved substantial growth and has become the leader in the North American robotics market,” said Dr. Eng. Seiuemon Inaba. “The company continues to play an extremely important role in FANUC Group’s robot businesses.”

Schneider points out that FANUC offers service for robotics at each of its 113 locations around the world, including FANUC Robotics America’s extensive Customer Resource Center. “We’re committed to making it easy for our customers to work with us. We continuously measure our performance to ensure that we meet or exceed our customers’ expectations.”

-more-

FANUC Robotics 25^th Anniversary Page 2

“I am proud to say that FANUC Robotics plays an important role in helping North American manufacturers compete globally. Whether it’s a simple pick-and-place application, or a process-intensive assembly system requiring vision or force sensing, our intelligent robotic solutions are technologically advanced to handle virtually any manufacturing challenge,” said Schneider.

FANUC Robotics America, Inc. designs, engineers and manufactures industrial robots and robotic systems for a wide range of applications including arc and spot welding, material handling (machine tending, picking, packing, palletizing), material removal, assembly, paint finishing and dispensing. The company also provides application-specific software, controls, vision products, and complete support services. After 25 years of success, FANUC Robotics maintains its position as the leading robotics company in the Americas. A subsidiary of FANUC LTD in Japan, the company has facilities in Chicago; Los Angeles; Charlotte, N.C.; Cincinnati and Toledo, Ohio; Toronto; Montreal; Aguascalientes, Mexico; and Sao Paulo, Brazil. Over 172,000 FANUC robots are installed worldwide. Contact FANUC Robotics at fanucrobotics.com or by calling 248-377-7000.

1700 by 7

Another complete pictorial, the tale of my roundtrip by Caterham from NYC to the Tail of the Dragon at Deal's Gap, NC.

View Album

Get your own

It turns out, you can get used to just about anything.

When Jon Cohen showed up on the morning of July 5th in his 2002 Caterham SV, my first reaction was panic. Admittedly, I’d been panicking lightly ever since USA7s Club president Al Navarro hooked me up with Jon for a ride from New York to Deal’s Gap, North Carolina, for a 50th anniversary meet of Lotus 7s and variants. But when I looked down on the thing while taking an overhead photo, I went into full “what the hell did I get myself into?” mode. Especially after Jon showed me how he likes to drive the day before, with a little dodge-and-weave action through Queens at super-legal speeds in his Impreza.

I’m not unfamiliar with small vehicles. I regularly drive an assortment of puny British things like the Lotus Europa, as well as early American cars, which tend to be intimate in their accommodations. A couple of years ago, I did spent a day rallying an MG TD, but we were talking about dicing it up with the semis on America’s superhighways through eight states in a car you can park—the long way—in the trunk of a Civic. A careless knuckle slipped out the window will meet the pavement, and conceivably get run over by the rear tire, which is more or less in the small of the back.

At least Jon’s car was an SV. Us big, fat Americans had been asking for something a little more accommodating than the original “Classic;” as a result, we had an extra three inches of width and four inches of body to play with. We still had to lash my bag to the rollbar, with a small camera bag jammed under the knees of the passenger. I worked my way over the sill and into the thin sport seat, and committed myself to the road.

Caterham started as a Lotus dealership, and began building their Lotus 7 in 1973, after Lotus discontinued it. Caterham Cars’ Graham Nearn, who saw his livelihood evaporating, negotiated with the factory to acquire the rights to the car, as well as portions of the tooling, and started producing a new Series IV Lotus 7, although they soon switched to the more popular Series III bodystyle.

A variety of engines have appeared in Caterham 7s over the years, mostly either small Ford or MG Rover inline-fours. Jon’s version continues that heritage, with a Ford Zetec two-liter, of Contour or Mondeo heritage, but backed up with a close-ratio Cosworth five-speed and a very, very high-geared rearend. Top speed is not where it’s at; getting to 60 in a heartbeat and then having all kinds of fun, is.

Thankfully, even Jon had to respect New York’s AM drive time, to the extent that any New Yorker respects any traffic. The tight, broken arterials taking us out of the city were a tease. It would have been ideal conditions for the car’s point-and-shoot abilities, but the badly broken pavement nixed thoughts of pushing any limits, so I held onto my teeth and enjoyed a view of the Jersey barriers from below. Your average Jersey barrier, by the way, is 32 inches tall.

As we passed into New Jersey, Jon opened it up a little. His SV is equipped with full weather protection in the form of a snap-on fabric roof with two steel bows, and lift-off molded doors with plastic windows. They make a huge difference at speed, but you still can’t hold a conversation over 60, and at 70 or so you’ll get your hat sucked off. We settled into a cruising vibe at 65, which is around 3,400 rpm in fifth gear. The nice thing about hanging out in that neighborhood it that there’s a lot of power on tap; on the downside, the nine-gallon gas tank empties within 200 miles.

So once we were out of urban traffic, and for good measure out of New Jersey, Jon flipped me the keys at a fill-up. He’s the third owner of the SV, but bought it with fewer than 1,000 miles showing. Before our trip, he’d added another 5,000, and we had to lift off the seat cushion and bang on the adjustment mechanism a few times before the seat slid back enough for me to fit in.

In this early generation of SV, Caterham hadn’t developed a separate body for left-hand-drive markets, and the driver’s side is actually tighter than the passengers. On both sides, it’s got a combination of your standard inertia-reel retractable seatbelts and four-point racing restraints. Almost unfailingly, the central lock of the harness ends up underneath you when you crawl in, so you have to fish it out and let it flop on your lap while seated.

I was fooled by the quick clutch takeup and short throws at first. No stalling, but not what anyone would call smooth. Jon pointed out that the key was driving fast and shifting fast. You don’t say?

Learning to live with the car’s height hadn’t been too tough, and fitting into the seat and tunnel merely required some yogic discipline, but driving with a useless passenger-side mirror, minute driver’s-side and totally obscured aftermarket rearview was a leap of faith. There was really only one answer: Drive like jerk and make sure there’s no one faster than yourself on the road who could come up in your blind spot, i.e., everywhere not in front of the car. That worked well for about ten minutes, then even with earplugs, I just couldn’t take the buffeting any more and backed off.

It’s not a bad car to cruise in, just loud and it beats the hell out of you, both physically and emotionally. There’s no dead spot in the steering, and it will follow grooves and anything else in the road wherever they lead. Wind from a passing semi? Not fun. But pay attention, keep your hands on the wheel and you can send it wherever you want. It’s a brick at speed but the gearing makes a quick passing shot into any gap easy. It’s not even as small as it seems: Wheelbase and track are comparable to a modern small car, it’s just that there’s no bodywork

It bakes your feet against the aluminum firewall, and the exhaust is on the driver’s side as well. The narrow footwell means no room for anything but pedals. When things are calm you can stick your left foot behind the clutch, but any time anything looked suspicious, I pulled it out and sat with my knee in my armpit.

The weird thing was, at some point after my butt went numb, I was watching the cycle fenders rise and fall and suddenly it seemed like a perfectly normal means of transportation. Why not drive one around all the time? People drove millions of early Beetles around all the time and they didn’t hurt you any worse than this. The SV even has heat. Lots and lots of heat.

We arrived at the 7s meet site around 2AM, Jon easing his way through thick fog on the infamous Tail of the Dragon to the Fontana Village resort. Sure, the weekend at the Tapoco Lodge was great, but I spent it behind the lens and not behind the wheel, aside from a single trip in a Miata-powered Westfield, so it was actually the trip back I was waiting for. I would have flown home if I’d known. Heck, I’d have settled for a scooter.

Three miles. We made it three miles.

It looked like a chunk of wood in the road; it turned out to be a chunk of one of the cliffs lining the road, but it didn’t matter. Jon swung right to keep it away from the oil pan, it whanged the alloy undertray but good, and the ignition cut out. It had ripped out the rear O2 sensor and about three feet of wiring, which the ECU didn’t like one bit. We pushed it back down the road to a pull off and waited.

Now, on the weekends, Deal’s Gap is lousy with cars, bikes, trikes and anything else. On a weekday, it reverts to the distant backwoods of the Smoky Mountains. This was Monday. After a couple of vain attempts to get somewhere bypassing the circuit, Jon flagged down a truck heading into town—the nearest spot with cel service was a good 20 miles away.

I’ve seen Deliverance. I know what comes next. I listened to the cicadas, I sweated profusely. A truck stopped to warn me there was “a great big bear” around the next corner and I shouldn’t walk that way. Flies…sweating…dead car.

A couple hours later Jon returned with a wrecker, and we pulled the fiberglass nose section off. The wrecker boys looked at the light tubing, the alloy radiator, walked around the car a few times, and decided it was a job for the flatbed, so they headed off to their HQ, about an hour away, to make the call. Three more hours passed.

Of course, while fate could allow one guy to stand by the side of the road for a couple of hours by himself worrying about bears, chiggers and heat exhaustion, two guys had each other for company. Thus the thunderstorms, one after another. We threw the top up and shoved all our gear inside, and retreated to the nearest tree. Eventually, the flatbed showed up and I got another ride down the Dragon, this one in a Ford F-350 to Robbinsville, North Carolina. The 02 sensor was a stock Ford part and we’d found enough bits that they could figure out what was what, so at noon the next day we headed north.

It had rained a little on the way down, and with light rain the answer, as it is with most 7 questions, is to go faster. That only works up to a point, however, and we played hide and seek (mostly seek) with another afternoon of thunderstorms all the way into Virginia. Putting the top up is a pain because we had to repack all the gear each time, but it only takes a couple of minutes. The problem is, it’s a hot car to begin with, and add two bodies, 90-degree external heat and a whole lot of moisture and we were longing for the cool, refreshing heat of a North Carolina noon in July.

Thankfully, we only had to do that eight or nine times. By midnight I was mixing with adolescent partygoers on the highway in New Jersey. I turned it over to Jon at our last gas stop before the city and we entered the Lincoln Tunnel at 4:08 AM, the car still alive and well, a perfect excuse to let it out a little and make the tile walls sing our four-cylinder song.

Destination, Times Square, 4:15 AM. Homeland Security or not, at that time of the night you’re welcome to park a car anywhere you want and if you see a utility truck that would make a good photo platform, go for it. Even then, we were answering questions from onlookers as we had for the last week. Yes, it’s a real car. Yes it’s fast, yes, it’s fun.

It’s more fun than you can imagine. Almost every 7 owner competes with their car, from autocross on up, but few spend more than an hour or two at the wheel at any given time. As the mileage on Jon’s car showed, that doesn’t add up to much. Thirty-odd hours in the car gives you a different impression. With better seats and maybe a little footwell ventilation, there isn’t anything a 7 won’t do. If you’re prepared to put up with a little discomfort and maybe bend yourself to the car, rather than the other way around, you can come to a sort of agreement: You agree to suffer a little, but the car’s part of the deal is that it will do anything you ask. I can live with that.

Another Craptacular

I can't believe the WSJ would allow it's name to be associated with this sort of crap. They deserve Rupert Murdoch if their standards are this low. Is the narrator in high school, or what? Shouldn't diction be a consideration for voice work? Gah!

My Hump

I no longer remember where I got this (maybe from Lehho?)--but printing it out and putting it up on the "Things that make us smile" board at work, along with the cat and baby photos, got the "Things that make us smile" board taken down for good.

911S

Aside from the up-to-my-waist-in-poison-ivy aspect, I had a nice time with this drivableDream 911S on Monday (June 18). Here's the bulk of a proof. All images unedited--and all photos copyright © 2007. If you reproduce them for profit or without credit I will find you.



No editing or manipulation of any kind has been performed on these.

Long distance

So I left the 's' out of "Aspen" while planning my schedule for Colorado this summer. Google maps has a sense of humor--look at number 33...

A midsummer's night craptacular

Stupidest thing I've seen all week

this baby says...
Originally uploaded by faster panda kill kill

Calling Jamie

I care little about chef Jamie Oliver, but if you do, he's selling his Maserati, and he ad features his phone number:
+44 01383 820397

I suggest calling him and asking for an order "to go."

Enlarge main view

Click a thumbnail to see a larger image.

2002 MASERATI 4200 GT 2dr Coupe

Price:

£29,950

ono.

Features:

• 11,800 miles
• Manual
• BLACK
• Petrol
• 2 Door Coupe
• 2002

Full Description:

Glossary of Terms

Manual, 11,800 miles, Metallic Black, 11,800 miles, 2 Doors, manual, red bordeaux leather interior, matching wool carpets and mats, sat nav, cruise control, skyhook suspension, 6 CD autochanger, 18" alloys, electric heated seats, electric mirrors, climate control, full Maserati service history, new clutch, new brakes, discs and tyres, tracker fitted, all books and paperwork from new, mot and road tax, previous famous owner. Showroom condition - bodywork, wheels and interior immaculate. No canvassers. £29,950. ono

Private Seller:

Contact number: 01383 820397

Distance: 345 miles from sw19 3rq

America's hottest governor

Alaska's Sarah Palin. Hotness! And you know what those conservatives are like when the gloves come off...or on, depending on the gloves.

EotI

Well, here's something I haven't seen before.


I don't know if I should be proud, or sad.

Tedious still lives: Popcorn

Any similarity to the previous photo is imaginary.

From Still lives

Editors Exposed

(L-R)
Jim Menneto, Terry McGean, Mike McNessor, Craig Fizgerald

Fun with word order, Cali-style

Community News briefs: Rare Fruit Growers to meet

Community News briefs: Rare Fruit Growers to meet

By: North County Times -

OCEANSIDE -- The North San Diego County chapter of the California Rare Fruit Growers will meet at 7 p.m. May 18 in Room 7003 of the new horticultural building at MiraCosta College, 1 Barnard Drive. A film on grafting will be viewed. Information: http://members.cox.net/ncsdcrfg.

May 25 is Towel Day

You sass that hoopy Douglas Adams? Now there's a frood who knew where his towel was. You are invited
to join your fellow hitch hikers in mourning the loss of the late great one. Join in on towel day to show
your appreciation for the humor and insight that Douglas Adams brought to all our lives.

What do I do?

Carry your towel with you throughout the day to show your participation and mourning.

When do I do it?

May 25th.

Where do I do it?

Everywhere.

Why a towel?

To quote from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical
value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Let us know

We want to know who you are and that you're participating in Towel Day. Join the forum and let us
know if you're going to participate. The forum Electronic Thumb does not require you to register.

And when you have, feel free to post photos to prove that you know where your towel is!
Those go in the A shread of evidence forum which require you to register.

There are also letters written to us on the Towel Testimonials page!