The Anatomy of Græy

 

My favorite color is gray, or grey as some call it. Have you ever wondered why it's spelled both ways? In every past conversation I had on this matter, people find both spellings acceptable but all have a preference to one or the other. I recently read a web document where they used both spellings in different areas. The spelling with e was used for the explanation of the color and the spelling with an a for all the examples of the color. 

I recently discovered that both spellings are correct. In the New World the standard usage is with an a. In the Old World they tend to use e. What's the reasoning? Modern printing is to blame. The original spelling was actually with a ligature: æ. Yes, both letters, often called "ash", were used. That is why we say it the same way yet spell it differently. Typography made ligatures fade from use. I suppose it was simpler to keep a smaller variety of frequently used vowels. For some reason the New World dropped the e and the Old World the a. I might start using the ligature if I figure the key combo to bring it up. 

More importantly is why is this my favorite when some don't even consider it a color. I admit I was once a fan of green which morphed to blue over the years. Then brown, then blue then started back to green, stuck at a turquoise shade. Then suddenly gray. It's peaceful. It calms me. It is versitile and can be light or dark as the mood changes. It's not bright like white. It's not intense like black. Yet it can get close to either without really changing. If you are dark and brooding but want to smile, use grey. If you are bright and cheerful but want a dark soul, use grey. The message will be hidden and you will be happy. 

photo: 

my turquoise bike ©2019 

Number 3

It took me three years to finish her but it is worth it!

WAIT! 

Four years after starting this blog post I realize I stopped blogging and never finished this post!

So seven years after starting to work on this bike I'm still working on it! This is my daily rider, or before covid it was. It's still my regular rider. When I'm on my Sunday ride this is the bike. When I just go practice track stands, this is the bike. When I just want to tinker on a bike, you know, I have four bikes so maybe this one will be it.

Meanwhile, it's undergone a few changes. No longer just like this, but similar. The color is the same. There is now a front rack. It's small but I don't often carry more than a jacket or bag. I have two basic configurations, Winter and Summer. Today it's in Winter. The tires are fatter and knobbed. The gearing is lower, I have a 42/19or20 setup. Nineteen is fixed, twenty is freewheel. I keep it in fixed most of the time. I also have a front and rear fender. The front is mainly a mud guard. The Summer setup is 46/16 fixed. Taller gears to go faster. I remove the fenders. and put on skinny tires. Not real skinny, about 40 mm so I can still ride dirt and gravel. This bike is a joy, mostly because I ride it. 

Here are pictures of the Winter and Summer setup.

Fresh chocolate!

This is what the inside of a 25 pound box of chocolate pieces looks like. This happens to be cranberry-orange chocolate from Theo's. Their factory is a few blocks from my work and they are a good customers of ours.   Inclusions, the cranberry, and oil's, the orange, can weaken the bars which causes them to break. The inclusions also make it difficult to recycle or remedy. So they can't be sold. Somehow they end up at my work where we do our part to prevent waste. Tasty! My job sucks sometimes. 😎

Fresh wax!

Beeswax to be precise. I stopped at Ballard farmers market to get some produce and bought a pound of beeswax. I use beeswax to waterproof the bag I carry to work on my bike. It usually only takes a quarter to half an ounce, so I'll have a bit left over to share with family and friends.  I'm also going to get a shirt at the thrift store on senior Tuesday and wax it for those light rain days. Oh! And i have a drawer slide to wax so it's smooth. Pretty handy material to have around the house. 

Buying direct from the farmer saves me money! That's a good reason to buy from the farmer. And they have great honey if you're into that. 

Fresh beer!

I stopped by Stoup Brewery on my bike ride home and filled my growelet with their fresh Marzan. It's truly one of the best beers I've ever drank. Here in Ballard there about a dozen breweries within walking distance of my work I have close to 200 beers to choose from. "Big Brewer" can control distribution where you live, but I buy brewery direct. Support Craft beer!

The Prius is a Lie

H

Hybrid Cake

You've heard it recently; "I was stuck behind a Prius on the way to work again"

 

A few yeas ago it was pickups, later SUV's we were getting stuck behind, now it's hybrids. It's not the Prius itself. They are a peppy car, maneuverable and quick. They can scoot up a steep grade as quick as any vehicle it's size, maybe quicker. And you really can't blame the drivers, though you want to, as they are well meaning but delusional. Who or what should we blame?

It's the Lie. 

A few years ago there was a popular meme on the internet, it was "The cake is a lie." It was used in random irc and discussion boards to indicate you are being fooled or having your leg pulled. It comes from a video game in which you, as a player, are promised cake, but it never materializes. The Prius is a lie. You believe the lie when you purchase a hybrid and then when you find its not real you ignore that fact and try and create the cake in your mind. The rest of us suffer from your delusion by getting stuck behind you on the freeway. Let it go, you can not get 50 plus miles per gallon. 

The engine used in a Prius is de-rated. That means it is not as powerful as it's full rated version used in other cars such as the Yaris. The Yaris can get 40 miles per gallon so how can a version that is not as powerful get better? It can not, don't argue, think. It's a hybrid, it runs on batteries part of the time. It can travel fifty miles and use a gallon of gas, technically it can travel even further using only a gallon. If you are running the engine to move the car you measure the distance you travel and fuel used in mpg or miles per gallon.  I have seen records of the early Prius going 26 mpg. The newer ones can do much better, maybe 35 mpg. When you switch over to batteries you no longer use fuel so you can no longer log miles on gas. You are now traveling on Kilovolt hours. You don't hear any one bragging about kVh in their Prius, but they should. Again, the newer cars do better in that area than the older ones.  

Am I being nitpicky? OH Hell Yes!!! We are now to the root of the problem. As the batteries age they lose efficiency. The drivers realizing that tend to take it easy on them. Climbing a steep grade with less power in gas, and batteries no longer at their peak, causes the drivers to hold back. Traffic is held back behind them. Long stretches on the highway can do this as well. Even worse are the "50 milers," those owners who actually do travel further than fifty miles using a gallon. They use all the fuel efficiency tricks we have known about for years. Including driving 55 in a 65 zone. Which would be OK if they stay in the slow lane but due to high tire inflation and rough roads from truck traffic, the slow lane is uncomfortable. So they move into the fast lane. We have name for these people but I won't repeat it now.

Just saying...    

Cash Divide

Cash is a burden on our society.
The other day I was in a big box store and was selecting a line in which to check out. There was a "Fast Check" for 10 items or less with 2 people standing in line and there was a regular line with one person and maybe 30 items. I wisely chose the fast check lane. Wise I say, because it taught me a lesson, and any time you choose to learn is wise.

Getting to my point, the person in the regular line was out the door and the next person with a large cart of merchandise was half complete before we started checking. As you have most likely concluded by the title of this story, cash was the reason it was slow. Or to be precise the interchange of a cash transaction when one or both parties are mathematically challenged was the issue. Two transactions with cash took longer than the quick swipe of a card.

In the William Gibson novel "Neuromancer" published in 1984, society had stopped using cash and had adopted a token that could let the inhabitants exchange monies electronically. With current technologies and applications such as Square Wallet and Paypal Here, we are technologically at the point where this can be a reality. There is a coffee shop near my work where I can walk in and tell them to use Square. They see my image on the screen which validates identity and they can debit my account. I don't even have to get my phone out. It's also possible to accept a credit card at your garage sale from your neighbor.

Technology is here but society is fighting it. Change is difficult for those locked in their 18th century bunkers.

Time

It's a nice morning. I'm sitting in a Santa Barbara courtyard with red tile roofs. Staying dry. It's not cold. There's a fountain gurgling and the rain is falling softly on the bird of paradise next to me. There is a scent. I'm not sure which flower yet but it's heavy sweet. Maybe geranium? No, no musty taste. There is a stair leading down from the courtyard partially hidden by a low wall behind me. I can hear a clapping of a woman's shoe coming up the stairs. She is on her toes as I don't hear a heel. She turns away from the courtyard at the top so I never see her.

Bells ring out. Westminster abbey I think the chime is called. Eleven chimes. Now another church further in the distance rings it's bells. Both bells alternating. The age of the building and the ancient time keeping has a pleasant contrast to typing on my phone. Once the bells stop it again becomes quiet except for the rain and the gurgling fountain.

This rain, you would like this rain.

TLA

I wonder.
Are they still together? Was it true love? Where are they now? But most of all I wonder...
How much hell did Bryan catch for spelling errors?

This memorial is in a driveway in an older part of town. From the appearance and location I would guess this to have been from the late 60's or 70's. Possibly older. The house is now a business and the driveway is on a side street behind the deli. It's used for parking now. I also wonder how many people step on this admission and never notice the omission ?

the_heart.jpg a.thurston 2012

Light on

Sometimes I can be a kid. I'm walking around target in the early morning. They have energy efficient light controllers in the freezer aisles. As you move into the aisle the sensors pick up your movement and turn t he lights on in the cases. If there were a lot of people shopping you would most likely never know this. But in the early morning they are fun. you turn into a darken aisle and the lights go on, one case at a time. If you hold still long enough, they go off. I tried to "sneak" into the aisle but the sensors are well placed. They must have had children in mind when they designed them.

The Dishes

The dishes are hard to love. And by dishes I mean the verb. Not the traditional meaning of the verb "to serve up" but the informal common use, to wash the frigging things. I wash dishes. Mostly my own, sometimes others. I find it difficult to cook while they pile up on the counters. But for that very reason I have grown to love the dishes. It's a meditative thing. You can concentrate on the next aspect of the meal while you reduce the mess and clutter. If you have a small place and limited utensils this is important. It's necessary. It's part of your game.

Finding joy in the simple necessary tasks is part of learning to cope with a stress of everyday life. So shut up and pass the sponge.

The New Radar

A few days ago I was shown a demonstration of technology that has me worried. If it falls into the wrong hands it will be disastrous. The wrong hands being defined as the right hands by the law. It's inevitable that it will and so I warn you now.

If you are familiar with  aviation then you will know what a transponder is. If not, then in simple terms, it's a way to identify an individual aircraft by radar. The pilot of the craft sets a code and the air traffic controller knows which plane on the radar screen is yours. Nice feature that's been around for years. Now they would have trouble passing a law requiring these on autos, talk about self incrimination for speeders. What they can do is identify your cell phone. The device I saw could only identified individual devices. It did not tell you who owned them. But it could remotely track the device and calculate your speed. Evil concept if the law could have that data and ID the phone. What places you in the car? A call to a local patrol and they pull you over. The use of proximity keys and Near Field will even make that easier for the bad guys.

This currently only indicates the cell phone was in the car and was on. If you turn it off there is no way to track you. But if you turn it off, how can you text and drive?

Pizza is dead

I use to believe in pizza. At one time my world revolved around pizza. I worshipped pizza. I was young and very involved. I thought seriously about devoting my life to pizza when I grew older. I was raised by an Irish-Italian mother and we were strict in our devotion to pizza. I knew all the toppings and followed the way of the sauce every Sunday. I studied the history of pizza in the new world and that of ancient Rome. Pizza was my life.

But as I grew up I became more jaded. I was exposed to those who dedicated themselves to pizza but had another agenda. I saw the abusers in action. I saw the lives they destroyed in the name of their pizza. It hurt my soul deeply and I moved away from pizza. But I couldn't abandon pizza entirely. I tried to insist that pizza had no part in my life. But in times of strife I called out for it; and it was delivered. I continued to search for the true deeper meaning of pizza but grew tired and wary.

Then I found curry.
Curry does not care if you are young or old. It does not care if you are one race or another. It does not care if you are straight or gay. It is not indifferent, it is nurturing. It fills your soul with joy and your senses with spice. It can be sweet, it can be hot. It can be vegetarian or have the meat of your choice. It does not restrict you to a shape like pizza does. The ingredients are mixed "in" not on top where they can fall off. It is the spice of life.

And if you can not let go of pizza, curry does not care. You can put curry on pizza.

Church_top jpg by anson © 2012

Trophy/Hunter

Occasionally a man gets to a certain age, divorces his wife and remarries a younger woman. These women are referred to as "Trophy Wives" as if they were some sort of prize. We also refer to big game hunters that hang stuffed remains on their walls as "Trophy Hunters." 

If we combine the meaning of those two words then miniaturize it you arrive at Sid. Her image is above. She is my "Trophy Cat" because she is young and quite beautiful. 

She also kills things, for fun. 

trophy_cat jpg by anson © 2012

One pissed off humming bird.

 We have one pissed off humming bird. He just needs his quick fix of energy drink to get through his morning and he has to wait in line. Not only that but those in line in front of him keep letting their friends take cutsies. I've been there. Waiting for my morning coffee at the coffee shop and some gym rat in front of me let's all her sweaty gym rat cohorts order their drinks as they walk in off the street. Sometimes they apologize most times they do not. Does this piss me off? No, I'm older and find it fascinating that they would go out in public smelling so badly yet dressed so chic. Will I say anything? No, they might sting me. 

Feeder_line jpg by anson © 2012

Black Widow Attack!

I was aware of their presence. They lurk in the shadows under cartons. protecting  their nest, their webs, their very existence. But in spite of that knowledge I challenged them. With my bare hands I destroyed everything they created. I tossed it aside with hardly a care. And they did what came natural to them. They used their defenses and bit me. It was a small bite, it was a small Black Widow. It hardly penetrated the skin and where it did, on my cuticle, the skin is thick and tough. The resulting bite was merely a small black patch where the damage was done. I had a similar bite a few years ago when I stuck my hand in a glove. That time I felt the prick. I turned the glove inside out and found the remains of the attacker still twitching. From then on I danced on my garden gloves prior to putting my hands inside. This time it was not gloves, I reached into the nest.

The day after my back was stiff and I felt tired. I thought it might be from working in the yard. But thinking back it was probably the last stages of an assault I thought I won.

Blog jam

Since I started blogging there have many times I've had dry spells where I just didn't know what I could say. This last two weeks have been different I have so much to say that I can't decide what to say first. So nothing came out.
Picture a river in the northwest jammed with logs. I am carefully walking out on the mass of logs using my Peavey hook to balance with. Or maybe it's a PowerBook sitting on my couch, I forget. If I'm not careful, once free, the moving logs could crush me. Do I take that chance or do I wait until summer when the raging current from the melting snow bank has subsided? I can't wait. The ideas flow, and I fall into the water. Standing in the mud I realize it's only a foot deep. Idea's formed by words take on any shape we want.
new_shroom.jpg by anson © 2012

My neighborhood

I like living in the country. It has it's disadvantages, the biggest one being that running to the corner market is a five mile drive. But it also has some big advantages. My nearest neighbor can't hear my 5.1 sound system booming while I'm watching a movie. The locked gate at the bottom of the hill keeps the proselytizers away.

One thing that is noticeably different is the signs posted on the telephone poles. Instead of the usual lost/found cat/dog we get similar reading signs for livestock. Goat and chickens are the norm but occasionally someone will misplace a larger animal such as a horse or cow. How do you misplace a cow?

Most people don't give bovines credit for how smart they are. Even ranchers make the mistake. They compare them to other mammals like dogs for instance. Dogs are pack animals and predators like man. So their normal behavior mimics ours and we recognize that as smart. Cows are grazers and herd animals. We put them in pastures where they hang out and eat and we protect them. So we see that as stupid. But is it?

If you go to a popular vacation resort you see people fenced in around a waterhole grazing on fattening foods. They can get out anytime they want and you know it. They don't. They choose to be there all fenced in taking an occasional dip in the water to cool off and drink iced drinks. Sound pretty stupid if you think about it.

So if you lead a herd animal to a pasture and let it hang out, isn't that paradise to it? Don't be surprised when it decides to hop the fence and wonder down the road. Of course the biggest argument by some livestock owners is that the cow has no idea of what is going to happen to it in the end. But neither do you.

photo: found_cow.jpg by Anson © 2012

Wake up call

3:50 am, the phone rings jolting the entire household awake. Groggy I reach for the phone as it rings again. By the time I fumble it to my ear the caller has hung up. A quick check of caller ID reveals, I missed a call from Jesus.

He must have inadvertently called and hung up realizing he dialed the wrong number. I figured he was really trying to call his ride to work to say he was running late or was at a wedding feast yesterday and wasn't going to work. For some reason I thought he would have a job that started early like in the home trade, possibly a carpenter or framer.

The thing that intrigued me is, I knew it was Jesus because I had caller ID. Before its invention how would you be sure it wasn't a 3 am prank call?

photo: phone_call.jpg by Anson © 2012

Snow way!

Well it didn't snow last night though it could yet today. But this morning on my way back from the market we got a nasty hail storm. Remember, this is central coast California. We don't normally get snow or hail or sleet. We get sun then we get rain then fog. Nothing more. But today we got hail. Lots of it. For almost an hour. And it was cold too!  </state obvious>

Driving in was a fun experience. The joyful patter as it pounded on the car hood and roof. The intrigue of navigation on a wet and slippery road, The laughter as we skipped over puddles hydroplaning as we went along. I  had to get out of the car to open the gate at the end of the driveway. The hail was sticking to my sweatshirt and slowly melting. I had time to brush it off and was fascinated on how you could be in a storm and not get that wet!

I imagine if I lived somewhere where this was a regular occurrence I would probably be annoyed.

photo: Oh_hail.jpg by Anson © 2012