Friday, June 13, 2008
I'm drivin' heah!
J and I went on a tour of Timken at Clemson's new joint venture, ICAR. First a huge thanks to Ron and Timken for allowing us to come take a look at their operation. There were around 25-30 people who showed up for the tour and were instructed to bring a racecar or unique car if they had one for a group picture. The Focus with her dented hood didn't quite make the cut. A supercharged/turbocharged Honda hatchback, 2 Lotus Elise and a Daytona Coupe were among my favorites who showed up. As the Roush built V8 powered Daytona Coupe left, it scared the crap out of J and I. The straight pipes with side exhausts were LOUD! We were also standing right next to them.
Timken is a "white collar" machining facility as described by our wonderful tour guide whose name I didn't catch. Basically it's a two story building with a plethora of engineers, math aficionados and managers upstairs who sit around and think up new bearing designs. They send those designs downstairs, get a few made and test it to see if they revolutionized bearing design or if the crack monkey is back in action and they should try again. They also have many rooms for testing all the spinning parts of an engine. They might get a design from an automobile manufacturer, or a part, and they will test it for them and send the results back.
Huge pieces of machinery that start with a spool of smooth metal and then form that into a bearing abounded. The engine testing lab was loud. They were testing the bearings around the camshafts as they spin. They use electric motors to turn all these machines instead of gas, but it's still loud. We were not allowed in the metrology lab, where they super accurately measure their parts, but it looked really neat. We walked around and I kept wondering if they hired any chemists or materials scientists. I found him! We walked past one lab which had an instrument which said spectraflame, which I can only assume was an AAS, or atomic absorption spectrometer, where the lone chemist hung out all day surrounded by engineers. I imagine any chemistry related question gets posed to him or her, whether they like it or not. J wondered how many women Timken employs. Very good question.
Then we had a lecture on sound and sound control. It drug on a bit but was also informative. The SCCA, sports car club of america, has set that no racecar can be louder than 103 decibels, but there are a few ways to beat the system, or at least use the system to your advantage.
Since I picked up J from work and she didn't want to follow me home in Tercel, we drove home together and I drove her to work this morning. It was fairly trafficky but not too bad. (I guess congested would be a better word there) There was a Jeep Cherokee left lane hogging because he felt his 72 in a 60 was fast enough to warrant it. The 4 or 5 cars backed up behind him seemed to disagree. Our exit was coming up so I accelerated into the middle lane just as the Lincoln Towncar in the middle lane was moving into the right lane, so I kept my foot in it and planned to accelerate past that car to get to my exit. Whilst this occurred, the Cherokee left lane hog encountered yet another left lane hog who was going even slower than him; a red Civic if you're curious. Cherokee sees the Towncar move over and without signaling, starts to pull into the middle lane; the only problem with that being there is an accelerating black Focus that is already plugging the hole left by the Towncar. A simple honk of my horn avoids the impending accident and I pull into the left hand lane and exit. The Cherokee does the same after I get out of the way and proceeds to get very close to the back of my car. Even when we turn onto the surface street and I slow down to the very slow 35 (especially after hitting 80ish on the freeway) with a gentle cajoling from J, he stays behind me. The speed limit goes back up to 45, still there. I move to the left lane to ready us for our turn and he stays in his lane but doesn't pass. I don't look over as he drives by but he does drive by on his way to work instead of doing something crazy like following me to work for a discussion. The strangest part is that he was a school resource officer with "Police" and lightpod on his Cherokee. When he exited with me I was mildly concerned that he would pull me over but seeing as how we were both in the wrong for speeding and he was clearly slower traffic not staying to the right and changing lanes without signaling, I wasn't too worried. So to that officer, sorry it went down like that and no hard feelings.
If I post this weekend it will entail my trip to Drift Atlanta back in May with some pics that are up on my Flickr account if you want to get a preview and check those out.
Timken is a "white collar" machining facility as described by our wonderful tour guide whose name I didn't catch. Basically it's a two story building with a plethora of engineers, math aficionados and managers upstairs who sit around and think up new bearing designs. They send those designs downstairs, get a few made and test it to see if they revolutionized bearing design or if the crack monkey is back in action and they should try again. They also have many rooms for testing all the spinning parts of an engine. They might get a design from an automobile manufacturer, or a part, and they will test it for them and send the results back.
Huge pieces of machinery that start with a spool of smooth metal and then form that into a bearing abounded. The engine testing lab was loud. They were testing the bearings around the camshafts as they spin. They use electric motors to turn all these machines instead of gas, but it's still loud. We were not allowed in the metrology lab, where they super accurately measure their parts, but it looked really neat. We walked around and I kept wondering if they hired any chemists or materials scientists. I found him! We walked past one lab which had an instrument which said spectraflame, which I can only assume was an AAS, or atomic absorption spectrometer, where the lone chemist hung out all day surrounded by engineers. I imagine any chemistry related question gets posed to him or her, whether they like it or not. J wondered how many women Timken employs. Very good question.
Then we had a lecture on sound and sound control. It drug on a bit but was also informative. The SCCA, sports car club of america, has set that no racecar can be louder than 103 decibels, but there are a few ways to beat the system, or at least use the system to your advantage.
Since I picked up J from work and she didn't want to follow me home in Tercel, we drove home together and I drove her to work this morning. It was fairly trafficky but not too bad. (I guess congested would be a better word there) There was a Jeep Cherokee left lane hogging because he felt his 72 in a 60 was fast enough to warrant it. The 4 or 5 cars backed up behind him seemed to disagree. Our exit was coming up so I accelerated into the middle lane just as the Lincoln Towncar in the middle lane was moving into the right lane, so I kept my foot in it and planned to accelerate past that car to get to my exit. Whilst this occurred, the Cherokee left lane hog encountered yet another left lane hog who was going even slower than him; a red Civic if you're curious. Cherokee sees the Towncar move over and without signaling, starts to pull into the middle lane; the only problem with that being there is an accelerating black Focus that is already plugging the hole left by the Towncar. A simple honk of my horn avoids the impending accident and I pull into the left hand lane and exit. The Cherokee does the same after I get out of the way and proceeds to get very close to the back of my car. Even when we turn onto the surface street and I slow down to the very slow 35 (especially after hitting 80ish on the freeway) with a gentle cajoling from J, he stays behind me. The speed limit goes back up to 45, still there. I move to the left lane to ready us for our turn and he stays in his lane but doesn't pass. I don't look over as he drives by but he does drive by on his way to work instead of doing something crazy like following me to work for a discussion. The strangest part is that he was a school resource officer with "Police" and lightpod on his Cherokee. When he exited with me I was mildly concerned that he would pull me over but seeing as how we were both in the wrong for speeding and he was clearly slower traffic not staying to the right and changing lanes without signaling, I wasn't too worried. So to that officer, sorry it went down like that and no hard feelings.
If I post this weekend it will entail my trip to Drift Atlanta back in May with some pics that are up on my Flickr account if you want to get a preview and check those out.
Labels: chemistry, driving record, Focus, police, racing, Tercel
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Yesterday was Post #777!
Please keep the families of those affected by the Minnesota Bridge Collapse in your thoughts today. You might want to keep the contractors, architects and engineers in your thoughts once people have recovered enough to start pointing fingers.
As I was driving to work this morning there was a Clemson police officer in front of me. I got caught at the light and he went on ahead. I knew we were getting into prime speed trap territory for the clemson police department. For those interested, here's a google map of that specific location. Send me an email if you want some other Clemson speed trap locations. I know of 2-3 in addition to this one. See the tennis courts? They love to sit across the road (the house directly across is Mellow Mushroom) to the right of the tennis courts and get people coming up that road toward downtown. It's a 25 but cars can easily get up to 40 or so. Traveling from right to left, see the first grassy area with the big nasty brown spots? They love to sit there and get people coming from downtown. The speed limit goes to 35 right there but until there it's a 25 and it's downhill so ca-ching! ca-ching! Big cash cow speed ticket spot.
So we're heading into the danger zone. I'm in the left lane cuz the right lane is blocked by some beer trucks being unloaded. A small Ranger/S-10 truck is behind me and zooms past once we get clear of the traffic. I want to warn him that there was a cop up there and I'm not sure where he went, but there was no time and he's an adult who can make his own (stupid) decisions. I was doing maybe 32 and he goes whizzing by in the right lane. As I slow down for my left turn onto campus, I see my officer buddy sitting in the parking lot I just told you about shooting radar. I come to a stop and for traffic to clear so I can turn and I see the officer pull out, flip on his lights and take off. Got one! There's another (at least) $76 and 2 points for the City of Clemson. Good job! And as the saying goes "Better you than me" (or my wife, as the case may be)
I'll be passing through ATL this weekend on my way to B'ham and my other grandmother's house which is about 1.5 hours north of the Ham. Just a note to any aspiring rappers from Birmingham, do NOT refer to our city as the Ham or B'Ham. It isn't cool. It doesn't sound cool. It may rhyme well but that doesn't matter. Lets just use the airport code like they did in Atlanta (ATL) and go with BHM. It sounds cooler and more industrial and therefore, hardcore. Just my 2 cents.
But I'm visiting with my brother before he goes back to the Dark Continent (hmmm, just googled that and it might refer to skin color which is awful but this blogger thinks it now refers to actual light and how technology advanced that continent is (not). My brother taught at a school somewhere in here last year and is going back for another year. After that, who knows? My grandmother wants him to go back and finish seminary, which isn't a terrible idea, he only has a year left and it would be nice to have something to show for all that work and learning ancient languages (Greek and Hebrew).
Fuck. My blog is only G-rated. Eh, I guess it isn't that bad.
Cool, that's better. Well, maybe this blog could be informative for someone under 17.
There we go, I like my blog being PG-13. You can use one curse word but only as an expletive, some non-sexual nudity (boobs for boobs sake) and some non-realistic violence. Nice.
As I was driving to work this morning there was a Clemson police officer in front of me. I got caught at the light and he went on ahead. I knew we were getting into prime speed trap territory for the clemson police department. For those interested, here's a google map of that specific location. Send me an email if you want some other Clemson speed trap locations. I know of 2-3 in addition to this one. See the tennis courts? They love to sit across the road (the house directly across is Mellow Mushroom) to the right of the tennis courts and get people coming up that road toward downtown. It's a 25 but cars can easily get up to 40 or so. Traveling from right to left, see the first grassy area with the big nasty brown spots? They love to sit there and get people coming from downtown. The speed limit goes to 35 right there but until there it's a 25 and it's downhill so ca-ching! ca-ching! Big cash cow speed ticket spot.
So we're heading into the danger zone. I'm in the left lane cuz the right lane is blocked by some beer trucks being unloaded. A small Ranger/S-10 truck is behind me and zooms past once we get clear of the traffic. I want to warn him that there was a cop up there and I'm not sure where he went, but there was no time and he's an adult who can make his own (stupid) decisions. I was doing maybe 32 and he goes whizzing by in the right lane. As I slow down for my left turn onto campus, I see my officer buddy sitting in the parking lot I just told you about shooting radar. I come to a stop and for traffic to clear so I can turn and I see the officer pull out, flip on his lights and take off. Got one! There's another (at least) $76 and 2 points for the City of Clemson. Good job! And as the saying goes "Better you than me" (or my wife, as the case may be)
I'll be passing through ATL this weekend on my way to B'ham and my other grandmother's house which is about 1.5 hours north of the Ham. Just a note to any aspiring rappers from Birmingham, do NOT refer to our city as the Ham or B'Ham. It isn't cool. It doesn't sound cool. It may rhyme well but that doesn't matter. Lets just use the airport code like they did in Atlanta (ATL) and go with BHM. It sounds cooler and more industrial and therefore, hardcore. Just my 2 cents.
But I'm visiting with my brother before he goes back to the Dark Continent (hmmm, just googled that and it might refer to skin color which is awful but this blogger thinks it now refers to actual light and how technology advanced that continent is (not). My brother taught at a school somewhere in here last year and is going back for another year. After that, who knows? My grandmother wants him to go back and finish seminary, which isn't a terrible idea, he only has a year left and it would be nice to have something to show for all that work and learning ancient languages (Greek and Hebrew).
Fuck. My blog is only G-rated. Eh, I guess it isn't that bad.
Cool, that's better. Well, maybe this blog could be informative for someone under 17.
There we go, I like my blog being PG-13. You can use one curse word but only as an expletive, some non-sexual nudity (boobs for boobs sake) and some non-realistic violence. Nice.
Labels: MPAA ratings, police, speed trap, ticket
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Why oh why can't she drive 55?
Guess who got busted doing 80 in a 65 this morning? If you're first impulse is me, let me tell you that the highest speed limit I see on my way to work is 35. For me to do 80 in a 35, that's basically a death wish and instant wreckless endangerment and a free "Straight to Jail" card.
Yeah, my lovely wife J. She's a friggin' speed demon. And she can't see well, so she never spots the cops until the radar detector goes off or they're right behind her with lights ablaze.
Bah. Any helpful suggestions or comments would be appreciated.
As punishment she has to drive Tercel to work for at least a month, when I finally get her shocks fixed.
Everything comes down to money, or at least that's the way it seems on first glance. Why does J speed? She thinks speed limits are arbitrary and stupid (partially right), she thinks speeding tickets are just fundraisers for police departments and a way for said departments to gauge productivity of their officers (more than partially right) and ultimately she can't wait to be rich cuz then she can speed and speed and just keep paying the tickets and then hire a lawyer or a driver once her license gets suspended (again).
I don't know.
We no longer have the internet at our house. The person whose wireless signal we were borrowing moved out and left us incommunicado. It's very frustrating and seemingly our only two options to get it are cable or DSL. To get DSL you have to pay Bellsouth for both the phone line and the DSL service, which is outrageous. Cable isn't as bad, but it's still pricey for a decent connection.
Hopefully we can just limp along through May and our new place will have a local wireless signal.
Yeah, my lovely wife J. She's a friggin' speed demon. And she can't see well, so she never spots the cops until the radar detector goes off or they're right behind her with lights ablaze.
Bah. Any helpful suggestions or comments would be appreciated.
As punishment she has to drive Tercel to work for at least a month, when I finally get her shocks fixed.
Everything comes down to money, or at least that's the way it seems on first glance. Why does J speed? She thinks speed limits are arbitrary and stupid (partially right), she thinks speeding tickets are just fundraisers for police departments and a way for said departments to gauge productivity of their officers (more than partially right) and ultimately she can't wait to be rich cuz then she can speed and speed and just keep paying the tickets and then hire a lawyer or a driver once her license gets suspended (again).
I don't know.
We no longer have the internet at our house. The person whose wireless signal we were borrowing moved out and left us incommunicado. It's very frustrating and seemingly our only two options to get it are cable or DSL. To get DSL you have to pay Bellsouth for both the phone line and the DSL service, which is outrageous. Cable isn't as bad, but it's still pricey for a decent connection.
Hopefully we can just limp along through May and our new place will have a local wireless signal.
Labels: internet, police, ticket
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