The first space shuttle launched in 1981, less than one year after I was born. Through out my conscious life, in the background, on the news and in the papers, there has been the constant roar of space shuttle missions. Now this currently is the last one.
Before the ubiquitous internet presence, I remember being pleasantly surprised in middle or high school when I'd read that a shuttle mission had launched. The best times were when I'd stumble across a Nat Geo (or similiar) article in say the dentist's office, describing the tech behind the crafts. Then in college with the internet at hand, I would eagerly follow the building of the space station, hardly believing it could ever become as large as it did. I wasn't necessarily aware of the mission particulars, other than maybe "adding another module" or "solar panels," but I was always extremely happy to know it was happening. And Extra extremely happy to know they were building a science-lab-trailer-park in the sky. Its hard to describe but I felt warm inside knowing more shuttle launches were coming... like spring times.
Now I have nothing to look forward to, from our friends at NASA.
Here's a good link.
And a wonderful infographic.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Companies hate makers
Everyday I'm hustling
Being unemployed, I've been too busy with the things I work while unemployed, to document what it is I do when I'm unemployed.
I've been building things. Some things I've made to sell, trying to turn a profit. I haven't been hugely success in making money, but I have caught some eyes. I've also been working on car weight scales, a new battery powered welder, helping a friend bring a turbo car back to life and converting some big old used RC planes to electric. Also, learning how to fly RC planes. Turns out it is little harder than i thought, especially in the New Mexico wind, but foam plane I'm practicing on is easy to glue back together.
All these projects are awesome and whatnot, but I don't have the time to document the work. Come visit New Mexico and you can lend a hand.
Also, I spend a lot of time looking for a job, sending out emails, updating linkedin profiles and the like, but that stuff is just depressing.
I've been building things. Some things I've made to sell, trying to turn a profit. I haven't been hugely success in making money, but I have caught some eyes. I've also been working on car weight scales, a new battery powered welder, helping a friend bring a turbo car back to life and converting some big old used RC planes to electric. Also, learning how to fly RC planes. Turns out it is little harder than i thought, especially in the New Mexico wind, but foam plane I'm practicing on is easy to glue back together.
All these projects are awesome and whatnot, but I don't have the time to document the work. Come visit New Mexico and you can lend a hand.
Also, I spend a lot of time looking for a job, sending out emails, updating linkedin profiles and the like, but that stuff is just depressing.
Monday, May 30, 2011
the desert
View Larger Map
I have returned from here. Unfortunately there is no known conventional way to capture the vast scenery, so details will only be relayed in person and at a bar.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Monday, May 09, 2011
Check out these pipes!
Before presenting the fourth and likely final installment of my Introduction to Albuquerque Series, a brief interlude.
MOTORCYCLE PARTS!
(I know, you're saying something like "I thought you were poor and unemployed..." to which I would say "shut up.")
Turns out I found these rare, Japan-only-aftermarket, light weight and low profile exhaust pipes on ebay. USED!
Here's what came off the bike:
I previously added the black tape, that now looks a little beat up due to the harshness of being moved across the country in the back of a truck. Stock weight, 30lbs.
Here's what It looks like now:
and on the other side:
New weight: 10lbs! Also it looks way cleaner and sounds like awesome grenades. Overall the bike still looks a little too shiny so I may add the black tape to these as well. Also, in the last picture, now that the fat ugly mufflers are gone, the center stand is hanging out under the bike. This is kind of like walking around with your dingus hanging out... Convenient, but really you should do something about it. I'm thinking about removing it to save more weight and give the bike an even cleaner look. (This is where the dingus analogy breaks down)
MOTORCYCLE PARTS!
(I know, you're saying something like "I thought you were poor and unemployed..." to which I would say "shut up.")
Turns out I found these rare, Japan-only-aftermarket, light weight and low profile exhaust pipes on ebay. USED!
Here's what came off the bike:
I previously added the black tape, that now looks a little beat up due to the harshness of being moved across the country in the back of a truck. Stock weight, 30lbs.
Here's what It looks like now:
and on the other side:
New weight: 10lbs! Also it looks way cleaner and sounds like awesome grenades. Overall the bike still looks a little too shiny so I may add the black tape to these as well. Also, in the last picture, now that the fat ugly mufflers are gone, the center stand is hanging out under the bike. This is kind of like walking around with your dingus hanging out... Convenient, but really you should do something about it. I'm thinking about removing it to save more weight and give the bike an even cleaner look. (This is where the dingus analogy breaks down)
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Albuquerque pt 3: Unemployment
First, let us reflect on all that we've already learned about Albuquerque.
Why is it that every time I graduate from college, I must then fall into a state of un- and under-employment? I've been in New Mexico over a month and suspect I am no closer to jobiness than, say, a month ago. No matter I suppose, since I would always choose unemployment in New Mexico over Ohio.
On the up side, I've not before experienced the freedom of several weeks without daily classroom or work responsibility. I've been almost overwhelmed with the possible projects I could work on and seem to find myself split between "house," "hobby" and "money schemes."
House projects have been numerous and mostly small, almost always focusing on organization, but I'm currently in the midst of some hardcore staining of naked wood bookshelves.
Hobby projects have mostly been pushed aside or geared towards crazy money schemes. I've taken to selling things on Etsy and Ebay (perhaps more about this later) and I'm trying to get my crazy vehicles scales made, since I think I could sell them for about 4x the cost of parts. Though the big payoff would come from a welder-kit design that may or may not be in the works.
There's so much to do and so much that could be done, it's hard to stay focused. So I put in some work on the projects and the body every day. (Did I forget to mention? I'm not a fat grad student slob anymore, which is nice.)
unfortunately there is a down side and funemployment is not all beer and skittles. Severe cash drought causes of desert of untended hopes and dreams stretching as far as the eye can see. Fireproof race suits sit on shelves while race cars race without me. Light weight, extra wide Miata wheels lean against garage walls waiting for new rubber and naturally aspirated engines go un-boosted. Vacation plans are pushed back, rare/crazy southwest cars are un-purchased and sometimes... cheap beer is drank.
They say Hunter S. T. would pawn his typewriter in thin times, only to buy it back later. Now that I'm an ipad owner, I can certainly see the parallel, but it just doesn't have the same romantic twang. Or something.
It all kind of makes me want to do something like this:
Though I don't think cactus will stack up quite as nicely...
Why is it that every time I graduate from college, I must then fall into a state of un- and under-employment? I've been in New Mexico over a month and suspect I am no closer to jobiness than, say, a month ago. No matter I suppose, since I would always choose unemployment in New Mexico over Ohio.
On the up side, I've not before experienced the freedom of several weeks without daily classroom or work responsibility. I've been almost overwhelmed with the possible projects I could work on and seem to find myself split between "house," "hobby" and "money schemes."
House projects have been numerous and mostly small, almost always focusing on organization, but I'm currently in the midst of some hardcore staining of naked wood bookshelves.
Hobby projects have mostly been pushed aside or geared towards crazy money schemes. I've taken to selling things on Etsy and Ebay (perhaps more about this later) and I'm trying to get my crazy vehicles scales made, since I think I could sell them for about 4x the cost of parts. Though the big payoff would come from a welder-kit design that may or may not be in the works.
There's so much to do and so much that could be done, it's hard to stay focused. So I put in some work on the projects and the body every day. (Did I forget to mention? I'm not a fat grad student slob anymore, which is nice.)
unfortunately there is a down side and funemployment is not all beer and skittles. Severe cash drought causes of desert of untended hopes and dreams stretching as far as the eye can see. Fireproof race suits sit on shelves while race cars race without me. Light weight, extra wide Miata wheels lean against garage walls waiting for new rubber and naturally aspirated engines go un-boosted. Vacation plans are pushed back, rare/crazy southwest cars are un-purchased and sometimes... cheap beer is drank.
They say Hunter S. T. would pawn his typewriter in thin times, only to buy it back later. Now that I'm an ipad owner, I can certainly see the parallel, but it just doesn't have the same romantic twang. Or something.
It all kind of makes me want to do something like this:
Though I don't think cactus will stack up quite as nicely...
Monday, May 02, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Albuquerque pt 2: The cars
Subtitle: Death and Life of the Euro Sports Wagon.
(pronounced SpÖrts "VA-gun")
From my single previous and brief visit to New Mexico, I knew that the American South West was a good place to be a car enthusiast. I mean, this place has a junkyard pretty much devoted to Cadillacs! Imagine: a place where your large metal machines rust away over several decades, rather than the meager several years I was accustomed to. Sure, the sun will rot the interiors and the dust storms dull the paint... but who cares about that stuff?
I already have a solid mental inventory of the interesting vehicles that live around my house... There's the guy with the new Challenger and New Vette, I think he's a bit unusual here, owning two newer awesome cars and no classics. There's the guy with the Fox Body Mustang and old, minty Mazda 626, plus new Mazda 3. There's the house with the pair of matching, late 90's red Camaros (one with a trailer hitch), plus a vintage Camaro under the cover. Or at least that's what Challenger guy says- I've never seen the cover come off. Then there's the House with the two old VW Beatles, PLUS a new mini and a first gen Miata. Also there's the House with the old Ford Pick up (BRIGHT YELLOW!) and old dodge panel van, both looking about perfect. Anyway, this list goes on.
The only real problem I see with this place is the absence of jobs, or at minimum, jobs for me. I'm surrounded by old and unique cars, many for sale at discount prices and I can't afford to collect them! (Expect updates on the job situation in part 3 of this 4 part series) See, every time I venture into the streets (cyber, e.g. Craigslist, or otherwise) I'm assaulted by a litany of Fiats, Cadillacs and quirky hatchbacks that I NEED to experience. Also, there appears to be a high number of Ford SVT Raptors (think of it as a limited production baja truck) and Dodge Magnums. The Raptors make sense because, well, this is a good place to practice you baja-trucking, but I want to talk about the magnums. Dodge magnums are wagon versions of the Dodge charger/Chrysler 300 platform. (some countries received a Chrysler 300 wagon, but not us).
The magnum is a great car because its big, power, American, and wagon!. You could get it with a V6, a V8 and a BIGGER V8, the last being the SRT model. I would always see them in Detroit, but when it comes to cars, Detroit is something of a rare bird, which is why I was surprised to see so many here in Albuquerque. See the down side is, the magnum was never offered with a manual transmission, which brings me to my second point: The Death of Euro Sport Wagon.
See, the European-style Sport wagon (not to be confused with the Eurosport Wagon) is that traditionally European-made wagon, often based on a sedan platform, featuring decent power and handling and at least OFFERED with a manual transmission. The Physicist has a Euro Sport wagon; A Saab 9-5, turbo charged with a 5spd which offers the best compromise of utility and fun to drive. the problem is, the Saab in question is a 2002 model and getting a bit tired. Plus, being a Saab, it is just this side of impossible to work on. So what can replace it? The European companies (BMW, Mercedes, Volvo, Saab) are still making wagons, but the manual transmission has gone the way of formal dating and sensible shoes. Of the four mentioned, only Saab will still offer a manual wagon this year, but they can't even afford to pay their suppliers. The Magnum has long since gone out of production, making room on the platform assembly line for the new Challenger. This is the winter of my automatic transmission discontent...
And yet...
Hope springs eternal for there are new wagons to be had. Cadillac brings a wagon version of the CTS, available with a 3.6L V6 and, briefly, the manual transmission (though this combo axed next year). Also, revealed at the New Mexico Auto show (which, as far as i can tell, was attended by me and approximately 180 other people) is the new Acura TSX wagon.
It seems that Acura recently released a redesign of the sporty TSX sedan. The sedan, which IS offered with a manual trans, was then followed by a wagon version, which according to the hot Acura booth girl, will almost CERTAINLY be offered with a manual transmission in the next 9 months. {shrugs} She seemed to know what she was talking about.
TSX wagon- as luxurious and sporty as the 9-5.
Also revealed at the New Mexico Auto show, what an interior should look like:
(I wonder what they put for the fourth panel when you have a manual trans?)
Anyway, for now and with my limited resources, I'll be happy with the vehicular selection at hand. I'm not so sure the Miata is a good fit for these vast, wide open spaces, but the motorcycle seems to fit in well. they could both stand to have some forced induction added, what with the high altitude an all (which the Saab HAS!), but that's a battle for another day.
...
somebody should buy this
(pronounced SpÖrts "VA-gun")
From my single previous and brief visit to New Mexico, I knew that the American South West was a good place to be a car enthusiast. I mean, this place has a junkyard pretty much devoted to Cadillacs! Imagine: a place where your large metal machines rust away over several decades, rather than the meager several years I was accustomed to. Sure, the sun will rot the interiors and the dust storms dull the paint... but who cares about that stuff?
I already have a solid mental inventory of the interesting vehicles that live around my house... There's the guy with the new Challenger and New Vette, I think he's a bit unusual here, owning two newer awesome cars and no classics. There's the guy with the Fox Body Mustang and old, minty Mazda 626, plus new Mazda 3. There's the house with the pair of matching, late 90's red Camaros (one with a trailer hitch), plus a vintage Camaro under the cover. Or at least that's what Challenger guy says- I've never seen the cover come off. Then there's the House with the two old VW Beatles, PLUS a new mini and a first gen Miata. Also there's the House with the old Ford Pick up (BRIGHT YELLOW!) and old dodge panel van, both looking about perfect. Anyway, this list goes on.
The only real problem I see with this place is the absence of jobs, or at minimum, jobs for me. I'm surrounded by old and unique cars, many for sale at discount prices and I can't afford to collect them! (Expect updates on the job situation in part 3 of this 4 part series) See, every time I venture into the streets (cyber, e.g. Craigslist, or otherwise) I'm assaulted by a litany of Fiats, Cadillacs and quirky hatchbacks that I NEED to experience. Also, there appears to be a high number of Ford SVT Raptors (think of it as a limited production baja truck) and Dodge Magnums. The Raptors make sense because, well, this is a good place to practice you baja-trucking, but I want to talk about the magnums. Dodge magnums are wagon versions of the Dodge charger/Chrysler 300 platform. (some countries received a Chrysler 300 wagon, but not us).
The magnum is a great car because its big, power, American, and wagon!. You could get it with a V6, a V8 and a BIGGER V8, the last being the SRT model. I would always see them in Detroit, but when it comes to cars, Detroit is something of a rare bird, which is why I was surprised to see so many here in Albuquerque. See the down side is, the magnum was never offered with a manual transmission, which brings me to my second point: The Death of Euro Sport Wagon.
See, the European-style Sport wagon (not to be confused with the Eurosport Wagon) is that traditionally European-made wagon, often based on a sedan platform, featuring decent power and handling and at least OFFERED with a manual transmission. The Physicist has a Euro Sport wagon; A Saab 9-5, turbo charged with a 5spd which offers the best compromise of utility and fun to drive. the problem is, the Saab in question is a 2002 model and getting a bit tired. Plus, being a Saab, it is just this side of impossible to work on. So what can replace it? The European companies (BMW, Mercedes, Volvo, Saab) are still making wagons, but the manual transmission has gone the way of formal dating and sensible shoes. Of the four mentioned, only Saab will still offer a manual wagon this year, but they can't even afford to pay their suppliers. The Magnum has long since gone out of production, making room on the platform assembly line for the new Challenger. This is the winter of my automatic transmission discontent...
And yet...
Hope springs eternal for there are new wagons to be had. Cadillac brings a wagon version of the CTS, available with a 3.6L V6 and, briefly, the manual transmission (though this combo axed next year). Also, revealed at the New Mexico Auto show (which, as far as i can tell, was attended by me and approximately 180 other people) is the new Acura TSX wagon.
It seems that Acura recently released a redesign of the sporty TSX sedan. The sedan, which IS offered with a manual trans, was then followed by a wagon version, which according to the hot Acura booth girl, will almost CERTAINLY be offered with a manual transmission in the next 9 months. {shrugs} She seemed to know what she was talking about.
TSX wagon- as luxurious and sporty as the 9-5.
Also revealed at the New Mexico Auto show, what an interior should look like:
(I wonder what they put for the fourth panel when you have a manual trans?)
Anyway, for now and with my limited resources, I'll be happy with the vehicular selection at hand. I'm not so sure the Miata is a good fit for these vast, wide open spaces, but the motorcycle seems to fit in well. they could both stand to have some forced induction added, what with the high altitude an all (which the Saab HAS!), but that's a battle for another day.
...
somebody should buy this
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Albuquerque pt 1: Training
Now I live at an elevation of 6000 feet. On the other hand, my old training grounds were somewhere in the 600 ft range with elevations changes few and far between. This was not obviously a problem until I arrived in New Mexico and tried to walk. Or ride the motorcycle.
In fairness, grad school left my fitness laughable, so the disadvantage was all mine. Perhaps accounting for this, the cosmic forces chose to relocate me to a great mecca of fitness, with bikers, hikers and yoggers all around. And more importantly, geographically interesting and diverse challenges upon which to bike, hike and yog. Of course "geographically interesting" means "elevation changes." Big 'ems. Now that I've had a couple weeks to hike around and acquaint my calves with the steepness of this place, it was time to get back to running.
Today's run went some thing like this: First, we live on a hill. So upon entering the street, one can run up or down the hill. Unfortunately down doesn't lead anywhere you might particularly want to run to. Plus, there are amazing, mountainous trails that start just 3/4 of a mile away. So you (I) start by venturing up the hill. This is my second attempt at jogging here and last time i made the mistake of running right off, as I would in, say, Ohio. This made me quite useless once I'd reached the trails, so I start today by walking up the hill.
Shortly there is a cross street that travels along the mountain, rather than towards or away from it, so this street is relatively flat. It's the only street I know of in the area that behaves as such, and this is where I begin my run. I'm at almost exactly 6000 feet above sea level and I want to ease my body into the suffering, starting with a flat surface. But soon, another cross street and I turn again, up hill, towards the mountain. This is the road to the trail head, about half a mile up. This is also where the locals with their hiking canes and $5k mountain bikes part their (old school) VW Beetles and (new school) 350Z's. I'm already feeling the uphill/high altitude punch, but I need to maintain the facade at least long enough to pass by these well-tanned, well-to-dos, and make it fully off the pavement.
I've been jogging for near half a mile and it's been a while since I've looked up... But now I'm running in gravely. Noting the change, i look up and see the geography ahead now fills my field view. Some the left extreme to the right and most of the way up, is the mountain. It is the type of grandeur that cannot be captured in a photograph, but It looks something like this: the base (except closer, and bigger)
Now that I've arrived at the mountain, all trails will be, well, up hill. Exhausted, now I take a walking break. As I slow down i realize i have a headache and my calf muscles are burning. And walking up hill is putting extra stress on my knee caps. either way, i continue around the gradual, back path behind Nipple Hill. I don't think that's is the official name, but it is what we know it as. Walking, walking, walking... Finally i reach the crest hind Nipple Hill, meaning a down hill stint and back towards the trail head... TIME TO RUN! (This time is also called "why does it hurt do much when i breath?) Either way running down the hill feels like a breeze, but that might be the 30mph spring time wind, which seems to always be fighting my progress. Now i just need to make sure my feet move fast enough to keep my down hill jog from turning into a down hill stumble.
At this point i like to black out for a while, until I near the house. If I time things right (which i never do) I could arrive right in time to catch the Albuquerque Sun set over the city, as seen from our street. It looks something like (but not quite as good as) this:
In fairness, grad school left my fitness laughable, so the disadvantage was all mine. Perhaps accounting for this, the cosmic forces chose to relocate me to a great mecca of fitness, with bikers, hikers and yoggers all around. And more importantly, geographically interesting and diverse challenges upon which to bike, hike and yog. Of course "geographically interesting" means "elevation changes." Big 'ems. Now that I've had a couple weeks to hike around and acquaint my calves with the steepness of this place, it was time to get back to running.
Today's run went some thing like this: First, we live on a hill. So upon entering the street, one can run up or down the hill. Unfortunately down doesn't lead anywhere you might particularly want to run to. Plus, there are amazing, mountainous trails that start just 3/4 of a mile away. So you (I) start by venturing up the hill. This is my second attempt at jogging here and last time i made the mistake of running right off, as I would in, say, Ohio. This made me quite useless once I'd reached the trails, so I start today by walking up the hill.
Shortly there is a cross street that travels along the mountain, rather than towards or away from it, so this street is relatively flat. It's the only street I know of in the area that behaves as such, and this is where I begin my run. I'm at almost exactly 6000 feet above sea level and I want to ease my body into the suffering, starting with a flat surface. But soon, another cross street and I turn again, up hill, towards the mountain. This is the road to the trail head, about half a mile up. This is also where the locals with their hiking canes and $5k mountain bikes part their (old school) VW Beetles and (new school) 350Z's. I'm already feeling the uphill/high altitude punch, but I need to maintain the facade at least long enough to pass by these well-tanned, well-to-dos, and make it fully off the pavement.
I've been jogging for near half a mile and it's been a while since I've looked up... But now I'm running in gravely. Noting the change, i look up and see the geography ahead now fills my field view. Some the left extreme to the right and most of the way up, is the mountain. It is the type of grandeur that cannot be captured in a photograph, but It looks something like this: the base (except closer, and bigger)
Now that I've arrived at the mountain, all trails will be, well, up hill. Exhausted, now I take a walking break. As I slow down i realize i have a headache and my calf muscles are burning. And walking up hill is putting extra stress on my knee caps. either way, i continue around the gradual, back path behind Nipple Hill. I don't think that's is the official name, but it is what we know it as. Walking, walking, walking... Finally i reach the crest hind Nipple Hill, meaning a down hill stint and back towards the trail head... TIME TO RUN! (This time is also called "why does it hurt do much when i breath?) Either way running down the hill feels like a breeze, but that might be the 30mph spring time wind, which seems to always be fighting my progress. Now i just need to make sure my feet move fast enough to keep my down hill jog from turning into a down hill stumble.
At this point i like to black out for a while, until I near the house. If I time things right (which i never do) I could arrive right in time to catch the Albuquerque Sun set over the city, as seen from our street. It looks something like (but not quite as good as) this:
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Smell you later forever, Ohio
I'm pretty sure this steering wheel is more expensive than all the cars I've ever owned... combined. peaking of which, I need a burn out switch.
Anyway
Today, like so much science work before, I finished with the Wright State University by jumping on the bike and riding off, content with the knowledge that justice was served... or something.
While the credits rolled, the viewer are left to wonder, "where will the adventures begin anew?"
(i'm obviously hung over here)
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
They say Detroit Hustles Harder
I recently returned for a spell in Detroit.
I tried to print a PDF file that existed only in my gmail account, accessible from my phone. The first print shop (local, independent) was not able to receive and print that file. The second (local, independent-ish) was not willing.
THOSE PEOPLE ARE LIVING IN MAD MAX TIMES.
I was thinking about writing an entire, contrived blog post about this injustice of the printing world, but then I was able to put the experience back into the context of the entire community, and then all i wanted to do was lay down on some train tracks. (Unfortunately, there's no trains scheduled for this month)
How is it that while I'm trying (and failing) to find someone that will take my $600 worth of ipad money, skilled tradesmen are having their tools stolen from their broken work vans at the shitty job sites they're just going to get laid off from anyway?
I mean, Detroit could be worse say, if it's crumbled, burning structures were being swept out to see... Yet somehow this place, completely void of natural disasters, becomes more bleak every time i see it.
I tried to print a PDF file that existed only in my gmail account, accessible from my phone. The first print shop (local, independent) was not able to receive and print that file. The second (local, independent-ish) was not willing.
THOSE PEOPLE ARE LIVING IN MAD MAX TIMES.
I was thinking about writing an entire, contrived blog post about this injustice of the printing world, but then I was able to put the experience back into the context of the entire community, and then all i wanted to do was lay down on some train tracks. (Unfortunately, there's no trains scheduled for this month)
How is it that while I'm trying (and failing) to find someone that will take my $600 worth of ipad money, skilled tradesmen are having their tools stolen from their broken work vans at the shitty job sites they're just going to get laid off from anyway?
I mean, Detroit could be worse say, if it's crumbled, burning structures were being swept out to see... Yet somehow this place, completely void of natural disasters, becomes more bleak every time i see it.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Enrique Iglesias; Everything he does is so good...
They say when you're unemployed, looking for a job is your full time job. I've never had a job before where I could show up naked, but always hoped for one.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Crooked Path
I can't exactly remember how it happened but at some point during undergrad studies I realized I was obsessed with windmills. The big ones, that make electricity. It makes sense because I've always been fascinated with electricity and technology. Also, cars. Maybe I should talk about that part first; It feels like wheels were my always passion. There was a time in my life when I was absolutely certain I would become a very successful race car driver, the victories of which I would often recreate with my bike. Ironically I don't recall having even seen a car in the act of racing until NASCAR took off in the 90s so I'm not sure how I reached such definite conclusions race car drivers. But Detroit was surely the reason car culture was ingrained in my being; an endless parade of car shows, Autoramas and weekend car meets. The early teen years were spent disassembling (and almost always destroying) anything I could get my hands on and girls were fairly uninteresting and thought I never lost faith in the religion of cars, I stopped thinking of myself as a yet-to-be-racer. Books and aptitude tests, marching band (yes, marching band) and the ubiquitous high school “hanging out” came to the forefront. Plus it seemed I would never escape the hand-me-down Dodge Dynasty of my automotive youth. I had to think of the future (they said) and my older brother was an electrician who he seemed to know everything about the limited technical problems I came across in family garage. So probably around that time I decided I too would know about electricity, like my brother.
Of course it never occurred to me that I might not go to college; We were middle class suburbanites and college was what we did after high school. It scares me to realize how narrow my sights were when I was 17, when I went to college and checked the "electrical engineering" box. Soon I was sinking in the sea of theory, feeling far away from the hands-on world I wanted. When was I going to learn something? College was, of course, full of distractions but during those few sober moments I fantasized about transferring into a technology degree or switching majors... Something more “real.” I pushed forward because I feared facing the world without a degree, imaging a direct link between it and success. I found my joy in other projects, like an ill-fated stint with the solar car team, time spent maintaining the consummate Cadillac (blue neons before neons were cool?) or shooting Crazy Curtis' gun collection.
Time passed, as it does, and I found a groove. My last semester in college was a good time; I was happier than I had ever been, I think. Also I had found photography, a hobby-turned-job and I'm still a little shocked they paid me to do it. But graduation and change were skulking about and my brain was preparing itself for deep thinking, which is about the time sustainable energy took a strong root in my being. It was like a beat in the background of my thinking melody... Some combination of youth-inspired idealism and clinical analysis of the facts deduced that burning oil (a key component in, oh, EVERYTHING we make) was stupid. And maybe because I lived in a snowy, wind-washed tundra, it seemed obvious that giant windmills were the answer to everything.
(Remember that in the late 90's, alternative energy wasn't cool and GM was still selling the EV-1. There was no Green-themed anything. I'm not trying to say that I was ahead of the curve, just that these were logical conclusions arrived at from simple observations of the world.)
The problem was photo journalism- I was enjoying this work immensely and it had become the possibility of a career. I had made connections in the area and was offered a newspaper job after graduation with the promise of a quick promotion thereafter. Here, now, was the pondering my brain had prepared for. Should I continue down the delightful but staving-artist path of photography, or was I to make a career of engineering and the four years of meaningless equations? A battle of logic and deduction raged within and it led to many drunken conversations. One that sticks out in particular happened in a bar with an interpretive dancer /slash/ newspaper writer for whom i took pictures. This was now my fifth year at college and I was old enough to frequent the bars, but most of my live-in ultimate frisbee associates were not. So this was a rare moment, out with small group and I remember it as the first time I was able to fully pull together (in my mind) the reasons why I should be an engineer: Things were being done wrong and I had strong opinions about how they should be different. The interpretive dancer, (with whom I was fascinated... She was so different than anyone I had known in life or at this engineering college) was best at lending an ear and providing sandwiches after bar closing hours. Maybe she realized I had to sort these details out for myself, rather than offer opinions of her own. Later she moved to Canada.
The counter argument came not from within but during more sober conversations with my photography professor, Mike Shupe (Who I tried calling Coach Shoop in reference to the hilarious 80's movie that he hadn't seen, and as such couldn't recognize the brilliance in the name.) Mike would argue that one didn't have to build the system to make the change, but rather a powerful influence came with the photographer who could draw attention to the issues with inspired work. This was a good argument too.
The decision warrants so much more but it was made and I returned to Detroit to be an engineer. I would never admit it then but I'm sure now that I hadn't fully undone the brainwashing of a high school honors program and I suppose that I was always going to move forward with engineering. Either way, this was a hard time and a stark contrast to college. So much so that I had to coin the phrase "The Struggle" to summarize what we were up against. There was a group of us, friends from high school, reunited in a similar situation. I burned easily through graduation money and had a string of short-term minimum wage jobs. There was no Eureka! moment that we all expected and no $60k/yr job befell any of us. I did eventually meet a rare, worthwhile girl an soon after that (maybe because of that) I made it out of my parent's house for the last time. Eventually I had steady work, health insurance and in a bizarre twist of fate would occasionally find myself on job sites with my brother; He was a foreman now and I was doing low voltage fire alarm work. I was happy again but hadn't lost the nagging feeling of missed potential. It had been over a year since I graduated and I was *supposed* to be designing electric cars. I was supposed to be an engineer.
(It was a full three years after returning to Detroit that fortune turned and I landed an interview with Chrysler. I can't recall much from those years living in The Struggle and I think it reflects a painful lack of direction. I've always created a certain open-ended lifestyle but this was a time devoid of goals, short term and long. Sadly I couldn't move forward mentally until I had found a “worth while” job, the search for which had become my white whale. That was a serious period of listlessness and I look back on it as lost time for living. Those years could warrant several additional pages of retelling.
I had a lot of failed interviews for engineering jobs but was learning both how to navigate the corporate interview dance, as well as keep my expectations in check. We had a saying back then, "Never, ever expect anything good to happen. Ever." But this was a rare opportunity. I drove there in my work van, wearing a work uniform and in the parking lot climbed into the windowless back and donned my suit. What followed was several months of follow up interviews, missed jobs and recommendations from one position to another. Its amazing to look back and remember the anticipation desperate want that I would push from my thoughts everyday. I had approximately zero applicable experience and the market was full of engineers but somehow I ended up landing the third Chrysler engineering job for which I interviewed (again, so much more to be told...). I was now a Battery Engineer for Chrysler. A man named Chris Saari gave me the opportunity that would be the defining moment in my professional life; a middle manager at a failing automotive company who hated his job. I was an engineer making cars.
(If you don't love cars and you don't care about being in the center of the universe then I cannot explain to you what it is like to work for the Big Three. I imagine its like what others feel working in the pits on Wall Street or maybe like being in the White House? The design studios, enormous test labs, cars and engines and parts everywhere, on every engineer's desk. Chrysler in 2005 was not a particularly exceptional company as far as car makers went but to me it was amazing. Here was the corporate headquarters and I felt like I was in the middle of something amazing.)
The job was of course not nearly as special or rewarding as I imagined it to be. I enjoyed the rare opportunity to split my time between a desk (I had my own desk?!) the plants that built the cars, the corporate headquarters, the supplier's engineering offices and the battery lab. I also jumped on the chance to take part in the corporate-offered "continuing education." One such class was dedicated to the electric vehicle endeavors at Chrysler; a way to introduce employees (those that cared) to the advanced tech that was being developed deep in the skunk-works of the building. That's when I first learned about the F-cell and when chatting up one of the car's engineers, about the Alternative Energy program downtown at Wayne State in Detroit. It hit me like a lightening bolt! I had forgotten my plan of making things that made a difference and I needed to move forward again. What was i doing tracking quality issues with the same lead acid batteries they've been making for 30 years?
I enrolled in the AET (Alternative Energy Technology) program at Wayne State University, really the only such program in the country. I studied fuel cells and windmills, Fluid dynamics and hydrogen infrastructure. This was what I was supposed to be doing, But more importantly I was now an experiences engineer AND a study of advanced technology. Armed with a sufficiently padded resume I set out for a real "alternative energy" job. I had no idea, no foresight to see that I already had a pocket ace to play for the rest of my career: Batteries.
As it would happen, I found myself in Detroit in the beginning of the vehicular electrification revolution. Every manufacturer wanted electric hybrids and that technology required battery experts. I wasn't an advanced battery technology expert but I had enough experience to get me into North America's only manufacturer of NiMH automotive propulsion batteries. As shocked as I was to be hired at Chrysler, it was even more unlikely that I would get this new job and I don't think I appreciated that fact at the time. Chrysler was not exactly a lucrative job, as I was contract and paid hourly. I don't think I'll ever forget the negotiation I had with the recruiter who landed me the interview with the battery company. Asked how much money I would require, and knowing I should always ask for a healthy raise from my current rate, I quote him a number. Re reflected for a moment and countered “I'm going to ask for $10k/yr more.” and that's what they agreed to pay me. I missed the opportunity to touch the new cars as they rolled down the line or sit in on the meetings the literally created the cars of the future, but I had finally achieved the goal I had set so many years ago. I was designing battery packs that would drive hybrid vehicles; one of maybe a couple hundred engineers in the nation doing such work. This was career end game and I was happy. The happiest I had been since snapping pictures for a living. I even started building my a race car.
Of course change is constant and the company never reached full potential. Eventually it would go the way of most tech companies with lay offs, money shortages and job uncertainty while I grew anxious with my own uncertainties. My accumulated knowledge wasn't strong enough to take me further into the real engineering work, unless I wanted to pull part numbers and file TPS reports. The a for mentioned go at grad school fell short and when the technical side of that fancy new degree program was found to be lacking, shored up with the hypothetical and buzz-word heavy resume fodder that it offered. (I ended with a 16 credit “graduate certificate,” or what I like to call “the associated degree of grad school.) More, batteries it seemed, were the game of a chemistry man and electrical engineers would always be relegated to wire harnesses, HV relays and test equipment. But I had been in the world of electric propulsion for two years and I knew the future of Alt. Energy was power electronics. I'd seen it done and I learned about it from the coworker who had taught me so much about REAL engineering; a man with a seemingly limitless source of energy and who made me realize that there is a distinctly unique kind of person who can design anything, build everything and has the follow through to see completion. He inspired me to reproduce that fortitude in myself, even if it didn't come naturally. I still wanted to make electric cars but it was time for a new path.
I should mention I have observed a consistent and reliable occurrence that in times of discontent or great upheaval, I will somehow and without understanding stumble into the greatest possible of outcomes. It had been nearly a decade since I returned to Detroit and this good luck would come into play again. The battery job was shaky and I was in the “its complicated” phase of relationship, when the familiar but rare and fleeting alignment of worlds occurred. There was another amazing girl and a school that offered a not-at-all-common power electronics degree, plus the possibility of transferring my job to the state that owned the two. This was a more complicated cosmic negotiation and it did not exactly fall into place but I gave an ultimatum or two and proceeded as if all would be splendid. And 4 weeks later I was in OH, living with the girl and studying power electronics.
Graduate school, it turns out, can be challenging; demanding an unsustainable lifestyle. I find myself in the midst of my grandest leap of blind faith, not realizing how much I would give up until it was already gone. Even as I write this I should be documenting tremendous previous work; a battery powered welder and a masters thesis project. A culmination of experience and learning that brings with it a huge sense of reward and achievement, reminiscent of those first days at Chrysler. Or perhaps when I returned to the Detroit Auto show as an adult so many years later, to see my battery in that year's electric hyrbid. But right now I feel drained and anxious and there is so much work to be done. The final scenes in this transitional period, greater than those before and as such, so much more demanding. My vision of the future is fuzzy; unclear as it always is before the next great adventure.
(If I poured through the Robot Exterminator archives I know I could find previously told portions of this story. As I approach graduation and another relocation I can't help revisiting this strange path and again find myself inspired to tell the story, for my own sake, through the filter of my ever-changing perspective.)
***********************************************
These are the good old day
~this girl I know
Of course it never occurred to me that I might not go to college; We were middle class suburbanites and college was what we did after high school. It scares me to realize how narrow my sights were when I was 17, when I went to college and checked the "electrical engineering" box. Soon I was sinking in the sea of theory, feeling far away from the hands-on world I wanted. When was I going to learn something? College was, of course, full of distractions but during those few sober moments I fantasized about transferring into a technology degree or switching majors... Something more “real.” I pushed forward because I feared facing the world without a degree, imaging a direct link between it and success. I found my joy in other projects, like an ill-fated stint with the solar car team, time spent maintaining the consummate Cadillac (blue neons before neons were cool?) or shooting Crazy Curtis' gun collection.
Time passed, as it does, and I found a groove. My last semester in college was a good time; I was happier than I had ever been, I think. Also I had found photography, a hobby-turned-job and I'm still a little shocked they paid me to do it. But graduation and change were skulking about and my brain was preparing itself for deep thinking, which is about the time sustainable energy took a strong root in my being. It was like a beat in the background of my thinking melody... Some combination of youth-inspired idealism and clinical analysis of the facts deduced that burning oil (a key component in, oh, EVERYTHING we make) was stupid. And maybe because I lived in a snowy, wind-washed tundra, it seemed obvious that giant windmills were the answer to everything.
(Remember that in the late 90's, alternative energy wasn't cool and GM was still selling the EV-1. There was no Green-themed anything. I'm not trying to say that I was ahead of the curve, just that these were logical conclusions arrived at from simple observations of the world.)
The problem was photo journalism- I was enjoying this work immensely and it had become the possibility of a career. I had made connections in the area and was offered a newspaper job after graduation with the promise of a quick promotion thereafter. Here, now, was the pondering my brain had prepared for. Should I continue down the delightful but staving-artist path of photography, or was I to make a career of engineering and the four years of meaningless equations? A battle of logic and deduction raged within and it led to many drunken conversations. One that sticks out in particular happened in a bar with an interpretive dancer /slash/ newspaper writer for whom i took pictures. This was now my fifth year at college and I was old enough to frequent the bars, but most of my live-in ultimate frisbee associates were not. So this was a rare moment, out with small group and I remember it as the first time I was able to fully pull together (in my mind) the reasons why I should be an engineer: Things were being done wrong and I had strong opinions about how they should be different. The interpretive dancer, (with whom I was fascinated... She was so different than anyone I had known in life or at this engineering college) was best at lending an ear and providing sandwiches after bar closing hours. Maybe she realized I had to sort these details out for myself, rather than offer opinions of her own. Later she moved to Canada.
The counter argument came not from within but during more sober conversations with my photography professor, Mike Shupe (Who I tried calling Coach Shoop in reference to the hilarious 80's movie that he hadn't seen, and as such couldn't recognize the brilliance in the name.) Mike would argue that one didn't have to build the system to make the change, but rather a powerful influence came with the photographer who could draw attention to the issues with inspired work. This was a good argument too.
The decision warrants so much more but it was made and I returned to Detroit to be an engineer. I would never admit it then but I'm sure now that I hadn't fully undone the brainwashing of a high school honors program and I suppose that I was always going to move forward with engineering. Either way, this was a hard time and a stark contrast to college. So much so that I had to coin the phrase "The Struggle" to summarize what we were up against. There was a group of us, friends from high school, reunited in a similar situation. I burned easily through graduation money and had a string of short-term minimum wage jobs. There was no Eureka! moment that we all expected and no $60k/yr job befell any of us. I did eventually meet a rare, worthwhile girl an soon after that (maybe because of that) I made it out of my parent's house for the last time. Eventually I had steady work, health insurance and in a bizarre twist of fate would occasionally find myself on job sites with my brother; He was a foreman now and I was doing low voltage fire alarm work. I was happy again but hadn't lost the nagging feeling of missed potential. It had been over a year since I graduated and I was *supposed* to be designing electric cars. I was supposed to be an engineer.
(It was a full three years after returning to Detroit that fortune turned and I landed an interview with Chrysler. I can't recall much from those years living in The Struggle and I think it reflects a painful lack of direction. I've always created a certain open-ended lifestyle but this was a time devoid of goals, short term and long. Sadly I couldn't move forward mentally until I had found a “worth while” job, the search for which had become my white whale. That was a serious period of listlessness and I look back on it as lost time for living. Those years could warrant several additional pages of retelling.
I had a lot of failed interviews for engineering jobs but was learning both how to navigate the corporate interview dance, as well as keep my expectations in check. We had a saying back then, "Never, ever expect anything good to happen. Ever." But this was a rare opportunity. I drove there in my work van, wearing a work uniform and in the parking lot climbed into the windowless back and donned my suit. What followed was several months of follow up interviews, missed jobs and recommendations from one position to another. Its amazing to look back and remember the anticipation desperate want that I would push from my thoughts everyday. I had approximately zero applicable experience and the market was full of engineers but somehow I ended up landing the third Chrysler engineering job for which I interviewed (again, so much more to be told...). I was now a Battery Engineer for Chrysler. A man named Chris Saari gave me the opportunity that would be the defining moment in my professional life; a middle manager at a failing automotive company who hated his job. I was an engineer making cars.
(If you don't love cars and you don't care about being in the center of the universe then I cannot explain to you what it is like to work for the Big Three. I imagine its like what others feel working in the pits on Wall Street or maybe like being in the White House? The design studios, enormous test labs, cars and engines and parts everywhere, on every engineer's desk. Chrysler in 2005 was not a particularly exceptional company as far as car makers went but to me it was amazing. Here was the corporate headquarters and I felt like I was in the middle of something amazing.)
The job was of course not nearly as special or rewarding as I imagined it to be. I enjoyed the rare opportunity to split my time between a desk (I had my own desk?!) the plants that built the cars, the corporate headquarters, the supplier's engineering offices and the battery lab. I also jumped on the chance to take part in the corporate-offered "continuing education." One such class was dedicated to the electric vehicle endeavors at Chrysler; a way to introduce employees (those that cared) to the advanced tech that was being developed deep in the skunk-works of the building. That's when I first learned about the F-cell and when chatting up one of the car's engineers, about the Alternative Energy program downtown at Wayne State in Detroit. It hit me like a lightening bolt! I had forgotten my plan of making things that made a difference and I needed to move forward again. What was i doing tracking quality issues with the same lead acid batteries they've been making for 30 years?
I enrolled in the AET (Alternative Energy Technology) program at Wayne State University, really the only such program in the country. I studied fuel cells and windmills, Fluid dynamics and hydrogen infrastructure. This was what I was supposed to be doing, But more importantly I was now an experiences engineer AND a study of advanced technology. Armed with a sufficiently padded resume I set out for a real "alternative energy" job. I had no idea, no foresight to see that I already had a pocket ace to play for the rest of my career: Batteries.
As it would happen, I found myself in Detroit in the beginning of the vehicular electrification revolution. Every manufacturer wanted electric hybrids and that technology required battery experts. I wasn't an advanced battery technology expert but I had enough experience to get me into North America's only manufacturer of NiMH automotive propulsion batteries. As shocked as I was to be hired at Chrysler, it was even more unlikely that I would get this new job and I don't think I appreciated that fact at the time. Chrysler was not exactly a lucrative job, as I was contract and paid hourly. I don't think I'll ever forget the negotiation I had with the recruiter who landed me the interview with the battery company. Asked how much money I would require, and knowing I should always ask for a healthy raise from my current rate, I quote him a number. Re reflected for a moment and countered “I'm going to ask for $10k/yr more.” and that's what they agreed to pay me. I missed the opportunity to touch the new cars as they rolled down the line or sit in on the meetings the literally created the cars of the future, but I had finally achieved the goal I had set so many years ago. I was designing battery packs that would drive hybrid vehicles; one of maybe a couple hundred engineers in the nation doing such work. This was career end game and I was happy. The happiest I had been since snapping pictures for a living. I even started building my a race car.
Of course change is constant and the company never reached full potential. Eventually it would go the way of most tech companies with lay offs, money shortages and job uncertainty while I grew anxious with my own uncertainties. My accumulated knowledge wasn't strong enough to take me further into the real engineering work, unless I wanted to pull part numbers and file TPS reports. The a for mentioned go at grad school fell short and when the technical side of that fancy new degree program was found to be lacking, shored up with the hypothetical and buzz-word heavy resume fodder that it offered. (I ended with a 16 credit “graduate certificate,” or what I like to call “the associated degree of grad school.) More, batteries it seemed, were the game of a chemistry man and electrical engineers would always be relegated to wire harnesses, HV relays and test equipment. But I had been in the world of electric propulsion for two years and I knew the future of Alt. Energy was power electronics. I'd seen it done and I learned about it from the coworker who had taught me so much about REAL engineering; a man with a seemingly limitless source of energy and who made me realize that there is a distinctly unique kind of person who can design anything, build everything and has the follow through to see completion. He inspired me to reproduce that fortitude in myself, even if it didn't come naturally. I still wanted to make electric cars but it was time for a new path.
I should mention I have observed a consistent and reliable occurrence that in times of discontent or great upheaval, I will somehow and without understanding stumble into the greatest possible of outcomes. It had been nearly a decade since I returned to Detroit and this good luck would come into play again. The battery job was shaky and I was in the “its complicated” phase of relationship, when the familiar but rare and fleeting alignment of worlds occurred. There was another amazing girl and a school that offered a not-at-all-common power electronics degree, plus the possibility of transferring my job to the state that owned the two. This was a more complicated cosmic negotiation and it did not exactly fall into place but I gave an ultimatum or two and proceeded as if all would be splendid. And 4 weeks later I was in OH, living with the girl and studying power electronics.
Graduate school, it turns out, can be challenging; demanding an unsustainable lifestyle. I find myself in the midst of my grandest leap of blind faith, not realizing how much I would give up until it was already gone. Even as I write this I should be documenting tremendous previous work; a battery powered welder and a masters thesis project. A culmination of experience and learning that brings with it a huge sense of reward and achievement, reminiscent of those first days at Chrysler. Or perhaps when I returned to the Detroit Auto show as an adult so many years later, to see my battery in that year's electric hyrbid. But right now I feel drained and anxious and there is so much work to be done. The final scenes in this transitional period, greater than those before and as such, so much more demanding. My vision of the future is fuzzy; unclear as it always is before the next great adventure.
(If I poured through the Robot Exterminator archives I know I could find previously told portions of this story. As I approach graduation and another relocation I can't help revisiting this strange path and again find myself inspired to tell the story, for my own sake, through the filter of my ever-changing perspective.)
***********************************************
These are the good old day
~this girl I know
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
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