Monday, September 30, 2013

Too Much Stuff

Excess Equipment For Sale

Marantz PMD 660 Professional digital stereo handheld solid state recorder with 32g compact flash memory, 5volt ac power converter and USB 6 to 4 output to connect with computers or audio studio mixers. Twin XLR microphone inputs with phantom power capability, 3.5mm line in and 3.5mm line out for headphones or speakers. 2 internal microphones and internal speakers.
User Manual, 32g compact flash card, 5v power pack included. Wiired remote available b ut n ot included.

There is a steep narrow and extremely poorly lit bridge between analog audio Island, a decrepit yet comfortable place I thought I would always inhabit and the digital mainland where audio road isn't anything I could recognize. Oh lord I hates to see me go.

Panasonic AVCCAM M70   condenser shotgun microphone with phantom power and XLR cable. High dynamic range, ultra directional. Wind screen foam blimp included.

I didn't know what a trail of tears the purchase of this thing would entail. But it is a helluva nice microphone and hope to be able to use it some day.

Panasonic AG-DV2000 digital video recorder and editing deck for digital videotape. Highly complex professional editing station with audio mixing capabilities. Outputs to Firewire, DVI mini tape or to VHS tape. Inputs from cameras or other VHS devices, microphones or from audio sources, digital or analog.
There is a wire connection not included that will turn the controller into a wired remote so you can concentrate on your monitors while you make editing decisions and give editing commands to the processors.
Before computer editing, this was the top of the line for editing videotape, working with a plethora of input modes and output formats, it will find and isolate and mark input clips, mark and output selected clips, mix and overdub audio tracks for all or part of the project
Manual, power cable, included.  Remote control extension cord available but not included. 
in the 3 am hour this seemed like a good idea to edit video without a computer, and this machine was the answer to my rebellious heart.

Paltex Abner switcher deck for videotape, allows simple A-or-B editing functions when hooked up to two cameras or recorders for input and a third for output. Mark in and mark out functions, pre-roll cushion functions to get the reels up to speed before the dub.
they called it the Abner because that is what it is, an A-or-B switcher to go from one video source or another source to edit into a single outputter I paid 18 bucks and shipping for it, still shrinkwrapped behind my bed under the window.

Lot of 2 Sony Trinitron PVM-8041Q color studio/field monitors. Full function monitors for full control of both chroma and luminence and white balance, blue-only  balance. 12 volt batteries are available but not included
Features include: 250 TV lines, beam current feedback circuit, comb filter for NTSC, component inputs (Y/R-Y/B-Y or RGB or Y/C), external sync or sync on green, underscan, pulse cross, blue only, tally, AC/DC operation, front panel gain and bias controls, rack mountable, speaker, metal cabinet, worldwide TV standard (NTSC, PAL, SECAM, and NTSC 4.43), carrying handle. 5 rack units high.
Nice goddamned machines, these are, and the reason I love Sony electronics. I watched Jane Pauley every morning for many years, and Vanna White every evening on a little trini with rabbit ears. It went in the boat all over the Gulf of Mexico. These studio version rack-mountable units are even nicer than my old Trini portable


Sunday, August 25, 2013

Dont Bogart That Joint, My Friend, Replace It!

I got a bad joint. Four years ago I had an attack of bursitis in my left hip that would not go away.
One afternoon Terry dropped me off down by Powell's and I almost didn't make it home, it seemed like my leg was going to fall off, like there was a 16d nail right in the very joint of it, and I went slower and slower and limping more and more to that side, and what the fuck I finally crawled in the door two hours later. Yikes.
Check out the BLUE arrow, the right hip joint the ball is nice and uniformly round like a nice joint should be. The WHITE arrow however points to a real mess all divots and dents and pretty much chewed up magillicuddy. Guess which one I'm keeping.

Doctor Thayer the next day but he didn't know, and fucked around and another Dr poor Jim Thayer's partner Smith or Jones or whatever the fuck missed the diagnosis completely." Presents as Bursitis, pain interior, nothing helps, everything makes it worse. Does not respond to steroid injection. Device helps take weight off. " That, my friends is the classic presentation of AVN, Avascular Necrosis. Cute little Meg De Voe, second coolest MD in the whole civilized world, got it right away first time, blam, that sounds like AVN and we did Xrays and lo and behold, the inherently poor circulation of the Trochantor, the ball of the hip, results in the bone losing density and collapsing under the cartilage.
However that was three and a half years later. I spent a year leaning heavily on a cane until it sort of got better but did never heal actually remaining fucked up and painful and subject to weird twisting breakdowns and a sense of fucked-upedness that never went away. Finally I went to Meg to see if she could figure it out who sent me over to see Faye at the Phys Rehab joint up in Good Sam, little dark haired intense little cutie, I instantly had about a half a mad crush on her, anyway she took one look at the Xray and said, "Honey there's not much I can do that joint will have to be replaced, they don't even fuck around with that shit any more just cut and paste and good to go." Words to that effect.
Enter Dr Ballard down at Meridian Park.
October 21 is the date he's going to cut it off and put in a new trailer hitch and ball.
Until then I'm on long-term pain management which right now means a fuckton of Vicodin at regular intervals, which I like, but there will be consequences later on down the road.
But not right now.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Voodoo Up In Here

Last spring Maggi and I had occasion to hang on the south coast for a few days. It was pretty nice down there, and among other activities, which I think I already told you about, I managed to get lost in the woods around the Bullards Beach campground. Not really really lost, but lost enough I was damn glad I had bars on my phone so the gps worked and showed me where I was in relation to where I was supposed to be.
It took some effort to admit I fucked up.
Then, on the way backtracking to the real trail turnoff, shedding the BS oh I'm OK this goes to the same place, well, n o it doesn't, and where you come out is a fuck of a long ways over there, way farther than you think it is, girlie, wake the fuck up it is getting dark, in the midst of all this inner turmoil there, laying on the trail I had just come down unbeknownst to me was a giant gob of "old man moss" or Spanish Moss as they call it down on the bayou.
Voodoo doll material.

The snap swivel allows you to form a connection without getting twisted up in the process. On the left side of the sash there is a narrow panel of blue and red beads to keep the place in memory of times when it was necessary for the Archangels such as Michael to carry a broadsword in the fight for truth and justice.
Those times are past, and now it is safe for the green heart of glass to be worn openly.

So last night I got busy like you know I like to do, and lovingly slightly cut upon an old blanket my kid had used when he was little, and I still sleep under every night and blessedly gladly to have it there in love for the guy, anyway I got out Moms Viking sewing machine, actually a Husqvarna, and sewing up a little inch or so next to the edge so as to seal off the stuffing, I gently scissored off that extra inch to make rather like a bandage of the civil war school, a couple feet long, of printed cotton blend, to wind the voodoo doll around the stuffing of Spanish Moss all the while working with love and warmest rich intentions for peace and love and understanding in colors of greens both light and lighter, and wear worn and faded into soul shadings and reds and burgundies patterned nicely in the colors of Anaisa Pie's best friend Belie Belcan, syncretized as Michael the Archangel, righter of wrongs, friend to the downpressed and all-around good guy.
I looked in my stash and there were two of the little gold chains left from Thailand transformation journey so I hung them around there for good fortune and prosperity for the young man who kept warm by this love and who kept me warm until so many years went by.
We'll see what happens now.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Surprise, Surprise


Starting a discussion with the words "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about" doesn't really leave much room for a real exchange of views.
Because I do know, at least I think I do know, my subject, and to deny that at the beginning leaves my entire process of reasoning dead on the floor, devoid of credit or substance.
Why, little Jimmy, of course there is no such thing!
uh, Mom, look at your foot.
EWW what is it?
It's a land crab, Mom, like I told you.
A land crab. They don't have them in Coquille, but we're in Sumatra now, and they are all over the place.
(fainting noise offstage)

Enough nonsense.
The position as I understand it is

1 It's too dangerous
2 The pipeline is illegal
3 Fracking is immoral.

1. It's Too Dangerous
The discussion around point number one raises some very good objections. The opponents term the possible destructive failure of the physical plant a low-probability high impact event. True, the destructive event would be very very unacceptably destructive. Ugly. Dead people everywhere.
Too close to population centers. Less than 2 miles from the plant to Sunset middle school where my son the highly educated and sophisticated liberal progressive did his 6th and 7th grade. This is the best objection. But, if  you must insist, and they should insist, they could make the builders pay to move the schools and if the opponents would get with the program they could make that happen. There's that kind of money in the thing. And they will pay their 1% in lieu of taxes, because there is so much money involved that it will be a cheap way to reduce the Clauswitzian "friction" of haveing this facility in operation.
Here's where we differ, and where the true believers will stop reading.
That  the probability of a destructive event is very very low, nearly out of the realm of possibility. Of all the LNG facilities around the world there has never been an explosive event involving  a whole plant. And this one will be state-of-the-art brand new, with all the safety bells and whistles that extremely big money can buy. Not because the owners give much of a rat's ass about little kids, damn their capitalistic hearts, but they do care, deeply, about their 9 billion dollars in plant costs and their untold hundred billion dollars of profit they plan to realize over the plants useful life. These folks are serious about their money, and they aren't in the habit of investing it where there is the slightest chance of catastrophic failure. They don't whitewash this shit, or kid themselves in their greed. They are far too greedy for that. They are absolutely cold-blooded about risk assessment at this scale.
The energy industry has a bad reputation from the habit of BP and other -penny-pinching actors of fucking around with safety at their extraction facilities, but when they aggregate the product you get such a density of value that the gloves come off and the reading glasses go on and some careful thinking gets done. It becomes a different animal.

The thing the opponents don't grock, and I do, is the scale of this fucker. 6 to 9 billion dollars for the plant. The biggest industrial installation in the state's history. Bigger than the Intel plant in Hillsboro.
And that number is what I trust to be very well taken care of.
So even if that fact, and my extension of it into the above argument fails to convince you to support this project, let it be a cold comfort to  you after the thing is built. If there is one thing the big money boys are careful about protecting, it is their investment. Stash the baby with the gold and you will not be far wrong.
It was said that my position is nostalgia. "If North Bend could only be like it was." I say North Bend because I am a total chauvinist about the town. I don't give a shit about Coos Bay the town. I care about the bay, and my town North Bend, and only then about Coos Bay the town because you can't deal with North Bend without also dealing with Coos Bay. But if you think I want Coos Bay/North Bend to be like it was in the glory days you are much mistaken.  Let me disabuse you of that notion. Far from it. See for yourself.
Coos Bay/North Bend, back in the day when the timber industry was booming, was dirty, and noisy, and stinky, and crude, and destructive. Populated by people who were destructive and rude and ignorant to an astonishing degree, or culture-bound and straight-laced and as prejudiced about virtually everything as it is humanly possible to be. Provincial would be a compliment. Paleolithic is more like it. To think I would ever want those days back is an insult. I hated that the mountains were being raped and the carcass sold off and taken away and the gut piles stinking to heaven.
I want a new industrial style. One that is interconnected. I want an economy that is not based on kissing tourist ass. An economy that does not depend on perpetuating the myths of the white-haired generations. One that can hold its head up and who has to think through the working day and who says at the end of the day I do work that is a man's work, not a servant's. I want there to be people who can afford shit, who want to make their houses nice, and can pay the property taxes without pain, who will vote for a better library and for a new school. People who live in a town that will kick your ass, figuratively speaking, if you get out of line, not a town that will cower in fear that you might take your Winnebago someplace else, where something besides a gambling den is the big employer. A town that has  self respect.

The second safety topic is Fukishima and the subduction zone. Yes that would be bad. Very bad. Unacceptable. How do you calculate the probability? And how does that relate to the possibility?
I don't know.
I relate to it in a way that is open to criticism. I don't know, and I chose to ignore the chance of natural disaster since the danger cannot be calculated in a meaningful way. Climate science is one thing, but this geologic activity prediction is not climate science. Past occurrences are predictive in a general way, but the science is not as well understood, and there are many variables that are unknown. Why we haven't had a 9000 year quake in 13000 years is not fully understood, and the raw horse-race probability of the thing would lead  you to think the fucker was a bit overdue, but whatever it is that has held it off for 4000 years may just as easily hold it off for another 4000 or it might happen tomorrow.
But you cant stay in the house your whole life because it might rain or you might get hit by a bus. Not if you want a life. You have to accept some risk. If you cant tolerate that risk move to Kansas. Oh, right, tornados.
I say build the plant.
If you make your living off tourists then you won't like the next part of my position.
For the first 100 years of its existence, the Coos Bay area's economy was extractive. Selling mother earth and her products. Coal, then Timber, then Fish.
I hang out in a small boat on the bay and I do not object to the presence of commercial oyster patches because we have all got to get along and people who work hard make a modest living thereby.
I don't object to the fish plants cutting up the flowers of the ocean, the beautiful fishes, although I would like to see the process become more sustainable, and it is, too slowly in my view, but still, okay, go ahead and catch the fish and sell them, it is good to eat and it is good to work and it is good to live in an honest world of work.
I like going up the river into the mountains especially in the summer time to walk in the forest or along the streams and enjoy the shade and the greenery and swim in the clean cool water.
I even enjoy mushroom hunting in the Coos County Forest even though that forest is actively managed and my mushroom patches may be gone when I get there when that part of the trees get their turn at the saw. The place is beautifully and carefully managed like the entire Coast Range forest could and should be which would allow for a generous harvest that would feed a substantial sawmill industry with all the attendant sideshows of trains and ships and barges and saw shops and Emporiums to sell Hickory shirts and Roameos.
The key is balance. The thing  that was utterly lacking in the original race to rape the forest of its best and brightest giants and those are gone and the culture that took them is gone too and I say good fucking riddance.
I just read "Hard Times in Paradise" by a guy named Robbins about the end of the timber industry in Coos Bay and let me tell you that was some depressing shit right there. I lived through it, and got over it, taking my consolation from the way the town smelled better after, and the fucking clanking and roaring from the mills all night long was gone and the bigass log trucks with the smoke and roar are gone and good fucking riddance,
The extractive economy is dead, and I don't miss it and I don't want it back.
So in order to remain a town the people need a few jobs and the obvious choice is to  become a "transfer payments" economy bolstered by the tourists that come in the summer to enjoy the ocean and the forest now that the stupid ugly mean and destructive loggers are gone. Transfer payments is a way of saying retirees that get their money in the mailbox. Its a putdown.
Or find a new industry.
I feel strongly the spiritual difference between a town that has an industry and a town that lives off tourists and retirees. I prefer the industry even though it is less esthetically pleasing. There is a spiritual strength and an honesty in making something, or facilitating the making of something, however that falls out, a difference to the serving of people that pass through. It has to do with the primary process of creating the things of life. The farmer has a primary relationship with food, the carpenter with shelter. The banker has a very abstracted and many times removed relationship with the stuff of life. I was a banker once, and I felt like a ghost. A Marxist would say I was a parasite. Then I learned carpentry, and I felt good about living, and I respected myself, because I knew about the human need for shelter and was a part of that process at a primary level.
So when I say and industrial town feels different than a tourist town this is what I am talking about.
And I say the towns of the South Coast have a choice to make, to be extractive, or abstract servers, or industrial, I choose the latter, and I say the fact that this shit represents and investment of a shit ton of money and that these  bozos that put this together would take much better care of 9 billion dollars than they would of their own kids.
So it is not that I want the old days back, far from it. But the only thing about the old days that made it endurable was that we had a primary relationship with the elements of human life. My position is that the spiritual honesty of that primary relationship that results from an industrial economy is desirable to the degree that the risk of this plant is acceptable because it is lower than the opponents think it is

2.Eminent Domain.
The law has been used plenty of times for economic gain. Sure, they can't take your land for Joe blow to build  a tire store, but they can and do take land to build highways and airports. They even use it for real estate developments, though I think that's wrong but the point is the use of eminent domain to build industrial infrastructure is well established. Yes it is different than the import argument, public good, we all need this gas for energy,  but it is well within the established uses to build industrial capacity that provides jobs and tax benefits. SO that, even if I also think it is stretching things too far and I don't like it one bit and if it was my land I would fight it but it's not illegal. They do that shit all the time.

3. Fracking is Immoral.
You bet it is. You got my full agreement on that. If you argue that we shouldn't handle the fruits of the immoral tainted tree then you shouldn't have earned comfy livings exporting the logs of vast clearcuts. All you longshoremen shut the fuck up.
Fracking is on its way out. Not altogether, but there seems to be a growing pushback and a gathering storm about the practice and I predict a long and bitter and possibly bloody fight about it in the near future, Especially if we get a second straight 8 years of progressive or at least Democratic government.
I think there's a pushback about fracking that is just starting. I think it will get much bigger and stronger and bloodier. It adds to the following tendency a reluctance to export natural gas at all, in the backstage bullshit that surrounds this stuff, a strong motive of NOT exporting LNG because there are industrial uses for it as a raw material, not just the substantial need for it as a source of energy.
Our industry has been hamstrung forever by the cost of LNG both as an energy source and as a raw material for fabric and pharmaceuticals and plastics. So now that is no longer a scarce commodity the domestic industrial users are saying hey not so fast lets see how much of this stuff we need here domestically before we ship it offshore to our industrial competitors.
Which leads us to a fourth objection that the CAVE (Citizens Against Virtually Everything) people don't know about yet, because they think they know all the material while in reality they are chasing their own tails.

4. Export policy
This objection has a LOT of traction behind the scenes.
The position of LNG as a plentiful resource is new thinking. It hasn't yet been fully grokked by the leadership of industry and policymakers. The Obama administration has been extremely, remarkably slow to develop a policy toward export. They have issued 2 TWO Only permits for export plants, one in Texas and one in Louisiana. There are 15 or 16 applications in the hopper awaiting decision. It is not a done deal.
In fact, I expect that only 1 or 2 more will be issued in by the Obama administration. There is a lot of pressure to NOT export and to let the American industrial system see how much of the stuff it can absorb at these cheap rates, because we desperately need some kind of an industrial advantage in the competition for manufacturing contracts and this is a rare opportunity for American industry to  get a leg up.

3dWorldTour conclusion
So, surprise surprise, I will be very surprised if the Jordan Cove Project will ever get FERC approval, for the same reason that the import version got its approval so shockingly quickly. Industrial demand for cheaper LNG.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

In Loving Memory

Mom passed away last Saturday afternoon of just plain old age and wore-outedness. She was comfy in her bed holding her eldest son Bob's  hand with her right, and her youngest daughter Marilyn's hand with her left. She just slowed down and then stopped. The room was clean and well-lighted filled with little objects of comfortable use or beloved decoration.

 We had her memorial service yesterday down in North Bend at the First Christian Church on upper Sherman Avenue, the church all us kids grew up loving and being desperately bored by, the church that represented so much in Mom's life, social and spiritual for more than 60 years. Many of her friends were there, many were awaiting her in that home in the sky, or not, as the case may actually be.
She had such a good long run I can hardly be sad. May we all lead such lives of discovery and refinement and forgiveness.
They buried her the day before, on a hill in the sunshine, next to our Dad, dear long-gone Bob, and very near her latest and second only loveing companion and husband Alan while we all stood around and watched as the serious and well-trained workmen with their precise equipments carted and levered and filled just so.
 I will miss her. I already do, but I have to say also, that I feel extraordinarily free as well, and we shall see whether or not this is a good thing to feel.

Monday, July 8, 2013


I'm on my way to Ashland tomorrow. Mom is on her way off this coil of sorrow, this vale of tears.
She's comfy. There's not really anything that hurts or that is bothering her, or that can be fixed. Really there isn't anything that even needs fixing. She has a very nice room, and people that love her to check in from time to time, and help her with a sip of this or that or a little spoonful of something yummy. She's just old, at the end of a very long and well played run.

New Process

Bin Laden's Last Facebook Post

Last week I took the boat up the Willamette towards town to see the fireworks. It was so noisy and loud and full of drunks and speedboat wake downtown that I turned right around and went back to Swan Island, the farthest south end on the beach to set up my camp. And I did see the fireworks, the very tops of the colorful highest rockets as they esploded way over the buildings downtown.
The second evening there was an enormous and quite oblivious or maybe extra-hungry beaver that swam up to my camp and proceeded to gather and consume cottonwood shoots for dinner. I will try to get the video to up load after I get home next week. It's a hoot.

Let us see if this new dropbox process will work with the massive panorama I took with my phone over the 4th of July camping trip down to Swan Island- not a spectacularly romantic spot for a vacation but in its own way a very nice place to camp. Especially considering it is well within the urban industrial area I love so much, and that the floating-homeless-camp boaters have so thoroughly fucked up Willamette cove.