Tuesday « Kenny Smith | A few words …

Tuesday

Dr. Gary Copeland

Not to be weepy about it — he’d make a joke about that, I think, in a wry way that amused you and left no doubt about his point — but we learned today that we lost a talented scholar and a good man.

Dr. Gary Copeland was a professor emeritus and former department head of the TCF program at the University of Alabama. Alabama was lucky to have him. He was my first teacher in the doctoral program. He was a terrific scholar, brilliant in his work and kind in his demeanor. He was also kind enough to serve on my comprehensive exam committee, among his last chores before retiring.

One of the last times I saw him was as he left that committee. We shook hands, I thanked him for his help and he headed out the door to some other meeting that needed more of his precious time.

My favorite memories are of Dr. Copeland giving: tickets to the Kiwanis Pancake Breakfast; his seats at a gymnastics meet; cookies for class and his strategies on navigating conferences and academia and life. From Dr. Copeland we received a lot, both small and significant. Sometimes you would only come to realize it much later. It was surprising all of the things he managed to seep into his conversations.

He had a gentle spirit and it was a privilege to study with him. It remains a privilege when we sometimes find ourselves citing his work. It is a great shame that he did not get to enjoy more time after retirement with his beloved grandchildren.

Those of us lucky enough to know him only a tiny bit — that Emmy belongs to one of his former students who wanted to display it in the professor’s office — can’t help but be saddened by the news and can’t imagine his family’s grief.

Tuesday / cycling / journalism / links / video — No Comments
24
Jan 12

Yes warning

As you might have heard, there were deadly tornadoes across the South on Sunday. At least two people in Alabama were killed. As always, the tragedy could have been much more costly, despite the devastation of property. There were, experts now say, at least six twisters in Alabama. The fatalities were low because of the excellent and hard work of the National Weather Service and the local meteorologists.

Only ABC did not get that memo:

ABC 33/40 meteorologist James Spann — the best in the business and there’s no discussion on this — took his national network to task. He suggested Diane Sawyer “get a clue” and challenged her to a debate on the issue. His audience were also indignant, writing first on the local site and then at the ABC homesite, where the chastising grew even louder. Those comments are worth a read.

We live in a dangerous area when it comes to spring weather. December and January are dangerous here too. Storms fall out of the sky. Tornadoes flare up and destroy property and sometimes take lives, but the technology and science now allow meteorologists to give days worth of advance warning. Forecasting that was not available a generation ago saves untold numbers of lives every year.

And so Spann took umbrage. His colleagues at KATV in Arkansas, where other tornadoes touched down, did too.

After today’s social media uproar ABC News decided to interview Spann today. It was scheduled and then canceled and rescheduled. Somewhere in there ABC had to stoop to spinning their own newscast:

“The report that aired Monday was referring to the fact that many families were surprised because they were asleep when the tornado hit in the middle of the night,” an ABC spokesperson says. “‘World News’ will cover the latest on the aftermath of the tornadoes tonight and will clarify the warning and advance forecasts given.”

Not even especially good spin, but there it was all the same.

Their newscast this evening?

Spann wrote on his site that he was grateful for the interview and that the important message about the outdoor sirens was shared, but …

There was no apology, or mention of the botched story yesterday when Diane Sawyer said the pre-dawn tornadoes Monday were a “surprise” with “no warning”. A little odd how you just go from that one day, to a story on how good the warning process was the next day. But, I am not a journalist and maybe that is just the way you do it. Seems strange. I would imagine Diane actually didn’t write that copy, but she will probably think twice about fact checking on lead story intros.

[...]

My frustration with the situation yesterday is shared by ALL of those hard working people involved in the warning process. The National Weather Service, the EM community (emergency managers), and broadcast meteorologists. I felt that these people were devalued and insulted yesterday.

It has been an interesting day in local-national media.

The storms missed us entirely, all going far north. We had some much needed rain and that’s all. We’ll get some more later this week, hopefully without the storms. I’m sure ABC hopes that’s the case.

Beautiful day today. I got in a 26 mile ride at a nice, even 15 mile per hour pace. Now let’s see if I can do that again tomorrow.

Got a lot of work done otherwise, and made a handful of phone calls. More work tomorrow, more emails and reading and some time on the bike. We’re expecting 72-degrees tomorrow for the first time this year. Of course I’ll be riding …

Tuesday / errands — No Comments
17
Jan 12

Another broken thing

Spent a little time at the hardware store last evening, wondering What else do I need?

This is not the place to have that conversation with yourself.

The self-chat came about because of one we had in the kitchen on Sunday. I remember it well, I was adding food to the cat’s feeder when The Yankee said “I’m having a vision … and you’re not going to like it … ”

Because there was something else to fix, which is always an adventure here, which has been closely documented in this space. This time it was the tank on the toilet in the master bathroom, which has already been fixed once. Or so we thought.

Now, instead of the charm of the occasionally running toilet, we had the fun of a continually running toilet. We’re not talking about the bad seal of a bad flapper in the tank that allows water seepage and requires tank replenishment. No, this is was a malfunctioning float valve, sticking in the wrong position and threatening to flood the room from the storage tank.

If you go to the website for the piece of equipment they have a breadcrumb FAQ that allows you to ascertain what is causing your problem. The fourth level of questioning is “Is your device more than five years old?”

The response, if your answer is yes, is “Buy a new one.”

So I had to buy a new float device. The replacement was an upgrade of the same broken model, which was the second cheapest at the hardware store. I’m beginning to learn a lot about the previous owner of the house.

Bought that and nothing else. I’d gone through a mental walk of the house. Nothing is broken in that room. Don’t have to replace anything in there.

And then home to replace the thing, where I found just one more space that, had it been designed to be just four inches wider, would have been SO much more convenient.

You take off the tank cover, drain the basin, dry the bottom and start disconnecting things. First the old flapper and chain, and then the feeder tube. Finally you make it underneath the tank which almost abuts the cabinet. There is a threaded clamp and lug nut that must be removed from the bottom of the tank’s inlet tube. All three of these piece are made of plastic. One of them is a little more than hand tight.

So I have to gentle try to use a wrench on a piece of plastic, only there isn’t enough space between the porcelain and the cabinet. A lot of time and several mutterings happen. I disconnect the supply tube at the shutoff valve.

At this point I’m wondering if I should know more engineers, because they might get a good laugh out of this.

To unstick the stuck one I must re-tighten the freed plastic lug nut. After several attempts this is done, the offending inlet tube and broken float. Install the new one.

I’ve managed to jab and cut my finger and the palm of my hand in this process.

“Easy installation!” says the box. And it was, even the blister packet, the scourge of western capitalism, wasn’t a difficult obstacle. It was the removal that was tough. But we’ve gone so green with these devices that we’re using twice as much plastic as necessary to make a toilet go. Technology that the Romans mastered has been over-engineered.

There are now two chains in that particular basin, one from the flapper to the handle and another from a guard on the float (designed to save water) which also goes to the handle. This will not prevent anything.

There’s also a plastic roller device, which looks like it would excel at making miniature croissants, that attaches to the line that feeds water to the overflow tube. This is supposed to save water. That’s also the job of that little plastic fake screw that sits just to the side of the float, which regulates how much water goes into the tank before it ultimately goes into the bowl.

There are two pounds of plastic creating a triple redundancy of water usage control on a device which will be broken in five years. That should last just long enough for the plumbing techs to over-design the next chunk of plastic, so there’s that.

Tuesday / iPhone / photo / video — 1 Comment
10
Jan 12

Rainy day

Looked like this all day:

We did have our weekly breakfast at the Barbecue House, though. That was the brightest, sunniest part of the day. Otherwise it was warmish and gray. I believe the “sun” — that mythical ball of burning hydrogen out in space — called it quits around 3 p.m.

Not that you’d know. The gray just got grayer, so it is all supposition.

Went out to watch a swim meet, but got stuck in traffic. There was a fender-bender on a two lane road and no one moves. I was five cars back — just far enough back that I could not see what the problem was — and no one moved. The third car, the first one not in the accident, must have never seen a crash before. I imagine the driver was gripped with fear. “Now what? I’d go into the oncoming lane, but there’s already been one crunched bumper. No police officer or insurance agent should have to work one small crash in the same place!”

And so we sat, and sat, and sat. The guy behind me had enough, and he and I swapped lanes, cruised by and continued on with our lives. Later, when we realized the swim meet was a bust, I took a different route home. Who knows how the shattered headlight glass was holding things up down that little road.

In the subdivision then, there’s an SUV parked at a weird angle on the road. It looked like the driver was turning into the driveway and just gave up. A bit farther down I was preparing to show him how it was done — “See? Allll the way in the drive … ” — when I noticed a tire in our yard.

There should be no tire in our yard.

A young man is walking around the SUV, which has only three tires on it. He is OK. His father was driving, he is also OK. This is his daughter’s SUV. He’d just had serviced yesterday. She complained of how it was handling so he got in to take it for a spin. He’d made it about 100 yards and this happened:

So this is the drama of the neighborhood. The tire flung off — we think all of the lug nuts were either not returned or improperly attached. We only found one lug nut.

One of the bolts had been sheered off. Some of the rim had been bored out from the damage. The fender well had been cracked.

When the tire slipped off it spun back and up, denting the fender and damaging the running board. The alignment, the disc, the suspension were all damaged.

And here is the AAA wrecker pulling the truck on to take back to the dealership. Note the gouge in the road:

The father was relieved he’d been driving rather than his daughter. All were relieved it happened in the neighborhood rather than the interstate. Dad said the dealership has worked on his cars for years. All agreed it was an honest mistake.

So we met some neighbors we did not previously know. The dad is an attorney. His daughters are in school at nearby Southern Union. His son, who may be about 14, is on pace to become the next crocodile hunter. Apparently he removed an 8-foot alligator from a pond across town last summer by himself.

Do not mess with that kid.

And that’s an exciting evening in our quiet little neighborhood.

Tuesday / adventures / errands / friends / history / iPhone / memories / photo / site — No Comments
3
Jan 12

I did not use the tape

Lovely day. Even the Committee on Greatest Day Ever, which meets quadrennially in a secure location in the Pyrenees, will be required to consider it for an international honorable mention. It only gets the purple ribbon because it is an especially cold day. This is unnecessary, and will be waited-out until a pleasant April day comes along.

Late breakfast at the Barbecue House, where the place was empty and thus the hash browns were plentiful. Mr. Price, if you’re keeping track, is back to not remembering me. He asked if we needed a menu. No thanks, I’ll just have the usual.

Stopped by world headquarters of The War Eagle Reader. We visited with one of Jeremy’s daughters, talked about tomorrow’s stories today and met Torch, official co-cat:

Later I visited Lowe’s, because they’ve offended me less than Home Depot. (The next time I need a hardware part I’ll visit Home Depot, because I hit up Lowe’s this time.) I needed to address an issue in the kitchen sink. Not the sink itself, but an attachment, that retractable spray hose. Not the spray hose, though, but rather the little plastic circle bracket it rests in.

The old one cracked in two before the holidays. I removed all of the cleaning supplies that live under the sink, crawled inside, reached around and through the various pipes and traced the hose up to where it attaches to the plumbing. There was no easy way to get to it, everything was by feel and felt awkward in every way. This was not going to be an easy task.

So at Lowe’s I walked around with the Confused Looked of Resignation until someone in a vest stumbled across my path. I’d been in three sections by then, when he asked “Can I help you find something?” I was surrounded by sinks at the time, but this was the wrong place to find a sink accessory attachment, which was four aisles away.

The good news, the gentleman told me, was that this is attached at the hose, not under the sink. That’s much better. But you have to buy both the nozzle and the flange. Used to be, he said, that you could buy just the flange, but no more. I picked up the cheapest one, which almost matched the one in our kitchen thinking, That might explain somethings.

There are instructions inside. On the outside it says you’ll need an adjustable wrench, adjustable pliers, needle nose pliers and pipe thread tape. I have the tools, or can make do, but I needed the tape. Found it two aisles over, nearer the sinks, so things are well organized. The tape cost $1.06.

Got home, where we had company. Visited for a while, talking of football and jobs and weddings and things.

Later we visited Target, where we received a gift card for Christmas. We decided to pick up frames and continue the house decorating. We walked out with seven frames, two of them will hold a trip we took to San Francisco four years ago. We framed a lithograph from Rome and two pieces from Greece, from our honeymoon two years ago. Good prints take time, you know. You have to study these things, consider them for taste and durability, before you commit them to a frame.

And then, like later tonight, there’s the pulling out the paper examples, replacing the mattes, cleaning the glass and making it all fit together again. And then there’s the difficulty of finding the proper wall. Where will the sun accentuate the proper setting? Will the ceiling fan reflect off this frame?

These are difficult questions.

Anyway. Saw this at Target:

In one swift, 8×10 motion the designer managed to offend at least two different groups of people. Keeping calm having to do with the Blitz, rocking on antithetical to the stiff upper lip of the English establishment. But when rock has become over-produced pop, and with rocking on now meaning a third thing entirely, we’re really just dumbing down the argument. There is no need, the artist suggests, to understand the origin of these expressions, their historical antecedents and how these two things are actually tied together by pushing against one another. Just appreciate the juxtaposition and this wicked awesome line art of a Flying V. And so it will be that a 13-year-old will have a cute, possibly ironic mantra for the Twilight generation.

Later still I returned to the sink fixture. Turned off the water, made the source pipe leak. Emptied the entire two cabinets in a hurry, mopped up the water, fixed the leak and carried on. The instructions tell you to remove the old sprayer, but not how. (It unscrews. Not to worry, though: I have an advanced education.)

Popped off the little clamp, removed the washers. Dropped one washer down the sink, where it fell perfectly through the drain.

Pull the hose out of the sink, putting the flange in place, feeding the hose back through. Insert the new washers, apply the new clamp. Screw on the new nozzle, turn on the water, give everything a try.

It works!

And then I completed reorganized the things under the cabinet.

Thing I’ll take the pipe thread tape back to the store. It never appeared in the directions, nor did any of the wrenches or pliers, so now I’ll be awake all night wondering if I’ve managed to manufactured by own leaky faucet.

Even still, wonderful day.