Siri knows

I love my iPhone 5.

Does it all end on April 9?

I’ve been using a program called For Two Wheels Only to keep all of my motorcycling records since August, 2000 and I love it.

When Windows 7 came out, I was flummoxed because FTWO wouldn’t run on a 64 bit system. I contacted the developer of FTWO, David Portugal, and he recommended upgrading to a version of Win7 that included an XP simulator that worked with 32 bit programs like his. I did and it works fine on my desktop computer.

My netbook came with XP and allows me to enter data into FTWO from the road or wherever I happen to be.

Happy, happy, happy.

Until April 9, when Microsoft cuts off support for XP, exposing it to hackers, hijackers, malware, all kinds of evil shit.

So if I want to keep using my netbook on the road in various and sundry Wifi environments, I need to jump up to Win7 which is constantly being patched and protected by Microsoft.

But I won’t have FTWO anymore.

I emailed David this morning to ask if he has rewritten FTWO for 64 bit systems, but he hasn’t replied and I doubt if he has updated his program for guys like me.

So I wait for a miracle.

Miss Dora

Miss Dora surveys her world from her favorite chair on the back porch.

Memo to self: clean up the porch floor this weekend!

A treasure trove of Lafayette (Ind.) memories

I grew up in Delphi, Ind., where the nearest city of any consequence was Lafayette, some 18 miles west and south.

That’s where all of the good shopping was – department stores, furniture stores, music stores and, of course, the life-altering McHaley’s Surplus.

I spent a lot of time in Lafayette, so it seemed natural to sign up for a Facebook group called “You know you’re from Lafayette, if…”

One of the posts this week was a photo of the old Columbian Park swimming pool, where I took swimming lessons in the 1950s. Looking for more images, I did a Google search and found aerial photos of the pool by Jesse McGreevy. I recognized the name from the days when I read and carried the Lafayette Journal & Courier. A little exploring brought me to a web site lovingly created and maintained by his granddaughter Christy Marks, who is also a professional photographer.

The site is full of amazing images from McGreevy’s archives, including lots of photos of his kids, who were contemporaries of mine. I never knew them, but my ex wife, a Lafayette girl, grew up with them.

If you grew up in Lafayette or near there in the 1950s and ‘60s, or are just nostalgic for the period, you need to check out The Photos of William Jesse McGreevy.

The North Face of our house where ice persists

UPS is scheduled to deliver a package from Amazon.com today, but the front steps remained encased in sleety ice, despite temperatures as warm as 74º yesterday.

So I got out the spade, chopped it into manageable chunks and cleared them away. Voila! We have a front door again.

Digging again

The ice is gone and Dora is back to her digging.

Fortunately, I caught her in time to block the new tunnel with a couple of logs.

We’re waiting for Dacus Fence Co. to repair the damaged portion of our fence, after which we will install a low electric wire to discourage further tunnels. Unfortunately, it will be another week or so before the fence gets fixed, so we have to watch her like a hawk.

She pauses now and then to see if anyone is watching. I was.

He rode all the way from Kokomo. In the dark!

The first time I saw a kid anywhere close to my age on a motorcycle was in the autumn of 1957.

I was a 7th grader, hanging out with my friends one evening outside Bob’s Cafe on Main Street in Delphi, Ind.

That’s when a high school aged kid rode up on a motorcycle. This was years before the Japanese bikes showed up in the U.S., so it pretty much had to be American or British. Being a Germanophile, I would have remembered if it was a BMW.

It had a big windscreen and I was astonished and unspeakably impressed to learn he had ridden it from Kokomo. That was 35 miles away and it seemed an impossible distance for a kid to ride a motorcycle.

I don’t remember much about the rider except that he struck me as adventurous to the point of being a little scary.

I wonder if I’ve ever left that impression with anyone.

Daytona dreaming…

A year ago tonight, I dined with new friends at High Tides at Snack Jack, a popular oceanside bar and grill on A1A just south of Flagler Beach, Fla.

The best I could manage today was about a 40-mile round trip ride to Mr. T’s Riverside, a mega liquor store just across the state line in Cardwell, Mo. where I bought a six-pack of Dunkel Spaten.

I would dearly love to be at Bike Week this week, but it’s no fun solo and nobody I know would be camping with me at the Holiday Travel Park where I usually stay.

So it goes. Marking the days to the first rally my Indy friends will attend that is within reach – probably the European Riders Rally in May in Burkesville, Ky.

The Mystery of Radio Shack

Radio Shack officials announced last week they plan to close about 1,000 stores.

Brings to mind this brilliant piece that ran on The Onion web site on April 23, 2007:

FORT WORTH, TX—Despite having been on the job for nine months, RadioShack CEO Julian Day said Monday that he still has "no idea" how the home electronics store manages to stay open.

"There must be some sort of business model that enables this company to make money, but I'll be damned if I know what it is," Day said. "You wouldn't think that people still buy enough strobe lights and extension cords to support an entire nationwide chain, but I guess they must, or I wouldn't have this desk to sit behind all day."

The retail outlet boasts more than 6,000 locations in the United States, and is known best for its wall-sized displays of obscure-looking analog electronics components and its notoriously desperate, high-pressure sales staff. Nevertheless, it ranks as a Fortune 500 company, with gross revenues of over $4.5 billion and fiscal quarter earnings averaging tens of millions of dollars.

"Have you even been inside of a RadioShack recently?" Day asked. "Just walking into the place makes you feel vaguely depressed and alienated. Maybe our customers are at the mall anyway and don't feel like driving to Best Buy? I suppose that's possible, but still, it's just...weird."

After taking over as CEO, Day ordered a comprehensive, top-down review of RadioShack's administrative operations, inventory and purchasing, suppliers, demographics, and marketing strategies. He has also diligently pored over weekly budget reports, met with investors, taken numerous conference calls with regional managers about "circulars or flyers or something," and even spent hours playing with the company's "baffling" 200-In-One electronics kit. Yet so far none of these things have helped Day understand the moribund company's apparent allure. 

"Even the name 'RadioShack'—can you imagine two less appealing words placed next to one another?" Day said. "What is that, some kind of World War II terminology? Are ham radio operators still around, even? Aren't we in the digital age?"

"Well, our customers are out there somewhere, and thank God they are," Day added.

One of Day's theories about RadioShack's continued solvency involves wedding DJs, emergency cord replacement, and off-brand wireless telephones. Another theory entails countless RadioShack gift cards that sit unredeemed in their recipients' wallets. Day has even conjectured that the store is "still coasting on" an enormous fortune made from remote-control toy cars in the mid-1970s.

Day admitted, however, that none of these theories seems particularly plausible.

"I once went into a RadioShack location incognito in order to gauge customer service," Day said. "It was about as inviting as a visit to the DMV. For the life of me, I couldn't see anything I wanted to buy. Finally, I figured I'd pick up some Enercell AA batteries, though truthfully they're not appreciably cheaper than the name brands."

"I know one thing," Day continued. "If Sony and JVC start including gold-tipped cable cords with their products, we're screwed."

In the cover letter to his December 2006 report to investors, "Radio Shack: Still Here In The 21st Century," Day wrote that he had no reason to believe that the coming year would not be every bit as good as years past, provided that people kept on doing things much the same way they always had.

Despite this cheerful boosterism, Day admitted that nothing has changed during his tenure and he doesn't exactly know what he can do to improve the chain.

"I'd like to capitalize on the store's strong points, but I honestly don't know what they are," Day said. "Every location is full of bizarre adapters, random chargers, and old boom boxes, and some sales guy is constantly hovering over you. It's like walking into your grandpa's basement. You always expect to see something cool, but it never delivers."

Added Day: "I may never know the answer. No matter how many times I punch the sales figures into this crappy Tandy desk calculator, it just doesn't add up."

Not very welcoming

Even though most of the sleety ice has melted, our front steps are an exception.

Shaded as they are on the north side of the house, they remain impassable unless you have crampons and an ice axe.

This may be why FedEx hasn’t delivered three packages I’ve been expecting from the Amazon.com Vine Program that were due on Wednesday.

Fortunately for us, we do almost all of our to-ing and fro-ing through the garage, to this represents only a minor inconvenience.

The sun is out. but the temperature is only 40 and probably won’t reach the predicted high of 55 today. The forecast is for a high of 65 tomorrow and 73 Tuesday, so we may have front door access again by mid-week.

Free at last!

Our neighbor Shannon came to our rescue this morning with his big Dodge RAM truck and yanked our hapless Subaru Forester out of the slime and onto solid ground.

The shirt says it all

This has been a day of frustration.

The temperature climbed above freezing by mid-morning and the heavy mantel of sleety ice has been melting all day, but the ground is still white everywhere I look.

I made an attempt to free the Subaru about 3:30 p.m. and succeeded in backing it about 10 feet farther into the yard before it bogged down in slush and mud.

And our renter, who texted me on Tuesday that he would make his late rent payment this week, texted me this afternoon to say he won’t be able to pay until next Friday, which is two weeks late. I haven’t responded yet because I’m too angry to compose a civil communication.

We went through this a year ago and Maria let him know in very clear language that the next time he played us like this, he’d better start looking for a new home.

Were it not for the tax deductible interest on the mortgage for that house, I would sell it at a loss just to be rid of it and him.

So here we sit, still held prisoner by ice and slush, since I don’t think the Lexus could get out of our subdivision without getting stuck.

Maybe we can get out tomorrow, but more likely Sunday.

Slushed in

Maria was going to a 3 p.m. meeting in Jonesboro this afternoon, but she never got out of the driveway.

The sun and rising temperatures have melted the sleet/ice into an ultra-slick slush that even defeated the mighty Subaru Forester’s All Wheel Drive.

Maria, like me, learned to drive in snowy, slushy Indiana winters, and she gave it a superb try, but the Subaru and its standard street tires was just not up to the challenge.

The slush is so treacherous that I don’t think the Subaru could have made it out of our subdivision and back. Needless to say, the Lexus would be helpless in this stuff.

So all we can do is wait for the sun to do its work and melt this crap.

Saving bird lives

The ground is still covered with a concrete-like layer of ice and snow, depriving the birds of much of their natural food.

Thanks to son Steve and his lovely wife Nicky, we are able to let the birds dine in style with this Christmas gift of a bird feeder. This morning, it was swarmed by finches.

Dora

Dora just turned 10 months old and is everything we hoped she would be.

A year ago tomorrow evening

This is me, a year ago tomorrow night, putting the cover on my bike outside a motel in Prattville, Ala.

If I look totally fried, it’s because I was after a day of riding in temperatures in the 30s and low 40s without the benefit of my Gerbings electric jacket liner and gloves.

Yes, I rode to Daytona Beach Bike Week and home again last year in miserable cold, kept alive only by the judicious use of windstopper technology.

The problem? My bike’s accessory power circuit couldn’t handle electric clothing and GPS, so GPS won out.

Since then, I’ve had a Gerbings power plug installed that is wired directly to the battery, so there will be no such issues.

Unfortunately, I’ll miss Bike Week this year because it looks like none of my Indianapolis BMW Club friends will make it and I hate camping and touring Bike Week by myself.

Besides, it will probably be Sunday or Monday before the ice melts enough to ride out of our subdivision.

So it goes.

20 years ago at Bike Week

Twenty years ago, I rode from my home in Carmel, Ind. to my second Daytona Beach Bike Week.

It was before I acquired heated electric gear, so I braved frigid northern winds in a snowmobile suit I bought at the ‘93 Bike Week vendor extravaganza at the Daytona Motor Speedway.

I camped at the Space Coast BMW Club enclave at Bulow Campground, some 15 miles northwest of Daytona Beach, and was delighted to find two of the Bradshaw brothers with whom I had grown up in Delphi, Ind.

On the left is Jim “Bo” Bradshaw, who was living in Atlanta, Ga., and the time, his brother Dick, who was running the family business – Delphi Body Works – and, of course, me. I was living in an apartment in Carmel, Ind. at the time.

The Bradshaw house was a block south of the Flora house in the east end of Delphi. Dick is two years older than I and Jim is a year younger. I hope they are well and happy.

Welcome to Ice Station Dora

We’re snow/ice-bound in our home in the woods for the next day or three, but the power stayed on and no trees came down last night.

The freezing rain was short-lived yesterday before changing to sleet, but then it sleeted like a mofo for hour upon hour, building up about a 6-8-inch layer of sleety ice before changing to snow.

The crust, covered with about a quarter-inch of snow, is like concrete, which is why the dogs look like they’re standing on a white floor.

There’s a foot-high mound of frozen sleet piled up outside the garage door. The sun is shining on it right now, but the temperature is 13ºF, so we can expect only some negligible sublimation today. The forecasters say the temperature will remain below freezing until sometime Wednesday and Thursday, with a predicted high of 44º, looks like the first day of serious melting.

Consequently, schools will almost certainly be closed through Wednesday and maybe beyond. I have no expectation of being able to drive anywhere until late Wednesday.

That said, we’re comfortable and well-provisioned and very relieved we didn’t have to use our generator and kerosene heater.

Ready and waiting

I’ve got our generator and our kerosene heater ready for action and we’re waiting to see if the freezing rain, that has yet to start in earnest, will knock out our electricity.

The Lexus is in the garage with a full tank of gas.

My only real concern is trees or limbs falling onto – or through – the roof. Other than that, the much heralded coming ice storm doesn’t concern me that much.

When we left off yesterday, I was waiting for the water heater to drain so I could scoot it away from the wall to accommodate the fiberglass jacket.

That accomplished, I turned on the water and closed the hot water relief valve, but was alarmed to see the valve wouldn’t close completely and a steady dribble continued from the overflow pipe.

Consulting the water heater owner’s manual, I discovered this valve should be tested once a year and, if it won’t close completely, it should be replaced. I have never tested it in the six years we’ve lived here and doubt if the previous owner did either.

Happily, we have a reliable and responsive plumber nearby and he and his wife were here within an hour of my call for help.

He replaced the valve and showed me how to thoroughly flush the water heater tank, which resulted in a huge amount of calcium being blown out. He also checked the hot water relief valve on the other water heater and pronounced it sound. Total cost: $71.

As a consequence, the flushed-out water heater is now much more efficient and gives us water much hotter than we’ve ever had. Once the weather settles down, I plan to flush out the other water heater tank. I figured the knowledge I got about how to maintain water heaters was worth the price of the work.

Then we drove in to Sam’s Club for provisions, stopping at Lowe’s on the way home to pick up a vacuum belt set which I installed after dinner.

So here I sit, watching the Weather Channel website radar and waiting, as prepared as we can be for whatever comes.

Just another quiet Saturday morning

The good news is that my headcold is almost gone. I woke up feeling remarkably good and looking forward to a quiet Saturday at home.

I brought the dogs in and fed them in their kennels, then sat down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

The first sign of trouble came when Maria decided to put the dogs out and lost control of them. Dora raced into the living room and jumped up onto the couch with me, which is a happy thing.

Then I heard Maria shouting at Jack to “drop it” and saw him charging into the living room via the kitchen, dining room, and foyer with a chewed-open ZipLoc bag of flour in his mouth and laying a thick trail of flour behind him.

We got him stopped halfway through the living room and persuaded him to surrender his prize before being ushered out into the back yard.

Maria went after the flour with a broom and dustpan, fearing the vacuum would create a floury cloud.

I followed up with the Hoover, but once I got to the foyer and adjusted the beater brush for a shorter carpet nap, it locked up and burned one or both belts.

Fortunately, I had a ShopVac in reserve and found it did a better job getting up the flour than did the Hoover.

Flour cleaned up, but now a vacuum to repair, necessitating a trip sometime soon to the hardware store for replacement belts.

We’re expecting an ice storm tomorrow and likely power outages, so it seemed like a good time to wrap the water heater that serves our bathroom with the fiberglass jacket I got last week from Amazon.com.

After clearing away six years of spider webs and accumulated dust, I discovered that whoever installed the water heater put it almost flush against a wall – too close to pass the jacket around.

Fortunately, the water lines to and from the heater are flexible, allowing for the heater position to be adjusted. Unfortunately, a 60-gallon water heater holds 480 pounds of water, making it too heavy for me to shift.

Undaunted, I set about retrieving the hose, which I attached to the drain valve, shut off the water and electric supply to the heater and opened the valve with a screwdriver. But no water drained. WTF?

The water heater owner’s manual, which lives in a large accordion folder with dozens of other operator’s manuals for most of the devices and appliances we own, says to open a nearby hot water faucet to relieve the vacuum. I did, with no significant improvement in the trickle of water.

Then I noticed the hot water relief valve on the upper right side of the heater and opened it. A gurgling sound commenced and I saw water beginning to flow – not gush, just flow – out of the hose onto the driveway.

I was disturbed to notice the escaping water carried chunks of what look like calcium, which suggests this draining is long overdue and may be too little and too late to rescue the water heater from death by calcification.

So now I’m at my desk, waiting for the heater to drain enough to be shifted so I can wrap it in fiberglass, refill it and turn the electricity back on.

Then I can fix the vacuum and prepare for the ice apocalypse.