You Get One Hour And That’s All

No, this isn’t a pay-per-view site with kitten videos…

I am at the computer desk for one hour while a coat of spray varnish dries on a model airplane. I’ve learned that it is dangerous to be in the workshop while paint dries as I eventually touch it to see if it is dry and it isn’t. See? Even perfect characters have flaws…

I think the one-hour rule would be good in many aspects of life. Meals, for instance – if you are going to dawdle for several hours either you are going to eat and drink too much or whatever it is you are pushing round the plate is not worth the time. And timing is everything.

Sex? Well, decide that one for yourself, but consult your partner about the issue. 60 minutes for a 63 -minute person is a bad time to quit.

Reading? Well, you might stretch a bit further if it’s a 19th century French novel with heaving bosoms and creaking bedsprings, but technical journals and political columns can definitely be limited to an hour.

Gardening? Oh, that one could definitely stop at an hour. But one always seems to be in the middle of a rose bush with secaturs – bleeding – doesn’t one? In the end you are not so much pruning as cutting yourself free.

Driving? Yes. Stop the car. Get out and either pee, puke, or purchase petrol. Reset the mechanism.

Television? Set aside an hour a day to watch television. Then don’t. Read a book.

Exercise? If you can sprint on a treadmill or do push-ups for a solid hour – and wish to do this –  there is nothing I can say to you that you can hear.

Hobby work? A fair call. I’m waiting out a coat of varnish so that it can be smoother. if I had a spray room with a door sealing it, I could carry on with some other modelling task while I was waiting.

Photography? An hour in a studio with a glamour model is a short time. With a family of unhappy portrait customers it is an eternity.

 

 

 

The IQ Test – How To Fail Gracefully

Sparked by a website that purported to rank the world’s nations by their IQ…as a result of seeing  an amusing display of Ghanaian military equipment…I fell victim to a 40-question IQ test.

It was free and an amusing exercise in spatial and pattern recognition. I dutifully plodded my way through it into the very hard ones, and finally got to the point where they were going to tell me my IQ.

All I needed to do to learn this was divulge my name, email address, age…and they promised to never use it for bad purposes. I declined to do so and clicked out of the site.

I found out how smart I am by doing this…but I also discovered that I am not smart enough, soon enough – I should have recognised the thing for the data harvester that it was at the very start.

It now calls into question the entire premise of its ” Map Of World IQ’s “. I shall think better of the nations who scored poorly, in the absence of better evidence. If they were smart enough not to participate in the thing at all, they are smarter than I.

” Hello – Put Me Through To Spell – Check, Please…”

Okay. Then put me thru to spelchek, plz.

Look, just go get the goober in your office with the dictionary and put them on the phone.

Okay, now listen. I’m an author of four daily weblog columns and I use your service all the time. It’s the one up at the top of the WordPress dashboard with the ABC and the checkmark, right? Well, I want to know why you are objecting to my grammar and spelling and then letting glaring errors creep through unchallenged.

Like hl. I just typed that and pressed the ABC button and it came out approved. At the same time you red-lined WordPress and goober. WordPress is your own name and a goober is a peanut. The word hl isn’t a word at all – it might have been a typo for ” hole ” or ” hale ” or anything.

I accept the fact that my fingers and sticky keyboard will put out rubbish at times. I welcome your caution about most things and assiduously correct what you flag for me. But you let some howlers through nevertheless, and I’m starting to become worried about he stuff you do approve.

Is there a way that I can register my own style with you – my age, history, and likely speech patterns? Then when I end a sentence with ” eh? ” or use the phrase ” my own whatever ” you need not scold me for it. That’s who I am and that’s how I speak.

I promise not to use bad words – not because I am moral, but because I do not know many of them. I cannot promise to use gender-neutral words and phrases because I have observed for a long time that this has more to do with politics and power than it does with effective communication. Plus I like genders – they can be soothing on cold nights.

 

 

Booze At Bar Prices

When I am out of town – interstate or just in another part of Western Australia – I enjoy a drink in a pub or a tavern. Generally just the one and usually in defiance of the elements; a cold beer in summer and a whiskey or glass of port in winter. Part of the pleasure is the drink and part the experience of the place.

I accept that the price I will pay for the drink is more than I would pay if I had the same glass in my lounge room at home. This is sound business there in the hotel and sound management in front of my own fire. In neither case is there too much money spent – my tastes do not run to champagne or exotic vintages.

But I also do not wish to find that I have paid over the knocker for something that is under the measure – I suspect that this occurs in more places than you’d think. In some cases it is economics and in others ignorance.

The watering of a bottle of anything at a pub apart from a water bottle is supposed to be illegal. It is also impossible to police – at least from the drinking side of the bar. If you order a cocktail or other mixed drink you may very well see something poured from a bottle with a complex measuring spout, but you have no idea what went into the bottle before it was attached to the apparatus. If you order at a table, you get what comes back on a tray. And you are expected to drink it and approve by leaving a tip…in some cases the only authentic part of the transaction is the government banknote you hand over – not even the change is full-strength.

Has it happened to me? Only in three cities – Perth, Melbourne, and Sydney. And only in certain establishments – If you want to be properly served in Melbourne I should recommend that you frequent The Gin Palace or Young and Jackson’s – no half measures there. Here in Perth The Mechanic’s Institute is reliable, and I am still exploring Sydney. Country pubs generally manage beer well, though their kitchens can be problematical.

In all of these occasions you can depend upon your on-board sensors to tell you whether you are getting the real deal, the deal, or the reel. If it tastes fine, it is fine and if it tastes watered-down….well, it is watered down. The saving grace about an establishment that serves a cheatin’ drink is the threshold of the doorway. You can step over it on the way out and never re-cross it.

The REAL Canadian Measurement System

Sometimes people in the United States look at Canada and laugh. And sometimes it is the other way around. This is commendable, as we all need more laughter in our lives, but in some cases it can be a little misplaced. Like the business of laughing at Canada for adopting metric measurement.

The Wikipedia entry on metrication in Canada is pretty comprehensive about it – and points out that it went very well, but many daily measurements are still in the older Imperial numbers – the railways, photograph sizes, football fields, etc. In fact, if you wanted to, you could cheerfully ignore the metric numbers and use the old ones in your head all the time.

But the Wiki does not tell you about the REAL Canadian measuring system and the units that it uses – a system that has been developed over time using local ingredients for local people. Canadians are not selfish, however, and are more than willing to share them with the world, eh?

The basic unit of the CMS ( Canadian Measuring System ) is the Canada Goose. One of these things:

The Canada Goose was chosen for two reasons – they are reasonably common, and they have the word Canada in the name – the basic insecurity of Canadians is thus assuaged.

The Goose, as it is known in normal speech, is used to measure any number of things:

a. Affection. The number of gooses ( not geese ) that you are prepared to administer and/or endure is a measure of your emotional attachment to another person. Those who neither goose nor are goosed have a more distant approach to life. This distance may be abridged during the Christmas and New Year festive season by the use of alcohol. Not as a rub, eh?

b. Intelligence. ” As silly as a goose. ” is instantly understood by all Canadians and is a base-line measurement of many forms of intellectual activity. ” As silly as Justin Trudeau. ” has not yet entered the national vocabulary to the same extent, but it will only be a matter of time before the voting population realise the connection, eh?

c. Honesty. ” As full of shit as a Christmas goose. ” is also well-understood. It is frequently applied to political figures from all parties  – often when they get on the television and discus economic figures. I know a local female journalist to whom this applies…

d. Acceleration. ” Goose it.” is a technical term for applying more fuel to an engine.

People have often pointed out the fact that there are probably more ducks than geese on the flightways and ponds of Canada in the appropriate seasons and have questioned why they do not figure as a unit of measurement. I’ve no idea, other than to imagine that the Walt Disney cartoon character of Donald Duck reminds them of Donald Trump, and that is politically incorrect. Or the Warner Brothers cartoon character Daffy Duck is black, and they find that they are uncomfortable with that.

But that would be drawing a long bow and sound somewhat loony…and who ever heard of naming something a loonie, eh?

 

 

 

The Little World – What Scale Is That?

Why, it’s a different scale from the one you need, of course. That’s how modelling is done. You go to the shop, see a wonderful model product, and then find that it is the wrong size for what you do.

So you change scales. And the next time you go to the hobby shop the best new product is in yet another scale. If you are in luck the shop will be nearby to a liquor store and you can drown your sorrows.

But don’t get too fond of any one particular drink. Because the next time you go to the booze shop they will be out of it and you’ll have to change again…

You have no chance of telling the manufacturers what to do unless they are back-yard resin casters who make limited-run plastic kits for the specialist market. Even then, your influence will be tempered by their market experience and the practicality of the thing. No good asking someone to invest a considerable amount of time and money in master-modelling something that no-one but you will ever want. You stand a far better chance of getting a one-off model by doing scratch-building yourself. The skills involved will do you good, no matter how successful you are in the finished product…and you can at least take heart that whatever you make has real value if it is unique in the world. Others may reel back in horror, but they cannot deny that you are the owner of the only one.

Smart money plays the odds:

a. If you have any particular idea in mind, do some serious thinking beforehand as to the scope of the project. If it is truly a one-off for yourself, and no-one else will ever want or get one, you can make parts by laborious means. If it is the start of a series of models, you’ll want to have more easily repeatable parts to make it up. If it is a commercial venture, the parts that make it up have to be as good as possible for as cheap as they can be made.

b. The fact that it is one-off in itself does not mean that it will always be alone…ie, if you make a 1:29th scale Roto-Rooter truck you can also use it as part of a large-scale railway layout with Bachman trains and bad drainage. An encouragement not to stray too far mathematically from current commercial scales. And be careful what you plant.

c. Smart money also knows its own limitations – particularly in terms of technical skill. If you know you can make buildings but not cars, you choose a scale where someone else makes the cars and you make the buildings. That’s not really as fatuous a statement as you might think…many’s the time when someone has started out with great ability only to foul up the works when they undertake something with which they have no resonance. I cannot make model figures that look good, but I can make buildings to house commercial figures and buy vehicles to display with them. I choose my scale based upon both of those other factors and my dioramas work.

d. Smart money knows other smart money. Using my example, I know that there are figure modellers who can make superb maquettes to people my dioramas – figures with posing, musculature, shading, and painting. Once I conceive of a scene I can measure, sketch, design, and specify in such a way that one of the custom modellers can make exactly what I need. This might also apply to other enthusiasts who are adept at vehicles, landscaping, painting, or weathering. I hope to raise my skill levels, but if they will never be high enough I can employ those who already have them.

e. Smart money knows that it only needs to make so much – a great deal of the realism of a scene is in the mind of the beholder. Michael Paul Smith said as much in his book about Elgin Park – he gets the realism right enough to start the suggestion juices flowing for his audience. They do the rest.

All this having been said, I would be grateful if the die casters and plastic extruders would set to and give us more stock of ordinary goods in the 1:18th scale. Park benches, lamp posts. fire plugs, pillar boxes, wheelie bins and rubbish tins, ordinary motor-car tyres, Belisha beacons, road signs, witches hats, and such. I would love a set of plastic or concrete temporary barriers and a portable light bank. And a complete set of traffic lights and crossing beacons for an intersection would sell like hot cakes!

The Little World – Internet Lists

There is nothing more boring than reading an internet list of lumber sizes…or advertisments from roofing firms in the state of Washington. Unless you are trying to find out something that everyone takes for granted and no-one bothers to record.

I will say that today has had a happy ending – I did find out the measurements for siding on houses in Washington in 1959…and I did find out the forms of cheap mastic roofing sheets that were in use at the time. No-one else in the world cares a damn but at least I can use some of the innumerable facts in storage to do something useful. It is going into the construction of my new model building – a house I lived in as a child.

There must be a whole universe of practical facts that we have come to live with and depend upon…but take no notice whatsoever of. The capacity of concrete trucks…which determines how much concrete they can carry…which determines largely how big a concrete structure is.

This does not apply when you are building flak towers in Vienna and have the slaves of the Todt organisation to make the concrete – then you can make the walls metres thick and impossible to remove, even now. But when you are making a cost-limited structure like a basement for a tract house I would be willing to be a fair amount of the planning and design is predicated on concrete loads per se. Fewer is better, and even numbers of loads are desireable to cut down on wastage.

That’s concrete – I was researching siding and found that there were really only three lengths supplied – all of which are shorter than modern practice. Why? Because the delivery trucks were shorter. There was no sheet siding used as it was just before the era of the vinyl cladding. I would also be willing to bet that it might have been James Hardy asbestos siding as well – sourced from the Canadian plants rather than the Australian ones. Good thing the paint finish was unblemished and I didn’t breathe heavily.

I was terrifically impressed with the roofing sites – mastic is a large sheet of heavily filled tarpaper with patterns impressed upon it but the use of it rather than shingles, tiles, or metal sheets argues that the house we lived in was a cheap-built kit job. As a kid I never had that impression – it was big and complex. I had little to compare it to – all the rented houses we lived in were of the same construction, and none of them home for long enough to form a distinct impression. Perhaps the entire world lived in simpler houses then…

All the same, I wish they had used longer pieces of siding for the thing – this gluing 150mm strips in is getting tedious.