the real MaCoy.
Tune
a guitar tuner.
Submarine plane?
Manuel seems to have spotted a sunken jet near the Renton Boeing plant.
In January, a 737 was sunk to create a divers’ reef near Vancouver Island.
Could this be the PBM-5 that was supposed to be raised about 10 years ago? It looks about the right size. However, the wing profile of the possible plane Manuel found seems more like a jet than a prop plane.
Here is a page on plane wrecks in Lake Washington. The Submerged Cultural Resources Exploration Team maintains a list of dives in the lake; no jet appears among them.
Stump
Every few days, I have been grabbing a couple of logs from my fast diminishing woodpile to split for kindling. As I think I noted previously, I needed something to split the logs against, and I have been using a massive piece of scrap wood, a former support beam that I take to have been a leftover from the 1968 house remodel.
As I have cut against it with varying futility, I was somewhat amazed to discover that the beam is solid cedar. I noted this one afternoon as I emerged from my car after work and was astounded by the sharp, lovely scent of fresh-cut cedar emerging from the half-century-old wood.
On my way in to town today, I noticed a two-foot stump by the side of the road along a public greensward. On arriving home this afternoon, I hefted the accursedly heavy thing and stumbled up the hill to my yard, where it now awaits the woodsman’s axe. Fetch the tumbril.
The Wind
The weather here lately is cold and clear, the golden brightness of the sun blaring in some apparent appeal for balance after our forty days of forty nights earlier this year. Today, also, there have been strong winds here and there in the region, causing power outages and the like.
Here, my neighbor’s spinning vents are whirling madly. I know this because one needs oiling, badly, and the high-pitched, constant whistling squeak is beginning to drive me nuts.
Reading
Of late, I have been breasting my way through the purple prose of Rafael Sabatini‘s The Sea Hawk (almost nothing, it seems, to do with the Errol Flynn flick of 1940 despite the distinct probability that the film is an adaptation) on my superannuated, but happily green-glowing, Palm Vx. Sadly, as I have come to enjoy reading material in a darkened room, the Palm will not sync with my current main machine, as both it and my Palm-powered phone share a username and there is no easy way to change a username on a Palm machine.
Happily, I experimentally tried beaming a Palm Reader doc from the phone to the decrepit museum piece. It went swimmingly, and now my alarm clock is also my bedside reader, loaded with this and that. If only I could figure out how to cobble a working AvantGo conduit over the beam.
Game
Enki Bilal and Pierre Christin’s The Hunting Party.
Comet Crash?
Hannah Levin asks about rumors concerning the sale (and imputed demise) of the sainted Comet, chez Slog. Commenters finger Caffe Vitta as the likely culprit.
On a side note, Slog, please adopt conventional article-and-comment linky pages such that your occasional flashes of wit may become more widely disseminated. Thank you.
Yarrr
NYT: A Cancer Drug Shows Promise, at a Price That Many Can’t Pay: “Genentech plans to charge about $100,000 a year for the drug Avastin as a treatment for breast and lung cancer.”
It certainly shows evidence of a well thought-out marketing program when you name your only-for-the-wealthy drug after a pre-boarding pirate cry.
Baz Faz
Phooey. I fiddled with some network interface settings on whybark.com and have made the server temporarily invisible to the outside world! I think that by the time I post this, things will be put right. Apologies for the disappearance.