Weaver VS World

Two Men, Two Legs, Two DWI's

2007.08.28

Lifted from Postcrescent.com

*Two men arrested for driving same vehicle while intoxicated* *Gannett Wisconsin Newspapers*

ABBOTSFORD - Two Dorchester men were arrested for operating the same vehicle while intoxicated in the Abbotsford area.

Harvey J. Miller, 43, who has no legs, was steering the 1985 Chevrolet truck from the driver's seat while Edwin H. Marzinske, 55, operated the brake and gas pedals, according to the Colby/Abbotsford Police report.

They were headed northbound on Hiline Avenue in Abbotsford when police pulled them over at 2:40 a.m. Aug. 18.

Miller admitted he was too drunk to drive but argued he wasn't operating the vehicle because he couldn't push the pedals. Miller was issued a citation for a third drunk driving offense, while Marzinske was cited for a second. Both men were also cited for operating after revocation.

A third drunk man in the vehicle walked himself home after the incident.

What?

Little attention is given to this mysterious "third drunk man." In his infinite wisdom, he decides to climb in and ride shotgun in the cab of an '85 Chevy, no doubt littered with Sun Drop cans and beef jerky wrappers. He leaves operation of the steering wheel, turn signals, and hi-beams to the better half of Mr. Miller, while Eddie works the accelerator and brakes fumbling for 1390 AM hoping for some Skynyrd. Five-Oh comes around the corner and "third drunk man" suddenly develops a passion for good ideas. Falls out of the cab and walks himself home. What?

Meanwhile, Miller gets cited for his third drunk driving offense leaving Eddie not far behind with the only even prime.

See, I've been to Abbotsford. I've had to hitchhike in Abbotsford, at around bar close on a weekend after spending a few hours trying to fix the fuel pump on an '89 Civic hatchback in the parking lot of Mr. B's. Guess who stopped? A drunken man donning odors whose sources I have only identified in the years following the incident as a young man... namely "stale whiskey" and "unclean woman." It was a learning experience to say the least, and really sold me on Abbotsford, Wisconsin. What?

-John "some things are just beyond me" Urbanek

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All the Way to the Right and Down

2007.08.13

'bout a month has gone by since driving the 2007 Honda Civic Si off the Honda City lot. Thirty-three hundred miles later and it is time for an update...

"VTEC works in reverse!"

It's true... I won't go into the details but VTEC is completely functional when in 'R'. It is a rather interesting experience to say the least. The distinct whine of a straight cut reverse gear coupled with the scream of the K20Z3 at 8200 RPM was enough to embarrass all parties in the vehicle. So much that a Honda fanboy in the parking lot made a comment as we entered the movie theater. He heard the secondary cam profile engage... while going backwards and could help but bring it up as we strolled by. The debate is still going on as to whether his comments were in admiration or he was making fun of the stupidity of the act...

My biggest problem with the whole VTEC reverse affair is that by design it is pretty tough to check top speed. Firmly planted in the macho male reverse position, left hand at 12, right hand stretched movie theater style on the passenger's seat, head cranked Top Gun style checkin' for bogeys, gasps and all. No sense looking forward at the instrument panel when racing backwards. Boyish curiosity took over this afternoon and I decided to make David Maculay proud, with nothing but a few published statistics and a little gray matter. Top speed can't be that hard to calculate? I digress.

The 2007 Civic Si Sedan comes stock with 215/45R17's front and back. Reverse gear ratio is published at 3.583 and final drive ratio published at 4.765. Going to guess and say I let off at about 8200 RPM. Secondary cams were engaged for quite a while, but I know I didn't bump the rev limiter (at 8500).

Given:
Reverse Ratio R_rev: 3.583
Final Drive Ratio R_fin: 4.765
Driving Tire Specs: 215/45R17
Engine RPM: 8200

First step is to calculate a few numbers from the given information. Ideally, we want the absolute drive ratio (R_abs) while in reverse. That is, the number of revolutions of the crankshaft rotates for a single rotation of the driving wheels.

R_abs = R_rev * R_fin = 3.583 * 4.765 = 16.75

From this we gather that it takes 16.75 rotations at the crankshaft to make the tires rotate once, in reverse gear. This number changes as gears change.
Next, we need the outer circumference of the tire. This could be measured easily with string and a tape measure or by marking the the sidewall directly above the pavement, rolling the car forward until the mark is back down, then measuring the linear distance from point to point. I didn't want to get up... Let's calculate.
With 215/45R17's the tire is 8.46 in wide (215mm). Sidewall height is 45% of the width. Wheel (rim) diameter is 17 in. Wheel diameter plus twice the sidewall height (one for for each side) gives us total outer rotational diameter of the tire.

Total Outer Rotational Diameter = Wheel Diameter + [2 * ( Tire Width * Aspect Percentage )] = 17 in + [2 * (8.46 in * 0.45)] = 24.61 in.
Total Outer Rotational Circumference = 24.61 * 3.141 = 77.30 in

We now know that for every 16.75 rotations of the crankshaft the car travels 77.30 inches in reverse. We are more interested in speed (well, velocity, but let's stick to the scalar part), so phrased another way...
At 8200 crankshaft revolutions per minute, the tire rotates 489.6 times in that same minute (8200 / 16.75).
A tire with outer rotational circumference of 77.30 inches rotating 489.6 times per minute displaces 37,846 inches per minute.
Inches per minute to miles per hour is a factor of (60 [min/hr] / 63,360 [in/mi] ) = 0.00095 [min*mi]/[hr*in] (Units! Units! Units!)
37,846 in/min * 0.00095 [min*mi]/[hr*in] = 35.95 mi/hr

The final big ass formula is as follows:

[(Engine RPM / R_abs) * Tot Rot Circumference in Inches ] * 0.00095 = Speed in miles per hour

The R_abs is calculated using Gear Ratio and Final Drive Ratio.
The Total Rotational Circumference is calculated using manufacturer provided wheel and tire specifications.

If you are still with me at this point I commend you. In truth I have no idea if anything above is correct... Makes sense to me. One of you physics boys or ME's are more than welcome to tear me apart... :)

Bottom line: 36 mi/hr in reverse! Best part was sailing into the parking spot at that speed. Doesn't get better than feeling ABS engage on blacktop... in reverse.

-John "VTEC in Reverse" Urbanek

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"I think I've got another gear."

2007.07.17

Tuesday, 10th of July, 5:30pm rolls around and I fly out the door looking forward to a great workout at Krav. Little did I know I would start the Saturn for the last time. The only other place I've heard noises that engine and transmission made are porno movies and pneumatically driven impact tools. Reaching a top speed of six miles per hour with the pedal to the floorboard I decided against testing the car's resolve on Highway 45. Shortly after exiting the lot I returned, defeated... and pissed.

Much to my favor, I had been anticipating this day for the past few months and had planned accordingly. I'll spare you the details on the new car buying process, but I drove a spanking new 2007 Honda Civic Si off the lot not 18 hours later for thousands less than MSRP. While I am not an expert on buying cars, I like to think I am a few steps ahead of the game. The first time I saw the dealer's asking price on the sticker was on the way home when I looked at the window sticker, laying in the back seat as removed by the detailers. Didn't even know what they wanted until after I bought the car. Can't let their greed cloud the mind. The only number that matters is what you are willing to pay.

Close ratio six speed manual, sport tuned suspension, tuned exhaust... All qualities in the car that affected my ability to keep it under 4000 (redline is 8200 for this pig) for the first 600 miles during the "break-in" period. Even more of a deterrent is this little thing called VTEC, short for "Hold The F*ck On To Something." Kicking in at 5800 rpm it transforms the vehicle from sporty econobox to a hellspawn reincarnated. How long did it take me to break in the car...? 'Bout 5800 rpm. Drive it like you stole it...

Independence Day 2007

What happens on Clear Lake, stays on clear lake. For the most part...

• Independence Day 2007 Pics

-John "Home of the VTEC Grocery Store Run" Urbanek

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It's Just A Movie Yeah Yeah

2007.06.29

Rarely does a movie capture or portray technical wizardry accurately. Firewall, starring Indiana Jones with a laptop, is a terrible movie. Plot holes, miscasts, and below average script aside, what little technical material is presented on screen is quite laughable.

I didn't laugh quite as hard as the first time I saw The Net, but the dialog below combined with the screenshot made me want to locate the technical advisor for the film and whack him on the head with a... well, firewall. A Cisco ASA 5510 could crack a skull, maybe choke him out with a console cable.

Harry:What've we got?
Zahf:Brute force login. The interesting thing is even though he's coming in through Hong Kong, Korea, and Malaysia he's trying sequential account numbers. He's hacking all over the board.
Harry: Move over for me... Let's try a rule change on him. See what he does. Put in an IPS signature that blackholes the pattern. See if that slows him down.
Zahf:That'd slow me down. That'd be resistant to false positives too.
Harry: Yep.

• If manually creating an ACL to deny source traffic is this bank's IT department's idea of creating an IPS signature, they may want to look at replacing their network communication equipment with equivalent Fisher Price models.
• If you are going to deny sourced traffic with an ACL, it helps to know the source. ACLing traffic in the same manner as a fourth grade male dresses himself is reserved for last days of work and Friday's at 5pm. "Sourced from 192.168.0.10 you say? ACL the entire 172.16.4.0/24. That'll slow him down..."
• As much as I understand the reasoning for using private IP ranges in movies (equivalent to 555 exchange in telecommunications), it'd be nice to see something a little more original than 192.168.0.0/24.
• Must be relying on elven magii to protect the rest of the network. Two line ACL following a "specific deny, permit all" paradigm is about as useful as a hat full of busted assholes.
• Time to watch Matrix: Reloaded. nmap FTW.

Terrible movie.

-John

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Goosnargh

2007.06.04

I like to respect the symbiotic bond we humans share with nature. Nature encompassing many things... like the goose droppings that line the walkway to my front door or the "I'm Lovin' It" McDonald's bags blowing happily in the breeze on a blustery day. All the more odd why today, when spanked by nature, I decided to give a little back.

Maybe it was because I was late paying rent this month and the $35 service charge had me irked. Maybe it was the crappy weather. Maybe, just maybe, last night's foray into Second Life had me a little off kilter.

On the way to the clubhouse to pay rent + $35 I notice a parade of Candadian geese. No biggie, there's usually hundreds of them on the lake. But wait, the two adults are caring for a few chics. More importantly, they had taken over the walking path leading to the clubhouse. I am usually only confrontational with leashed and/or chained animals (read: wuss) so I lowered my head and walked by without making sudden movements. I noticed no hostility.

Paid my rent, tolerated a few lame jokes about the weather and Mondays, watched the FedEx driver get denied by the receptionist, and was on my way. Crossing the foot bridge I noticed the parade had taken a stronger position over the walking path and my traversal through their ill-perceived domain might not be as easy. I contemplated taking an alternate route but the flip-flops were in no mood for off-roading. Besides, those things in between my legs that make me XY, who I'll refer to as Patton and Custer, barked that nothing but a frontal approach was worthy of their existence.

As soon as I was within a few meters one of the adults started hissing. Within a few seconds, it was on. They chased, I ran like a schoolgirl. Pretty simple relationship. The only things I was thinking as I was fleeing for my life were a) don't lose your flip-flops, b) don't step in any goose shit, and c) you were just training firearm disarms with former Israeli commandos on Saturday... why are you running from a few ten pound birds that feed on plants?

Reaching my humble abode, I realized something had to be done to salvage what was left of Patton and Custer, who were now trying to escape the "you call yourself a man" through my kneecaps. If anything else, I could save another man's dignity. The Makita MAC2400 was too big to transport, and after additional thought I figured blowing air at something that can fly probably isn't the greatest attack vector. Hey, it's a new toy... square peg into round hole.

Very quickly I decided on week old bread, Rooster Sauce, and a big ass pail of water. Revenge is a dish best served hot, and if you've ever had Rooster Sauce, I gather you know what I mean.

-John "gaggle, gaggle" Urbanek

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Not Forgotten

2007.05.27

Throughout all of the celebration and partying this weekend, it was and still is (tomorrow) important to not lose sight of why. It is weekends like these that I remember most about him. Never one to "tap out" early, on your case the moment your drink dropped below half, Steve was always there to let you know you hadn't had enough to drink yet.

I try not to delve into politics in online forums or when writing, but take some time out of your day tomorrow and go outside. Look up at the sun. The same sun of those before. Enjoy the warmth and appreciate the ground you are standing on. War is a shame, but seemingly necessary trade of animal man. As instruments of this trade fall, we lose fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters. I don't ask for nationalism or even patriotism, but the bottom line is that what has happened has happened. Those before have paid the cost of animal man because a cost had to paid at the time. Take a few moments, regardless of your positions, to remember the fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters who have taken your place in the trade of animal man.

Frame 5, Row 5, Center

DS4

Little drama, lot's o' fun.

DS4 Pictures Root

-John

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mY stumAk h3rts

2007.05.11

So the Arby's 5 for 5.95, or as my stomach knows it, 10 for 11.90 deal is back. According to Arby's executives it is "here to stay." Tell you what, I grow a little tired of these games Arby's plays with me. Tease and taunt me with such a deal. They gain my consumer confidence and let their ever so addictive sandwiches sink their proverbial teeth into my prune sized insula only to have the deal revolked when I crave it the most.

Needless to say I have taken full advantage of the offer in the past few days. I don't care if I smell like Arby's... all the time, my stomach feels good. I reached a breaking point when today I noticed my face smelled like the time I ate more McDonald's than would fit in the Bag-A-McMeal calorie counter. It's moments like those, when my diet violently disturbs olfactory output, that I... nevermind.

Mountain Dew Baja Blast

Only available at Taco Bell. A Taco Bell exclusive soda...

...not for long

(cracks neck and stretches hands out in front of him)

I Bought a New Toy

She's twin stacked, can sustain a 90 psi blow moving 4.2 cubic feet per minute. Pretty petite at only 77 pounds. Dual couplers for jobs that require a friend. Special tubing reduces moisture in her lines while a removable piece of cast iron increases her pump life. She's equipped with a lever handled ball valve to drain any discharge post use. Ordered her over the Internet. Big "Makita" tattoo on her backside.

-John "I know" Urbanek

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People Run Better With Sleep, Cars Run Better With Oil

2007.05.06

I've been waging war the past week. The first battle with insomnia, to which I have no defense. The second however, has been a seesaw affair with tides turning on the hour. This war I speak of is with the ants that have entered my domain. As of now they are confined to my room, being in the corner of the building it was breached first.

They've set up camp somewhere around my desk. Good for them is that I haven't found their base. Bad for them is that I am at the computer all hours of the night. Good for them is that my desk is black and the little bastards blend in. Bad for them is that a blank stare due to insomnia is great for picking up movement. Thus far I've been defending my homestead one by one. Picking them off without discretion.

Returned from Spiderman 3 this evening (a terrible movie BTW) to find a new batallion fighting for position on my desk. They made the mistake of actually crossing sacred domain... my computers. In their defense, I did leave an empty can of Mountain Dew on my desk (doh) before leaving.

I hope they enjoyed their last meal, because tomorrow around noon the Enola Gay will be making her rounds. Fat Man and Little Boy, the boric acid bombs I plan on dropping tomorrow should take care of these pesky pavement ants.

Saturn Loves Her Oil Like a Sailor Loves His Rum

Anyone who has gone for a spin in the pile of plastic and scrap metal that moves me from a to b is keenly aware of the growing list of problems that Jupiter's neighbor deals with on a daily basis. Preventative maintenance is not exactly what I would call the general outlook I keep when it comes to the Saturn. This maintenance free mind-set is only aggravated by the thought of a new vehicle. Why would I pump money into a car that is going away?

After reviewing my finances, it would be in my best interest to hang on to it for at least another hundred thousand miles or next oil change... whichever comes first (see below).

With that in mind I decided to perform the first of much needed maintenance. With ramps, socket set, Pennzoil, a wannabe Fram (on sale generic), and an oil catch I set out on a mission. To understate it slightly, the oil hadn't been changed (or checked) in quite some time. Pulled up on the ramps, found my 9/16 and removed the drain plug from the oil pan.

Remember in the movie Batman Returns when Oswald Cobblepot (Penguin), played by Danny Devito is mortally wounded and stumbles down the ramp into the water where he dies? Do you remember the thick black sludge that was oozing out of his mouth? Picture that with cornstarch and arrowroot. What came out of my oilpan didn't flow, it plopped. Even worse, it didn't plop for long. It plopped once... that was it. Car didn't have any f*ckin' oil in it... LoL. Either Saturn's burn oil or it has really been that long... In an effort to save my mansoul from the depths of automotive purgatory I am going to go with the former.

Don't even get me started on the oil filter that was literally melted to its mounting. After fifteen minutes of vulgar language and grunting I went to AutoZone (in a differnt car) and snagged a filter wrench. Came back and tried to use it... Twelve people playing Jenga in a Chinese bathroom would have been less cramped. Chucked the wrench across the parking lot and decided to give vulgar language another shot. Switched to my left hand and it was off in no time.

Four quarts of Pennzoil later and it was like driving a new car... that was still in need of a coolant flush, a transmission overhaul, new plugs, and probably some new gaskets. Interestingly enough, the knocking sounds have subsided and the engine no longer cuts out under heavy acceleration. A car needs oil to run... who'da thunk it?

-John "-7 to Gearhead Cred" Urbanek

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Fun With Finest

2007.04.30

I would like to preface this by saying that every encounter I have personally had with a member of the Milwaukee Police Force and the Milwaukee Fire Department has garnered my personal praise and thanks for their professionalism and courtesy. It is a tough job these fine folks perform. Just a shame that sometimes they have to put up with clowns like me.

Friday night I was driving home at about 3:30am. I exit I43 North at Brown Deer Road and head West toward home. A cop is sitting on the offramp like usual on a Friday night. I think nothing of it and continue along. About a mile and half West on Brown Deer I see the flashing red and blue's in my rearview and pull off to the side of the road. Having had nothing to drink in close to eight hours I knew I was fine. I wasn't speeding, excessively anyway, and to my knowledge all of the exterior lighting on my car was functional and the plates weren't expired.

With my license and registration pre-located and ready to be handed over I rolled down my window and prepared for the worst. He was leaning in real close obviously trying to smell for alcohol on my breath. "Good evening, you touched the white line and then made a lane change without signaling." Engage brain before mouth I've always been told, good thing I didn't say the first thing that came to my mind. I'll leave it to your imagination

He asked for my license and I realized he was just doing his job. Looking for drunks on the way home. I would have done the same thing. He asked if I had been drinking. I told him I had a beer with dinner eight hours prior. He then realized I was obviously not impaired, just a bad driver. "You seem fine to me, but can you please recite the ABC's for me?"

Now I haven't recited the ABC's in maybe ten years. I'll be honest with you, I was mildly concerned with not passing a metric used to guage competency in kindergarteners. I have to say those ABC's are like writing in cursive for XY's, a little rusty at first but it comes back. By 'G' I was on fire. So much that I didn't stop when I got to 'Z'. The "little shit" in me took over and I started at it backwards.

"Z Y X W V U..."

Officer let me get to 'N' before "Have a nice night sir."

Don't Need No Credit Card to Ride This Train

Went ambulance and firetruck chasing on the tail end of the Sunday night run through the upper west side of Milwaukee. They were about four blocks from the apartment so it wasn't too far. Sat outside 7406 (I think) Glenview for about twenty minutes enjoying the flashing lights and cooling off. Then the back of the firetruck caught my eye. I could ride that I thought to myself. Hmm...

It was much faster than running.

-John "That's The Power of Love" Urbanek

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Milk Please

2007.04.12

The last five days of my life have been dominated by one thing and one thing only. Cookies. I've always enjoyed cookies, but in the past they have been limited to just snacks. The role cookies play in my life has mysteriously changed in the last five days. Before I would crave lasagna and garlic bread. Such meals have since been replaced with a bag of ginger snaps and a side an oatmeal based treat.

Store bought cookies like ginger snaps, Oreos, Chewy Chips Ahoy are classics. The treats the Girl Scouts at the local Pick n Save sell me make me feel good about myself while I get fat knowing that I am helping support tomorrow's... Bah.

John, you say... All this talk of cookies and you haven't mentioned any of the homemade variety. I've been quite busy this week and haven't had time to cook (or eat for that matter), hence the cookie fling. Betty f*ckin' Crocker I am not. Trying to convince the few cooks in my life to bake for me has been fruitless. Excuses range from "I'm busy" to "You need to be here to eat them while they are fresh" to my personal favorite "Do it yourself...you cheapass." Bah.

In response to this homemade cookie dilema I have found an alternative. A workaround if you will. They sell cigarettes, gasoline, Pabst, lock De-Icer, and homemade cookies in threes Saran wrapped for your safety. The name of this establishment is none other than Kwik Trip. Home to hundreds of freshly baked cookies and friendly cashiers whose sole hiring decision rests on missing at least 16% of their teeth, the remainder of which must be tarnished a nauseating yellow from years of coffee consumption out of an appropriatly never washed Kwik Trip plastic thermos that spends most of its life discharging its contents all over itself and the floorboards of their '87 Dodge Shadow.

Kwik Trip never fails. Not quite like the time I polished off the Johnsonville Stadium Brats at every Kwik Trip from Genesee Depot to my doorstep, but still noteworthy was today's adventure which put a dent in the local KT distributor's stock of Oatmeal Raisin and anything containing peanut butter.

Mmm.

-John "Fine, the floorboards of their '91 Beretta... Snap" Urbanek

Going to hell for making fun of KT... so worth it.

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