In-oggy-vation

shower

Maybe you are wondering how I wash my ass crack in the Walmart parking lot. Well, sometimes I go into the bathrooms and use paper towels, but that's unsatisfying. When I am on the beach I simply hose myself off because it's a thousand degrees and the water is cooler than the air temp. But in the high, cool, winter desert water temp stays around 40 degrees unless it is in the sun. Thus...my radiant solar heat roof top shower solution with a length of hose so I spin the pouch over the edge and the hose reaches to the ground where I...

low tech sponge and bucket method...lame.

...have a privacy screen made from my Viva Mexico curtains...If I waste no time, I can usually take a shower and be dried and dressed when the police or security show up to escort me off the property.

I had plans to run a 20ft length of clear hose in loops on the roof but there is a problem with that because the water must run from high to low. If there are any low spots then gravity will not push it all out since there is no reservoir on top...or I'll need to open an air valve at the end of the hose...it will only run to the low spot and the hose will run dry. I haven't really tried it because I don't want to attach junk to my roof but I forsee some engineering problems. It has to be thought out first. Maybe a sloped rail that the hose attaches to from high to low with a reservoir. I don't know. I will give $5 Oggy Bucks to anyone who can solve this engineering problem .The roof is fiberglass and I'm trying to keep a minimum number of holes in it to avoid leaks. Clear hose lets water heat fast on sunny days but it can also freeze at night. I think the portable radiant shower pouch is the simplest solution because it can be moved inside during the night when the water will freeze. Otherwise the water in the hose will expand and crack the hose and render the whole thing useless. But in the Tropics a shower solution is not really needed because any water in any reservoir will suffice to get me clean. In the high desert in winter I need the water to be exposed to sunlight for a few hours before I can shower and then it will be hot.

It's all very scientific but I can shower with a gallon of water or less depending on if I've let my hair get out of control.

The other solution is to visit a community aquatic park or rec center with a gym and a shower area. The one I visited in Cedar City had a hot tub...so after a invigorating exercise routine I sat with the retired community in the Arthritis Springs.

Lack of Privacy

I learned how to repair shoes in Nicaragua so I bought some more time for my worn out running sneakers. The trick is to do it all on the side of a busy street under a shade tree. Americans throw too much away, waste frivolously and irresponsibly. The waste is out of control.

Can you pick which Jerk Hook is Guatemalan and which one is Nicaraguan? The difference is 80 years of U.S. Marines occupying your country and keeping it a defacto slave plantation to produce cheap fruit.

The heat loosened the glue of my bridge, so I stretched it open with overtight guitar strings, rammed a shim in the crack, forced some glue in there by standing the guitar on end and shoving a piece of plastic in and out...

...then totally panicked when my plan to clamp it failed because the C-clamp was half an inch too short. What followed was typical Oggy, shirtless in a public parking lot, tossing everything around to find some combination that will work before the glue dries. Ended up using my suspension strap rig, two wooden shims, and an old metal hacksaw. This guitar is my oldest possession but the thin tone does not warrant a $200 bill to pay a pro luthier to do this in a more pretty and private manner. All that matters is sufficient glue and strong clamps for an hour.

Vansanity

Where to begin? This week proves I'm not on vacation. I'm not productive in a socially acceptable sense, but I'm also not unproductive. The side view mirror saga came to a head and required I replace it with a cheap plastic piece of crap from Autozone. At least this one does not rattle and vibrate so bad I can't look at it. And the old one was so big that when I wanted to see if any vehicles were coming from the left I had to lean forward to look around the mirror. It was a hazard. This one is low enough that I can actually see to my left.

Side View Mirror

Then I decided to use some metallic pearl leather paint to put a Jim Morrison quote on my boots. I don't know why. I was sober. I have no excuse. Jim Morrison once asked, "Where is your will to be weird?" And I guess my answer is my side zip cowboy boots with these custom tooled concho boot straps and a tribute to Jim.

Jim Morrison Lives

Leather crafts keep me busy, so I bought a sheep skin rug and made an urnrelated coin purse....

Leather Hat Bands

I'm a small step closer to opening a Custom tooled leather hat band store. You might think the rivets connecting the straps are intentional but that is what happens when I cut the leather flat and the whole thing doesn't fit right because the crown of the hat leans back. It would take some engineering to cut a one piece leather band. But I like the rivets because they can be adjusted.

Oggy's Spirit Symbol

The straw sombrero is from El Paso

I guess the idea is to practice cutting and tooling leather for my dashboard, which is a daunting project. I managed to find a leather gouge tool but I was too impatient to practice with it for any length of time. I dove into the project without any tracing or idea of what I was going to carve, inadequate lighting, no hard surface to work on. I'm not a big fan of the flowers that are typical leather tool designs. I considered burning it with my solder iron but I think chemicals were used to tan this big shoulder of leather, Guatemalan chemicals, so they are double bad and burning Guatemalan chemicals near your face is no bueno.

 I heard a sad story while in Guatemala that the humane society was dumping 60 dog corpses a week into a nearby river along side a pile of car batteries and used motor oil. Actually, another story was the terrible algae blooms in Lago Atitlan, because there is no sewage treatment and all sewage runs into the lake. So, some scam company says they have a chemical that can treat the algae. First off, there is no way in the world a Guatemalan chemical company is going to be based off of tested science, so that's the first red flag. The second red flag was some family relation between the company and the official who decides it is time to clean up the lake. The final red flag was the chemical was some god-awful untested cocktail of death. Did they test it on another lake, or even in a bathtub? Oh, no. Nothing. Did they even test a small amount on the lake first? Oh, no. The Guatemalan way is to dump the entire inventory into the lake, untested, without warning, take the money from the scam official and buy a Land Rover...wait until all the fish die and unexplained rashes appear on locals...and then a real biological chemist determines the "cleaning chemical" is ten times worse than any bacteria or algae or human shit that was in the lake to begin with and this was the worst thing they could pour into the lake. Lago Atitlan is one of the highest volcanic lakes in the world and god help you if you drive there.
The chemical company mysteriously disappears, the official vanishes, maybe beheaded, the lake water deteriorates further and that is the cycle of insanity in Guatemala. That's not related at all to leather hat bands but I thought I would share it anyway.

They have fancy leather stain, but I use $1 Guatemalan boot shine

Up close at Oggy's leather craft skills. Symmetry is not a strong point. Note the Eyelet.

Oggy is on a leather craft spree. Plusera and another pick holder

Acros 240 Refrigedor

Relay and overload removed from compressor

Some things change, like the year, and other things never change, like Oggy's war with disposable appliances. I think the last time I had access to a refrigerator that wasn't in a trailer was in 2012 in St. Louis. Since then I like to say I use Walmart as my refrigerator. So I finally get to Guatemala and rent a room in a suite with a shared kitchen and I put my mantequilla and leche in the refrigerator and pat myself on the back. The light in the refrigerator is working so I figured it needed time to cool down since my Argentinian housemate always eats out and has never used the refrigerator. I never heard it running and assumed it seldom ran because it's always about 52 degrees in the apartment. Then I realized the ice never froze and the milk never got colder than room temperature and the only reason it didn't spoil was because it's always cold in the apartment.The thing never worked...it's merely an insulated box where I put stuff.

Relay

 So, the current quest involves a simple process of testing the relay and overload protection device to see if they are the problem. The other problem could be some kind of broken thermostat which I think is unlikely since it's merely a dial. I even took the thermostat cover off and inspected the plugs and wires so I think it's ok. Or the dreaded compressor, which dooms the whole unit because it's the most expensive part on it. The compressor is 10 years old so it's possible, but most likely is these two plastic items, relay or overload protection. The symptoms right now are no sound, no motor, no clicking, no attempt to engage the compressor, but there is light. I never heard it run so it will be interesting to see if this is the problem. I found a hack that bypasses the relay and has the compressor run full time but it involved tools which are in my van that is in storage with my tortured moped. It's also a temporary fix that would at least determine if the compressor is shot but would only postpone replacement of these two items.

Overload Protection

Projects really test my troubleshooting abilities because these gadgets bear only a remote resemblance to what other brands look like...but because they plug into a universal three prongs on the compressor and the schematic is at my skill level, I deduced what they were. It's a Brazillian refrigerator, imported to Mexico and smuggled to Guatemala. All this for cold milk, it's crazy.

Man Ventures Into New Territory...Then He Found This...

CAREFULLY remove plastic bushing

One cool thing about extended battles with 40 year old moped fuel delivery systems is that I've had to go into areas I've never gone. The plastic intake bushing/shim that is pressed into my Sha Dell'Orto 12/10 carb is an example. This bushing fits over the intake and then I tighten it down and that creates a seal. Well, it isn't sealing and research tells me this isn't uncommon. People use aluminum cans as additional shims and I realized that my carb rebuild kit came with an o-ring that I could put into the hole if I could get the shim out.

Man Works on Moped...You Won't Believe What Happened Next.

I laugh mirthlessly, like a convicted sex offender, when I write titles like that because I imagine what kind of asshole I would be if I were serious. As big an asshole as Beej Rudd? The psuedo-news factoid is almost taking over the internet. Am I the only person who has noticed that? If you walked up to me on the street, said, "Hello, Oggy, you want to know what happened when a guy jumped in a lion cage?" I would have a strong urge to punch you in the mouth. If I wanted to know shit like that I'd subscribe to www.Iamanasshole.com.

From The Dose

But on the Internet these kinds of frivolous remotely useless anecdotes basically litter the landscape, just waiting for your aunt to forward you the link, and since the enslaved Thai midwife who is chained to a computer and is forced to generate titillating titles must write something or else starve, they use the Enquirer "Bat Boy' method to titillate the Bangkok word pimps . Maybe they get half a cent every time someone clicks on their link. And if you buy a pair of shoes after going to that ad sponsored web site they might get $4 (as long as you don't clear all your cookies before purchasing). So they make $5 a day on that ad. Volume is everything and it angers me to the point of higher blood pressure, self-loathing angst, arthritic back pain, spine crushing pathology.

I wake up, work on the moped for 8 hours, eat, repeat.

You will believe what happened next. Yes, you will not be surprised. I lied about that part. Nothing about my experiences with my moped will shock you. I wrote that to intrigue you, but I'm actually full of shit. I work on my moped. It's 40 years old. I think the condenser has failed because when the engine heats up I lose all power. It will idle roughly but any throttle at all kills the engine. I know there is fuel in the float because I check it every time I take it off. It sounds like it has leaned out or is starved, but the condenser is also implicated in these kinds of problems. And I know there is an air leak between the carb and the manifold but that's been there for 6 years. Is that so fucking shocking? It shouldn't be. 40 fucking years this moped has been beat down hard. You know I bought it in pieces the same time I bought the van and all three of us have been up and down, cried some hard tears, been real close to the edge a number of times, looked in the mirror and didn't like what we saw. Oh, yes. The moped gets me around, I go to the gym and exercise my back because if I don't then I can't get out of bed. But I don't want to walk 40 minutes to get to the gym. Maybe that makes me an asshole, that I ride a moped to the gym. But that's my situation. Believe it. So I have to keep the moped running or else it's a huge fucking paperweight I carry around in the van waiting for some magical Italian mechanic to appear with the right parts. In fact, all I do is go to the gym and fix the moped. 8 hours on the moped, 2 hours at the gym. It's pretty fucking funny.

I like Torquoise, but this is blue clay. A chick would wear this, but not Oggy. Anyone want a homemade blue clay belt buckle?

Wisdom of the Ages

"I too had woven a kind of basket of a delicate texture, but I had not made it worth any one's while to buy them. Yet not the less, in my case, did I think it worth my while to weave them, and instead of studying how to make it worth men's while to buy my baskets, I studied rather how to avoid the necessity of selling them."  Thoreau in Walden

Didn't need to take both roll pins off.

 Thoreau wrote those words around 1846 and when I first read them around 1986 I felt they were worth reflecting on...continuing Thoreau's research, maybe embracing the unpopular results. "Instead of studying how [to sell the baskets], I studied how to avoid the necessity of selling them."
This is a central conflict I've encountered in the following 30 years. The question is not how to fix the broken sewage drain pipe or the c4 transmission or paint the plaster wall or establish reliable 480v power in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert to periodically activate oil circulating pumps...no, that is merely one question. A more fundamental question is how to avoid the necessity of these projects...but the process of answering that question is fraught with conflict. The treadmill of time will not pause while Oggy sorts out the factors involved in modern living. And because the grey beard will wither with the fall leaves and the ligaments dry in cracked harmony with the tendons, the answer can not come quickly enough. Thoreau was aware that he had asked questions which required more than one life to answer, so he wrote them down in the hopes others would pick up where he left off. And still time marches on. Current Events are the modern narcotic, the nihilistic comments are the new age version of town halls. The process of questioning is negated by the time spent answering.

improvisation

This drive gear for a sears garage door opener is a good example. While the world waits for Oggy to sort all the complications out this door still needs to open. The gear was broken when someone used a crowbar to tear the door off and stripped the old gear...in order to access the garage that was empty, so they broke some beer bottles and proceeded to break into the house with same crowbar. Is the bigger issue the drive gear? Or something else? Or both? But the roll pins have to be hammered out and in. And the gear needs grease and reassembly. What does this all mean?

roll pin insertion

My present conclusion is that the necessity of selling baskets is a paradigm facade, a construct of a failing mythology...but an easy role to play so we wear the pathetic costumes and dance when the comic orchestra strings ring. The Holy Bible was written specifically for descendents of Egyptian slaves who followed Moses to freedom but it encourages industry like a Martha Stewart cookbook written for dinosaurs...so we can't deny the value of industry. Thoreau was industrious to a point. He determined that too much industry returned the slave not to Egypt but to the office...to mock the legacy of Moses with a 74 hour week in the conduit trenches. We do this why? For a future that must be better than our present, which raises the question of how terrible the era of the New Testament must have been. Autistic html robots present gadgets for the consumption of gadget addicts. Industry must double to support the doubling of industry. The essential questions are processing speed...mechanical and electrical diagrams...vocabulary is usurped by economists. Humanity without philosophy is a McDonalds commercial.

Broken Gear

I expected to find a note begging for help in Chinese

Sort of looks intact, but then...

This plastic gear has been chewed up by the fan shaft. The teeth are gone so the fan will not rotate to cool Oggy flesh.

If the worst mechanical problem I have lately is the gearing of my rotating fan (now stationary) then I'm doing good. But I think the design of a plastic gear being turned by a brass coated gear moving at high RPMs was something I'll take up with the Chinese designer. They probably save thirty cents by making this crucial gear plastic but it meant the fan will rotate for only about one year. The fan itself will work because that's a separate motor. This mechanical rotating mechanism all relies on the interlocking gears and since one is plastic it will be eaten up by the brass coated one. Thanks China!

I wonder if I can find or make a replacement gear from metal.

Sobriety

I'm finding things to do so I don't have to kneel on the floor and install a million more cracked tiles. That job is getting tedious. And for those of you who care, you are supposed to sand down the seams of the backerboard. I neglected to do this (thinking the mortar would bring everything up to level) and now the tile feels like there are tree roots growing underneath it. Not to mention the cracked tiles are not all level with each other so the razor sharp edges are exposed. Someone please take my DIY license away.









(I'm a little distracted because I just got a phone call that went like this...a private number called....
"Hello?"
"HHHHIIII. Tee Hee." (The voice is girlish kind of forced teenage sexpot. Like an underage phone sex line.)
"Can I help you?"
"You can help me by jacking off into the phone."
"I'm sorry?"
"Jack off, Oggy. Oggy, the jack off."
"Do we know each other?"
"You met me today."
"I don't leave the house. Ever."
"Why not?"
"Who are you?"
"You want a ride? Tee Hee."
"Yes. Are you going to Boston? Look..."
"I can see you. Are you playing your guitar or jacking off?"
"You're funny. If you can see me, what am I doing now?" (I give the finger to the phone.)
"Jerking off?"
"Bzzzzzz! Wrong."
"So what are you doing?"
"ANSWERING DRUNK DIALING LOSER'S PHONE CALLS AT TWO IN THE MORNING!"
"Hahhahaha. teee heeee. Do you murder people in the basement?"
"What concern is that of yours? What is your problem?"
"How old are you?"
"Old enough to know a drunk high school kid when I hear her. You know you have class tomorrow."
"OK, DADDY."
"Man, I weep for the future. I fucking weep like Thomas Paine on crack."
"hahahah. Thomas Who?"
"Nevermind. Just some asshole."
"I like you. You wanna fuck tomorrow?"
"I see. Now I see. You know what?"
"What?"
"I can predict your past. I can tell your future too, something to do with community college and an abusive husband, but let me see if I get your past right. You saw my number in the St. Louis rideshare ads. Yes? You saw my name. You saw the gear I'm bringing to Boston. Am I right so far?"
"I like your voice. Do you have a big cock?"
"...and then you decide to call the number and have a laugh at my expense. Right? Well, I'm paying money for this prank call. A dime a minute. We're already at two quarters of my change. And I've got things to write at this very moment. I WAS TRYING TO TRUST PEOPLE ON CRAIGSLIST AND YOU BETRAYED ME!"
"Do you jack off all night? huhuhuhuhahahahah" (she starts panting but it's fake, like she thinks people fuck like they do in porn.) "I'm eating poop."
"This is too much. You get drunk and crank call my cell phone? Are you insane? Me? Oggy Bleacher? You cunt! You fucking freak. Your daddy doesn't give you enough attention?"
"Hahahahahaha."
"Is this what you do for fun? Snort crystal meth and call random people?"
"Bwahahahahahah! My Name is Oggy and I want a blow job. Tee hehheheee!"
"Keep laughing. I AM FROM THE FUTURE AND I WILL BRING THE WRATH OF THE WHITE WOLF UPON YOUR HEAD!"
"hahahahahaha. tee hee. I eat poop."
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER! IF I CATCH YOU I'LL TEAR YOUR HEART OUT!"
"hahahahahahahah!"
I hang up and immediately sit down to write.)



I tried to avoid getting involved with the fence project because I am hearing impaired and power saws cut through my head like nails through butter. In fact, this injury developed building crappy fences for a horse ranch in CA. It's only gotten worse. The Nurse wanted some privacy for her new hot tub and I'm the freeloader in the basement so there was no way out. I did manage to get away long enough to miss digging five 3' holes in the dense Mississippi mud using a manual post hole digger. Fuck that! Tee heee!

I didn't get out of staining the shit. The Nurse saw bamboo back in our Venice days and had some shipped from California. Like $300 in bamboo but the cedar cost $400 to frame it, thus negating any sustainability credit from the bamboo. This girl throws money around. I wanted to get reclaimed scrap lumber and nail something together. Lash it together with coat hangers...like my van.

This is the final product. A kind of Tiki cafe/Spa.






Fence: $700 materials. $600 labor. $100 beer. sub total $1400






Spa: $5000 subtotal $5000






Electrical work: materials $300. Labor $150 sub total $450






Grand total: $6850.


I gotta admit that it was nice to lay in with the waterfall feature and the back jets hitting my inflamed sciatica.
Always the fashion slave...my watch says 1974 and my belt buckle says 1969.

And this is for the chicken farmer if I am ever able to get back there. With drunk teenage girls calling me every night the chances are slim. That is supposed to say SOBER but I was drunk and stoned when I tooled it so now it says SOBEA, which is how they pronounce it in Nottingham.