My Favourite things: The smells

The smell of kerosene. It reminds me of my paternal grandfather's workshop. My sister's and I adored that man, and he us.

Non-emission controlled car exhaust. Another one from child hood. The Old Man builds race cars and engines. My sisters and I spent many Saturday nights at a small track outside of Toronto watching cars go around in circles and eating chips. My sister's claim they hate racing. Though they do admit that, when ever they pass a race on television, they can't stop themselves from looking and thinking "Oh, whose racing? What's going on? Whose winning?" Then, much to their chagrin, they realize what they are doing and curse their formative years! I'd hope that when a Hot Rod passes by them and wafts that sweetness by their noses they'll be taken back to those nights and smile. They were actually some of the happier times for our family, for all the grumbling they did at the time.

Bacon and coffee.

My kids. Children have a smell. Babies especially. They should make Fabreeze smell like that. Sales would quadruple.

Electionista

I don't even know what that is. I just made it up, I think. Well here, imagined reader, is my definition.

Electionista: n. A person who follows elections and politics very closely and cares enough about it to make fun of the whole process.

Getting down to it 2

So that last post took forever to post because of technology. This further cements my desire for things that are supposed to make life easier and more enjoyable to do just that.

I live in a fairly rural area. Rural enough that we don't get cable out here and the cost to get one of those line of sight jobbies is excruciatingly prohibitive. So I'm stuck with dial-up. Not high speed just plain, old, don't expect to download that anytime soon, dial-up. This is also one of the reasons no pictures will be posted on this blog until I get some pictures on disc and find a better connection somewhere.

Anyhoo, I figured I might as well explain to you, imagined reader, why this site is called what it is. The original Timid Turtle is not a person really, it is a thing. Or was a thing, but I'll get to that. It was a 1958 Chevy two-door that had a 302 cu. in. (that's inches cubed or cubic inches) and ran a respectable 11.5 in the quarter mile. So you can compare, in 1999 a Viper could only manage high twelves. Not bad for an old tub running in the late '60's.

The car was owned by my father and his friend. It provided my Old Man with lots of stories of fun and failure.

One of my favourite pictures of the Old Man is of him standing over that engine while they were at Cayuga raceway. He was getting on for my age now and you could see the bald spot just barely starting. He hadn't grown a beard yet so he still looked real young, he still had a Greaser kind of hair style, white shirt, blue jeans, very fifties. He was fiddling around with the fuel injection trumpets and someone snapped the photo. He looks calm and confident in that photo. They raced that car before he and my mom got married. My oldest sister was born around six years after that car and I wouldn't be around for another four after her.

I think I like that car, the idea of it, that photo of my dad because I get to see small portions of what kind of life he had before my siblings and I were born. There was an entire lifetime of events between the day that photo was taken to the day I was born. It's the same man but two completely different worlds. I guess life is like that for everyone.

Nobody knows exactly what happened to the car. Well, I shouldn't say that, they know what happened. The Old Man and his buddy decided to sell the car. My mom showed it to some guy while my dad was at work and the next day the car was gone. So, nobody knows what happened to the car, after that.

So that's why I named the blog what I did. I don't know if I'll keep the name forever, but it seemed more real than trying to be clever. Well, more real than trying to be "super" clever!

Getting down to it

I don't like technology. It infuriates me. I can hear you saying " so what's with the blog then? Isn't that conforming to the world of web and the technology that spawned it?" So here is what I mean. Technology isn't bad in and of itself, it's what happens to people who get a hold of it that I can't stand.

I'm at the local auto parts store looking for a specific item so I ask the man behind the counter with the mistaken impression that he might be able to help.
"Well" he says " I'll just look that up on the computer". He gets the part number and brings me to the item.
"This" I say "is nothing like what I need."
"But that's what the computer says you need." That little phrase is enough to make my blood boil. Essentially what this goub is saying is,"My computer tells me what to think".
"Well" I say "your computer is wrong! This part is the part I need." I show Mr. Too Old For Any Use my broken part "and what you've shown me looks nothing like that."
"Sorry, the computer....."

Now it's not technologies fault this guy wouldn't a starter from a starfish. But the people who implement these computerized stock/parts tracking systems think that the system is so good that any moron can do it, instead of thinking we could make a competent person even more efficient. And what happens to people when they get menial jobs, doing menial things, for menial pay? I'm sure you can guess.

A new day dawns

So this what a blog is, eh? Well, let's see how long this lasts.

I was talking to my sisters about doing something with some drawings that I have and i figured this is probably just as good a way to get them out in the open as any.

Also, as my old man always says; everyone is entitled to my opinion! So I hope, if there is anyone reding this, I'll be able to entertain you with my quick wit and charm. Barring wit and charm I can ususally be counted on for bouts of stupidity which can also be entertaining.

Cheers!