From Alaska To Arizona [2013]

     MY DAD is pilot, he has his own tiny plane that he loves to fly. Every year we fly from our house in Alaska to our house in Arizona, and every year we fly back. This takes takes us a week and most of the time we are in Canada.
     If you are a new reader I’ll just lay it on the line here; I have some neuroses. These manifest in what I would not precisely categorise as obsessive behaviours, but I do prefer certain things to be consistent in my life. Certain patterns. Listening to the same record repeatedly, Espresso in the morning, a particular method of dress. I see old home movies of myself and I recognise these behaviours but for different things and I see young me lose his mind when these patterns are broken.
     So I have been trying to get away from that.

The Coasters

Vagabond Blues

Went to get get my Learners Permit today {Won it first try, Badaboom!} and Dad and I went to vagabond blues afterwards.

The CWA of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #104: Road Trip

Dr. Smith woke up.
 His back and neck hurt, as if he had been sleeping on the ground all night.
  He opened his eyes,
    He was in a tent.
Ah, That explains it, then. He thought.
He could smell something cooking, bacon.
 He realised he hadn't eaten in eight or nine hours.
Dr. Smith walked out of the tent into the sunshine.  Capt. Brown was cooking a pan on the campfire, “Good Morning!” He said, brightly.
 Dr. Smith grumbled.
Wayne King and His orchestra played “ Josephine” Somewhere nearby, Capt. Brown had found a record player and some records in Dr. Smith's suitcase, thoughtfully providing dining music.

-=fig. 650: good morning, middle of nowhere=-

“Here.” Capt. Brown said, handing Dr. Smith a cup. Dr. Smith drank deeply, then spat it all out, gagging. “What is this stuff!” he managed.
  “Coffee,” Capt. brown said, with a hurt expression.  He didn't like seeing his cooking spat out all over the ground. “I percolated it myself. Just now.”
 Dr. Smith examined the remains of the foul drink.  Percolated coffee.  Well, they were on the run, he hadn't expected espresso every morning.
  Actually, he had.
  “So, Where are we?” He asked.
   “France…Somewhere. West of Legopolis, near a dried-up riverbed. That's all I know.” Capt. Brown sipped his coffee, he had never had any trouble drinking percolated coffee.  The trick, he knew, was to drink it fast. He surmised that Dr. Smith's problem was he expected coffee to taste good. Where Capt. Brown drank solely for the caffeine content.
“Why'd we stop here?” Asked Dr. Smith as he procured a slice of bacon and what could have once been scrambled eggs.
 “Oh, uh. No reason.”
  “James.”

  “Fine! The car ran out of gas. We're stuck.”
Dr. Smith laughed, “Gas? We have plenty of that. Did you look in the trunk?”
    “…the trunk?”
    “Yes, James, the trunk. As you know, it's like my briefcase in that it links back to a room in my house. Except this room is filled with gas, and tyres, and spare engine parts.” As he talked Dr. Smith opened the trunk, set the false bottom aside, and climbed down the ladder.
 He disappeared into the darkness. The ratchet style click of a pull-chain light-switch, and the darkness wasn't so dark at all.
 “One tankful of gas?” Asked his voice, from far-off.
 “Right.” Answered Capt. Brown. He couldn't believe he had forgotten about the trunk.
 Dr. Smith appeared climbing up the ladder, dragging one tankful of gas. “Gas is…really heavy.” he wheezed.
  Capt. Brown, who was bigger and stronger than Dr. Smith, gave him a hand.
“Haut les mains, les intrus!”

-=fig. 651: les intrus=-

“I feel like we've done this bit before.” Said Dr. Smith.
 “Qu'entendez-vous, les intrus?” Shouted Capt. Brown. France was a huge country whose borders nearly engulf the tiny country/city of Legopolis, and you wouldn't last long as mayor if you didn't know some french. 
“Je veux dire simplement que. C'est ma terre, ce sont mes hommes, et ce sont…leurs armes.” Said the man in front, with the green suit and stupid red feather in his hat. 
“AaaAaah…*gulp*”  Said. Capt. brown. 
 “What? WHAT?” Asked Dr. Smith, He didn't speak french. 
  “Private property.” Capt. Brown said, “Trespassers will be shot.”
   “Are you…Armed, James?”
   “It's eight-o’clock in the morning, Zachary Of course I'm armed.”
   “Lay down cover fire, but don't kill any of them.” 
   “But…Why not?”
    “Because we're in the wrong here, James, and also I have a better idea but I need their heads down.”
Capt. Brown ducked behind the Jag, The french started shooting, and Dr. Smith dove into the tent, all in the same moment.
  Capt. Brown drew his guns, two automatic machine pistols, from the recesses of his jacket.  Capt. Brown took an ambidextrous approach to weaponry.
  The french rushed forward, but their distinct lack of co-ordination meant that mainly what they did was trip on each other.
 Dr. smith emerged from the tent.

-=fig. 652: dr. smith's better idea=-

He fired.
 Blue light arced from the thing he has holding, and encased the frenchmen in a semi-transparent blue bubble.

-=fig. 653: taget neutralised=- 

“What did you do to them?” Capt. Brown asked, standing at ease. 
 “I encased them in a…Let's call it a time bubble. They're going to relieve the last five, six seconds of their life for the next hour or so.”
  “So what benign purpose did you design this one for?” Asked Capt. Brown.
   “Organ transplants. But it's not really ready yet, too temperamental. For example, I have no idea how long that time bubble will last, I set it for an hour, but it could be a day, could be six minutes. I think it's a power distribution issue.  Oh, yes, what that means to us is we need to really hurry, pack up and leave.  I'll put the gas in while you collapse the tent.” Dr. Smith never could figure out tents.

-=-

-=fig. 654: flying off=-

“I say we go back to the city. and let me sort this out.” Capt. Brown said, he wasn't to comfortable with all this nature.
 “Not yet. Come on, James, we're fugitives in the wilds of france! How much more exciting can you get!”
 Capt. Brown held the private belief that his life had become much too exciting as of late. Usually because of Dr. Smith.
 He hardly had any time for mayoring, anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done any paperwork…filing…reviewed zoning permits…Maybe Dr. Smith wasn't so bad after all.

The CWA of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #96: Forgot About That

Last Week, as You Recall…
Dr. Smith opened the door.

-=fig. 614: polite company=-

“Mr. Radio, Mr. Radio's Heavies. JEEVES WE GOT COMPANY!”
A moment's pause,
 “THE POLITE KIND! Please come in. May I ask why you're here?”
“My offices have gone over the tapes of our conversation, and no-one could figure out what I had been sold, or why it cost so much.”
  “Then come in! Come in. Do you like Tea?”
    “No.”
      “Coffee it is then. JEEVES!  COFFEE FOR FIVE!”

-=shortly=-

-=fig. 614: everyone ignore the jester=-

“So…” Capt. Brown started, “You want to know what you've been sold.”

   “Yes.” Mr. Radio said. 

     “You were sold” Said Capt. Brown “The right to broadcast on TaVee. Your network, QPFA would be the first onto this new medium, and as you can guess this is a huge advantage.”

   “Alright, So I'm buying the rights off'f the Doctor here, but if he can retain a butler, why is my contract so expensive?  He obviously doesn't need the money.” 

 “Jeeves!” Dr. Smith said, “Do I pay you?”

   “No Sir.” Said Jeeves. 

      “There's your answer.” Capt. Brown said quickly. “And I assure you it's satisfactory, only one small problem I'm afraid we don't have the papers drawn up just yet.”

   Mr. Radio was shocked, “You've had a week!”

     “Mr. Radio, Have you noticed the screams?” Capt. Brown said “The panic in the streets? The giant copper robots terrorizing the city?”

  “No.”

    “Good. That means we–” He gestured to Dr. Smith and himself–“Have been doing our jobs. There was an outbreak of giant robots, which we stopped. I'm sure you'll hear all about it on the evening broadcast. The point is, it has taken us a week, and in that week we have not had time to deal with silly legal documents. But If you'll excuse me, I'll go and call a lawyer friend of mine, and we'll do this right now.” 

  There's no need for that.” Mr. Radio said quickly, “I've brought two of the best lawyers in the city.”

    Capt. Brown flashed a million-dollar smile, “Which is exactly why I need to call my own lawyer.”

Capt. Brown left the table, and dialed a phone in the corner. Soon, the doorbell rang.

ding dong

“Answer that, will you Jeeves?” Capt. Brown asked.

-=fig. 615: mr. slant=-

A Zombie stood on the doorstep. 

 “Let ’im in, Jeeves.” Capt. Brown said.
 The Zombie lurched over the threshold. “BRAAAAIIINSSS…” It rattled, then stopped. “Heh…Heh…Heh. Just my little…joke.” Said Mr Slant Esq., Zombie.
 “But…But BUT!” Repeated Mr. Radio. “That's a Zombie!”
   “Yes.” Capt. Brown nodded, “And for over three-hundred years he's been the best Practicing Lawyer in the city. Mr. Slant, It's a pleasure.”
    “Likewise…Mr. Brown.”
      “Slant, The Reason I called you here is because–” He explained what was going on.
         “I…See. And you have decided on a Price?”
            “Yep.”
                 “No!”
                    “I see.” Mr. Slant addressed Mr. Radio's Legal Heavies, “Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris!”
  The Legal Heavies, of course replied with “quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem”
  “That sounds like legal-speak to me.” Said Capt. Brown. “How Long do you think this is going to take, Slant?”
   “I …Can't say.  They are stubborn.”
Capt. Brown Shrugged, he had expected something like this. “Will You be needing Mr. Radio here?”
     “No. His Lawyers have a good, solid grasp of his…*wheeze*…greedy objectives.”
       “Good. Zachary, Let's show Mr. Radio how TaVee Works.”

           -=-

-=fig. 616: keep cranking=-

“As long as you keep the crank going,” Dr. Smith said, “The film'll keep going past the mosaic, now the mosaic turns each frame, which is like a little picture, into thousands of little tiny bits, which are fed out this antennae to the computer terminal. You got all that?”  Mr. Radio had been scribbling madly in his book, trying to keep up with Dr. Smith. “Sure…What happens once it gets to the computer terminal?”

-=fig. 617: computer bank=-

“Almost everything. If you are using a large computer bank, as I am, you can choose to save the incoming data as a Digital File which you can then edit, or you can choose to just export the un-edited LIVE footage to a connected radio antennae. You can also, with this bit of free software,” He handed Mr. Radio a floppy disk “Switch between cameras, assuming of course you're using a multi-camera set-up.”
  “What about sound?”
      “You can use any mics you already have, I'm using a standard Boom Mic, It records onto a Record, which you then import into your computer terminal using the standard 33&⅓ Phonograph Record Drive.”
   “It all seems so…straight-forward.”  Mr. Radio was lost. But he had copied everything down, so maybe someone at the office could translate it.
      “It basically is. But all I've done is invent the technology, It's up to you to make a TaVee show worth watching.”
         “I assume all this extra, yet necessary paraphernalia isn't included in the price?”
            “Of course not.”
              “Where'll I be able to get it?”
          Dr. Smith counted off on his fingers, “The Cameras, the film, the mics and the lights; Sears and Roebuck. Or Direct from the manufacturers; Kodak, RCA and General Electrick, Respectively. The Computer banks; Apple Computer Company. Software; Me., at least at first. I'm releasing an API as soon as our deal goes public, so there'll be better solutions pretty quick.”
  “That's it?”
     “That's it.”
Jeeves walked in. “Sir,” He said “The legal deliberations are over.”
“Capital.”

A Few Of My Favourite Things, 1

I Made Coffee

{Gosh, sorry about the tiny video player size,  I suggest watching it On YouTube If you like it, leave a comment!}

PSA InfoGraphic: The Hot Demitasse Trick

I Also made a neat little PSA to go with it:

New Page

Tweet

Hey folks! 

 Do you live in the Alaska area?

   Have you ever wondered how the espresso in your area stacks up  on the SLOG scale? 

 Wonder no longer!

Alternatively, wonder a little longer because I probably haven't gotten around to your coffee place yet. 

   If you are impatient, {Understandable} I'm open to suggestions.

SLO GrInd

I am at a nice little coffee place in San Luis Obispo called "SLO Grind" it has {besides of course the the lovely espresso, that sticks in your throat as proper espresso should, so that you may enjoy your coffee all day}  It Has Comfortable wing back chairs:

And a brilliant idea for returning customers, a shelf where you can leave your cup:

I've never seen this before! I brought my own cup with me this time, {it's the White one with green stripes in the first picture, thrift store: 4.00$}but I'm not going to leave it here.

Mainly because I probably won't be returning to S.L.O.  Anytime soon

I Need to get a wing-back chair.

-=Best Regards=-

•

#STOP Telegram ended. Posted from my iPhone.
re-edited from my Macbook pro
 Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

Location:Los Osos Valley Rd,San Luis Obispo,United States

New Wallpaper: Double Espresso…

Please?

LEGO® is a registered trademark of LEGO®

Becoming a genius at a young age was always a problem for Dr. Smith.  The Baristas always looked askew at him for asking for such hard coffee before he can look over the counter properly.  That… And for giving exact change before the Cash Machine finished warming up.

Because, As we all know, Genius and Espresso go hand in hand.

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

Starbucks espresso

Ahhh, starbucks. Not as good as some of the local... I want to say "breweries" but I doubt that is right. Still good though, in a pinch. Also! I do beleive this is the debut of my "daily grind" logo, I plan on prefacing all of my future "on the spot coffee posts" with that logo.
__________________
-=POSTSCRIPT:=-



What's the spoon for? Milk or sugar in espresso is incorrect, but maybe I'm just a purist.


-=Best Regards=-

•

#STOP Telegram ended. Posted from my iPhone.

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

umbrella

In Addition to my new pocket-watch, I have also aquired this umbrella

from, of all places, "Target"

Would you Believe?  I have looked far and wide, in thrift stores everywhere, nothing.  And then one day, I go to target, and there it is. Waiting for me.

It is a black umbrella with wood handle, and wood shaft. I would have preferred a Metalshaft, but hey, you take what you can get.

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

-=Coffee!=-

Another day, another sponsor!

now, Coffee does not Directly finance our operations here, but without it I would still be asleep, and we would not be here on the elektric ætherwebs, so to Celebrate that fact, I have made, not 1, not 2, but 3 new posters for coffee!

•

•

•

•

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.