Starting Up

I am really happy to be back in the swimming pool. My ear is still a little more sensitive than the other (I can feel it zing a little bit when the water flows past it as I push off the wall), but I am definitley on the comeback trail.

It's tough, though. I feel slow and weak and clumsy, and am struggling to reestablish my telepathic connection to the pace clock. My predictions are inaccurate, and I'm slowing down far too much during long sets. Trying to re-condition myself is hard on the body, but probably even harder on my self-esteem.

Oh well. It's not unexpected. There's a reason we try to stay consistent with our exercise. As Neil Young once said, "Rust never sleeps."

And speaking of the oxidation of iron, I noticed the other day that I need new guitar strings. I'm sure that people like Jimmy Page and Mr. Bachman, Mr. Turner, and Mr. Overdrive all become aware of string deterioration by noticing subtle changes in the timbre of the string's sound, or by noticing a slight difference in the pressure it takes to bend up a full step. But my senses are not so highly developed. I probably couldn't tell the difference in sound between a 1957 Gibson Archtop with new strings and a $12 Sear Silvertone strung with spaghetti. For me, the "buy new wire" notification comes from splinters.

Yes, splinters. When guitar strings get worn out, tiny slivers of steel can flake off the strings and embed themselves in your fingers. I don't see them, but the "ouch factor" tells me it's time to make a trek to Music-Go-Round.

Anyway, as I was thinking about starting back up in the pool after my long layoff, I started thinking about other things that show resistance to smooth starting after a sedentary period. And that got me thinking about the way engines used to start.

My Subaru starts within about a half second of me turning the ignition key. Doesn't matter how cold it is outside, or how long the car has been sitting there. We expect this now; but cars didn't always do that. The old Bel Aire station wagon I drove in college would sometimes require several minutes of cranking before it would fire itself up. And back in my "motorcycle-ridin', hippie-stompin'" days, I got many a calf cramp from stomping on my Kawasaki's kickstarter. Before that, my startup injuries came in the form of scraped knuckles from yanking on the stupid rope that would get the lawn-mower's engine spinning.

Perhaps that explains why I hate mowing lawns to this day. There are definitely advantages to the condo lifestyle.

How many years has it been since it took me more than a microsecond to start an engine? The last two lawn mowers I owned were both electric, and started up when you threw the switch...no questions asked. The last car I had that didn't start up right away was a 1986 Ford Bronco -- but that was because it was a poorly-built piece of crap, with far more problems than a mere faulty ignition system. And that pile of junk was still 50 times more reliable than the Cadillac we had parked in the garage beside it. I'm sure the American car companies have improved their products since then, but I still have nightmares about those mechanical abominations.

Anyway, my question for you is this: Do kids today have any idea how much effort it took to mow the lawn just a few decades ago? Do kids today aspire to have their own lawns when they grow up? Do kids today know the difference between a lawn mower and a Lon Chaney?

I'm just curious. And speaking of things kids probably don't know about, what is the common thread among these dudes? (Extra credit if you can identify the applauding gent in the corner of frame 4.)



That's all for today. I'll leave you one more hint by sharing the video below. Extra credit if you can identify the Star Trek connection. Anyway, it's an amusing bit, so enjoy it if you have time. Have a great day!