Project 8-Track Success!

 

So I spent a lot of time trying to get the correct components to get my "brand-new-in-box" 1981 Pioneer 8-Track player installed in my 2012 Grand Sport 100th Anniversary Corvette.  Since the radio was separate and had left and right speakers "out" I needed to convert that to a 1/8th inch stereo-out (headphone jack) size for my Auxiliary-In of my head-unit so as to not have to splice wires behind, etc.  Using a Hi-Lo "Stinger" converter I was able to connect and ground the wires properly into RCA-Out jacks, then RCA-to-1/8th Stereo jack, then into the Aux-Port in my arm-rest.

Wanna buy an 8-Track tape? Our selection is extensive.

  I wasn't sure how to mount it, but it felt quite good just against the center hump vertically-installed, 8-Track-cassette-input on top to "slam down" into it as was prevalent in the 1970's.  Affixing it to the carpet side bolster via Velcro as it stayed by itself sitting there without any concern unfastened and loose even during my wildest turns, Velcro, I concluded, would be a satisfactory temporary solution.

The immortal Bootsy Collins of Parliament.  Never before or again will funk be so.. funky.  Brilliant.

  Grounded all the necessary wires to avoid car-induced AM-frequency "whine", everything checked-out.  Slapped-in "Star Wars" soundtrack and.. nothing.  Hm.

 
Verified good ground to the unit again using my new analog multi-meter but there was no power getting to the in-line fuse of the deck for some reason.  Was using my knife "Black Out", prying the fuse cover open when.. slllliiiip!  Black-Out almost blacked me out and gouged my left index finger up high to the bone where it stopped short.  Rather unpleasant feeling and I made a new profanity word.  It is, "Benghazi".  Ahem.  (Oh, come on.  How could I not put a political slant in here somewhere, eh?).  Blood oozed from the wound pretty darkly and impressively and I wrapped it with a paper towel indoors and rinsed it.  My house water has a small percentage of salt from the water softener and it was noticeably stingy.  Becky applied a Band-Aid which soaked through pretty readily and she recommended I be euthanized (just kidding).  She was sweet about the application and asked, "Well, there's your required blood-sacrifice!  Is it working now?"  I admitted not quite yet and handed her the inline fuse as I could not see the 2-Amp wire inside.  She indicated it was intact and I went back to checking all the wires.  The fuse-tap I had added had two fuse slots, I tried the second one and I saw some illumination but no sound.  Okay...

  Took out Star Wars and put in Rush's A Farewell to Kings.  Very quiet.  I jiggled the cassette a bit and voila! 

 

When they turn the pages of history, when these days have passed long ago,
Will they read of us with sadness for the seeds that we let grow?
We turned our gaze from the castles in the distance.
Eyes cast down on the path of least resistance.

  Ha!  It worked!  Just have to "jiggle the handle" as it were.  Pressed the Track button and different songs immediately played, hence the glory of 8-Track.  Still, there were times when it would suddenly slow down, then speed up.

Tim O'Connor as Dr.Huer caught on-film checking out Pamela Hensley's fun-box as Princess Ardala on the TV series Buck Rogers

  Audio quality was far better than my expectations.  I knew it would be about CD-quality due to the speed the 8-Track would play at and the amount of tape it flies through quickly, similar to a VCR tape in the SP mode for best quality.  I'd say it was marginally better than CD quality due to its analog sound and indeed better than a cassette.  I was quite surprised and impressed.



Erin Gray as Col.Deering in Buck Rogers

  Put in Jethro Tull's Greatest Hits and it played Teacher for me with some slurring and Skating Away on the Thin Ice of a New Day.  Still, there's an inconsistency in the speed itself.  Jiggling the tape fixes that and pulling it out a bit.  Tried Star Wars again and it just ate the tape outright.  Boo.  Fast Forwarding worked pretty well (a rather late-in-the-life of 8-Tracks feature) as well as the "Repeat" option where it plays Track 1 of 4 (or whichever one you're on) over again, not skipping automatically to Track 2 once over.



Wonder Woman played by Lynda Carter affected more young boys than ever before in the 1970's where we discovered boobs were a good thing.

  Tracks are lain unevenly throughout for timing matters so there's not a lot of dead space.  There's actually 4 "Stereo" tracks on the tape, and the head moves up or down to each stereo track.  Actually, all "8" tracks are playing continuously in a loop, switching tracks just moves the head down to the next.  While you're listening to the first song, the next one is playing underneath it and can be selected at-will.  Problem is, if you are bored halfway through song 1, if you switch to song 2, yep, you guessed it, will play halfway through as well, starting off the same number of minutes-in you swapped.  Weird but kinda cool.

That's right:  F'n Soul Train.

   The 8-Track was fickle and would speed-up or slow down causing some weirdness like rubbing one's fingers on a turntable to slow down a record a bit, then suddenly surge forward.  If the tape was slapped-down flush (actually about an inch protrudes as is standard) it is too much force on the wheels and it will stop.  Star Wars broke the tape.

  Becky indicated as she remembered this that the issues I was having was very standard for 8-Tracks back in the '70s and that it was nothing new and why despite outstanding fidelity the mechanics were unsound, and yep, they'd have to "jiggle" the tape and pull it out a bit to get them to work no matter what.  Huh.

                                                                                               

  So...

  I uninstall the Pioneer 8-Track rather easily, but not before listening to the last song of Rush's "A Farewell To Kings" spaceship into a black-hole song, Cygnus X-1:

Spinning, whirling, still descending like a spiral sea, unending!

 

  Indeed, this song defines the 8-Track's mechanism, as it's in an infinite loop, a single, spinning swath of tape in a center axle, yanked-outward from the center oddly, then up and over the entire spool of tape, back down and twisted and over the head, and then back to the outside spool.  Perfect song for this.  Perfect.

 

  The journey of the installation was not a loss.  It had me learn a lot about knives, fuses, inputs, grounds, multi-meters, and 8-Tracks, and.. dare I add, a little bit about myself .. too?

 

RIP dear friend.  To sleep, perchance to dream?

 

Out.






PS.  I kept the 8-Track, A Farewell To Kings, and it will stay always in my glove box.  A farewell to 8-Tracks.  Your simplicity yielding complexity met your far-too-early demise, dear friend.

Happy Racism Day!

 

  There's been a buzz of what's perceived as racism lately, with dire results.  Lately, it's become so vile to have an opinion of a group of people that you're severely punished for it if spoken aloud.  This smacks pretty much of George Orwell's 1984, and Queensryche's, Operation Mindcrime.  It's that bad.  I'd say it's certainly very unsavory to have a hatred built upon a pre-bias of someone, sure.  One could hate Antarcticans with a fervor and say so publicly, but it's probably not very nice.  If you do nothing except just talk about it, well... I believe that falls under Amendment I of the Constitution.  Now, being a prior military member, if you're say, in-uniform, you cannot say you hate Heinz Ketchup publicly, because you're representing the military in that fashion, and therefore saying all military hate Heinz Ketchup.

  In the case of Don Sterling, his comment about the ebony persuasion is not a crime, though I'd have to agree it's a bit vulgar, but in this case, he was representing the NBA as a private organization.  The NBA itself does not feel the same way, and his comments were while wearing an "NBA Club" "hat" as it were.  The "club" kicked him out.

  If I was in the "He-Man Woman-Haters Club" from the 1920's-1930's, Our Gang aka The Little Rascals oath was, "...Do solemnly swear to be a he-man and hate women and not play with them or talk to them unless I have to. And especially: never fall in love, and if I do may I die slowly and painfully and suffer for hours - or until I scream bloody murder. " in which children swore-off girls in their boys-only tree-house club because girls are icky, and I said, "I likes me some girls."  Well then!  I'd be ousted for having a positive opinion about girls, understandably.  On a side-note, you can legally join this club for 1 year, no questions asked, when divorced as a male, and most do and get the card, club pin, and other accouterments, such as the secret decoder amulet, the ray gun, the half-cape, the boom-boom stick, and the moustache-kit (some assembly required).

Rip Taylor thinks it's all CRRRAAAAZY!

  So there you have it.  I guess it's silly but club rules are club rules, though it's getting a bit out-of-hand as of late on both fronts.

What's that white goo in her hands anyway?  hmmmm?

Laurence Fishburne

  Samuel Jackson was recently misidentified as Laurence Fishburne in an interview on a news channel recently. Sammy got rather upset and did not give an inch and made an ass of the interviewer for a painful 3 or 4 minutes, but that's typical of him.  Just kept grinding at the issue despite several apologies.  He now wears an "I'm not Laurence Fishburne" shirt for publicity.  It'd have been okay if he humbly pointed out that he was someone else, but no.  He acted like a baboon about it, so now he made himself look bad instead.  Mr.Fishburne has spoken humbly that it was an amusing bit of Sam being an *sshole, and often now signs documents, Samuel Jackson in good sport.  Sammy just keeps making a bigger and bigger deal about this, though I could see William Shatner doing the same.  Incidentally, if you see Sammy Jackson around, call him Laurence as much as possible, and tell him he was horrible in Robocop the remake.  I don't jive with his humor or delivery and I find him one-dimensional.  He should have been complimented with being mistaken as Fishburne, who's actually a far more versatile and brilliant actor by miles.  Just sayin', and Laurence wouldn't have acted like a donkey's blah-blah.

Samuel Jackson

  It seems minorities look for any opportunity to condemn to the 12th Level of Hell anyone who's against them.  Gay/Lesbians, Feminists, Ebonies, are the most to blame lately.  (Luckily, midgets are quiet for now..)  I believe in true equality, but people are still allowed an opinion, even if it is a distaste or even an irrational hatred if on a personal level not represented by a business or workplace environment.  I'm not for it though, and I've seen a lot of misanthropy on various levels, prejudices and "boys clubs" with seemingly secret-handshakes and nods.  In the business world, I've seen prior officers with absolute zero talent get into positions of power and prestige and flop about uselessly because they're "one of the boys" with invalidated talent from time to time.  I'm not a fan of, "It's who you know", though everywhere I've proven myself by talent and skill and good character, I may never be one of these elitist Illuminati-wannabe's.  Well, that's fine with me.  On that topic, someday, I might be chosen over someone else because I was known from before, but I have no doubt I'd also be chosen for my dedication to work and the passion I put in what I do, something most people lack.  I know folks from my own past, but there's a good majority I wouldn't hire if given the chance because I know their work ethic on a personal level.  I wouldn't let a grouping affect my choice or even sway it though, even subliminally.  That would be illegal on many levels and without merit.  Personally, I don't like Antarcticans, but if one applied to a job I was hiring, and their resume fit the bill, by gosh golly I'd hire that guy!  Yep!  I'm cognizant of that.

  A leader I knew once said during a feedback to me, "Always hire your friends."  I disagreed with him, I said, "Hire the best, get new friends."  He didn't care for my response.  Ah well.  Shrug.

I'm your boss!  Do what I tell you!

Out.
 

Hooray for Captain Spaulding

 

  Got all the things I needed for my 8-track install now, including a hi/lo RCA ohms converter and I think a flux capacitor is in the mix somewhere, and my very first multi-meter!  I chose analog for it's inefficiency and nostalgia.  The 8-track player goes into my technologically advanced Corvette Grand Sport 2012 AUX-Port for irony and low-tech cool factor.  Found one unused on eBay.  Gotta love eBay.

                                                            

  My CBR600RR/A "Black Tiger" is enjoying the weather, and I was able to start a finicky Ninja 250R I have lurking in the garage, though I didn't take her out.

2009 Honda CBR600RR/A (ABS) "Black Tiger"  Meow.

  I went to Bass Pro Shops in quest for a good knife.  I've never owned a decent one, just a few Chinese pig-steel models like "Fury II" made of crappy aluminum, too soft for actual work-work.  Got a Kershaw BlackOut that's "spring assisted" meaning once you start to open the folded blade, it snaps-to rather quickly, somewhat like a switch-blade, though it's a folded knife, not one that's embedded in the handle and ejects upward.  Black Out will merely require a light touch, pushing on the thumb-nodule about 1/3rd the way, the knife will finish the last 2/3rds of opening, SNIKT! rather snappily.  After reading about it now, I actually made a wise purchase.  I went in cold, not knowing of knives too much, except I wanted one from Ah'Murica and was considering a Spyderco brand (has a little spider on it) but a lot of those come from China now (didn't used to) and, well f*** that!  I strongly considered a honing (sharpening) stone as well, but I'm not a Master Honer (there's actually professions of this, and legendary masters of it for swords and what-not) so I explained to the worker there that I'd probably do more damage than actually sharpen it, which he agreed.  Still, in town there's plenty of decent artisans who are at least Professional Honers, and that'll do the trick when-needed.  Not a fan of a serrated inside portion as they just make a mess, really, and sharpening requires, again, a Master Honer Samurai-dude or something like that with the finishing touches requiring a little powder-ball  (hazuyia).  Nope.  I'm not ready for that yet.  Nope.

Kershaw Made in USA "Black Out" spring-assisted knife.

The "strawberry" here is my final paper.  Yep.

  Finished my two classes in college, one was Astronomy and rather difficult calculating distances of galaxies based on Cepheid Variable stars.  The final exam was cumulative and brutal, the textbook over 1000 pages (we did it all in 8 weeks, 150 pages a week).  Still, I got an "A" in the class, somehow.  When I mention that I got an A in both the beginner writing class and Astronomy, everyone says, "Of course you did."  Sigh.  Am I that predictable?  Virgos aren't that bad, are we?  The teacher in the writing class said she wanted to save my paper for "dessert" but that I had submitted it 5 days early she had no choice but to read it.  Got a 100% on it, again, somehow, but I'm beyond flattered I have a reader who appreciates it.  I had to do it on left-right brain hemispheres and learning through music.  For my Bachelor's in Science, 2 down, 20 to go, though I'm loathe to finish it early as I'm getting a Post-9/11 Bill stipend due to my 15 years military service of about $700 a month to do it, tax-free.  Might take me .. two years to finish it.  I only get this because I didn't use my rather shitty Montgomery GI Bill promised to every military member in the '80s and '90s.  Thought it was a waste.  Turns out my nose-upturning was a good idea.  Thanks for the Snowcone, Snoopy! (note* the "Punch Flavor" tasted like pink hot plastic death, ah the '70s).

  Went to a small chain called Bourbon Brothers for lunch.  The menu had some 200 bourbons available but I was angry the "Old Fashioned" on the menu had no soda water and the cherry was muddled (personal preference not to have it muddled).  I mentioned this to the bartendress Stephanie and she quickly snapped-to and indicated the proper method I described would be no problem at all and that soothed my deepening rage to a small ember again, and back into that Irish "Well of Hatred" that can be drawn forth at any moment like Robert De Niro at the end of Taxi Driver (1976).  (Worth a watch btw).  Overwhelmed by the selections, I asked for a recommendation. 



Note*  This menu was difficult to obtain and had to convert from XPS to Jpeg, then fit it in.  They actually have a "limited time only" section of about 20 more bourbons.

Decidedly NOT "Stephanie" the bartender.

  She asked what I liked and I mentioned Macallan 18, 1987 or Macallan 30 perhaps, so she nodded and recommended Eagle Rare which I asked for "neat, please".  She briefly looked up, "That's the only way I would serve it, sir."  Well done, miss.  Well done.  Flavor smacked complexly of honey, vanilla, toffee, orange, and, as always with bourbon, wood.  Smooth to drizzle I approved.  Had the St.Louis ribs.  Sweet and barely any smoke flavor, if at all like smoke from a cigarette blown over it.  Still, impressive.  Honey-soaked cornbread in its own pan was almost flan-like, though carb-insane I had a tiny nibble only.  Sautéed vegetables were uninteresting and uneventful but acceptable.  The restaurant is good.  Didn't ask for more, one's enough for lunch.  I asked what besides Maker's Mark would she recommend for an Old Fashioned to which she needed to think.  I gave her time and she recommended 4 Roses Limited Reserve as it balances the orange and cherry.  I agreed, such that it wouldn't taste like kindergarten which she laughed and heartily agreed.  I'll be back.

  That's it.  Boring post.  All you get for now until tomorrow.

Out.