OP
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Thank you Albert! It was truly a blessed night.
I like this time at night on HBT
- Thread starter Dan
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Was just looking at pics again. So nice. You really should be proud to have helped make those memories for your daughter. I might have said it before here, but there's nothing more intrinsically meaningful, important in every sense, as raising our children well.
Anyhoo, for your late night soundrack, Erik Satie. Wonderful sound this is for sitting by a fire, drinking homemade red wine, thinking about the kids. Wife is out with a friend tonight and it's just me and the dog and cat and dark house. Time to get the TV on. Clemson by 10 suckas.
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-Xm7s9eGxU[/ame]
CGVT
Senior Member
Hey, Late Nighters!
My daughter wrote another song. Let me know what you think. (no offense will be taken at honest critiques)
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwfWFQftIF4[/ame]
My daughter wrote another song. Let me know what you think. (no offense will be taken at honest critiques)
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwfWFQftIF4[/ame]
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I'm not a music critic nor do I play one on tv [emoji3]
CGVT, I liked your daughter's song. Sounds to me like creativity mixed with happiness, a little quirky and most probably a true reflection of your little girl at this time of her life. Karen Carpenter she reminds me of a bit. To mimic another's person's song well takes talent but that isn't what your daughter has done. Not mimicked.
I think your daughter's music is unique and her own. Creativity on a personal level is unique. It's precious. Your daughter has shown that in her music! If only one critique I give - Beautiful
Truly
Dan
CGVT
Senior Member
Thanks, Dan.
Being a father, of course I think she is special and think she has a knack for turning a phrase. She wants to be a writer someday. I tell her she already is...
She does a blog, too.
https://emphasisonthetaco.wordpress.com/
Here is one of her entries:
*In relation to ballet, Broadway, and life
When I was ten years old, my mom and my grandma took me to New York City for my birthday. We spent the whole weekend there, and it was the best weekend of my life – I got my first taste of a real city, and I was absolutely enchanted. But between our trip to the top of the Empire State Building and our tour of the Met, we saw a Broadway show, Mary Poppins, and my life was changed forever.
I’m not kidding. I can remember with perfect clarity the feeling that I got, sitting in the theatre as the lights dimmed, the hopeful anticipation that turned into absolute joy as the music began. I can remember the wonder as Mary Poppins flew across the audience and Bert tap-danced up a wall. I’d never been so excited in my life. I feel like those emotions – the excitement and wonder and joy and hope – were all shoved together into one big feeling, and this feeling is one I’ve been striving to find for my whole life since then. Something latched onto my heart, some sort of inspiration, pushing me to find something – and if I couldn’t find it, create something – that would give me those feelings again.
This summer, my mom and I took a trip to New York City again. This time, our purpose was to see Hamilton, but I’m actually not going to talk about Hamilton right now (for once).
We’d bought tickets to An American in Paris just a few days before leaving for our trip. Third row tickets were available for the evening on the day we were flying in, and, compared to other shows, relatively inexpensive, so we decided it would be a mistake to pass up the chance to see another show. I was expecting to like it, of course. I’d been to Broadway shows, and I knew how incredible they were. I was looking forward to it – though, of course, not as much as I was looking forward to Hamilton later in the week. An American in Paris was just an added bonus, thrown in at the last minute.
I had no idea how much I was going to love the show. From the first notes of Gershwin’s Concerto in F, the opening for the show, I was breathless. I was filled with adrenaline; I was so close to the stage, I felt like I was a part of what was happening. I cried during the sad scenes, and then I cried again during the not-sad scenes because I didn’t know how else to react to loving something so much.
There were a lot of things poised to make this the perfect show for me. The dancing was exquisite and central to the story, and I’ve taken dance my whole life. The music was composed by Gershwin, who I’ve appreciated since my days in middle school band. I easily fell in love with the main characters – each was an artist, and the questions they posed about art and its purpose created an important, if somewhat cliche, portrayal of art as something that should be used to share joy and and excitement and wonder and hope.
But bigger than all of that was the way it made me feel. That feeling that had latched onto my heart when I’d seen Mary Poppins when I was ten years old, the one I’d been subconsciously always searching for, was back.
In my ballet class a week or so ago, my teacher, Bobby, was giving us one of his signature ballet lessons/life advice, and he said something that triggered this train of thought: “A feeling is better than a memory.” In the ballet context, he meant that once you execute a perfect pirouette, or a perfect fouette turn, or whatever else, you probably won’t remember exactly what you did to make it happen – but you’ll remember what it felt like. And from then on, you’re just working towards that feeling again.
I don’t remember the details of the Mary Poppins show that I saw when I was turning ten. Heck, I don’t even remember a lot of the details of An American in Paris. But I remember the feeling. And even other, simpler memories – the day I sat with my friends on front lawn doing absolutely nothing, the nights spent watching The Office with Marie until two in the morning, the times going to see Bella in her plays – these memories are made special not by what happened, but how they felt.
I carry a journal with me pretty much everywhere I go. For a long time, I filled my journal with factual, accurate descriptions of things that happened, places I went, just daily events that I felt were notable. But in looking back at my old entries, I realized that I wasn’t talking about the important things. I was keeping track of my memories, not my feelings.
Now, I’m trying to shift my writing. I don’t necessarily need to write down every little thing that happens to me; in the long run, I’m not really going to care about that. Like Bobby said, a feeling is better than a memory. The more I think about it, the more I see how my life has always, on some level, consisted of me searching for that feeling again.
Sometimes the feeling is stronger, more concentrated than at other times. Mary Poppins and An American and Paris stick out as being moments where there was little more in the world than that feeling, latching onto my heart. It was fairly strong on that perfectly simple day, sitting on front lawn in the sunshine with my friends; stronger than it is, say, when I’m alone in the car, singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs, or when I’m writing.
I don’t think I’m ever going to stop searching for it. Fundamentally, my ten-year-old self and I are the same: we are both looking for excitement and wonder and joy and hope. Sometimes the feeling eludes me for months; there are times when it never seems to go away. But whether I find it on a day spent in the sunshine with good friends or in a darkened theater, I know that it stays with me more than any memory ever could.
Being a father, of course I think she is special and think she has a knack for turning a phrase. She wants to be a writer someday. I tell her she already is...
She does a blog, too.
https://emphasisonthetaco.wordpress.com/
Here is one of her entries:
*In relation to ballet, Broadway, and life
When I was ten years old, my mom and my grandma took me to New York City for my birthday. We spent the whole weekend there, and it was the best weekend of my life – I got my first taste of a real city, and I was absolutely enchanted. But between our trip to the top of the Empire State Building and our tour of the Met, we saw a Broadway show, Mary Poppins, and my life was changed forever.
I’m not kidding. I can remember with perfect clarity the feeling that I got, sitting in the theatre as the lights dimmed, the hopeful anticipation that turned into absolute joy as the music began. I can remember the wonder as Mary Poppins flew across the audience and Bert tap-danced up a wall. I’d never been so excited in my life. I feel like those emotions – the excitement and wonder and joy and hope – were all shoved together into one big feeling, and this feeling is one I’ve been striving to find for my whole life since then. Something latched onto my heart, some sort of inspiration, pushing me to find something – and if I couldn’t find it, create something – that would give me those feelings again.
This summer, my mom and I took a trip to New York City again. This time, our purpose was to see Hamilton, but I’m actually not going to talk about Hamilton right now (for once).
We’d bought tickets to An American in Paris just a few days before leaving for our trip. Third row tickets were available for the evening on the day we were flying in, and, compared to other shows, relatively inexpensive, so we decided it would be a mistake to pass up the chance to see another show. I was expecting to like it, of course. I’d been to Broadway shows, and I knew how incredible they were. I was looking forward to it – though, of course, not as much as I was looking forward to Hamilton later in the week. An American in Paris was just an added bonus, thrown in at the last minute.
I had no idea how much I was going to love the show. From the first notes of Gershwin’s Concerto in F, the opening for the show, I was breathless. I was filled with adrenaline; I was so close to the stage, I felt like I was a part of what was happening. I cried during the sad scenes, and then I cried again during the not-sad scenes because I didn’t know how else to react to loving something so much.
There were a lot of things poised to make this the perfect show for me. The dancing was exquisite and central to the story, and I’ve taken dance my whole life. The music was composed by Gershwin, who I’ve appreciated since my days in middle school band. I easily fell in love with the main characters – each was an artist, and the questions they posed about art and its purpose created an important, if somewhat cliche, portrayal of art as something that should be used to share joy and and excitement and wonder and hope.
But bigger than all of that was the way it made me feel. That feeling that had latched onto my heart when I’d seen Mary Poppins when I was ten years old, the one I’d been subconsciously always searching for, was back.
In my ballet class a week or so ago, my teacher, Bobby, was giving us one of his signature ballet lessons/life advice, and he said something that triggered this train of thought: “A feeling is better than a memory.” In the ballet context, he meant that once you execute a perfect pirouette, or a perfect fouette turn, or whatever else, you probably won’t remember exactly what you did to make it happen – but you’ll remember what it felt like. And from then on, you’re just working towards that feeling again.
I don’t remember the details of the Mary Poppins show that I saw when I was turning ten. Heck, I don’t even remember a lot of the details of An American in Paris. But I remember the feeling. And even other, simpler memories – the day I sat with my friends on front lawn doing absolutely nothing, the nights spent watching The Office with Marie until two in the morning, the times going to see Bella in her plays – these memories are made special not by what happened, but how they felt.
I carry a journal with me pretty much everywhere I go. For a long time, I filled my journal with factual, accurate descriptions of things that happened, places I went, just daily events that I felt were notable. But in looking back at my old entries, I realized that I wasn’t talking about the important things. I was keeping track of my memories, not my feelings.
Now, I’m trying to shift my writing. I don’t necessarily need to write down every little thing that happens to me; in the long run, I’m not really going to care about that. Like Bobby said, a feeling is better than a memory. The more I think about it, the more I see how my life has always, on some level, consisted of me searching for that feeling again.
Sometimes the feeling is stronger, more concentrated than at other times. Mary Poppins and An American and Paris stick out as being moments where there was little more in the world than that feeling, latching onto my heart. It was fairly strong on that perfectly simple day, sitting on front lawn in the sunshine with my friends; stronger than it is, say, when I’m alone in the car, singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs, or when I’m writing.
I don’t think I’m ever going to stop searching for it. Fundamentally, my ten-year-old self and I are the same: we are both looking for excitement and wonder and joy and hope. Sometimes the feeling eludes me for months; there are times when it never seems to go away. But whether I find it on a day spent in the sunshine with good friends or in a darkened theater, I know that it stays with me more than any memory ever could.
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CGVT, your daughter is quite an excellent writer! People who paint images and feelings like she does are amazing. I believe she has been given a wonderful gift and truly hope she continues a lifetime of sharing her words, thoughts., stories. She's very good at it.
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I don't know if this link works
Sent from my iPhone
Sent from my iPhone
OP
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I was perusing through some old Navy Cruise Books. Cruise books are like Yearbooks from a graduating class. But it's slightly different and still the same. Memories made. Whether you're14-18 years old or a lot older during relatively shorter period of time. History happens and it's pretty cool to look back once in a while.
This rambling was triggered by a conversation with my youngest daughter earlier today. Megs, she's 22 now. She showed me a pic of a bomber style jacket called Members Only. Holy cow! That's from the eighties when I was her age. Apparently styles and even names return.
Got me to thinking about those young days. I had s real to life Navy green flight jacket at her age. Sewed in with a few squadron logos. If you've ever been around Navy aviation or seen the movie TopGun. You'll know us navy aviation folks love flight jackets. Pilots are the most notorious but us enlisted guys liked to decorate ours as well. Funky thing was the jetjock pilots could wear them as uniform. Pilots in the navy get a lot of leeway. I can't really blame the navy for that. Some truly smart, athletically swift humble and egotistical sometimes as well fly, oops Aviate some of the worlds most awesome jet airplanes. So they get some breaks. It's how the world works
Anyway. 25 years after my contraband flight jacket got stolen I do have a plain mother one. Got it at my last squadron 1o or so years ago. Today I just gone done searching the net for my old squadron logos. Found five of them. Bought the patches. Going to have them sewn on my flight jacket. Maybe some more stuff.
I have no need a jacket here in Hawaii-the one I have is winter grade. Not going to stop me from adorning it.
Last week I wore my Dress Blues for Kimberly and John wedding. It felt so damn good!! It felt so good to be in uniform again
This rambling was triggered by a conversation with my youngest daughter earlier today. Megs, she's 22 now. She showed me a pic of a bomber style jacket called Members Only. Holy cow! That's from the eighties when I was her age. Apparently styles and even names return.
Got me to thinking about those young days. I had s real to life Navy green flight jacket at her age. Sewed in with a few squadron logos. If you've ever been around Navy aviation or seen the movie TopGun. You'll know us navy aviation folks love flight jackets. Pilots are the most notorious but us enlisted guys liked to decorate ours as well. Funky thing was the jetjock pilots could wear them as uniform. Pilots in the navy get a lot of leeway. I can't really blame the navy for that. Some truly smart, athletically swift humble and egotistical sometimes as well fly, oops Aviate some of the worlds most awesome jet airplanes. So they get some breaks. It's how the world works
Anyway. 25 years after my contraband flight jacket got stolen I do have a plain mother one. Got it at my last squadron 1o or so years ago. Today I just gone done searching the net for my old squadron logos. Found five of them. Bought the patches. Going to have them sewn on my flight jacket. Maybe some more stuff.
I have no need a jacket here in Hawaii-the one I have is winter grade. Not going to stop me from adorning it.
Last week I wore my Dress Blues for Kimberly and John wedding. It felt so damn good!! It felt so good to be in uniform again
CGVT
Senior Member
Same in the Coast Guard, Dan, but it is anyone on the Aviation side of the coin. We called 'em Hovering Heroes.
I was at CCTI dinner with the CO the base that I worked for and the CO of the Aviation Training Center here in Mobile and we somehow got into a conversation about uniforms. I was messing with the Aviator a bit and made a comment about them always wearing their coveralls. He got a bit snooty and said "Those are flight suits, Master Chief". I laughed and asked him what his guys were flying when they were pumping gas into their cars on the way to work. He didn't find it very funny, my CO cracked up.
There doesn't seem to be a section on this forum to create a sort of a diary thread of all my brews and projects under a single topic is there.
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Yea, do what Dan said. Just start a thread and start posting your stuff there. Don't worry if you're talking to yourself a lot there. It'll just be your blog and you can make it as long as you want.
We used to have club sections here, and we might have had a blog thing too, but they weren't used much and site developer just removed them.
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My last squadron in the navy was the FA-18E/F training squadron. It's where pilots who already were Navy trained and certified pilots learned to fly the Super Hornet. Part of the students syllabus, maybe the most important for a Tail-hook Navy pilot was to land on an aircraft carrier at sea. Carrier landings have been known as controlled crashes. Little over a thousand feet to land stop and shuffle for a parking spot knowing there is a jet right behind them landing within a few minutes.
Hello Late Nighters! Dan, if I didn't say it before, the wedding looked great!! Especially the bar and dress blues. I think I mentioned it before as well, but it looks like we are finally done defending against the nazi (actual Nazi, not an an unintended slur...but I hope it is a slur). I check in to seldom lately not sure what I have shared. Hope everyone is great.
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Any knowledge here on solar hot water heaters? Tech side. I'd like to compare notes and troubleshooting, gain some insight. I maintain them and believe decent at that. Thing is I don't install solar hot water systems. I just try and learn as much as possible by reading their theory of operation and then let my troubleshooting skill decide my mind
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LRB!!
So happy to hear justice prevailed and the actual Nazi lost Very well done Albert!
Thank you, Albert on the wedding day compliments!! Truly!! My daughter and now SIL are meant for each other. The wedding was a grand Walt Disney wedding movie day
BTW- it felt so good to wear the blues again.)
Cheers my brother LRB
DAN
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Ahaha. I see what you did there. I have a troublesome solar/electric water heater I'm trying to repair at my job I was the sixth and now .7th person to address the same issue with this water heater. I'm pretty positive the electrical side is sound. Good volt, resistance amp amp readings on the electrics. Something else going on. The customer gets good hot water for a bath and that's about it. 80 gallon tank.
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Been doing some research on the hot water situation. Possibly it's the dip tube. Which if you look at is as a dip tube sounds like a tube that takes out water. . Apparently not true. It puts earth plumbed house water in. And the tube is not copper, not stainless. PVC I'm hearing.
So cold water in the top of the tank. the tank. Any tank. It fills the bottom.
I suspect the cold Filipino is cracked and leaking into the top of the tank where the hot water is
Can't think of another reasonable
So cold water in the top of the tank. the tank. Any tank. It fills the bottom.
I suspect the cold Filipino is cracked and leaking into the top of the tank where the hot water is
Can't think of another reasonable
CGVT
Senior Member
The dip tubes used to be made of some sort of sacrificial metal. I had one dissolve and do the exact same thing about 20 years ago, Dan
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Incorrect. The anode rod is the sacrificial part.
Dip tubes were made of metal years ago but not for sacrificial reasons. Most dip tubes today are PVC but become brittle and chip away.
The dip tube is intended to deliver new cold water to the bottom of the tank and displace the hot water by pushing it up through the hot out tube/port.
Often times what happens is the dip tube disintegrates to the point that the new cold water is delivered high in the tank tempering the heat and reducing the displacement of hot water supply. The end result is 1/3 to 1/2 of the tanks hot water potential.
CGVT
Senior Member
Eh, whatever. 
The bottom line is that the tube rotted out at the bottom and needed to be replaced.
This^^^
The bottom line is that the tube rotted out at the bottom and needed to be replaced.This^^^
Evening gents. Hope all is well. I see talk of water tanks. I've replaced a couple of my own; besides sweating some copper pipe, I've no knowledge there.
For your late nite soundtrack, Parov Stelar and their high-energy swing music, accompanied by Fred and Ginger. I also like the sentiment in the cartoon below. Man, I wonder if I could sport long tailed tux jacket and white spats like Fred.
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eco4z98nIQY[/ame]
For your late nite soundtrack, Parov Stelar and their high-energy swing music, accompanied by Fred and Ginger. I also like the sentiment in the cartoon below. Man, I wonder if I could sport long tailed tux jacket and white spats like Fred.
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eco4z98nIQY[/ame]
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Love it Pappy. I'm betting you could sport the long tails but you gotta go dancing with your wife. Black and white film it! [emoji3]
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As far as the water heater fix...still not working to my customer's expectation. I called the company that installs the heaters and the guy told me the dip tube theory is wrong for this tank. He suggested a control problem either the controller or temp probes. Another try tomorrow. The hardest part to troubleshoot this basically easy system is lack of specific details on how it works. Everything I read on their website says the solar collector feeds a closed loop heat exchanger, the heat is then transferred to the cool water in the bottom of the tank. To grasp that idea I think of an immersion chiller but instead of cool water flowing through the coils and the heat of the wort transferring to the cool water, it's vice versa. But then again sounds like that's for a glycol loop or something. When I open the ball valve coming down from the roof and into the water heater, its water.
I'm totally lost, well not totally. But am out of my comfort zone, which is good because it makes my dig and learn
I'm a little annoyed at the lack of info I've been able to find. Maybe Trade secrets so it's hard to fix without manufacturers paid assistance?
That's how it was when I first started working on Fa-18A flight control systems in the mid eighties. Had to get a company tech rep involved just to give us the flight control computer memory inspect codes.
Later McDonnel Douglas or-was it Boeing? I forget when MD sold out. Anyway, somewhere in the late 80's an advanced flight control class started up. All the really good info the tech reps guarded; I suspect the navy said give it to us. Wallah! We got it. It's nice working for the US military sometimes[emoji1]
So wow! I've gone off track, rambled.
I'm going to fix this stupid water heater. Next solar water heater that gets replaced I'm dissecting the old one. I want to open it wide up and see how it works. Can't find **** online. Or maybe I haven't looked hard enough.
I'm totally lost, well not totally. But am out of my comfort zone, which is good because it makes my dig and learn
I'm a little annoyed at the lack of info I've been able to find. Maybe Trade secrets so it's hard to fix without manufacturers paid assistance?
That's how it was when I first started working on Fa-18A flight control systems in the mid eighties. Had to get a company tech rep involved just to give us the flight control computer memory inspect codes.
Later McDonnel Douglas or-was it Boeing? I forget when MD sold out. Anyway, somewhere in the late 80's an advanced flight control class started up. All the really good info the tech reps guarded; I suspect the navy said give it to us. Wallah! We got it. It's nice working for the US military sometimes[emoji1]
So wow! I've gone off track, rambled.
I'm going to fix this stupid water heater. Next solar water heater that gets replaced I'm dissecting the old one. I want to open it wide up and see how it works. Can't find **** online. Or maybe I haven't looked hard enough.
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Any skirt steak, flap steak fans here? I love them both. Maybe they're the same thing with different names. Probably not but they are very similar.
I really like these beef cuts because pretty fast to grill and generally turns out tender (I slice fairly thin, 1/8 -1/4".)
Takes in seasoning well. Comes out juicy, flavorful, and succulent. I use these words without hesitation to describe the deliciousness of this meat
I'm nearly afraid to make a big deal of it. Price might sky rocket
I really like these beef cuts because pretty fast to grill and generally turns out tender (I slice fairly thin, 1/8 -1/4".)
Takes in seasoning well. Comes out juicy, flavorful, and succulent. I use these words without hesitation to describe the deliciousness of this meat
I'm nearly afraid to make a big deal of it. Price might sky rocket
OP
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Wow! Did I kill this thread with my rambling?
CGVT
Senior Member
Dan, this thread is rambling. Some of us ramble more than others. I don't ever look at it as dead, just resting...
BTW, I don't buy flank steak because I think it is too expensive for the cut of meat. For that type of meat, I will usually get a cheap London Broil and marinated it for a day or two to tenderize it and then toss it on the grill, cook it rate and slice it up
BTW, I don't buy flank steak because I think it is too expensive for the cut of meat. For that type of meat, I will usually get a cheap London Broil and marinated it for a day or two to tenderize it and then toss it on the grill, cook it rate and slice it up
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Pappy, you still here?
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I'm beckoning you brother
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Hope the link works. [ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vOUYry_5Nw&sns=em[/ame]
Sent from my iPhone
Sent from my iPhone
OP
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Sunday windy Hawaii winter [emoji39] morning coming down
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDQwwMjOD9M[/ame]
[ame]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDQwwMjOD9M[/ame]
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Any dixieland fans out there? I'm a big fan of these guys. We have a small group at work that gets together and plays tunes from time to time. We aren't half bad, but then again we aren't half good either...
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Or perhaps a traditional New Orleans dirge if in fact Passed and Dan did kill this thread...
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I've yet to discover how you link from the mobile youtube app but look up Steve N Seagulls
CGVT
Senior Member
I've yet to discover how you link from the mobile youtube app but look up Steve N Seagulls
Hey Matt!
Passedpawn set me straight on it. Just copy and past the URL from the top of the page.
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