Matt’s Seattle Trip

I was going to run this photo of Son Matt dressed up as Superman for Halloween in 1979 along with a link to a Halloween story I did last year. While looking for something else, though, I ran across some writing my kids did. Matt wrote a thank-you note to his Grandmother for a metal detector. Son Adam sent her a note thanking her for all things he and his buddy Buzzy did on a summer vacation in Cape and Kentucky Lake.

The coolest thing was a story Matt wrote about his trip to Seattle. He got bumped on a flight, which earned him a voucher good to fly anywhere in the continental U.S. He put off using it until the last minute, then decided he wanted to get as far from West Palm Beach as he could. Seattle, Washington, filled the bill. He REALLY wanted to drive to the top of Mt. St. Helen’s Mountain, but he had a problem: he was way under 21, so none of the big car rental companies would talk to him. I suggested trying to rent a U-Haul truck. Here’s his account of his driving adventures.

“If you hear a whirring sound…”

I was able to get a car so the U-Haul plans were for naught. In place of the truck, I was able to rent a car just a bit larger – a white 1983 Mercury Zephyr. The thing had over a hundred thousand miles.

The guy who rented it to me (he owned and operated “AAAAAA 19.95 Rent-A-Car” told me that the thing ran great. Of all the cars on the lot, it was his personal favorite and I shouldn’t have any problems, but “if you ever hear a whirring sound while on the highway, stop immediately – right away – and …Can you pop the hood there, son? Yeah, come around the front… can you see that thing down there? Yeah, just give it a few raps with the tire iron – don’t worry, you can’t ever hit it too hard – and the car will be fine. It doesn’t happen often, but I thought you should know. Just be sure and stop as soon as you hear it.”

I didn’t ask.

 Saw all the Seattle sights

With that hurdle cleared, I toured Seattle and the surrounding area. Beautiful is the only way I can describe it. Of course, I did all the tourist stuff — the space needle, the Seattle Zoo, Pike’s Market, Mt. Rainier, etc., but the best part was just driving around on the back roads, looking for cool stuff to see.

My longest trek was up Mt. Rainier. I had gotten up at the crack of dawn and the hill was a three-hour drive. I did it in just under 8-1/2. As Davy Crockett might have said, “I was never lost, but I was once bewildered for a few hours.”

Snow tires required

I was the last car up the road before the park rangers closed it down for the evening. It had just stopped lightly snowing. A quarter of the way up, I passed a sign that said, “Snow tires required beyond this point.” Not stopping to check, I crossed my fingers and hoped the car had snow tires on it. Halfway up the hill, the sign said, “Four-wheel drive vehicles strongly recommended for further travel.‘ Not stopping to check, I crossed my fingers and hoped the car had four-wheel drive.

Not much further up the road, I passed a sign that said “Chains required past this point.” The few locals with me were pulling over and installing chains. Not stopping to check, I crossed my fingers and hoped the car had chains on it.

Well, as someone who has never driven in snow or ice before, the rest of my quest was an uphill battle. I was sliding all over the place. Fortunately, by this time, I was just about the only person on the narrow, two-lane road that led up the mountain. I survived and made it to the top and am glad no one saw me slide into the two or three snow banks that jumped out in front of my 1983 Mercury Zephyr.

 The Rambo of rangers

At the top, I headed to the observation deck. I climbed three flights of stairs before I ran into the Rambo of rangers who said that the observation deck was closed.

“What?!? Sir, I’ve just driven all day, after flying in from West Palm Beach, Florida, to see this wonderful Washington mountain. I’m alone in a state over 4,000 miles from home. This is nature at its best and I’ve come too far to miss it,” I said with Tammy Faye-sized tears running down my face (and then freezing on my cheeks).

Nobody around for 25 miles

“If made an exception for you, I’d have to let everyone up.”

I took a careful look around, surveying what I could through the fogged-up window and the approaching sunset. “What do you mean everyone? There is, quite literally, not a single other living human within 25 miles.”

With an evil, this-man-has-probably-been-trained-in-the-use-of-chainsaws-look, he said, simply, “I know.”

I made it down the mountain in record time.

 Matt’s first report card

His teacher at Miss Lora’s Day School had him pegged early. Here are some comments on his first report card: “We have enjoyed talking with Matt. He always has something special to say…Storytime is a favorite. Matt has been a good listener. He has learned to put the most interesting endings on stories.”

Backup, Backup, Backup

I’ve had a very frustrating (and expensive) last two days. I’m a pessimist who believes that Murphy wasn’t an only child. I usually have not only a Plan B, but Plans C through E. In fact, a pessimist is someone who is actually DISAPPOINTED when Plan A works.

Optimists, on the other hand, don’t have Plan Bs because they are SURE than Plan A is going to be successful beyond anyone’s dreams.

How do you fight Murphy?

I have about 50% of my data on a pair of external 2-terabyte drives. The drives are mirrored, so the information is duplicated on both drives at the same time. If one fails, then you slap in a replacement and the mirror rebuilds itself.  We used this technology on equipment in our telephone switchroom, and it saved our voicemail system and what we called the “cash register,” the equipment that supported our circulation and classified advertising call centers. There’s no more sinking feeling than seeing the alarm, “Drive Fail>’

On the other hand, there’s a great feeling of satisfaction when you slide in the spare and watch your world – and your job prospects – become infinitely brighter.

Backblaze puts out the fire in your tummy

To be even safer, I back up the mirrored drives to a second external drive, and I also use on offsite, “cloud” backup system called Backblaze. You can’t beat the deal. It costs five bucks a month and you can back up unlimited amounts of data. (It was an even better deal for me: Son Adam prepaid a year of the service as a Father’s Day gift.)  The advantage to a cloud backup is that it’s not in your house where it can get stolen, flooded or burn up.

I wasn’t their normal customer. I have so much data that it took about four months to upload it all. One it’s there, though, it constantly monitors the files on my computer and sends changes to the cloud almost immediately.

I just signed up to become an affiliate, so if you click on the Backblaze logo above, or this link, I’ll get credit if you sign up for the service.

If you are an optimist, this is a good Plan B. If you are a pessimist, this will probably slot in at about Plan C or D. Five bucks a month is less than some folks spend in Starbucks a day and it’ll let you sleep a lot better.

So, what happened?

Last month, my RAID drives gave me an alarm that one of them had taken a dirt nap. These drives have names. The bad guy was the primary, the good guy was the secondary.

I ordered a replacement drive under warranty. It arrived in a couple of days. I popped it into the slot and watched with satisfaction as the primary synched up to the secondary in about six hours. All was good for about a month. Then, two days ago, the drive in that slot failed again. The vendor had sent me two drives by mistake, so I pulled out the replacement and replaced it with the second drive.

Just before I turned the drive back on, I decided to do a backup on my external drive G. I kicked it off just before going to bed and it finished just about breakfast time. That means the data exists on the secondary, on Drive G and in the cloud with Backblaze.

Life just got uglier

I pushed the new drive in, powered up the enclosure and got an error message that the drive had to be formatted. Format is a scary command. If you screw it up, you’ll wipe out all the data on the drive. To be on the safe side, I removed the good secondary drive, then formatted the primary. I’d never had to do that before, but…

I put everything back together, turned on the power, then watched, first with satisfaction, then with horror, that the mirror was being rebuilt. The little arrows were going the wrong way. The little arrows SHOULD have been pointing FROM the secondary to the primary. Instead, they were going the other way, meaning that the blank primary drive was overwriting all my data.

The pessimist in me was satisfied

This was a bad thing, but, at least I had the satisfaction of knowing that I had two other sources of the data, both fresh. I logged into my Backblaze account and started a download of the data. It’s a lot faster to restore from a local drive than from the cloud. (If I had REALLY been in a hurry, Backblaze would have sold me an external drive with my data on it.) Downloading everything on that drive was going to take about 50 hours, even with a fast Internet connection.

Here’s where I made a minor error. Backblaze has everything that was on the drive. When I did my backup to local Drive G, I elected not to copy over a couple of directories of nice-to-have-but-not-essential files. I would have been better off to have requested a Backblaze download of only those files instead of EVERYTHING. It would have saved a lot of download bandwidth and time. Still, this is a nice practice run and will give me a good idea of how good the service is.

THEN what happened?

I decided that the problem was probably in the piece of equipment that holds the drives, not the drives. I pulled out the primary drive, booted up on only the secondary, and copied all my data from the local external drive to the secondary. It worked fine. I decided NOT to try to rebuild the mirror.

I called Son Matt, who has been trying to convince me that I should buy a magic Drobo S Beyond Raid 5-Bay USB 3.0/FireWire 800/eSATA/SATA 6GB/S Storage Array with Drobo PC Backup by Drobo  because he had good luck with them both at home and at work. The magic part is that you can put a mixture of drive sizes in it to use old drives or you can upgrade them if you need more storage. Wife Lila is out of town on a cruise ship in Alaska, safely out of cellular range, so I felt safe in ordering the Drobo.

The bad news is that it cost $553.14 (without the drives). (That’s one of the reasons you should click on my Amazon link at the top left of the page. It helps pay for these kind of glitches.)

The worse news is that I clicked on the item to create the links on this page, and saw that the price had DROPPED in the few hours since I had placed my order. A very nice woman said they don’t normally do price matching, but they’d make a one-time exception for me and refund the difference between $553.14 and the new price of $518.49.

 

 

 

Brother David’s Birthday

I promised to have more and better photos this year than I did last year on Brother David’s birthday, but I had forgotten how quickly the pages on the calendar turn. This is the best I could do. Maybe next year.

The first shot shows David and Diane with their rental trailer. I’m guessing this is when they moved to Tulsa.

This is why they have girls

This double exposure showing David and Diane with their trailer also exposes Son Matt. I’m not sure, but I think this experience may be why the couple had girl children and their daughter, Kim, has girls.

Lined up at the trailer

Here we all are lined up in front of the travel trailer my folks bought to keep over at Wil-Vera Village on Kentucky Lake. The quarters were a bit tight. Wife Lila (who took the picture) was happy when Dad traded it off for a full-blown mobile home not long after this photo was taken. David and Mark are both sporting full heads of hair. I’m in that awkward transitional comb-over stage before becoming good-looking like Dad.

Love the details

Let’s see, David’s shoe is untied. Mark is tired out from carrying his hammer around looking for something to hit. The tricycle has a load of animal crackers on the rear deck. Note the red reflector tape on the trike. Dad bought it by the mile in widths from one inch to four inches and in white and red. I still have some kicking around. As always, you can click on the photos to make them larger.

So, Happy Birthday, Brother. I hope it’s a good one.

More David Stories

If you go to last year’s birthday, I have a link to a bunch of stories about my middle brother. Not on that list is David as a clown. A play clown.

Malcolm’s New Tree House

Grandson Malcolm’s eighth birthday is coming up this weekend. His party was held at a skating rink last year, which gave me an excuse to write about the rinks in Cape and Jackson. His parents, Matt and Sarah, teamed up with Neighbor Will Hill (he’s the guy without a shirt) to build a “tree house” in the backyard.

Will actually knew what he was doing. I built something for Sons Matt and Adam when they were a little younger than this. It started out as a simple platform with a sandbox under it. Before long, a fireman’s pole and a slide were added. The original structure used a rope ladder with PVC pipe rungs. It could be pulled up to keep Adam from climbing up to the level where he might be tempted by Matt to see if he could fly by flapping his arms.

Building a monkey bars gave me an excuse to add a swing to the mix. There was no overall plan – stuff just got added whenever the posthole digger cried out to make a new hole in the ground.

Time-lapse video

Matt set up his Nikon DSLR to take a photo every 60 seconds so he could condense a 12-hour project into a three-minute video. The structure could be more properly called a play house rather than a tree house since no trees were harmed in the making of the building, still, we CALLED it the tree house. Here’s what a REAL tree house looks like.

Mat made from shopping bags

I described how Mother had turned into a bag lady, making all kinds of stuff out of plastic shopping bags. One of her projects was to make a mat to go under Malcolm’s sleeping bag when he’s camping. He said that something like that would made a really nice rug for his new tree house (hint, hint).

Trapdoor leads to roof

Malcolm was already talking about how it would be nice to have a trapdoor in the floor, too, “just in case.” It’s a gender-neutral tree house. Neighbor Will’s two daughters and Malcolm are joined at the hip every waking moment, so there is no immediate prospect of a No Girls Allowed sign going up.

Photo gallery of tree house pictures

I was no fool: I showed up after all the heavy setup work had been done, and I left when it looked like a thunderboomer was going to roll in. The rain never materialized, but it was close enough that temps dropped to a comfortable level and Matt and Neighbor Will pushed to get the roof on before knocking off for the evening. So, you get to see the middle part of the project.You’ll have to click on Matt’s video to see the whole deal.

Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the image to move through the gallery.