12 May 2008
It’s like Y2K all over again without all the panic. I heard an interesting story that the old gas stations near Yellowstone remedies this problem by selling gas priced by the half gallon. The psychological effects of seeing the numbers fly by at incredible speed are soon overshadowed by the $70 price tag of filling a mid sized car.
Link: My Northwest
6 May 2008
I’ve been interested in biodiesel for a few years now. I would love to convert an old Mercedes 240D into a Grease Car. But there are a number of other projects I’ll never get around to, to get to first. Once my odometer finally tops 300,000 miles I imagine I’ll guy a new one. As much as I’d love to get an old Mercedes, it’s much more reasonable to assume that I will be driving a Rabbit, Mini, or Smart Car.
Bio Diesel America
1976 Mercedes 240D/300D Owner’s Manual
National Bio Diesel Board
Making Bio Diesel
Bio Diesel Reactor Plans
5 May 2008
Why someone would drive around filming Bath Maine from the passenger seat I don’t know. Further still to put that video up on You Tube seems somehow nearly status quo. I was fortunate enough to be stationed in Maine in ‘04. It was the place I fell in love with the outdoors again. Where I remembered how to fish, camp, canoe, kayak, and climb. This New England town was the perfect place for my twenty-three year old soul. I will take a piece coastal Maine with me through out my life and am grateful that someone would spend eight minutes and forty-nine seconds driving around for me.
Looking back on this year that I predictably cannot believe has flown by I reflect on my writings as a signpost of who I am and where I am headed in yet another major transitional period of my life. In the midst of this period following a second deployment and separation from military service I began my academics inspired by a fishing story nearly four years old. Maine has fairly liberal fishing laws. As I understood them when I was stationed there in aught four, no permit was required for fishing in coastal and tidal waters. That season we fished Striper along the mouth of the Kennebec, camping on the beaches every weekend we had off. In August of that year I overheard some of the the auxiliary crew and deck hands complaining how each of them had gotten tickets from a game warden for fishing without a license up state. Another received a citation for urinating in public, in the river no less. While they all laughed it off I wondered how hard it seemed you would have to work at getting cited for fishing without a license. You would need to forgo the immediate four hundred thirty-eight of miles of coastal waters, ignore the eight dollar temporary permit for the weekend at the tackle shop, then piss into public waters at a state park. I reviled in the repercussion of their arrogance. Shortly after, it occurred to me that that someone got paid to patrol the scenic beauty of those northern New England waters. It was their daily routine to protect and preserve that alluring land. I set out to achieve my Bachelor of Environmental Science in hopes of working in fishing and wildlife enforcement.
As I wane into my late twenties I consider my views of identity, community, and tradition. I feel grateful that my life experience to this point has allowed me to work with people from the world over, building strong teams and a better understanding of the culture of humanity. As Jon Stewart said in his commencement address to the 2004 class of The College of William and Mary in Williamsburg Virginia, “The unfortunate, yet truly exciting thing about your life is that there is no core curriculum. The entire place is an elective.”
Only in Bath
The City of Ships
Maine’s Bath Iron Works sails into an uncertain future
3 January 2008
I don’t know how long it will be available for viewing, but I came across an interesting article from The Globalist. It’s a quick read that breaks down three dangers of “eco-fundamentalism.”
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