Adaptive Curmudgeon

[Y’all know I’ve been busy with some shit. Here’s a video of my day.]

Idiocracy is like a mirror. What you are has a lot to do with what you see in it. So too with society. Observe this sign I noticed a week ago.

Shit happens. Bakeries catch fire. I get it.

This sign is earnest and truthful. Vastly more informative than any news program!

On the other hand, it looks like it was scrawled by a monkey. Nobody expects Shakespeare on a hastily posted sign, but I’d be pretty embarrassed to post something like this. I’d at least try for decent penmanship. I’d also try hard to not misspell anything. Then again that would be “inconvince”.

Here’s a different example.

It was at a much snootier locale, a coffee shop (the natural habitat of woke overeducated unemployable trustafarians). You’d expect improved penmanship and grammar. (It feels like you need at least a few year’s graduate school to be a barista.) As expected, the sign is well written, informative, and concise. Well done.

On the other hand, did we as a society overindulge in grammar education when we really need plumbers? (BTW: I’ve done a lot of “homeowner plumbing”. It’s not rocket science, but it is a skill one must develop. I can do some plumbing but not all plumbing.)

Are all bets off when the plumbing fails onto an electrical system? Maybe. Maybe not? I’ve had similar “homeowner scale” issues. It wasn’t the end of the world. I just killed the power at the breaker, and then (in an abundance of caution) I shut down the whole damn building. (Better safe than sorry.) I fixed the plumbing as well as I could, cleaned up the mess, and then figured out what circuits were safe to energize and which ones needed a pro (those circuits stayed dead until a pro arrived!). I’m not great at “repairing shit”, but I can do a lot more than nothing. (If I was truly skilled I’d charge $100 an hour like a real pro.)

Here’s a third sign I found.

Proper spelling (if you assume “4” and “for” are equivalent), concise and to the point, easy to read. I’d give it an A- but I’m dropping it to a B because “4” ain’t “for”. (Yes, I used “ain’t”; it’s my blog and I can abuse the language with full knowledge of what I’m doing.)

A second pen (possibly a second person) added details. I’ll take it!

A quick notice about a breakdown in the system followed after the fact by true information (presumably) explaining what went wrong. I’ll crank my score back up to an A-.

I wish news media could provide true data as follow up to unexpected events. It’s not that hard. CNN are you listening?

Let’s not go overboard with my little observations. Three signs about closed businesses doesn’t mean the end of the world. Unexpected events happen. That’s life. A sign taped on a door is better than a locked door with no explanation. I think of it as civilization clutching at the edge rather than fallen into the abyss.

What about the lack of electricians and plumbers? Is that the sign of a doom loop? Probably not. There’s been a shortage of skilled labor since labor got skilled.

As for literacy? Even the first sign, which looks like it was scrawled on a wall, conveys what needs conveying. It implies that any consumer (like me) could read the sign. I optimistically think it shows we’ve got near 100% literacy. That much of our literacy is at the 4th grade level isn’t the best news; but you already knew you lived in Idiocracy.

[I’ve been distracted lately (by undisclosed or at least only vaguely explained bullshit). In the interest of gradually and incrementally crawling out from under one of life’s necessary but annoying rocks, I’m making a low key post about a recent project. Go easy on me folks…]

In 2021, I went to the dark side. I bought a Dewalt electric chainsaw. I was embarrassed that it wasn’t a gas saw.

At the time, I considered battery powered saws to be whiny vegan nerd gadgets for doing half-assed, half jobs in nature-free suburbs. I might as well put on a tutu! But time changes and opinions must keep up with the energy density of batteries.

Also, there’s the matter of efficiency. My beefy two stroke saw is too much hassle for small jobs. I found myself unmotivated to lug gas and oil and yank start a roaring spastic death-saw for every ten minute job. Over time, the big saw seems to get fueled and started only when I’ll be working it several hours at least.

…a tool should match its job. Fail to do that and you’re choosing romanticism over efficiency. My real saw is a boat anchor for small time tasks. Sometimes a shovel is handier than a bulldozer.

The little saw impresses me. It punches well above its weight class! I bought a pruning saw (I playfully call it “chainsaw on a stick”) too. However, a stick mounted micro saw is overspecialized. It works for its purpose but I don’t use it very much.

The little chainsaw is a winner. It bounces around in my tractor bucket while I’m doing other shit. If I encounter incidental limbs or whatnot, I grab it from the bucket and the little saw chews through stuff like a chihuahua on crack. Then I toss it back in the bucket to be ignored for days or weeks. Brilliant!

Also, it’s a camping BEAST! Trust me on this, if you “car camp” or as YouTube influencers say “overland” you need a little electric saw. A nearly silent little electric chainsaw can hack up an ass-load of campfire wood without pissing anyone off with the sound. It’s much faster than my old bow saw. Toss a little electric saw in your truck and you’ll never want for firewood again (barring legal shit like National Park campgrounds).

I flogged the little saw mercilessly. By 2024 I’d done no damage other than breaking the housing on one of my batteries (and I nuked a few chains). That’s about as reliable as one could ever hope. I’m impressed!

The battery broke from being tossed around in my tractor bucket, not from overwork.

I set out to buy a new battery at a local box store. I lost my shit over the price!

By Crom’s throbbing nutsack I’m not dropping a c-note on a battery the size of a potato!

The box store was stupidly expensive. I sought to buy a two pack of 20v 5 Amp Dewalt batteries from Amazon which wasn’t cheap but less of a kick in the nuts.

Then, as now, I noticed an anomaly:

For reasons that make no sense you can get a two pack WITH CHARGER for SLIGHTLY LESS? I have no idea why.

Adding a charger reduces cost? WHY?!? It’s madness! It’s marketing gone beyond any semblance of logic! It’s an affront to economics, dignity, and the concept of reality… but it’s true. You’ll save $20 by buying two batteries AND a charger over the cost of just two batteries.

If anyone reading is from Dewalt… explain this to me. Use small words!

Last year I didn’t see generic non-Dewalt batteries. Now, in 2025, there are knockoffs. Dewalt deserves this for doing stupid shit like charging more for NOT getting a charger.  The knock offs are cheaper and they look real close to the original… but I doubt it’s true. It’s like saying “this pill looks like that pill, I’m sure the chemicals are identical so I’ll take them”.

I’ve had bad luck with knock off batteries from China. They might be the same as name brand. They might not. YMMV.

On the other hand, I had no qualms about buying a cheap Chinese knock off “box” and cramming the still functioning Dewalt components in the box. Which is exactly what I did.

Check my post for a step by step guide. I yanked the Dewalt components out of the trashed housing and cramming them into a cheap knock off housing. It’s not rocket surgery.

The knock off housing (at the time) cost $12.32. It’s no longer listed and I don’t recommend it anyway. It was made of the shittiest plastic imaginable. If it was any flimsier it would have arrived as dust.

But it did work… for about a year. Last month I broke the housing. This time it broke everywhere.

I fully expected cells themselves to wear down or the electronic board to short out. Not yet. I just broke the housing. I’m very impressed by what 20volts/5amp-hours can do.

Since it was broke, should I toss the battery cells? They’ve outlasted the OEM case and a rip off junker case, time to give up?

Hell no!

Last December I bought a 3d printer. I am officially a big bad maker of things.

First I tried to print a replacement following a free design I found on the ‘net somewhere. My only investment was a buck of filament and some time. Oh… and you need $500 worth of printer, filament switching hardware, filament, and the knowledge to use it. So it’s either “almost free” or “just over $500” depending on your point of view.

If that’s not an allegory for life I don’t know what is!

The free design sucked! I expected it to suck and printed it in cheap PLA just to see what would happen. The build looked ok but it cracked. I don’t mind. That’s why our language has the word “prototype”.

A broke “prototype” is just a lesson learned.

I could improve things by altering the slicer settings but there was a fatal flaw. The object I’d made didn’t fit right. That’s a deal killer! This housing design was close but inadequate.

I gave up and bought a more carefully made design.

Did you hear what I said? I paid money for information. Folks have been awash in bullshit so long they forget that true knowledge is worth real money.

Ponder where that leads us as a society. There are people with $50,000 in student loans debts over an education in “advanced navel gazing” with a return on investment of jack squat. Simultaneously online folks will fret over $15 for a 3d print model that’s exactly what they need.

Fifty large for bullshit or $15 for knowledge of value. Such choices abound.

I paid for knowledge that is useful and was happy to do so. Shouldn’t anyone?

I printed the new model using PETG filament. Without going into detail PETG is a step up from the simplest 3D printing filament (PLA). It only adds a few bucks per spool. It’s stronger, tougher, supposedly more resistant to temperature, and otherwise more awesome… but it’s still reasonably easy to use.

I have some exotic filaments. Carbon fiber infused PETG. TPU for AMS (which was lame). Real 95A TPU. Etc… I haven’t mastered those materials yet and don’t need them for a simple battery housing anyway.

I changed slicer settings too. I went to 100% infill. I altered orientation to make the least overhang but I also used supports. In retrospect I could have chosen a “stronger” orientation at the risk of more bullshit with supports. Life has trade offs.

The image below has a lot of nerd in it. The supports are hollow “trees”. The white stuff is PLA “interface” between the PETG object and the PETG support… meaning it breaks apart easily. The 100% infill consumes more filament but it seemed worthwhile on a thin object that’ll get used hard. The result seemed pretty tough.

I chose stupid colors because I wanted to use up the last of a spool on the small half of the job. Also who gives a shit about colors on a chainsaw battery? Actually I do. After I started, I found a spool of PETG clear translucent… I wish I’d used that. A translucent battery housing would have looked cool.

I don’t know how much the filament cost. I’m guessing about $5 total? That includes the PLA sacrificed as a prototype.

Lastly I chose a design with through bolts instead of screws that grind into the housing. This differs from OEM and is almost certainly stronger.

In the pictures you can see the 3d print lines. This is something generally minimized or avoided but it’s only cosmetic. It has nothing to do with the strength of a work tool.

I have a shitload of tiny metric bolts for 3d printing and smugly assumed I’d be set. Alas, I had none of the right size. I paid $8 total for four bolts and four nuts and the little hex key at my local store. Considering the size of the tiny bolts, $8 is obscene! Then again it’s a miracle I found them for sale at the local hardware store. Also, I like to throw money their way. Just as I value knowledge, I value my local hardware store. They’ve been ever so helpful for years. They’ve earned the right to rake me over the coals if I want to buy obscure tiny metric threaded hardware on a Sunday.

Final assembly was trivially easy. The results are better than the Chinese knock off housing, and (if you ignore the ugly colors I chose) it’s basically identical to the OEM product. When (not if but when) I break the next battery, I’m all set to “fix” that one too.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Happy 3D printing y’all.

How does one say something and nothing simultaneously? I’ve no idea; I’m not a politician. Yet, today it’s necessary. Here goes…

It’s been exactly 31 days. One month. Only. One. Month.

I hardly believe it’s such a diminutive unit! However, a lot can happen in a month. A journey, a challenge, a recovery, whatever it is… I’ve had more events than you’d think any sane universe would serve up so rapidly. God apparently decided I could handle it. I suppose he (not I) knew what he was doing. Events seem to support that supposition.

The horizon on this side of that short divide looks different than that side. Better actually! Things could have gone worse. I am reminded to remain humble and thankful.

My hastily drafted post wasn’t deep; “Shit’s going on. Said shit requires my full attention. I’ll be back when I’m back.” I didn’t specify what or why… because it’s a private matter. (Just shutting the hell up is still legal, moral, and possible… even in a world that has social media… isn’t that awesome?) I didn’t know when (or if) I’d be back. I suspected I’d be fine but that was more a guess than knowledge.

That odd little post was also a turning point in a mess that had been going too long on a scale that started looking exponential. As a general rule I blog (if sporadically) even when damn near dead. I’ve done that for years. Yet, what’s the point? Seriously… I mean it. Every now and then each and every one of us needs to sit down and think “what’s the point?” Do we? Do we indulge that ultra-necessary periodic moment of reflection? Do we avoid it? Why?

Regardless I gave up my mundane routine. I “just let it go”. (And by “it” I mean damn near everything! Most of which isn’t that important anyway.) It’s terrifying yet freeing to take your hands off the wheel. We monkeys cling to routine. When the spirit tells us otherwise we try hard to miss the clues. Was my brief abdication essential? I’ll never know. I think so. “Grinding it out” wasn’t doing me any favors. How many people “grind it out” all the way to a dirt nap? Not everyone has the resources and opportunity to try something different. I’m grateful I did. And remember… it was just a single month!

Pleasantly, I got some encouragement (both in person and in private). Thanks!

I’m not out of the woods… yet. Life, once it gets out of hand, can be restored (if you’re lucky) but only on its schedule. Rome was neither built nor destroyed in a day… so too with individuals. “In due time” is the only calendar I’ve read lately. I’m pretty darned grateful that it’s “in due time”. It could have been “never”.

How awesome is that? I’m as likely to be around in the near future as ever… which is not something I take for granted.

I’ll need a bit longer before I (and therefore my little blog) am back on my feet. It might be another month, maybe more, maybe less.

Don’t fret. Shit’s looking good. I have optimism.

What happened specifically? At least for now, I ain’t sayin’ nuthin’ about anything.

Which is probably the weirdest way any blogger has ever said “hang tight, I’ll be back”.

Thanks for listening.

A.C.

A bunch of things have happened to yours truly. Some good. Some not great but hopefully manageable. Some I can’t quite grok the full import yet.

None are fully (or even significantly) within my control. Sometimes you just have to ride the waves.

I may go off line a few days or even a couple weeks or more. But I’m still me and will be back in due time. Thanks for your patience.

Sometimes life comes at ya’ fast. Sometimes it comes at ya’ faster. Sometimes events fuckin’ avalanche your position. Your plans and rational thoughts are buried, burned, shredded, churned like a roto-tiller, hurled it into the void, bent, folded, spindled, and at some point in time they no longer represent roadmarks so much as you stand there punch drunk and wobbly; thinking… “what just happened?”

It is the fifth month of 2025. The most eventful of an exceptionally spastic year. It shuffles toward the exit. I remain. Still standing. Not only standing, but absolutely astounded at how well things have worked out.

Any of that make sense? Don’t worry, all lives are occasionally out of control, the specifics of my chaos are boring. I’m only logging on to say:

1. I’m here and haven’t forgotten ya’ll.
2. Despite eleven zillion things happening, it’s all for the good.
3. Sometimes one must drop the optional (including a much loved blog) simply to grasp at the shore. When this happens, it’s only temporary.

As thanks for your patience, here’s a little story:

I mentioned, almost a month ago, that I was in Hawaii. I also suggested I’m the sort that considered Hawaii only slightly less attainable or realistic than Nirvana. (I’m referring to the Buddhist state of enlightenment and not a defunct grunge band from the 1990’s. Incidentally, I’ve been to Portland; the place where the young go to retire. Nothing about Portland or grunge music or anything in the vicinity is mystically unattainable to anyone.)

Let’s pick up my story with an interesting moment in time.

There I was. I stepped out of my room onto a little porch. I was on the 12th floor of a hotel the sort losers like me can’t afford. The waves lapped slow and steady, relaxing even at the remove of 12 floors. The sun was setting. The tropical air smelled sweeter than any ocean breeze I’ve ever experienced.

I was completely and thoroughly jet lagged. I’d left a bit of my soul behind in the claustrophobic tubes of commercial flight. I didn’t know what time it was, or how long I’d been flying, or when I’d last ate.

I remembered there’d been three planes. I remembered dumping $120 on a taxi ride. (I’m not complaining, the plane had been free-ish to me!) Beyond that, I was thoroughly disoriented.

I didn’t know what time zone I was in. I vaguely grasped enough mental state to remind myself this gentle sweet rocking caressing ocean was the mid (or south?) Pacific, which explains why it seemed so unlike times I’d gazed on the angry surging hypothermic misery of the Puritan’s North Atlantic.

My phone chirped. It was a text from Mrs. Curmudgeon.

“Where are you?”

This is what I know now.

I know that Hawaii is not merely a state, it is an archipelago. The thoroughly modern city of Honolulu is on the island of Oahu. If you say of Honolulu, “it’s in Hawaii”, you just said something stupid. Another, and my favorite of the small number I sampled, is Maui. Say it with me… Maui is an island and not a city. You aren’t on Maui so much as you are in a town that is located on Maui. Ironically, the biggest island, which is clearly and reasonably named Big Island, is not where the action is.

Maui has dozens of places and they all have unpronounceable names. This includes the airport’s home town of Kahului, which lay $120 to the east of where my hotel was located. I dimly registered riding past Lahaina, the scene of a terrible fire two years ago. My hotel was nestled just short of Kapalua in the equally confusingly named Ka’anapali.

I know all of this now. Then, I couldn’t count to ten without six cats and a monkey to help me. I was utterly confused.

“Not the plane. Taxi. But then done.” I texted, capturing the true nature of my mental state.

Then I had another thought. I could neither spell nor pronounce Ka’anapali and had no real proof I was anywhere. I’d had no idea what plane was where. I had retrieved my luggage in a daze. I hadn’t the slightest clue where the taxi had driven me.

I could be on any island anywhere.

How was I to know I wasn’t, for example, on Puerto Rico? My addled mind would probably have better luck piecing together Spanglish than something originating from entirely unfamiliar Polynesian roots. Clutching my cell phone, I looked out at the darkening horizon. Not a written word to be found. Just the ocean breezes and strange Polynesian syntax. I could be anywhere! I could be in Tahiti, or Fiji, or American Samoa. I had a passport in my pocket. Had I used it?

For a man like me, who navigates the emptiest wilderness with considerable confidence, I was adrift. I’d gotten on a plane, I went wherever the fuck the plane went… and I was so very tired.

I looked at the phone. Mrs. Curmudgeon was probably getting worried. I ought to say something.

“I have not the slightest idea where I am.” I texted, truthfully.

“Enjoy your vacation.” Mrs. Curmudgeon texted back, but I didn’t get a chance to read it.

I was already asleep.

Gen-X, the oft hated, always ignored, rounding error of a lost generation, had Magnum PI. That was our window on the mysterious world of tropical islands and excellent moustaches.

Boomers, don’t think I forgot you. Y’all had Hawaii Five-O. It was a little earlier, starting in 1968, and played mostly after my bedtime. (How odd to think I was once young enough to have a mandatory “bedtime”.) Whenever I watched the show it bored me… but I think the theme is better than even Magnum’s.

Book ’em, Danno!

We walk our own path; often while hearing the fading echoes of the canyon where we started.

If you start out poor, or with small horizons, or behind the eight ball, you don’t have to stay that way. But it matters. Statistically, what’s initially unattainable, tends to remain unlikely. I never let that bother me. Indeed I’ve done tons of shit that seemed impossible right up until I did it.

Where I’m going with this is that I was born to a world where Hawaii might as well be on Mars. It simply didn’t exist for me. It didn’t exist for anyone I knew. I expected it to always be that way.

Then, I was there.

God it was beautiful! I’m shocked and deeply grateful for my good fortune.

I was in unofficial recuperation. Mrs. Curmudgeon, who wasn’t there to properly monitor me, deeply stressed that normal people “vacation” while I “adventure”. Given I’d been sicker than a dog could I just “calm the fuck down and not go fight sharks or whatever“? She’s a wise woman. I did my best to “vacation”; texting silly things like “still no sharks, snoozing in shade of palm tree“.

It worked. I needed a break and the rest did me good. I’ll be back to my old self “fighting sharks” some other day.

Thinking about how Hawaii seemed so exotic and unattainable reminded me of my only real connection with the place… Magnum PI! Back when TV was TV, and people watched TV, and America had a shared culture, there was one moustache that ruled all.

Magnum PI was pure prime-time fun. My young Gen-X future-Curmudgeon self gleefully watched every episode. Pre-Quigley Tom Sellek was perpetually awesome. He lived in paradise. He never had to shovel snow. The writers came up with a ridiculous work-around so boy-ish Sellek could drive the hottest car of the time and still claim to be broke. He flounced around with bikinis and Berettas and got free rides on T.C.’s colorful helicopter. Seriously, he was even named “Magnum”. Who has a name that cool?

I fuckin’ loved Magnum’s frenemy Higgins too! Dude was uptight and boring but smarter than shit. The plot hinted he had a bad ass backstory, possibly even being the super rich Robin Masters who supposedly owned everything. (This was an afterthought and the writers couldn’t quite paper over a few plot holes, but what would be cooler than a wealthy nerd pretending to be his own employee?) Higgins had exquisitely trained death dogs (Zeus and Apollo) and randomly turned them loose on Magnum! Why? Because, just look at him! Magnum had it coming.

It all worked out in perfect balance; Magnum had a +2 moustache of persuasion but Higgins kindly kept the freeloading hippie humble. Glorious.

Anyway, here’s to the fun show that all kids of a certain age (Gen X) fondly remember.

This post will be vague because I’m more privacy oriented than any blogger ought to be. Also, I’m a little more “along for the ride” than my usual “grab the steering wheel” self. So I barely know what hit me.

Late winter / spring kicked my ass. Bronchitis harpooned me and was reeling me in. Bitter, bone-dry, arctic, dehydrated air just wouldn’t let up and I suffered. Even my woodstove, which is a good friend to me, couldn’t bring my health or spirits up.

That doesn’t mean all was bad. I got my motorcycles running (though it was too cold to ride them much). I survived tax day (which I never take for granted). All in all it was just an ebb in the flow. The usual struggles of life continued through a “rough patch” and I sought to persevere.

Completely unrelated to the mundane, a hand up reached out for me. I caught a ride with someone else’s wave. My kid, who is full grown and an absolute boss in his own right, showed up with super discount plane tickets. He was going somewhere. Would I like to go too?

I’m never one to leave options on the table! I agreed, marked a calendar, and forgot about hazy futures. I went back to daily struggles… which seemed to never end. Infuriating bits of snow still lingers in pockets. Mud oozed. Nothing much was getting done. I gave up on the woodstove. I allowed myself to get pissed with the seasonal slog. There comes a time when a vacation will do me more good than the regular “self care”. I’d sunk below a threshold.

But time happens even when you feel locked in a loop. Thus it came to be that I am on vacation. Yesterday, my sleep deprived, weary, and bronchitis battered self climbed into a claustrophobic tube, then another, then another. I grumbled the rough the trip; packed like sardines, my ass hurt, I was unable to sleep. Time zones were crossed. Jet lag was banked for further misery.

But then it happened.

Paradise.

Right now, as I type this, I am in a tropical paradise!

I can scarcely believe my luck. As I breathe warm thawing air, humid from the ocean, warm but not too hot, I am simply awash with gratitude. And also shock. I, who have done “the trip of a lifetime” (within my expectations) so many times, have lucked into it again! I’ve been plucked from spring breakup / mud season to a sandy tropical beach.

What an amazing experience!

[When you get a 3d printer, people have two reactions. “That’s cool… nerd” and “there’s no point to that useless gizmo”. The latter can get brutally negative. I’m not sure why, but 3d printers freak out the squares.

The answer seems obvious to me. What will I make? Anything!

An “anything maker” has greater variety than almost any other tool you’ll find. A socket set is a one trick pony by comparison. But you have to get past the “only a factory can make things” mindset. Everyone and their dog has a house full of cheap plastic shit from Wal-Mart. People bought that stuff so clearly they must have wanted it at some point. Yet people act like plastic is the work of Satan. Apparently, the only socially acceptable DIY outlet is to lovingly carve heirloom rocking chairs out of salvaged oak?

Also, I’ll admit there’s a learning curve to 3d printers. The gadget isn’t magic. You’ll crank out keychains and toys for a bit while you learn.

I ponder the resistance. Folks fill freezers in a world with grocery stores. They stack ammo like dragons even though the sporting goods store is nearby. It’s odd that “anything in plastic” is particularly alien.

“Anything you’d find at Wal-Mart” at a cost of around $10 a pound is a pretty good deal.  Yeah, I’m oversimplifying: printing a Lego is easy, printing a TV is hard, and printing a grapefruit ain’t gonna’ happen. Even so, I see the potential.]

This among my first “fixed a real problem with 3D” challenges. In 2011 I installed a telescoping aluminum flagpole. Over time, some parts broke. I used 3D printing to fix it.

Plastic parts encircle the aluminum tubes. They’re little “gizmos” to which I clip the flag (including a second lower flag if I want). I didn’t know what these were called. Google suggests they’re top, double (in the middle), and bottom “swivels”. Because the flagpole is retractable, I don’t have a rope and pulley. I just reduce the flagpole’s height until the “swivel” is within reach.

It’s a rough environment. I’m not upset that the plastic swivels are shot. They lasted about 10 years and that’s not too bad. I ignored them until a windstorm got out of hand in February. I retracted the pole, consigned the torn flag for proper disposal and was like “where the heck will I find plastic parts for a 14 year old flagpole?”

I didn’t really even look for the parts. I knew they’d be unavailable locally and I didn’t feel like hurling any more money at Amazon.

Instead, I “designed” a solution completely from scratch. I “drew” it in Fusion360 (free) software. This is an entirely new thing. I didn’t download some dude’s plans, or Google “how to make flagpole do-hickeys”, or take instruction from anywhere. Nor did I carefully copy the broken parts. I took a few measurements and created a 3d dimensional object that was bulkier and chunkier to my personal specifications. How can that not be cool?

Then I fed the design into my 3d printer’s “slicer”. Without going into the weeds, the slicer has settings your 3d printer uses to turn the pristine mathematical construct you created in cyberspace to a physical object in the dirty, stochastic, gravitationally pulled, climate uncontrolled, real world.

There’s about a million things you can do in a slicer. They matter (or not) based on the specific “never before in existence” thing you’re making. There’s a lot of room for experience. Luckily, a Bambu Lab A1 is pretty forgiving and I wasn’t exactly making a complex object. I tuned a bunch of nerdy stuff to make it extra strong and hoped for the best.

It seemed to work.

3D filament comes in all sorts of “material”. Plastics of every sort and chemical structure have different features. The easiest to use, (in my opinion) is PLA. A small step up (also in my opinion) is PETG. PETG has much greater resilience. (It costs about the same.)

I’m going to seriously stress the material. My flagpole gadgets will be UV exposed in the sun, rained on, cooked dry, froze to well under -40, blown in blizzards, shit on by birds, etc… Here’s the cool part, I don’t need to freak out. If the part fails it’s just a thing to replace, not the nose cone of an F-14.

I made it thicker, beefed up the infill and other slicer settings, and so forth. I think it looks better than store bought.

The “top anchor” is good. I didn’t bother replacing it.

I started with the “middle anchor” which is for the bottom of the top flag and also the top of the lower flag, it has two anchor points. Here it is in Fusion 360.

Here it is in the slicer. (Notice the “tree” supports that hold up the “overhang” on the two loops.)

Here it is in real life.

Here it is in real life next to the broken part.

Then I realized the bottom anchor was shot too.

It took measurements off the broken part and made a bottom.

Here’s the set of two objects.

Here’s the new part next to the old broken part.

Fusion 360 can send things directly to the slicer or via an interim file. The interim file (which I used on the second part) changes perfectly smooth arcs into an approximation. The direct process doesn’t do that. See the “ridges” on the print? They’re so small you can hardly feel them and there’s no way it would matter on a flagpole, but I didn’t like it so I went back to direct uploads. There’s a lot of such things to learn.

I also made a rookie mistake! Never measure the part that broke, measure the environment into which it must fit! The part came out about 1 mm too small to slide onto the flagpole.

All the cursing in the world wont add a millimeter so I redrafted with a generous 3.5mm tolerance and reprinted. This isn’t exactly a tragedy. According to my slicer, the “bad part” cost about $1.41 to make. Tossing a buck fifty ain’t my favorite thing but it’s not the end of the world. It also means the total repair was a little under $4.50 even with my rookie mistake.

Here’s what the flagpole looks like with the new parts installed.

I got my motorcycle running and was going to ride to town to buy a new flag, but I’m still fighting some ailments. I wasn’t feeling up to it. I rode to the nearest gas station, bought a tank of gas for the bike, and scampered home.

A few days later I was in better shape. I went to town and bought myself a super nice flag. (I bought mine locally and not on Amazon, but I spent about that much on it.)

I think it looks glorious. (Note the lower “swivel”. I’ll put it to use when I get my next “lower” flag.)

Epilogue:

Naysayers abound. IRL I had a bunch of people insist my $4.50 worth of plastic ingenuity is surely more expensive than buying parts. I did a search and found this:

Ha! I’d have paid $58 (plus shipping). It does look like an exact replacement. Now I’m extra special ultra mega pleased with my <$5 construction.

Printing hardware ain’t free, but saving $50 on a small job is pretty sweet. I imagine it’ll pay for itself in due time.

I have a 1989 Honda Pacific Coast (PC800) motorcycle. I named it Marshmallow Fluff. I love that oddball bike. I bought it in 2023 with the intention of motocamping/touring; ideally far from Interstates but still pavement based.

The PC800 won’t be my first motorcycle for long distance road trips. I’ve gone cross country many times with my beloved vibrating chrome and black Harley-ripoff 1999 Honda Shadow. I’ve done it enough that I can’t recall how many times. However, I… well the word isn’t “grow out” because I still love my Shadow… but something happened.

The Shadow is a cruiser and cruisers are awesome… until they’re not. When I bought it (26 years ago) there was nothing in my mind but black and chrome cruisers. Non-cruiser bikes didn’t really exist in my mind. Now, decades later, I’m a little “cruisered out”.

Maybe it’s an age thing? Does there come a time in your life when you realize you’re rumbling around in a chromed up contraption that is stylistically based on a 1940’s machine and say “why“? Why are we all acting like a 1940’s V-twin the apex of human achievement? What seemed like the ultimate option now seems like a Boomerific time warp. The 1940’s were OK but not every vehicle has to look like a Studebaker. Imagine if every car out there, from Honda Civics to GMC SUVs to Toyota trucks all had stylistic cues from a Chevy Bel Aire. It would be cool at first, but then weird.

I don’t know why my tastes changed. It’s just something that happened. First I bought a dirt bike and then I bought the oddball PC800. I also stopped drinking beer and gained a taste for bourbon. Is it an old-guy thing? Lord help me!

Anyway, the PC800’s weirdly engineered and super-huge waterproof saddlebags are what I really wanted. (I call it a “bedonkadonk”.) The strange trunk is so damn handy! Much less hassle than strapping shit down on the Shadow (or any standard cruiser).

Also, I find it amusing that the “underpowered” 800 cubic centimeter PC800 is zippier than the beefy rumbling 1,100 cubic centimeters of my “generic cruiser”. It even gets better MPG (just a hair under 50 MPG which ain’t bad). (For comparison, an 1800CC Goldwing, which is what I was originally planning to buy gets MPG in the low 30’s.)

Small engines (on motorcycles!) aren’t boring. Who knew?!? This is a thing learned late in life. It’s my archaic single cylinder 200cc dirt bike that taught me the truth. Displacement ain’t all that and a bag of chips. My tiny dirt bike with its ridiculously huge traction monster of a rear wheel will gladly drag my ass through, over, around, and directly into anywhere I point it. The limit is not power, it’s if I can hang on. (Notice, I’m not talking about speed so much as brawn.)

Similarly, my 800 weirdmobile zips along at 80 MPH like it’s not breaking a sweat; because it isn’t. It won’t smoke a sportbike and that’s not what it’s for, but that mildly tuned 800cc will readily move your ass down the road like a magic carpet.

I wonder sometimes what my cruiser is doing with all its spare displacement? Is it all for rumble and roar? It sounds awesome and feels great… so maybe that’s exactly what it’s doing.

(Side note: The Goldwing’s flat opposed 6 cylinder engine is less “yet another motorcycle engine” than “such a marvel of technology that it’s a joy knowing they exist”. The power delivery is less “zippy zoom” than the silent, inexorable, soul-rending, might of a nuclear reactor. I can’t mock the Goldwing’s massive overkill 1,800cc powerplant because it’s so goddamn perfectly engineered. Goldwings might have the best engine to exist on planet earth.)

2023 was a hard year so no motorcycle trips happened. In 2024, I didn’t get do many road trips but I rode my tiny Yamaha TW200 halfway across Wyoming on trails; camping as I traveled. (The WYBDR.) The TW200 (Honey Badger) is slow, cheap, and uncomfortable… so of course I had the time of my life! (The whole story is under Walkabouts: 2024 Summer. Here are a few random photos.)

I only took the PC800 motocamping once. I did a late fall overnight at a tame State Park just to test the idea. It performed flawlessly.

When snow hit the bikes were parked and life slowed down. I wanted to winter camp but it just wasn’t in the cards. I’m glad I didn’t go because I got sicker than a dog. I would’ve blamed it on the campout. Getting sick without a campout spares me blaming myself.

Gradually, my health has improved. Spring hints it’ll arrive (late as usual). I’m impatient; a dog pulling on the leash, cabin fever bouncing around my head, flat out desperate to be not-indoors. Unfortunately, even though it’s mid-April, it’s thoroughly mud season. Everything is wet and slimy. It’s a terrible time to play outdoors. Dammit!

Rather than bitch about the weather, I tweaked my little PC800 to make it more “travel worthy”. (BTW: I call it “little” because the bike is unassuming but it’s actually quite porky. In the garage, it’s both bigger and heavier than it “feels” when you’re riding. Maybe it seems “little” to me because I compare it to Goldwings, the ultimate “Imperial Starcruiser” scaled road ham. I test rode several used Goldwings before selecting the PC800. Goldwings are awesome but I preferred the PC800 for strange reasons. I wanted something simpler, liked the trunk, and was smitten by the “button free” interface.)

For my “test camp” last year. I strapped a sleeping bag and tent to the rear passenger seat. Everything else rode in the funky, one of a kind, trunk. My stuff rode like it was welded to the frame. Nice!

I have a non-OEM Corbin Seat with an add-on passenger backrest. The driver’s seat is old and a little hard. I’d like to replace it but it’s not like I’ll find a custom seat for a 36 year old bike at Wal-Mart. The rear seat is irrelevant. I don’t have passengers on my bike. Mrs. Curmudgeon announced her motorcycle days are over. I can respect that.

If you’re gonna’ ride solo, why have a passenger backrest? So, I removed it.

That part you just removed? Put it up against the wall!

My goal was to install a cargo rack. Cargo racks extend behind the (in my case non-existent) passenger. Lots of people put a trunk there. Most fat touring bikes have a trunk waaaaay back there. Check out any Goldwing “Superslab Computer”, Harley “Untriked Bagger”, or BMW “Megapayment”. (Don’t hate me for mocking perfectly good bikes. It’s all in good fun.)

I don’t know if I want a trunk, but I want a rack that could support one. I found one on Ebay and it was cheap! I bought it fast. You don’t find accessories for 36 year old bikes just hanging around.

So I uninstalled the rear seat and popped off the passenger’s backrest. Easy peasy. I was going to slap on the cargo rack but a wing was in the way. WTF?!?

My PC800 came with a “wing”. Why? I have no idea! It just sits there doing fuck-all. Someone somewhere must have thought it was cool. The 1980’s was a weird time. I was there and a whole lotta’ stupid was going on. It’s not aerodynamically necessary so I never liked it.

Also, it’s right where you’d put your hands when you lift the trunk yet it’s not rugged enough to serve that purpose. Some previous owner made that mistake and damaged the wing. The subsequently “fixed” wing is good enough for a non-essential farkle. I still think it’s  silly. Check out the repairs. Could be a few years old, could be decades. I’ve no idea. Regardless, now it’s gone.

The biggest drawback to a PC800 is all the acres of “plastic” Honda wrapped around the engine. (It’s probably fiberglass but PC800 owners call it “Tupperwear”).

I see what Honda was trying to do and it was a reasonable idea. Unfortunately, all that “Tupperwear” scared regular motorcycle people away. There’s an irony in this. Every car on the road is sheathed in plastics and body panels. Do the same on a motorcycle and it’s “too hard to work on”. I don’t know why.

Indeed it was a bit of a puzzle. I had to pull literally a dozen screws to get to a secondary thing that didn’t seem to interact with anything else. I did this to access the back of 2 of the 4 mounts for the completely unnecessary wing.

Nothing was too hard. Nothing was impossible. But with 36 year old plastics, one must move with caution. I’ve seen PC800’s that have been owned by impatient gorillas who just couldn’t grok the subtlety. One guy attacked the battery compartment with a hacksaw. The proper access to the battery is not immediately obvious and it’s somewhat involved. On the other hand, what kind of moron will literally cut away materials rather than use his monkey brain to figure out the factory intended installation process? (I test drove that bike but didn’t buy it. Any owner who’ll hacksaw his way to a battery has surely done abusive things to the rest of the bike.)

Unlike the gorilla owner, I invested in a shop manual. I got it when (because!) I chose to buy a weird bike. I also have oodles of patience. I figured it out.

Soon I’d removed the wing. There are holes where mounting bolts went. There are many ways to solve that problem (including flat out ignoring it). I went with the simplest and only a few steps above ignoring it.

I bought bolts to fit that spot and nice rubber washers. In a fit of vanity, I bought $4 chrome round topped hex head bolts instead of $0.20 pot metal. They look absolutely adequate. I could patch and sand and paint but fuck that. This is a riding bike, not Orange County Choppers. Assuming the bolt holes don’t leak (and I think they won’t) I’ll soon forget they exist.

I got everything buttoned back up and it didn’t look half bad. I’m pleased with what I’ve done. My moron level mechanical skills interacted with the PC800’s fearsome Tupperware and nothing wound up broke!

I think the rack will be perfect for strapping down tents and sleeping bags and such. I planned a “shakeout” ride for the next day. I decided to strap down the tent & sleeping bag for a full test.

Overnight, it snowed! The bike and I are grounded once again.

Sigh…