Found a guide to understanding statistics by the BBC.
(courtesy of Ars)
Why is the sky blue?
How does a gasoline pump at a filling station know when the tank is full?
How does a rice cooker know when to turn off?
What is the heat index that the weatherperson talks about during the summer?
Short Answer: A way of converting the current temp and humidity to the temp at 25% humidity. (Very important in terms of how the body can cool itself through evaporation.)
The Dallas Maverick’s schedule has been released. Another two months and NBA basketball will swing into full gear. I can’t wait! Hopefully I’ll be able to watch some games this time around since I’m actually around.
So we’ve been working on and off for several weeks now on John’s ‘88 Integra. Being an old car, we were expecting things to break and things to be stuck… Our main goal was to get the half-shaft out from the transmission which necessitated the removal of the ball-joint from the hub. However, it was still stuck even after using special pullers, forks, crowbars, dead-blow mallets, and other various tools. So instead we took the long way and removed every other component attached to the hub — the drive shaft, torsion arm, suspension strut, brake caliper and disc — and finally got enough room to get the half-shaft out. Unfortunately, due to our negligence earlier, we ripped the protective boot around the ball-joint and still had to somehow remove it. Finally, after a week of running out of ideas, the control arm ball joint bolt popped free from the hub it was attached to: We got the two stuck components free from the car and used the cooling (shrinking) side effect of brake cleaner and a 16oz. hammer to finally get it free. It took about 50 hard blows at the bolt while the hub was being propped up by a piece of 2″ by 8″ wood. Here’s a pic. (the photo’s color balance is off because the good pic was corrupted by Image Magick when I was resizing it. argh! >:-/) The second is a close-up of the stubborn tapered bolt.
I hate that damn m*****-fcuking ball joint!
And btw, if Tracie and/or Lynn are/is reading this, I’ve been practicing my foosball. 
Took my car to Texas Motorplex tonight. First time at the track. I’m sure most of you know what they do at drag strips — run quarter miles, where cars start from a dead stop and accelerate until 1320 feet later. The elapsed time and speed at that point is recorded.
So being my first time, John kindly walked me through the procedures: Don’t go through the water — it’s for people running with slicks, inch the car forward until both staging lights are on (this means you exactly at the right position — not too far forward or back), try to get to the staging area first, take a few breaths and rev to a good speed and get ready to dump the clutch when the light turns green. Plus a bunch of other stuff concerning first time jitters resulting in revving too high and just sitting there with the wheels spinning.
To get to the meat of it, I think I did ok. John ran my car first (stupid technicality*) and got 17.450sec @ 77.59MPH. He managed to break traction in first and second gear. Usually I break it in first but never second. Anyways, my first run I got 17.612sec @ 77.80MPH. Not bad, I think. The second time I did much better: 17.475sec @ 78.43MPH. I’m pretty pleased with it as it’s 25 thousandths of a second within John’s time. And John is probably the most competent driver in our group at the drag strips, usually beating or breaking even with people in their own cars. (that sentence took a long time to formulate…)
Here’s a pic of the slips:
I also got a pretty good shot of Shahab’s Type R:
The rest of the photos are in the gallery. IM me for the link.
* I was wearing shorts in my first run but they saw me and wouldn’t let me run so I let John have a go. Note to self: Wear pants at driving events.
Jennifer’s birthday weekend celebration is going well. We thought that the people showing up from across the country would make her cry but instead, it was the present that did it. :-p She had actually been talking about a new phone for a few days and even used her phone to take mock photos of her friends on Friday at Main Event.
We had dinner on Friday at Chili’s and we were all stuffed by the the time the entrees came around since most of us had lunch at 2:30PM after Tracie had come in.
The rest of the day was spent at Hurricane Grill and Oyster Bar where Jennifer proceeded to have her first few alcoholic beverages, most of which were not very tasty. There was a good live band that sang popular music and had a girl who danced in the gig around the audience.
Afterwards, we went to Main Event and played some vid. games and shot some pool and bowled down some pins. Then we retired for the evening.
Today, we just took the laid back approach and watched some Friends, ate some Cafè Max for lunch, played at the old renamed Putt Putt Golf, ate dinner, and played Wayne’s favorite game Mafia. I think he thoroughly enjoyed himself. Sam was accused throughout the several games we played, as usual.
And that…is a wrap.
Yeah, and the trip back from Phoenix was good. Covered about 1100 miles in a little over 16 hours on the way back. The Grand Canyon was huge and really takes your breath away. It made my knees quiver as I approached the edge on the South Rim. It is a long, long long way down to the bottom.
The van is nice. Driving it reminds me of a dump truck: Very horizontal steering wheel, very slow acceleration, engine really sounds like a good imitation. Rowing through the 5 speed tranny is fun too, though the throw is huge. Having all of 109 horsepower from its 5 cylinder 2500cc powerplant, the van is not for driving around town. It was made for cruising the highways. Hopefully we’ll be able to take a nice camping trip in it sometime soon.
What started as a pretty good day ended on a pretty sour note…
I was able to take a long nap this afternoon after getting some food in preparation for the visitors this weekend. Then I finally got my computer set up after it had sat in a corner for nearly a week. (And I finished Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire the night before.)
Went to pick up Wayne at the airport and then got some grub with John, Teresa, Shihab, and Raymond. First sour note: I tell Teresa about finishing the book and mentioning my strong interest in Cho Chang. She hints at bad things to come in the next book. I get sad and decide I don’t want to read …”the Order of the Phoenix“. Raced Shihab afterwards on the way to John’s abode. Got my ass kicked even though I had a decent start and he merely had a rolling start. Was fortunate that the cop lurking around the corner was at a corner 10 blocks down from where I dumped the clutch. Showed Wayne the the ‘88 Integra being torn apart in preparation for a new clutch. Then had some good laughs hanging out.
Then the second sour note: As I start to get in my car to leave, John notices something on the front of my car and proceeds to get a flashlight. Upon illuminating the driver’s side fender, we see a dent about 1″ deep and encompassing the whole vertical edge of the fender where the side meets the front. Boy do I get sour. This sucks. I have no idea when/where this happened.
I contemplate…
Couldn’t have been Sunday cause I would’ve noticed it when it was parked in John’s driveway. Must’ve been after I got back from Phoenix on Tuesday night. But on Wednesday, the only time I drove my car was to pick up my mom from work. The other times, I was driving different cars. And today (Thursday) I only drove my car to play tennis and pick up Wayne and go eat at Bennigan’s. So it must’ve been either at the tennis center or at the restaurant. I hate not knowing. I hate even more that no one left a note. I hate thinking about the repair costs or the constant bitterness I’ll feel seeing it if I don’t get it repaired. Fortunately, the fender can be replaced instead of repaired. But then the paint might not match and…
I don’t want to see bad stuff happen in the fifth Harry Potter book. I just want to see him get to know Cho and her liking him and stuff like that…Why can’t life be simple and fun?
I think I need a girlfriend’s shoulder to cry on. 