Saturday, November 16 ...

 

Saturday my dad came over and we worked on fixing the electric rear window in my IHC Travelall.  Long story short:  The rear (power) window in the tailgate had died, the motor had just decided to stop working a few weeks earlier, and being we didn’t really need to close the window (the weather being generally mild and when we needed to use the Travelall (aka “the truck”) it was always to carry stuff that stuck out the back window anyway so no big deal.  But then the rains and cold started getting worse so we figured, okay, now’s a good time to fix it.

 

We took the dead motor, along with a spare motor that we had that was in unknown operating condition, to a repair shop during the preceding week (my dad did, anyway).  Seems they can rebuild these beasts to original specifications, or close enough, and so you can save several $$$ in the process because a new motor is even more spendy than a rebuild, and the rebuild was expensive enough.

 

They did their magic stuff and got both motors working again, although they reversed a couple of wires so instead of the red wire being for “up” and the yellow wire being for “down,” they’re reversed.  But what the hey, it still worked.  That is, the motor worked – but once we put the motor back onto the regulator that lifts the window, and then put the resultant regulator assembly and window back into the truck, the bloody thing wouldn’t work.  Or, rather, it worked in terms of the motor tried to raise the window, but it just didn’t have enough oomph to make it go.  I had to pull up severely on the window to get it to move at all, and that ain’t good.

 

So we took everything apart again, checked for any binding spots, greased anything that looked like it might be rubbing, and tried again.  Still no go.  We ended up taking everything apart and putting it back together in various permutations for several hours, and at the end, still no go.  Drat.  Or words to that effect, if not a bit more vociferous.

 

[Flash forward one week to Sunday, November 24:  We didn't think about trying the other motor, as we assumed -- wrongly -- that they were pretty much exactly the same, in terms of power output.  Turns out that one of the motors, the one we started with, wasn't putting out as much power as a brand-new motor due to the fact that it's armature and coil windings weren't generating the magnetic field required for maximum power output blah blah blah techno-babble ... anyway, when they rebuilt the motors, they discovered that one of the motors had what they called a "weak" winding that couldn't be corrected, and so didn't have as much torque as an original.  But they figured it was still close enough to specification, and at least the other motor appeared to be in good condition.  Anyway, we spent hours fighting with that *&@#$! rear window motor and assembly and couldn't make it work, and we called our friendly Travelall specialist, Ernie, who knows pretty much everything there is to know about Internationals but who also gives new meaning to the phrase "Crotchety Old Buzzard", and we asked if they still made replacement motors, and he said they did but he didn't have any, and besides there was nothing wrong with the rebuilt motors, it must be an alignment problem in the way we were putting the motor regulator assembly back together because he'd never had a problem like we had that had anything to do with the motor; basically, he figured we screwed up something and was not subtle in telling us so.  To which I said, "PLBBBTTTT!!!!" although not to his face because we still need to get parts from him and no point in burning any bridges, so to speak. 

 

Operating in "What The Heck" mode, we swapped out the second rebuilt motor for the first rebuilt motor, and -- voila, it worked!  Why didn't we do this earlier, you ask, to which I say, "PLBBBTT!!!"  So it was a bad motor after all.  We're pricing brand-new motors, and I'll update you on the cost, which I'm sure will be significant, but not as much as I would have to pay if I'd told Ernie "PLBBBTTTT!!!"]

 

Anyway, back to Saturday the 16th ...

 

We worked until five-ish, and then called it a day, as my sister Tina had invited us out to dinner for my birthday, or close enough, being my actual birthday was Sunday but Saturday night would work out best for what she had in mind:  There's a "local" musician (read: a guy from Portland, OR, who plays in Portland, OR, and wherever else he can get bookings), Geoff Byrd (www.geoffbyrd.com) who is (of course) a very talented singer/songwriter, guitar player, guess you could call him a "blues-folk-pop-rock" singer, if you need to, anyway he's an awesome guitarist and funny guy and listening to his voice and guitar and general "attitude" I would put him somewhere along the lines of maybe Cat Stevens or David Wilcox.

 

And for a few minutes I even debated asking him if he’d heard of David Wilcox and might even play some of his (Dave’s) songs, but I was saved from asking this when Geoff said (I overhead this as he was talking, very nicely, to a guy who asked Geoff if he would play some song by somebody I heard of but can’t remember), "I really like [that singer] but I'm sorry, I'm not playing any covers right now, I have nothing against doing other people's music, I love it, I love playing them, I just prefer to do my own stuff right now, I hope you don't mind, and I hope you enjoy the songs."  Anyway ...

    Geoff was playing at a pub/roadhouse called "Hagars," a small, cozy place, basically a large house in a former life, I think, and Geoff is playing in the corner of the front room about three inches (literally) from our table (my sister is a big fan of his, also a friend of his).  And we're listening and grooving and also talking and eating (cuz it is a restaurant and Geoff was playing as he does most weekends, 6pm-10pm, in the corner of the room, great stuff, and his mom comes to every show, very very cool, she was sitting at our table!
    So, anyway, Geoff is playing and I'm listening cuz it's great stuff, but I'm also sitting sorta sideways to him, drinking my beer and eating my burger and I'm catching little bits of conversation Geoff is having with various people between songs and sets (like I said, he's about three inches away from us) and I'm not really eavesdropping but I do catch some interesting stuff:

I'm already a big fan of him and his music and will definitely be going to future shows.  I bought one of his CDs and he autographed it for me, then he came over (three inches) to our table a bit later, on a break, and chatted a bit, asked us our names (Claudia and I were there, with my sister, Tina, my nephew, Fletcher, and my sister’s date, Dan, along with some of my sister’s friends from work), were we enjoying the show, and gave us his other CD free just because he was so glad we were enjoying his music and also he was in such a great mood because the place was full, whether they'd come intentionally to listen to his music or not, but in any case everybody was listening to his stuff and clapping and not being (too) rowdy while he's singing ...

    I've never played anything in front of any kind of group (discounting speeches and stuff in high school and college, your basic crap) and I know there are a lot of really, really, really talented people out there, making music and playing for whomever will listen, and I tried to imagine what it's like being on the other side of the table, so to speak, the guy singing to our backs as we're drinking the beers.  I mean, Geoff Byrd is really good, and he's able to survive on the income from his music, so to speak, but he's also playing five hours every Friday and Saturday night at hell-and-gone pubs where some people come just to listen and some are just there and some don't care either way ...

    So anyway, Geoff is out there making music every weekend in front of people who may or may not be listening, hanging in there for those people who “get it” when he plays,  and that alone is impressive.  Cuz I'm a writer, and my ideal working environment is a quiet room or place all by myself, and my ideal audience is the person who reads my stuff and "gets" it and whom I never have to meet in person.  So there is that.

 

How much work is it when you've got to "put on a show" and you're just blasted?  Or when you're feeling great and the audience is totally disconnected?  Maybe I’ll ask him next time …