At Least I’m Not Playing Golf
May 13th, 2009Saying That Makes Any Experience Seem More Meaningful
I posted something about needing a tachometer for my lathe, and I also mentioned it on the Chaski forum, and I got a lot of responses. It looks like many people have had this same idea, so there are all sorts of products. Most of them (maybe all; I haven’t checked carefully) require you to put some kind of marking on a spinning part. An optical sensor observes it and gives you the RPM figure.
This should make life considerably easier. Right now, using the middle setting on my pulleys, I get 900 RPM at 60 Hz. That means 1350 RPM at 90 Hz and 450 RPM at 30 Hz. I can figure that out by myself. But I’d rather know the exact number so I can calculate SFM without so much grief.
There’s a guy who sells a tachometer that automatically turns RPM into SFM. I don’t know how it works. I assume you have to tell it the diameter of the work and so on.
I’ll try to make an intelligent choice. My lathe has a handle sort of thing on the back end of the spindle, and it turns, so it might be a good place to mount whatever the sensor looks at.
Yesterday I chucked a 2″ by 8″ piece of T6 aluminum in the lathe and fiddled with it. I faced and chamfered the end, and I made a little shoulder. The runout was horrendous. I didn’t make much of an effort to chuck it accurately. I just wanted to see how the lathe ran with a big piece of metal in it. Seems fine. I can tell I’m too retentive to be a fan of 3-jaw chucks. The idea of putting something in a chuck crooked and turning it round will never sit well with me.
One VFD problem: I got an “E7” display twice. That means “voltage overload.” Don’t ask me to explain it. I’m working on it. Something about the motor producing back voltage, I think. Maybe the weight of the aluminum and the chuck makes it harder for the lathe to brake, and somehow it’s giving me an error message.
The garage AC project is going well. It turned out I didn’t have to cut the hole myself, so I’ll just handle the wiring. I can’t even explain how great this is. In Miami, in any month between May 31 and October 31, a garage turns into a steam bath. Work is unbearable. In fact, just sitting around is unpleasant. Sweat runs off of you and gets on things you’re working on. With an air conditioner, life will be very, very sweet.
I can’t believe I found an 18000-BTU air conditioner that fits in a two-foot-wide hole and accepts a remote, for $127. That is a dream come true. I wonder if I can make my new universal remote handle the AC. I guess it should work. After that, all I’ll need will be a recliner.
Even if this AC craps out early, this model is so cheap, I could replace it and still end up paying about what an expensive unit would have cost. This baby usually sells for under 300. God bless the Chinese.
These trivial and relatively inexpensive things make me so happy. It’s almost sick. I’m so glad I don’t need a yacht and a Bentley to enjoy life. I’m glad I happened on pleasures that are productive as well as enjoyable. I could have ended up with an expensive golf habit! Can you imagine anything more worthless? Walking around hitting a ball with an ill-designed stick, perpetually failing to live up to your own expectations. It’s like a vision of Hades.
Here is what Winston Churchill supposedly said about golf: “Golf is a game whose aim is to hit a very small ball into an even smaller hole, with weapons singularly ill-designed for the purpose.” Playing golf is such a waste of time, it could reasonably be construed as a gesture of contempt for the value of your own existence.
Maybe my view is jaundiced because I was a golf orphan. At least when you fish, you bring home food.
On my sister’s suggestion, I got some oregano oil for my congestion. Can’t hurt. It’s supposed to do all sorts of good things for you. I just took my first dose, and it’s not unlike swilling Lestoil. I wonder if it’s good for gallstones. It has terpenes in it, I think. Gallstones hate terpenes. Which sound like they should be small tortoises.
Some day when the garage is totally subdued, I’ll post photos.
May 13th, 2009 at 11:46 AM
Golf orphan indeed.
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My dad and my brother love golf. I was actually better than my brother by far when my dad got us started, but I hated the game and couldn’t possibly agree more with this statement:
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“Playing golf is such a waste of time, it could reasonably be construed as a gesture of contempt for the value of your existence.”
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The thing is, I love spending time with them and do so whenever possible. But not playing golf. I hate that game with a passion.
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Now that my folks are retired, in light of my dad’s enthusiasm for the game, my mom has picked up golf, and really enjoys it.
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Sigh.
May 13th, 2009 at 12:15 PM
Golf courses are pretty, though. If golfing involved nothing but driving all over the pretty golf courses in those little carts, and drinking drinks with paper umbrellas in them, then it might be a worthwhile sport. Instead it’s spoiled by all those men in ugly pants (and women in unattractive polo shirts) whacking those tiny balls all over the place. At least in Florida the golf courses have alligators, which means there is the remote possibility that a golfer might get eaten. In my (admittedly twisted and sick) imagination that gives golfing here a frisson that it must lack elsewhere. Oh wait — they have alligators up in South Carolina too, don’t they?
May 13th, 2009 at 5:42 PM
“Playing golf is such a waste of time, it could reasonably be construed as a gesture of contempt for the value of your own existence.”
CafePress-worthy.
I think the ostentatious display of wealth and the reckless regard of the irreplaceable resource of time through openly identifying yourself as a golfer is an upper class analogue to identifying with the values of Flavor-flav.
At the Pearly Gates, I think the heavenly maitre d’ will ask if you have ever purchased a golf club and will seat you according to your investment in golf among the timewasters.
That being said, I’ve had fun at driving ranges and miniature golf courses.
May 13th, 2009 at 5:44 PM
On second thought, as long as cigars still seem to find refuge at golf courses, there may be a reason to preserve them.
May 13th, 2009 at 5:53 PM
Some day when the garage is totally subdued, I’ll post photos.
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I snorted at that one…isn’t this a bit like saying I’ll post pictures of myself when the diet’s successful? My garage is never “totally subdued”! (My kids may have something to do that, however).
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I agree completely on Golf. My father left me his Golf Clubs when he passed away. I tried them on a golf-course once; I scored inadvertant direct-hits on a car, a couple of patio sets, and a house. Who in their right mind has a house with aluminum siding near a golf course?!? The tin-can thunk sound was unmistakeable. I forever gave up Golf that day (to the relief of property owners everywhere, I’m sure).
May 13th, 2009 at 7:54 PM
Golf courses are a waste of land that should be rifle ranges. Seed ’em with prarie dogs or ground hogs!
May 13th, 2009 at 7:57 PM
RE: a tachometer: you don’t really need one, you’ll soon enough learn what the ‘close enough’ speed is. If you want, I’ll send you a revolution counter (that you use with a stopwatch) and you can make a chart. You can keep the counter, I have at least 3 of ’em.
Also, having a piece in a 3-jaw chuck with lots of runout, then making it round is fine. Most of the time you need to turn both the ID and the OD, so there’s no real need to get it running true before you start.
May 14th, 2009 at 8:51 AM
I tried to golf when I was an uncoordinated Teenager, and just couldn’t get it. But it is compelling. It’s not uncommon for the golfer’s mindset to be, “I hate this game. It’s impossible! Just a few more swings, then I’m quitting.”
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I figure there’s no point holding it against the golfers, though. Harmless fun.
May 14th, 2009 at 12:06 PM
We should proselytize golfers to become NRA members.
May 14th, 2009 at 9:08 PM
“Golf is a good walk spoiled.” — Mark Twain