noisedude
New member
What he said. Man, you guys have a lot of patience typing that stuff up. I can barely even be bothered getting it out of my brain 
mshilarious
Banned
Also this:
He is referring to an augmented chord, B+ (or Baug) which is a stack of major thirds, B to D#, D# to G (should be F##). The addition of the minor seventh, A, makes it into an augmented seventh, or B7+, sometimes for guitar B7#5.
There is no augmented chord embedded in a major scale, it's more of a whole-tone scale thing
Also you get them in a harmonic minor scale, which is probably one of the reasons that Yngwie loved them so 
He is referring to an augmented chord, B+ (or Baug) which is a stack of major thirds, B to D#, D# to G (should be F##). The addition of the minor seventh, A, makes it into an augmented seventh, or B7+, sometimes for guitar B7#5.
There is no augmented chord embedded in a major scale, it's more of a whole-tone scale thing
Also you get them in a harmonic minor scale, which is probably one of the reasons that Yngwie loved them so 
BentRabbit
New member
RICK FITZPATRICK said:CM 13 15 31 35 51 53 135 153 315 351 513 531
CM(ext7) 17 37 57 71 73 75 137 157 173 175 317 357 375
517 537 571 573 713 715 731 735 751 753
1357 1375 1537 1573 3157 3175 3517 3571 5137 5173
5317 5371 5713 5731 7135 7153 7315 7351 7513 7531
Then you still have:
Cm
Cx
Co
C1/2o
BTW: CM C D E F G A B C
I= 1357 CEGB = CM7 Add extensions at pleasure 1379
II= 2461 DFAC = Dm7
III= 3572 ECBC = Em7
IV= 4613 FACE = FM7
V= 5724 GBDF = Gx
VI= 6135 ACEG = Am7
VII= 7246 BDFA = B1/2o There is NO B+ B+= B D# G A
To whom it may concern
(F#) Im IV1/2o IIIM bVm13 bVIIo+5 II9 V+5-9
(bV) bII VI-9 Ix+5 etc. etc.
God I'm glad I'm a drummer...
noisedude
New member
You're a drummer? Well that explains things ....
BentRabbit
New member
noisedude said:
Don't make me turn you over my knee young man....
RICK FITZPATRICK
New member
Apparently you missed this when you did. So I'll restate it.
Hello folks. I haven't quit. Lifes little detours seem to take on a life of their own. Transmission clutches and throwout bearings are easier than the 60 chord system, but still take time and energy, and like music, the right tools for the job
Ok, let me put something into perspective here. I understand that "my" journey is not unique, nor is it interesting to some. Hell, I had to live it, so I know. And by far, some of you have much more interesting things to say. However, now that you know where I'm leading this, at least you can avoid it from now on, and I suggest you do if you have better things to do. Especially if you are expecting some spectacular revelation.
On the other hand, if you are like me, at some point in your musical journey, you realized there is more to guitar playing than the pentatonic scale, yet didn't have a clue to the theoretical side of music. That is ALL I am trying to do here. Which to some, may be as easy as posting the complete 12 tone theory in one post. You should write a book. However, even though I found the same thing many years ago, absorbing it and applying it are two different animals. Not only that, but I am one of those people who asks WHY to everything I come in contact with that I don't fully understand. Clutchs and throwout bearings being no exception.
Hence the time involved. Which was well spent as I could have replaced them WITHOUT having the flywheel surfaced first. 
Think of this thread as an analogy to the flywheel 
Yea, I could have replaced the clutch without resurfacing the flywheel, but damn, in a few weeks I'd have to do it all over again. So, in that regard, I will attempt to waste some more HR bandwidth, with my little tales of musical ignorance, and my journey to overcome it. Along the way, I will also try to explore some of the areas of concern that many of you already know. It is the person who does NOT, that I am aiming at. I just wished I had someone in my younger years to at least open my eyes to some of the things I plan on sharing with you. My jouney may have taken a different path. Although I am grateful for the one I traveled.
To that end I will continue here, regardless of other influences. I'll simply ignor you till you leave, because evidently you have mistaken me for someone who cares. Unless of course you have something positive to add. Otherwise, FUCK OFF. I won't argue, fight, spar or otherwise waste any more time on idiotic pricks who DON"T want to learn something or want to play king of the hill. Been there. Done that. Go talk gear on another thread or something. However, that is not to say, your positive comments and help arn't truely appreciated, as like I said from the getgo, no one person knows it all, certainly me. In fact, once I opened the door to the 60 chord system, my journey through this level of theory satisfied my needs and I didn't pursue further depths of theory. Hell, if you can FULLY explore the 60 chord system and its implications, you will have opened MANY more doors than I ever could. And one more thing, it is NOT just this system I want to explore once again. No doubt some of you just need a little explanation of something to clear up some stuff. It is that reason why I start my journey from the beginning. Everyone has a different story to tell regarding HOW their paths were chosen. Maybe mine will clear up some things, and maybe not. Only you will know.
BTW, some of you will no doubt scoff at this system as simply an extention of Roman Numeral notation. To a certain extent, I agree. However, it all depends on how deep you follow the rabbit hole. It is similar to acoustics. As did Alice, I was lucky I escaped.
Upon further exploration, you may discover doors that I didn't. All I can truley say is, Bill Evans(jazz pianist) wrote 4 books on the subject, and I highly doubt if he would have wasted his time if indeed it was nonsense. In fact, if I am not mistken, he is the author of the 60 chord system. You want robustness? His composition and recordings are the proof. Improvosation is the name of the game. However, if you are looking to improve your rock and roll lick vocabulary, move on because THAT ain't gonna happen here. Not that it can't help in that endeavor, but there are other sources for Rock guitar thinking. But if you want an example of where it can lead, listen to Bill Conners on Chick Coreas "Return to Forever" album. HE was my mentor(not that he knew it ). Not that I ever achieved that level of technique, nor was he my "idol" either, but he certainly opened my eyes to another path. Once the door was opened, I could never return to my former way of thinking. Cause once you have the Master Key all the doors are openable. But making the Master Key is not easy. At least it wasn't for me.Till the next episode,
Theoretical cheers
fitZ
dragonworks
Banned
I tried to go back and delete all my posts in this thread but it is to late so please just ignore them. Sorry you are so steamed, I didn't mean to step on your toes.
RICK FITZPATRICK
New member
Hello dragonworks. Hey, I wasn't steamed at YOU at all. Actually, please post. Do NOT delete And please forgive my little moments of irritation. My whole point was "if ya got nothin to say to help, then why say anything", type thing. Hey, I've got 2000 posts here. I'm no johnny come lately, and I understand the forum thing. I guess my dander gets up quick sometimes, probably cause I'm Irish. Ha, that should tell you something about me. Mainly, I guess when you posted that, I took it as the waste of bandwidth thing. So forget it. No big deal. Ok? Thanks.
fitZ
And please forgive my little moments of irritation. My whole point was "if ya got nothin to say to help, then why say anything", type thing. Hey, I've got 2000 posts here. I'm no johnny come lately, and I understand the forum thing. I guess my dander gets up quick sometimes, probably cause I'm Irish. Ha, that should tell you something about me. Mainly, I guess when you posted that, I took it as the waste of bandwidth thing. So forget it. No big deal. Ok? Thanks.fitZ
Rokket
Trailing Behind Again
OK, good. Cooler heads prevail. No back to the journey. I am stuck in the 60's and early 70's. What happened next????RICK FITZPATRICK said:Hello dragonworks. Hey, I wasn't steamed at YOU at all. Actually, please post. Do NOT delete
fitZ
B
bradly
New member
ibanezrocks said:I understand some theory, but I always just called it the actual note instead of a double sharp, even if it meant I used the same letter twice....
if you write music, a double sharp will be esaier to read for most people.
also with augmented chords you may have to sharpen a note that is already sharp.
-bradly
noisedude
New member
Course you did. Don't worry about it.dragonworks said:
timmerman
-------------------------
dragonworks said:
Dragonworks we all love you, you sure did not piss anyone of here so keep on waving that flag
I still can't believe I did mistake you for dragon...................well what can I say? Too much of that Dutch herb in my bloodstream? ....................aaggh I have been accusted of that one before by some of you, but nah it.................oh well forget it now.
Heh Rick, please carry on and it is great to hear that you are Irish, I guess some of you already knew that, but for me it is new as I am only a newbe or groentje as they say in Dutch
Eddie
timmerman
-------------------------
BentRabbit said:Don't make me turn you over my knee young man....
I can't tell you what that remark did to a quiet library room here on a Sunny Wednesday afternoon, but I sure must say it was fun
Eddie
RICK FITZPATRICK
New member
Rokket
Trailing Behind Again
Sure, it was yesterday!RICK FITZPATRICK said:Howdy folks. Do any of you remember this day?
Literally!
Why do you ask?
RICK FITZPATRICK
New member
I do. Good grief. Now, where was I? oh yea....Aunt Pats.
The trip home from Aunt Pats was miserable. I'd already become accoustomed to the San Francisco Bay Area weather, and here we were going back to the Sacramento Valley. It was at least 105 degrees when we hit the valley that day. But the Bay area had, mild temperatures, mild breezes, beautiful summer days, and most of the time the Bay was visible. Aunt Pats house was way up on a hill overlooking the whole Bay and the city of Oakland. You had to have money to live up there. As it is today, the have's get, the havenots do not. But I was never aware of that too much. Shit, I was the son of an Navy enlisted man. I didn't know jack diddley squat. For those of you who don't know what enlisted means, it means he wasn't an officer.
My Dad wasn't educated. In fact, he was a poor kid from Corning California. His childhood was a perfect example of the Grapes of Wrath, if you are familiar with Steinbeck's book. Just to understand where my Dad came from, I read it once. Of course there was the movie too. Dad said Steinbeck's version of the times was like someone visiting bombed out Germany after the war, and describing the aftermath and then going home to their luxury penthouse. They didn't have a clue about the war itself.
For those of you who don't know what it was about, it described one familys escape from the Midwest dustbowl during the depression in the early 1930's. Living through it was probably the light that led Dads eagerness to forget it and climb out of it. He climbed above it but never forgot it . It bestowed upon him a view of life and the world at large, that was...lets just say biased to say the least. But tempered with reality, fortitude, and love. Add being a second generation Irish imigrant to that and you get a man grateful for what he has today, which is a far cry from what he grew up with. Let me give you a clue.
If you saw the Grapes of Wrath movie, no doubt you saw the 20's Model T Ford pickup, loaded 8 feet high with a familys belongings, 5 or 6 shoeless kids, grandma, and the family dog, all crammed on the back of this truck and the parents in the cab, headed for the "Golden" state of California from the depths of hell known as Oaklahoma. And believe me, if you've ever witnessed a sandstorm like during the dustbowl, you would call it hell. Dad said in one week, their farm was covered in 2 feet of sand. It left thousands homeless. And during the depression to boot. Anyway, dads family were the characters and their trip was the epitome of Steinbecks saga.
Now, I don't know about you, but the thought of making a 2000 mile trip in a modern car on modern roads, gives me a sense of trepidation as it is. And I've made plenty of trips, some across the breadth of the whole USA, and one we even traveled pretty much the same roads as Dad did on their trip west, when he was a kid. Most of it on the historic "Route 66" of the song fame. Every time I hear the tune, it reminds me of those days and trips. Although, that was in the 50's, in a "modern" 1952 Oldsmobile sedan. Hahahaha! Pure luxury compared to dads trip as a kid. Motels, restaurants, GASOLINE, sidetrips and ice cream stops was what we had. They had migrant camps, firepit cooking, and side trips to watering holes and gas stations. Imagine crossing 200 miles of the Mohave desert in a Model T under the afore mentioned conditions. Let me tell you ONE of the experiences they went through to get to California, the land of plenty. Ha! Like dad says, for who?
First, I've got to apologize. I seem to forget the web is worldwide, and being so sheltered most of my life, my world has been pretty much the Sacramento Valley in California for 40 years. I forget that most of you may have never heard of Sacramento, let alone some of the other places I mention. Let me draw a word map. Oaklahoma is a State in the middle of the United States. California is another State 2000 miles west, with the Pacific ocean along the whole length of the western coast of California. Sacramento is the capitol of California, which lies in the middle of an 800 mile long agricultural valley that runs north to south from Redding on the north end to Bakersfield on the south end. It is literally a deep valley bordered by Sierra mountains on East side, and the coastal range on the west. That is the Sacramento valley. Between Oaklahoma and California is pretty much flatlands with a few mountains untill you reach the Sierras, and believe me, the Sierras are high. But before you cross them, you gotta cross the Mohave desert. It was half way across this desert that Dad discovered his greatest and god given skill.
You know, people now days, especially younger people, haven't a clue to how spoiled they are. Gasoline stations on every corner, billions of cars to choose from, lots of entertainment, tv, radio, dvd's, cd's, computers, and lord, guitars by the millions....shit. On the day that dad and family started across the Mohave, there was ONE little gas station, and the next was a whopping 180 miles away. Might as well have been a light year. Now, I don't know about you, but facing 180 miles of desert in a Model T Ford, with temperatures souring as high as 125 degrees, would be nothing less than worrisome, if not downright scary. Fact is, you could fucking die out there in a day. PERIOD. With 6 kids, 3 adults, loaded to the hilt, in an Model T ford, you better say your prayers. And thats exactly what they did. They filled everything they had with gas, water, a little food, and headed out that morning early while it was cool. They had $14 dollars in their pocket. By 10 oclock it was sweltering. Moving at the lightning speed of 25 mile per hour, they made it down the road slowly but surely, hill by hill, cactus by cactus towards their dream.
Needless to say, with temperatures approaching 110 degrees, with a huge load, you have to stop every 30 or so miles to let that poor old 4 cylinder engine cool down. So you don't get far in a day. At that time, 180 miles was a major trip, under the best of circumstances. These were not.
The first day was uneventful. They thought they could make it to the Sierras by nightfall on the next But Murphy had something else in mind. Before they could stop for the night, they had to make it to the next water hole though. In those days, there were places passed down by word of mouth, that you could walk 100 yards or so from the road and fill your engine water bag from a small alge covered pond or small creek, to make it the next 60 or so miles. Water went quick in those temperatures, and if you boiled the engine dry, and had no water, you were in trouble. You could crack a block, or freeze up the crank, or numerous other life threatening murphys. But don't use the drinking water. Some of those ponds could poison you. Unless all else fails, DON"T use your drinking water for the car, cause you might die of dehydration. What a choice. Won't be much help out there either. No such thing as Triple A. Or a tow truck. Or a cellular Ha, if anything, you might see another car out of the whole day. Not many people cared to venture across the Mohave desert during the summer days. Especially in a Model T. Unless you were like my dads family.
By 5 or so, they were almost to the next water hole. Engine boiling hot, people boiling hot, and the road blistering the rubber on those thin tires. Thats another thing. Better have 3 spares or a fixit kit out there. They blew 2 tires already. Each time they had to unload everything to change it. The last 5 miles to the waterhole was uphill. This stretch was starting the uphill climb to the edge of the Sierras. By todays standards, you could whiz up this in 5 or 6 minutes. Took another half hour or so. 100 yards to go.....steam roaring out of the radiator, noises starting...click click clunk clunk Clunk, RAP RAP BAM! BAM! BAM! BA.......SHSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..rrrrrrrrrrr rrrrr
rrr r ..........The engine stops, the car comes to a steaming halt. Ever heard a rod start knocking? You know the sound. The one that makes your stomach cringe, and your heart pound. At least you could walk to your local pay phone if it finally blew. But out there?.......fuck. Grandpa knew what it was. He was sick. They'd been on the road for 2 weeks already, and not a fun two weeks either. I'm sure he had the world on his shoulders. But grandpa was a TOUGH old Irishman.
One of the reasons they headed for California was the oilfields in Taft California. Taft is still to this day, a place that brings to mind, visions of the Oaklahoma oil fields. Dry old hills, with a thousand of those oil pumps that look like a herd of T rex dinosaurs. The southwest, especially Oaklahoma and Texas are covered with them. They're the lifeblood of American drivers, and plastics consumers, which as we know, everything these days are made of.
Grandpa was a steel worker. Big, strong, and a mean MOFO too. He was a steel man, and worked building the dericks and doing millwright stuff. Dad said, to make ends meet, sometimes grandpa would go to a local saloon where the oil and steelworkers would drink their paychecks away. Among other things. He carried a 100lb anvil with him. It had a square hole about the size of your finger for sticking forging forms into. He'd throw it on the floor and bet anyone he could throw it 20' with his little finger. There was ALWAYS someone to bet on payday. Hell, $20 was a lot of money in those days. Especially if you were working for 15 cents an hour. Looked like a sure thing to them. Young people don't understand minimum wage now was a fortune back then. Ha, they'ed called you a dreamer if you told them one day wages would approach $10 hour. But he'd been doin this since he came to America. He knew he could throw it. No one believed it, especially if you saw a 100lb anvil. He didn't do this often, but it kept his family fed in hard times. Yea, he was tough alright, but he was no mechanic. Dad said they knew it was bad though. And they were almost out of water. Grandpa sent Dad and Aunt Pat to fill the water bags. They might have to drink that putrid sulfer smelling shit. Beats dieing in the desert though.
I remember those bags, even in the 50's. We'd hang em out the window of the Olds, to keep the water cool by evaporation. They were like a canvas burlap bag. But the ones dad and Aunt pat carried were much bigger. Like 5 gallon. Now, walk for a mile or so in that heat uphill, fill the bags with water, and walk back...hell, it was a chore. They carried two each. Enough to fill the radiator, and some leftover for the Sierras, and some to drink if they ran out on the next leg of this journey. But now the task at hand. The engine. What to do?
Even not being a mechanic, grandpa knew it was a rod bearing. Typical stuff back then. Oil was barely refined, seldom changed, and always low as seals were just as bad and untechnical as a Model T. But so were the tolerances on the bearings. They all knew what was first. Unload the truck. It was getting towards sundown though. Thankgod for little miracles.. time for the lanterns. And dinner. Tomorrow they would tackle the engine. But for now, it was saturday night, and the treat for the week for dinner. Canned bacon and beans. Rarely on this trip did they have any meat. Hell, you couldn't carry it with you. Most days it was dried biscuits and canned milk gravy or karo syrup. Dad learned to hate it. After all, eat anything for 10 years and the thought will make your stomach turn. He still won't allow Karo syrup in the house. Or canned bacon and beans. Nosiree. He still likes bisquits and gravy though. I learned to like it myself, especially sausage gravy. No such thing then though.
The next morning, it was time to face the music. Again, we are spoiled. Most guys have a set of modern wrenchs and socket set etc. They didn't even have a jack. Just a couple of old spanner wrenchs, a pipe wrench , an old pair of pliers and a flatblade screwdriver. But cars weren't high tech either. Simple bolts and nuts. But no matter, if you ain't got the right size, you improvise. Your life depends on it. Either ya do or die.
Like I said, granpa wasn't a mechanic, which was probably good, as fate determined this was the day that would forever change the direction of my Dads life. That wasn't a good morning either. Heat and time had turned what little food they ate into miserable stomach aches for most everybody. Very little clean water to wash it down with either, or wash your hands, or cloths. You'd think by then, in the 20th century, a lot had changed. Ha, maybe for some folks. As far as they were concerned, they might as well been on a wagon train. Granpa was real sick. With dad and his brother being the oldest, it fell to them to get em out of this delima, and it was a delima. Sun wasn't up yet. Early to bed, early to rise as they say. Besides, better get started before the sun came up. It gets hot quick. REAL hot.
Well folks, thats about it for the moment. Now, I know your asking yourself, "just what the fuck has this got to do with this forum and the 60 chord system?.... Not much folks. Think of it as the cartoon before the main feature....except the main film broke...hahahahaha! Just kiddin. Hang in there. BTW, think of the 60 chord system as a modern day set of wrenchs and sockets. And the pentatonic scale as that ole pipewrench. I think you get the picture. Well, never said I was very good with analogies, but it will have to do. Till tonight. Time to have a flywheel turned. Thanks for "bearing" with me. Later.
Wrenchingly yours
fitZ
The trip home from Aunt Pats was miserable. I'd already become accoustomed to the San Francisco Bay Area weather, and here we were going back to the Sacramento Valley. It was at least 105 degrees when we hit the valley that day. But the Bay area had, mild temperatures, mild breezes, beautiful summer days, and most of the time the Bay was visible. Aunt Pats house was way up on a hill overlooking the whole Bay and the city of Oakland. You had to have money to live up there. As it is today, the have's get, the havenots do not. But I was never aware of that too much. Shit, I was the son of an Navy enlisted man. I didn't know jack diddley squat. For those of you who don't know what enlisted means, it means he wasn't an officer.
My Dad wasn't educated. In fact, he was a poor kid from Corning California. His childhood was a perfect example of the Grapes of Wrath, if you are familiar with Steinbeck's book. Just to understand where my Dad came from, I read it once. Of course there was the movie too. Dad said Steinbeck's version of the times was like someone visiting bombed out Germany after the war, and describing the aftermath and then going home to their luxury penthouse. They didn't have a clue about the war itself.
For those of you who don't know what it was about, it described one familys escape from the Midwest dustbowl during the depression in the early 1930's. Living through it was probably the light that led Dads eagerness to forget it and climb out of it. He climbed above it but never forgot it . It bestowed upon him a view of life and the world at large, that was...lets just say biased to say the least. But tempered with reality, fortitude, and love. Add being a second generation Irish imigrant to that and you get a man grateful for what he has today, which is a far cry from what he grew up with. Let me give you a clue.
If you saw the Grapes of Wrath movie, no doubt you saw the 20's Model T Ford pickup, loaded 8 feet high with a familys belongings, 5 or 6 shoeless kids, grandma, and the family dog, all crammed on the back of this truck and the parents in the cab, headed for the "Golden" state of California from the depths of hell known as Oaklahoma. And believe me, if you've ever witnessed a sandstorm like during the dustbowl, you would call it hell. Dad said in one week, their farm was covered in 2 feet of sand. It left thousands homeless. And during the depression to boot. Anyway, dads family were the characters and their trip was the epitome of Steinbecks saga.
Now, I don't know about you, but the thought of making a 2000 mile trip in a modern car on modern roads, gives me a sense of trepidation as it is. And I've made plenty of trips, some across the breadth of the whole USA, and one we even traveled pretty much the same roads as Dad did on their trip west, when he was a kid. Most of it on the historic "Route 66" of the song fame. Every time I hear the tune, it reminds me of those days and trips. Although, that was in the 50's, in a "modern" 1952 Oldsmobile sedan. Hahahaha! Pure luxury compared to dads trip as a kid. Motels, restaurants, GASOLINE, sidetrips and ice cream stops was what we had. They had migrant camps, firepit cooking, and side trips to watering holes and gas stations. Imagine crossing 200 miles of the Mohave desert in a Model T under the afore mentioned conditions. Let me tell you ONE of the experiences they went through to get to California, the land of plenty. Ha! Like dad says, for who?
First, I've got to apologize. I seem to forget the web is worldwide, and being so sheltered most of my life, my world has been pretty much the Sacramento Valley in California for 40 years. I forget that most of you may have never heard of Sacramento, let alone some of the other places I mention. Let me draw a word map. Oaklahoma is a State in the middle of the United States. California is another State 2000 miles west, with the Pacific ocean along the whole length of the western coast of California. Sacramento is the capitol of California, which lies in the middle of an 800 mile long agricultural valley that runs north to south from Redding on the north end to Bakersfield on the south end. It is literally a deep valley bordered by Sierra mountains on East side, and the coastal range on the west. That is the Sacramento valley. Between Oaklahoma and California is pretty much flatlands with a few mountains untill you reach the Sierras, and believe me, the Sierras are high. But before you cross them, you gotta cross the Mohave desert. It was half way across this desert that Dad discovered his greatest and god given skill.
You know, people now days, especially younger people, haven't a clue to how spoiled they are. Gasoline stations on every corner, billions of cars to choose from, lots of entertainment, tv, radio, dvd's, cd's, computers, and lord, guitars by the millions....shit. On the day that dad and family started across the Mohave, there was ONE little gas station, and the next was a whopping 180 miles away. Might as well have been a light year. Now, I don't know about you, but facing 180 miles of desert in a Model T Ford, with temperatures souring as high as 125 degrees, would be nothing less than worrisome, if not downright scary. Fact is, you could fucking die out there in a day. PERIOD. With 6 kids, 3 adults, loaded to the hilt, in an Model T ford, you better say your prayers. And thats exactly what they did. They filled everything they had with gas, water, a little food, and headed out that morning early while it was cool. They had $14 dollars in their pocket. By 10 oclock it was sweltering. Moving at the lightning speed of 25 mile per hour, they made it down the road slowly but surely, hill by hill, cactus by cactus towards their dream.
Needless to say, with temperatures approaching 110 degrees, with a huge load, you have to stop every 30 or so miles to let that poor old 4 cylinder engine cool down. So you don't get far in a day. At that time, 180 miles was a major trip, under the best of circumstances. These were not.
The first day was uneventful. They thought they could make it to the Sierras by nightfall on the next But Murphy had something else in mind. Before they could stop for the night, they had to make it to the next water hole though. In those days, there were places passed down by word of mouth, that you could walk 100 yards or so from the road and fill your engine water bag from a small alge covered pond or small creek, to make it the next 60 or so miles. Water went quick in those temperatures, and if you boiled the engine dry, and had no water, you were in trouble. You could crack a block, or freeze up the crank, or numerous other life threatening murphys. But don't use the drinking water. Some of those ponds could poison you. Unless all else fails, DON"T use your drinking water for the car, cause you might die of dehydration. What a choice. Won't be much help out there either. No such thing as Triple A. Or a tow truck. Or a cellular Ha, if anything, you might see another car out of the whole day. Not many people cared to venture across the Mohave desert during the summer days. Especially in a Model T. Unless you were like my dads family.
By 5 or so, they were almost to the next water hole. Engine boiling hot, people boiling hot, and the road blistering the rubber on those thin tires. Thats another thing. Better have 3 spares or a fixit kit out there. They blew 2 tires already. Each time they had to unload everything to change it. The last 5 miles to the waterhole was uphill. This stretch was starting the uphill climb to the edge of the Sierras. By todays standards, you could whiz up this in 5 or 6 minutes. Took another half hour or so. 100 yards to go.....steam roaring out of the radiator, noises starting...click click clunk clunk Clunk, RAP RAP BAM! BAM! BAM! BA.......SHSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS..rrrrrrrrrrr rrrrr
rrr r ..........The engine stops, the car comes to a steaming halt. Ever heard a rod start knocking? You know the sound. The one that makes your stomach cringe, and your heart pound. At least you could walk to your local pay phone if it finally blew. But out there?.......fuck. Grandpa knew what it was. He was sick. They'd been on the road for 2 weeks already, and not a fun two weeks either. I'm sure he had the world on his shoulders. But grandpa was a TOUGH old Irishman.
One of the reasons they headed for California was the oilfields in Taft California. Taft is still to this day, a place that brings to mind, visions of the Oaklahoma oil fields. Dry old hills, with a thousand of those oil pumps that look like a herd of T rex dinosaurs. The southwest, especially Oaklahoma and Texas are covered with them. They're the lifeblood of American drivers, and plastics consumers, which as we know, everything these days are made of.
Grandpa was a steel worker. Big, strong, and a mean MOFO too. He was a steel man, and worked building the dericks and doing millwright stuff. Dad said, to make ends meet, sometimes grandpa would go to a local saloon where the oil and steelworkers would drink their paychecks away. Among other things. He carried a 100lb anvil with him. It had a square hole about the size of your finger for sticking forging forms into. He'd throw it on the floor and bet anyone he could throw it 20' with his little finger. There was ALWAYS someone to bet on payday. Hell, $20 was a lot of money in those days. Especially if you were working for 15 cents an hour. Looked like a sure thing to them. Young people don't understand minimum wage now was a fortune back then. Ha, they'ed called you a dreamer if you told them one day wages would approach $10 hour. But he'd been doin this since he came to America. He knew he could throw it. No one believed it, especially if you saw a 100lb anvil. He didn't do this often, but it kept his family fed in hard times. Yea, he was tough alright, but he was no mechanic. Dad said they knew it was bad though. And they were almost out of water. Grandpa sent Dad and Aunt Pat to fill the water bags. They might have to drink that putrid sulfer smelling shit. Beats dieing in the desert though.
I remember those bags, even in the 50's. We'd hang em out the window of the Olds, to keep the water cool by evaporation. They were like a canvas burlap bag. But the ones dad and Aunt pat carried were much bigger. Like 5 gallon. Now, walk for a mile or so in that heat uphill, fill the bags with water, and walk back...hell, it was a chore. They carried two each. Enough to fill the radiator, and some leftover for the Sierras, and some to drink if they ran out on the next leg of this journey. But now the task at hand. The engine. What to do?
Even not being a mechanic, grandpa knew it was a rod bearing. Typical stuff back then. Oil was barely refined, seldom changed, and always low as seals were just as bad and untechnical as a Model T. But so were the tolerances on the bearings. They all knew what was first. Unload the truck. It was getting towards sundown though. Thankgod for little miracles.. time for the lanterns. And dinner. Tomorrow they would tackle the engine. But for now, it was saturday night, and the treat for the week for dinner. Canned bacon and beans. Rarely on this trip did they have any meat. Hell, you couldn't carry it with you. Most days it was dried biscuits and canned milk gravy or karo syrup. Dad learned to hate it. After all, eat anything for 10 years and the thought will make your stomach turn. He still won't allow Karo syrup in the house. Or canned bacon and beans. Nosiree. He still likes bisquits and gravy though. I learned to like it myself, especially sausage gravy. No such thing then though.
The next morning, it was time to face the music. Again, we are spoiled. Most guys have a set of modern wrenchs and socket set etc. They didn't even have a jack. Just a couple of old spanner wrenchs, a pipe wrench , an old pair of pliers and a flatblade screwdriver. But cars weren't high tech either. Simple bolts and nuts. But no matter, if you ain't got the right size, you improvise. Your life depends on it. Either ya do or die.
Like I said, granpa wasn't a mechanic, which was probably good, as fate determined this was the day that would forever change the direction of my Dads life. That wasn't a good morning either. Heat and time had turned what little food they ate into miserable stomach aches for most everybody. Very little clean water to wash it down with either, or wash your hands, or cloths. You'd think by then, in the 20th century, a lot had changed. Ha, maybe for some folks. As far as they were concerned, they might as well been on a wagon train. Granpa was real sick. With dad and his brother being the oldest, it fell to them to get em out of this delima, and it was a delima. Sun wasn't up yet. Early to bed, early to rise as they say. Besides, better get started before the sun came up. It gets hot quick. REAL hot.
Well folks, thats about it for the moment. Now, I know your asking yourself, "just what the fuck has this got to do with this forum and the 60 chord system?.... Not much folks. Think of it as the cartoon before the main feature....except the main film broke...hahahahaha! Just kiddin. Hang in there. BTW, think of the 60 chord system as a modern day set of wrenchs and sockets. And the pentatonic scale as that ole pipewrench. I think you get the picture. Well, never said I was very good with analogies, but it will have to do. Till tonight. Time to have a flywheel turned. Thanks for "bearing" with me. Later.
Wrenchingly yours
fitZ
Attachments
timmerman
-------------------------
First Class Rick!!! EXecellent Post!!
Hello Rick,
Now that is why I am here, to read stories like yours. No kidding, I really do like it. Why? Oh well you know...........I am from the Netherlands, to you probably known as Holland, and as a child I got fascinated by pop-music,jet-planes, England and anything coming out of the USA.
So here we are and you are posting stories from California, the Golden State..............well yes it probably is not all roses eh?
I can seen the Steinbeck elements in your writing, I do not mean stylewise, more just the decriptive parts of the landscape and the events.
I enjoy these things as it is life, talking about boxes, equipment and.............well that may be fun as well from time to time, but postings like yours give a bit more scope:
Just think of what this thread has been through so far: Questions, just some fun and people just talking to each other instead of folks just wanting to hear themselves. You get us to communicate here and learn about the USA, and with you being Irish you may have a different point of view about your country.
One day I hope to live in the place where you are now..............Oh well you now may tell me not to come as it is not all that great Life is just too short and this planet has some beautiful spots which are worth visititing, and in some places you may like to stay a little longer so...........................
Looking forward to the next one Patrick!
Cheers,
Eddie
Hello Rick,
Now that is why I am here, to read stories like yours. No kidding, I really do like it. Why? Oh well you know...........I am from the Netherlands, to you probably known as Holland, and as a child I got fascinated by pop-music,jet-planes, England and anything coming out of the USA.
So here we are and you are posting stories from California, the Golden State..............well yes it probably is not all roses eh?
I can seen the Steinbeck elements in your writing, I do not mean stylewise, more just the decriptive parts of the landscape and the events.
I enjoy these things as it is life, talking about boxes, equipment and.............well that may be fun as well from time to time, but postings like yours give a bit more scope:
Just think of what this thread has been through so far: Questions, just some fun and people just talking to each other instead of folks just wanting to hear themselves. You get us to communicate here and learn about the USA, and with you being Irish you may have a different point of view about your country.
One day I hope to live in the place where you are now..............Oh well you now may tell me not to come as it is not all that great
Life is just too short and this planet has some beautiful spots which are worth visititing, and in some places you may like to stay a little longer so...........................Looking forward to the next one Patrick!
Cheers,
Eddie
HangDawg
bUnGhOlIo
Bump!...................................
RICK FITZPATRICK
New member
Arrrrrrrgggggggrrrrrrr!!!!
Howdy folks, well, needless to say I didn't get back here when I thought I could. I took the flywheel down to get it surfaced, and picked up the new clutch/pressure plate kit. When I got home, I opened the kit, and sure enough, there was a nice little installation instruction booklet with it.
Now normally, you look through one of these things and it has a few little details that are important, but if you're familiar with what you're doin, a brief glance tells you theres nothing you don't already know, or the thing is self explanitory. Like a toaster, or such. Not this one. I don't know who wrote this, and I'm certainly no expert on clutchs, but ... holy moly...this one was great. Told all kinds of tips.
Thing is, the clutch is one of those things that if ya don't do it right, your fucked. And theres plenty of things to fuck it up if you are not aware of it in the first place. I found at least four things I did wrong taking this beast out. First off, ya gotta remove the transmission CORRECTLY, which in itself is a #$%$(*^ pain in the ass. Getting the car high enough to slide the transmission out wasn't bad. But as usual, Muphy lives under the hood of a car, like an Irish Leprichan.
Just waiting to make your day. This job was no exception. Each and every little phase was enough to piss me off. I'm no youngster so just climbing out from under the car is an exercise in itself. Especially when the garage has so many woodworking tools that it leaves very little room for the car. I own my own woodworking businesss so I have tons of big machines that fill every nook and cranny of my shop/garage. Squeeze in, squeeze out.
Phase one. Set out all the necessary tools. Ha! Now Dad has been a mechanic all his life, so growing up was a lesson in "mechanics 101" for me. When I got old enough to own a car, I also began to see, unless you got enough money put your car in a pro garage, then be prepared to DIY. Over the years Dad has taught me everything including rebuilding an engine. Never a transmission though. Over the years I've amassed a good set of mechanics tools. But for a home mechanic, like the 60 chord system, improvisation is the name of the game, cause some jobs require special tools. No exception here.
Phase two...remove drive line. This car is my daughter in laws 86 Mustang
Simple in theory. PITA in reality. This driveline has a harmonic balancer for the front U-joint, so the only one with bolts is the rear one. No prob. Done it plenty of times over the years. Hmmmm...but these bolt heads have a 12 point indexing pattern on them. Leave it to Ford. They do things their own way. Takes a special tool #40(ST40). Hmm, no such animal in tool box.
Not much room to get it on with an extension if I even had it either. As usual. GM U-joints, at least on early models have a simple U shaped bracket over the bearings. Small 3/8 bolts too. These MOFO appear to be 1/2" 12 point directly through a plate into the rear end. No prob. . Climb out from under car(CO)Get socket. Climb under car(CU). Ok, look for socket. No such luck. 6 point yea, but no 12 point. BUT, I have a 12 point box end wrench.
Great. Ok, lets get it done.(Lgid) CU. Hmmm, damn these are tight. Need what dad calls a "convincer", which is MORE leverage. I have a few pipes for this, but it has to fit over the other end of the wrench. And you need to use the smallest one possible to keep it tight on the wrench. CO. Find the pipes and pick one. Hmmm, looks good. CU. Damn, doesn't fit. CO. Next size. CU. Cool. Lgid. Slide it over the wrench, and give it a yank to break it loose. Fuck. These mothas are tight. Yank harder. POP!! YOWWWWW!!Damn cheap box end splits and I smash my knuckles into the frame. Cold steel. Blood drips from first cut of the day.
Dads lesson #37. What is your hand going to meet in the event of failure.
I forgot. CO. Clean wound and bandage. Find new wrench. Fuck, no such luck. I have spares for some, but not a 1/2" 12 point. Plan B. Closest size in Metric. 13mm. Cool. CU. It fits. Ok, YANK. Cool, it moves. Now to remove. Good old ford. They're an 1 1/2" long. I turn, still tight. Again. Still tight. Again, and again and again...1/4 turn at a time. Fuck. My kingdom for a socket and ratchet. Finally comes out. Crap...no wonder. Ford forethought. Locktight on the threads. Gloom..3 bolts to go....Job toughness indicator #1. Lgtd. Takes an 1/2 hour.
Phase 2. I don't know if you've ever removed a transmission from a car, but it ain't just the bellhousing bolts that has to be removed. There are TONS of little doowhackys and thingamagigs, all of which have their own little quirks and take special tool #154 through #197. AND need special Manual instruction #43 through 62. The clutch cable is no exception.
I love the internet. Just punch into the search engine what ever it is your looking for and VOILA! I punch in 86 Mustang. Cool. Tons of sites to find out anything you need. I find a diagram and instructions. CU dash to look at clutch pedal bracket and cable. Ha!! Need flashlight. CO. Hmm, batterys dead.
Find drop light. Bulb dead. Get new bulb. CU dash. Fuck I hate working under dashes. NEVER enough room to squeeze in front of the seat, and under the steering wheel, and even if you are a Black Belt in Yoga, your gonna use muscles that have long since expired from use since you were a tree climbing youngster. They're screaming at me this morning. Not to mention the sore pressure points from laying on the garage floor...over and over and over. Ha!
Forgive my old fart complaints. Time for Tylonol.
Ok, got the stuff ready. Instructions. Remove the cawl(WTF?) and cable terminal ...right... Can't get one hand up in that cave let alone a pair of pliers. Plan B. Go to other end of cable at transmission. COCU. Hmmmm..Cable terminates through bell housing. Remove plastic throwout bearing arm cover. Simple. One bolt. There it is. Easy...uh...wtf...how to remove nylon cable bushing through bell housing? Dads lesson #1. Look. Look again. Look once more. Investigate. VOILA! Simple...looks like two parts, reality shows its one...just push through hole towards engine. Cool. Lift cable terminator out through slip hole. Done dea(DD). CO.
Phase 3. Remove Starter. CU Easy...three starter bolts into bell housing, but need socket for hot wire terminal bolt CO. Tool table starting to get ambushed. Re organize for easy visual of target tool. DD. Get socket. CU. Crap, no room for ratchet, CO. Get box wrench. CU. DD. Now for starter bolts.
Need 9/16 socket. CO. DD. CU. First bolt ...find leverage point for ratchet. DD
Not enough. Get pipe. CO. small one...CU...DD, I convince it to move. Two more. Different leverage points. No room. Crap. Shorter pipe or box end. Shorter pipe. CO. DD. CU. .....forget lesson #3. Make sure socket is fully on bolt head and straight with bolt. forget lesson #37. Yank....#$%$%^*&@!!
Knuckle is introduced to bell housing flange. Cut #2, CO.. cleanandbandage(CB).CU. LGTD. Correct proceedure and finish. DD.
Phase 4. Bell housing bolts. 6, 4 of which are located easy to get to(etgt), 2 of which are RMOFOCD locations(rotton MOFO car designers!!) There should be a law that states a car designer has to work on his design for 2 weeks after manufacture. Ha! 4 are easy. DD. Last two...wait. If these are removed,
transmission may move....better check all other thingamabobs(tngmb) Oh. Hmmmm, stick shift on floor. Can't move transmission rearwards without removing stick shift lever. ????? CO. Internet investigation(Ii). No such luck(NSL) Lesson #1.(L1) Climb in car(CI). hmmm. Remove knob? Cool, just threaded. Now for leather cover. L1. Hmmm, no bolts. Think how RMOFOCD
would hide them. COCU. L1. cool, 3 bolts through floor deck.. CO-CI. L1 Plastic cover on shift lever enclosure with no bolts. Think. Ah. Pry up at edge..snap! Cool L1 works. Hidden snap fasteners. Hides bolt on leather flange. CO. Get ratchet/socket. CI. Remove. Leather flex cover slides up shaft.......part way. WTF. L1..oh, tngmb in way. Have to remove complete shift lever from transmission. L1 CO get different size socket(gdss) Guess size. CI Wrong. CO gdss. CI. Remove bolts. Hmmm WTF. Shift lever in first gear. Better put in neutral to remove. DD. Remove. Cool. Back to Phase 4.
COCU. Remember ratchet. COCI COCU. Fuck. Getting sore.(GS) Hmmm, favorite Dad saying comes to mind when Phase and sequence memory suffers failure...."What town are we in?"(WTAWI) Oh..2 BH bolts. Oh yea, the RMOFOCD locations. Shitdamn!(%@^) The two top bolts with 2 fucking inchs between the heads and the firewall. Decide to take a break and think about it while I have a smoke(tsb...aka...take smoke break) CO.
Ok lgtd, how to get to those bolts. Ahhhhhhh, L1...cool, 2 long extensions with Ujoint drive for socket and ratchet. Gather and CU. Same ole. These bolts are torqued tight. From undernieth, its about 18" from a clear space for ratchet leverage up to the bolt heads. And theres all kinds of protrusions and tgmb's to get in the way. Manuver the whole kit and kabootal(kk)up to the bolthead. Try to put the socket on while it in turn is connected to a Ujoint. Fiddlefuck(ff) with it for a minute. Fuck. DD. Time for convincer. Dm. Forgot. Try to hang the kk off the nut. No such luck.(nsl) %@^ ..Lay it down and CO.
Find convincer to fit. DD, CU. Re ff with kk. DD. Lgtd. Convince bolts they should turn. Forget lesson #37. Sockets on Ujoints with extensions slip easily from misalignment. Plenty of room for free path hand recovery. Avoid cut #3 and CB. Try again. DD. One to go. Same ole. Convince bolt and start to remove. Dads lesson #57 comes to mind. "Think before moving heavy objects to point of no recovery!!" CRAP!! Something tells me alzhiemers is setting in.
Ok, time to support the tranny AND the engine. Oh my. What do I have? Hmmmm. Time to tsb. ...which is a good place to stop this story for the moment. Hell, haven't even got back to Dads lifes purpose story
Oh well, side trips you know. Hell, haven't got to the purpose of this thread yet...fuck. 60 chords and a journey. What else is new? Life is that way. I have tons of things trailing behind me. Studios, practice, shops, woodworking projects and the faithful HONEY DO's....you know..honey do this, and honey do that...hahahaha. Tons of em. Ok guys. So much for the moment. Still got freeze plugs to replace, which was the whole point of this excuse for not gettin back here sooner in the FIRST PLACE. Meandering brainfart syndrome.
I tell ya, its tough gettin old.
Well, hope your not getting too bored with this shit. We'll get to the 60 soon enough. Hell, took me 25 yrs. Later
fitZ
Howdy folks, well, needless to say I didn't get back here when I thought I could. I took the flywheel down to get it surfaced, and picked up the new clutch/pressure plate kit. When I got home, I opened the kit, and sure enough, there was a nice little installation instruction booklet with it.Now normally, you look through one of these things and it has a few little details that are important, but if you're familiar with what you're doin, a brief glance tells you theres nothing you don't already know, or the thing is self explanitory. Like a toaster, or such. Not this one. I don't know who wrote this, and I'm certainly no expert on clutchs, but ...
holy moly...this one was great. Told all kinds of tips. Thing is, the clutch is one of those things that if ya don't do it right, your fucked. And theres plenty of things to fuck it up if you are not aware of it in the first place. I found at least four things I did wrong taking this beast out. First off, ya gotta remove the transmission CORRECTLY, which in itself is a #$%$(*^ pain in the ass. Getting the car high enough to slide the transmission out wasn't bad. But as usual, Muphy lives under the hood of a car, like an Irish Leprichan.
Just waiting to make your day. This job was no exception. Each and every little phase was enough to piss me off. I'm no youngster so just climbing out from under the car is an exercise in itself. Especially when the garage has so many woodworking tools that it leaves very little room for the car. I own my own woodworking businesss so I have tons of big machines that fill every nook and cranny of my shop/garage. Squeeze in, squeeze out.
Phase one. Set out all the necessary tools. Ha! Now Dad has been a mechanic all his life, so growing up was a lesson in "mechanics 101" for me. When I got old enough to own a car, I also began to see, unless you got enough money put your car in a pro garage, then be prepared to DIY. Over the years Dad has taught me everything including rebuilding an engine. Never a transmission though. Over the years I've amassed a good set of mechanics tools. But for a home mechanic, like the 60 chord system, improvisation is the name of the game, cause some jobs require special tools. No exception here.
Phase two...remove drive line. This car is my daughter in laws 86 Mustang
Simple in theory. PITA in reality. This driveline has a harmonic balancer for the front U-joint, so the only one with bolts is the rear one. No prob. Done it plenty of times over the years. Hmmmm...but these bolt heads have a 12 point indexing pattern on them. Leave it to Ford. They do things their own way. Takes a special tool #40(ST40). Hmm, no such animal in tool box.
Not much room to get it on with an extension if I even had it either. As usual. GM U-joints, at least on early models have a simple U shaped bracket over the bearings. Small 3/8 bolts too. These MOFO appear to be 1/2" 12 point directly through a plate into the rear end. No prob. . Climb out from under car(CO)Get socket. Climb under car(CU). Ok, look for socket. No such luck. 6 point yea, but no 12 point. BUT, I have a 12 point box end wrench.
Great. Ok, lets get it done.(Lgid) CU. Hmmm, damn these are tight. Need what dad calls a "convincer", which is MORE leverage. I have a few pipes for this, but it has to fit over the other end of the wrench. And you need to use the smallest one possible to keep it tight on the wrench. CO. Find the pipes and pick one. Hmmm, looks good. CU. Damn, doesn't fit. CO. Next size. CU. Cool. Lgid. Slide it over the wrench, and give it a yank to break it loose. Fuck. These mothas are tight. Yank harder. POP!! YOWWWWW!!Damn cheap box end splits and I smash my knuckles into the frame. Cold steel. Blood drips from first cut of the day.
Dads lesson #37. What is your hand going to meet in the event of failure.
I forgot. CO. Clean wound and bandage. Find new wrench. Fuck, no such luck. I have spares for some, but not a 1/2" 12 point. Plan B. Closest size in Metric. 13mm. Cool. CU. It fits. Ok, YANK. Cool, it moves. Now to remove. Good old ford. They're an 1 1/2" long. I turn, still tight. Again. Still tight.
Again, and again and again...1/4 turn at a time. Fuck. My kingdom for a socket and ratchet. Finally comes out. Crap...no wonder. Ford forethought. Locktight on the threads. Gloom..3 bolts to go....Job toughness indicator #1. Lgtd. Takes an 1/2 hour. Phase 2. I don't know if you've ever removed a transmission from a car, but it ain't just the bellhousing bolts that has to be removed. There are TONS of little doowhackys and thingamagigs, all of which have their own little quirks and take special tool #154 through #197.
AND need special Manual instruction #43 through 62. The clutch cable is no exception. I love the internet. Just punch into the search engine what ever it is your looking for and VOILA! I punch in 86 Mustang. Cool. Tons of sites to find out anything you need. I find a diagram and instructions. CU dash to look at clutch pedal bracket and cable. Ha!! Need flashlight. CO. Hmm, batterys dead.
Find drop light. Bulb dead. Get new bulb. CU dash. Fuck I hate working under dashes. NEVER enough room to squeeze in front of the seat, and under the steering wheel, and even if you are a Black Belt in Yoga, your gonna use muscles that have long since expired from use since you were a tree climbing youngster. They're screaming at me this morning. Not to mention the sore pressure points from laying on the garage floor...over and over and over. Ha!
Forgive my old fart complaints. Time for Tylonol.
Ok, got the stuff ready. Instructions. Remove the cawl(WTF?) and cable terminal ...right...
Can't get one hand up in that cave let alone a pair of pliers. Plan B. Go to other end of cable at transmission. COCU. Hmmmm..Cable terminates through bell housing. Remove plastic throwout bearing arm cover. Simple. One bolt. There it is. Easy...uh...wtf...how to remove nylon cable bushing through bell housing? Dads lesson #1. Look. Look again. Look once more. Investigate. VOILA! Simple...looks like two parts, reality shows its one...just push through hole towards engine. Cool. Lift cable terminator out through slip hole. Done dea(DD). CO.Phase 3. Remove Starter. CU Easy...three starter bolts into bell housing, but need socket for hot wire terminal bolt CO. Tool table starting to get ambushed. Re organize for easy visual of target tool. DD. Get socket. CU. Crap, no room for ratchet, CO. Get box wrench. CU. DD. Now for starter bolts.
Need 9/16 socket. CO. DD. CU. First bolt ...find leverage point for ratchet. DD
Not enough. Get pipe. CO. small one...CU...DD, I convince it to move. Two more. Different leverage points. No room. Crap. Shorter pipe or box end. Shorter pipe. CO. DD. CU. .....forget lesson #3. Make sure socket is fully on bolt head and straight with bolt. forget lesson #37. Yank....#$%$%^*&@!!
Knuckle is introduced to bell housing flange. Cut #2, CO.. cleanandbandage(CB).CU. LGTD.
Correct proceedure and finish. DD.Phase 4. Bell housing bolts. 6, 4 of which are located easy to get to(etgt), 2 of which are RMOFOCD locations(rotton MOFO car designers!!) There should be a law that states a car designer has to work on his design for 2 weeks after manufacture. Ha! 4 are easy. DD. Last two...wait. If these are removed,
transmission may move....better check all other thingamabobs(tngmb) Oh. Hmmmm, stick shift on floor. Can't move transmission rearwards without removing stick shift lever. ????? CO. Internet investigation(Ii). No such luck(NSL) Lesson #1.(L1) Climb in car(CI). hmmm. Remove knob? Cool, just threaded. Now for leather cover. L1. Hmmm, no bolts. Think how RMOFOCD
would hide them. COCU. L1. cool, 3 bolts through floor deck.. CO-CI. L1 Plastic cover on shift lever enclosure with no bolts. Think. Ah. Pry up at edge..snap! Cool L1 works. Hidden snap fasteners. Hides bolt on leather flange. CO. Get ratchet/socket. CI. Remove. Leather flex cover slides up shaft.......part way. WTF. L1..oh, tngmb in way. Have to remove complete shift lever from transmission. L1 CO get different size socket(gdss) Guess size. CI Wrong. CO gdss. CI. Remove bolts. Hmmm WTF. Shift lever in first gear. Better put in neutral to remove. DD. Remove. Cool. Back to Phase 4.
COCU. Remember ratchet. COCI COCU. Fuck. Getting sore.(GS) Hmmm, favorite Dad saying comes to mind when Phase and sequence memory suffers failure...."What town are we in?"(WTAWI)
Oh..2 BH bolts. Oh yea, the RMOFOCD locations. Shitdamn!(%@^) The two top bolts with 2 fucking inchs between the heads and the firewall. Decide to take a break and think about it while I have a smoke(tsb...aka...take smoke break) CO.Ok lgtd, how to get to those bolts. Ahhhhhhh, L1...cool, 2 long extensions with Ujoint drive for socket and ratchet. Gather and CU. Same ole. These bolts are torqued tight. From undernieth, its about 18" from a clear space for ratchet leverage up to the bolt heads. And theres all kinds of protrusions and tgmb's to get in the way. Manuver the whole kit and kabootal(kk)up to the bolthead. Try to put the socket on while it in turn is connected to a Ujoint. Fiddlefuck(ff) with it for a minute. Fuck. DD. Time for convincer. Dm. Forgot. Try to hang the kk off the nut. No such luck.(nsl) %@^ ..Lay it down and CO.
Find convincer to fit. DD, CU. Re ff with kk. DD. Lgtd. Convince bolts they should turn. Forget lesson #37. Sockets on Ujoints with extensions slip easily from misalignment. Plenty of room for free path hand recovery. Avoid cut #3 and CB. Try again. DD. One to go. Same ole. Convince bolt and start to remove. Dads lesson #57 comes to mind. "Think before moving heavy objects to point of no recovery!!" CRAP!! Something tells me alzhiemers is setting in.
Ok, time to support the tranny AND the engine. Oh my. What do I have? Hmmmm. Time to tsb. ...which is a good place to stop this story for the moment. Hell, haven't even got back to Dads lifes purpose story
Oh well, side trips you know. Hell, haven't got to the purpose of this thread yet...fuck. 60 chords and a journey. What else is new? Life is that way. I have tons of things trailing behind me. Studios, practice, shops, woodworking projects and the faithful HONEY DO's....you know..honey do this, and honey do that...hahahaha. Tons of em. Ok guys. So much for the moment. Still got freeze plugs to replace, which was the whole point of this excuse for not gettin back here sooner in the FIRST PLACE. Meandering brainfart syndrome.
I tell ya, its tough gettin old.
Well, hope your not getting too bored with this shit. We'll get to the 60 soon enough. Hell, took me 25 yrs.
LaterfitZ
guitar junkie
Guitar User.
keep it comin
hey Rick keep it comin i enjoy reading it and i love the story about the anvil as i have worked with metal most of my short life now (as well as wood) i too kind of started with a seet of the pants guitar course that amounted to learning the most useful chords first (G C D) i then worked my way into more chords and better guitars as time rolled on and even other stringed toys such and Mandolins and fiddles as well as bass and banjo along with piano (that last one i still suck at) life has smiled on me though and it looks like in next few months i can start my first CD! woo boy! i would like to thank you for taking the time to make many posts on this website over the years and i have learned much from many of them so thank you very much. well the midnight writer must get some sleep so i will read you later. keep it comin
Guitar Junkie .
hey Rick keep it comin i enjoy reading it and i love the story about the anvil as i have worked with metal most of my short life now (as well as wood) i too kind of started with a seet of the pants guitar course that amounted to learning the most useful chords first (G C D) i then worked my way into more chords and better guitars as time rolled on and even other stringed toys such and Mandolins and fiddles as well as bass and banjo along with piano (that last one i still suck at)
life has smiled on me though and it looks like in next few months i can start my first CD! woo boy! i would like to thank you for taking the time to make many posts on this website over the years and i have learned much from many of them so thank you very much. well the midnight writer must get some sleep so i will read you later. keep it comin Guitar Junkie .
