PotD – RIP
February 4th, 2010 ryan
Came back to my soldering station to discover it no longer works. No clue why.

Came back to my soldering station to discover it no longer works. No clue why.

Part of this gig involves mass quantities of rent metal, discarded cables, and components with innards crushed asunder. Standards are met in the factory, careful laser-cut styrofoam inserts cradle during transit, and thick kevlar shielding insulates each part so each part can stand proudly and claim to be “ruggedized” or “mil-spec.”
Yet metals clash, pins fuse, and shorts surface. I’ll pick up a part and note thick scoring where a leatherman bit in to the soft metal of a port connector, or pin out a perfectly good looking cable only to discover the invisible sickness within.
Mundane? Sure. Expected? Of course. Each part has a little story though, and it’s my job to tell it.




Current count is 14 kills, this guy was just grubbin’ some chow. If it were up to me there’s be 14 morbidly obese mice running around but what can you do.
Son of a bitch.
I don’t often become emotionally attached to attire but good lord these were the best boots I’ve ever come across. Purchased online from a tent in Iraq circa 2002 this marked a third trip to the Middle East, not to mention their travels in Amsterdam, Germany, and dozens of foot trails across the states. Was still seeing salt from Chicago months later, leather soaking up experience as well as the elements.
Guess the rocks and heat finally bit back.
Had an identical pair sitting in a closet for the past year, not looking forward to breaking them in.


This is the part of my t-shirt that pressed against the impact area for my immunization obstacle course.

Cell shot captures a recent addition to my old grade school, the unlikely arena for today’s AV support.
Oh private school kids, you are fabulous.
Each area smelled exactly the same. More here.