21 Questions (from Brian’s Daily Rant)

From the archives: Back in 2003 I had three separate, count ’em 3, different blogs running on Blogger.com: The Miata Diaries, Photo of the Day & Brian’s Daily Rant. When I made the jump to a web home of my own I combined all of them, this article never made the transfer and has sitting in a file folder for the past 17 years. I don’t remember who Myla was, probably someone I swapped CD Mix discs with, and her website, A Parrot’s Meow, probably also on Blogger, is gone in the wind. Keep in mind that this was 2003, so some of the answers might be dated. For #15, the places I haven’t been to are e) & k)

I, along with a select few of the world's elite bloggers, have been chosen to participate in a questionnaire conceived and written by the talented and lovely Myla of The Parrot's Meow. Without further adieu:

1. Show your favorite digital photograph here:
Taken by hanging my arm down along the side of the car while driving & just snapping.
Miata In Motion

2. What is your motto?
Ya buy cheap, ya get cheap.

3. If you could meet any two people (living or dead), who would they be, and why?
    a) John F. Kennedy - I want to ask him if he really was boinking Marilyn Monroe.
    b) Zefram Cochrane - To ask what made him so sure his nuclear missile turned warp drive would work.

4. Creative Writing 101 (Just 5 minutes of what is on your mind.)
Five minutes of what is on my mind? This is going to be dull - and short. My high school typing class final grade exam consisted of 16 words with three mistakes. Of course that was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. We were supposed to be learning touch typing and my heart was just not in it. Something I regret everyday now as I think I would be a lot faster at what I do if I could actually type with out having to visually pick out a key, have my brain determine which finger is closest to that key and then place that finger over that key and press down. Of course I have been doing this modified 4 finger hunt and peck method for a while and I've gotten better at it that I might just be able to better that test score. And if I'm typing a repetitive phrase I can really get a roll going. One mistake though and the clicking comes to a grinding halt, where I must grab a mouse and go back to highlight the mistake to allow corrections to take place. Damn, times up? I was just getting ready to tell you such an interesting story too.

5. What you want to be most remembered for?
...not blowing up the world.

6. If you wrote a book, what would the first line be?
The crescent moon hung there, halfway up the sky between the peach colored horizon and the cobalt blue of zenith, he had a light jacket on to ward off the slight chill, it was a perfect early morning for a drive with the top down, for a drive away from it all.

7. If you were King for a day, describe your first proclamation.
All trips of less than 7 miles would have to be carried out by bicycle. I would probably rescind this proclamation after a few months. Just long enough for every subject of my Kingdom to experience what it is like to ride a bicycle in traffic, so that perhaps they would have a little more compassion for me later when I'm riding along on the road.

8. If you could change one thing about yourself, or your situation, what would it be?
I would be independently wealthy. I blame this shortcoming on my parents, if they had worked a little harder...

9. There's no genie, but you've been granted three wishes.
    a) I would make the weather everyday here in Aiken just like it was last Sunday, sunny with some clouds, high of 80 degrees, low of 55, humidity of 30% and a 5 to 10 mph wind.
    b) Computer viruses would only damage the computers of their creators.
    c) Ice cream would be good for you.

10. Last trip "out of town" you took, and when. . .
Hilton Head Island, returned just a week ago.

11. Find a word in the dictionary that you never knew before and post the definition to it here:
es·ti·vate 1- To spend the summer, as at a special place. 2- Zoology. To pass the summer in a dormant or torpid state. Kinda like what we did at Hilton Head Island.

12. What is the most daring thing you've ever done?
Get married 27 years ago.

13. Name something positively amazing (besides your birth) that happened the year you were born.
Disneyland opens in Anaheim, California.

14. Name your favorite Beatle.
George Harrison, the quiet one.

15. In 250 words (or less), answer me this:
"If money were not an object, and you were to leave tomorrow to travel around the world in 100 days, name your preferred method of travel and at least a dozen destinations you'd visit."
World, smchorld. I'd spend those 3 months acquainting (or in some cases, re-acquainting) myself with the good ol' USA via, what else, a Miata. "Hmmm, I wonder if you could hit all 48 contiguous states in just 100 days?"
    a) Highway 1 in California
    b) Vegas, baby, Vegas
    c) Grand Canyon
    d) Monument Valley
    e) Old Faithful
    f) Devil's Tower
    g) Mount Rushmore
    h) Crazy Horse Memorial
    i) Carhenge
    j) Gateway Arch
    k) Wrigley Field
    l) Niagara Falls

16. Name of the last book you read, and list your favorite passage from said book:
"That's a hell of a shiner."
Savard bolted at the sound of the voice. She wanted to turn her back, but realized it was too late. Embarrassment and shame flooded her. Anger and resentment rushed in their wake. She grabbed the sunglasses and put them back on.
Kovac stood just inside her door looking like something out of a Raymond Chandler novel: long coat with the collar turned up, hands stuffed in the pockets, an old fedora slouching down over his forehead.
"I suppose getting popped in the face is a common hazard of working IA" (Police Internal Affairs)
"If you want to see me, Sergeant, make an appointment," she said in the chilliest tone she could manage.
"I've seen you already."
Something in the way he said it made her feel vulnerable. As if he had seen something more than just the physical evidence of what had happened to her, something deeper and more important.

17. Last funny thing a child said to you.
Pass. I interact with children so infrequently that if one of them has said something funny to me, I've since forgotten it.

18. Put down one stanza from your favorite song lyric, one that has particular meaning to you, one that, had you thought of it first, would have written yourself.
They got Mount Rushmore on a cup
Everybody needs one of those
For a dollar more they'll fill it up
You can drink out of Lincoln's nose
They got the Hard Rock t-shirts, they got Elvis, too. And sooner or later, mark my words
You know they're gonna get you
Souvenirs, written by Gretchen Peters and performed by Suzy Bogguss

19. Put down your favorite movie line.
    a) Joel, you wanna know something? Every now and then say, "What the fuck." What the fuck gives you freedom. Freedom brings opportunity. Opportunity makes your future. Curtis Armstrong as Miles in "Risky Business"
    b) I've got a bad feeling about this. Almost any of the main characters in the "Star Wars" movies
    c) I distrust a close-mouthed man. He generally picks the wrong time to talk and says the wrong things. Talking's something you can't do judiciously, unless you keep in practice. Now, sir, we'll talk if you like. I'll tell you right out, I'm a man who likes talking to a man who likes to talk. Sydney Greenstreet as Kasper Gutman in the "Maltese Falcon"

20. Name the actor you'd want to portray you in a movie based on your life.
Timothy Busfield <-----------------------> Me

21. Professionally speaking, if you could do anything at all, what would you do?I have always said that I'm doing what I always wanted to do and pretty much that still holds true. I'm a draftsman and ever since my first drafting course in high school I knew. I'd like it to be a little more old school though, I sure miss putting pencil to paper.

Sport, Off-Road, Touring

The Birthday* Edition of SORT.
As of Monday, September 28, 2020 at 9:00 PM pacific time:

Sport Off-Road Touring
2006 Ford GT Heritage Edition 1983 Mercedes-Benz 280GE 1955 Chevrolet 150 2-Door Sedan
When driving what is basically a race car on the street it is required to sport a racing livery. With this we can get priority evacuation if ever a wildfire does break out close to us. This car is as old as I am, but it has had some nice updates, I should be in as good of shape.

*Yesterday was my birthday and if you didn’t send a card or at least a text, your name is coming off my Christmas Card List…

Track 20 – Stairway to Heaven

This is the last track on my Quintessential Burn II “album”, so I’m not sure what I’m going to put here next Saturday, maybe I’ll have to actually right something…so I’ll just leave you with this acoustic guitar cover of a Led Zeppelin tune you may be familiar with:

25 Years Ago – Fall 1995

Instead of reprinting an article from the Miata Magazine’s usual gang of contributors this one caught my interest because of the Oregon connection. From the places and roads mentioned, I am guessing this takes place around Eugene which is around 150 miles northwest of me as the crow flies. The community college mentioned is more than likely Lane CC and currently there is no one there named Ben Hill. There is a Tami Hill that teaches Social Sciences that I suppose could be some relation… I then googled Magomet Tavkazakov and found a guy who was the head of a Russian juice company that Pepsi bought in 2008, but from the TASS photos he looks a little old to have been in a community college in 1995.

Miata Post-Cold-War Diplomacy

– by Member Benjamin Hill

Teaching math in an Oregon community college, the most exciting part of my work day is generalaly the commute – a winding nine miles of pine-studded foothills in the cockpit of my ’92 Miata. But the college grew more interesting recently, with the arrival of an exchange teacher from Nalchik, Russia, one Magomet Tavkazakov.

Students and staff were charmed by Magomet’s good looks and mischievous smile. Despite his not quite perfect English, he was an engaging conversationalist, and began dropping by my office each morning, eager to chat about geometry and metaphysics, or to marvel about life in America.

When an Oregon miracle occurred (sunshine on a winter weekend), I called Magomet at his exchange host’s house. “Want to go hiking?”

“Okay.”

Magomet was surprised when I arrived in the Miata, top down and resplendent in my motoring cap. “Wow,” he exclaimed, but recovered deftly, producing in rapid succession from his knapsack a pair of dark glasses, a jacket, and a bootleg Beatles cassette. He fastened his seat belt, inserted the cassette, and we were off and running to the cries of George Harrison’s guitar.

Exiting town by back roads, we skirted Fern Ridge Reservoir, roared up Greenhill Road to a gorgeous view of the Coast Range, then headed south on old Lorane Highway, famous for its scenery and switchbacks. Alternating pastures and hills gave the drive a catchy syncopation, speed counterpoised to cornering with frequent quick gear changes. Traffic amounted to occa­sional ranch trucks, providing perfect excuses for high rpm passing.

When the Beatles tape ended, Magomet replaced it with Russian rock n’ roll. For miles he was mostly silent, but when he did speak, it was to praise American geography or Japanese engineering. He voiced his heartfelt approval of motor travel “open to the environment,” and I nodded in total agreement.

In an hour, we rolled through the town of Cottage Grove, then headed toward the Cascade Range. Pastures gave way to tree farms which in turn gave way to groves of second growth fir. The road passed through former mining outposts of Disston and Culp Creek, then narrowed to a single lane with turnouts, plunging deeper into the forest as the air grew sweet and humid. Though narrow, the road was well-engineered and dry. The Miata ate it up. We met no traffic, but the possibility made an enjoyable challenge of blind curves. I approached each 60+ mph, breaking and downshifting, then accelerating through the arc on a disciplined line while prepared to react in the face of an oncoming log truck.

Ten miles of slalom curves later, a hand-lettered sign marked the fork to Bohemia Saddle. The road crossed a rickety bridge, turned to gravel, and began to climb radically. On steep coarse gravel, the Miata was out of its element. I pressed ahead anyway, maintaining steady speed and praying not to “high-center.” As the Miata churned along, I was reminded of North Dakota duck hunting trips taken years ago in a 1970 Super Beetle. The Volkswagen was a nightmare on those rutted, muddy roads. But it redeemed itself the time I sailed through an unmarked T-intersection, making a sort of foamed runway landing in a field of plowed mud. A heavier vehicle would have foundered in that bog. But with its sealed underbelly the Bug doubled as a sled. I blocked the accelerator at half-throttle, opened the door and pushed with my left foot while working the clutch with my right, and sort of swam out of that field. Now here I was, swimming through gravel in a freshly waxed Miata. What an idiot I am! – that is what I was thinking.

But the roadster was game. In a few minutes we emerged at the top of a ridge, and were rewarded by a view of volcanic snowcaps. I pulled onto a turnout, stopped the engine, and reached behind me to unsnap the canopy boot. I enjoy raising the Miata’s top while still behind the wheel, with a single over-the-shoulder right arm maneuver both macho and yogic, albeit less gentle to vinyl and flesh than the method described in the manual.

With the car secured, Magomet and I set off along the ridge, moving through stands of tall trees, and catching stunning alpine view. Traversing a patch of snow, we passed the base of a waterfall, and paused to taste edible sorrel plants. As we continued to walk, we exchanged geometry brain teasers:
•Why does a mirror reverse left and right, but not up and down?
•Where is a lost explorer who walks one mile south, one mile east, and one mile north, returning to the point where he began?

Back at the car in a couple of hours, we snacked and drove slowly back down the loose gravel grade. “I like your car,” observed Magomet, for the fourth or fifth time. “Do you have a car back home in Russia?” I asked. “I had one, but I sold it.” “What kind?” He smiled. “You will think this is funny. It was a Ford Granada I bought in Germany.”

When it came, solid pavement was a relief. I pulled over, killed the engine, and handed Magomet the keys. “You drive.” Over his half­hearted objections, I chased him from the passenger seat and hinged back the top. “Maybe I shouldn’t,” he said, but he was already adjusting the mirrors.

Magomet drove, cautiously at first, and then with more confidence, his grin widening with every gear change. Our conversation touched on mathematics again, but this time the humble mathematics of proportion: “1597 cc displacement per 1225 kilograms.”

Later that month, American and Russian astronauts would rendezvous aboard the Russian space station Mir. But as we glided along with Magomet at the wheel, I couldn’t help feeling that by way of post cold-war adventure/diplomacy, my friend and I took a back seat to no one aboard my Japanese roadster.

Copyright 1995, Miata Magazine. Reprinted without permission.