2021 Lights

There’s a story I like to share, because it’s a fantastic example of an old couple argument.  It went something like this:

Once upon a time, LED lightbulbs weren’t a major player yet, and it was in that brief period where the world was adjusting to CFLs, and old conspiracy theorists everywhere were collapsing from ruptured aneurysms after the government started mandating energy consumption limits on illumination.  Of all the things to worry over, and it took an NSA defector to get the general public to even acknowledge the government’s wholesale data mining of citizens’ digital lives–which, I might add, ended with the general public retaining their complete indifference.  But those lightbulbs!  The government’s up to something and we should be angry!

Don’t step on rattlesnakes. They bite.

A more rational complaint with early CFLs was their color spectrum.  Bright white lighting is but one source of the eternal migraine hell office workers must endure (a close second to bad bosses), and people were understandably reluctant to replicate those conditions at home.  And so began the lightbulb stockpiling (and, you know, because of whatever the government was up to).

Now, as an aquarium keeper, I wondered why no one would make a more yellowish bulb, for the variety of different colored fluorescent T8s I’d kept in my tanks over the years had clearly demonstrated that the problem was already figured out.

I didn’t have to wait long.  Manufacturers started making CFLs in more pleasant shades, and even printed the Kelvin rating.  But the damage was done.  It seemed no one trusted them, nefarious government plans notwithstanding.

Liz was one such slow adopter–not that she ever suspected crazy government plans.  Rational suspicion of plausible evil government plans, sure, like what most normal people have.  Nay, it came down to bad experiences with the early bulbs and the fact that the choice to use incandescents still existed, so why change?  The only reason I cared myself was because the old bulbs burnt out so damn quick and were expensive to replace.  There was a lightbulb cartel you know, which mandated an artificial lifespan of a maximum of 1000 hours.  Not a government conspiracy maybe, but certainly mafia-corporate shenanigans.

You want me to extend lightbulb life on this–the day of my daughter’s wedding?

To further place me into illumination cost woes, apartment wiring was generally limited to one switch-enabled outlet for a living room.  One lamp on one switch.  Turning the home from perpetual twilight into something by which one could actually read required a 250 watt bulb.  These bulbs were not cheap, and as mentioned before, burnt out quickly.  So I explored those new-fangled CFLs–a higher upfront cost, but a much longer operational  life.

Being sure to buy a low-K bulb, I installed a CFL of the same lumen rating the next time the incandescent burnt out.  Liz complained–when I suggested a CFL, when I was buying the CFL, and after I had installed the CFL.  I couldn’t tell if the difference was significant or there was bias.  So I hatched a plan: use the complainer as a test subject in a very brief blind study.

I ran back to the store and bought another incandescent, and swapped it when Liz wasn’t looking.  I then waited, and when she again complained about the bulb I triumphantly removed the lamp shade to reveal the same type of incandescent which had been installed previously!  Huzzah!  Turns out no one could tell the difference.  And all it took was a little bit of reverse-gaslighting my most trusted loved one.  A small price for the sake of finances.  She’d forgive me eventually.

In the meantime, I was cleared to finally start buying CFLs as old bulbs died.  And when CFLs lost their popularity to LEDs (which applied the CFL spectrum lesson immediately), there was no argument.

But…LEDs didn’t take this lesson to heart in all products.  Christmas lights were not given such discerning treatment.  And while I argued for their merits, such as longevity and more robust construction (they didn’t burn out or fail catastrophically after being put up…usually), I had to concede that they just didn’t look as good as classic incandescents.

But then Liz found a style of LEDs that resembled them.  So we switched over.  But every year she fears a return to the olden days, and buys more of that type, on the chance that the manufacturer will discontinue them.  And with more lights on hand, I put them up.  And the following year she buys more.  And I put those up too.

My point?  Well, I just find it an amusing story in marital disagreements regarding changing illumination technologies.  But she got her revenge.  Each year I spend more time crawling around on the cold roof.

Look at those classic-style LEDs. LOOK AT THEM!

May your days be merry and bright–with 2700K spectrum LEDs.

–Simon

Let’s Get Ready to Roomba!

Appliances are the servants of the masses.

How badly can that Marx quote be parodied?

Still, it’s a relevant modern take.  Appliances, created to save labor, instead become the baseline expectation.  And while they may start as a luxury for the elite, they’re soon reduced in cost and made accessible to all.  They may save labor, but do they really save us any time?  Once everyone has them, they’re no longer life hacks.  Appliances don’t give us leisure, they just provide more time with which we’re expected to do more productive tasks.  And spend more money on the appliances’ maintenance.

But for that brief period of novelty, they’re great.

I had long considered robovacs to be a novelty, for how effective could they really be?  I distinctly remember the useless Dustbuster my mother had in the kitchen–designed to quickly and cordlessly clean up isolated crumbs.  And I also remember picking the crumbs up by hand and dropping them into the unit, because it lacked the power to do anything close to vacuuming, and manually removing the debris was simpler.  And of course there was the spite factor, because mom made me use the stupid thing, and I knew those crumbs would fall out the moment she went to use it herself.

The point: battery-powered devices were simply underpowered in the 90s.

But last year a Dyson cordless was gifted, and with it the realization that technology had indeed reached the point where battery appliances were now effective, provided the user had patience with charging times.

And so, with daily sweeping required in our house due to the dog situation, and some nice Amazon gift cards in my possession, why not?

Sebastian 1.0 does a better job than I expected.  He’s sadly impervious to verbal beratement, unlike my future baby-boomer-who-can’t-retire-because-he-never-saved-for-retirement-and-social-security-went-bankrupt-Sebastian-butler/manservant, but on the other hand he’s a lot cuter.

He even drew a up a nice map to provide as a progress report.  Well done, Sebastian!  Take the rest of the day off.

Perhaps robots are the new proletariat, at least until they rise up as one and slay us.  But such would be the necessary end to any exploitative social system.  For now, they save us labor, for better or worse.  For now, they serve us.  For now, they help us maintain our superiority.  And while one day the status quo may violently crumble, when the appliances upon which we depend withdraw their labor and we’re left with little time to ponder such thoughts; I shall at least for now have very clean floors.

–Simon

Lights…Camera…

Actually the cameras came first.

Ring

Security!

And if your OCD requires that doors be checked multiple times before retiring, then why not make the task easier (instead of, you know, seeking therapy)?

Enter the garage door.  Actually no, don’t go in my garage–that’s the point here.  The garage door, when open, is a rather large access point to my home, and so confirming its closure is standard operating procedure for nightly lockdown.  And how is such verification generally completed when it’s not viewable from inside?  Why, by opening a door and peering out.  So inefficient, and doesn’t pair well with multiple checks.  Also it isn’t properly nerdy.  Surely someone had invented a product to make the task easier.

And someone had indeed: wireless smart monitors.  Translation: gadgets with unknown development histories comprised of forked open-source Linux software and limited pen-testing, which they want me to attached to my internal LAN, and link to my phone with more questionable software, that requires me to make an account with my personal info so they can send me targeted marketing.  Create network security holes in an attempt to increase physical security?  No thanks.  All I wanted was a light.

This was going to have to be DIY.

Teehee

In true Agile fashion, here were the MVP requirements:

  1. A light inside the house to indicate garage door closure.
  2. A default status of “not closed”, to send false negatives rather than positives in the event of mechanical failures.

Some internet digging revealed these handy little microswitches:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08QVGHGZF?psc=1&ref=ppx_yo2_dt_b_product_details

They’re 2 circuit switches where a spring contact controls which neutral return wire is engaged.  The sprint sets one mode as the default until the button is pressed.  So in my case, when the door closes and engages the button, that will be my closure circuit.  If there’s no pressure on the button, that’s the default open mode.

Some creative alignment and mounting

As for the lights, well, that required more research than I expected.  LED lights, in their singular form, seem to be circuit-board project related.  That was somewhat beyond the level of effort I wished to expend, so I eventually settled on some “motorcycle accent lights”.  Yes, those kind of douche beacons.  A big price to pay for the inevitable douche-related marketing suggestions Amazon will no doubt throw me in the future.

What douche would put these on his vehicle. Or douchette (sorry, a woman can do anything a man can do).

The upside to the douche lights is that it made their power requirements predictable and easy to find: 12v DC.  Power supplies were readily available.

Running wire was a non-issue as I’m rather accustomed to that task.  All that was left was figuring out a mounting setup for the lights.  I had hoped to simply house them in a fogged light fixture, but such a setup would require me to buy a light.  So again, this would be full DIY.

The internals, and I added a door activator too while I was at it
A handmade wooden housing is more rustic than my preference

I’ll revisit this in the future.  Right now this is MVP.

The downside of the lights is that they’re intentionally super bright

I’m still fussing with light filters and spackling.  I’ll get there eventually.  But for now, my OCD is slightly alleviated with a soothing green glow.

–Simon

More Garage Organization

I often wish for a kitchen that was free of aesthetic constraints.  My garage, a fully practical room, benefits greatly from this freedom.  The walls require no color coordination with landscape paintings.  Instead, they are vertical space for which to store tools.  How efficient it would be to hang cookware in a similar manner.

Workshop

Anyway, kitchen woes aside, the garage organization continues.  The Village Elder gave me an old toolbox recently, which I repurposed for a hardware junk bin.

Exploiting a child’s OCD

I outsourced the organization, which left me with some questions on the chosen categories and labeling, but it’s still better than a single junk bin.

“art stuff” is apparently pencils and Sharpies

It also weighs close to 100 pounds, so I put together a wooden cart on utility wheels.

If only the kitchen cabinets were so well-constructed.

–Simon

I Can’t See You

“Don’t ever put my fucking tools in the fucking truck!”

I think some neighbors are just meme-worthy.  This particular gem broke the day’s serenity with the sudden work renewal of the Plywood Palace.

Plywood Palace

The utterance, courtesy of The Redneck, indicated to all within a quarter mile radius that he really didn’t want his tools in his truck, nor did he ever wish anyone to put them there going forward.  Glad we cleared that up.

More importantly, it reminded me why I spent a weekend sweating in the glaring sun.

If only it were also soundproof

Almost sufficient to block out the view, which hopefully the new clematis will one day accomplish.

A very subtle barrier

Our present relationship with the neighbors notwithstanding, the openness of this particular section always bothered me.  Line of sight to our deck from other houses is at least partially obscured, except for this one, and I never much fancied the idea of them being able to casually look out any window and monitor our recreational activities through the summer.  The shed business was just the final push.

In all, the design was pretty simple.  The original 4×4 fence posts, upon 3 of which this is bolted, are buried 3 feet into quickcrete.  I’m hoping that’ll prove sufficient to support the additions, or I’ll be digging some more post holes soon.

Unfortunately, the city limits fences to 7′, and since this trellis is on the fence, it’s a de facto fence extension.  So I couldn’t quiiiite block out their upstairs windows.  But I didn’t see any restrictions on what I can put on top of the trellis, so there’s a creative solution forthcoming.

And no tools were put into trucks in the making of this trellis.

–Simon