Here in My Car, I Know Nothing at All, I Can Lock All My Doors Because Electric Locks Come Standard on Honda Accords........in CARS.....

So I can't get over this desire I have to learn more about cars. Or at least not sound like a total dunce when speaking of them. And unfortunately for me, I found my dad's lectures on how cars work to be annoying and not worth paying attention to. This is the same dad who for months teased me with promises of the "Greatest Birthday Present of All Time" when I was 12. Then on that much-anticipated day, I opened my eyes only to find that my dad decided that, though I had never expressed any interest in such a thing, that he was going to build me a custom dune buggy with some crazy large engine. I'm pretty sure he just the whole "daughter's birthday" thing was just a front. My dad just really wanted a big, loud, dirty and obnoxious dune buggy. So if you're keeping score, that's:

12-year-old Amanda Who Never Wanted Nor Asked For Nor Even Thought About Dune Buggies: 0

Dad: 1

Now I kind of not only wish I had the dune buggy, I REALLY wish I would have paid attention when Dad was doing his best to turn his me into some sort of mini-girl-gearhead. So I decided I would try to learn about cars from the technical side. First off, I want to learn what exactly horsepower is. But then I run into this:

1 hp ≡ 33,000 ft·lbf/min by definition
= 550 ft·lbf/s since 1 min = 60 s
= 550 × 0.3048 × 0.45359237 m·kgf/s since 1 ft = 0.3048 m and
= 76.0402249068 kgf·m/s 1 lb = 0.45359237 kg
= 76.0402249068 × 9.80665 kg·m²/s³ g = 9.80665 m/s²
= 745.69987158227022 W since 1 W ≡ 1 J/s = 1 N·m/s = 1 (kg·m/s²)·(m/s)

Or given that 1 hp = 550 ft·lbf/s, 1 ft = 0.3048 m, 1 lb = 4.448 N, 1 J = 1 N-m, 1 W = 1 J/s: 1 hp = 746 W

cross multiply and cancel out:
550 ft-lb/s 0.3048 m 4.448 N 1 J 1 W
1 hp 1 ft 1 lb 1 N-m 1 J/s

= 745.66272 W or 746 W

Which I am pretty sure is not even in a language that I have ever known. So horsepower is some sort of long division equation wherein numbers are cross multiplied then canceled out. Ok, well now that I'm clear on that I will move on to fuel systems. Fuel makes cars go. Apparently. Also, I once owned a Volvo 740 which had two fuel pumps, neither of which seemed to work for longer than a few months at a time. Let's skip fuel for now and just pretend it's delivered to the engine via a network of fairies and wood sprites.

What about transmissions? This is probably going to be a sticky subject for me as well considering that I once owned a Toyota Tercel for 3 hours which I returned to the dealership after realizing that it should not take 4 traffic light cycles to get your car from neutral to first gear on a manual transmission. Let me rephrase that. It can take four light cycles if you are me and when it does take that long, motorists behind you get very very angry. Technically, I should have only owned the Tercel for one hour but it took me three to get it 12 miles back to the dealership. It could have taken even longer had that police officer not taken pity on me and told me to get out of the car so he could at least get it through the intersection and into a parking lot. So maybe transmission should be another task for another day. Let's see, what else is on a car? Brakes? Those make cars stop. There's also a thing called a rotor that can somehow get badly damaged when you hit a curb very hard and then the shop won't resurface them and you have to buy brand new ones. So I think I understand brakes.

Seriously though, I want to learn about cars. I want to be able to sound cool when I say the phrase "hemi". True story: I thought that was some sort of redneck sexual practice until I found out that it comes standard on Dodge trucks so now I've got it narrowed down to "something on a car that is totally NOT a sexual technique". I don't know if I should take a class but the fact that I have dropped out of college no less than four times leads me to believe that is probably not my best option. When I emailed my dad to ask him how I should go about learning how cars work, he incredulously asked why none of my friends knew about cars then remembered "the kinds you hang out with" which was my dad's nice way of saying "loser musicians and art fags". So please, if you or someone you know can explain to me the basics of how cars go forwards and backwards, email me. I can repay you by giving you a very low speed tour of the Uptown area including multiple extended stops at red lights followed by a symphony of honks and expletives. Any takers?

Finding Something Else to Waste Time Thinking About: Round 1

So now I have more than three months to become a more well-rounded individual in this off-season before I revert back to drinking beer, cursing at the Fox football robot and spending a few hours a day thinking of new creative ways to make fun of Jessica Simpson and Tony Romo. I have tried to get into baseball but old demons prevent me from enjoying it. Also the Rangers blow real hard.

I am trying to support the Stars because:
a) they aren't losing
b) Pantera
c) my previously mentioned theory that Razor Reaugh really looks like Morrissey

BUT, here's my deal. I can't see the puck. I see a lot of guys skating and sometimes when I see them all skate in one direction and clump up around the net, I assume a goal-like thing is happening. Apparently, all that national health care has given Canadians amazing hawk-like eyesight. Either that or Dr. Tylock really IS the most skilled lasik surgeon in the world! Either way, hockey is like soccer on ice with everyone wearing their older, bigger brother's hand me down clothes and pads. But, as I have mentioned often on this blog, I do love parade. Go Stars!

So I am exploring some of the following options:

1. Cars - I like the idea of being a girl who knows a little something about cars. Unfortunately, I am not. I always think that people might be fooled into thinking that when I do things like refill my wiper fluid or check my oil level. But I am secretly staring at the dipstick like a, oh jeebus why not, dipstick. I have no idea what sort of Rorschach test fluid level I am supposed to be seeing. But I really like the show Top Gear (Dear Thor/God/Buddah/8-Armed SuperDeity: all I ask for is 30 minutes alone with James May. Amen) and it makes me think that maybe I could one day understand what brake horsepower means. Only problem: turns out I am a totally stereotypical girl who likes the way things look and drive and have absolutely no interest in learning about how much fuel per second the crank thingy sends to the jiggy-lever. So I will continue to look at cars and make superficial proclamations about them. Let me know if you need help with that washer fluid refilling. I got ya covered.

2. New Music - New music is, in general, very bad or boring or overrated or played by people who annoy me to look at. The only teeny bit of excitement I can muster up is about the new Mudcrutch album. So if under the age of 55, please don't ask me what new stuff I'm listening to. I will probably claim to have just spotted Tony Randall and run away while you are distracted.

3. Catching Up On TV shows That My Friends Always Recommend - Here's the problem:

Lost: Too confusing. Too convoluted. Got in way too late in the game. Don't care if the island is real or if it's all a dream or if it's all a metaphor for something big and awesome and life-changing. When they start inventing comically impossible things out of thatched palm leaves and coconuts like Gilligan so they can do something equally asinine such as put on a talent show in the hopes of attracting a passing ship or plane, I will start watching Lost.

Dexter: So I'm supposed to be torn up because I am technically rooting for a killer because he kills only bad people who "deserve" it? I guess I am supposed to assume that Dexter's ability to judge another person's guilt is better than that of the Dallas District Attorney's office? I'm just saying. Also, if I were Dexter and I were ridding the world of people that deserve it I'm heading straight for the entire cast of The Hills. The fact that they have not already been "dealt with" means that I cannot fully suspend disbelief and buy that the guy is truly trying to rid the world of bad people.

The Wire: Too lazy to actually borrow it from Danny even after his repeated offers and me promising him to commit to watching the first season. Will wait until they come out with a Wire-themed Big Buck Hunter machine.


So basically, I have very little to fill my time and occupy my restless mind until Cowboys training camp starts. God willing, some band I know will play another show in a horrible backwater town or I will get some sort of intriguing skin disease about which I can blog in great detail for weeks at a time. Wish me luck!

Let's Hear it for the Guys Who Just Caused Our Team Another Humiliation!

First off, let me end this Mavs season on a positive note. Well, a positive note about the Hornets. I kind of see this playoff spanking as a blessing for both teams. The Mavs were a starving dog darting in between traffic on 75. Someone needed to just swerve and hit them and put them out of their misery. Even if they had somehow eeked out a win over New Orleans, who wanted to see (and live with the lifelong taunting and shame) of the Mavs being made into makeshift prison sex dolls by the Spurs? It was patently obvious that this season's Mavs and this lineup and this coaching staff was not going to take it all the way. It was like repeatedly trying to put a higher grade of fuel into a Pinto. There needs to be a massive round of layoffs the likes of which only General Motors could rival. There are plenty of people out there who will pontificate on which magic combination of trades and firings will work. I have little opinion. I want to give Dirk one more season to win with Dallas then let the poor guy go to maybe have a chance to not experience a yearly dance of shame and humiliation. I like Terry, Bass and George though wouldn't need grief counseling if any of them left. The rest of the team? Whatevs.

But looking ahead, I have to say that I kind of have a soft spot for the Hornets. They're young (which is weird to see considering the Mavs were comprised of mostly retirees and WWII veterans this year) and they turned around their franchise pretty dramatically in one season. And while I usually find myself picking targets at which to aim great voodoo and hatred towards when the Mavs playoff season starts, I just couldn't find the guy I was going to wish endless diarrhea on. Chris Paul is phenomenal, obviously. Chandler, West, Pargo and (heyyyyyy, check it out I copied and pasted it because unfortunately I can't find the crazy Serbian space language option on my keyboard) Stojaković are all great. I like the idea that they could be the spunky young upstarts who take on the Spurs. And they have handed the Spurs a few good defeats in the regular season. Put it this way: the way the Cowboys slid in the last few games of this past regular season, I wasn't that surprised to see them lose to the Giants in the first round. I was, however, euphoric to see the little team that beat us go on to David-Goliath the evil peeping-in-bedroom-windows-at-night Patriots. So I honestly wish the Hornets the best.