"Hey kids, what time is it?"
As I write, it is the morning of Feb. 8th,
first day of Carnival.
My neighbors here in the 'Tower'. . . . .
.
. . . . . . . . . . just showed me
an information card that may allow me to call some 800 numbers in the US
from here, no charge.
I met this water guy on my way to breakfast
at the Mission one morning. They usually use small flatbed trucks. I'll
bet he avoids jackrabbit starts until he's sold off a few jugs.
I can't remember if I've shown you this or
not. They sure did a nice job on it.
When I was 16 and a junior in HS my Pop bought a '50 Oldsmobile club coupe for me to learn to drive in. My first car. I was allowed to take it out alone with my date to the Jr-Sr prom. I ended that fun filled evening by running the car down an embankment and tipping it over on it's side in a swamp. As a Sr I was allowed to work on the wrecked car as a privilege if my grades were OK. After I got the bad side all banged out I had a local body guy paint it baby blue. My oh my, but it turned out nice. (until the Bondo started cracking and falling out, but that was later.)
One of the hotels in my neighborhood used
to have a pretty nice book exchange and I'd heard they had quit it this
year. A couple days ago I stopped by to check it out for myself and it
was true. They also used to have some Cuban oils hanging in the bar for
sale and still do. Different canvases now from last year but still some
great art. Here is one from last year. I really like the subject and the
great use of light and color.
Here is the one that cought my eye this year.
. . . . because of that baby blue '50 Olds on the left.
(decked and shaved, just like mine)
That makes me wonder where that old car
of mine ended up. . . . .I just wonder. . . . .
There are masses of Hibiscus here but most
of them are of the drooping pistol variety. The whole flower just sort
of hangs down. Here is a lovely exception I found in a tourist mall.
I was visiting all the T-shirt places looking for that Einstein shirt, without much luck, when I wandered into an off street handicraft mall. Lots of very nice work on display. Then, in the background, behind a palm, on the other side of a pool I saw an old, one person, recompression chamber just sitting there.
When divers go down in the sea the air they breath must be under pressure to overcome the water pressure. For instance, lets say our lungs have a volume of 5 liters. At sea level the air pressure is about 14.7 PSI because of the weight of all the air above us pressing down in response to gravity. To simplify the arithmetic lets just call it 15 PSI. Because sea water is more dense than air the diver only has to submerge to 33 feet to add another 15 PSI to the pressure they feel. As I recall from HS science class, Boyle's Law says that if the pressure of air doubles, the volume is reduced by half. That is to say that each breath of air at 33 feet actually passes twice the volume of air, or 10 liters. The body starts absorbing more of the Oxygen and Nitrogen in the air because of the pressure and increased mass of air available. The lungs in turn disolves these gases into the blood stream. When the diver comes up from the depths these solutions are exchanged back into gas by the lungs. There are areas of the body where circulation is very slow, such as around joints, and it takes longer to clear out the excess dissolved gasses. Nitrogen in particular is a concern because it will easily turn back to a gas right in the joint areas if it's not given enough time to circulate to the lungs to gas off. If Nitrogen gasses off in the joint tissue it is called 'getting the bends' because it tends to double one over in pain. The cure is to increase the pressure on the diver until the pain stops. This can be done by going back down in the sea or entering a recompression chamber where the air pressure can be increased until the pain is relieved. The pressure is then slowly reduced at a predetermined rate until it matches the outside pressure, and the diver is 'cured'.
So, how did this old recompression chamber
end up hidden away in a Mexican tourist shopping mall?
I keep talking about all the bikes on the
streets here and how the auto traffic accommodates them. Here is the employee
parking area next to another little off street shopping mall.
This is another kiddie seat I spotted in
this crowd. Riding on that thing during you impressionable years would
certainly prepare one for life on a regular bicycle seat.