Nanuq

Right now there's a LeJour Superman on Ebay, for way less than the price of a "super" rep. Item 220206861078.

You got it! Take care to handle Daylight Savings Time, or your "north" will be off by 30 degrees.

Porcelain and Patrizzi come to mind... those things don't just fall from trees. Luckily, he was the one over there that recognized my GMT's dial as genuine, although exceedingly rare. It was nip and tuck, the mob was gathering to hang me from the nearest tree until he showed up and called off the scene. He even had another photo of a different 1675 with the same dial. Zane's the man.

No need to go to TZ, those are Zane's Daytonas in my photos! He has some others that show the Patrizzi ageing a little better. The JCK is not his.........

Yeah, and that dirty rat Newman refuses to return my calls.

@Toad old buddy old pal old chum... how do I get on your Christmas list? My 4-season MH tent is just amazing. You can stake that puppy down and weather out a hurricane! I picked the old MH Dryloft King Tut bag and put in the zipper extender so I have room inside for my morning clothes. It's conservatively rated to -20F but I've been toasty and happy at -40F. Bombproof stuff! Have you tried Moonstone Gore parkas?

Did somebody say Daytona??? More photos for reference....... Porcelain dial Patrizzi dials Mark I Mark II A and P High and Low fonts Group Photo - say CHEESE And my favorite, the Jean Claude Killy

Ummmmmmmmmmm, I think you've been working too hard?

If he bought the Porsche as a babe magnet, I can see that. If he bought it for its capabilities and engineering, then it's only a matter of time (ahem) until he's into mechanical watches too.

I use dye and mink oil. I've never used anything special on the cut edges.

STRESS I am not sure exactly how it works, but this is amazingly accurate. Read the full description before looking at the picture. The picture attached has 2 identical dolphins in it. It was used in a case study on stress levels at St. Mary's Hospital. Look at both dolphins jumping out of the water. The dolphins are identical. A closely monitored, scientific study revealed that, in spite of the fact that the dolphins are in fact identical, a person under stress would find subtle differences. The more differences a person identifies, the more stress that person is experiencing. Look at the photograph and if you find more than one or two subtle differences you may want to take a vacation.

I hear ya. And the pain/pleasure goes on... last night I accidentally tore the back bumper off my Rover. It was an accident, I tell you! An accident!! I just got a little too close to a tree.... How is it the English word "character" comes from the Greek word "to scratch"?

Here's a favorite piece by Matthew Parris: Love is a Land-Rover In Africa they sell cars differently. That was my experience as a student, selling a Land Rover from a campsite in Nairobi. Four friends and I had driven from England. We needed money to fly home. So, after washing and polishing Stanley, we put him up for sale. Then we waited by our tents. But our sales pitch failed. The truck had been pampered, we were suggesting; Stanley had hardly seen a pothole. It would have been unwise, surely, to mention the accident in northern Cameroon? We had left the road and jumped a gully while I was on the roof. Launched, rocket-like through the air, I had landed (to the amazement of tribeswomen labouring in the fields) by a tree, dislocating both my shoulders (relocated by swinging from a branch). Otherwise no damage. The women sang. Stanley and occupants seemed unhurt, though all received a hell of a wallop and my companions' heads left four neat dents in the roof. The dents we beat out in Nairobi. Stanley was presented as "pristine". Pristine? But our inquirers asked "What can this thing do?" African truck-hunters would cluck as we emphasised Stanley's cosseted history. "But has it been tried? Where have you driven it? How steep will it climb? How strong is it?" So we learnt the techniques of African persuasion. "This vehicle has been everywhere," we would say. "It has been driven across the whole of Europe, crossed the sea in a boat to Morocco, and traversed the Algerian Sahara. Neither the intense heat, nor the deep sand, nor the great rocks in the road could stop it. Tamanrasset was easily reached. The Hogar mountains in southern Algeria were surmounted without difficulty. Many times we were stuck in the soft sand, but always this truck triumphed. Niger, where roads hardly exist, was no problem. Nigeria - the heat and dust were incredible - was crossed in two days." Eyes would grow wide as we recounted the thrills and spills. "In Cameroon this car survived a terrible accident! We left the road, flew across a gully - all four wheels in the air -" (this was true) "and hit the ground so hard all the windows fell out (this was partly true). "In the Central African Republic the mud was knee-deep. No problem. In Zaire the roads were like rivers. Monkeys climbed on to the roof, and, once, a snake . . ." (this was not true) " . . . and in Rwanda we gave a lift to 12 people, all crammed in and on the rooftop. In Tanzania we passed among lions: there is nothing this Land-Rover has not seen. We drove it up the lower slopes of Kilimanjaro. "And now - look! Strong, tested, ready. Such endurance!" We stopped short of pointing out that even the original, excellent engine oil, which had brought us all the way from England, came, unchanged, with the vehicle. As the tale of abuse and endurance unfolded, prospective buyers, seized with a desire to own this paragon themselves, would up their offers. Sadly, none could afford our price. We had to sell Stanley to the white manager of the Coca-Cola bottling plant, who spotted (as we had not) that the chassis was cracked. He had it welded. His was the more scientific approach, but is the African attitude not preferable? Born there, I must have soaked it in myself, for now I have my own Land-Rover, a lady of a certain age. Although it makes no sense, I cannot bear to part with her. With every scrape she surmounts, I prize her more. Registered in Sleaford, Lincolnshire, in 1959, she is an early Series II (headlamps close together but overhead valve and the "new" body design which more or less survives to this day). I bought her after the 1979 general election. A battered old truck is classless, excellent for MPs: as acceptable on council estates as up gravel drives. Mine is a petrol-engined long wheelbase "cab & canopy", dark green, registration NTL 703. There are no seatbelts, moss is growing in the windows, the dashboard has rusted through, but she just keeps going. She has accompanied me twice to the Sahara (once across the atrocious tracks of the Tassili N'Ajer mountains), many times to Europe, once (with loudspeakers) through a general election, and innumerable times down the M1. She has pulled caravans and horse-boxes, transported straw for my llamas and flagstones for my drive. In bad winters in Derbyshire she has come to the rescue. Nor was it all rough-stuff: she has visited The Finings, John and Norma Major's Huntingdonshire home (though the detectives had to assist me in a push-start; it complicates the cheery departing wave to a former Prime Minister). Polished, she has collected the Foreign Minister of the Western Sahara's Polisario Front at Heathrow. All this without any serious failure, ever. There have been ailments of course, but she and I got through them. When the starter motor conked out, I started the engine with a crank for months. My lost key has been replaced, too - though for a season I remedied its lack by coupling two wires under the bonnet. One door rusted away; the new one flies open, to the alarm of passengers. Once, 14 of us fitted in for a trip to the pub, Nick climbing over the roof on the way home, hanging over the windscreen, leering at me upside down and denting the roof amusingly. The bumper is twisted where Jon scraped a wall while I was teaching him to drive. The other day a wire behind the dashboard combusted so we stopped in a cloud of smoke and ripped it out. I never did find out what the wire was for. The mileometer hasn't worked since 1981, the speedometer hunts the mark, the interior light is defunct and there never was a heater. Nor is she lockable, though for six years I would leave her unattended all week at Derby station. Like a person, such a machine only grows stronger with age; like a person, you never think she will die. Unlike a person, a Land Rover is capable of returning affection. But in recent years intimations of mortality have multiplied. For five years my mechanic has told me that there was a limit to the welding possible on a rusting chassis. Before setting out for Spain this Easter I asked him to look her over. He said it would cost up to

I don't judge other people. Or at least I try really hard not to. But I *do* judge inanimate objects. Severely. To me, how something is designed and executed is what matters. How much effort went into its creation? How well does it work and how long will it last? That's my bottom line. I love Bach and Durufle and Debussy and Saint-Saens and Copland because they worked their butts off to write those pieces. They've endured centuries. I hate disco and bubble-gum music. Jingles took about *snap* that long to write. Pffffffft. One-hit wonders don't do it for me. I loathe tinny little disposable cars because they have no soul. My Rover was signed (back of the driver's seat) by the lads who hand-built it. Sure it has quirks, but that's what endears it to me. I don't want to drive a soulless toaster. I love Renoir and Monet but can't stand Patrick Nagel. I love Stickley furniture. I love Mountain Hardwear camping gear. So when I look at a watch and see sparkle and shine, I'm interested. All guys love shiny things with buttons. But if I realize it's a quartz $3 watch wrapped up in a $300 price tag, it's a total turnoff. It's a cheap POS trying to look chunky and impressive. Mind you I'm talking about the watch ... not its wearer. For whatever reason, s/he has chosen it and doubtless likes its looks. Gimme something old and well-loved with a huge dose of "soul" every time.

Today I'm wearing this old-timer

Here's another good link.... http://www.aristotle.net/~bhuie/birthday.htm

Interestingly enough, no other user has registered with PHDguy's IP address.

Animal indeed! Tonight Pete's competing in the Iditasport Invitational, a mountain bike race to McGrath (375mi.) or Nome (1,100mi.). He's already into Puntilla Lake, that's over 160 miles, in 28 hours. Mind you, some of the trail has only recently been punched through and the trail breaking crew are reporting chest-deep snow in places. One trail breaker reported going off the trail, and over his head in the new snow. Oh, and this is after Pete broke one of his pedals off, had to wait 8 hours for a new one to be flown out to him, and still passed the race leaders into Puntilla. GO PETE!

A link to the official website: http://www.alaskaultrasport.com/latest_news.html Here's Joe: And here are some photos of the start, courtesy of Ma Basinger. Her son Pete is the baddest of the bad on 2 wheels. He's the one mid-right in front of the Ultrasport banner. http://picasaweb.google.com/donnabas/08IditarodInvitational 1,100 miles to Nome. On a bike. At -40F to -60F. Wrap your head around that.

Ah, you have your IMAP configured different than me. I get more headers than that and my distributed email stores on my many synch'd machines are BIG.

IMAP on an iPhone? How much memory does your phone have anyway? You don't want to store/synch all that junk on your phone. I bought an iPhone for my daughter and those things are addicting!

People seemed to like my last photo of bald eagles... so here are some more. Enjoy!

Ford Twin Turbo GT-1000

Oh, wait..... sometimes exciting stuff happens but we try to keep it to a minimum..........

Nice link! Yep, we're a sleepy little burg.... nothin' much happening here! (falsehood specifically designed to keep the tourists away)