Please Don't Mind What I'm Trying To Say 'Cause I'm Being Honest...

Here we go:  "Dreeeeew, pictuuuuuuures!  Ehrmagherd, where are the pictures??".  I know, I know.  Regardless of how in shape we are or how intelligent we claim to be, most people are lazy these days and do not like reading anything that lacks the presence of a few photos.  I understand this, and I try, but there is nothing relevant I can put into this blog as far as images are concerned.  Psychology?  I studied it for years and I know how attention spans work, so I will try to make the following to the point and relevant.  Stay with me for a moment?  Please?

There is this pride thing we tend to get very stuck on a little bit too often.  Unfortunately, disagreements are bound to happen in anything we do because such is part of being human.  Sticking with that thought, some people exist who thrive on being difficult to the point of causing a problem for no other reason than to do so.  Take a moment to digest that one and think about how many times you get into a petty altercation each day.  Finished?  Now, if you have realized part of your character thrives on being a pain in neck, you are really going to hate me very shortly.  

Over the span of however long people have been around ("We were monkeys!"  "We were created!" "Aliens birthed us!"  Shut up, that isn't the point I'm making.) we have been equipped to communicate with one another which also created differing opinions.  With the differing opinions also comes a differentiation of what we each believe to be true and correct about anything, yes, anything.  The problem is that we thrive on not being told we are wrong.  Take me for example...I like learning and I like to form my own opinions based upon what I have read or experienced.  As a method of avoiding drama or causing someone's demonic horns to sprout, I try to stay away from talking about subjects I have not spent enough time learning about.  Why?  Nobody likes to be wrong.  

People get in this mode of defensive stupidity (I have more than once) when they are told they are wrong, whether indirectly or through proven fact by someone else.  I went out of my way to approach an older man trying to change a flat tire once and asked if I could help.  He had that corner of the car jacked into the air and said (irritated) "You won't be able to get the lug nuts off.  The tire spins around and you can't get the leverage to unscrew them!"  To which I said "If you let me lower the car back on the ground, the tire will be stationary from the weight of the car so I can break the lugs loose for you."  Then the guy turned red from a cocktail-mixture of embarrassment and rage followed by:  "You don't know what you're talking about and I already called AAA.  They'll know what to do.".  Yes, that happened about a year ago, right in front of my parents' driveway at about nine o'clock in the morning. Awesome.

For me, this all comes down to honesty. I say it all the time, but honesty is a huge factor in who I am and who I surround myself with.  We all make mistakes and we all have opinions that can be proven false by someone else, yet sometimes admitting that fault, no matter how petty, is difficult for us to do.  We seek out arguments and will beat our point to death even if we have been proven incorrect, without a doubt.  I like the idea of humility in the form of being truthful and I do not just mean in the form of an apology.  Sometimes when we get into a little rift with someone else, we really should ask for forgiveness instead of saying how sorry we are.  

Dishonesty is a relationship killer for me in any capacity.  Have you ever had someone lead you into believing something was not true as a way to spare your feelings?  Have you done this to someone yourself?  

"Well, I never said I WASN'T going to do that.  If that's how he/she read into it, that isn't my fault." 

Yet, in your mind and the way you cleverly worded your side of the discussion, you were well aware of what the other person was thinking.  No matter how you look at something like that, leading someone to believe anything that is not true is still a lie.  This is the same way we justify petty arguments to ourselves internally as well.  The problem is, when people say things like that to me and think I believe them, I can generally see through their intent.  When we are battling the idea inside of our own head, things become a bit more difficult to process.  Everyone believes themselves, so telling yourself a lie is very easy to believe and sets up a really horrid circle of confusion internally.

So, what am I trying to say?

We should have some humility and stop being a pain in the ass to people and ourselves...

Grace and Peace,
    -Drew

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/drew.silvers
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/drewcoustic
Email: drewcoustic@gmail.com

The lyrics in the title of this blog are from this song: 

I'll Give It To You, No Interruption...

I sat there, and sat there, and sat there, just trying to think.  Sometimes we get that whole "writer's block" thing going on in our heads and jumping the hurdle seems impossible.  The sitting thing is in relation to where I was tonight.   A certain place I go when I just need to figure out what I need to write for the day;  if nothing else, it is a form of self-therapy.  Generally, this works for me and my mind starts racing around.  Heck, I took my fair share of notes, look:

I actually came up with some solid stuff and you may say "You don't have writer's block.  Look at all of that."  Yet, when one of the few things that tends to keep you in check is writing - notes, ideas and topics are just that and they hang around until you are ready to do something of substance with them.  An idea can readily spark, but the execution of expanding that thought can mean taking a fairly a rough road.  

Can I be real with you?  We are friends, right?  Regardless of what anyone may think, I do not sit here and pull these things out of my butt (besides that iPhone Obituary I wrote yesterday, but that was obvious). I put at least half a day's worth of thought into everything before I even begin my somewhat formal blog writing on the topic.  Today, I did not get that, and I am fine with it.  I told myself months ago that I would write something of relative substance Monday through Friday at the least, but today the synapses are not exactly firing in that direction.  At least I have my notebook ready for next week, maybe tomorrow, quite possibly Sunday.  Just go with it.  Right, Tiffany?

Grace and Peace,
    -Drew

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/drew.silvers
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/drewcoustic
Email: drewcoustic@gmail.com

The lyrics in the title of this blog are from this song:

Here's My Number...So Call Me Maybe?

Dearest, iPhone 3GS,

    You were my second iPhone after my original 3G passed its prime.  My mother owned you for a while and then your dock connector blew out.  Remember when I soldered the new one in?

    Yes, all of those little soldering points were done by me so you could live again, and you did!  Four years, one dock connector replacement, three battery replacements. Guess what?  That means I have seen you naked more than once:

    Remember that one time I dropped you and cracked your back case at the bottom, right in the middle?

    That was the only time I ever dropped you.  Unlike most iPhone owners, I take care of you little boogers.  And besides a little sawdust that somehow creeped under your glass, you lived a pretty protected and scratch-free life.  Consider yourself as one of the lucky ones!  But then, today, you did this:

    After running like a champ with no hiccups for over four years, and even working just fine all day today, you heated yourself up a little bit too much and slipped away into the eternal iPhone slumber.

    I plugged you into your favorite cable and you tried to live again, really you did, but you just kept blinking your little apple at me, like you were waving goodbye for the last time.  

    After one final surgery to check you out and make sure I was not missing anything crucial to your survival, I put you back together and made the decision that it was time for me to bring a new iPhone into my life. 

    Do not worry, old iPhone, I hate her.  She is too new and actually fairly ugly.  You had more curves about you, so she cannot wear your old clothes.  I would not dream of doing such a thing anyway.  

    I owe it to you, old iPhone to make this blog post in remembrance of who you are and the time we were able to spend together.  I wanted to take one last picture of you all lit up, even though all you could do was blink your apple at me, so I plugged you back in one final time...

Wait...

 What??

SON OF A &^#$*!!!!!

Grace and Peace,
    -Drew

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/drew.silvers
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/drewcoustic
Email: drewcoustic@gmail.com

The lyrics in the title of this blog are from this song (duh):

Sometimes You Just Need A Second To Step Back And Reflect...

Have you ever run across something small and simple that you have not seen in many years, only to have a series of memories spark in directions you otherwise would not experience?

This very thing happened to me last week when I saw these:

Out of the packaging, they look like this:

These little things are balls of gooey coconut covered in various flavors of a specific fondant.  The significance behind these things is that I did not like them as a child, but they were something my paternal grandmother kept in her house fairly often.  I had not seen these since I was little kid, so I had no choice but to buy a bag for no other reason than memories.  And it was worth my time.

These are my dad's parents (Nanny and PawPaw).  Their house was (and still is) right next door to my parents' house.  When I was growing up, they were always right there, within earshot of me and that meant I spent quite a bit of time with them.  Sometimes I would rake up leaves in their yard and my grandmother would give me a quarter.  I would run through the bedsheets she hung on her clothes line in the summer months.  They, my parents, my uncle, my sister, and myself would all sit in a swing under an oak tree and eat watermelon when they were ready to be picked from the garden.  I would climb their cherry tree and throw the red ones down to my sister while they watched us;  the same with the mulberry tree.

My paternal grandparents were older than those of most kids my age.  I am currently twenty-seven years old (born in 1986) but my grandfather was born in 1905 and my grandmother in 1913.  In 1994, after watching him struggle with old age and cancer for quite some time, we lost my grandfather;  I was eight years old.  Two years later in 1996, my grandmother also slipped away from us.   Losing someone who was there for your entire existence when you are that young is confusing and heartbreaking, but it helped me understand how life and death work much earlier than most.  I was very shocked at the amount of people I knew in my early twenties who were of my same age, but had never been to a funeral or had to cope with the death of someone they love.  Maybe the accepting nature of a child's mind processes something so traumatic in a different way than someone of a more developed mind.  Maybe that is a good thing.  

These are my maternal grandparents (Granny and Pop):

Granny was fun because whenever my sister and I would spend the night, she would get us up around midnight to feed us junk food.  She always wanted the biggest Christmas tree she could fit in the den, whether real or fake and my sister and I helped her decorate it every single year while Pop watched from the couch.  My grandfather cooked breakfast every morning, so when we stayed over it was always bacon and eggs with toast.  He is also part of the reason I have become a car guy as well as one of my biggest encouragement figures when I became interested in music.  

Unfortunately, my maternal grandparents both shared the same smoking habit but both set out to quit in the 1990's.  While I have no concrete proof, I am not entirely sure Granny ever fully quit smoking in her lifetime.  After years of seeing her suffer with respiratory issues, she succumbed to lung cancer complications in 1999, when I was thirteen years old.

My grandfather went on to beat lung cancer twice, but ultimately, the emphysema from years of smoking and the other tissue damage caused by the habit gave him a tough last few years.  He never really complained about his condition that I am aware of, and fought in his own stubborn way until the end, which, for him came in 2008.

Now, why did I write this?  Well, it was sprung from that day I came across the coconut bon bons in the grocery store.  The real reason is because I believe life should be treasured, and everyone should be remembered.  Your life and health have nothing to do with age, as my paternal grandparents outlived both of my maternal grandparents by nearly two decades.  But what I have come to realize is that time is irrelevant when we are talking about the quality of life lived and the support and love given by those around us whether spending time together as usual, or comforting someone who is slowly slipping away from us.  

At the end of the day, it is not about how much time we are given with someone, but the way in which we spend the time we do have and the legacy that is left behind.

    Today's blog did not have song lyrics as a title, and I am not going to post links to my various social media platforms here at the end as I always do.  There are over 1,000 of you who read this blog as of today and I would like you to check out the links below.  A great family who I have so much respect for has graciously started an organization named "Caring Together In Hope" with the mission of giving support to the amazing and selfless caregivers of those with Alzheimer's and Dementia in the greater Atlanta area.


Their Mission Statement:
"The Caring Together in Hope Foundation provides respite and support services to caregivers with limited financial resources who are selflessly serving those affected with dementia and related disorders."

Learn more about Caring Together In Hope here:

http://caringtogetherinhope.org/

Or visit and "Like" their Facebook page here:

https://www.facebook.com/CaringTogetherInHope

Thank you to my awesome readers and subscribers, as always.  

Grace and Peace,  

    -Drew

Point The Biggest Skeptic Out, I'll Make Him A Believer...

Here is your warning of the nerdy DIY situation to follow this paragraph.  

You see, I love learning and if there is a problem with something I do regularly, I will try to fix that problem instead of dealing with it in continual frustration.  This applies to my relationships with people and also in the more physically literal sense.  What does that mean?  Get ready for a photo journey.  This is nerdy engineering-type stuff, you have been warned.

I use an HVLP gun for wood/furniture finishing on a regular basis.  

That would be this:

It sprays paint...Which I hope you were able to deduce on your own accord without me telling you that.

This is an air compressor used to compress the air you need in order to spray the paint out of the HVLP gun:

Yes, the air compressor is dirty.  It lives outside and outside is notoriously dirty if you are unaware of that little fact (Hey, you learned something. No?  OK.).

My problem with using my gun to spray a proper finish in the warmer months is a little occurrence we call "humidity".  The more humid the air is outside, the more likely you are to get water in the airlines that go to your paint gun.  Putting a water catch in the air line does nothing to help because of condensation.

When the air compressor starts pulling air from outside to compress it into the large tank below it, the outside air is full of moisture (of course).  The actual compressor assembly is similar in operation to a gasoline engine and the air that passes through it can get as hot as 230*F.  The problem is that the compressor pumps this very hot air into a sixty-gallon tank directly below it that is generally under 70*F.  When hot air meets substantially cooler air, you get condensation.  This is the same principle behind the making of liquor in a distillery, if you have ever seen how that works.  Some of this condensation falls to the bottom of the compressor tank, but most of it just floats around and comes out of the air lines and into whatever tool you are using at the moment.

In my case, the condensation was coming out of my HVLP gun and since water does not mix with lacquer or oil-based paints, the finish would have water drops (cat eyes) in it or solidified paint would come out the end of the gun, ruining the finish on the piece I was working on enough that I would have to start over.

I had to do something and took to the internet to find an air dryer system which would remove the condensation, but they are very expensive.  But I did find a guy who posted a write-up about building an air-dryer from scratch for a small, portable air compressor and figured I could design something similar to use on a commercial air compressor at the shop.  

I will give credit where such is due when I find that write-up again.  I cannot find it for the life of me right now.

The trick to removing the water from compressed air is to catch it all before it gets into the air tank.  So, the compressed air needs to be free of water and clean before it makes it into the air line.

I used this:

That is a condenser coil from an air conditioning unit.  I was going to take a video of how I acquired it, but the way I went about that was illegal.  It involved an old air conditioner at the edge of a forest, some tin snips, and copious amounts of R134a going into the atmosphere.  But I did not document that event with pictures, so it may or may not have happened (but it did).  If you do not know what a condenser coil is, it is a long piece of copper tubing run back and forth in a grid, similar to a car's radiator.

My uncle and I made those brackets out of aluminum:

The idea behind using a condenser coil is to unhook the air compressor itself from the air tank below it and run the hot air out of the compressor, through the condenser coil in order to cool it off before it reaches the tank.

We bought some stuff to make that happen:

The air compressor lives in a little roofed area outside, so I built a mount out of 2x4's to attach the condenser coil to:

And did some plumbing with my uncles to get all of that sorted:

If you look at the original picture of the air compressor I posted, there was a single copper pipe going from the compressor head, into the tank.  That is how the 230*F air hit the 70*F air and created the water.  The rearward piece of copper tubing goes from the head to the top of the condenser coil. 

You can see it here:

So, the hot air comes out of the compressor head, goes into a copper pipe that is attached to the top of the condenser.  When the air comes out the bottom of the condenser, the water has separated from the air, so if that is going back into the air tank, the water is still in the system, right? Nope.

My uncle made the little box you see on the right:

Yes, he made it.  My uncle is a welder and built that small air tank out of raw steel and then threaded a hole in the top for a pressure gauge, threaded another hole towards the bottom face for the separated air/water mix to enter when it leaves the condenser, threaded another hole towards the top of the face for cool air to leave the small tank and go into the big tank, and threaded one more hole at the bottom for a petcock.  

So, the condensed air/water goes into the bottom of that small tank and all of the heavy water falls to the bottom.   The cool, clean air rises upward to the other copper line that then pumps it into the main, sixty gallon tank, free of water and completely cooled down.  Does that make sense?  

After pressurizing the system, nothing leaked and the compressor was running much cooler and quieter.  After a few cycles, I drained the water from the small black tank (that's what the petcock at the bottom is for) and about a quarter cup of water came out.  Some water was also still making it into the main tank, so, today, my uncle and I put a fan behind the condenser:

I wired it directly into the pressure switch on the air compressor so it will turn on automatically only when the compressor fires off to re-pressurize the system (which is the only time it needs to).  

After installing the high-powered fan and letting the system cycle on twice, there is not a drop of water in the main air tank and I drained about half a cup of water out of the small, black catch tank.  Most importantly, there is no water in the air line that feeds my HVLP gun.

My dad and uncles helped with my idea immensely and even though there were a few moments of them saying "This had better work." they all put a huge effort into it.  I am a car guy, so I understand the method and science behind it, but when it comes to flaring copper pipe and that sort of thing, I could not have done it without their help (and Cecil's welding skills.  I suck majorly at welding).  

Why would I come up with this idea when you can buy a kit right off the shelf and just install it?  Those kits start at around $1000 and go up from there.  The materials in this build cost less than $100.  A little time, a little learning, and a lot of family bonding (mostly bickering and uncertainty) and you can really surprise yourself with what can be accomplished.  And if it did not work, we could always make it into a still for moonshine, right?

Do not let anyone tell you that you are unintelligent for any reason, because if you run with an idea and have great people backing you up, anything is possible.  

Even fabricating a potentially deadly bomb out of an air compressor and some copper...

Grace and Peace,
-Drew

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/drew.silvers
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/drewcoustic
Email: drewcoustic@gmail.com

The lyrics in the title of this blog are from this song:

I Keep Thinking How Young You Can Die From Old Age...

Right out of the gate, I may as well tell you that this will not be a photo blog today.  My reasoning is because the majority of my pictures are taken on my iPhone and I did the unthinkable over the weekend;  I turned mine off.

I started writing blogs about technology taking over our lives in the worst ways a few years ago and since that point, my ideas from back then have been ringing more and more true and effecting so many more people.  Back in the time when I actually updated my Facebook status on a daily basis, I spent more time on that site than I realized.  Actually, I spent so much time on Facebook that I have a few frequent "posters" and "sharers" blocked from my newsfeed because they clogged it up with three or more close-up pictures of their face everyday, "Share this if you love Jesus!" posts, and/or hash-tagged status updates about baby poop, junk food, or something to inflate their ego.  

Rather than continuing to be annoyed by social media and technology, I changed my way of thinking.  The first step was to kill my DirecTV, which I did.  My second was to stop updating my Facebook (other than telling people I have posted a new blog, which if you have noticed is really all I use it for now).  The third item on my list was to start a blog and let anyone read it who wants to;  something with real content and a passion for my writing behind it rather than a picture of my dinner plate with "nom nom" as the descriptor.  Back to my iPhone...

This past Friday, I woke up in an odd state.  Something about that day just did not feel right to me from the instant my alarm clock went off and I spent the whole day unhappy for reasons which I really have no explanation.  I spent that entire day in a messy fog.  When Saturday morning came around and I arrived at the shop to finish a project, I looked at my iPhone only to make the decision that it needed a nap.  Considering the way I was feeling about myself and the other thoughts clouding my brain, the less distractions, the better for me.  I turned it off.  I never turn it off.  

My phone stayed in it's own little state of hibernation all day Saturday and I only turned it on after midnight on Sunday so I could have an alarm clock to wake me up.  I went about my day on Sunday and left my iPhone upstairs, in my bedroom, all alone.  A good friend called me sometime around three o'clock and that was when I realized I had left it on.  I did call her back and we had a really great conversation that I personally needed to hear in my state of haze.  A few minutes after that, I turned it off again.

Needing some new blog topics, and wanting to separate myself from any form of computer, I went to a restaurant by myself on Sunday night and sat at the bar.  The bartender was a cute girl in her early twenties and after sitting there with my pen and paper for about thirty minutes, writing down some ideas for my blog, we started to talk.  We had one of those talks where it feels like you have known each other for a few years and not just half an hour, if that makes sense.  School, working in a restaurant, some goals, how incredibly annoying parents with "picky" kids are, that sort of thing.  I am not entirely sure why but that conversation I had with her brought me back down to being myself for about an hour.  I was speaking to someone on a real level, without text messages or distractions of social media getting in the way.  So, at the end of the day, after putting away the keyboard, I was able to have a meaningful and wonderful conversation with my friend that afternoon and a great talk with a complete stranger that night.  No distractions, just real voices talking to each other.  Doing that has been too far gone for me over the past few years. 

I know what you are thinking.  The bartender, right?  Nothing came of it because if you know me through actual life or only through my blogs, you are aware that I go into conversations with new people without expectation or motive;  I did not even catch her full name to tell you the truth.  I have nothing to prove to anyone and I try so hard to just be myself and not impress anyone.  Making a new friend is more important to me than trying to make myself look appealing for whatever reason.  I try to see value in people and relate to them;  I like simple, unassuming conversation.  Nothing more.  You should try it sometime... You could make a new friend, or better yet, get a little bit closer to yourself.

Am I happy now?  No.  But I am still trying hard to be optimistic about life.

Grace and Peace,
-Drew

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/drew.silvers
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/drewcoustic
Email: drewcoustic@gmail.com

The lyrics in the title of this blog are from this song:

I've Had Enough Of The World And It's People's Mindless Games...

*This was originally posted on Friday, May 31st.  I found a typo and corrected it, which unfortunately changed the posting date to Sunday, June 2nd.*

I have a confession.  Last night I said my finger was bothering me too much to type a real blog, but the real issue was that I knew the pain would be much worse today, so I went ahead and typed out the one you are soon to read.  This was a good idea on my part because my finger is in some serious pain at the moment. Here is today's blog that was typed yesterday (well, midnight, whatever).

Some people do not understand the world I come from but if you grew up in church (or a similar, regular gathering), you will be able to relate.  Nine times out of ten the people you know, befriend and socialize with in that environment are playing a role and are not the same people once you take the Sunday smiles off of their face.  Sure, there are some genuine people of practice out there, but as I grew, I realized everything is not what it seemed and this concept began to apply to every situation I found myself in from that point forward.  (Click here to read "The Dopest Dope You Ever Smoked" about me being disowned by the church.)

Being truthful is huge to me as you know if you have spent any time reading my blog in the past.  I really do believe that honesty is the key to living a better life, but most will not practice it as a constant rule.  I can understand acting a bit differently in your work environment because of composure and butt kissing (which I also do not agree with, but I do not see that changing) yet we do this sort of thing in our personal lives as well.  Guess what?  That method is horrible.

I have said it many times that we can meet people we think we know and then it often turns out to be a facade of who they really are or a very forward role they are playing for whatever reason.  Getting behind that is something I cannot do.  Dating is crap for me because I do not want to know just the good things about you, I want to know the REAL you and I really do not think you get that sort of honesty in the practice.  When it comes to friendships, I have had many people walk into my life as a certain person who thinks and acts in a certain way, expresses wonderful qualities, and seems like a joy to be around for years;  only to find out they are not at all who you had set in your mind.  I can name many people who have even married that person after putting years of effort into their relationship. (I have talked about that one in detail before and you can read it here.)

At the end of the day, I hate being fake myself and have made a vow to not do so anymore.  I have nothing to hide either, but so many people do.  Should you invite everyone into every facet of your life?  Of course not, we all have a few pieces of baggage here and there that have no real reason to be brought up, but why do we lie to the people we care about or act like a person we are not.  Acting differently around one person as compared to another makes no sense to me and I do not like people who put up a front.  We should all know our own identities and embrace them fully rather than adapting the role of a character in the play that we have made our life to be.  The thing about plays is that they are usually fiction and put forth for the purpose of entertainment.  As for me, I would rather anyone I care about know who I am.  The real me.  No shame, entirely honest, no different to anyone else.  Had I felt the need to live in a stage production, a pursuit of an acting career would have been in order.

Be you.  Be the same you to everyone.  At the same time, be humble because you are special in your own way and if the world cannot appreciate who you really are to everyone else on the same, level plane, they are not at all worth your time.  

Think it over and evaluate who you spend your time with as well as who you are when standing before others.  Then come in, sit down, and I will buy you a coffee.  We can talk...

Grace and Peace,
-Drew

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/drew.silvers
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/drewcoustic
Email: drewcoustic@gmail.com

The lyrics in the title of this blog are from this song: