Monday, July 21, 2014

Thanks for the Stove

I love my sister and I think she feels the same about me. That’s why when she switched out her glass-top electric for a new gas range, she asked if I wanted it. “Sure,” I said. And that’s when the trouble started.

To put this gift in context, you should know that I consider myself at least somewhat handy around the house. I’ve done some extensive remodeling on other properties I’ve owned and the results weren’t half bad. Add that to the fact that I’m an avid cook (a skill acquired in the interest of self-preservation after many years as a bachelor) and you have the setting for the tale that follows.

When I recently moved back into the condo I bought in 1980, the almond-finish builder-grade stove had suffered a couple decades’ worth of indignity by a succession of renters. It had given up any hope of stylishness, and while the exposed coils on it still worked, level was a concept they had long since abandoned. A new (OK, gently-used) glass-top stainless range for free was like a gift from above. It deserved a place befitting its grandeur. I would give it a kitchen we could both be proud of.

I looked at my 11-foot galley with a critical eye. Would the new stove work with my electrical service? I had 40-amp 220 and the stove had a 50-amp plug. Time to call an electrician. He said as long as the feed from the box would carry the current, I’d probably be fine with a new receptacle and breaker. Otherwise, he’d have to pull a new wire. A long way. For a lot of money.

Would the new range fit? Yes, but I had to be careful because the overhanging glass top wouldn’t work with the rolled edge of my counters on either side. OK, I could use new countertops anyway. Speaking of which, counter space was at a premium so that huge microwave had to go. Off to the Big Box to find a matching over-the-range model. Found it and it was at my door the next day. The vent duct matched my old range hood perfectly, so all I had to do was mount it and hook it up. Of course the wall cabinet would have to be changed to accommodate the new microwave, so I had ordered it, too. Now to hang it below the soffit and attach the microwave. Below the soffit. The soffit that cheated me out of badly-needed storage space. I wondered what was behind it.

With easily repaired holes and a strong flashlight, I discovered the only thing the soffit enclosed above the stove was the duct for the exhaust fan. On the other side, the soffit was completely empty. I could tear them out and have 20 more cubic feet of storage! I spent the next Saturday ripping out the soffit over the stove and fridge (still the old ones — I haven’t ordered the new stainless refrigerator I’ll need to match the range and microwave yet) and cleaned up the mess with a sense of accomplishment. The other side would have to wait a while since I needed to use the kitchen and had other things to do, besides.

When I planned my attack on the sink side, I noticed the pantry cabinet had been notched out to fit the soffit. Hmmm. How would that look with the soffit gone? Closer inspection revealed that the pantry was a full inch-and-a-half taller than the tops of the wall cabinets. Darn. Filler strip? New cabinet? After all, the 30-year-old cabinets were showing their age.

Refinish? Reface? Replace? Well, that depends on the style of the new kitchen, doesn’t it? I want something casual and contemporary, with maybe a nod to Art Deco. No problem. Plenty of ideas online. Let’s just take a look at that site with all the pictures. All the pictures. Millions of pictures. So many pictures that by the time I find one I like, I’ve forgotten why I went there, having been distracted by a link to an article about landscaping with water — and I don’t even own the ground outside my condo! Time to go to bed.

Of course now I can’t sleep, thinking about redesigning my whole stinking home. After all, if I’m gonna put new flooring in the kitchen, why not get rid of that nasty carpet and do the entire place? Except for the bathrooms, of course. I’ve been meaning to replace the ugly linoleum with some snazzy tile. And upgrade the tub in the guest bath. And put a walk-in shower in the master. Once I decide on the design for both of them, of course. I’ll see if I can find some ideas online.

Two months later with the soffits removed, a narrow strip of ceiling remains above the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by partially exposed studs and rafters. It’ll be coming down, too, so I can upgrade the lighting. Looks like 700 square feet of laminate flooring will run around $2,000, plus installation. If I shop carefully, I can get a new fridge for under a grand. Then I can tackle the bathrooms.

 I’ve gone back to that web site with all the pictures several times to troll for ideas. Hundreds of photos into it without a eureka moment, I’ve decided I’m much better at building than I am at design.

I still love my sister, even when she asks me when I’m going to get the stove out of her garage. I tell her I’m not sure I can afford it anymore. She says, “But it’s free.”

Yeah, right.


---Mike McClanahan

Friday, April 11, 2014

Doggie Dramas

I was recently asked by a client to do an article about "Amazing Dog Reunions" for a doggie daycare center.
Here's my exchange with him. Fortunately, he has a sense of humor.

Me: Not sure what Amazing Dog Reunions is supposed to be about.
Events at MHM? Long-lost dogs reunited with owners? Dogs seeing one another for the first time in years?
This can go several ways.
Point me in one.
Client: It think some dog reunions after a long trip.

Me: That seems very visual to me and better suited to YouTube or Facebook videos.
Verbally, it’s kinda weak unless I go all literary on it.
Here are some possibilities:

Straight account:
We came home. The dog was very excited to see us when we picked it up at MHM. It barked, jumped, squealed, and peed on the floor. It was so excited that it peed in the car on the way home, too. We had to sell the car.

Literary account (romantic):
My heart was pounding as I approached the kennel where Bruno had spent the week. Would he still love me or would he reject me like so many other males in my life? I had my answer when the wire gate was opened. Bruno leapt onto my eager body, forcing me onto my back, and began licking softly at the drops of blood that had formed where he had lacerated my heaving breast while pawing me passionately. The air was ripe with the aroma of love. I stopped at the market on the way home and bought a large jar of peanut butter.

Literary account (hard-boiled detective):
It was time to spring the bitch from the cage that had been her prison for the last ten days. As I approached her pen, she lay motionless. Her dark, dewy eyes followed me across the room. She growled softly as I opened the door. It was a familiar sound, but I never knew whether it was a come-on or a warning. I took a chance.
“How ya doin’, babe?” I asked nonchalantly.
Another rumble emanated from deep inside her. She sprang at me, teeth bared.
I grabbed her by the silky hair on the back of her neck before she could rip out my throat. It was a neck I knew well.
I held her face defiantly close to mine. The heat of her breath was enough to curdle a mother’s milk.
Then suddenly, the tension flowed from her body like an ebbing tide and she began kissing me eagerly on every square inch of my face.
Dames are like that.


Or we could come up with another idea.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

I'm just putting this thing together, so bear with me while I figure it out.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

In Memoriam 21 May 1943


May 21, 2013
Seventy years ago today, 2nd Lieutenant Roscoe V. Black, Jr. was awakened  at 2:30 AM British Double Summer Time for his fourth combat mission along with several hundred other men of the 91st Heavy Bombardment Group stationed near Bassingbourn, a hamlet in the British countryside a few miles south of Cambridge. At the briefing shortly after 3 AM the men were told that this would be a "maximum effort" mission to the shipbuilding yards at Wilhelmshaven, Germany.

These shipyards were of vital strategic importance, and previous attempts to disable them had been unsuccessful. Today every available plane and crew of the 1st Bombardment Wing would attack the German port city. The 91st would lead the mission.  Bombers of the 4th Wing would mount a second attack on Emden. Takeoff was at 10 o'clock and opposition was expected to be heavy.

When the crews headed for the dispersal areas after breakfast to ready their planes, the weather was marginal with low clouds throughout the area. The 91st would be joined on the mission by the two squadrons of the new 94th Bomb Group that were temporarily housed at Bassingbourn while their base was being completed. The 94th would take off after the 91st had formed up and would follow them to the target.

The weather enroute was even worse than over England. By the middle of the North Sea, the formation was flying over a cloud cover that varied from 80 to 100 percent. But as they approached the German coast from the northwest, the clouds broke. Under the clouds, though, was a heavy ground haze compounded by a thick smoke screen put up by the enemy in anticipation of the raid.

As the bombers approached the target area, they noticed a large formation of German fighters standing slightly off the front of the formation. When the B-17s turned into the bomb run, the fighters jumped them. Between 100 and 150 single- and twin-engine fighters began relentless frontal attacks on the 91st in larger-than-normal groups of up to twelve aircraft at a time.

Rather than breaking off their attacks and reforming for another assault as was their custom, the Germans dove daringly through the bomber formation while other fighters attacked from the flanks and below from the rear in a desperate attempt to disrupt and scatter the bombers so the assault on the target would be ineffective. It was one of the most aggressive attacks the 91st had ever seen.

Several of the 91st's lead group were shot up, including the lead plane piloted by Captain Clancy with the new CO Colonel Reid onboard as copilot. It took a cannon shot in the nose compartment, disabling its navigation and  bombing gear as well as knocking out the oxygen system, causing it to jettison its bomb load and descend to a lower altitude so its crew could  breathe.

The Group began reforming on the deputy lead, but the brief time it had loosened up allowed the determined German fighters to break through and attack inside as well as from the perimeter. The formation eventually pulled together and pushed on to the aiming point to deliver their bombs.

As the bombers approached the target, the fighters pulled back to avoid the intense antiaircraft fire from the ground, but not before more fighters flying high above them unloosed a barrage of aerial bombs. While not having the intended effect of blowing the planes out of the air, the new tactic nonetheless caused considerable concern as the crews watched the bombs fall past their ships.

The Group dropped its bombs relatively effectively, considering the circumstances, causing a great deal of damage to the port area and the support facilities nearby. But the German fighters were not yet through with the 91st.

The vicious frontal attacks continued, this time concentrating on the exposed right flank of the lead formation. Lt. Retchin's plane from the 323rd Squadron, flying "Tail End Charlie" in the second element, had already been hit and it dropped out of formation before the bomb drop. Now fighters poured into the gap behind the second element, concentrating on the six planes in the middle of the pattern.

The 324th, leading B Flight, took the brunt of the attack. Marie Jane, that day’s lead due to the retirement of The Memphis Belle two days earlier, was hit and went down with its entire crew. Two planes behind, Lt. Koll's Desperate Journey, leading the second element was hit and going down, too.

Off Desperate Journey’s right wing, 1Lt. Jack Miller and copilot 2Lt. Roscoe Black in 857 were jumped by six FW-190s that raked their left side with machine gun and cannon fire. Fire broke out in the No. 1 and 2 engines on the left and threatened to engulf the entire wing.

When Jack hit the alarm bell signaling the crew to bail out, Tail Gunner Newell Lane went out his back escape door. Bombardier David Snow made it out the bottom nose hatch and Ball Turret Gunner "Shorty" Trahan dropped straight out of  the escape hatch in his turret.

While Miller kept the plane as steady as he could, the other men moved to their assigned bailout spots. Navigator John Ragsdale worked his way toward the nose hatch to avoid the raging fire that threatened to melt the left wing off. Oscar Stuart probably sent out a distress signal from his radio room before heading for the bomb bay to jump. The waist gunners, Ron Taylor and Curtiss Pope, struggled toward the crew door on the right side of the tail as the plane began losing altitude quickly and threatened to go into a spin.

Bill Spofford, the Flight Engineer and Top Turret Gunner, kept his parachute stowed behind Lt. Black's copilot seat. As he came down from the turret for his 'chute, Black was standing by the seat, ready to head for the bomb bay just ahead of Miller as soon as Jack was ready to let the ship go. Black stopped to help Spofford get his ‘chute on and Spofford went through the bulkhead door to the bomb bay and out of the plane.

Seconds earlier, Dave Snow's 'chute had deployed and he looked up at the burning wreck he had just escaped. As he saw Spofford fall from the bomb bay and open his parachute, 857 exploded in a ball of flame, trapping the other six crewmen inside. It plunged to the ground in its death spiral just outside the German town of Jevers, where it remained until the end of the war, a twisted wreck entombing the six men who rode it down.

The 91st lost forty good men that day. Some made it out of their Fortresses and into German prisons.  25 died.  On this, the 70th anniversary of their deaths, let us remember the sacrifices they made so that we might live today in freedom.


IN MEMORIAM
21 May 1943
41-24515  DF-H  324th Squadron  "Marie Jane"
1Lt Phillip S. Fischer, Pilot, MIA
1Lt Charles W. Freschauf, Copilot, MIA
2Lt Rollin P. Ball, Navigator, MIA
1Lt John W. Joslin, Jr., Bombardier, MIA
TSgt Herbert H. Harvey, Flight Engineer, MIA
SSgt Mark W. Margason, Radio Operator, MIA
SSgt Robert W. Cole, Ball Turret Gunner, MIA
SSgt Sidney L. Kohn, Waist Gunner, MIA
SSgt Willard O. Simpson, Waist Gunner, MIA
SSgt Jearld H. Jones, Tail Gunner, MIA

42-5857  DF-J  324th Squadron  Unnamed
1Lt John H. Miller, Pilot, KIA
2Lt R. V. Black, Jr., Copilot, KIA
2Lt John P. Ragsdale, Navigator, KIA
2Lt David F. Snow, Bombardier, POW
TSgt William D. Spofford, Flight Engineer, POW
TSgt Oscar L. Stuart, Radio Operator, KIA
SSgt Francis Trahan, Ball Turret Gunner, POW
SSgt Ronald Taylor, Waist Gunner, KIA
SSgt Curtiss B. Pope, Waist Gunner, KIA
SSgt Newell R. Lane, Tail Gunner, POW

42-3053  DF-Z  324th Squadron  "Desperate Journey"
1Lt Norbert D. Koll, Pilot, KIA
2Lt Wayne L. Buck, Copilot, KIA
2Lt Joseph H. Frey, Navigator, POW
2Lt Edwin H. Bruton, Bombardier, KIA
TSgt Albert W. Zaverl, Flight Engineer, KIA
TSgt Alfredo L. Davila, Radio Operator, KIA
SSgt Robert J. Abt, Ball Turret Gunner, POW
SSgt Guy F. Wyatt, Waist Gunner, KIA
Sgt Elwin J. Roberts, Waist Gunner, KIA
SSgt William L. Calligan, Jr, Tail Gunner, KIA

42-29657  OR-X  323rd Squadron  Unnamed
Lt. Norman Retchin, Pilot, POW
Lt Lamberson, Copilot, POW
Lt. Floyd, Navigator, POW
Lt Byrnes, Bombardier, POW
SSgt Joseph O. Wing, Flight Engineer, KIA
TSgt Anderw J. Musik, Radio Operator, POW
SSgt Cloren A. “Bud” Meade, Ball Turret Gunner, POW
TSgt E. E. Kalfsbeck, Waist Gunner, POW
SSgt Charles L. Huber, Waist Gunner, POW
SSgt John A. Conard, Tail Gunner, POW

Mike McClanahan
Nephew of 2Lt. Roscoe V. Black, Jr.