Today, 75 years ago, at 9am Tokyo time, the Japanese government and military signed the articles of surrender on the deck of the USS Missouri. Marking the end of the most deadly war in the history of the world. Lost lives are estimated to be at least 91,000,000 from all causes, military and civilian. This represents 3-3.7% of the world's population in 1939.

This is a Singer 401. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

Full Metal Jacket analogies aside, the 401 is an excellent machine. It has all-metal internals, comes with many stitches pre-programmed by the virtue of having an internal cam stack. It can also accept an array of swappable cams for even more stitches.

But it has some drawbacks. Despite being manufactured in the 1950's, the foot pedal (technically called the 'motor controller') is the same model that Singer used since the 1920's. It's a graduated resistor, that lowers resistance until a simple circuit is achieved at full pedal depression. The side effect of this is that when you aren't using the machine, the pedal tends to heat up. Since its resistance is blocking the current flow. Additionally, since carbon tends to build up on the disks in the resistor, older pedals tend to make the machine leap into action with not a lot of control at slower speeds.

Which is a problem.

There's a later series of machines called Touch & Sew, called Touch & Throw or Touch & Swear by afficionados. They have a more powerful two speed motor with an electronic motor controller. By a quirk of manufacture, the motor in the T & S machine is the same physical size as the one in a 401. So, with some simple mechanical skill, a bit of soldering a little fabrication and a whole lot of creative cursing, you can upgrade a 401.

Well, the addiction to classic Singers continues.

I picked up this well-loved beauty along with a knackered treadle base for the princely sum of $8. It's a Singer 66 'redeye'.

The unit below was purchased for $50. During cleaning I discovered that someone had been inside without knowing what was going on. The foot controller was disassembled, and stuffed back into the housing any old which-way. The machine internals were misassembled in such a way that one of the critical washers was bent. It is made from hard steel. I'm impressed and a little torqued off. Anyway, I scavenged parts to get it running. It's a Singer 99, a 3/4 version of the 66. It was made in 1955, electric from the factory, with a mechanical reverse and capable for making 30 stitches to an inch. It's got pristine decals and nearly flawless paint. I'm sorely tempted to keep it. But it's likely going to be a candidate for some horse-trading.

Below you can see it as purchased and after about four hours of cleaning.

This base weighs 80 pounds. I moved it three times today, each time by myself. Once out of the home of the elderly couple that was selling it and into my truck. The second time out of my truck and into my living room. The third time up a flight of stairs into my office/workshop/den of geekery. 

I have died. Or I think I want to die.

I did survive long enough to mount my period-correct 127 into the treadle base. I have a belt on the way from Amazon. Sometime Monday evening I'll give it a live test run.

The treadle base also came with a gorgeous Singer model 66. Unchipped  base, fuly intact decals, 1925 build date. It's missing a few parts, but those are all easily obtainable. It's gummed up from sitting. So, a few hours of cleaning will be invested in solving that problem. Then, I don't know? Get rid of it? It's really nice. But I can't keep them all.

As a bonus I was given a Singer 237. A nice, all metal, electric. It's going to get cleaned and probably recycled to market.

I've decided to expand my creative frontiers. Being practical, I figured I'd start small. I'd recently acquired a sewing machine to repair jeans. Since I don't believe in buyinng cheap tools that need replacing, I of course, bought a Singer made in 1950 without plastic gears. 

When I decided to try my hand at small leather goods, I hit the internet to see if my sewing machine would sew leather. It will, but it is not recommended for a steady diet. Or thicker leathers in any quantity. But I did find a recommendation for an affordable machine that will sew any leather that will fit under the presser foot.

As purchased for a whopping $60.

It's a Singer 127, made in 1923. I spent 3 1/2 hours bathing it in mineral oil to remove the accumulated petroleum oil (Bad owner! Bad! No cookie! Sewing machines are oiled with mineral oil, only)  I was pulling dust bunny mummies out of the insides. Bits of lint that had soaked in the oil and then hardened into nightmarish tar balls.

Have you ever wondered where your industry got its start? Since a lot of us are in IT, I bet you're thinking WW2 and the codebreakers at Bletchley Park, Alan Turing and all the rest.

Would you be surprised if I told you it was the loom? Or even further back, the water wheel?

In the 1970's the BBC produced an absolutely brilliant documentary series call Connections, hosted by James Burke. It had a wonderful way of showing technology advancing, not by a solitary inventor, but by taking the work of someone else, often in a completely different field and applying it to the problem they were working on. It's absolutely mind blowing.

Fortunately the internet archive has all three series available to stream, for free. Each episode is about 45 minutes long. There's a lot of anachronisms, the World Trade Center towers make a frequent appearance, for those touched by the events of 9-11, be warned. But, if you have the time, I promise that it will not be wasted.

https://archive.org/details/ConnectionsByJamesBurke/Connections/

And if you want to see the origin of IT.

https://archive.org/details/ConnectionsByJamesBurke/Connections/Season+1/Connections+S01E04+-+Faith+in+Numbers.mp4

Google sends you a monthly map of everyplace you've been the previous month. If you're like me, and based on experience, you're probably not, this has always struck me as a little big-brother-ish. Hmm, thinks I. Can I add navigation to my truck? Sure enough, there's ways. Now usually when I'm adding a factory option that didn't come with my vehicle I will ply one of my favorite you-pull-it salvage yards. But it seems that Ford used a module that is coded for the VIN of your particular vehicle. And to get a used module re-coded, requires you to bring a large valise full of money to a dealer. Or just getting a Ford dealer to install a new module requires a foot locker full of money.

TO THE INTERNET!

Yes, as it turns out, there are a multiple companies who sell the module, cutom coded to your VIN. Although you have to do the installation, it lands somewhere between a valise and a footlocker. Call it a large suitcase full of money.

What ho, let's check Ebay. And again, there are plenty of people selling the module. Some as low as $100. But excluding anybody not in the US (easier to wrangle a refund if the part is bogus) The lowest price was still above walking around money, but about one third of the price that Ford would want to install their component. After receiving a windfall from the department of unclaimed property, I pulled the trigger, bought the part and sent the seller my VIN.

The part arrived in five days. I had taken the time to review the installation procedure. Fairly easy, no special tools required. One heartening sign, when I opened the box the seller had included a printed out copy of my truck's build sheet. Obviously the seller has an in with Ford technical support. The process was supposed to take an hour, I had it installed in half that time. Nav works great. I didn't even lose my radio or satellite presets. All I had to do was re-pair my phone to the truck and join my home wifi.

I am sure my descendants will be Morlocks, maintaining machines and popping up to the surface to have the Eloi descendants of politicians, phone sanitizers and marketing wonks down for dinner.

I'm just getting into the swing of going back to work, after 75 days on lockdown. So, as is my custom, I made a breakfast wrap this morning, took it into the living room to catch the weather and traffic (which is still blessedly light). When I was finished, I took my plate to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee for the road and left.

I got to work and thought, did I leave the stove on? No, couldn't have. I'd have smelled scorched skillet while I was eating and watching the tube. After work I went to the grocery store, picked up a few things and went home. I let me dog out and went to stand in front of the fridge to put away the groceries and felt the heat radiating from the front burner, skillet still on it.

A horrified glance at the knob confirmed, yes, Ray, you Red Forman grade dumbass, you left the stove on. Fortunately the burner was on the lowest setting and the skillet was a carbon steel pan. Which I may or may not have enthused about here. The pan was like, "What? That's all you got?" I may have taken some working life off that burner, which probably was not rated for nine-ish hours of continuous use.

Fuck.

75 years ago today, one theater of the largest war in history ended. Linked below is the official radio anouncement read by Winston Churchill at three o'clock in the afternoon, in London.

On April 25th, 1976, two men, protesting the US treatment of American Indians, trespassed onto the outfield at Dodger's Stadium in Los Angeles during the bottom of the fourth inning. they put an American flag on the ground, quickly sprayed it with lighter fluid and attepted to set it alight.

While they fumbled with the matches, Rick Monday, an outfielder for the visiting Chicago Cubs, dashed in, snatched up the flag and ran off to the infield with it. Eventually, he brought it to the Dodger's dugout, handing off to Dodger's pitcher Doug Rau. The protestors were arrested and charged with trespassing.

When Monday came up to bat at the top of the fifth inning, the entire stadium gave him a standing ovation. A digital sign in the outfield flashed the message; "Rick Monday... You Made A Great Play..."