The Next Con

The next convention, my attendance sponsored by my employer, involved IT Security.  The theme very much revolved around two teams, red and blue.  The blue team information was system defense.  How to keep the bad guys from doing “X” to you. How to detect attacks.  But the the red team information was very much about how to break into computer systems.  Attacks that work.  There were also sessions on how to exploit the weakest link in the chain, the humans, social engineering.  

My favorite quote from the event began with, “There is a complex ethical spectrum…”

It was interesting to see where some of this stuff was at because it has been a while.  Getting “work” to pay for a conference is complicated.  I have been through it a few times.  Paperwork submitted months in advance, every single time it gets approved in the last 48 hours.  It used to bother me more.  Now, I just go into it with that expectation and I have been the happier for it.  

It had been a number of years since I have been to one of these.  In the first session speakers admitted how much better security has become across the board.  How doing some of these attacks is really, really, hard.  Possible, still in many cases, but really hard.  They might involve months of work, design and planning.   He actually managed to wax rhapsodic over the glory days of fifteen years ago where you could program an attack in a couple hours that would be one hundred percent effective.  I am really happy he said those words.

Day one was very interesting.  

Hacking hotel security safes

By day two, at some point early afternoon, I realized it had been a while since I had understood anything that was said.  I still stuck it out.  Some of the scenario stories leading up to whatever mind bogglingly complex attack they were about to employ were interesting.

There was one speaker who used the word elucidate in her talk.  Style points!  Well done!

Here is something new.  AI Voice cloning.  With just a small sample of the voice you want to clone you can feed it into a web site and get back any speech you want.  An example would be to contact the mark’s boss to let them know the cooking class they had signed up for was cancelled. The boss will be surprised by this because they had not signed up for a cooking class.  …You know, the class you just made up.  In the resulting confusion a large enough voice sample will be captured to allow you, the attacker to clone the voice and use it to call the mark in their boss’s voice and convince them to reveal some private information.  This was a wow moment for me.

There is balance.  Between sessions I like hanging around the speakers as they come off stage.  I learn more from the questions that get asked than the talk.  Again though, woven throughout all this, is how much harder it has become.  Good for us.  Humanity, I mean.  We have learned, fixed things, and made improvements.  It was a long hard slog in the trenches that got us here.

The conference took a ninety minute lunch so I got about an hour walk in.  I knew some of the details of the movie Pretty Woman were set in Hollywood.  I started doing a little searching around  on Google and discovered “Stallone’s House” as pointed out by the bum when Richard Gere was driving the Lotus, was only six blocks walk from where the conference was held.  I *had* to go. Disappointment on arrival, that section of the block had been raised for new construction.  Stallone’s house is no more.

Never a shortage of taco bars
in Southern California!

I have been to after-hours parties of the organization that puts on this brand of security conferences before.  This one was no different than any of the others.  The difference was, coming into this one, I had just two weeks prior come from SuperCon the micro controller conference.  Two weeks before, I was immersed into all of those absolutely obsessed hardware hackers.  Ok, here’s an example.  The LA group had a happy hour.  There were also some sessions going on at the back of the bar.  Four people had laptops.  At SuperCon, during happy hour, 90% of the people kept working.  A percent of them went and got a beer and took it back to where they continued to work.  Some of them seemed too focused for even that.  Whatever they were designing, crafting, giving demos, exchanging information, showing off, whatever *that* was, that came first.

I did attend the rooftop session.  Oh, and I did have a laptop, though I did not deploy it.  First off, let me say it was amazing to be on the roof of the hotel.  The weather was perfect.  The Hollywood Roosevelt is right in the thick of it and the view everywhere was incredible.  The only thing missing, a view of the Hollywood sign.  There was another taller hotel blocking that particular view. 

The session was about hacking into the “Internet of Things” or IOT devices.  This is starting to become everything you buy.  Your TV, security cameras, house thermostats, microwave, spa, *door locks*, KIDS TOYS!  All of that stuff wants to connect up to your wifi.  Once connected, all of it is trivial to break into if you are on the same wifi.  (Don’t give out your home Wi-Fi info!!! Buy a router that has the capability of a guest network!)  Scarier though, some of it, if the right conditions can be manufactured, can be hacked into from anywhere in the world.  

Who doesn't need a wifi enabled toothbrush?

Having these devices is so cool and leading edge.  But the actual technology, software & chips, running all those things is almost twenty years out of date security-wise.  They run the software and chips they do because they can be purchased for pennies.  Even big companies, like TV manufactures, cut this corner.  When you report a bug to a company like this there is every possibility they will attack the reporter and attempt to sue. There is also high odds that if they fix some security problem, if you check a few years later  the bug will be back, indicating at some point they started over.  I thought this whole talk was fascinating.  

Later that night, no big surprise, I ran into a bunch of Pokemon players.  A group of us  went out walking and  took over a section of the city, captured gyms, spun Poke Stops and caught characters. We helped one of the team toward achieving a goal.  In that group of five, I was second to the lowest ranked player.  It was a fun walk.

The BV sits Just visible, bathed
in the cool glow of high intensity
security lighting. 

Van wise, between google map research and my recon nights I found a surface lot just a block and a half from the hotel that had twenty four hour parking.  Half a block off Hollywood Blvd.  It was the noisiest place I have ever parked. The most visible I have ever parked, and in an area with real crime.  At night that parking lot was lit up brighter than a sunny California day.  I am a good sleeper, for all I know everyone started to whisper a few minutes after I laid down my head.  I didn’t have any problems, but two nights there was enough for me.

Hooray For Hollywood

I know you were dying to hear.  Montezuma was a miss.  I got lucky I guess.  Man, it was a good margarita too.  Perfect, both of them.  Maybe the best two margaritas of my entire life.  I am really glad their memory didn’t get tarnished. 

At this point the trip needed to take on an official tone.  I had a work conference to attend at the end of the week, I couldn’t have any van related problems while attending that.  To that end I was landing in LA a few days early to locate close, safe, parking the van could sit in all day.  I had done a fair amount of research before arriving.  Done some “driving around” via Google Street View so I knew the general area.  When I got there though, wow! Traffic was bad.  Finding even a short term parking spot to do walk around reconnaissance was very difficult.  Eventually I found a pay spot and got out to walk around the general area I wanted to land in.  I found a really nice spot next to a grocery store.  Grocery stores are great spots for the van to blend in.

Barnsdall Art Museum, closed.

My other mission, after I found my overnight parking spot, was to see if I could get a good picture of the Hollywood sign.  I used my phone to kind of guess the direction to walk.  When I thought the angle was right I tried to walk up into a neighborhood with hopes of getting a clear view of it.  At one point I stopped a young fellow who was walking toward me.  I asked him if there were any scenic views of the sign.  He assured me that if I simply went straight forward there would be two spectacular views.  If I went far enough.  I realize now… That young man was bullshitting me. The street was a steep, tree enclosed cave with no cell signal until I was far beyond the sign.  Ah well, they gotta have fun too.

The sad American Margarita
I had to celebrate my survival.

It was getting dark when I arrived back at the van, there was a shady dude casing it.  I think he was waiting for his moment when the street was empty and I showed up too early.  Then, to add another layer to the drama, I was a little low on gas.  A little under a quarter tank when I pulled into the spot.  But the spot was sharply angled down on the passenger side.  Deep gutters here in LA. So when I started the engine, a little bit shaken up by the shady dude who is now giving me the stink eye, the first thing that happened is the low fuel warning pinged.  As I pulled out on the street the gauge stayed at rock bottom empty. The dash lit up with the message “LOW FUEL RANGE!”  In my head I ran through all the possible scenarios of someone cutting a fuel line to chase after me.  Finally, I think it was about four blocks later the gauge started going back up.  My guess is the fuel tank sensor must have been on the uphill side of the tank and it takes its sweet time to update the gauge.

The next day I got lucky again when I found a perfect spot to work from.  A Frank Lloyd Wright designed art museum that was closed for repairs.  Side note: I bet the roof leaks.  Anyway, the grassy hill surrounding the building was available to walkers.  Their parking lot was beautifully landscaped, barely occupied, and had great solar so I got my batteries charged up to a hundred percent.  The temperatures for working inside the van were perfect.  Three mornings I pulled into this museum parking at 6:30am from my night spot at the grocery store.  I put my Starlink dish on the roof of the van and logged in.  What a great way to work!  Perfect temperatures and amazing tacos just outside my door!

At the end of the day I would drive somewhere close to where the conference was going to be held and walk around.  During this daily moving around I kept being wow’d by suddenly seeing some name or some place I have heard of for years.  I don’t think I have ever before felt the level of surreal I felt in LA. I can’t count the number of times I walked or drove and sang Sheryl Crow’s, _All I Wanna Do_ when crossing Santa Monica Boulevard.  It was crazy, and it was fun!  I think it has been my favorite part of being here in California.

This is already getting long but I am going to slide in one other story.  It was just too good.  The BV is just what its initials imply, Big. Van.  I am big. I am old, rolling up on 300k miles.  I am heavy, because my van is plush and I love collecting rocks.  So I am super slow, and being careful.  This van is everything I own these days.  About mid block at one point I picked up a large black Mercedes on my back bumper.  At the end, I turned right onto a busy four lane street.  I was in the first (slow) lane and the traffic in the fast lane was zooming by and heavy.  The Mercedes was back on me in seconds.  Trying to get around but there was never a break in traffic.  Suddenly there was and he shot into it.  Flying past with his horn blaring.  Once in front, his head was turned toward me and giving me the finger because of how slow I was driving.  I was in fact slowing down. The light at the upcoming intersection was yellow.  There was another guy making a left hand turn from the oncoming traffic, he gunned it to get out of the intersection.  Whack!  Karma!  The oncoming traffic guy never stopped.  He just kept going.  After a moment the Mercedes guy took off after him.  Man, it’s exciting out here!  I was pricing dash cams later that night.

It was on one of those recon nights I saw another opportunity.   I never miss a chance to experience Indian food.  Just outside of Hollywood I found an Indian place on Google that didn’t look like takeout only.  On the map it was confusing, it seemed like there were three Indian places in the same corner mall.  One was a vegan place.  I was quite sure I didn’t want that one.  So when I arrived, I asked to make sure was not a “vegan only” restaurant.  Or, that’s what I meant to ask.  There were some language issues.  He didn’t understand later when I ordered chicken and had to explain it wasn’t vegan.  It was a confused deal.  

So the guy who took my orders, I feel like he was the co-owner of the place.  Back in the kitchen, I believe it was his wife who was cooking.  These two people were engaged in an epic scale fight.  She was yelling at him.  The was a second woman  who he was on the phone with yelling at him as well.  At one point four or five people, the employees, scurried out from the back and hung out in the dining area with me.  It was an interesting study looking at their faces.  The Mexican dishwasher looking nervous, what happens to his job if they don’t resolve this?  A young woman looking bored, scrolling through her phone.  A young fellow who seems to be listening to what the woman says and smirking around, he was the scorekeeper. 

It looked so promising!

Big surprise, the food wasn’t good.  I had ordered “Indian hot” because I am convinced these California people don’t know how to properly spice things. What I got was a chicken dish that tasted only of black pepper.  Very disappointing.  The Saag Aloo, spinach and potatoes, was ok, but not creamy at all like it should be. Lastly, the vegetable was not very well spiced.  Didn’t taste good.  It might have been black peppered too.  Definitely a one star experience.

Walking back to the van I dropped off the leftovers with a sleeping homeless man.  A surprise for him when he awakes.  Ethnically he looked like he might review the food much as I had.  But just like me, he would scowl, shake his head, shrug his shoulders and eat it.

All Points South

The first thing my phone told me when my alarm went off at six thirty was that it’s Veterans Day.  I wondered to myself if this is a holiday at my workplace.  I was quite happy to discover a short while later it indeed was!  Minutes after that I had a whole new plan for the day.  I was on the road, coffee’d up and heading south, by eight.

My old friend The Keep told the stories that first got me interested in going to Tijuana.  Mind you, I am too old to live out any of those stories now.  In all honesty, I probably couldn’t have even done them justice back in the day.  But still, the draw was there and I knew from the start, being this close, I had to go.

A little research told me this was going to be a walking adventure.  I could have taken the van over there, into Mexico, I think that would have been no problem.  If I had wanted to stay a few days, I think it could have blended in just fine.  But coming back across the border could easily turn into a nightmare.  The furnace vent is on the drivers side when I would pull up to the border inspector.  When they look underneath it I have some pipes and extra wire, not to mention the cage holding the propane tanks.  They wouldn’t miss that stuff.  There is no way I would get across without them wanting to search the van.  Once into it, the BV is literally packed with nooks and crannies of storage spots as I try to utilize every single cubic inch of my living space. They could spend hours digging through it.  No, there is no way I would take it across for a short trip.  To Mexico City at some point in the future though? Eh, maybe.  

The first hop of the journey was to San Diego.  This is where I first noticed a sharp uptick in the number of homeless.  The vibe of the city was darker.  I had lots of trouble finding overnight parking that seemed safe.  The line between too fancy, where I would stick out, and too sketch, was really thin.  Finally in Little Italy I found a spot.  Unfortunately it was a diagonal parking spot.  I hate those.  They cause the floor to both pitch and yaw, the front passenger wheel being low.  It makes for a funny balance issue, even when the lights are on, to move around in the van.  I was constantly flirting with falling into the downhill wall.

Saturday morning after a top up with some $6.29 gas I drove to the border parking lot and walked across a long bridge into Mexico.  I travel so little I asked to have my passport stamped.  For this I had to fill out a form, answer some questions and after another wait in line, get my passport stamped.   …With ink, so faint, it can *almost* be read in full sunlight.  I had to search through my book twice to even find the page it was on.  My advice?  Don’t be that guy.  Skip the passport stamping.

My only other real out of the country travel (we all know Canada doesn’t count) is going to Italy.  I felt much different in Mexico than I do in Italy.  Maybe I am just naive but I have yet to walk in an area of Italy where I felt the least bit unsafe.  Almost the opposite of Mexico.  I did a few loops around the downtown I felt like there could have been some really good photo opportunities down some of the side streets.  But I elected, almost uncharacteristically so,  to not head down those streets.  

Poverty was common.  I have been a few places where there were are people begging for change.  Nothing at this density however.  The mile walk from the border to the downtown is primarily pharmacies.  Medicines are much cheaper in Mexico and many Americans cross the border to buy them.  Almost any medicine can be bought without a prescription.

In one of my loops around the downtown I walked through about three blocks of prostitutes.  They were advertising, and in some cases even displaying, their wares, on the sidewalks in front of hotel doors.  This was a new experience for me as well.  I was surprised there were that many out at two in the afternoon.  I can’t imagine what it looks like at eleven o’clock at night.

ATM machines are very difficult to find and you will typically have to wait in line to use one.  I found a spot where there was a wall of about a dozen of them.  Roughly half of them were out of order.  Even then there was a five minute wait in line to use one. The first time through, not understanding what I was doing, I took out the wrong amount.  I had to figure out what I had done and get back in line.  Traveling to Europe the advice is to not exchange cash in America but to just hit ATM machines in your destination.  Ironic, I always ignore this advice traveling to Italy, decided to follow it in Mexico and that was a mistake.  There were cash exchange places all along the border.

I bought a Molcajete.  I picked out the biggest one I could lug the two miles back to the border.  I am *pretty sure* this is a real one and not a cast concrete copy.  I would be positive, but there is one line, on one leg, that looks a little bit suspicious.  Maybe it is a seam in the mould, meaning a cast concrete fake.  I hope it is just a mistake in the grinding of the original stone.  I will season it and report back.  If it is the real thing it will it will bond with the seasoning and last for years.  If it is fake, the concrete isn’t hard enough to hold up to the grinding with the pestle.   There will be grit in the salsa.   I guess I can always  plant a cactus in it.

It was fun, after buying the Molcajete, the shop owner asked me if I wanted to try a shot of tequila.  I didn’t even answer, I raised one eyebrow with an, “are you joking” look, crossing any language barrier.  He poured me what he called a soft tequila.  All I know was it was super smooth and nice.  The smoothest tequila I have ever had.  I really wanted to buy a bottle from him.  I have just the friend who would love me for life for a gift like that.  But the weight and the fact it was glass just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

Walking around I was getting thirsty.  Originally I had been thinking about having a beer, when it came to me.  “OMG, I am in MEXICO, I should have a margarita!”  I whipped out my phone, found a margarita place with a cool name, walked there and ordered.  Between the first and second margarita I posted this amazing adventure to Facebook.  An hour later when I checked back in I had a bunch of “ooooh, I would avoid the margaritas” messages.  It seems I had forgotten the properties of what make up ice.  Reading these messages, in my mind, I quickly created a venn diagram.  In one circle, the ingredient list for ice.  In the other, the top item on a list of what you should never drink in Mexico.  Writing this I am on Montezuma watch.  Over 24 hours, not yet 48.

See you on the other side?

Next Level Geeks

I have attended a fair number of conventions over the years.  All of those conventions had their share of obsessed members.  People who were so intensely, and passionately involved in their crafts it was above and beyond hobby or career but instead flirting with the term insanity.  There have even been times in my life where I edged into that spectrum myself.  But I have never seen anything like these people.  This con, when it was over, was nearly indescribable but I am going to try my best.

Friday, day one, was badge hacking.  That was it.  Everyone was programming or soldering parts onto their boards.  But mostly they were talking and sharing information.  Much different from my next closest obsessive-attendee experience,  the Defcon Hackers convention in Las Vegas.  Those people don’t like to share information openly at all.  As a funny aside, since I brought up DefCon, when I was in Phoenix, my host-driveway-owner asked me if this conference I was attending was a “Black Hat” (code words for bad guy) hacker conference.  First off, I was surprised the black hat terminology had made it into the mainstream but I would unequivocally say no, Supercon a propeller hat conference.  

The real difference is at Defcon there is an overwhelming degree of intellectual snobbery.  Asking questions is more than likely going to get you an eye roll and encouragement to “RTFM”, all the while facial expression of arrogant annoyance with your foolishness.

I can say all of this, knowing in the Defcon playing field, I can sort of hold my own.  I have been in IT Security for twenty plus years.  I don’t ask the questions of a moron.  So it was amazing how different Supercon was.  I only learned about micro controllers a couple of years ago.  I spent the first couple of days asking people questions even I knew were dumb.  You know what I got?  Without exception I got a person who was excited to share with me everything they knew about what I asked, plus a bunch of apologies that they didn’t know more, but some advice about resources.  It was incredible how open and sharing every single person I talked to was.   

As an umbrella comment I couldn’t help but notice how much 3-D printing has changed so many prototype projects.  From LED dragon scales  sewn on to your shoulders to Ironman helmets.  Many small projects were able to be made to look so professional with looking parts or enclosures.  The folks that put on Supercon distribute a 3D printer file for the badge circuit board.  Many arrived at the con with enclosures pre-printed.

It was just cool to see and hear about so many things but some of my highlights were… 

A talk by a team of people who came into position of a one of the original Apollo guidance computers which were used in both the capsule and LM.  The one they acquired had never flown but just the time of kicking around and natural degradation made it a big job.  They restored it to working order.  I missed the first half but the second half was quite amazing.  It used a very old type of computer memory that hasn’t been in use since the invention of the transistor.  

A great talk by a pilot who encouraged people to join the Experimental Aircraft Association.  He had built his own plane and explained how it is a machine you then fully understand.  Because of this you get the latitude from the FAA to add features and accessories other pilots can only dream about.  An example was some 3D printed parts as stall detectors.  Installing something like that on your factory Cessna, due to FAA regulations, is impossible.  But on an experimental aircraft it is no problem at all.  It is an experiment, is it not?

I talked to a guy who connected a wire to each one of his guitar frets, and a ground wire to the bridge of an electric guitar.  Now by installing a current sensor on each wire he can determine what fret is being played.  He can then program a microcontroller to make some decisions based on the fret.  For instance one effect peddle when the upper neck and being played, a different effect for the lowers.  It was an interesting project.

Addressable LEDs in a lite flexible format.

There were several talks regarding textiles.  From robotic-companion stuffed toys to 3-D printed, fabric covered balls and toys.  But one I found particularly interesting was involving the improvements made to individually addressable (WS2812) LEDs.  I have used these types of LEDs in clothing projects but they were big and clunky.  I modified a unicorn pajama/onesy costume with a built in microphone so the LEDs with flash with the music and change color depending on the average frequencies.  …I looked badass in it, btw.    I also worked with my friend, The Seamstress,  who made herself a skirt with fiber optics to attend the Lady Gaga concert.  I did the programming using the LEDs to just do a revolving color spectrum.  Again, they were bulky.  No woman really wants to add four inches to her waistline even if she knows they are just LEDs.  The new ones I saw were tiny and super flexible.  I wrote The Seamstress from the presentation and told her we *have* to use these for something!

The microcontroller bartender

Bartenders are great people but sometimes you just don’t have the money to hire them for an event you want to host.  You want basic drinks served.  Nothing fancy.  That was the spark to lead a team to build an automated drink maker.  It used peristaltic pumps controlled by a micro controller.  The idea was, put ice in your glass, set it under the nozzle, push a button for your selection and the machine would dispense correct proportions of drink and mix. You aren’t going to get “shaken, not stirred” from this device but you want a rum and coke?  Bada-bing, you got it. 

I met a woman from Minnesota who works with a company building self contained pollution monitoring boxes.  This is something I know a little about.  I have worked with pollution data for years.  I got to tag along on a couple of times  in the early days.  Back when a pollution monitoring station was the size of a large garden shed.  It had to have electricity run to it and if possible landline telephone service.  The station would collect the data from the VOC/SO2 monitors and transfer it back to the home office via modem once per day.  

Particulate (dust/dirt/smog) monitors were only monitored weekly.  We had very, very accurate scale we would use to weigh a piece of filter material, install it, come back in a week and swap it out and weigh the old one.  Using this method we could determine how much particulate matter 10 microns and larger, were in the air.   Here was this woman holding something, roughly an eight inch cube, that by only adding a few extra parts inside of it, could do everything an entire building of equipment used to do.  She was there with her boss and the two of them were attempting to hack their badges to be an environmental monitor.  They asked me to get involved…Ok, ok, this sounds geeky, I happened to have a particulate pollutants monitor with me in the van.  I was too involved in the talks though and didn’t really have the time.

I met a guy named Eric Grey and joked with him about us having the same last name.  I called him Mr Grey every time I ran into him from that point forward.   He did a badge hack where he reprogrammed the micro controller installed on the badge and allowed you to switch into a mode where using the buttons, you could play the classic arcade game, Astroids.  Amazing!

My lame-ass badge hack.  Display the
temperature and humidity.

I walked away from this con knowing with absolute certainty I will return next year.  I have never been to one with this degree of open welcomeness.  Such a support structure for helping others succeed.  

Geeks. Geeks everywhere!

The reason for my long drive over the past two weeks is the Hack-a-Day Supercon in Pasadena.  I have been following the web site from which this springs for a couple of years.  This year when I was planning my escape from what I used to consider normal, I ran across their convention in a convenient time block for me.

When I started the van build I had grand plans for its computerization.  I had just discovered SBC’s, single board computers.  These are, just as they are named, an entire computer all built on a single circuit board.  They are small!  But as many users attest, frustratingly millimeters too large to fit into an Altoids tin.  They are called cute names like Raspberry Pi, and I wanted to collect all sorts of data from my van life.  I wrongly assumed because they were small they wouldn’t consume much power.  First, I had video surveillance.  Like your Ring doorbell I had built essentially the same thing for less than $20 each.  I had two up in the cab, one out the side window, one in the back.  All these were running cameras and I had a view of what was going on outside. 

It didn’t stop there.  I have solar panels on the roof.  I bought a solar charge controller capable of putting out a continuous data stream of how much electricity was being collected.  I had another collecting GPS data including heading, pitch and yaw of the van.  Merging all of this data would allow me to build a heat map of my popular parking spots.  I would know where exactly to park to capture the most solar energy on my panels.

It was a short lived experiment. I couldn’t believe the amount of battery power those things consumed.  In the span of a cloudy day or two I had used all my battery power.   An amount I had calculated (without the computers) to last me ten days.

I was bummed.  Technology always falls just shy of dreams.  I suppose that is inherent to the process.

I gave up for a long time.  Then comes 2020.  Not much to do.  I started learning about micro controllers.  These tiny little computers are programmed to repeat single tasks.  But if you program them cleverly, those tasks can be quite complex.  

One of my first projects was sparked by font size.  My house had one of those fancy thermostats with a dozen and a half buttons.  It was programmable and all this fancy stuff can be done with it.  …I mean, maybe you could do those things.  I never could figure the damned thing out.  The instructions were printed inside the lid but in about 4pt font.  I could only read it with cheaters and a bright light.  So I used micro controllers to check the temperature and if it was colder than what I had set to turn on the heat.  If it was warmer than I had set, turn the heat off.  You remember how long and boring 2020 was?  By the end of the year I had a controller in each room, I could set the temperature in the four zones of the house via my phone.  I had graphing!  It was just like buying four Nest thermostats and I only invested $30-40.  Plus, it didn’t go through batteries like I own stock in Eveready. 

Unlike the single board computers, these micro controllers use very, very little power.  Here’s how a little computer like this makes my life easier.  I don’t have a refrigerator.  A super efficient fridge like I need is a $700 expense. Plus, I would have to get tricky with how I vent it to stay stealthy.  It would be an expensive add. Money I don’t have.  

I use a cooler.  I have it sitting in a custom sized, insulated, slide out drawer.  (I can never lose this cooler!!!) I keep the cooler filled with ice.  …I say that right?  I just keep the cooler filled with ice.  That’s all I have to do.  In practice it’s tougher to monitor.  I like mayo.  I could happily eat a ham sandwich anytime it is over 60 degrees, which I have committed to be the majority of my life now.  This depends on mayo.  Non-poisonous mayo requires a good ice regimen.  Enter small computers.   I have built a micro controller and a display, with a waterproof probe, to monitor my cooler temperature.  It tells me the warmest the cooler has been in the last 24 hours and what temperature it is right now.  This cost me in the ballpark of fourteen dollars in parts.  It cost me this much because I am lazy and bought the parts from Amazon.  I bet with a little work on Ebay and Ali Express I could have done it for half as much.

I am in a whole room of people who do these same types of things to solve the problems in their lives.  Even if the mere fact that the problem exists is the problem to solve.

I am looking forward to this con.  I think it will be an interesting weekend.  The badge to get into the event is a circuit board and a second blank board. The main hall is setup with rows upon rows of soldering stations.  Day one?  Build something interesting using your badge.  I had no idea what to expect.  This certainly was not it.  I was a little bit prepared for something like this but not much.

It was fascinating watching these people come up with ideas.  One person built a proximity radar system that would display as amplitude graphs.  Another built something using some things that looked like vacuum tubes.  You know, geek stuff.  I was overwhelmed.  Tomorrow are the speakers and more badge hacking.  Pasadena is beautiful.  I am sitting at a cafe, outdoors, nine o’clock at night.  A beer in front of me.  The weather is perfect.  Life is good.

Quartzsite Episode One

It was my favorite bartender who first asked me, “Are you going to go to Quartzsite?”  I had no idea what he was talking about.   

The town of Quartzsite Arizona has a population of twenty four hundred and thirteen full time residents. But starting about now until the end of March a million people will have spent at least one night calling Quartzsite home.  A significant number spend the whole season.  

I’ll tell you right up front I am going to spend another two or three nights in the town on the return trip so take all the complaining that follows with a grain of salt.  All in all, so far anyway, my Quartzsite experience was not a good one.  I had a not great interaction with a bartender (a profession I generally hold in high esteem).  I put a coaster on top of my beer bottle while I stepped outside to attend to an urgent Pokémon issue.  I thought this was universal bartender language. Evidently not. 

The memorial for Hi Jolly, one of
Quartzsites founders.

The second problem, just a few minutes later, I stepped into The Outback Pizza bar and landed at a table close to the front. I had just been the driveway guest of some Diamond Back fans.  The game was on and I was watching for their sake.  Bases were loaded, it was looking good.  I looked at my phone for a moment and it was all over.  As a Vikings fan I can commiserate.   Anyway, service sucked at The Outback.  I ended up not eating there, to discover at 7pm my only remaining choice for food was McDonalds.  Luckily I had some indian leftovers.

People don’t go there for the service anyway.  They go for the experience.  The most common reason people go to Quartzsite year after year is because they went once.  They were hooked.  I guess I am just not hooked yet.

Inside Gem World

One of the other reasons people go is for rocks.  There are dozens of rock shops, actually rock warehouses in one case.  Plus several outdoor vendors on the edges.  In the center of town there is something akin to a farmers market for rocks.  I will hit that on the return trip.  I guess thousands of rock vendors descend on Quartzsite the last week in January.

I have a summertime project that could really use some attractive rock so I was very interested in seeing what the shops had.  My first stop was Gem World, right as I came into town.  It was frankly, overwhelming.  Thousands of square feet of shelves filled with rocks.  Pricing, when it is marked at all, is by the pound.  How’s your pound guestimator?  I known mine is totally useless.  

It wasn’t until the next day when I returned I picked out several.  Gem World seemed unwilling to haggle at all but other places were more open to it.  —And tended to be cheaper to begin with.  I think I bought at four more of the indoor shops and they seemed very willing to discount.  …And trust me, I am an amateur grade haggler at best.  The rocks all of these shops were in some cases amazing.  The largest geodes I have ever seen in my life.

As my final stop I pulled into one of the outdoor rock markets just off main street where I dealt with Kreacher of the rock world.  Not unlike a house elf he was a very small man. Made even smaller by his posture, hunched over, his head almost touching his stomach.  He constantly muttered.  I didn’t think it was English at first, or even directed at me.  Then I realized he was telling me the general prices (nothing was marked) and complaining about how few people stop.  Once I had picked some rocks out and agreed on a price with him he was muttering about how angry “the boss” was going to be.  In one of his mutterings he claimed the boss had paid eighty dollars just for one of the rocks I was buying.  I wasn’t paying anything near that for the four rocks I had picked out.  In all of this grumbling I could only hear Kreacher mumbling how angry his mistress would be. 

I did technically park on the BLM land but it was only about a mile out of town and even less distance from Interstate 40.  Even inside the van I heard the constant roar of the freeway.  It was my fault.  When I arrived I got distracted by rock shops, beer, and hopes of pizza.  It was dark when I started looking for a place to park.  There was no stealthing in town.  Everywhere was marked no parking.  My van can totally fool the typical townie.  But in Quartzsite these people were experts at spotting vehicles people sleep in.  Being lazy, I checked at one of the close to sixty RV parks in town but they wanted $54 a night.  No way.  

Once you are off the road, in the dessert of BLM land there are only paths.  Totally fine during the daytime.  At night I had no idea where I was going.   So I went a short distance and gave up.  Still, it was interesting and I do want to try it again.  It will be interesting how many more will have arrived by the time I return in a couple of weeks.   I left Quartzsite mid afternoon bound for Pasadena and hoping to miss heavy traffic.

Too Heavy to Coast

I really hate Google Maps. This spring I drove to Phoenix from Santa Fe.  Prior to this trip I had only ever really driven the BV on flat ground.  The great plains states.  Driving in my blissful ignorance, Google led me on a route with 7-9% downward grades.  I had no idea how to drive a van this heavy down a slope like that and I burned out the brakes.  Warped rotors, I guess.  I don’t know anything about auto mechanics.  All I know is, it cost me $600 to make it all better.  

Fast forward.  This trip I knew the route I want to take.  It’s the way I returned from Phoenix the last trip.  Not the shortest by any means, I drove through Tucson and across through White Sands.  One short exciting part a couple hours east of Tucson.  But this time I would be climbing it.  Otherwise it would be flat.  I was confident.

The night before I had stayed in a bar parking lot.  I asked them, “If I drink too much, can I leave my van in your parking lot?” The answer was a definite yes.  It’s all in the wording of the question.  “Can I sleep in my van in your parking lot?” Might not have gotten as enthusiastic of an answer.  Plus, he doesn’t know I am a two beer drinker.  It was a good spot.  Once the bar closed down it was super quiet and I felt totally safe.

In the morning after coffee, I slid into the pilot’s seat, and plugged my address into Google Maps.  It gave me three options.  The first, the super scary way I went the last time.  Then one other route that looked pretty good most of the way, but then some maybe dodgy stuff at the end.  Then the route I wanted to go.  I pressed on route three (Google told me it was an hour and forty one minutes longer) and pressed start.  All good right?  I hadn’t moved fifty feet before I got a popup.  “Google Maps has found a shorter route, Do you want to take it?”  What’s worse, if you don’t answer it reroutes you.   It is *this* one little *default* at the base of my hate.

I drove, and every few minutes I would get the popup.  I had to look away from the road …down into the cup holder where my phone rides… remove a hand from the wheel and push the button to keep the route I wanted.   I don’t know how it happened. There were some hot air balloons over Albuquerque and I pulled over to look at them.  I think it must have asked the reroute question when it noticed I was gone.  Anyway, I didn’t realize it until too late.  I was not on the scariest road but I was on the scary enough road.  I passed through salt river canyon.  Sorry I don’t have any pictures.  I just wanted to get through it.  A quick glance and a “that’s pretty cool” was all it got.  

The first night I landed in Tucson just a couple blocks away from a venue where I saw a band.  From a coffee shop and a pizza the next day.  I was really impressed.  It was a cool town.  They had done a lot of revitalization work to their original downtown.  It was artsy and funky.  I enjoyed it.  The only down side of it was I parked right next to a bright pink dumpster. I did not realize the significance of this. It was a glass recycle dumpster! Did you know, a city full of people throw away glass at all hours?  I do!  

The next day I rolled into Phoenix.

There was a guy I wanted to meet up with.  But here’s the thing… When I actually wrote it down in a group text message while I was walking to the bar I realized the absurdity of the situations I find myself in.  I just wrote a text message saying “I am about to meet up with some random dude I met in the pub this spring. A guy who gave me tamales.” 

Honestly I think the real danger was the sidewalk getting to the place.  Narrow and right next to traffic moving at speeds above 45mph.

My last visit I had planned on going to a tap room but when I got there it was closed!  I was in luck though.  There was a head shop right next door.  Those people who work in those places always know everything!  They had me steered straight away.  They pointed me to Rum Runner Bar where I met the tamale guy.  I walked away that night with the best tamales I had ever had! 

The pub dog at Rum Runners.

Rum Runners was just as fruitful this trip.  I ended up chatting with a HVAC guy who told stories of the record 2023 heatwave in Phoenix.  He said his business, with the number of employees they have, has a perfect number of clients. That number is seven hundred.  With seven hundred customers it generates the perfect number of service calls to keep all his workers busy without being overloaded.  This summer he was getting seven hundred service calls a day.   He talked about how the manufacturers don’t even make systems rated to meet the cooling needs Arizona now has.  How now he has to cobble systems together.  But even then, the systems are not made to run at 100% capacity that many days in a row.  It was a fascinating talk.   And (!) I got lots of restaurant suggestions!  …Oh, the previous year of record heat? 2020. 

Later  the Tamale Guy arrived. It was great seeing him again.  Talking food and a bunch of my tall tales.  He is idolizing the van life these days.  He promises I will see him out on the road.  I hope he is right. He is a good guy and I sure hope he brings the tamales!