What you see here, is a truly horrible end to a truly horrible day!!! I decided to make my crankshaft as a built up unit, pinned and silver soldered together from seperate pieces. All went well, and I had everything drilled, reamed, centered, trued, and silver soldered, ready for cleanup. Then I got the TELEPHONE CALL. A very east indian sounding chap, telling me was from Microsoft, and that my computer was downloading error messages and overwhelming the local server. I am not as a usual matter of course a gullible old fool, but this fellow sounded very sincere. He directed me to a place deep in the guts of my computer and sure enough, there were a whole
#$@t load of big red error messages. Now my spider senses had started to tingle a bit, but then again, damn near every place that has a tech help division now operates out of India. He informed me that if this wasn't fixed at once, it could possibly crash my computer and lose all of my files, yada, yada, yada. However, rescue was at hand, because if I would just give him access to my computer he could set things right for the low, low price of $149 payable thru PayPal. ---And that he would install some software that was good for the next 3 years to prevent this happening again.----So I did. Then my good wife, being the ever diligent watchdog that she is went online, looked it up, and sure enough, the whole damn thing was a scam. The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of cancelling bank cards, changing passwords, changing accounts, changing online access codes, calling Vissa, calling Paypal, visiting local banks, removing added software from my computers hard drive, running malware and anti virus programs, phoning computer repair shops (who in my opinion are only one notch better than the scammers).--In short, a totally dreadfull experience. At the end of the day, when things had sttled down, I decided that something to calm my mind was in order, so I went down to my little shop and decided to begin final clean-up and machining of the crankshaft. I got the center cut out, the shaft mounted between centers with one leg running past a chuck jaw to act as a drive dog, and very carefully cleaned up one side. Then I changed to an opposite hand tool and just started to very carefully clean up the other side, when "WHAM--CLUNK"--a horrible end to a horrible day. I may spend the rest of the winter hiding in my bedroom contemplating my navel, or maybe take up needlepoint.----Brian