This photo was recently taken at Universal Studios’ Islands of Adventure theme park. This particular one was outside of the Dueling Dragons roller coaster, but they can be seen all over the park, sometimes in variation.

The Walt Disney World theme parks have similar signs but I didn’t manage to snap photos of them.

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[tags]Dueling Dragon, Florida, Islands of Adventure, Orlando, Prosthetic Limbs, Prosthetics, Roller Coasters, Signs, Universal Studios[/tags]

The 18th and 19th centuries saw a huge surge in the popularity of safety coffins – coffins designed to allow the interred to alert the living in the event of a premature burial – and so great is the fear of being buried alive that even today, with all of our medical technology, patents are still being filed for such devices.

An Italian watchmaker named Fabrizio Caselli, as recently as 1995 (RISK-FREE BURIAL, PEDIATRICS Vol. 98 No. 5 November 1996, pp. 960), patented a coffin that includes a flashlight, oxygen tank, intercom system, heart monitor and, from the looks of the photos, a video camera and flashing lights.

I suspect that we’re a bit more proficient than we were two hundred years ago at determining a persons living-or-dead status, so Caselli’s invention may be better aimed towards those above ground who simply don’t want to let go – or perhaps those that have a strange fetish for watching the dead.

If in fact you are one of those strange fetishists, or simply enjoy visiting bizarre cemetery structures, the 1893 grave of Timothy Clark Smith in New Haven, Vermont might be of interest to you.

Located at the Evergreen Cemetery just off Route 7 (a well-traveled and easy-to-find route), Mr. Smith’s grave features a square capstone into which is fitted a 14” x 14” plate of glass, peering into a six foot deep concrete tube leading to the actual grave, underneath which is situated Mr. Smith’s face (though you’d be hard pressed to actually see it). In addition to the viewing window, he was buried with a bell in his hand to use (in vain?) in the event that he needed to signal for help.

Though on the more simplistic side of the safety coffins introduced during that part of our history, the Timothy Clark Smith grave stands as a wonderfully preserved and extremely accessible example of our centuries-long fear of being buried alive.

For more on safety coffin technology, visit the Wikipedia article on the subject. There you will discover that the first recorded construction of a safety coffin was in 1792 at the request of Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick – which included not only a viewing window but also an air tube (which would be my first request) and keys to the specially prepared locks to the coffin and crypt door.

There’s also a book on the subject entitled Buried Alive: The Terrifying History of Our Most Primal Fear.

Though there are “no documented cases of anybody being saved by a safety coffin“, there are plenty of stories of people being buried alive.

As recently as 2001 a 39-year-old Ashland, MA woman – presumed dead – was found gurgling inside her body bag while at a funeral home (okay, maybe we do need those modern safety coffins). She was rushed to the hospital and later released.

In 1993, 40-year-old Coney Island resident Nancy Vitale (wonderfully ironic surname) was declared dead by an incompetent EMS crew, only later to be treated and released from the Coney Island Hospital after a doctor heard – you got it – gurgling noises.

And most remarkably, as late as 1937, Angelo Hays actually made it all the way to full burial for several days before being found alive when insurance inspectors exhumed his body for insurance purposes! He went on to become a minor celebrity in his native France, inventing his own extremely elaborate security coffin and performing for television audiences – though with only 200 to 300 television sets in France as of 1939, I wonder how popular his appearances really were.

The lesson from these stories? When in doubt, gurgle.

Thanks to Boing Boing for the original link to the Vermonter.com article.

For more on premature burial – including even more modern accounts of gurgling – see Just Dying to Get Out

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[tags]angelo hays, burial practices, buried alive, cemeteries, coffins, evergreen cemetery, fabrizio caselli, graves, nancy vitale, new haven, premature burial, safety coffin, timothy clark smith, vermont, weird vermont[/tags]

Casey just recently (re)posted his decade-old skydiving video on Maison Bisson, Cliff beautifully chronicled his own first jump at Z-Hills (Skydive City) over on Spiralbound, so I figure, as I was third to jump, it would only be fitting if I were third to post as well. So here you go!

Each of the three videos has its own unique stand-out features – Casey’s, for those who know him, stands out for how young he looks. Cliff of course was the only one lucky enough to do the AFF program for his first jump, so his stands out for the fact that it really was his jump. Mine? The funny hat! Yes, yes… the Jumptown padded helmets look ridiculously funny on everyone, and I’m no exception.

It was my intention, along with Scott (the reason I did the first jump) and Cliff, to enter the AFF program this season and begin working towards our fully solo jumps and licenses. Alas, after a bizarrely distressing month of unfortunate circumstances the plan had to be taken off the table. But it’s on the back burner still simmering, waiting to move to the fore again by next jump season.

With any luck we’ll find ourselves at Jumptown‘s AFF Camp – a four day intensive training program that takes you from your Category A skydive through your E-2 jump and into solo jumping – then of course we’ll need to log a minimum of 25 solo jumps in order to begin qualifying for our licenses.

I’m getting a bit ahead of myself here – 100+ jumps at least, I’m sure – but I can’t wait to start freeflying. But, one step at a time…

About Jumptown
Jumptown is a skydiving club and dropzone in Orange, MA (70 miles west of Boston). Not only is it the home of the first commercial skydiving center in the United States, it is also the birthplace of sport skydiving itself and the home base of the Massachusetts Sport Parachute Club (dba Jumptown, actually…)

If you visit Jumptown for a tandem skydive, I’d recommend the jumpmaster that I had in a heartbeat. Ask for Kevin Barrett. He’s a fantastically friendly guy, is exceedingly thorough and even makes a great sightseeing tour guide on your way down. You’ll be in great hands that you can trust (though that’s never a question at Jumptown – everything is top-notch!).

Quick Note About Video Editing
The video above was shot by Ben Lowe of Jumptown and provided to me originally on DVD. Naturally I had to rip it from the disc (also performed minor edits) to get it to YouTube, and if you’re anything like me you may have become irritated at the availability of free (and good) ripping programs for the PC. For this one video rip I used Auto Gordian Knot (AutoGK) and not only was it free, it was dead simple! I’d recommend it. AutoGK ripped it to AVI, I then popped it into Windows Movie Maker (all free, simple and low tech – good for basic things), made my edits and exported the movie.

[tags]accelerated freefall, AFF, Auto Gordian Knot, AutoGK, Ben Lowe, Casey Bisson, Cliff Pearson, DVD Ripping, Florida, freeflying, jumptown, Kevin Barrett, massachusetts, Massachusetts Sport Parachute Club, orange, Roderick Russell, skydive, Skydive City, skydiving, skydiving videos, tandem skydiving, United States Parachute Association, USPA, VOB, VOB to AVI, Windows Movie Maker, Z-Hills, Zephyrhills[/tags]

The public outrage regarding high gasoline prices may have died down some since the initial push past $3.00 a gallon that consumers saw two seasons ago, but there is no doubt that drivers still grimace and curse the oil companies as they march to the pump to fill up their cars, trucks and SUVs.

While there is still much debate surrounding whether high gasoline prices are good (and here) for American consumers or not, one thing is certain – we’re all interested in better fuel economy.

Be it a financial concern, desire to lessen your environmental impact and carbon footprint, or simply an attempt to “stick it” to the oil companies, we’d all love to pay less at the pump – but not all pumps are created equal! A recent experiment in my own vehicle led to some interesting surprises.

The story begins with my obsessive-compulsive tendency to watch the dashboard display in my Volvo S60. While always interested in better fuel economy, the need to watch my MPG consumption stems more from habit and compulsion than an attempt to boost the average. Nevertheless, regularly driving 7+ hours one-way, 75% highway, at night (no traffic) and loaded down with roughly 250 pounds of extra cargo (I’m a stage performer) has revealed that my Volvo S60 averages 27 to 28 MPG while running on a higher octane fuel (91 to 93). I fuel up at every possible type of filling station and have used every brand of fuel – at 2am in the middle-of-nowhere, you take what you can get. Always, however, my fuel consumption stays solidly within that 27 to 28 MPG range, unless I’m intentionally trying to boost it with a crawl-and-coast methodology (Don’t laugh! Traveling alone three quarters of the time leads to all sorts of strange behavior.)

That’s why I was surprised when I noticed my average creeping past 29 MPG last July on a trip from central Pennsylvania to Stamford, Connecticut! Round-trip in one day, including stop-and-go city driving, I averaged 29.6 MPG – the highest my rating has been for distance driving in this vehicle, and good news for the people paying my travel expenses.

Curious as to why I was seeing an increase, especially given the city driving and travel on the Connecticut section of I-95 – not recommended, ever – the only contributing factor that I could find was the gas that I filled my tank with in central PA – 92 octane from a Sheetz station. (btw – if you’ve never been to a Sheetz, let me just say that they are brilliant stores! Great fuel, Made-To-Order food, even good coffee! And clean, clean, clean!) At the end of the day though, I chalked it all up to luck, good driving and, well, more luck.

In truth, I didn’t give the good mileage in July a second thought beyond that day, until just yesterday when I filled up yet again at a Sheetz in central Pennsylvania and drove two hours through extremely mountainous Pennsylvania Coal Country, only to emerge on the other side with a 30.1 MPG reading!

Not only had I never seen such a high rating in this vehicle before, but it happened in the mountains, the last place I’d expect it to occur!

Once on the highway I kept a very close eye on the display window and it kept improving. Before long my Volvo was at 31 MPG. This was unprecedented, and those who drive vehicles that boast real-time fuel consumption stats know how difficult it is on long trips to boost your rating by even a few tenths of a mile per gallon – yet here I was, averaging 31 MPG.

This average maintained itself without any special driving on my part, and to test the now fairly convincing theory that my fuel economy was due to the Sheetz station, after 4.5 hours of driving and half of a tank consumed, I filled the now empty portion with Exxon-brand, 93 octane fuel.

My fuel economy plummeted, and quickly. The Exxon/Sheetz blend, continuing on for another 2.5 hours, brought my rating down to a high 28 miles per gallon.

While this is far from a controlled, scientific experiment, there is certainly enough evidence to at least suggest that different brands due indeed lead to different fuel economies. It’s likely that I will repeat the “experiment” under more controlled circumstances that include same time-of-day driving, route, traffic conditions, perhaps even utilization of cruise-control, and I will report the results here. The fact that my vehicle has never seen such a high rating, however, does suggest that there can be a significant difference between filling stations, the fuel that they carry and the resultant performance of said fuel.

Assuming my vehicle typically runs at an average of 28 MPG (usually between 27 and 28, in actuality), a 3 MPG increase as I saw with the Sheetz-brand fuel is almost an 11% increase in performance. An 11% increase is certainly not something that I’d want to dismiss – with the current national average of premium fuel at $3.071, that’s a savings for my vehicle of just over $6 per tank of fuel. That may seem like a small sum – but hell, that’s three cups of very good coffee, enough to last me while driving that tank empty! And for someone like me who drives an awful lot, that difference would have saved me about $260 over this past summer alone – enough to help defray the costs of my domain name being stolen, in fact. Combine savings like that with an even more fuel efficient vehicle and you’ll be saving even more money and a whole lot more of the environment.

While the jury – and the fuel providers – are still undecided, I for one will be listening to the voice of my Volvo and will be seeking out better performing fuels.

Coal Region, Connecticut, driving, Exxon, fuel economy, fuel efficiency, gas, gas prices, gas savings, gasoline, I-95, MTO, Pennsylvania, Sheetz, Volvo, Volvo S60

Okay, okay, so we all know what this *really* means, but I can’t be the only one who finds this humorous. I suppose all doors are technically automatic, if we’re to interpret this sign literally.

[tags]doors, funny signs, rest area, rest stop, travel[/tags]

Making a brief stop in the middle of the night on route I-81, about 25 minutes south of the Virginia/Tennessee border, I found myself eagerly hunting down an energy drink at a convenience store. As much as they run my body down, Red Bull and Full Throttle truly have been my saviors on extensive overnight trips and prior to innumerable shows for which I’d traveled all day to perform.

While my eyes scanned the cases and sifted through the untold amount garbage (including that which I was after), one particular beverage caught my eye. Its squat green glass bottle and vintage-style thick styrofoam label stood out starkly against the sleek metal, atypical shapes and highly stylized colors and designs of the modern energy drinks. It was the name, though, that encouraged me to pick up this rogue bottle: Dr. Enuf.

Dr. Pepper is of course a common enough name, and even the Mr. Pibb name is not yet dead (though the drink is, having given way to Pibb Xtra), but I had simply never heard of Dr. Enuf.

On closer inspection, this oddball beverage became all the more interesting. Printed just below the Dr. Enuf name is their claim: the original energy booster – and there it was, right in the energy drink cooler case! By “original” they mean “since 1949″, but that certainly predates the Red Bulls of our day.

And an energy drink it is! The original (and in this case, the encountered) Dr. Enuf is loaded with sugars and caffeine as well as B-vitamins, while the herbal Dr. Enuf also has Ginseng and Guarana added. While it doesn’t pack quite the punch that some of the other disturbingly effective drinks have, there’s no denying that this truly is a very early example of an energy drink, marketed since its inception in the same manner as the current rash of trendy energy drinks.

Of course I had to buy one (for 99 cents no less!), and while at the counter speaking to the two night clerks I learned that Dr. Enuf is a distinctly Tennessee beverage and that it’s particularly popular with the local UPS drivers.

Little did I know that at that moment I was a mere 20 minutes from the Johnson City bottling and distribution plant of Tri-City Beverages, the original and only bottler of Dr. Enuf since its inception.

A great deal of interesting trivia has been gleaned as a result of this chance encounter. One of my favorites includes the novel marketing push that the bottler, Charles Gordon, executed upon the first release of the drink. From the Dr. Enuf website:

Gordon placed a full-page advertisement on the back page of the Johnson City Press Chronicle identical to the paper’s front page. he then paid carriers to fold the paper backward.

Also of note is that Dr. Enuf and Mountain Dew where originally both bottled by Tri-City Beverages. Mountain Dew was later sold to Pepsi, while Dr. Enuf was retained by the bottler.

And as with any medicinal-style drink, there are the snakeoil-style claims. Also from the Dr. Enuf website:

Early in its development, Dr. Enuf was reported to have several therapeutic effects, including the easing of stomach pains, relief from hangovers and a clearing of the mind.

and

the drink was thought to have the ability to relieve “untold misery” from aches and pains, stomach disturbances, and that tired run-down feeling. Even now, testimonial letters continue to fuel the legend.

These and other claims that I’ve read seem more reminiscent of the late 19th and early 20th century snake oil remedies than a 1949 soft drink.

While I’m personally tickled to see that Jolt Cola from the mid-80′s – at the time a rather niche beverage that was quite ubiquitous in my life during my programming days – is more popular than ever as a result of riding the energy drink wave and fine-tuning its image, it was a delight to run across the vintage-style Dr. Enuf bottle in a modern convenience store and to learn that it’s still thriving without having to sell its soul entirely.

NOTE: Unfortunately, due to air travel and scheduling, I wasn’t able to snap a good picture of the actual bottle that I picked up, which is currently stranded in Pennsylvania. The picture included with this entry doesn’t do the story justice, and as soon as I get my hands on the one that I procured I’ll pop a picture of it up here.

Dr. Enuf, Dr. Pepper, Energy Drinks, Full Throttle, Johnson City, Jolt Cola, Mountain Dew, Mr. Pibb, Red Bull, Snake Oil, TN, Tri-City Beverage

After four days in the Keystone State of Pennsylvania – during which time I had the pleasure of seeing Sharon Isbin play – and a grueling thirteen hours on the road through snow, closed highways and lack-of-sleep-induced delirium, I find myself this week in Nashville, Tennessee.

In town to book my solo show for dates late this year and next, I’m working from the Gaylord Opryland Resort and Convention Center; a sprawling, massive city unto itself, and the largest non-casino hotel in the United States. Though not on the scale of some of the Vegas casinos, the Opryland Resort does feature some stunning indoor environments, including several conservatories and atriums, a series of stunning lobbies with soaring ceilings, beautiful furniture and elegant carpets as well as many restaurants and shops.

Though the facilities are nice, there are some complaints. I’m from the Northeast and am quite accustom to overpriced cities, yet I’ve been astonished at the high prices found here and the startling ability for the Opryland Resort to find a way to charge you for absolutely everything. A poignant example can be had in the fact that though the resort boasts extensive convention facilities, there is no wireless internet access (well, see photo below for the truth of the matter) in the building – that doesn’t sit well with most business travelers and those actually attending the conventions that the property hosts. Access can be had, but at a price and only on one of a mere few wired computers set up for such purposes. Parking is not cheap, food is astronomical and the coffee sucks.

Unfortunately for this traveler, Nashville is not a vegetarian-friendly city. There are options, but few and far between. That said, it is my fault for going to the Cock of the Walk with a group of friends – a restaurant that specializes in catfish and shrimp. The fried pickles turned out to be a great little treat though, and their hush puppies are excellent.

Perhaps I’m not far enough south for this, but one thing that is noticeably absent is any sense of southern hospitality, or any hospitality for that matter. I’m accustom to a cold and reserved treatment, spending a lot of time in Boston and New York will build such a tolerance, but it may be that Vermont has spoiled me. Virtually every person with whom I have had contact here in Nashville, despite being accommodating in answering my questions, has been noticeably cold and decidedly uninterested in getting personal or exchanging small talk. I’ve even gone out of my way to ask questions which inspire conversation and to drop little enticing comments to encourage further discussion, all to no avail. The people here in Nashville don’t care about you. They’re here to do a job, will be nice to you insofar as they are required, but will never give you a second thought once you are out of their sight.

One blessed exception was my experience at the hotel’s Volare Italian restaurant. After my Cock of the Walk experience – where I had enough fried food to power a large biodiesel car – I absolutely needed something more nutritious. Being on my own at this point, I sidled up to the bar at Volare and ordered their Insalata Volare house salad, which had some of my favorite salad ingredients – radicchio and mesclun, gorgonzola, candied pecans and white merlot soaked sun-dried cherries. The two members of the bar staff that served me – Jake and John – were not only extremely accommodating, but were interactive, fun and a joy to talk with. For the first time in three full days I felt that I was having a genuine human interaction with a member of the hospitality industry that was not forced, fake or merely cordial. Thanks go to Jake and John for making my solo dining experience an actual delight.

While on the topic of the few good bits of food that I’ve encountered here in Nashville, I must mention that I had the pleasure of indulging in fresh potato chips cooked with salt and vinegar and served with a side of curry for dipping. The chips were exceedingly fresh, pleasantly thick and full and the curry was very unexpectedly the perfect compliment to the chips!

Beyond my time at the Opryland Hotel, the fried food overdose at Cock of the Walk and the experience of seeing a very Asian country singer – a bizarre experience akin to a caucasian geisha (yes, I know one of those too) – the trip has been decidedly low-key. There’s a wax museum next to the hotel which I may check out tomorrow, I had the – ahem – “pleasure” of meeting some rather notorious people, and discovered that I rarely smile in pictures despite believing through-and-through that I am smiling wide.

Next on the to-do list? A 1:30 am departure from Nashville on Wednesday morning, a thirteen hour drive back to Pennsylvania, four hours of sleep and yet another thirteen hours spent on the road in the middle of the night to my next destination: Atlanta, Georgia.

chips and curry, Cock of the Walk, Fried Food, Gaylord Opryland, NACA, Nashville, Opryland, Ron Jeremy, Tenessee, Volare