Milling Rite

Well... this is fun.

Pictured: Yet again, it's exactly not fun.

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There was so much garbage on this spacer that the camera had trouble focusing on it...and I just kind of went with that, because it seemed appropriate. After I started cleaning it up, I figured out what it is:

Pictured: It's...this.

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I'm going to go ahead and call that the top plate on a thrust bearing assembly...and that would make sense, because the other two pieces of it are still attached to the elevator screw. Also, I thought that raised lip on the inside was just that: an intentionally-machined, raised lip, covered in grease...but it turned it to be just grease. And it's not the good kind of grease that offers lots of lubricity and possibly features Olivia Newton-John. Rather, it's the bad kind of grease: solidified and abrasive, offering zero slickness and likely doing more harm than good simply by existing...so, more like John Travolta.

Pictured: A visual diagram of Scientologist logic.

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I shouldn't pick on him; he was great in Welcome Back, Kotter. But, I'm in a bad mood because I now have to go find something like a pipe cleaner in order to start getting all of the overplayed late-70's musical out of the oil passages in the knee. Speaking of: said knee is currently hanging out in a bathtub in the driveway, which is not nearly as fun as it sounds like it should be, and also definitely not where I was planning on placing it...but there's so much grime and grease and murder-confetti inside it that I can't easily clean it in the garage.

Pictured: "Your dreams were your ticket out..."

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So yeah, that's where we are; hopefully I'll have it mostly hatred-free here in a bit...which means that I then get to do the exact same thing with the table. Yay Saturday!
 
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