Yesterday for my birthday Mr. Lear gave me a turntable, much like Steve McQueen's ("Three Weeks in Steve McQueen's World", photographer: John Dominis for Life Magazine). Surprisingly, Mr. McQueen gave me some of his very own albums seen strewn on the floor here.
The turntable came with a book of diagrams involving female and male, balance, speed, a nonskating weight, and most importantly, adjusting your azimuth. Chaucer began throwing around the word azimuth in the fourteenth century with other astrolabe enthusiasts. It is the arc from the zenith to the horizon. I love a word that belongs to astronomers, engineers and turntable owners. Life, the planet and record needles are often by chance or design not perfectly vertical; the azimuth may be a few degrees East instead of true North. In these instances it is your responsibility to adjust your azimuth so that in your sphere of influence or drill bit or turntable things are True.
The day before yesterday was a one hundred anniversary concert for Cal's Campanile. The bells played according to data from the seismograph below the tower. I can't help but place all this, and the full moon, into the runcible bin and let them stew. I will be adjusting the azimuth on the runcible bin this week. I will let you know what surfaces.
