Oil and water don't mix as BP's spill shows.

By Dan Pelland, tech guru guest writer

Remote-operated vehicles (ROV’s) worked on apparatus at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, trying to save a planet. I couldn’t stop watching the live feed from BP. It’s almost interesting enough to dispel some bitterness I feel at the unfolding events down there. Maybe that’s BPs whole idea as their digital imaging technology brings a tragedy into our living rooms.

Early Thursday morning June 3, about 10:30, engineers began work, apparently to disconnect damaged pipes atop the now infamous blowout preventer. Two ROVs were visible. The point of view was a camera onboard what looks like a Millennium II cage-deployed ROV, owned and operated by Oceaneering International, Inc .

The ROV had a circular saw gripped in its right hand. As the ROV maneuvered into position, I could see how intensely difficult the adjustments must have been for the operator 5000 feet above. Regardless of what hi-tech equipment I was looking at, placing a tool with this kind of precision, without the benefit of tactile feedback, requires an extreme amount of skill and patience.

As soon as the blade began to spin, a thick cloud of mud obscured the camera but the operator held the saw in place and kept up the cut. I knew, from my own experience, what could go wrong in a situation like this. A little off axis, and the blade could bind and, in an instant, wrench the tool out of hand.

On the second cut, it happened. As I watched the saw fall out of the ROVs gripper, I knew what the operator was saying. I wondered if it was in a Cajun dialect. The camera panned downward. The saw had come to rest, precariously, on the top of the BOP (blowout preventer). The second ROV moved in to assist. It took the two operators, working from separate consoles. More than 30 minutes to recover the saw and get back to the cut.

Finally after more than an hour of careful maneuvering, a strap around the main riser was removed. At the moment it broke loose, I yelled.

video by alexhiggins732 via Youtube.com

The human factor of BPs oil spill

Regardless of the ill will and contempt many of us feel for the oil industry right now, there are men and women working as hard as any human ever has trying to mitigate the damage to our treasured resource. This is an intense drama unto itself, as compelling and fascinating as anything I’ve ever seen. The fact that I can watch it unfold in real time is a testament to the ingenuity of people like the staff at Oceaneering who put this technology to work.

Oil spill larger than Connecticut

Connecticut isn’t one of our largest states, but it’s intimidating to consider that three and half million people, the population of Connecticut, live in an area about the size of that mess in the Gulf of Mexico. You can not see end-to-end of the BP oil spill from one spot, unless you’re in space.

Gizmodo, a cool website for uber-geeks, has information today about how to map the Gulf oil spill over any land mass using Google Earth. The work is from Paul Rademacher via The Daily What.

Blogger Eric Berger, the SciGuy says the Gulf Spill is being tracked via satellite from space.

The Toronto Star writes about human and animal hair being used to clean up the Gulf oil spill.

One more thing. Chicago’s WGN radio morning talk guy pointed out that while BP owns the oil involved in this disaster, a multi-megabuck company called Transocean owns the rig, pipes, processes, technology, and responsibility for safety out in the Gulf. Some months ago, they were bragging about what a tremendous project this would be.

As I understand it, there was only one person from BP company on that rig most times. The rest were of, from, or working for Transocean. And did you know the WGN guy also reported there was a party happening onboard when the explosion took place? I haven’t read this info anywhere else, and no one can let BP off the hook, but I wonder what the real stories are under the stuff we’re getting in the media?

Below is a review I did of a very expensive ($12K) hearing aid I tried out.

In the two years since then, I have stopped using that aid, for several reasons. It was too small and too delicate for everyday living. I was in the shop getting it fixed every week — only the doctor who sold it to me wanted to mess with it and I moved across country. It got pricey to keep having it worked on.

At one point, it got wedged in my ear canal and scared me to pieces. An audiologist fished it out, but said she sees this problem with the real tiny ones all the time. I switched to a normal, digital aid – not terribly expensive. Point is, though, if you can’t hear normally, go get some help.

Baby boomers are turning 50 at a rate of one every seven seconds and about a third of us have hearing loss, according to hearing statistics. For some reason, we’ve elected to practically ignore hearing loss. Only a fifth of people needing hearing assistance actually seek help. Last month, I got on board.

I’m deaf. Have been since my twenties.

My doctor said, “You’re profoundly deaf in your left ear. Can’t hear doo-doo in your right.”

For years, as my hearing declined, I’d noticed my husband developed a terrible mumble. My kids didn’t articulate. My friends were too loud. They all talked at once. I couldn’t tell who said what.

I waltzed myself into an audiologist’s office and said, “You guys, I need help.” I wondered if people would now think of me as an old fart.

Bionic hearing…aids

After negotiating with the Siemens Company to test their newest, highest-tech hearing instrument, I had selected audiologist Dr. Robin Pape of Spring Hill, FL.

They installed me in a soundproof room and showed me, digitally, the insides of my ears. Dr. Pape did beaucoup testing to develop a detailed printout. The Papes explained every test and graph, showing me how I compared to normal ranges.

We talked about my lifestyle and workstyle. They determined the hearing aid I had in mind was appropriate and fitted me with the Siemens Centra Active, rolled out in March 2007. They explained its capabilities. I felt like Jamie What’s-her-name, the bionic woman.

My grandma had a hearing aid – clunky and noisy. The thing weighed half a pound and could be turned up or down, sort of. It shrieked and whistled. Grandma turned it off more than she used it.

Mine – well, the instruments talk to each other, balancing the signal so my experience is always appropriate. They have 1.3 million adjustments for sound quality. They automatically squelch high wind noise. They monitor my environment, recording data to help the audiologist. They learn my environment, filtering sound that interferes with conversation. I can choose from three custom hearing modes selected with my small remote control.

These gems are rechargeable, as are many of today’s instruments, or can use regular batteries. The transmitters fit inside my ear canals – I don’t feel them. The unit over each ear is unnoticeable.

Modern hearing aids increase sounds of interest without discomfort from high intensity stuff like crinkling paper or breaking glass. It feels nice and easy, like smooth jazz.

They monitor and reduce feedback so if I move my jaw, there’s no ear-splitting scream (from the aids…). When I talk on the phone, the little buggers are real quiet.  Low frequencies or specific bands of sound can be controlled or enhanced so I hear clearer consonants – speech is more recognizable.

I can actually tell where sound originates. My microphones are directional. Ever try to figure out where a siren is when you’re driving and can’t hear well enough to discern that?

With new choices in hearing aids, something for every budget and every lifestyle, we baby boomers might rethink how we deal with hearing loss. Want to know more? Try HearingResearch.org.