Saturday, March 8, 2014
Dar, I found it!
My Montreal spring is lingering in Vancouver, bathing the city in blessed rain, coily revealing her morning beauty through a misty veil.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Dar, there's no end in sight
We received more snow this Sunday. Not spring snow. Dry powdery snow.
On Monday morning I climbed high in the sky looking for any sign of spring. It's a quest to please you, Dar.
The sun burned hot through the plane's window, yet winter won't take heed, flinch or squirm. It remains defiant, wearing its fresh white coat with pride, reflecting the sun's rays, spurning its warm embrace.
Sorry Dar. I did my best.
You shouldn't give up hope though. I am defiant too. I'm heading west where winter may be losing its grip.
If I find spring, I'll do my best to guide it east.
My Vespa sits in its stall, oblivious, wearing its shroud, in suspended animation, the soft green glow of the battery tender's status lights the only sign of life.
On Monday morning I climbed high in the sky looking for any sign of spring. It's a quest to please you, Dar.
The sun burned hot through the plane's window, yet winter won't take heed, flinch or squirm. It remains defiant, wearing its fresh white coat with pride, reflecting the sun's rays, spurning its warm embrace.
You shouldn't give up hope though. I am defiant too. I'm heading west where winter may be losing its grip.
If I find spring, I'll do my best to guide it east.
My Vespa sits in its stall, oblivious, wearing its shroud, in suspended animation, the soft green glow of the battery tender's status lights the only sign of life.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Vespas, Cryptography, Bitcoins, Patches, and Me
The title of this post is a string.
I was introduced to strings when I became interested in computers and programming, a long time ago.
Sentences are strings, but not all strings are sentences.
There's no need to worry, I'm not about to embark on an explanation of string theory. That's in part because I can't wrap my mind around more than four dimensions. Besides, it is, as they say, what it is. I'm not that curious. But the real reason that you don't need to worry about me launching into an impenetrable diatribe on cosmology is that the string in the title is not the same kind of string of which the universe may, or may not, be made of.
One parses this kind of string as a means of extracting the bits that are meaningful or relevant, depending on the context. This one's easy for me to parse, and of course I am pleased to do it, so you will be pleased that very little effort will be expected of you. Fear not, read on with abandon.
The string that serves as the title for this ScootCommute post is a string of fascination, ordered chronologically.
Vespas captured my imagination way back in the 1960's. All I could do was imagine what it would feel like to own one. To sit on the saddle, kick start it, rev the engine, ease out the clutch, and swoop off like a bird in flight, destination irrelevant. It only took forty-six years for that dream to become my reality.
Many, many years after I dreamed of owning a Vespa (approximately twenty years later), I stumbled onto computers.
I was convinced at the time that computers would, in the near future, make me thoroughly irrelevant.
You see, law is as close to a pure information business as any that exist. I knew a fair amount about law, and nothing about computers. I was so certain that computers would doom my career, that I confronted them as one might confront a mortal enemy. Square on. I started learning about them. Know thine enemy is good advice. I learned more about computers than anyone else I knew. I learned more about computers than any lawyer I've ever met. I taught myself to program. Computers became my friend and, in the fullness of time, actually helped to advance my career.
You may doubt the truth of these statements. You may be forgiven for thinking that I am stretching some minor fiddling with technology into a tale of mythic proportions.
But consider this. I found myself, many years later, in San Francisco, at the RSA Conference, which was then the most important gathering of computer scientists in the world, a conference attended by delegates from the world's most important technology companies.
I was there to give a talk, solo if you can believe it, in the main hall of the conference venue, high on Nob Hill, at the Fairmont Hotel, in the main ball room packed beyond its 450 seat capacity, with standing room along the walls filled to stifling capacity, and with more eager attendees in the lobby outside the room watching on remote monitors. The topic I was addressing was how the existing economic and technology models promoted for public key cryptography infrastructures were fundamentally flawed, so much so that real world commercial deployment was unlikely to succeed on any meaningfully large scale. The paper I presented was co-written with Andrew, a very dear friend and gifted mathematician. Andrew sat with me on the podium as I delivered the paper. The hour we were allotted was barely enough time. The San Francisco performance was so successful that our paper became part of the curriculum at a number of very prominent US computer science faculties for a good number of years thereafter.
That's what fascination means to me.
I've moved on since then. Today my work revolves around corporate governance and securities law compliance. It's less exciting, but it pays the bills.
Later still, Vespas became a reality for me. It was a little over four years ago. As the saying goes, I should have gotten into riding much earlier. It is a source of very great pleasure.
I'm not one to do anything by half measures. Before actually buying a Vespa I did my homework.
These days that means turning to the internet.
It didn't take long to find ModernVespa. ModernVespa is to Vespa ownership, what the Silicon Valley RSA Conference was to computer science. If Vespas could spawn a cult, then that cult is ModernVespa. It is much more than a discussion forum. Its members find ways to meet, many eventually attend the yearly Amerivespa rally in the US, and a good number participate in the Scooter CannonBall run, and hold memberships in the Iron Butt Association.
Like most societies, ModernVespa has its plebian class, and its nobility. Members more often than not sport oval "MV" stickers on their helmets (guilty) and their bikes (also guilty). The "MV" sticker is a black on white oval that evokes the country stickers that identify vehicles by the nationality of their registration. As with similar societies ModernVespa has its patches. These are custom embroidered emblems suitable for sewing onto caps or jackets. A little like the Hell's Angels, minus the loud pipes, hogs and drug trade. Simply belonging to ModernVespa doesn't make it easy to find out that there are stickers and patches. That knowledge can only be acquired by participating on the forum long enough to stumble upon references to them. Even then, there is no link known to exist from the ModernVespa forum to the online merchandise store. I don't even remember how I found it. It is possible to Google it, as with most everything else these days. So much for obscurity.
Once you find this semi-secret store, you see that there are patches readily available for the plebes, and then there are limited edition patches. And just a handful of those have ever been made. And they are all, yes all, prominently marked as being SOLD OUT. So you see, those patches are so exclusive, so rare, as to be virtually unobtainable at any price. No one who owns one will be likely to part with it. There are just a few members of the forum who have a complete collection. Like maybe three, tops, four people in the world.
OK. So who gives a crap about Vespa forum swag? Well, I do. Even if you don't, you need to understand that the rarest of the rare, limited edition, ModernVespa patch, the "Italia" patch, is a very desirable thing indeed. Factor in to this equation of fascination of mine, that I will be in Italy in May, will tour the Vespa museum (one of a kind in the world, naturally) in Pontedera, and then spend an entire day touring the Tuscan countryside and the vineyards of the Chianti region on a Vespa or Piaggio MP3 in the company of another ModernVespa member and her husband. Having an Italia MV patch to commemorate that ride... well, to be honest, it's way beyond priceless for me.
Fortunately, the world moves in mysterious ways.
Jess, the self-styled petty tyrant who rules ModernVespa, is the only man alive who has custody of all ModernVespa's secrets. Jess is sitting on the few remaining Italia patches in existence that have yet to be sold. A gifted computer scientist by trade, Jess is understandably fascinated by BitCoins.
Here is where fate causes my strings of fascination to intertwine.
There is no room here to delve into the murky realm of BitCoins. Trust me when I say it's very, very murky, and extremely arcane.
My dear friend Andrew, the gifted mathematician, cryptographer, and co-author of our PKI paper, has been patiently teaching me about BitCoins for the past many months. Suffice it to say that I also find BitCoins fascinating. Not so much for the crypto-currency aspects of BitCoin that have been making headlines these past few months, but because the BitCoin algorithm is a brilliant model of open-source, distributed, non-hierarchical, cryptographically-based trust and authentication in open networks. The BitCoin architecture could be leveraged to disseminate digital IDs in a way that has the potential to revolutionize the way we live, learn and communicate. I still think that's potentially a very big deal. So does Jess.
In an attempt to educate the ModernVespa community, and introduce us to the wonder of BitCoin, Jess announced that he planned to offer some of the few remaining rare limited edition patches in his possession, but only to ModernVespa members able to pay for them in BitCoin. True to his word, he announced just a few days ago that among the small handful of patches available for purchase with BitCoins, were two remaining Italia patches.
The lure was more than I could resist. It can take weeks to set up a BitCoin account. I know this because Andrew has one and has explained what he had to go through to get it. I knew that without expert help and guidance, I could never claim one of those treasures.
It occurred to me, as you can easily imagine, that Andrew might be willing to assist me in procuring one of the Italia patches. I reasoned that if we worked in tandem, I could get a patch. How fitting an exploit. The chance to bring my crypto-knowledge to bear and procure an ultra-rare, much sought-after ModernVespa Italia patch.
The prospect of two of my parallel strings of fascination concatenating (it's sad, but concatenating strings is quite a lot of fun - don't believe me? Try it in Excel: =concatenate(A1, B2)) into a joyous real-world result was, to say the least, tantalizing. The uber-geeky-ness of it was thrilling. The pursuit of the arcane prize by arcane means: such a juicy Dan Brown-worthy adventure.
The stage was set. Here I was in Florida on vacation. Andrew was in London, Ontario, hard at work on software he was developing, and Jess was somewhere near Silicon Valley using the precious Italia patch to troll for BitCoins. I explained the plot to Andrew, and how the deed could be done. I would place an order with Jess for the Italia patch. Assuming it hadn't been sold, Jess would provide a BitCoin payee crypto-string to me via a private message on the ModernVespa forum. I would forward the BitCoin payee string to Andrew. Andrew would send the BitCoin to Jess. On receipt of the BitCoin, Jess would declare me the winning bidder, and the patch would be mine.
One of the two available Italia patches was claimed, then declared sold. Then the second and last Italia patch was spoken for. Damn! It was not to be after all. But then, wait, the second buyer was unable to complete the purchase, the BitCoin transaction eluded him or her. The sheer techno-difficulty was too great a barrier. Indeed, Jess had only managed to complete two patches-for-BitCoin transactions. The window of opportunity had cracked open for me.
With Andrew on board, I lost no time sending Jess a private message claiming the last remaining Italia patch.
I waited. I checked the forum. The last Italia patch sat there, unclaimed. I hit the sack.
In the morning I checked my e-mail. Nothing. I checked the site. Still unclaimed. And then it happened. A private message from Jess. He acknowledged my claim. I had twenty-four hours to deliver the BitCoin, and if I did, the coveted Italia patch would be mine. I checked the forum. There sat the Italia patch. In bold next to the patch: 'Claimed' it said.
Now the clock was ticking. I lost no time sending the BitCoin crypto-string to Andrew. I texted him: 'Call me'. For some reason ATT&T thought his cell number was out of service. Go figure that when valuable seconds are ticking away, ripples in the technology matrix manifest themselves, threatening to quash our attempt to deliver the BitCoins and claim the prize.
My phone rang. Andrew was already at the keyboard. His BitCoin wallet was so securely stashed away, as to be inaccessible. Damn! But there might be a way. He might be able to use one of the BitCoin exchanges. I could hear his fingers dancing on the keyboard. Yes, he thought there was a way, it was theoretically possible. He could acquire the BitCoins through an online exchange and pay for them via an Interac bank transfer from his bank. More feverish keystrokes, Andrew talking to himself or to no one in particular as he danced his way through the electronic commerce maze. He was ready to check out, yes it was working... then... slam! His bank was not among those that allowed Interac transfers of funds to a BitCoin exchange.
"Who do you bank with?" Andrew asked. I told him. I trust Andrew with my life. "You're in luck!" he said. "Process the BitCoin transaction directly, you don't need me." Really, was it possible? All I had was my iPhone. Could I do this with an iPhone, from a breakfast restaurant in Fort Lauderdale? I hung up with Andrew and pressed on. I hit a snag, a 10 digit number was wanted. What the hell?? I called Andrew. Miraculously ATT&T let the call through. I was nervous. Andrew said "You're doing this on your iPhone?" he said it with the kind of chuckle you might hear if you told someone you were going to eat a bowl of spaghetti with a spoon. He patiently offered some guidance, I thanked him, and soldiered on. One hurdle done. Crypto-string passed, two hurdles cleared. Security question... good, done. Account information... done as well. Password... PIN... click, click, click, accept, continue... wait... wait... SUCCESS!!!
I sent a private message to Jess with a screen shot of the BitCoin transfer confirmation. A few hours later I received a message from Jess. The patch was mine. Mine! MINE!!! I checked the ModernVespa forum. The second Italia patch was marked: 'Sold' it said.
And so ends this merry little string of intertwined fascinations.
A very satisfactory ending.
I was introduced to strings when I became interested in computers and programming, a long time ago.
Sentences are strings, but not all strings are sentences.
There's no need to worry, I'm not about to embark on an explanation of string theory. That's in part because I can't wrap my mind around more than four dimensions. Besides, it is, as they say, what it is. I'm not that curious. But the real reason that you don't need to worry about me launching into an impenetrable diatribe on cosmology is that the string in the title is not the same kind of string of which the universe may, or may not, be made of.
One parses this kind of string as a means of extracting the bits that are meaningful or relevant, depending on the context. This one's easy for me to parse, and of course I am pleased to do it, so you will be pleased that very little effort will be expected of you. Fear not, read on with abandon.
The string that serves as the title for this ScootCommute post is a string of fascination, ordered chronologically.
Vespas captured my imagination way back in the 1960's. All I could do was imagine what it would feel like to own one. To sit on the saddle, kick start it, rev the engine, ease out the clutch, and swoop off like a bird in flight, destination irrelevant. It only took forty-six years for that dream to become my reality.
Many, many years after I dreamed of owning a Vespa (approximately twenty years later), I stumbled onto computers.
I was convinced at the time that computers would, in the near future, make me thoroughly irrelevant.
You see, law is as close to a pure information business as any that exist. I knew a fair amount about law, and nothing about computers. I was so certain that computers would doom my career, that I confronted them as one might confront a mortal enemy. Square on. I started learning about them. Know thine enemy is good advice. I learned more about computers than anyone else I knew. I learned more about computers than any lawyer I've ever met. I taught myself to program. Computers became my friend and, in the fullness of time, actually helped to advance my career.
You may doubt the truth of these statements. You may be forgiven for thinking that I am stretching some minor fiddling with technology into a tale of mythic proportions.
But consider this. I found myself, many years later, in San Francisco, at the RSA Conference, which was then the most important gathering of computer scientists in the world, a conference attended by delegates from the world's most important technology companies.
I was there to give a talk, solo if you can believe it, in the main hall of the conference venue, high on Nob Hill, at the Fairmont Hotel, in the main ball room packed beyond its 450 seat capacity, with standing room along the walls filled to stifling capacity, and with more eager attendees in the lobby outside the room watching on remote monitors. The topic I was addressing was how the existing economic and technology models promoted for public key cryptography infrastructures were fundamentally flawed, so much so that real world commercial deployment was unlikely to succeed on any meaningfully large scale. The paper I presented was co-written with Andrew, a very dear friend and gifted mathematician. Andrew sat with me on the podium as I delivered the paper. The hour we were allotted was barely enough time. The San Francisco performance was so successful that our paper became part of the curriculum at a number of very prominent US computer science faculties for a good number of years thereafter.
That's what fascination means to me.
I've moved on since then. Today my work revolves around corporate governance and securities law compliance. It's less exciting, but it pays the bills.
Later still, Vespas became a reality for me. It was a little over four years ago. As the saying goes, I should have gotten into riding much earlier. It is a source of very great pleasure.
I'm not one to do anything by half measures. Before actually buying a Vespa I did my homework.
These days that means turning to the internet.
It didn't take long to find ModernVespa. ModernVespa is to Vespa ownership, what the Silicon Valley RSA Conference was to computer science. If Vespas could spawn a cult, then that cult is ModernVespa. It is much more than a discussion forum. Its members find ways to meet, many eventually attend the yearly Amerivespa rally in the US, and a good number participate in the Scooter CannonBall run, and hold memberships in the Iron Butt Association.
Like most societies, ModernVespa has its plebian class, and its nobility. Members more often than not sport oval "MV" stickers on their helmets (guilty) and their bikes (also guilty). The "MV" sticker is a black on white oval that evokes the country stickers that identify vehicles by the nationality of their registration. As with similar societies ModernVespa has its patches. These are custom embroidered emblems suitable for sewing onto caps or jackets. A little like the Hell's Angels, minus the loud pipes, hogs and drug trade. Simply belonging to ModernVespa doesn't make it easy to find out that there are stickers and patches. That knowledge can only be acquired by participating on the forum long enough to stumble upon references to them. Even then, there is no link known to exist from the ModernVespa forum to the online merchandise store. I don't even remember how I found it. It is possible to Google it, as with most everything else these days. So much for obscurity.
Once you find this semi-secret store, you see that there are patches readily available for the plebes, and then there are limited edition patches. And just a handful of those have ever been made. And they are all, yes all, prominently marked as being SOLD OUT. So you see, those patches are so exclusive, so rare, as to be virtually unobtainable at any price. No one who owns one will be likely to part with it. There are just a few members of the forum who have a complete collection. Like maybe three, tops, four people in the world.
OK. So who gives a crap about Vespa forum swag? Well, I do. Even if you don't, you need to understand that the rarest of the rare, limited edition, ModernVespa patch, the "Italia" patch, is a very desirable thing indeed. Factor in to this equation of fascination of mine, that I will be in Italy in May, will tour the Vespa museum (one of a kind in the world, naturally) in Pontedera, and then spend an entire day touring the Tuscan countryside and the vineyards of the Chianti region on a Vespa or Piaggio MP3 in the company of another ModernVespa member and her husband. Having an Italia MV patch to commemorate that ride... well, to be honest, it's way beyond priceless for me.
Fortunately, the world moves in mysterious ways.
Jess, the self-styled petty tyrant who rules ModernVespa, is the only man alive who has custody of all ModernVespa's secrets. Jess is sitting on the few remaining Italia patches in existence that have yet to be sold. A gifted computer scientist by trade, Jess is understandably fascinated by BitCoins.
Here is where fate causes my strings of fascination to intertwine.
There is no room here to delve into the murky realm of BitCoins. Trust me when I say it's very, very murky, and extremely arcane.
My dear friend Andrew, the gifted mathematician, cryptographer, and co-author of our PKI paper, has been patiently teaching me about BitCoins for the past many months. Suffice it to say that I also find BitCoins fascinating. Not so much for the crypto-currency aspects of BitCoin that have been making headlines these past few months, but because the BitCoin algorithm is a brilliant model of open-source, distributed, non-hierarchical, cryptographically-based trust and authentication in open networks. The BitCoin architecture could be leveraged to disseminate digital IDs in a way that has the potential to revolutionize the way we live, learn and communicate. I still think that's potentially a very big deal. So does Jess.
In an attempt to educate the ModernVespa community, and introduce us to the wonder of BitCoin, Jess announced that he planned to offer some of the few remaining rare limited edition patches in his possession, but only to ModernVespa members able to pay for them in BitCoin. True to his word, he announced just a few days ago that among the small handful of patches available for purchase with BitCoins, were two remaining Italia patches.
The lure was more than I could resist. It can take weeks to set up a BitCoin account. I know this because Andrew has one and has explained what he had to go through to get it. I knew that without expert help and guidance, I could never claim one of those treasures.
It occurred to me, as you can easily imagine, that Andrew might be willing to assist me in procuring one of the Italia patches. I reasoned that if we worked in tandem, I could get a patch. How fitting an exploit. The chance to bring my crypto-knowledge to bear and procure an ultra-rare, much sought-after ModernVespa Italia patch.
The prospect of two of my parallel strings of fascination concatenating (it's sad, but concatenating strings is quite a lot of fun - don't believe me? Try it in Excel: =concatenate(A1, B2)) into a joyous real-world result was, to say the least, tantalizing. The uber-geeky-ness of it was thrilling. The pursuit of the arcane prize by arcane means: such a juicy Dan Brown-worthy adventure.
The stage was set. Here I was in Florida on vacation. Andrew was in London, Ontario, hard at work on software he was developing, and Jess was somewhere near Silicon Valley using the precious Italia patch to troll for BitCoins. I explained the plot to Andrew, and how the deed could be done. I would place an order with Jess for the Italia patch. Assuming it hadn't been sold, Jess would provide a BitCoin payee crypto-string to me via a private message on the ModernVespa forum. I would forward the BitCoin payee string to Andrew. Andrew would send the BitCoin to Jess. On receipt of the BitCoin, Jess would declare me the winning bidder, and the patch would be mine.
One of the two available Italia patches was claimed, then declared sold. Then the second and last Italia patch was spoken for. Damn! It was not to be after all. But then, wait, the second buyer was unable to complete the purchase, the BitCoin transaction eluded him or her. The sheer techno-difficulty was too great a barrier. Indeed, Jess had only managed to complete two patches-for-BitCoin transactions. The window of opportunity had cracked open for me.
With Andrew on board, I lost no time sending Jess a private message claiming the last remaining Italia patch.
I waited. I checked the forum. The last Italia patch sat there, unclaimed. I hit the sack.
In the morning I checked my e-mail. Nothing. I checked the site. Still unclaimed. And then it happened. A private message from Jess. He acknowledged my claim. I had twenty-four hours to deliver the BitCoin, and if I did, the coveted Italia patch would be mine. I checked the forum. There sat the Italia patch. In bold next to the patch: 'Claimed' it said.
Now the clock was ticking. I lost no time sending the BitCoin crypto-string to Andrew. I texted him: 'Call me'. For some reason ATT&T thought his cell number was out of service. Go figure that when valuable seconds are ticking away, ripples in the technology matrix manifest themselves, threatening to quash our attempt to deliver the BitCoins and claim the prize.
My phone rang. Andrew was already at the keyboard. His BitCoin wallet was so securely stashed away, as to be inaccessible. Damn! But there might be a way. He might be able to use one of the BitCoin exchanges. I could hear his fingers dancing on the keyboard. Yes, he thought there was a way, it was theoretically possible. He could acquire the BitCoins through an online exchange and pay for them via an Interac bank transfer from his bank. More feverish keystrokes, Andrew talking to himself or to no one in particular as he danced his way through the electronic commerce maze. He was ready to check out, yes it was working... then... slam! His bank was not among those that allowed Interac transfers of funds to a BitCoin exchange.
"Who do you bank with?" Andrew asked. I told him. I trust Andrew with my life. "You're in luck!" he said. "Process the BitCoin transaction directly, you don't need me." Really, was it possible? All I had was my iPhone. Could I do this with an iPhone, from a breakfast restaurant in Fort Lauderdale? I hung up with Andrew and pressed on. I hit a snag, a 10 digit number was wanted. What the hell?? I called Andrew. Miraculously ATT&T let the call through. I was nervous. Andrew said "You're doing this on your iPhone?" he said it with the kind of chuckle you might hear if you told someone you were going to eat a bowl of spaghetti with a spoon. He patiently offered some guidance, I thanked him, and soldiered on. One hurdle done. Crypto-string passed, two hurdles cleared. Security question... good, done. Account information... done as well. Password... PIN... click, click, click, accept, continue... wait... wait... SUCCESS!!!
I sent a private message to Jess with a screen shot of the BitCoin transfer confirmation. A few hours later I received a message from Jess. The patch was mine. Mine! MINE!!! I checked the ModernVespa forum. The second Italia patch was marked: 'Sold' it said.
And so ends this merry little string of intertwined fascinations.
A very satisfactory ending.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Stuck in neutral...
I don't want to complain, but my weight loss plan is stuck in neutral. I'm bouncing back and forth (195, 194, 195, 194) and what I want to see on the scale is 193, 192, 190, 189.
So I'm going to pay more attention to what I'm eating, and dial in an evening walk, and see where that gets me.
If you're curious, you'll see my daily weight posting on the right. That's my source of discipline.
For those who are following this, Richard is now decisively in the lead.
So I'm going to pay more attention to what I'm eating, and dial in an evening walk, and see where that gets me.
If you're curious, you'll see my daily weight posting on the right. That's my source of discipline.
For those who are following this, Richard is now decisively in the lead.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Project report: Discrete electric garage door remote control options
For those who saw this post shortly after I posted it, please note that I have changed it. It used to be only about the addition of a switched remote hidden in the Vespa's saddle, an excellent choice. Now it's about two excellent options, one better than the next.
First I'll deal with the new option which was posted on ModernVespa minutes after I posted news of my genius modification. I'm tackling that first because it's a totally awesome choice, and much easier to install and use than the option I just finished installing that took the better part of a year. I could have done it in a single day, but I chose to do in tranches and savor the process.
The Flash2Pass option
I don't have to say much about this, and it's amazing.
All you need to do is buy a Flash2Pass unit. There are two components. One end (the receiver) you install in your garage like any other garage door receiver module.
The other bit is a box that you install on your bike (for a Vespa I'd tuck it into the headset fairing). The bike unit wires to the high beam circuit.
The manufacturer claims the unit will operate any garage door opener made since 1982, including the more recent models that use rolling codes.
Here's how it works. You just flash your high beam twice. Presto!! The door opens. The first press of the high beam switch energizes the transmitter unit, and the second press sends the signal to the receiver in the garage. It's genius. And so convenient.
But I don't have one. I have my button-in-the-saddle-solution. If you think you want one, click here.
The button-in-the-saddle option
There are a couple of minor modifications I've been tinkering with very, very slowly. They both go back to some time last spring or summer.
One of them is a garage door opener modification.
It was a little tricky, but I'm finally done.
Here's the concept. Solder a couple of leads to a universal garage door opener remote, connect them to a small momentary push button switch, then mount the switch through the seat hinge, just under the front lip of the Vespa's saddle. The remote control unit then just sits in the saddle, tucked into the compartment where the rain cover sits.
The button is so discrete as to be virtually invisible, yet within very easy reach.
The nice thing about this little trick is that the garage door remote is always handy, easy to trigger while riding up to the garage, yet completely out of the way, and finally off my keychain. Having the remote on the keychain wasn't the end of the world, but it required just a little too much concentration to watch where I was going, control the bike, fumble with the remote to locate the button with my gloves on. It was a small pain, but a pain nonetheless.
The dicey bit was taking the remote apart and soldering a couple of fine leads onto the remote's switch terminals, without damaging any other components on the circuit board.
Believe it or not, I did it. I was sure I'd destroy the remote. But I didn't.
Here's how the button-in-the-saddle option works.
Pencil-tip soldering iron
Vice grips
10mm socket wrench and socket driver
Wire strippers / cutters
Crimping tool for electrical connectors
Small gauge solder
Spade type male and female crimp connectors
Small momentary push-button switch
Very small gauge electrical wire (I got what I needed from an old cell phone car charger)
Black electrical tape
1. I read this thread on the Modern Vespa forum very carefully.
2. I searched "soldering wire to circuit board" on YouTube and found a few videos that were helpful.
3. I bought a fine tip battery operated (4xAAA) soldering iron at The Source (formerly Radio Shack).
4. I found an old bit of non functioning electronic stuff (an X10 controller that gave up the ghost) and extracted the circuit board to practice on.
5. I got some fine insulated wire that I had lying around.
6. Using some small gauge electronics solder, I first tinned the soldering iron.
7. I stripped a tiny bit of insulation from the wire to expose the wire strands, twisted the strands (individually and separately not twisting the wires together), and tinned them with solder.
8. I used a pair of small vice-grips to gently hold the wire steady for the tinning step.
9. I clamped the vice-grip gently to the circuit board to keep it steady enough for soldering.
10. I found large-ish solder mounds on the circuit board and practiced melting the solder with the iron. Turns out that nothing was destroyed, the solder just liquifies ever so slightly.
11. I then held a piece of tinned wire to a solder mound and applied heat until the solder liquified. Bingo! The wire was soldered to the board. As simple as that. No need to apply any additional solder other than the tiny amount that what was tinned to the wire, and the solder on the board.
12. I repeated this a few times to make sure I could do it reliably and that my first attempt wasn't a fluke. Each time I chose smaller and more difficult solder points on the circuit board.
13. I took the garage door remote apart and took out the circuit board.
14. Mine is a Skylink brand universal key chain remote with a single button. I located the two solder points for the switch on the back of the board.
15. Using my new-found soldering skills, I successfully soldered two wires, one to each switch terminal.
16. With a very sharp craft knife (a scalpel actually) I cut a channel in the plastic case so the wires could pass through when the remote was re-assembled.
17. I reassembled the remote and re-installed the battery.
18. I held my breath, crossed my fingers and shorted to two wires, the LED flickered, and the garage door opened!!
19. Almost a year later, I had some time to devote to scooter stuff and decided to take the project a few steps further. I soldered leads to the little momentary switch, and soldered a couple of male and female spade connectors to the switch leads, and to the remote leads. That way I'll be able to disconnect and remove the remote should the need arise. Reprogramming the remote for instance, or changing the battery.
20. The next little bit involved the bike.
21. I first checked to make sure that the remote actually operates the garage door from inside the Vespa's pet carrier. No problem there.
22. I removed the underseat storage bucket to get to the seat hinge. Using the 10mm socket wrench I removed the two bolts holding the saddle.
23. I took the saddle indoors to take a close look at the hinge. There is already a hole in the hinge but it's a little too small for the switch. I drilled out the hole a little more and mounted the switch. So far so good.
24. I re-installed everything, but found the switch was just too far recessed under the saddle to be really convenient.
25. After taking the saddle off and paying close attention to the way the hing operated, while the clearance was very tight, there was room to move the switch a little further forward. I drilled a second hole, remounted the switch, re-installed the saddle and tried the switch again.
26. This time it was perfect. Easily accessible, even with heavy gloves on, and works like a charm.
27. The body of the remote is tucked into the rain cover compartment.
28. The main button on the remote remains accessible, which means I can still trigger the remote directly if the saddle is open.
29. Another project done. It only took eleven months of sporadic attention. Done in a disciplined way, with the benefit of this project report, it's a nice way to spend a Sunday in the garage listening to Jazz and getting your fingers moderately dirty.
I think I'm going to like the convenience, and I'll be able to take the other remote off my key chain. Less is more.
First I'll deal with the new option which was posted on ModernVespa minutes after I posted news of my genius modification. I'm tackling that first because it's a totally awesome choice, and much easier to install and use than the option I just finished installing that took the better part of a year. I could have done it in a single day, but I chose to do in tranches and savor the process.
The Flash2Pass option
I don't have to say much about this, and it's amazing.
All you need to do is buy a Flash2Pass unit. There are two components. One end (the receiver) you install in your garage like any other garage door receiver module.
The other bit is a box that you install on your bike (for a Vespa I'd tuck it into the headset fairing). The bike unit wires to the high beam circuit.
The manufacturer claims the unit will operate any garage door opener made since 1982, including the more recent models that use rolling codes.
Here's how it works. You just flash your high beam twice. Presto!! The door opens. The first press of the high beam switch energizes the transmitter unit, and the second press sends the signal to the receiver in the garage. It's genius. And so convenient.
But I don't have one. I have my button-in-the-saddle-solution. If you think you want one, click here.
The button-in-the-saddle option
There are a couple of minor modifications I've been tinkering with very, very slowly. They both go back to some time last spring or summer.
One of them is a garage door opener modification.
It was a little tricky, but I'm finally done.
Here's the concept. Solder a couple of leads to a universal garage door opener remote, connect them to a small momentary push button switch, then mount the switch through the seat hinge, just under the front lip of the Vespa's saddle. The remote control unit then just sits in the saddle, tucked into the compartment where the rain cover sits.
The button is so discrete as to be virtually invisible, yet within very easy reach.
The nice thing about this little trick is that the garage door remote is always handy, easy to trigger while riding up to the garage, yet completely out of the way, and finally off my keychain. Having the remote on the keychain wasn't the end of the world, but it required just a little too much concentration to watch where I was going, control the bike, fumble with the remote to locate the button with my gloves on. It was a small pain, but a pain nonetheless.
The dicey bit was taking the remote apart and soldering a couple of fine leads onto the remote's switch terminals, without damaging any other components on the circuit board.
Believe it or not, I did it. I was sure I'd destroy the remote. But I didn't.
Here's how the button-in-the-saddle option works.
Tools
Electric drill and drill bitsPencil-tip soldering iron
Vice grips
10mm socket wrench and socket driver
Wire strippers / cutters
Crimping tool for electrical connectors
Supplies
Skylink key-chain universal garage door remote Small gauge solder
Spade type male and female crimp connectors
Small momentary push-button switch
Very small gauge electrical wire (I got what I needed from an old cell phone car charger)
Black electrical tape
1. I read this thread on the Modern Vespa forum very carefully.
2. I searched "soldering wire to circuit board" on YouTube and found a few videos that were helpful.
3. I bought a fine tip battery operated (4xAAA) soldering iron at The Source (formerly Radio Shack).
4. I found an old bit of non functioning electronic stuff (an X10 controller that gave up the ghost) and extracted the circuit board to practice on.
5. I got some fine insulated wire that I had lying around.
6. Using some small gauge electronics solder, I first tinned the soldering iron.
7. I stripped a tiny bit of insulation from the wire to expose the wire strands, twisted the strands (individually and separately not twisting the wires together), and tinned them with solder.
8. I used a pair of small vice-grips to gently hold the wire steady for the tinning step.
9. I clamped the vice-grip gently to the circuit board to keep it steady enough for soldering.
10. I found large-ish solder mounds on the circuit board and practiced melting the solder with the iron. Turns out that nothing was destroyed, the solder just liquifies ever so slightly.
11. I then held a piece of tinned wire to a solder mound and applied heat until the solder liquified. Bingo! The wire was soldered to the board. As simple as that. No need to apply any additional solder other than the tiny amount that what was tinned to the wire, and the solder on the board.
12. I repeated this a few times to make sure I could do it reliably and that my first attempt wasn't a fluke. Each time I chose smaller and more difficult solder points on the circuit board.
13. I took the garage door remote apart and took out the circuit board.
14. Mine is a Skylink brand universal key chain remote with a single button. I located the two solder points for the switch on the back of the board.
15. Using my new-found soldering skills, I successfully soldered two wires, one to each switch terminal.
16. With a very sharp craft knife (a scalpel actually) I cut a channel in the plastic case so the wires could pass through when the remote was re-assembled.
17. I reassembled the remote and re-installed the battery.
18. I held my breath, crossed my fingers and shorted to two wires, the LED flickered, and the garage door opened!!
21. I first checked to make sure that the remote actually operates the garage door from inside the Vespa's pet carrier. No problem there.
22. I removed the underseat storage bucket to get to the seat hinge. Using the 10mm socket wrench I removed the two bolts holding the saddle.
23. I took the saddle indoors to take a close look at the hinge. There is already a hole in the hinge but it's a little too small for the switch. I drilled out the hole a little more and mounted the switch. So far so good.
25. After taking the saddle off and paying close attention to the way the hing operated, while the clearance was very tight, there was room to move the switch a little further forward. I drilled a second hole, remounted the switch, re-installed the saddle and tried the switch again.
27. The body of the remote is tucked into the rain cover compartment.
29. Another project done. It only took eleven months of sporadic attention. Done in a disciplined way, with the benefit of this project report, it's a nice way to spend a Sunday in the garage listening to Jazz and getting your fingers moderately dirty.
I think I'm going to like the convenience, and I'll be able to take the other remote off my key chain. Less is more.
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