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Badger Air-Brush Co 105 Patriot Fine Gravity Airbrush

Badger’s New Patriot Airbrush, Model 105-1, is a dual action, internal mix, gravity feed airbrush with a permanently mounted 1/3 ounce color cup . Designed as the gravity feed version of Badger’s popular siphon feed “Anthem” airbrush, the Patriot delivers superior performance with its innovative precision design. The Patriot’s two angle needle tip precisely mates with the Patriot’s cone shaped nozzle enabling a single needle/nozzle (.75 millimeter) configuration to spray virtually any desired material, eliminating the need for various needle/nozzle sizes. The Patriot’s body design provides exacting balance and long term user comfort; an excellent choice for detail applications, or when only a small amount of color is required. Proudly made in the USA.

First times.

She was uncomfortable throughout the day. On the cab ride from Taipei 101 to their hotel room, she said that she could sense her period coming. “I feel like shit, especially the first day on it.”

He held her hand and looked outside the window as she talked; the sun was setting down in between two skyscrapers.

Since the morning of his flight there, he felt a slow fever burning. When he reached his transfers in Tokyo, he took his cap off and sprawled across the seats in front of the gate until they called final boarding. The time spent in the air was the most difficult to get through. By the third day in Taipei, it subsided a bit.

"Relax. You look so stressed out," she kept saying in the beginning.
The night before, she told him that his body was a heater and asked if it was always like this.
"Sometimes."

He woke up early in the morning and let his coughs overcome him in the shower. Sitting at the table, he watched the sun rise through the window curtains as she slept.
She briefly opened her eyes. "I heard you in the bathroom earlier. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just couldn’t sleep anymore."
After breakfast, she would be the one telling him “Relax. Take it easy.”

The hotel room was on the 6th floor and faced an alleyway shaded by apartment buildings and restaurants. Already, it smelled like Winstons and Capris. In the hotel cafe upstairs, they ate breakfast and talked about religion. Then went back to their room, listened to music off her computer speakers. She messaged her friends online. He opened the windows, sipped whiskey and read from the book he brought.

"Where do you want to go today?" he said. He took her computer and put it on the table, and leaned over her in bed with her hands pinned underneath his.
"Not sure."
"Isn't this your city?"
"It is. But mostly in the suburbs last time."
"I'll decide then."

The Museum of Contemporary Arts. An empty artist's commune. The park. They paused and retraced their steps and in order to look for the black cardigan she left behind somewhere along the way. Maybe at the museum or the restaurant where they had lunch. They walked up and down the blocks on both sides of the street, but it was lost for good.
"It's my mom's. She let me borrow it,” she said.
"Will she be alright?"
"She'll be upset but will forget eventually."
"Did you bring any other jackets?
"No."
"You can wear mine or I'll buy you one."
“I’ll be fine. Don’t have to.”

He was use to walking at a brisk pace when he was alone. It caused her to pull on his arm from time to time. "You're with someone you know." It had been a long time since he had to pace himself next to a person.

At the park, they watched families and kids make their way through the open grass. Kites, a soccer game, bicycles and pets - at the far end was a bridge that led back to their hotel building.

The wind picked up. He could smell her shampoo from underneath her cap. It masked her perfume, faint traces of citrus and vanilla. She remembered it from one of her primary school teachers when she was a child. Now it was hers.

He would try to find it later, as a keepsake and reminder, but was never able to.

She held his tie up - blue with small crown patterns in cream orange and white, widely spaced. he put his thumb over the small logo typeface at the bottom. "I like this one because if you look closely, the "i" fades into the letters next to it," he said.
"Is this how you dressed when you were in Paris?"
"Most of the time. I didn’t pack much"
"I can imagine you walking through the streets like this. Where did you get your jacket?"
"From England."
"It seems like you’ve packed a lot this time though."
"I'm wondering if it was such a good idea."
"Did you see my mine?"
This morning he had to sit on top of the lid and fight the lock just to shut it.
"If you're cold. You can wear my jacket,” he said again.

Every man entertains the idea of giving their coat to a woman and seeing her walk in it. Before he came, she told him that the mountains would be cold so he packed more than he'd ever need.


"Some friends arrived in Taipei last night," she said the night before. "I'm wondering if I should see them or not. We'll just go for a few drinks." She checked her phone as she talked.
"Not at all."
"What are you going to do then? I’ll probably be back late."
"I'll stay here or find something to do. If you want to, just go. Don't worry about me." He put his elbows on the table and locked his hands together.

A few minutes ago, she was certain that she would go. She was set on it. Now, she found herself staying with him in the cafe. She watched him write. That was their plan. There was a cinema next door but it wasn’t sho

Friday August 19


I awoke this morning with the air conditioning having kicked in at some point during the night, and I was cold. I thought the coffee shop in the main building sounded interesting; but when I went over there, it was already queued up to the door. So, not having learnt my lesson from previous day, I thought I would stop off and get something on the way down.
Looking at the map, I thought route 1 passed really nothing of much interest once it left 101, so I thought I would continue on 101 right to Los Angeles. Once 101 ran beside the sea once more, we passed wide sandy beaches, dull Californian coastal towns and the occasional island just offshore. Elsewhere, the road ran through brown, rolling hills and vineyards.
Santa Barbara looked fine, from the freeway; palm trees mixed in with the faux Spanish villas. I stopped off at some nameless town to look for somewhere for breakfast; but could either find no where or find no parking spaces. In the end, I went into some sprawling town, along a strip mall; and ended up in a Subway; by that point I was too hungry to care. The weather was fine, hot and sunny, and getting warmer with every mile I went south.
As we approached Los Angeles, the urban sprawl got ever thicker and 101 ever wider. I thought that Los Angeles airport, LAX, would be signposted of a major north/south route; but as ever, I was wrong. I headed ever deeper into Los Angeles, the traffic got heavier, and the turnoffs ever more familiar. By the time I got to Hollywood Boulevard I was worried. Stuck in a traffic jam, I looked at my guide book and realised I should have turned off miles before and headed to Santa Monica. I thought I worked out a route, and headed into the Downtown area before eventually heading west towards Santa Monica. As I approached Santa Monica, the signs for the airport appeared, and I began to relax. However, it was not easy, as LAX is as surrounded by sprawl as Heathrow is. In the end, after driving round three quarters of it, I saw the signs for the hire car drop off, and once I was satisfied where to go in the morning, I checked into the hotel nearest the Hertz yard. It turned out to be the Sheraton, and I was on the 300th floor, or something. By this point, I was hot and bothered, and all I wanted was air conditioning and cold drink.
After staring at my luggage for some time, I got down to work to pack; repack; and repack again. The case weighed a ton in the end, but it had wheels. My rucksack was to be left behind, and everything else jammed into the camera bag I bought in Portland.
That night I went to the bar to find that there was beer tasting available. Not clever, but I did partake. I got talking to a guy from Minnesota, and he was fine. He was on a business trip and missed his flight home this afternoon. We included a German in our conversation, out of politeness really; big mistake. The German thought he would try to teach us some words, and was insistent we learn this word which meant something bet; or he could have been trying to tell us his name; who knows? I did drink a little more than I intended, but they had Hoegaarten in bottles, which was too good to pass up; at least I lay off the whiskey.

Badger’s Model 200-20 detail airbrush is the finest single action internal mix detail airbrush ever. The Model 200-20 is designed with the PPS paint flow adjusting system, enabling recurring accuracy in spray pattern and line control. Badger’s Model 200-20 is a single action, internal mix, siphon feed airbrush offering the ease of single action operation while providing the fine spray pattern of internal mix paint atomization for professional results. Depressing the trigger releases a pre-set amount of color which can be regulated by adjusting the PPS paint flow adjustment dial at the back of the airbrush handle. Once the desired paint flow is set the air brush will maintain the preset spray pattern until the user chooses to change it. Simplicity of use makes this the top choice for the advanced model painter or decorative stenciler. It is also an excellent airbrush for auto detailing and ceramic painting when single action is preferred. The Model 200-20 will spray inks, dyes, watercolors, gouaches, properly reduced acrylics, fabric paints, modeling paints, automotive lacquers and enamels, most ceramic stains and glazes, Air-Tex, SpectraTex, Air-Opaque and MODELflex airbrush colors. The Model 200-20 Set contains Model 200 fine detail airbrush,1/4 ounce color cup, jar w/jar adaptor, extra jar w/cover, wrench, protective cap, and instruction manual in a plastic storage case. Proudly made in the USA.