See the palm tree now soaring over the trailer? It appears close to twice the height since I took over. I think it is a female. If you are nice, I’ll show you a closeup of those lovely coconuts. Alas, it has as little as five months to live. Although there is plenty of talk since the population arrived about potential delays, the developer is not likely to take any chances. I noticed they flattened the trailer parks south of Milam Diary (203rd Street) the instant they had the right.
Repair in general, and computer repair more, you see things that so-called engineers do which are beyond belief. Engineers must live in a world a minimum 10 IQ points below reality. I can now add a generation of computer engineers to the list of losers who made the CD and DVD the same size. Did you know that the “A” end of a standard USB cable will fit exactly into the central plug area of an RJ-45 jack? Try it. It requires extremely far-sighted engineering stupidity to overlook such a detail. They could have added a flange, or a keyway, but clearly not one among the hundreds involved had between them the brains to try it, even as a mistake. Worse yet, the connection will make just enough electrical contacts to print out a gibberish page that resembles what you wanted, causing you to overlook the problem. I made a sixty mile round trip after work today straighten this out. No, I do not forgive HP, who put both ports side by side on a Deskjet 6980. Generally, engineers are people whose mothers did not spank them nearly enough.
Jose was over. I showed him the trick to reinforcing a bicycle tire and he helped me move the utility trailer between the buildings. During the process, we bumped into that utterly insane yahoo up the road. The only thing that crazy bastard really needs is someone to kick the crap out of him once in a while. I keep hearing lip service about how insane people are undiscovered geniuses, but how come all the loonies I’ve met are dumber than a sack of wet hammers?
The callout made the only profit this week, so I went over to a place that advertises a Tuesday jam session up on Sheridan. It is called “Shenanigans”. I cornered the staff for information. It is the usual guitar music jam, but any jam is better than most open mics. I had a drink. I don’t know which left the worse aftertaste, the Budweiser or the $3.50 price tag. The pub is in the middle of Mortgage Estates, so the crowd was 70% somewhat overweight working class divorcees. My audience, but not my crowd.
Like most Florida saloons, it is long and narrow, wedged between two other business and no dance floor. It is a watering hole with very little else to do but sit and drink, except watch the huge number of sports TVs on the wall. One high compliment is due. They have a real bar. This refers to the counter with stools where single patrons can “belly up”. By real, I mean it is the counter sticks out a foot and a half, so an ordinary sized person can sit there without banging their knees into the kick panel. Most Florida bars have as little as eight inches of overhang. Insert tasteless joke here.
It has enough spending clientele and high enough prices to hire live bands, but there was none this weekend. Also, the area the staff indicated as the stage was filled with tables full of couples who appeared to have one hell of a lot of things to talk about. Drink and talk. Gee, kind of makes you want to run out and get hitched.
I also spied in on Boston Johnny’s. Four people. That’s how many are usually there unless a band is performing. The band was not due until 9:00 p.m. tonight, so I drove downtown. I see Jean’s ex-boyfriend is no longer at the café. If you ever want to be number one in a woman’s life, make sure she has no kids; for there is one constant to good marriages—the wife makes sure the husband comes first. According to pattern, she will show up in a week or two saying the kids have been dumped on some relation and can we start over again. With her, I might.
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