Another breakfast on Jimbo’s over at the Panera. In the complete absence of pretty women on a Sunday morning, we played two rounds of crib ending in one victory each. Both very narrow wins with less than an 8 point margin as different from Wallace’s normal 30% lead. The sun began to sting by mid-morning so we took Millie-Belle to the doggie park in the shade. Wallace seems to have made some connections there, where the minimum age seems to be 70. No babes own dogs, just little old ladies who live alone and smell faintly of foot powder.I attempted to get an hours work done before noon. I barely managed to create some extra shelf space in the back room before I had to peel off my shirt and watch pirate shows on the history channel and with the air-conditioning on full blast to cool down. My internal temperature was 99.9, condition I’ve learned to watch very closely. Are you sure you want to visit Florida in the summertime?
JP never showed, what a surprise. Wallace and I had a late lunch of ravioli and garlic sauce, but that is it for the day. No more cooking, no more moving, no nothing. Today is easily into some kind of heat danger zone. We are all stocked up here with ice, soda, water, juice and fruit to wait this one out. The big screen TV is operating and represents a great improvement, over twelve times larger than what I had before. At least we can both watch a show. Good sound, too.
Allow me say if there was ever a retard program written for retards, it is that idiotic Windows Media Player. They can take their playlist thing and shove it. We love that asinine feature that separates the music file (cda) from the file list (wma). And don’t we love the way a “copy” button puts the tracks in a file called “unknown artist” instead of where you want it to go. As far as I know, this truly ignorant feature cannot be disabled. In general, Windows Media Player was made for complete no-minds. It would not be as bad if you could turn half that crap off. Or if it would at least list the correct title of the track, but it resets to “Track 1” every time.
Not that Windows has a monopoly on stupidity. The runner up prize for genuine Yankee idiocity goes to the people who designed four different nozzles on inflatable devices. No, not high pressure valve stems like on your car (but I understand some ass-hat company is making changes to that standard) but ordinary stuff like beach toys. The tiny nipple-like plugs are designed to turn your lips numb, and the foot pump is designed so no matter how ingenious you are, the plastic adapter for beach toys cannot be attached to the device so you won’t lose it. Why they don’t make blow-up nozzles the shape of the human mouth is beyond me. It would have taken an hour to inflate the kiddy pool that Wallace bought for Millie-Belle had I not found the correct gizmo.
The heat forced me out of the Florida room, even with the air and fans on full. It was 94 in there by mid-afternoon. Usually a tropical storm or two follows such weather. Forget what I said about not cooking, I baked chicken and rice for supper. The bad news is somehow I forgot I’d been told there was a big catfish cookout at Jimbo’s this afternoon. This is not something you normally care to miss. They saved me a sample and I can’t believe it slipped my mind.
That was on the way back from Boston Johnny’s where we performed to an empty house but for a few regulars. Also, it was one of those nights where our music didn’t quite mesh well enough although that was offset by the many tunes we would not have even tried to fake a month ago. The lack of rehearsal was still evident, similar to the Hippie who sets his mid-range and bass EQ to fatten out his solo music, but does not back it off when a bass player joins in. This makes it sound like elevator muzak.
Concerning the near-death experience on the road this morning, I would like to inform you of an interesting local custom. What people do, since it is illegal for them to do such themselves, is they train their dogs to bark viciously at blacks. You can’t prove anything because they’ll just say the dog was like that since it was born. What is more interesting is that blacks could do the same thing in reverse—but they never do. Why bother?
