February 28, 2009

           Today was eaten up with routine maintenance at the shop and filling out government forms. Jackie, the caretaker from Jimbo’s, a.k.a was in today and I got him on the Internet for the first time. Jackie can’t read or write, and regardless of what they say, you still cannot navigate the Internet without those skills. I did not realize the extent it was true until trying to show him how to look at pictures of Europe.
           I mentioned it before, but I cannot understand why two wireless routers cannot communicate. I was over to troubleshoot a system with two such routers today, and something was wrong because one of the routers did communicate. This is beyond my experience. And beyond any available research material I can find. Later, I got a call from the system owner who may have accomplished the task serendipitously.
           It is trivia time. Krypton. The noble gas, not the Superman stuff. Now I can tell you how the CIA knew so exactly how much nuclear electricity the Soviets were generating. It seems air-borne krypton is relatively rare. It is a by-product of nuclear power plants. The amount in the air is cumulative, so here is how they do it. At the beginning of the year, you measure the amount of krypton; then you measure it again at the end of the year. You subtract the amount produced by western powers and what is left over came from the east. Since the formula is known, you can calculate the amount of juice the commies produced.
           The government forms I mentioned carry a strange message. As I read the questions, I see that society has transformed. (My forms are for medical insurance.) It has become clear these social programs were first designed for some hard-working middle class that no longer exists. Where there was once enough to go around, the government has to question everybody when, in fact, they are trying to prevent a few from fiddling the system. Hence, questions like, “Do any relations of the spouse of your landlord live on the same premises?” That is something no born and raised here American would ever give a ratz ass about. But there you go.
           Progress report on “The Sopranos”. Meadow, the daughter, is heading off to college. Good, because like real life, her backside is already twice the size it was when the series began. They only show her in dumpy exercise outfits now. That’s the trouble with hiring good-looking females. You have to film fast once the clock starts ticking. If she puts on another twenty pounds, look for a major revision in the script, like pregnancy or glandular problems.
           Insisting on a quiet evening at home, I tried to watch television. It is only February and I know the three movies they’re broadcasting this year. That one about the Fedex employee stranded on the only island in the world with no birds or insects, yet another plotless Lord of the Rings and the eternal “Blazing Saddles” of 1973 or so. This lets me catch up on my reading, and according to Business Fortune magazine, 20.7% of people agree with me about one thing. The biggest growth (or as I say, the biggest change) in the next 20 years will be something nobody has thought of yet.
           Limewire, the music sharing program, is on the way out. Something has changed with the newest release and it does no good to revert to an earlier version. Some downloaded music will not play. It shows the correct file length and type, but all known players either balk or stay at zero. I wonder why they bother since another file sharing program will just arise and take its place. Monday, I’ll see what I can find out.

February 27, 2009

           I have a photo of the Viking lass herself, in her “did you just cut one” pose. It is princess Victoria of Sweden. (Now, who does she remind us of, those who know me? Except, mine was a redhead.) If 191 certain people die, abdicate, or screw up enough, this lady becomes Queen of England. That so few stood in my path to glory! She is little but more proof that the guy who gets there first is the only one who counts. Primogeniture aside, while I was in college, I had some thirty women better looking than this broad. She is pushing 32 this year.
           Arnel called and we had a major conference over music. Again we collaborate on everything from equipment requirements right down to file types and software purchases. Last night was a mini-disaster in terms of the sound quality, choice of music, and stage presentation. I actually got on my bike and left because I didn’t want to get called up on stage. The best and newest equipment was available but it was set up wrong. Everything was distorted and the performance came across as if nobody noticed. It was a sad amateur effort that must not be repeated.
           This also drew close attention to an unpleasant side-effect. Musically, we are a group of newcomers beside a group of Florida old-timers. I don’t know what causes it, but none of us just got out of jail or got our equipment out of the pawn shop. Nor do we view our music as some sort of paid hobby. Some of us can go more than five minutes without repeating ourselves, which let me tell you is a serious problem for the born-heres.
           Time to drag Jim off to one side and tell him the rules, the first of which is you never form partnerships unless the other person can do the things you can’t possibly do for yourself. And that includes anything you could learn. Listening to two guitarists has not been a fun thing since 1975. Here are Arnel and Jim on stage before the show.
           Wait, there’s more. When I left y’day, I went to Jimbo’s to move my equipment for the Thursday Karaoke show. They were playing to an empty house. Whether it is the economy or the material, the club cannot sustain a loss for long. It could even be the Fair drawing people downtown, since it is the only family-oriented thing left anywhere in this territory. Things are slow, and this was the first time the owner contacted me to confirm I’d be there.
           I pulled in around 15 people, not enough for my new “critical mass”. That is, the number of people I need to get a good group singing, which is the real focus of my new act. Arnel came by to remind me that DGB has a few open week nights. I’d love that gig, but I’m finding the new equipment (the computer) has different operating parameters than the disk player, often choosing too much bass or treble. There is no easy way to adjust the tone for each piece, certainly not while on stage.
           My conclusion is that I need more time with the new arrangement; time to polish the rough edges. I remember when computers came with a built-in equalizer. This change in my music line-up is too important to barge in anywhere. There are also different audience problems to deal with, the biggest is predictably, the jerk who does not understand it isn’t Karaoke. That means I cannot play every song in the universe no matter how many times you ask me.
           Also, there is more of a tendency for people to saunter over and talk to me while I’m playing. Is this good or bad? Or the bozos who walk up while you’re playing and ask if you know any so-and-so. I will wager those who do this are failed guitar players. Not always, but that’s why it is just a wager. What decent musician sits around memorizing lists of everything his personal idol ever threw in the garbage can? Guitarists must be the last major source of cult followers in America, and followers is all they will ever be. They are right up there with those jerks who make the MacDonald’s cashier tell them what there is to eat.

February 26, 2009

           Quick, what is unusual about the business in today’s picture? Answer: it is still there. The science store across the street is closing in two weeks. Gone is one of the last enterprises left [not based on food service] that was in the area when I arrived five years ago. The proprietor had to take a job with airport security. He mentioned trying to negotiate with the owner on a rent reduction, but no dice.
           The few boutiques and franchises left are not enough to draw any critical mass of shoppers. There are officially no mom and pop stores left and I’d guess more than half the downtown premises are now vacant. I should plan for the possible demise of my own operation just in case. I barely made a profit this month.
           The president said we are emerging from an “era of instant gratification”. Funny, I don’t recall a moment of anything like that in my life. It would be no skin off me to see the middle class fall flat on their faces. That spells 85 million people whose joyride is over. Can they learn to live within their means? Maybe now isn’t a good time to mention it takes 45 years experience to get it right. I wouldn’t want to damage their unbridled sense of entitlement.
           I now look forward to an evening with “The Sopranos”. Mike at the shop says you aren’t really hooked until you start dreaming them at night. Remember when aristocratic weddings were above the fold? I’ll bet we didn’t even know Sweden had a crown princess. Name’s Victoria, and a bottom of page 17 announcement verifies she’s been playing hide the salami with her personal trainer. At least he wasn’t a bouncer at the Stork and Meatball. I’ll see if I can find any pictures of the lovebirds. The first place I won’t look is in the royal family photo album, bwaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha. Imagine her profile on eHarmony a few years from now, “Full-figured 30-ish ex-princess with darling daughter seeks LTR . . .”
           Toward evening, Arnel called about a promo Jim was doing at the Catholic festival on US 1. I biked over after work and ran into dozens of people I know including a lot of ex-students. I was wondering how Jim got such an unfocused song list, now I heard him and another guitarist play it. Twice. Arnel produced a pocket full of “Fair Dollars”, coupons used instead of cash worth a dollar each. Pat, Arnel’s top student, showed up with a cooler full of non-alchohol beers. It was a little cool and rainy but we hung out there until ten at night.
           Of course, we watched Jim’s stage presentation and since the Hippie was not around, everybody reached the same conclusion. Jim should not be working with another guitarist and he would have put on a better show as a soloist. The best show will be with me playing bass and no drummer (or a competent drum box).
           Toward evening, Arnel called about a promo Jim was doing at the Catholic festival on US 1. I biked over after work and ran into dozens of people I know including a lot of ex-students. I was wondering how Jim got such an unfocused song list, now I heard him and another guitarist play it. Twice. Arnel produced a pocket full of “Fair Dollars”, coupons used instead of cash worth a dollar each. Pat, Arnel’s top student, showed up with a cooler full of non-alchohol beers. It was a little cool and rainy but we hung out there until ten at night.

February 25, 2009

           This building is the one I picked out as representative of what I wanted to do. I’ve been watching the progress, and they have really done a well-planned and remarkable restoration. Sorry about the sunspot, but you can make out the unpainted plaster on the front face. For some reason I knew this property had the right people in charge. They picked it up at rock bottom prices, got financing before the market fell and will now make their million easily, charging a hundred bucks a month less than the competition.
           When it is for rent, I may check it out. (I presume it will be rental, as there is no condo market.) The work has progressed slowly, usually one or two workers at a time. They look like handymen rather than contractors. While the market sunk, this place underwent a steady transformation. I ride past there every other day, and I vouch there is no patch-up work. They replaced or repaired everything to top standards.
           No word from Jim, and I’ve made my customary two phone calls. I’m finding his material, that is, what he knows best, to be very slow and uninspiring ballads. He has semi-agreed to country material. I am ready to go ahead and program the lyrics, but that is so much work, I’ll wait for his go ahead. To emphasize the impact Arnel has on a crowd, the question at Jimbo’s was when my “Mexican” friend was coming back. Not a word about Jim and I.
           Wally reports progress and that he has no hip pain for the first time in several years. That is good news, I just hope he can get here before May while the weather is nice. No weeds have grown back in the area of the forest he cleared by hand. I suspect the season and the shade, but I don’t even have to rake it. I’ve made up an ad to rent the back room and I will lower the price to the point that some starving student simply has to grab it. No other rental arrangement is possible here under the circumstances.
           I’m into season two of “The Sopranos”. That title was a bad choice, making it sound more like a soap opera. Instead, it is becoming clear how a team of writers produced the whole series, then carefully went back and ensured each episode has a steady pace of action. Normally I can’t follow movies with more than four characters without memorizing the faces, but all new people are introduced with strong roles. I still can’t place obscure bit actors. It is an outstanding piece of work for television.
           Accurate maps of the South Pole are hard to find, and satellite photos which abound are not a substitute. So much for the pristine environment, I count at least 22 permanently inhabitation around the perimeter and interior, some of them must be near 50 years old. Say, Bono [singer from U2] is also pushing 50. Let me count on my fingers here. Okay, the band released “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” when he was 20, that was 1980, so he was born in 1960. And it has been 29 years since the release. Yep, that should make a few people feel their age.
           Checking house prices, a thing you know I do, I found an article stating it is cheaper to buy a house in Detroit than a car built there. The median house price turns out to be $19,422. I see that as a harbinger of Florida, since there is no economy left here, either. Teresa has stated her intention to head “back north” where all her kids (three of them, I think) all have jobs. Other news stated that many people in mortgage trouble had signed for loans over four times their annual income.
           You may not believe it, but I once had a mortgage or two. Way back when I was 20, Rusty and I bought three properties. We never spent more than one year’s wages on any of them and it still took us the full ten years to pay off the first one, although it was permanently rented the whole time. Because these were backwater locations, we never got rich on them. This did, however, clue me in to the false god of mortgages. In a sense, with the way things went, I’m actually glad I’ve rented most of my life. Mortgages also tie you down to the extent you miss out on real traveling and all opportunities beyond driving distance.
           Trivia. I was up around 3:00 A.M. and watched a documentary on Krakatoa. They made an idle comment that a tsunami had wiped out the plantations of nutmeg which was sold exclusively to Coca-Cola. Aha, I knew I recognized the flavor and I should have known. Around the time the drink was invented, a lot of mystery was still attached to spices from the far east. Today when I drank a cola, I could easily spot the influence of good old nutmeg, something I normally use as a replacement for cinnamon which I find too bitter.

February 24, 2009

           Today’s photo is a relapse to a theme several years old in this blog. It is another example of the ability of Americans to look ahead at the consequences of not looking ahead. Yes, it is a sidewalk that ends by running directly into the neighbor’s hedgerow. Everybody wants to be in charge but nobody wants to make the hard decisions. We got nothing but flat land in Florida, yet you can see the garbage cans in the front yard. Read on to find out more about dead ends.
           Of all the times to pull a fever and sniffling, I have a cold. I no longer care if Internet searching is being bottlenecked by either my criteria or connection speed. I just know something is pending somewhere that is going to blow that whole network away. I spent six hours getting information that used to be instant. These days each search makes you wade through every con artist and his mother. You get tons of surface knowledge, most of it incorrect. To paraphrase Jed Clampett, Internet people are such liars they have to get somebody else to call their dog.
           My doctor client asked about Twitter last day, saying it was the newest thing busting out all over the net and television over the past three months. Nope, never heard of it, so I logged on today. It is little more than another “Facebook”, the program connived to convince the world all Americans are borderline retarded. Twitter grabs your address book (contact list) and attempts to display it for the world. It pauses to ask which names you want plastered on the Internet washroom wall. The gimmick is clear—unless your friends are paranoid, they won’t mind strangers asking for them (or their grandchildren) by name.
           Twitter is nothing more than a stack. Whatever you add, usually your picture and comment, goes to the top of the list (stack) and shunts everything else down one notch. The 140 character limit ensures nothing meaningful will happen. Wish I’d known the public was so undemanding. Eventually, the host (good old Hotmail, a MicroSoft subsidiary) intends that you develop a mini-network of your on-line associates. Just how mini-networked, of course, depends primarily on what abbreviations your parents don’t understand.
           Limewire (the free music site) has been curbed. Seriously. Like Napster before it, all enjoyment must be paid or sued for. My question is what site is taking its place? Just spell it out and save the copyright lecture for later. You can copy anything I publish but it won’t do you much good unless you have the brains to use it. Recorded music should align itself along the same principle.
           I told you, this place is too large for one person. There is nobody to cook for, nobody to keep an eye on things, nobody poking around all day. I even got used to Pete the Rock crashing here. The cat has to search around for somebody to pay her attention. Nor is there any word from Wallace. He last said he can walk. Well, walk to the airport taxi and get down here where it is warm, quiet and there is plenty to do. Time shows we got the best deal in North America so why spend any rent elsewhere? Again, this place was the right move at the right time.
           For example, the government just announced the tripling of property taxes, but only for people who outright own their homes. Did you get that? Those who are “lucky enough to own” must “pay their part” of the housing bailout. No, you cannot re-mortgage to get around it because you are already on file. You know, those files you told us were harmless government documents used only for statistical purposes and that only the paranoid would object. Yeah, those files, you know the ones I mean. There, there, it is not your fault, cough, cough, for what choice did you have? Choice? It was a thing that used to exist before totally complacent people took over this country, you know the ones I mean.
           Thus, those who spent their entire lives obeying the rules now must pay for those who did not. And how was the government able to plan such a move? Easy, they had your life on file. How do you feel about that now? Possibly a little, er, paranoid? Good, because you ain’t seen nothing yet. The party is over, and woe to those who whooped it up with borrowed money. On the other hand, I don’t even know what a credit card statement looks like.
           Don’t worry, I won’t leave you without some advice. How about this? Have you checked to see which is more expensive: paying for insurance on your car or the fines for being caught driving without insurance twice a year? I’m not saying break the law, I’m only asking if you have checked. That would be an excellent start toward your new lifestyle on choosing between “paranoia” and “broke”. Pardon me, I’m about to have a laughing fit here…
           Then again, what if it is just a rumor?

February 23, 2009

           Music takes precedent. Music is my most complicated thing these days, so pay only as much attention as you want. All will fall into place with time. Here is the band at the Dania place y’day. The location is open air and as you see there is plenty of clutter obstructing the view of the stage. The bass player’s face is clipped, but there was no angle to get the whole band in one shot. Arnel and I had a major phone conference this morning.
           Arnel reports they have single acoustic guitarists in during the week. I’m not the only one who feels my show has outgrown Jimbo’s, and I would personally love, of course, to play at a known local hot spot right on the beach. (HWB is a restaurant, not quite the same thing.)
           Arnel states I have taken my show to the next level and feels I now outclass certain local performers. (Names were mentioned.) This is a huge vote of confidence. He notices when a band plays the same material every gig. There is nothing wrong with this approach and some of the best musicians I know do it. But Arnel and I are taking dead aim on clubs that hire them. We have no choice. And if we find ourselves playing adjacent locales on the Atlantic beach any day soon, this will be a musical coup d'état . We are the ones coming from out of nowhere.
           [Author’s note: I have enough for three completely different shows and am working on a fourth. To avoid confusion, that means I could play the same club for three consecutive nights without repeating a single piece of music. This is precisely the material I am converting to my new Live Karaoke format. During this process, I have already converted music I cannot yet play. Don’t underestimate all this. I haven’t swept the yard or gone shopping in three weeks.]
           As predicted, Boston’s has hauled way back on their entertainment. No bands on Thursday or Sunday, at least not regularly. (They only paid $100, if you must know.) I’d rather play for free on the beach, but I can’t really say why. The only place I’ve bombed in this town was Boston’s. I shouldn’t word it so harshly. I had a great time until all the women left, if you recall, when I found myself in front of six failed middle-aged guitarists who picked my show apart. When they wouldn’t come around, if you also recall, I packed up. Still, I consider that a bomb.
           I’ve met a Karaoke dude who has 6,000 CDG tunes. CDGs are another of those weird formats out there, one which I rejected because like regular CDs, you can only fit a dozen on each disk. However, I can convert those to my format and this could be another breakthrough. Arnel painstakingly replaces his backing tracks with higher grade patches. These CDGs may and probably will already have all that work done.
           Moving on to the duo with Jim. Arnel is enthusiastic with the great natural sound Jim and I produce. Thus, pending Jim’s speed at new material, there will be a push to throw an act together for the Dania Beach club, hereinafter “DBG”. I’ll make a scheduled commitment to get in there with Jim in a few weeks, or myself in a month. Either way, Arnel confirms I can deliver the wow and it is time to move up.
           Here is a question for the times. I have no atlas. Do I buy a standard book, which becomes outdated immediately, or is there a digital alternative? I was re-reading a chapter on the South Pole and could not find one map in this place which showed any detail. So, now I’m wondering. Is there an on-line map that updates itself instantly? Or only the Pentagon has it? You know, a map that you can still zoom in but is a real atlas and not those schematic satellite pictures overlaid with advertising. I may opt for the book. Did you hear about the guy who bought a second-hand atlas? Neither did I.

February 22, 2009

           That is Teresa strolling toward Boston Johnny’s. Oh yes, I still am very influenced by slim, good looks. But let me tell you, that is not influential on how her and I get along. She keeps me in check. Marion called right after Teresa and I had given up trying to find a parking spot near Toucans, and we drove up to Dania Beach Grill. It was Teresa’s idea. We tried to drop in on Arnel but were meteorologically frustrated. (No parking spots left because it was a nice day.)
           The Grill is one of those hard luck rooms that has been around since the sixties. The guitar player in the band, I recognized. He name is Iggy, and he has played in twice as many bands as he has years in the business. Come to think of it, the same is true for me. But only since I got to Florida. (My total is two.)
           Marion was checking in, and confirms my standing invitation to go stay in Colorado for a few months, maybe this summer. I was analyzing the music and presentation of the band at the Grill when she called. It is entirely an outdoor place with medium high prices. They close early, as in 6:00 P.M. which I like. The place seemed a little too popular for the venue. That is, quite a number of people paying attention to the band. (It turns out the audience was well stocked with wives, daughters and nieces.)
           The stage is under a tarp. The band was excellent, although there was a little chord searching going on. They were so good that I can’t compete for that weekend slot. I’ve dug out my old contact list. It was a great day at the beach and according to MapQuest, the Grill was the only place left I had not poked into. Am I to conclude the pub crowd in this town are all over 40? Good. The new song list is 2/3 country.
           There’s another thing Jim and I agree on. We don’t play for free (tips only) unless there are no rules. That is the reason I won’t play Legion 92. That place won’t pay, yet they won’t let you solicit tips or announce other places you are playing. Speaking of outfits with weird ideas, have you seen that Hyundai commercial? It states if you lose your job in the first year of buying their product, they will take it back without damage to your credit. Can they see you’re out of aces? If there is any danger of losing your job, slap yourself in the head for buying anything on credit, you moron.
           Okay, the ending to our story behind the sealed up door. The millionaire’s parents signed fake notes saying they were each running away. Our Richie Rich crawled through the secret passage in time to witness them fight a duel with swords. Mother kills father, and discovering the boy, falls backwards on father’s sword. Boy seals room for fifty years. Author seals plot for same duration.
           My favorite cliché these days is the gangster out of the ghetto who has a closet full of expensive suits. But for the color, they are identical, so it is comical watching him pick one out. Why bother? They all make him look like he took that sales job with the insurance company. (I consider rich is when you don’t have to wear a suit.) Even more amazing are the things these bad guys can do on the Internet, and all without the benefit of a formal education. It requires teams of FBI types and satellites to track them down. When is somebody going to inform the movie producers that the black man white woman thing has gotten really old. Maybe that is why I like pre-1950s murder mysteries. I’m reading one by Micky Spillane. So far, I’ve learned that he is not some baseball player.
           My rule states I must tell you the most unusual thing of each day, although sometimes it is pretty tame and you don’t notice it. Well, I had to wear a band-aid on the middle top of my forehead when I went out. I open the dishwasher, then I open the cupboard and put up the cups. I lean down to get more cups and as I stand up, the cupboard door has swung half closed. Doont! My poor head. Stood in the mirror staring at myself for two minutes. Told forty people I cut myself shaving.

February 21, 2009

           Music dominates again. I spent most of the day reviewing potential tunes for the new situation with Jim. I got what I could from Limewire, although something at that site has changed and it can be revealing what you can’t get. What, no Elton Motello? Just kidding, I mean, do a search on Faith Hill. Nothing. Jim was encouraged by the show and that is good, because some of his chosen music is quite on the slow side. The slowest tune I play is “Gimme One Reason”. He plays that funeral march “Don’t Take The Girl”.
           And, I placed the lady from the music store. I did meet her at Churchill’s back when she was 26-ish. Once that popped into my head, I found her on mySpace within two minutes. That’s her picture today, and I know the door in the background (above her forehead) is to the kitchen at Churchill’s. I’ll have to get her a nickname, you know the rules. She sings and plays washboard with a number of different guitarists, always male. Comes from a rich background, I think. Educated. And but for a few details like her age, my type.
           Myself, I felt like I’d been partying all night. In fact, I should be totally rested, since I didn’t even take the free drink Jim offered to buy last evening. Yeah, that’s what I feel like, hungover. That’s not supposed to happen unless you drink, right? Shucks, and I missed the party. It was easy to apply my Saturday rule of staying home. I’m only half way through the first season of “The Sopranos”. I may be addicted to the series. One thing I can say, however, is for being screwed up, at least these Mafia did right for their kids.
           Nothing happened today. My weight feels around 300 pounds and even a pot of home made chicken soup doesn’t help. I drank nothing but smoothies of banana, pear, apricot and apple today. This better not be the onset of a fever. I don’t have time for that right now, or in the next fifty years for that matter. I bought another mystery book at the library Saturday sale and nothing short of a fire will get me out of the house now.
           Earlier, I was in the shop. I did what checking I could around the area and asked questions pertaining to the type of bands in operation. It is hard to get this information. Now I have it narrowed to just one question. “Are there any country music bands that work this area?” If so, they do not advertise, I’ve never seen or heard of them, and a single washboard does not a country band make. It makes sense because all the guitarists around here play the same mix of blues and old semi-rock and likely never give country bands any worth. Now that, I find interesting.
           Later. I am reading “Missing: Page Thirteen” by Anna Green, who is reputedly a trendsetter in mysteries. If so, this trend was an awfully long time ago. It involves mansions, passages, and the standard personalities. A scientist with a secret formula accidentally gets the millionaire’s sleeping powder while reviewing his notes alone in a room. He awakens, and there it is—gone! They call in Violet Strange, the lady detective who, as luck would have it, not only has an affinity for finding secret passages made for children, but can also fit through them. This was in the pre-MacDonald’s era.
           She finds the page and I find there are still ten pages of the story left. That means she found something else behind the sealed off doorway. It can only be something of terrible significance to the millionaire, but it is too late to finish tonight. Come back tomorrow for the solution.

February 20, 2009

           How about a photo of your typical Florida bar? One thing never in short supply is booze. That frozen concoction that helps you hang on. You may wonder why so little gets done as you near the equator. Because time moves half as fast when there are only two annual seasons. For instance, I’ve only been here five years since 2000.
           I was house-bound all day juggling the music scenarios. Much as I want to play the duo, but I cannot neglect Live Karaoke is now my major backup plan. The band survival rate must be less than one in a thousand. Keep reading today for news on how the gig tonight went. My history confirms that I am constantly adapting my act and I don’t want that to take anybody by surprise. My last guitarist had played the same material for something like 22 years without the slightest change.
           My reliable source tells me the government is hiring people to handle the backlog of food stamp applications. I should take a peek. Government work, well, I’ve got experience.            Just not in that department. The closest thing I’ve got to any humanities on my resume is a couple of philosophy courses (which I disliked) and a few first year psychology textbooks which were full of bunk. I’ll check it out, though, because I suspect the pundits have made a severe calculation error.
           That error is the projected life-span of Social Security. I’ll just bet you their projections of “running out of money” were based on a strong economy chugging along until then, albeit with a dwindling pool of new workers. I’m asking if any of their formulas used the worst-case scenarios of permanent double digit unemployment and loss of job infrastructure. Probably not, and if not, what’s to say the money won’t last another five years? I think they’ve made some wrong assumptions.
           Next, allow me to bloviate for a paragraph. It is about the equal pay for equal work issue. You know, I accept that there is an inequality. What I don’t accept is a lot of definitions about equal work. If you can do my job, fine, but prove it. Meanwhile, if you earn more or less than I do, I do not automatically assume there is a chauvinist or feminist cause behind it. My opinion is the reason I do not get paid equal to a doctor is because I am not a doctor. But when I see my doctor, I certainly do not take the opportunity to imply any of this is the doctor’s fault.
           Let’s get to the fun part. I was late showing up because the new song files took 25 minutes to transfer onto the laptop. Jim arrived at the same time. We were able to carry off almost an hour and a half of material and he got a first hand look at the show I present. We need practice and with me, you get a lot of stage time. But the crowd loved it. The whole place was rocking again.
           As with most guitarists, Jim has a tendency to overplay between lyrics. I’m sure this is the result of trying to get a fuller sound when soloing. I am completely pleased with the performance. Arnel showed up around 9:30 and stayed for an hour. He was off duty, but still got up on stage for the standard three tunes. This may well have been the liveliest show in town this night. I’d say we’ll be playing something within maybe two weeks. If it flies, it is certainly going to make a huge difference in my bottom line.
           Last, we have some news about California Johnny. He is in Pompano Beach, according to a friend of his who recognized Jackie on the street and stopped to talk. The word is that Johnny will be dropping by Jimbo’s any time soon. I thought he was in Miami. What he would be doing in Pompano Beach is beyond me. The only thing up that way is a prison.
Another place that has gone downhill is Guitar Center. I know it is tough to get enthusiastic staff on what they pay, but it seems they’ve been commanded to sell instead of help. I bought my (excellent $60) Karaoke microphone set there two years ago, and I went to buy another. Today it was like torturing a pig to get the guy to tell me they don’t sell them any more, and no, I did not want two $375 wireless mic sets with 52 channels apiece.
           I’ll lighten up a little. That gal who works the door at Guitar Center? Finally, I was able to place her. Around nine years ago, I’d noticed her at Churchill’s (A Sort of English Pub). Aha, and she was with some dude with so many tattoos he looked like last weeks funny pages. Gloria? Something like that. She knew Juicy Lucy and her brother, Kyle, the studio bass player slash telemarketer. Anyway, I went on-line and sure enough, there is a band with a washboard player at Alligator Alley next month. Later, I will check mySpace, but seriously people, if you want to get noticed, don’t bury yourself in there. Florence? Luanne? It will come back.

February 19, 2009

           Here’s a terrible picture of a Mesa-Boogie guitar amp, but I need to prove a point. I have something to say about this amp in a moment. You notice, there are at least twenty distortion control. This cabinet is small, less than 2 feet off the ground. It is for sale at Guitar Center and got my attention because of its $2,000 price tag. I have to ask what sort of performing artist would this appeal to? Maybe a studio would tolerate somebody fiddling with all those knobs, but not me, not on stage.
           This was just a fine day. Move on unless you want to hear me bitch for a while. The computer I brought from the shop doesn’t have a front-mounted headphone jack. It is far too late into the process to swap it out now. What’s more, all my copying software has to be reconfigured. I had to watch today’s episode of “The Sopranos” on a real TV. Say, wasn’t the country supposed to switch over to Hi-Def TV by now? Or has that been postponed, again? Or did I just give away the fact I’m not that much into TV because the programming is still “Low-Def”.
           Not only that, the new computer does not have a front mounted headphone jack. I had it wired in place before popping open the cover to make this pleasant discovery. I think that means today I’ll do a little beefing. Right now I’ve no patience for things going wrong. Computer, car, band, Karaoke. Hey, I’m a little engaged over here.
           We are underway with the new music. I admit to having some of Jim’s music on file here, meaning it has been rejected at least once. I often bypass a tune because it is “guitar music”. Listen to Garth Brooks “Thunder Rolls”. Droll, undanceable, plodding bad jazz with a contrived single-note bass part, an out-dated theme, and guaranteed to put the audience into a coma. Balding, middle-aged failed guitarists just love such crap. (Even if we wanted to be impressed, it is probably not by somebody like that.) Brooks did some fine stuff, but most of it is what I call “CD filler”. It took four minutes to learn the bass line; it will take forever to remember it. Wake me up when it’s over.
           The theme for today was force-learning as much of Jim’s list as possible. Some of it is so obscure I can’t find copies on Limewire. (Yes, I use Limewire 5, and it is not dangerous if you know what you are doing. Most people don’t.) It is questionable if we will ever use this music and each tune represents a large commitment of effort. Most of it is “studio” music instead of “live” music, and most guitarists don’t know the difference. I’m reminded of Al Klit, a studio-trained musician and his buddy. They used to practice in my living room
           These guys would put intense hours into getting a lick down perfect. I could come back in an hour and they’d be still be hunting for the exact sound. They got into all kinds of impractical shenanigans, such as changing to “open D” tuning and switching guitars between songs. I get impatient with people who even tune up on stage. Get a guitar that stays in tune, dammit! Yet Al and gang had that pining look of hope they’d one day perform. That was twenty years ago.
           Myself, I’ll spend a half hour learning some bass line then go out and play it that evening. I place doubt on the theory of even playing technically complicated material in front of most crowds. The Hippie and I had this discussion many times and in the end, he could only defend against the facts by resorting to circular logic. What? You want to hear it again? Okay.
           He would [repeatedly] state that certain bands, not certain songs, drove a crowd wild and therefore we should learn songs by that band. See, it is becoming circular already. Big picture, the band; small picture, the song, as we flip-flop along. Of course, when the thinking person hears all this, the only factual part is whether or not a guitarist can produce this supposed, so-called, alleged, theoretical, Land of Oz, hypothetical crowd that gets driven wild. In six years, the Hippie was unable to produce any throngs of frenzied Grateful Dead fans.
           His conclusion: He couldn’t show me the crowd because I didn’t learn the music because we never got the gigs because the club wouldn’t hire us because we didn’t play the music because I didn’t know the material because he wouldn’t show me the crowd. Got it? And I personally assure you none of this was his fault, either.
           [Um, any time you’d like, you guitarists can come on down this very weekend and watch me drive a crowd wild. I do it every time I play. Not every once in a blue moon. My show may not appeal to music purists, but very apparently, neither the hell does yours. The only “cult” I subscribe to is Johnny Cash, but I never play any tune just because he did. And the only people who don’t think my show is working are local experts.]

February 18, 2009

           Stick around for some good news. This is one of Jim’s guitars. He has excellent brand new equipment and we had a five hour practice this evening. It was, in my experience, one of the best first band sessions in my life. Stay put for lots of reasons why I think that. We will undoubtedly put on an excellent, if somewhat countrified show. It turns out Jim and his wife live just under two miles from here and their complex has a largely unused party room.
           I’ll start by telling you what did not go wrong. We had the standard agreement to show up with our song lists. Although Jim is a guitarist, he did not scan through my list in ten seconds, reject everything except guitar songs, and propose obscure substitutions when he recognized an artist. He did not undertake to twist everything to his liking. Gee, do we know anybody famous for doing such things? Instead, he patiently tried each of my tunes and in the end, settled fourteen of my songs to just six of his. (He chose all the songs, I chose none.)
           This is important, for I did not recognize anything on his list. Instead of implying I didn’t know “any good music”, he understood that you can test whether I know a song by listening to the bass line. If it sits there and doesn’t do much, or in the other extreme is a lead riff played on bass, I probably don’t know it. Instead of getting antsy, he went down his list and rejected over half his material as instantly not unsuitable for this bass and guitar duo. Show me another guitarist in this town that ever made this concession.
           He responds very well to new input and grasped the concept that nobody gets anywhere performing for other guitarists. This is good. I have no intention of trying to impress any prima donna lead players. I am uniquely indifferent to that crowd. Jim’s playing is a mix of lead and rhythm. He has very little stage experience but that is better than twenty years of the wrong exposure. There is no damage that needs undoing. You know what I mean.
           Jim has fancy gear, including a complete Fender Passport stereo PA, the top of the line. This comes as a set which includes microphones of spotty quality. Between us, we can do any club in this town. He started off the evening over-strumming but learned that he can rely on the bass to carry the crowd. We had a startlingly great sound and he has perfect timing, which makes two of us. In total, we played 28 tunes tonight, more than enough for a full gig within a week or two. We are both equals in the arrangement and very respectful of the other guy’s experience.
           I’ll have to split my time with the Live Karaoke. I’m at a disadvantage because I have never even heard music like “Only God Knows Why” and “Street Corner Symphony”. For all I know they are dragging droning guitar ballads that will have to be custom memorized, if that’s what it takes. It all adds up to remarkable flexibility over getting on stage as quickly as possible. (The first band I teamed up with in Florida took an exhausting 13 weeks to get mobile. That guitarist would not agree to a practice agenda. Incredible hours were wasted because he could not focus. Come to think of it, I never saw that particular guy agree to anything else, either.)
           Jim and I already have two hours of good material, so he plans to show up at the gig this weekend. In all, I am most happy with the situation. He was surprised to learn I have only played bass but a short time in my life. (The rest of the time I was band manager or played other instruments). Let me calculate a few comparisons here.
           Alright. I have played roughly 106 gigs since late May 2007. I made money at all except a few when I stood in or did demo work. That is over nine times as many as were found by the very person who, between 2000 and 2006, said I wasn’t able to get gigs. He’s a regular Einstein. If you factor in the time element, that means I get the gigs 26 times faster, as well. We don’t count the gigs he got for himself, because he was supposed to be playing as a duo. He found 12 duo gigs in six years. A lousy 12.
           See what happens when you get me started on music? Change of subject. I missed the PBS show last evening because it was broadcast an hour earlier on cable. Teresa reports that is was not up to par. She ways it was a rehash of the same old. She was at City Hall and noticed the casino nearby is looking for a payroll clerk. Plug in those numbers. I like that kind of office work, so let me think about that. Remember, I am not looking for a stressful position, no matter what it pays. It beats leaning on a government shovel.
           That reminds me of some trivia. Did you know that every so many miles, the Interstate highway system is required to have a straight stretch? I don’t know the specifications but I know it had to do with the military. During the cold war each side had targeted all the opposing airstrips. I think it was every five miles, but the idea was to use those parts of the highway as runways in case of a nuclear attack.

February 17, 2009

           No magic. Because that is what it would take to save most of the non-food shops downtown. There are now no small businesses downtown with any real character. This shop had a prime location, in a sense, and it is sad to see them fold. Now you have Argentine restaurants with furniture blocking the sidewalks, tattoo parlors, massage parlors and cell phone resellers. Except for one incense store with a million in inventory, Hollywood now has about as much tourist appeal as a nuclear waste dump.
           Today is mainly technical information. If you like that, fine. If not, well, shucks, hey. The reason is the recent quantum leap forward with the Live Karaoke material. Ideas are coming hard and fast now, and I’m picking only the ones that distance me from any copycats. (Not that such is likely to happen, just that it has happened a little too often in my life. I’m not one of these “share the wealth” types, probably because I’m never on the receiving end.) Read the part below about monitor adjustments to see what I mean. Sure, it is technical, but my motives are something any gossip in this land can appreciate.
           Business has picked up slightly so I spent most of the day at home. Not a break, mind you. This complete computer system has to be redone and I’m only getting it to work like a home unit now. My advice to anyone who plans to use a computer more than recreationally is to knuckle down and learn basic repairs and software installation yourself. Last month it cost me $0.9625 for every $1.0000 that came in. MicroSoft has ensured that their operating systems are based on fixes, patches and workarounds.
           Teresa called my attention to a television broadcast this evening on PBS. She has, like many, inferred my interest in economics extends to politics (I assure you it does not). The topic is this make-work fiasco the “new” administration is serving up, and being that Teresa is interested, I’ll tune in. We would have gotten together to watch it, but the darn thing is at ten in the evening. America can’t bump Wheel of Fortune over things like a government pep talk. Besides, it is too chilly for a long a bike ride and can you just imagine me saying that even ten years ago?
           I was at Office Bunker to price out flat screen [monitors]. The nature of my show means two monitors, and I’ve found a tempting set at $99 each. Do I dare? They are Acers, which take after Sony in lasting just longer than the factory warranty. The specs show 18.5 inches wide and just 13 inches deep. That is what I need, a long narrow display. But, it is a question of money. You already know I’m cautious not to get overly enthusiastic about last weekend.
           Decisions. I have the cash now. In between are other considerations like if I don’t buy two, they may not be available one at a time later. This model, the X183Hb, has only a VGA plug, meaning it is likely discontinued already. I had a couple great photos for you but every digital camera has a quirk, and this one wipes out the memory when the batteries are low. Chances are I will not purchase. I can use what I’ve got for a short while, and I was looking for a deal when I found this one.
           There is another item I cannot test directly. These monitors have an auto-set feature, but can it be turned off? I want to try to set the monitor the wrong way. (This is the gossip part.) I told you how at the show a couple of people began to look very closely at the screen, and no doubt noticed the tiny command strip across the top. One of those people I definitely do not want figuring out what’s going on. So, can I “adjust” the screen so that it is too tall, then re-center the bottom portion on the display? Put another way, can I purposely cause the screen to display a cut off top section?
           The store would not have appreciated me trying it out on the shelf. Still, to some people who think I reveal too much in this blog, trust me, I’ve not begun to tell the serious stuff. Let’s just say I’ve known too many instances in life where somebody jumped in at the eleventh hour and tried to cash in on my ground work. They never have, but it gobbled up precious time and scarce resources that made things that much harder for me. I don’t mind competition, but not while I’m still getting set up.
           In keeping with my above stance on trade secrets, today’s trivia is about privacy. Did you know that in 23 states, anyone can walk into the government office and buy all the information on everybody’s voter registration on CD? It costs as little as $2.50. It does not matter if it is a terrorist, a pervert, or the police conducting a warrantless search, because there is no requirement to show “a need” for the information. So much for the principle that public records are supposed to benefit society, not a handful of marginally fringe operators. If you wonder how they got your unlisted phone number, check your voter registration.
           About the only thing not on that CD is your Social Security Number, but so what? Just go back and look at the records before they changed that law. Okay, I’ll tell you a little more. In 18 states, you must have the consent of the person you are looking into. That, at least, is a step in the right direction. If they can keep a public record, they can damn well keep a record of who looks at it, too. I believe six states don’t allow access to public records which makes them essentially police records. (They can look at yours, but you can’t look at theirs.) Don’t quote me, but those states are Minnesota, New York, California, Louisiana, North Carolina and Utah.
           [Author’s note: If I sound displeased with the whole public record thing, remember, my point of view is that participation in the system should always be 100% voluntary, never coercive or compulsory. A driver’s license should be a license to drive, and not anything else, including ID. When you register to vote that record only be used only for that purpose (and destroyed soon afterward, never used a second time). Any other purpose should require your consent, even for anonymous statistical research. (Some people may not want to be counted and they should possess that right without having their motives brought into question.) Certainly, public data should never be abused for private gain, such as skip tracing, mailing lists or employment screening. That is my opinion, and my opinion is supported by the American Constitution.]

February 16, 2009

           This is the pond on the tenth floor of the building where Joe has the flower shop. Actually, it is not a shop because there is no store front. It is a small workroom and a large storage facility in an otherwise unused parking area. Miami has an embarrassing surplus of parking garages but the prices are so high there is a fight for the metered spaces along the streets. You can notice the deck chairs beyond the water, which is fed by a waterfall, and see the view is yet another parking garage in the distance. And people wonder why I prefer to read a book on my lunch break.
           That reminds me, I should mention this cafeteria. I never see a lot of people but the selection is fantastic. It is like four different fancy restaurants, plus a coffee shop. There are four completely different main meals available. I wonder who they sell all this food to. There were only nine people in the place when I got there at noon. And two of those, hooray Miami, were blocking the others. “What are those little black spots on the bread?” Poppy seeds, buddy.
           Pudding-Tat (Pudding, the Tat) is avoiding me. I had to catch her and install a heavy duty flea collar. It takes a week for her forgive me each time I replace it. But, of her three years, she has only been an outdoor cat for one and it makes me wonder how cats managed in nature. Teresa has three cats, all around nine years old. They weigh in twice what Pudding does, and are totally indoor types.
           You'd think that one of the first things all printer manufacturers would do is make printer sharing easy. Many computers, one printer. It must make so much sense that some people don't get it. Like Brother corporation. If you don't have the correct driver, the contraption won't share. And it is not the driver that comes in the package. I have a brilliant thought to pass on to all hardware manufacturers. Build the driver into the article, like they do with flash drives. So when you plug it in, it works. Or don't you get that, either?
           It’s new computer here time, and I’ll relegate the old spaceship computer to light Internet duty. I’ve now got a unit so customized it has no brand name. It is 1 gigahertz, plenty for my needs. But all this takes time. I still have to take out all the timers and print restrictors. Then there are the instruction screens and lockouts. All of which I have to install on the other unit before I make a penny. I long for the day when the self-installing hard drive comes along but as long as MicroSoft exists, that is dreaming.
           Welcome another virus that seems to do only one thing. Your task bar disappears. A whiz kid would tell you just hit your “windows” key to pop up the start menu. Good, now ask him which button you click to remove your flash drive. Duh. I had a callout today to solve this problem and that computer will have to go into the shop. It has another virus that will not eradicate after two years, even though it is on the list of anti-virus definitions. That means it is “archived”, a fancy way of saying it is now in digital form hiding in a backup copy on the disk. Anti-viruses don’t seem to catch digital code too well.
           Two types of people can skip this next section. Those bored by economics, or those who are so dumb that they find economics boring. You know who you are! The more I hear about this make-work project from the Feds, the more I spread caution. It works because people are employed but in a credit-based world, that is going to backfire. Fake work is not the same thing as expanding the production horizon. It is also a copy of the alphabet programs of the Depression era. You see, a war came along before the people caught the backlash of that exercise in stupidity, and the programs were deemed a success. They were not.
           As with all government programs, the waste will cost more than the benefit derived. These are laboring jobs and we have not had that brand of infrastructure for fifty years. Our economy is based on overcharging each other using fanciful credit arrangements. Efficiency and high quality are no longer rewarded in our lives, so why bother? Quick, point to the unemployed baby boomer who is willing to take a laboring job in the Florida heat. You see, the roads are already built and nothing new is being created. Instead they will be patching the allegorical potholes of their own neglect, and such a fine job they will do.
           Unless the jobs pay $20 per hour, who is going to be driving over these roads? Since it currently requires around $15 per hour to stay alive, anyone paid less will just plunge into yet more credit card debt to make up the difference. Déjà vu. The traditional wealth-maker in America is foreign wars. Not the wars we export, like Viet Nam or Iraq, but where others do the fighting and we do the supplying. Real wars, not foreign entanglements. We know what brings the big bucks back into the country so soccer moms can drive SUVs for another couple of generations. Pollution is not their personal problem, see, they have kids and that is the end of the point of the meaning of the lesson, period full stop.
           Do you recall what an externality is? This is where the cost of something is passed on to others who do not benefit, or is usually the case in America, are too dumb to know they are being harmed. A classic example is the smoke from coal plants spewed into the air. Cheap for the company; expensive for those who develop lung cancer. But if the definition is expanded to include all related costs not stated on the sticker price, you’ll begin to see my viewpoint. We can’t go back to an age where the buyer becomes aware of true costs, because then he won’t buy. This is why I’ve said the only thing that will save us is prices dropping to where people can afford to pay cash. I’ve never stated I expect that to really happen, but yes, I pay cash for everything.
           Um, I was going to leave you with that happy thought, but I’m told an example is in order. Okay, take that Miami Convention Center I was at last Friday. It is in the middle of smelly downtown, where the majority of shopping is pawn shops and overpriced jewelry. It is miles away from Miami Beach. There are no ocean views and Miami closer to Cuba than any significant American state.
           Who, one might ask, would hold a convention here? Until you see the prices. Such a convention center goes for a third the rate Dallas, in fact, it is “cheaper” to hold a convention here than in Wyoming. The people staging a Miami convention can pass the burden of getting all the way down here on to the attendees. Those executive jets, business class seats and $400 per night hotel rooms are a cost passed on to the consumer. Psst, that’s you. The corporations point out it amounts to pennies, but multiply that by the right number, and you may find a good chunk of your existence is wasted because you are absorbing these hidden charges. Or, more properly, these externalities.

February 15, 2009

           Are these dates? I’m terrible with dates, a dreadful pun I’ll explain in a moment. You’d think me thinking these are dates would have reminded me. I’ve never seen these large clusters of seeds before, although I’ve seen them in green. Look at the lower right corner and you’ll see what the green bunches look like. South Florida is sub-tropical but lots of tropical things have been successfully planted all over the place. To the detriment of the indigenous species, which tend to be green, bland, tasteless, small-leaved and all over the place. Most of the same adjectives apply to the people. Back to the pun.
           I did this once before in my short life, I made a date and forgot it. I hummed around half of y'day knowing I had forgotten something. This long-term adventure with music has me so distracted I can't remember my own plans. I heard it gets worse once you get rich and famous. Don't panic, but I do have moments.
           The best plan was to call Teresa, who politely didn't say anything. It was her I was to meet at 9:30 A.M. and finally got there by 11:00 A.M. She never complained but did point out that unlike the garden variety males in the vicinity, she knew I was regretful about that. From that, I infer most men in Florida just leave women hanging?
           Meanwhile, Teresa and I lounged around her place talking philosophy and those two dozen topics that it is okay to broach after you've made sure somebody new is not just after your wallet. Remember, we only met a few weeks ago. One item was this Federal work program. She [and Rusty] watch the news as much as I ignore it. Sure enough the work is mainly targetted to unskilled labor, something America has had to import for the last forty years. Repairing the Interstate roadways and patching bridges. Teresa reports the spokespeople have stated the work is "shovel-ready".
           That implies all the "management" is in place. The human race has never been short of the unqualified willing to command. Shows you the Feds really do care, although it is doubtful many of the illegals who take such jobs will be voting themselves celebratory bonuses along the lines of Wall Street. Should you already own an shovel or two, the metaphorically happy days are here again. I could have sworn I once had a lot to say about the manual labor equivalency of people like Lee Iacocco, but suddenly he seems like a regular goddam genius.
           Pointing out that Teresa and I are not dating material, we walked up from her place to Walsh's. That's the joint Johnny D used to play and he has disappeared. Teresa knows the management, so we hung out at Walsh's for first an hour, then most of the evening. We seem to share a set of social values from first-hand experience. Put it this way, if you're biggest beef in life fits into any of the top 50 categories, don't come around us expecting any sympathy. Poor babies have nothing over we two, let me tell you.
           There was an episode to note. While it is not as prevalent a problem as elsewhere, you still do get the losers who scout around to approach a woman the moment her date goes to use the washroom. Those types are the lowest slime that infests our society and I've met a few who will stick to their lies that they actually thought the woman was there alone waiting to meet them. I return to find this character with a walrus mustache hitting on Teresa. At this point, I make a distinction. Teresa handled this better than any woman I've ever dated previously.
           The worst thing a woman could possibly do under such circumstances is encourage the masher by being "polite". And I can tell you the worst of the worst dates in my life were [chronologically] Judy Minty and Elizabeth Brooks. I know you women didn't invite the guy over, or ask him to hit on you, but I'm your date and if you came here to chat with Apollo and Georgie, don't do it on my time. Judy would pretend she actually thought the guy was just out to make friends and Liz would let hers start buying her drinks at my table. Teresa slammed the guy right down, get lost you jerk, moving in while the other guy has his back turned. You scumbag.
           Yep, Teresa knows when to cut the crap. Whereas Judy would prod things to see if you'd start a fight with a stranger to protect her, Teresa let the guy know right off without implying I was going to get involved. How did it take so many years to meet such a gal? I mean, Judy actually gave that Apollo jerk my home phone number and he would call her on my phone when we were making out. [It was an unintended consequence, but I still blamed her.] He asked for the number, she explained, and it would not have seemed "nice" tell him where to go. It was more important to her to appear "nice" to the world than to me, it seemed. At the time, anyway. I was something like 19.
           Now Teresa, no slouch, knows donkey before it starts. She told me the guy’s pickup line was, "I'm getting laid tonight." Um, I'd place his age at 50. She turned her back on him to face me, but he would not give it up. When he brushed his arm against hers on the counter, she began to wipe her elbow like he was diseased. I told later I could not believe she actually did that.
           Then Wallace called. He is ambulatory after the operation and I again insisted he get down here to recover. It will be a while for some stitching and bruising repair. After that, why shiver in the snowbanks? I had to drive downtown [Hollywood] to pick up a power supply, so I stopped at the bowling alley to see his girlfriend, Heather. She wants him back in town and I will dutifully pass on that information. Heather was inventing a new drink special, mostly rum and juice. I suggested the name "Fruit Salad" (which she thought was perfect), so she gave me a free sample. All I could taste was the rum.
           Sure enough, all five or six of my computers are either down, or useless in some way [for working on the lyrics]. I must have reliable gear for the new "Live" Karaoke show, so I raided my Internet shop and brought one of the towers home. Forget about back up computers. When you own six, it just becomes six times a likely they will all crash.

February 14, 2009

           Music dominates today, but responding to requests, here is a picture of the crab legs referred to y’day. Stone crab or blue crab, something like that. Because I cannot cook it, I rarely eat this type of seafood. For instance, I did not know it comes already cooked. Did you? The crab legs are the black-tipped thingees between the shrimp. According to my reliable source, there are only two places to get really fresh seafood in Miami. My other question is how do they manage to get the crab legs all the same size?
           Today may be musical history for me. After several hours of work on the shop bench, the "live" Karaoke software passed all the tests. I packed it up and went to Jimbo's to put on what turned out to be the best single act show of my life. Bear in mind I am quite aware that in Jimbo's, I have a trained audience so I am careful not to assume anything. At the same time, the results cannot be explained as sheer novelty. It really was a fantastic performance.
           I'll run over the important details which I'd like to preserve in case I've actually stumbled across something here. There were some Karaoke people in the audience who figured out something new was going on and really liked the concept. They came forward with lots of useful suggestions, one being to move the monitor back closer to the stage. Many things went wrong, such as the laptop overbalancing my music stand, the computer monitor being brighter than the standard Karaoke TV and a much longer delay (up to 45 seconds) between each tune.
           The best arrangement for now is to place the monitor beside me on stage. This gives the act the resemblance of an extra band member and encourages the hoped-for sing-a-long atmosphere. And sing they did. Nothing like it anywhere that I've ever seen. Don't misinterpret what I mean, because I've seen plenty of concerts and shows with crowd participation. But only for one or two songs all night long. My audience became part of the show.
           As predicted, it is hard not to sing along. There were some strangers in the room that took considerable interest in what was happening. Actually, anybody who looks very closely at the screen can see me scroll between the tunes but that will just confuse them worse (because it looks like an ordinary menu list). The success can be gauged by how every person in the buiding as turned around facing the stage all night long. That alone is a milestone. Instead of getting up on stage at Karaoke and making a fool of yourself, you can now do that sitting right where you are. Ha!
           This was just the pilot show, a proof of concept you might say. I already have a list of equipment I'd like to change and I've also noticed the computer plays back a better dymanic range than your standard DVD player. I have not yet begun to get new ideas with all this. Since only a third of my music is converted to the new standard, I played some of the easy listening tunes I keep for mellow shows. Hmmm, give them a microphone, the lyrics and a little coaching and these people will sing anything. Double hmmm.
           Some technical improvements are already on the way. For example, I will change the displayed words from Karaoke-like sentences to all simple phrases with rarely more than five words per line. Singing should not be a speed-reading contest. I will experiment with some kind of counter on screen to bring people back on queue after a musical silence, such as the "Romeo and Juliet" part of the tune "Fire".
           Less important are changes to the song list. I am no longer self-limited to danceable tunes. The sky is the limit now. Everything goes. Nor do I decline to play repeats, something I was staunchly against before. A twenty dollar bill changed my mind on that, the tune was "You Don't Have To Call Me Darling". Those Neil Diamond tunes were a damn good call, and I've evoking material I haven't played in decades. Stuff like Greenbaum's "Spirit In the Sky" and I sense another shift toward country music. Note, I draw a distinction between country and country rock.
           In all, I have good reason to be pleased with the results. I'm even a little surprised how everything went according to plan, something rare with such complicated projects. My weekends can often be determined by how successful my performances go, and Pudding-Tat will be eating lobster tomorrow. Maybe those teen years I spent conducting the junior choir before I was old enough myself to join it may pay off after all. Nobody could sing then, either, and I managed.
           Okay, you get another picture, you been good. This is the view from the cafeteria on the tenth floor. Life is better a few hundred feet above street level. This condo is across from the Convention Center and the sharper-eyed can spot the pretty girl sunbathing. Nobody in the pool. Ever. It is like balconies out on the west coast. They are an out-dated status symbol and in many cases have become so small even that is questionable. Some Seattle condos have balconies only three feet wide. They are great for storing bicycles, another thing that never gets used. Portland, however, is a different story. That’s the Portland in Oregon.

February 13, 2009

           This is the view from the tenth floor of the Miami Convention Center. See those banks of red lenses? This mystified me. I only work in the area one day a year. (But I've got five years experience at it.) I speculated they were some new type of solar panel. Nope, they are spotlights. Red for Valentines, Green for St. Patrick's day and so on. They light up the buildings because somebody has convinced them this is good advertising. The significance of the colors would probably have to be explained to the non-English majority of that town. I won't publish my suggestion of what color they should use for the Wall Street bailout.
           Honorary Valentine's Day for the working class. Yes, I was on my bicycle in downtown Miami. Wouldn't it be nice to be so popular every day? Normally I get up to fifteen deliveries done but this year was slow. I did just five in five hours. Everywhere from the court room to this tax collection office that had bullet-proof doors. The stuffing has gone right out of the downtown businesses. There is still lots of hustle and bustle and like they say, the people are there but the money isn't. Back to the picture, that strip with the railing along the bottom right is the aerial trackway for the People Mover. That is, driverless bus caravans that help distribute the crime evenly all over downtown.
           Lunch at Quizno's. JP was there, so was the lovely Alaine. As usual, Corey served up the best sandwich in town. The attention to detail and quality is evident as soon as you walk in the door. They take every extra step to ensure it. For example, even the few frozen products they use, like the lemonade mix, is thawed in the fridge to ensure consistent quality. JP had no time to chat, he'd been off with a cold for a few days and was making up for lost time.
           Alaine and I went shopping and got caught in the Art Festival traffic. This is the famous Coral Gables show that JP and I hang around sometimes. It wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow, but tell that to all the cars. Alaine wanted to get some stone crab and will only shop at the best places. We got lost in all those newly sealed off streets south of Dixie. And I found out today's trivia as follows.
           When we arrived at the fish market, the owner personally came out to talk to Alaine. I did not know that there is a quality difference caused by the placement of the crabs in the holding tanks. That's your trivia. The seafood tastes different whether the animal was transported near the top or bottem and how near to the sides of the tank. I saw the fish guy smelling each crab leg and asked Alaine, who explained all this to me. I believe the best seafood comes from the top center of the tank. There is something socially eerie about that fact.
           We dropped the food off and I finally saw the wall Corey built. Now I see what all the fuss was. It is a fifteen foot high coral block wall across the entire back yard. Myself, I would not have survived that amount of heavy lifting. I know there is a picture of part of it around here, so keep checking back if you are curious about such things. The coral blocks give it a very Caribbean look, which is odd, as I thought coral was endangered. Not so, I see it everywhere these days.
           Because Valentine's was moved back a day, I didn't have time to put the finishing touches on my new stage act. It seems like a giant musical leap has taken place in one week, but you know what they say about law and sausages. The reality is several months of seemingly unrelated work are being pulled together to produce the final product. Like everything with computers, none of the formats were ever directly compatible. Therefore, I played a regular set and look forward to better days.
           I pulled the flat screen monitor from my home computer and will get that thing to work by tomorrow. It turns out laptops need a function to enable remote screens. (It was F5.) Even then, you get an effect called screen extension, which I do not want. I need two screens to show the same thing. It took an hour just to find out what the manufacturer's called all this. The extended screen is called multi-monitor, what I wanted was a cloned screen. Except they don't call it that, rather it is a box in control panel settings that you uncheck. Is this one of them things you're "supposed to know".

February 12, 2009

           I’m going to cheat again by showing you a picture that has not happened yet. A major computer snafu wiped out today’s original presentation, so I had to steal one from tomorrow. Ah, the wonder of computers. Here is a classic shot of downtown Miami with a low hanging morning fog. The catch is, the place is just as dull and drab when the weather is clear. This view is due south along I-95 and most of those buildings were not there when I arrived here in 1999. Miami does not have a “downtown” in the same sense as other cities. Just the crime and high prices.
           Further research based on Teresa’s input shows that it may be possible to splice brake lines. The components look very similar to tiny plumbing supplies. If the ends are broken, that is another matter since that part is made only at the factory or has to be customized. Angel will be looking at things this Saturday, see if I get away lucky. [Later, I put the repair on hold as I do not need to use the car for another few weeks.]
           Today’s s trivia is polar bears. Their skin is black, and the fur is not really white, it is mostly clear. Some army type was looking for the bear’s infrared signature and noticed it had almost none. The emergent theory is that the fur hairs act like tiny fiber optic cables that channel sunlight down to the bear’s skin. In this way, 95% of the ultraviolet light (not all light) is converted to heat which is absorbed by the bear. How about that?
           Charities, according to what tax law I can find, are closely watched by the Feds. Get a good accountant before you start. There are strict rules as to what the operators can pay themselves without being penalized for “excess distributions”. The cause must be people, not animals or rain forests. The recipient must be needy, which is not defined. The tax department got on the case of an outfit who distributed funds to 911 families whose head of household died in the attack.
           The tax man felt that policemen and firemen were already adequately covered by their union insurances, even though in some cases that money took years to arrive. So, some charity wrote checks to the families to tide them over. The IRS went so far as to say that they recognize hardships, “not heroics”. I see their point, but if the tax people are looking for sympathy, let’s just say I’m glad I’m not the one who said that.
           Here is a flower warehouse. Sure, it’s a bad picture, but I felt this sight is rare enough for most people to merit a viewing. You got lots of red and orange roses, the white flowers are lilies. This is a refrigerated vault which is why the brilliant colors are washed out. Not the rose aroma. You would black out in there long before you froze. Sadly, the scent reminds me of “Roses, Roses”, an Avon product that in turn reminds me of old ladies. I won’t go into why that is sad, but it is sad for me, not the old ladies.
           These arrangements are called loose or cut flowers. As opposed to flowers in a vase with other leafy things between. They don’t pay as much per delivery, but they go fast and don’t weigh in too much. There, now you know all you need to get into the flower delivery business. Except for the parts where the customer is thirty miles away.

February 11, 2009

           Today’s picture reminds us that not everybody has the same concept of paradise. To many Florida types, it means laziness and a top-notch ability to avoid blame for their own mistakes. I just realized how accurately I said that. I normally ride my bicycle a tad over 8 mph. I have a light on my bike. Most people do not. This lamp blinked on just in time to show this metal post smack in the middle of the sidewalk. Now you know why I just laugh when the city gets sued.
           What are preformed brake lines? Teresa came by today to report that preformed brake lines may be readily available. They are, but not for my make and model. We had brunch at BK and talked more about the Section 501(c)3 idea. She knows people who run these things and make a decent living having only one or two big sponsors. I’ve always considered this kind of thing unethical, but then, in my day this wasn’t a valid career choice. “When I grow up, I want to sit in a fancy office paying myself $250,000 for running a registered charity.”
           Who remembers Gerhardt? The German filter inventor from 2000—2001? I was his wedding videographer. A guy from Jimbo’s bought distributorship rights for a water filter that is now being manufactured in South Africa. I recognized the description because that filter is unique. Also, the rights excluded “selling to FEMA” and that has Gerhardt imprinted upon itself. Could it be?
           The trivia for today is a poisonous bird. First time I heard of such a thing and it lives in New Guinea. The feathers and skin contain poison. The bird, called a Pitohui, does not attack with the poison, it is strictly a defense against being eaten. There is something I think more significant. The bird is colored red and black similar to other bad tasting or dangerous but unrelated animals. A snake and a butterfly in other hemispheres. This is too much of a coincidence; the colors must have some evolutionary connection.
           Hollywood movies are even stranger. Not just “The Sopranos”, either. They do persist in showing these heavy-set middle age men with gorgeously slim wives. That is so out of whack you wonder what they are getting at. Are those balding, pyramid-shaped men with round faces supposed to represent some kind of ideal? Even if not strictly a husband, the only skinny actor (they will show around younger women) I can think of is John Ritter, who got his job through connections. What? Didn’t know that? He is Tex Ritter’s son.
           Newest scam on eBay. You see a nice big, picture of a product with a “list price” of between $100 to $150. The ad even contains the specs of the product right down to the shipping weight. The scam is, you order it and all you get is a CD with a list of the prices and contact information of people selling the product. Boo, eBay. The picture in the ad is not a CD disk, but that is what you get. Double boo.
           I was eBay pricing video monitors, the wide narrow type. At this point, that heavy set lady who denies she is involved in pyramid schemes came in with a new computer. The thing is, nobody could see it. Then she reached in her purse and pulls out an Acer, roughly the side of a small keyboard. Hey, didn’t I warn people the era of the disposable laptop was nigh? There it was. Brand new, with 1G speed, 1G of RAM and a 160G hard drive for $299. You can’t fool me; it works just fine. I will investigate.
Back to the brake lines. They are a priority, not because of the car, but of the timing. I can survive without a car. But Valentine delivery time is here and that means a round trip to Miami. Alaine called and I’m invited to lunch at what is now the top Quizno’s in America. They now have every possible health, cleanliness and performance award available. She reports JP is out with a horrendous head cold. When JP misses work, it is serious.
           There is a new breed of virus that sail right through all consumer grade protections. The viruses I know of are “brisv” and “AntiVirus2010”. Worse, I suspect these strains are using spyware to attack. Spyware is legal, although it should not be. They load as spyware and use that to invite the virus, thus defeating all known software firewalls. PS, Symantec (the outfit who bought Norton) does not get rid of spyware, you must separately sweep for spyware. Note that Spybot is letting far too many tracking cookies through these days. Get ready for a massive jolt on the Internet.