Wednesday, September 30, 2009

September 30, 2009

           Take a look at some leather scraps. The camera eye isn’t exact, but each of these is a different shade of brown. We have a box of every leather scrap since, I think, the Pre-Cambrian Period. Yep, I’m holding a side of T-Rex. Now that there is an unspoken division of labor at the shop, productivity is gaining. I will never be a full-fledged shoemaker, nor do I want to be. Learning the trade well enough to run the shop is not my goal if only because I view that job as management, something I do not do for somebody else.
           That attitude [toward management] has enormous background and implications for me. I worked through the critical “management” years of my career working for the man, I had my cubicle and my paycheck. Unlike most people, I fully realized that because of that work, I was missing out on the lessons of self-employment that would become important later. (Fortunately, I got out in time to re-capture the skills.) The formula is well-known, if you turn 35 and you are still managing people instead of moving to upper management and making the real money decisions, shall we say there is a hotel in your future.
           I have always been a foremost opponent and critic of the North American brand of middle-management. If you hire a man to do a job and leave him alone to do it, he doesn’t need management, at least not on a daily or hourly basis. If your thinking is contrary, he furthermore doesn’t need any management from you, ever. This enormity of waste in our management practice is totally apparent to overseas competition.
           Just because America has middle-class doesn’t mean we should also have middle-management. Take another close look at which American jobs have disappeared in the past 15 years. All those industries were bloated by middle-managers, all no doubt sold on themselves as firm believers in “scientific management”. The displaced workers are bewildered because they knew they were doing their job right. There are still jobs left but could that be because those jobs have no guess-what? By cutting the fat, the Asians save half their production costs right there.
           I’m not saying the Asian model is superior because it probably is not. Their management chart doubles as a family tree. I’m saying they have no people managers. Instead, a foreman for roughly every 60 employees, and nobody gets that foreman job until they are an expert at every last step of the way. Big time. Contrast that to how many “managers” I’ve had with [an MBA but] no clue how to do my job. They only knew how to criticize [sometimes laughingly called an ‘employee evaluation’] and give lame pep talks. Like that perennial customer always being right bull and that enduring 80/20 rule they think they invented.
           Two incidents of note today. Rankin, who I am now fairly certain is the owner of Findiit.com has been in touch. He is as strapped for cash as any startup. I let him know he can contact me if he needs any allies in this part of the world. In return, I’d like him to tell me how he, as he says, learned to created an interactive web site entirely on his own in a few months. As you know, I have failed at this for years. Not failed, because I haven’t quit yet, but a simple dead-end can stall me for months. I have nobody to turn to that is anywhere near my league in what I’m attempting.
           Second, a sincerely interested party has come back a second time to look at the room. She is a language teacher, quite the respectable-sounding school marm type, and recognizes this place as a bargain if you value a hassle-free home life. The past 18 months have been hard but I know this place was the right decision for everyone. If she moves in, I can assure Wallace everything will keep in perfect order when he is away. And maybe he’ll be tempted to stay here longer, which was the original idea. He says I have all the energy, but in fact he is the one who always wants to go somewhere and I have to decline the invite because I’m exhausted.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

September 29, 2009

           What’s this then? Club XTC is on the block again. Who’d a thunk it? I could dig back in this blog and show the accuracy of my predictions concerning this place, but that would be tacky so I won’t. The bottom line is at 10,000 square feet, this place would not be full if every lboozer in the city showed up for happy hour. It was also a frightfully expensive place. This is the joint I had considered playing in the lounge but wisely decided to let them call me. Now they are gone. Shows you what can happen when you don’t have first class acts like mine to keep them coming back.
           Since a day at work bores me as much as anyone, let me talk about Mars. I follow the project avidly, for as you know, I regard it as 40 years too late. With the way things are going, it will be 75 years overdue by the time we get there. It is exactly the way things are going that forms my opinion. There are mental peons in charge over there, wasting billions “humanizing” the mission, rather than abandoning all forms of tribal behavior and getting the rockets up there.
           I see the main obstacles as the weak-minded insistence of certain types on what is to be included. First and foremost, Antarctica has taught us women cost seven times as much to support. We can’t afford them until later, after the exploration phase. At the same time, working at the phone company showed me how some men can fanatically conceal their sick religion and sexuality until after they are hired for the job. For that reason, I believe the transport ship should incorporate a jettison module, Earth return capability optional. The first wrong word that comes out of their pie-hole in outer space gets a one-way ticket.
           The mission is also made the more expensive and fragile by too many concessions to the wrong kind of people. This is a scientific mission through outer space, not a pleasure cruise of creature comforts. Those who need constant contact with their families, soap opera re-runs and private chapels do not belong inside a space capsule. Some say they could never weed out these sort, but I say they could at least try so hard that anyone who gets past the screening is an obvious charlatan. I maintain to the end that we have no business sending certain types of humans to other planets, and that includes the kind who can’t/won’t (same thing) fend for themselves right here.
           The worst thing we could possibly do to Mars is export our social programs, political parties, religion and faggots up there. And be adamant about it from the start, since these manner of people are not exactly self-disqualifying. Mars is an opportunity to begin anew now that we’ve learned immigration doesn’t work right.

Monday, September 28, 2009

September 28, 2009

           I have a vision, yes it is coming to me now. Why, it is the Hollywood Plaza Hotel and I see this or something like it in so many people’s future. The people who made that killing in real estate since 1970, the ones who have been bragging how much money they’ve made on their houses. That’s $110 per week, share the bath down the hall. Once I had a client in this hotel, and the rooms are unbelievably cramped. But sometimes people just have to make do, you know, like the advice they gave back when they thought they were riding high. Look at the bright side, there will be so many others in the same boat to swap yarns with.
           Another big planning session with Arnel. He is back to work and good as new. This Christmas he is heading to Brazil for a month. That’s the kind of income I need from music, wouldn’t that be nice? I made the traditional error, in that I trusted a guitarist when I knew the bottom line is I have to develop my solo act. It was, mind you, the right decision at the time. I’m out the three and a half months but now have a revised song list.
           What has to change? Arnel says I must learn to sing. Yes, Arnel, and all a fat person has to do is lose weight. Compromise is again my choice. I can sing enough for around an hour, but at that point it has to become Karaoke. There is the possibility I could play along with the Karaoke show, as I am now local top dog at that kind of bass work. As back in May, there is still the matter of the $1,400 in new equipment I’ll be needing. Nor have I found the winning disk format. Arnel uses midi where I tend toward CD+G.
           Whiskey River. That is the name of the band from Boynton Beach. They are playing on October 23 and I intend to see them. Their contact would like me to show up for a practice first. Although both Arnel and I have heard of them, isn’t it something that we know nothing of a band operating just 27 miles away? Alas, Whiskey River is too popular a name for meaningful search results. The confluence of our song lists means I have to at least get to know these people. Or, as Arnel says, I could wind up playing the hospital ship.
           Rankin has been in touch. This is the either the owner or a very higher up in the new “Findiit.com” site. We are both tip-toeing around the idea of me helping out. I’ve explained my computer experience and degrees, as well as how they are not going to do much good for the site. But the skill set is there and it is hard to find disciplined thinkers these days. I told him to count me in if possible. Part of my offer was influenced by the fact that he at least knows how to capitalize his sentences. That is rare too.
           Hello? I can hear again but I’m still as tone-deaf as ever. The doc says I’m good to go but could not offer any explanation of how the problem occurred or anything to prevent a relapse. My hearing always was good, but the left side felt like a mild case of water in the ear that would not entirely go away. In the end, a $6 dose of ear drops from CVS took care of things. I do have curved “adult” ear canals. Probably caused by all those compulsory phone company meetings. Work there long enough and the water gets past the ear and onto the brain.
           I dropped by Jimbos after hours to work the Sudoku puzzle. By coincidence, half the dart teams also showed up, which always makes for lively fare. Don’t mistake the Jimbos team for a bunch of fuddy-duddies. (“Who let the darts out?”) Jimbos has staff professionally trained with plastic spray guns to hose down horny women who crawl up on the bar. I won’t mention any names, Leanne.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

September 27, 2009

           Remember the potato starch cookies? I made them and they are quite okay. Crispy. My rationale was that as far as cookie ingredients can go, potato starch was not bad. The physics are strange but the cookies are feather light, the 24 shown here are just a half pound. Since I added the margarine and egg, they are home made. Technically.
           Lap banding. I looked it over to discover only vague descriptions of the actual procedure. Whereas I am finally accepting what several doctors have said, that my weight gain is hereditary, I’m open to all reasonable options. I’m saying there is more than curiosity to this search. The clinics state it is non-invasive (using a variety of unclear terms) and that one can return to work within a few days. Oh goodie doctor, I never had a job before. It seems to be a clamp of some type that constricts the stomach volume.
           Such procedures are probably useless without an accompanying change in lifestyle. That’s where the question arises if the change alone would not be enough. The shills say they lost “up to” 100 pounds in a year. A year is a long time. The technique was pioneered in Europe. Europe is a big place. The skinny (ha-ha) on this one is the cost. It is $30,000 (ads saying less are bogus). The credit plan has payments of $200 per month, so let me calculate it out assuming a mild 5% interest.
           Rounded, that comes to 236 payments or around 20 years, a total payback of $47,180 thereabouts. Roughly the same as a two bedroom house in North Broward. At $472 per pound, they must have tested it in Poland. That’s got to be twice the cost of the Big Macs that put it there, you slobs. They didn’t lie, that kind of money would indeed be a lifestyle change for the most of us. Think Lexus.
           Theresa called from Camp Wilmie, made my day. I invited her back any time. It would be nice to have somebody to hang out with again. Somebody in the same demographic, I mean. Contrary to the impression I got during my visit, she reports the job situation there is not good at all. Admit it or not, this recession has torn the heart out of this country and there will be no mercy since we had it coming. Fifty years of living on credit and the fiesta is finito.
           Arnel checked in, he is pretty much recovered from the appendicitis. That means he’ll be performing next week. He is still convinced I’d put on a good show by learning to play guitar and singing, using midi tracks, similar to his show. But I’ve tried to learn guitar, it just doesn’t have the uniqueness I need in what I play. There is another thing if you watch closely. Most other “singing” bassists can’t sing and play bass well at the same time. For whatever fancy licks they do solo, they revert to root bass as soon as they start singing. Having never played guitar, I don’t have that problem. Just something I point out, so I’ll stick with the bass.
           Modern Marvels said the first “Coke machine” was invented in 1939. That has some interesting implications concerning the labor market even back then. Knowing Florida, that machine is probably still in use down in the Keys.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

September 26, 2009

           Strange as this claim seems, I sometimes intentionally ruffle things up for fun. Take the situation where I stumble across a weird or unusual picture. I’ll post it on Craigslist and go back to see how many people copied it. At times I’ve been responsible for a good 25% of the crazy photos you’ll find at the local listings. Here is my latest submission, a Jamaican soup mix. Some of my earlier “successes” include the often repeated jpegs of those two Korean fags in red and blue slings holding magnets, and the black and white of those two inbred hillbilly brothers. Yep, it was me started those.
           Where are the tourists? I’ve had a record good month for this year, but I could be the only one. Minding the shop on what should be the busiest day was a little boring. In a unique move in this town, I warranty my lessons, that is, I teach until the lesson is learned. I had a former student come in and it took two hours out of my Saturday. How many times do I have to tell the world, get a completely anonymous email address that gives out zero personal information. An address like “sandra23” has already given the bad people all they need to know to target you.
           Back to the musical drawing board. The gung-ho guitarist I had lined up to counter-insure Eddie has disappeared. To demonstrate that outcome was expected, I’ll rehash the matter. I placed an ad on Craigslist. Any misunderstanding of my ad is deliberate, so I have methods to combat the whankers who answer every ad. Remember 2007? To be considered, the respondent must acknowledge he is joining an existing situation, a country-based duo.
           The problem is, after examining my song list, the guitarist starts into what he wants to play. At this point he is already fired, but I continue to listen. In every instance to date, these “suggestions” are not tunes chosen for their beneficial effect on the crowd (as are 100% of my choices), but music the self-centered guitarist can already play. Wrong motive. This is where democracy breaks down. If you want to play your own song list, you start your own band. You don’t join mine and commence your weird-music sales pitch on me.
           Craigslist. It has imitators and I am quick to recognize when somebody new has been inspired or frustrated by what the original site was doing wrong. Biggest problems with Craigslist are: flagging abuse, miscategorization, spam. It is too early to tell, but over the next few days I will test-drive a new product called “Findiit.com”. I ran some preliminary checks which may have impressed the owner, as he personally wrote back to me the same day. I’ll refer to him as “Rankin”. He vows to keep the site free from the parrot-heads on Craigslist. More importantly, he says he is not a programmer, but learned to create the site by reading Google results. Interesting. Check back, particularly those who remember I was the third user of Craigslist in all of Florida. And the two people ahead of me could not spell.
           On the way to Bingo, I stopped for coffee again at the bakery on Harrison. The Hippie was there, so we played a few tunes along with a sax man. Biggest change would be that I’ve been playing the music every week (instead of twice a year), so I can focus on presentation and add things like light background vocals. That made for some respectable music, but the act still lacks the essential “work-together” quality for club work and instead each of us was playing one part. It goes without saying, if you are going to do covers, you must do the originals and do them right. The coffee was really bad.
           My music class is at the half-way point. The assimilation of the rules as introduced over the previous month is producing results. I wish it was possible to write these down. Fact is, music is too complicated for that and anything published will fall short. I’ll offer a guess that performing means doing around 30 things at once. It is amazing now to randomly pick a tune and watch five people play it through, in some cases without ever having heard it before. (Random is not exactly the word, as I am working off a list of known simple music that follows the formula. Still, for just six hours of group lessons it is a huge accomplishment for these people.) I haven’t told them they are booked at Jimbos on October 9. Just kidding, already. Or am I?

Friday, September 25, 2009

September 25, 2009

           See my primary transportation in this photo? My seven-speed Jamus with the gear teeth so worn, I actually have a four-speed. It is not that late, only around 8:00 PM, but I felt the scene illustrates the emptiness of this town. (It isn’t really that eerie so this jpeg has been brightened somewhat to convey the feeling.) In case you’ve noticed the rarity of night photos, it is because evening is not blog prime time. I always have something to do but I also recognize that the majority of single people do not. Maybe one day they’ll figure out the best singles activity by far: performing music.
           So you’ll know, the majority of this blog is written between 6:15 and 7:00 AM, while I’m making breakfast and getting the day lined up. We’ve got new neighbors in Carlos’ old place. They are Latino and keep entirely to themselves. Which reminds me, Carlos has vanished into the Florida void. No, not the Everglades but the construction industry. That’s where you wake up one day and zing, you are 50 years old and no matter how you slice it, still in the construction industry. In fact, the only construction person I know is Wallace and he got out of it years ago.
           In a some-time habit, I look at real estate on Fridays. It is still scary out there. The advertising has continued along like there is nothing wrong. Nonsense, not only are people leaving Florida because there are no jobs that pay enough to buy a house here, but I suspect that proportionately more people die every day in this State. Prices have not yet begun to drop if you ask me. Oddly, one of the few places with stable home prices is this very neighborhood. Court living is again proving that it is the only way left to beat the Florida system.
           The term used for “losers” in real estate is “negative equity”. This is where the buyer owes more on the property than it is worth. It affects around one property in four in the US and around four out of five (if the truth were known) in Florida. Some talk is that a bailout will allow people to refinance at the lower value, but that will not work—even the prices are still vastly inflated. Admitting the price has dropped will cause neighboring properties to drop, just like they all once climbed at the same time.
           My comment concerns not the borrowers, but the lenders. American accounting law allows accounts receivable to be listed as current assets. In reality, that money is no more secure than the ability of people to repay it. Thus, billions of dollars of rock solid companies are really worthless loans. Sooner or later, these big shots are going to have to re-evaluate back to reality. And it is already later.
Of course, none of this in any way concerns those who don’t owe any money. Those who planned ahead and know how to live within their means need not even be concerned about real estate prices. But I like to watch prices anyway, remember I promised Wallace to keep an eye out and don’t be surprised if one day soon that seashore cottage is a reality.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

September 24, 2009

           It follows that many people lament the changing character of downtown Hollywood. The quaintness has, in general, disappeared, to be replaced by high-priced restaurants and don’t you get fooled by those fake $6.99 dinner specials. It’s twenty beans by the time you get out of there. There are very few real stores left, so I don’t know if this new display is a move forward or backward. A full size fortune teller mannequin, I’ll grant it is more eye-catching than say, a stock broker display, and certainly at least as good for your financial future.
           More happy times at the shoemaker shop, as our distinctive personalities begin to emerge. The pronounced differences in our problem-solving mechanisms can get hilarious. What do you do when you encounter an error? I tend to fix it and keep on going. Alfredo likes to investigate the cause, which can be matters like variations in glue quality. Today a customer wanted leather heels. We could only find one in the shop. So we made up a pair. All I can say is that those heels are 100% real leather and they will last 500 years.
           No word back from the Boynton band after our exchange of song lists. They will have noticed I could play a gig with them in a pinch. I can wait for that pinch. Don’t be surprised if weeks become months as the band-forming apparatus in Florida is as sporadic and empty as most of its people. Too many musicians tend to think their musical philosophy is as important as their abilities. In reality, there is only one philosophy that works: get out there and play.
           Final book report on “The R Document”, my most recent read: worth reading if you like predictability. It was, no doubt in its day, a fast moving thriller. Since then so many virtually identical works have come and gone , that through no fault of its own, the book becomes stale as a Seinfeld rerun. With nearly 40 characters, there is no time to develop any of them. Most lasting impression? That’s easy, the story took place back in a time when the media didn’t invent the news. As an example, the Attorney Generals wife had been acquitted of murder and managed to cover that up even from him. Try that today.
           Today’s trivia comes from “Cash Cab”. What is the worst city in the world for traffic accidents, with one occurring every minute? Djakarta, the capital of Indonesia and no word on how many of those accidents are fatalities. Another fact came up about that country. Because of the heavy Muslim presence, which I’ll bet the native Indonesians just love, the models in Playboy magazine have to be fully clothed. What is it with Muslims, they don’t like naked women? If Muslims ever declare war, we could always bomb them with back issues of Hustler. Meanwhile, think of all the employment created for the locals who put paper cutout clothes on the nudie pictures, you know, with those little fold-over tabs.
           October 15, come on. Winter arrives in Florida on that date, give or take a few hours. A more reliable indicator is the number of Quebec license plates. In case you missed it before, 135,000 French Canadians move into Broward county each winter. These are not retired lawyers, so it goes without saying the majority of them are on welfare in Canada. If you wonder how they get away with it, I’ll remind you they have a complete separate infrastructure in this town, including banks and doctors with billing addresses in Montreal. It has been the hottest September yet, maybe even hotter due to what I just said.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

September 23, 2009

           Ah, a quiet evening with a good book and a good cat. Pudding-Tat kind of grows on you, and she grows on this chair out in the yard at most other opportunities. It gets sweltering hot in this town, but not blistering or scorching hot because of the high ocean humidity. I get into my favorite recliner, face two or three fans on that spot and take it easy. The fans counteract any page-flipping breezes and the turbulence keeps me cool.
           Mike, from the shop, took his car in again. This is the luxury car that cost him $48,000. It was a lemon and has gone back to the shop 23 times for a cost of $32,000 in warranty work. Of course, everyone wants to know why the manufacturer doesn’t just give him a new car. Don’t know. That seems to be the one thing they won’t even consider. This time they had to pull the motor to replace the timing chain. Remind me to get you the details. Everything has been replaced on that car from the air conditioner to the wiper motors.
           All set for a partial book report on “The R Document”? As figured, 27 names have been introduced and the plot has yet to take its first turn. This 1970s style of writing has always stymied me, do we really need to know the names of everybody’s chauffeur and bodyguard? The book conceitedly expects the reader to understand inter-relationships between political offices, like anyone cares about the difference between an Assemblyman and a Legislator. Amusingly, the book has all the early vestiges of the descent into the made-for-movies cesspool of the next three decades. The second wife is pregnant, the protagonist needs to “stretch his six-foot-two frame” and the names of government people are truly poetic, such as Vernon Ryan and Noah Baxter.
           I’m only half-way through but somehow the women so far have managed to be housewives and secretaries. It was not until after 1980 we learned all divorced women were black belts, nuclear physicists and aggressively self-assertive. The “hear me roar” crowd. They’re everywhere and they’ve had their hair kinked for that natural I’m-always-right hooker look, generally behaving like good examples for the next generation. People like Madonna know a lot about that.
           Having a closer listen to “Hotel California”, I cannot believe the Eagle’s regular bass player had anything to do with developing that bass line. All previous Eagle’s bass work was downright anemic. What? After releasing several albums of virtually identical schlock, you don’t think the Eagles suddenly developed a completely different sound for that one tune, did you. They stole it from an earlier European piano solo called “Black Forest”, written some 25 years earlier. At any rate, to do a proper job, that bass line has to be custom re-written to include several passages that require a second guitar, a very unlikely thing to be seen on my stage.
           Later, as in 1:17 AM, I’m turning in. The book I’m reading, like most such books, captivates me. Although two-thirds done reading, the story is still introducing new people, causing me to go back to my reference list in case I missed anything. The author has also stepped up the use of aliases and fake identities. I hope none of this is on the exam. I stopped keeping track at around 37 names, as the rate is slowing down and the important names are more evident through repetition.
           Okay, sneak preview at tomorrow. I finished the book which assured us all the FBI and CIA will never be able to snoop in on innocent American citizens or abrogate the Bill of Rights over some cooked-up threat. While the book never stated any concrete examples, weapons of mass destruction and Homeland Security do come to mind. The book was also an interesting precursor of the “feed the facts slowly” style a few years later. There are no Clancy-esque sub-plots, but there is that constant annoyance that people’s names are the most important part of any action, said the President’s ex-wife’s third cousin-in-law, twice removed, what was her damn name again?
           Last, the book is made unnecessarily long by sentences like “he slept fitfully on the sofa for the next two hours before boarding the airliner”. One message this brand of books put across that is never acknowledged is the massive waste that goes on in government machinery for authors to be able to cash in on it with these novels. As one of my favorite authors, P. J. O’Rourk, might say, the Attorney General does for justice what the Postmaster General does for fast mail delivery.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

September 22, 2009

           So much for the theory the days get cooler when they get shorter. Take a look at these guys in the morning. The largest at center is around thee feet long including the tail. They look lethargic but can really move. I knew a Canadian lady who could not stand lizards but could not understand that I didn’t like mosquitos.
           I met a lady at the computer shop this morning before work. Tall, brunette, self-employed, own house and truck. Such a woman isn’t wandering around unattached, that much we know. So what is the catch? I gave her my phone number with an invite to call next time she just wants to socialize. We’ll see how she deals with that, but be assured with my experience concerning women’s motivations, I won’t be surprised at much. She has the mannerisms of a serial divorcee. Not a problem. I’m not husband material.
           Rationalizing that I should have a spare by now, I picked up and shouldered six different basses at Guitar Center. Y’day I mentioned prices up to $2,199, which led to questions and the answer is that price was for the ton-of-bricks Corvette model. Every one of these instruments was out of balance, that is, the neck was too heavy for the body, so you spend the evening holding it up in addition to playing. FYI, this difficulty is referred to by bassists as “neck dive”. I may wind up having to consider another customized unit, though I’ll never find another Vinnie since Mars Music went under.
           Who remembers what “Net Neutrality” is? That is the rule that keeps access to the Internet on an equal basis for all users. Mind you, that is characteristic bureaucrat equality, meaning equal only for those who have computers, modems, monthly cash, electricity and so on. If the Internet providers had their way, they would charge more for different grades of access. Don’t confuse this with your bit-rate speed. It means when a site you need is busy, instead of waiting, you are offered the option to bump somebody by paying a small fee right away. Net Neutrality says no way, so the providers are saying fine, we won’t keep upgrading our service. Lately, hotmail has become incredibly slow. I don’t know why, but I have noticed it is slowest at known peak periods.
           I’m all for Net Neutrality, but I’m also against forcing the providers to pony up for new servers. Should fee-based service arrive, it is not my problem what others can’t afford, but it might throw some sense into the way some people use the Internet. The very idea of charging, however, strongly indicates the market is becoming monopolistic, or at least becoming that variation on monopoly where the market is dominated by a few large sellers. The opposite of oligopoly. I took my last economics course in 1987 so I’m allowed a memory lapse.
           My affinity for detective and spy novels prompted me to begin “The R Document”. It came out some thirty years ago by an author I can’t recall, but all of his books titles start with “The”. That guy. One reason I’ll put off a book for so long is excessive characters. The “Doonesbury Rule”, if I have to keep track of 35 different characters, is it fun anymore? I’ll be keeping a log of the characters. Ah, Irving Wallace, that’s the authors name. And I will forget it again just as quickly.
           Jack, the racehorse guy, has computer troubles again, so I was over there for a couple of hours. Once again, it is an AOL problem. Get that crap off your computer even if you are a subscriber. Use a different browser to go to the AOL site. What have I told you about digital cameras? They are a risky device unless you download your photos regularly. Jack had this expensive brand-name camera that he took exactly nine pictures with in three years. Could not figure out how to work the download feature. He now has a Facebook account, which explains why the camera is now important.
           Actually, we had intended to scan his favorite portrait for his profile, but his computer has the loathsome “Vista” system coupled to an equally dismal HP printer. Neither stubborn party will allow the others equipment to work right. Vista wants only “approved” devices, which means you pay them money to get approved. What’s that smell?
           Oh, and for all the people who call me about the message that keeps popping up that your anti-virus has been disabled: that is a virus causing the popup. The virus is self-installing and self-starting every time you boot up. It is called “Fakeavalert”. You have to get rid of it. If you don’t know how, remember that I have always been a fee-based service.

Monday, September 21, 2009

September 21, 2009

           Here is a rack of basses, ranging in price from $499 to $2,199. The immortal Fender guitars now seem to be the low end and smallest selection. The instruments shown here are all long-neck models, sometimes called full-size basses. More like full weight. The only one I cared for was the good old Fender Jazz Bass. It was first designed and built from a modified telecaster around 1956. Prior to that, bands actually used those humongous stand-up basses that were taller than the musician.
           The equinox, not like my days are getting any shorter. I was all the way out to Pinecrest again to pick up a single sheet of paper. Fine, because I spent an hour in the bookstore over there. The Florida rule applies that it takes at least a half a day to accomplish any one project. I found a book that published some techniques of how to establish an alibi for a crime. The amusing part is that it contained some of the oldest tactics I used to use at the phone company.
           Only, I never used them to cover for crimes, but to keep off “suspect lists”. These are the times the phone company goes on a witch hunt. Anyway, the trick was to make them think they have no reason to cook things up against you. If this sounds confusing, just remember that success in the phone company is largely dependent on who is the best back-stabber. I know you really want to hear about some of the tricks. The problem is I can’t tell you that without blowing the cover.
           What I can do is tell you the overall approach that works the best. It is to make everyone think the event in question happened at some other time than it really did. Thus, when I took a two-hour lunch break instead of the permitted half hour, it was a simple matter of changing the computer system time to simulate work. The same can be done with emails and blogs can be programmed to post while you are away. It is not reliable, but you can always lend your cell phone to a talker and be miles away, if you follow and understand the GPS cell phone feature. Another good one is to video yourself practicing music with a wall clock set to the wrong time in the background.
           You get the idea. This is a variation on the old trick of setting a clock ahead an hour, then smashing it to make it look like it was broken during the crime. The investigators will fancy themselves clever and eliminate you as a suspect. Over long periods, I was one of the few who was never disciplined for the type of infractions that phone supervisors love to put on performance evaluations.
           Guitar Center does not sell the Zoom drum box I’m seeking, nor does anyone there know about the sound quality. It is apparently for sale over at Sam Ash (Music) out on 826 (Palmetto Freeway). This means a car trip but I have to hear this box before I decide. The biggest expense besides the sound quality is changing brands. There is no way to transport your settings to a different make of machine. They don’t use the midi format. A staff man at Guitar Center said to look into “Groove Agent” by a company called Steinberg. As I’ve said, most drum boxes are made for people with studio mindsets, so I’m not expecting that product to actually work. Studio people often do not understand the requirements for stage work, including rapid setup time, light weight and ease of programming.
           Shopping from the checkout. We all know these types. At the checkout they remember they want something else, or want to swap something, anything to inconvenience the lineup. Today was the worst, which merits attention. Some lady took 21 minutes to get her ass out of the way. Predictably she was stupid, fat, old and spending a welfare voucher. That amount of time is an eternity, but she didn’t care. She wanted regular mix. Since she could not find it on the shelf, she brought flavored mix up and insisted the cashier go exchange it for her. She backed the lineup into the aisles and people’s ice cream was melting. Typical welfare case. I don’t need to tell you any more because what you are thinking is 100% correct.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

September 20, 2009

           The bass is evolving. There are a couple of changes I could do without. One is the weight. From an electronic standpoint, there is no cause to believe a heavy bass sounds better than a light one. It is almost as if some guitar dork rationalized that bass is well, low, heavy, base metal, has to weigh a lot, that type of thinking. Today I found the dreadnought, a bass called a “Corvette”. My estimate is 25 to 28 pounds. Another equally shallow idea is that a bass has to be big. See here are some five-string basses with wider necks. I have seen six-string units, but the question remains, at what point are you no longer playing bass?
           With the shop, lesson, Bingo and the gaps between, Saturdays have become one very long day at almost 15 hours. Now I need Sunday off and that is a traditional music day. Today I was looking at the possibility of learning “Hotel California”. There is no polite way to say this, but that one song attracts the wrong kind of people to stage-side. Play it and middle-age men will gather around and start talking shit.
           Nor did I make it to the book store. Part of the disincentive there is the trimming of the selections on the bookshelves. I can’t blame them for targeting what sells and the fiction sections have burgeoned. The computer section has degenerated into chaos with hundreds of cryptical volumes about Internet systems, none of which really work any better than the original because they spawn their own software ambushes. I have long since forgotten what things like Joomla are used for. Each of these specialized codes demands a huge time investment, but the fact they are overtaken so easily shows they never were innovative. It’s enough to make traditional programmers ignore them.
           I had time to examine my projections for a trip to Texas. Except for the gas prices, the costs have remained around the same for almost ten years. That’s driving and motel costs, not bicycling. The cross-country bike tour is on hold but I’m getting closer to a decision on that one. Wouldn’t that be something, biking across America? I’d prefer Europe but meanwhile there is plenty of adventure right here.
           The weekly guitar class is around half way to the goal, I’ll elaborate. After just five weeks, we are at the stage where playing a new piece of music is a short operation. (Guitar is much easier than bass.) There are five students and the lessons are over when they can play twenty tunes each. I stress these are not “music” lessons, for if they were, after five months they’d still be memorizing scales and chords. Musical personalities are cropping up all over and for the first time my class has nobody interested in drumming or singing. Usually somebody discovers a new talent. Seriously, if any one of my students had been in the building on Friday, I would have got them into the act. Careful what I mean by that; they are not ready but neither was anyone else.
           Anything on the Boynton band? I ran through their extensive song list and I know 26 of their 141 tunes ready to go perform now. Another 44 would be ready as soon as I listen to them again. The other half of the list, well, some I’ve never heard of (like “Sleepwalk” and “Queen of Memphis”). Still, the degree of overlap between our lists is remarkable. They do a Four Non-Blondes tune called “What’s Up”, which is one I learned for Genie. She’s hardly country so I wonder who sings it in Boynton.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

September 19, 2009

           Duh, okay. I could not let this photo stay in the file banks forever. "Asian Chow." It is a fast food joint as authentic as the egg roll and the fortune cookie. I walked past this place in a mall food court. One look at their prices and I walked past the restaurant, too. My oath, how do those billions of Chinese manage to eat like that on an average income of $45 per year?
           This would be that kind of day called eventful. I minded the shop and the long missing video security people finally came back. I correctly guessed they had scored a big contract but were now between jobs. That type of thing happens when you don’t have someone like me lining up the work. They had to buy stock for the display, a good sign of commitment. That 47” x 80” space is the 2009 zone of fate. For the record, twenty-four days from now I will have been without a job in five years. (This does not state I have not worked in that time.) May I safely conclude that I will be able to survive on my investment income in another 38 months?
           I’ve been toying with the software cam system I described recently and it already caught or prevented the first theft. I had propped up my recorder near my on-line work and was serving a customer. A gypsy type came in and pretended he was looking at the screen and grabbed it. Then he spotted the video and tried to pretend he only took the recorder to show me the type of plug he wanted. I told him if he ever touched anything in this shop ever again without permission, it would be his last time. What a drift-bag.
           It was an afternoon of music and some of my students had the flu. I’m certain not to be jinxed but the recent tally is un-nerving. Arnel is recovering, and who remembers Dawn? She was hit and run and now has both legs in a cast. On top of that, the Bingo game was wiped out tonight. I done said how everyone spent all their money at the Thursday benefit, so we had five players instead of twenty-five. On the other hand, we’ve learned we can have a great game with that few. The Powerball is up to $52.
There was a new guy in the room who, every time he got a number, could say with a perfect accent, that famous Austin Powers line, “Yeah, baby, yeah”.
           On the way through town, I went to grab a coffee at the Italian place and I hear a familiar strum. It was the Hippie playing at a bakery on Harrison. After an unusually amicable greeting, he mentioned the 30th anniversary of Churchill’s. This is the pub Wallace first visited way back in 2001. In those days, the staff included Enzu, Barbara and Honalee. The Hippie was playing there later but I had too many commitments, although it would have been a great reunion. Mike the Spike is still selling the place, for what, ten years now?
           The band from Boynton has written back again. They certainly have a deliberate and profession way of recruiting, making me think they are full time musicians. I’m unsure of the best way to proceed but I cannot simply pretend that my deadlines here will change just because Eddie and I are not ready. As soon as Boynton gives me a band name, I’ll use it, since the 15 year rule does not apply to non-people.
           Trivia. New stats show that over 60% of Americans can’t last between paychecks. Up from 42% five years ago. That translates to them racking up credit card debt or cashing in their IRAs. Gee, who’d have predicted such a thing? I wish I’d kept some of those middle-class pamphlets from my college days. Remember those geniuses that gave advice on how to get ahead? Like if you were dirt poor and needed to raise $100,000 for a franchise, you were supposed to sell some of your old jewelry or that upstate subdivision dad gave you that you weren’t really using.
           A little more trivia. I’ve been trying to find a clear definition of this term “virtualization” that is supposed to be the next computer wave. I take it to mean that all programs and systems will be transparent. It also means centralization of the data, a dangerous thing. Anyone who doubts that authority will abuse databanks probably doesn’t understand what true logic behind a driver’s license. Consider the qubit computer, short for quantum bit.
           Computers as we know them have reached their electronic limits, so time to move it to the subatomic level. These qubit (say “cube it”) processors have strange capabilities. The driving force behind their development is not scientific research. Their purpose is code-breaking. Not spy codes, but private key codes. This is ordinary software you can get at Best Buy to design a code that would require 3 million years to crack.
           A qubit computer will do it in seconds. It should also be obvious that any entity that desperate to read your email cannot be trusted. In the face of this, even the most gullible Bambi out there has to question why the stop-at-nothing frenzie to get at your personal correspondence. The most powerful government agencies are not funding qubits just to discover you are such a sweetheart you have nothing to hide.
           Consider the counter-measure. If qubits arrive, the so-called bad guys will buy their own qubit to generate the next level of code. Those in power know they can’t catch the bad guys, so why do they still want the system? Right. Now you are thinking.
           My favorite dumb commercial today? Crest, where the lady says she is challenging her husband. So lady, how long has your husband been challenged?

Friday, September 18, 2009

September 18, 2009

           It is becoming clear, hopefully clearer than this photo. Without asking, I am afraid all the property of Eric is now available for sale. My mini-camcorder, which I am using for still photos, has a macro setting and I forgot to change it before this shot. I wonder what the policy on unoccupied units is around here? They probably charge full rent, but it would be very uneconomical for them to remove anything that is just sitting there. Chances are they go for possession. Thank goodness I am the youngest, healthiest guy in the court.
           Finally, things may have picked up for the season. That still means a 70% drop in revenues over the last three years, so don’t start partying yet. The last summer has been the leanest since I was a college student. I’m probably the only person you know who had to stand in the ditch and hitchhike to college, so when I say lean, don’t second-guess me. Let me make a quick calculation here. How about that? When adjusted for inflation, my monthly rent in college was $261 higher than today. I still sometimes wonder what I might have done in college if I’d lived in a quiet decent part of town instead of renting a $90 attic on 17th. (The average rent was around $385 back then.)
           My big faux pas, I ran into Laura, the Karaoke lady last evening and could not place her name. All my life I remember people positionally, and she was not supposed to be in Jimbos. It also turns out a few minutes after I sang and left, that English guitar guy walked in. He’s met Jackie and the gang. The evening was a benefit for Ron, who passed away last year. I hope the Englishman doesn’t think it is that full in Jimbos all the time. He phoned to say he’ll be back tonight with his guitar.
           One thing I needed was a day to normalize all my music files and it was today. Cancel all other plans. My burn lists for the show are only around a quarter of all the files which have now become exceedingly valuable for all the work done. My note here says two years ago I was to keep track of the durability of CD-RW disks. I still do not know the maximum, as I rotate the disks for backup security but I can tell you my top disk (FarmerAB) has survived 28 rewrites. However, these disks suffer reburn problems unless deep-erased at slow speed (around 20 minutes per disk). A simple overwrite or fast erase causes a host of strange errors, some of which appear on your disk player later.
           It is mid-afternoon and Eddie called. I had to deliver my standard speech about the need for speed. If he wants to keep up the momentum, he is going to have to get a stand and make up some cheat sheets. Whereas I know how to keep flights of imagination in check, he still subconsciously sees a duo as an interim step to starting a “real” band. That is a Florida musical delusion spread, it can be shown, by people too cheap to turn their air conditioning quite all the way up. Eddie is excused because he is totally Left Coast from a bygone era. Really bygone.
           By evening, it was clear the Jimbos crowd had spent all their money y’day. But I played the gig anyway, partially because I knew that Eddie has not been practicing. Fewer people would be there to notice. The notable part was the Englishman showed up and unintentionally provided the comic relief. First of all, he could not understand how we knew what music to play when there was no “lead” guitarist to provide us with the proper guidance. We asked him how he figured that and he replied that he is a musician and he plays such and such a song. Since we don’t play it, there must be some question as to whether we are really musicians. Even weirder, when people began to sing along, he failed to understand why we played quieter instead of louder. We’ve decided should he become a patron, to keep him around as an example. Of the classic “guitar-think” profile.
           There was one thing he did not imagine, however. Eddie was indeed dropping chords. Guitarists rarely realize they do it and get away by demanding proof, which is always so expensive they know most people won’t try. Slimy, but it works. I did several times tape such errors only to have the guitarist refuse to view them and even insinuate they were fakes, or worse, that I was just being nasty. I’ll tell you the real motive. Most interesting bass lines are a full measure long, and often walk to the next chord change. When a guitarist fails to complete the measure, the bass line is left hanging. This forces the bass player to stick to simplistic half-measure patterns that can accommodate said drop-chord errors. Then you get a bad attitude from the guitarist who thinks you are not being innovative enough.
           Say, doesn’t that remind us all of you-know-who?

Thursday, September 17, 2009

September 17, 2009

           Here’s a representative jpeg of a local coffeeshop. I found this one when my usual spot closed up for a week. Most Latino run places are quite small, usually less than ten seats. My favorite, café con leche sin azucar, will run you between $1.20 and $1.60 unless you accidentally walk into an Americanized place, in which case it is at least $2.50.
           Of all the. Guess who came down with appendicitis and is out of action for the next two weeks? The awesome Arnel. He’s got all three major paying gigs at the beach tied up on the weekends, Toucan’s, the Riptide and the Walkabout. Prime time, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. I told you he was Numero Uno, and sharing those gigs is the exact slice of pie I am missing out on. I’m auditioning other guitarists as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Arnel is out a lot of hard cash.
           The band from Boynton Beach is seriously trying to recruit me. It is not a duo and it is so far away. Their song list is nearly identical to mine and they have been around for a long time, playing from the Keys to Tampa. I really have to think this one through, they have some powerful enticements to offer. Take their song list, for example. I do not scout other country bands, I play what the audience wants. Then along comes a professional show band with a completely different history and almost same song list. Which proves again that the rest of the army is marching wrong.
           They also have some correct procedures, including playing the tune in the original key or not playing it at all. If you are going to play covers, there are rules that some people never grasp, and that is one of them. Another is to play the original hit unless something prevents it, none of this Zydeco ka-hooey. They have stated their rehearsals amount to tightening up the intros and outros. You are expected to show up knowing the body of the tune. There are many such tell-tale signs of encouragement.
           This is definitely in contrast to people I’ve tried to work with in this town. The locals who sing and play seem to think that actually gives them two votes. You spend months learning their crappy song list without any guaranty they will rehearse a given tune at the next practice or play that tune at the next gig. That situation means no incentive to knuckle down and create a catchy bass line (the way I traditionally do with each tune I play). On top of that, they’ll make some snarky comment that you “could be a decent bass player” if you really tried. Tried what? To become a mind-reader?
           Locals don’t like fixed set lists either, for it takes away from the illusion they are calling the stage shots and you are the lowly camp follower. Any tune you want to play, forget it. They’ll invent an excuse, my favorite being that it “isn’t right” for their voice, or they’ll suggest you sing it. (Like, if you could sing it you’d be putting up with their bullsh in the first place.)
           The last time one of my ex-guitarists phoned to re-form our duo, I thought he had learned his lesson about my abilities (he had convinced himself I had no musical future without him). Nope, reality sailed between his ears unimpeded in both directions. This, from an individual who can only dream of a house gig. When I began to discuss assurances to prevent a repeat of his musical dictatorship, he hung up. That’s the same dodo who kicks others off stage whenever he decides to solo. No wonder he is perpetually playing coffee houses that work out to less than minimum wage. My expenses have now dropped to 10.7%. On an hourly basis, I handily make many times the money he does. Yep, completely, utterly unimpeded.
           Granted, you say, but what about the exciting news from the shoe shop? Your patience is now rewarded. Grasshopper. We are finally beginning to see shoes from the new China. They are held together mainly by glue, even the stitching is fake. Mind you, it is real leather, still by far the best material for footwear and likely to stay that way. And that glue is something else. It can become real employment when something needs to be removed. The downside is the non-leather parts, such as the insoles, tend to be made of a paper-like material. Until you own a shop, you have no idea how bothersome walk-in sales people can be. When you point to the “no soliciting” sign, they do what I would do. Say, “I thought that meant everybody else but me.”

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

September 16, 2009

           An outstanding day to appreciate the reconnection of running water. Like many public corporations artificially protected from tort liability, there can be insane delays. On the other hand, the Florida hurricane emergency squads have the option to perform feats. I came home and luxuritated in a twenty-minute shower. Others were not so advantaged, for today’s photo, with the semi-famous tenement in the background, is another example of Florida rapid response. In this case, it was for a motorcycle rider who tried to beat the Southbound up on Johnson.
           Strong stomachs take hold. It requires time for a train to stop and they found half his torso just north of Hollywood Blvd, near center of this jpeg. I hesitated to get any closer, this blog being pretty much a family show. A family like yours, I mean. My family would automatically pretend it was their business to side with the underdog and blame the engineer. Most of these few details came from Alexis, the babe at G’s Place, which is just to the right side of this view.
           On the way home, I stopped back at the Octopus (Octopus’ Garden) to see the open mic. Genie was an hour late getting started and the drummer did not show, fancy that. Nor did practically anybody else. I like Genie but organized confusion is not my breakfast. I know I am stuck with no vocalist again but the day is drawing closer when I will just do it myself. I’ve also noticed that while my act is in continual evolution, hers has not changed a bit.
           An article on nanotubes always gets my attention. Fortune Small Business reports a company called Nanocomp stopped a bullet with four sheets of the material. The real reason the report intrigued me was that it contained facts that I believed were common knowledge whereby I never wrote anything. I assumed everybody knew the following: Nanotubes came along around the same time as the popular Internet. They are produced in tiny lengths and the individual who invents a continuous incubator will be the first trillionaire. Instantaneously. The market for this stuff is staggeringly unthinkable as it will revolutionize everything “including the way we live, think and fight wars”. It is the next great American invention, but beware of the old saying “Imitation is the slimiest form of competition”. Actually, that isn’t an old saying. I made it up.
           At present only tiny lengths of the tubes can be grown. Resembling a grey powder, it is blended with other ingredients to produce specialty items like tent poles. Most research is funded by the military for among other things, the lightweight nanotubes have very little electrical resistance. The fuselage of the entire tank or airplane could become wiring which automatically re-routes itself around any damage. As soon as the threads can be made longer than microscopic, the industry will burgeon. Jobwise, it won’t pay any more than ordinary textile work. Nanocomp is no nincompoop.
           The same article gave me today’s trivia. Bulletproof vests are currently made of Kevlar. DuPont manufactures, get this, 50,000 tons of it per year. That’s tons, including armor plates. Their facilities will become obsolete the moment nanotubes arrive. And there is every chance the breakthrough will be a backyard experimenter, as the nano-growing process is completely software controlled. I have a basic understanding of sub-atomic structures.
           Lastly, something I can’t go into (blog rules) but a known band from near Boyton Beach has been inviting me to rehearse. That is 57 miles one way, on the other hand. I’ve hinted my decision was cost-driven (for $1,000 a week I’d play in Canada). They have responded that one member commutes from Sebring (around 95 miles). I emailed them saying “not to rule anything out” at this point.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

September 15, 2009

           This is the silhouette to the Octopus, that eentsy bar on Hollywood. I played there tonight, in particular the bass lines I have re-written to Pink, Maroon 5 and Lavigne. The originals lacked pizzazz and needed to be brought forward to this era. And that’s what happened. I don’t like the Octopus, meaning I don’t like the crowd, the atmosphere, the prices. And now I don’t like that they don’t give the musicians a single free drink. Dang, I was in the mood.
           I’ll analyze the session, since it represents a potential link to other musicians, something in desperate short supply again. I learned four of Genie’s tunes, she learned zero of mine. In that peculiarly familiar strain, she only likes certain tunes. And it is not her fault the very ones she likes happen to feature her exact brand of vocals and guitar work. She undoubtedly finds it convenient so many also have the same chord patterns and tempos.
           She runs the early week evening shows. Both her style and brand of music will condemn her to that slot. Genie is partially guilty of using the open mic to stock the stools. I pre-empted that by telling her I could give her a half-hour between 10:00 and 10:30, so I was on stage within 5 minutes of arriving. She remembers the incredible sound of our duo (she strums and sings) and wasn’t about make me wait around. The Octopus is not my scene, although I would say that about any joint that isn’t chock full of young, unattached babes.
           The show was great. Say what you want about the rest of my playing, I have perfect timing thanks to my eight grades of classical piano. There was no drummer, which was okay by me. I had to lug in my 45 pound Ampeg as their gear was indeed as crappy as she said. I doubt I’ll do a repeat for quite honestly, my performance and sound was, shall we say, significantly of a quite different caliber than the rest. She also drops chords, a very difficult affliction to cure in guitarists, and a problem always underscored by my chronometric bass lines.
           Eric’s Dodge is now behind the shop and ready for the market. An English ex-spook was in with some modem troubles. We got to chatting, he once worked with MI-6 (Military Intelligence, the British spyworks). He was on the team that shut down that huge ring of software smugglers via fake German businesses in Europe. The bad guys would install the software in West Berlin, roughly slingshot distance from East Berlin. To catch them, MI-6 used a tactic that would never work with me. They dressed up as DEC techs and showed up pretending to do routine maintenance on the systems.
           The Englishman is also a lead guitarist, but not a singer. Can’t use him. When he learned I was a bassist, he went into this two minute description about some kind of 1976 starburst finish, humbucker with Dean Markley’s and stopped when he saw none of us had any idea what he was talking about. That is strictly guitar player babble, can you see a piano player bragging about his brand of strings? He was confounded to learn I thought Mark Knopfler played for “The Kinks”. I meant “Dire Straits” but so what, that’s close enough for most people.
           To be polite, I told him it was “humbucking”, not “humbucker”, that the patent had run out in 1971, that advances in technology by then meant no pickups, even the cheapest, had any hum that needed bucking. What? You didn’t think “humbucking” was some guy’s name, did you? He also said his greatest moment was playing “Hotel California”, where he played “one part” and the other guy played the “other part”. I presume he meant people from the band “The Eagles”, who I would not know if they came along and bit me in the ass.
           At the shoe shop, we lost money today. To solve problems, Alfredo relies on experience much the same way I rely on thinking. A customer was unsatisfied with some custom work we did that cost us 12 man-hours to complete. My advice is to take in only the high-profit work: heels, toes, soles. Let customers find another shop for any type of luggage. I explained the advantages of specialization. Alfredo still likes one person to do each job start-to-finish, but a production line makes more sense. Take in what I can handle, and use the gaps in my output for any specialty work that requires his expertise. I know it is hard to turn down any customer in these times but self-employment is knowing when to say “No”.
           By the way, from Federal to Dixie, the water has been off since 6:00 PM this evening.
Well, duh, I forgot my flash drive at home. I'm allowed, the water is off again between Federal and Dixie.

Monday, September 14, 2009

September 14, 2009

           Respectfully, this is Eric’s place and his kin have asked me to list it on the Internet. It needs a lot more TLC than here despite our maintenance being considerably more demanding. For reasons best understood by bureaucrats, mobile homes are considered vehicles in Florida and you can see the rainbow of colored annual stickers near the window at center. (It is mainly foreigners who buy the stickers, most locals know the fine for no sticker is cheaper than the sticker.)
           My music set update is plodding along. Some Maroon 5 and Avril Lavigne. The bass lines, well, they are mostly retard bass (repetitive root notes), and the argument does not hold that the musicians are young and inexperienced. These are 30-somethings, not the teenagers of the early rock era. The lack of [musical] turnarounds reflects a further lack of musical imagination. I’m willing to swear some of these tunes became hits only because nothing else came along at the time. It worked for Jackson. But this music is now 32% of my list. Such gems as “Zombie” by the Tran, er pardon me, Cranberries, that’s CRANberries.
           I’ve been noticing the electric wheelchair ads on TV. No, I don’t need a wheelchair, it is the content of the offer that I find alluring. They are saying they guaranty you get the chair “at little or no cost”. Most of the testimonials seem to be from people who would not need a wheelchair if they’d simply walk around a little. Or get a bicycle. So it is not the chair they are selling. That intrigues me. They are openly ripping off the health insurance system to make such an offer. That double intrigues me. My loss of experience with the American system due to those 15 years I spent at the phone company still causes me immeasurable regrets to this day. As they say on “Mad Men”, what time isn’t it?
           Another TV program that lets the world know most Yankees got their hats on backward is “Rock Star Wives”. Have you seen that piece of work? Seriously, their wives. They got one quote right – being a rock star is an excuse to never grow up. Call me back when they have a show “Rock Star Groupies Less than 26 and Under 140 Pounds”. But Alice Cooper’s gag-me-with-a-spoon wife? Give me a break.
           Genie has invited me to an open mic or jam at the Octopus, I’ll chose the jam even though she insists I bring my own amp. (A spare PA channel works for fine.) Plus at an open mic, she always wants to play “Hotel California”, which, don’t get me wrong, is a great tune to listen to. As opposed to stomp, drink, dance, and party to. Not being upper middle class or lower upper class, the song has no messages for me. (I lower middle class but without the extraneous material possessions and accompanying debt load that the weaklings use to pretend they are better than each other.) I simply do not identify with the song and find it boring. I stay in hotels because I’m tired, no other reason, certainly not a lifestyle.
           I’ve decided against another $20 camera for the moment. Instead, I’m using a camcorder in still mode. Nothing on the shelves seems to compare well with my trusty old Argus. I’ve also learned to avoid digital cameras that don’t have a removable data disk because it is too easy to misplace the often-specialized cables required for a USB connection. So a camera is back in the picture, ha ha. The downside of using such a device just to snap jpegs is the cost, as they eat batteries.
           Several sources on the Internet are playing down the number of protesters in DC last Saturday. Places like ABC are saying there were only 70-80,000 marchers. Say what you want, I am one of the few around who knows exactly what a million looks like. I share the same questions: why was a protest of this magnitude not front-page news everywhere? Some estimates are saying the crowd was as many as two million. Yet not a peep from the major news networks. Something is disturbing about the whole coverup.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

September 13, 2009

           And what a lazy day. But isn’t that what Florida is for? Who knows how to play Pipe Dream? I do, because I wish I had been the one who invented it. Here is something unique, I believe. At least, it is the only time I’ve ever seen it. An unwinnable game. Those of you who know the rules can see that there is no way to reach the drain without automatically losing. You saw it here first.
           Intermittent rain flurries provided the excuse I needed to stay indoors with the cat, who requires 18 hours sleep per day. Almost as much as me. Sunday TV is not that bad if you avoid the crime shows. All my years of training to take Saturdays off were blunted by things to do, like Bingo. You might say as far as hobbies go, I’ve found my calling. Don’t hit me!
           So there it is, me, the cat and the coffeepot. Staying in the house all day, I think I’m beginning to have glimmerings of where other bloggists get their material. Seriously, have you read other blogs? There’s a Jamaican guy used to come in the office who writes poetry. He doesn’t seem to have a clue how the Internet works. Like a lot of no-techs, he thinks having a web page or blog is his ticket to stardom. He calls me every other month to ask why nobody reads his stuff. It’s on the Internet for the world to see, I mean, what’s wrong with all those people? And did I just say “bloggists”?
           In fact, I see journals (blogs fr’instance) as the live entertainment of the writing world. There are even parallels to music. Around fifteen people have asked me for blog advice. Like music, it is a balancing act. There is a tradeoff between how often you update and the depth of your material. Five entries a week is minimum, but choose the wrong topic and the it won’t last. It was like watching my family start a diary. Goes great for the first week. The other extreme are the blogs that are collections of random thoughts. Most of them are a little too random.
           Sure, I didn’t make it to the bookstore as planned. Not to worry, you see, if things continue as they are, I may be making up for it soon. This was a particularly bad summer yet I am not the least worried. Every shop owner in South Florida is trembling on the edge these days. The seasonal oomph has evaporated and what few tourists arrive are increasingly tight-fisted. Even the French-Canadiens keep pretty much to themselves, with their own clubs and activities. It is a hoot to listen to them sing country and pop tunes, they even have their own Karaoke words to it.
           Which brings me to music. Eddie and his wrist cast never showed up today, so do I assume he’s using the time to memorize all those lyrics? True, song words are a real task, meaning the sooner you start, the better. I don’t mind queue cards on stage, it is never me that says you can’t use a music stand. I intend to schedule the audition with the new vocalist probably Wednesday this week. You don’t have to know me to understand music pays my rent, I think many people overlook this hard fact. Music is not some passing fad for my off hours. When I have a good band going, I net around $14,500 per year, I won’t tell you how I do as a solo. But damn, I have not played regularly in three months and I’ve had a difficult time with the rent.
           The music by “Pink” went over well. It is also easy to play, they are five-minute specials. At first I was incredulous how many older types in my audience knew all this music before it hit me they all have grandchildren. I have had plans to reduce some of the weaker tunes on my list. The question is what is to replace them. Too contemporary and I have no audience. Check back regularly, I have to make a decision soon or risk missing another season.
           Here’s something. Apparently a million people protested in Washington yesterday. The press never covered it. Fox News only mentioned because nobody else did and I had to watch for close to half an hour before Fox would even mentioned the cause. You mean to tell me a million people march and it is not considered news? They were protesting government spending, but of course, we all know the real issue is the lack of legal means for the public to enforce campaign promises. Has the middle class finally learned that elected representatives do not represent anything but their own best interests? The camera footage revealed another truly disturbing aspect: the crowd was 100% white middle class, that is, the taxpayers.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

September 12, 2009

           This was the first good week since May, so why am I cooped up here? Well, Sunday brunch with Terminator 2 and a pot of Maxwell House French Roast. That’s reason enough. Just me and the cat, who is one of her avoid people modes that comes around every few months. It’s like being married. Today I get a new wristwatch. This is the brand of exciting drama everyone should enjoy before moving to Florida.
           My music lesson went well enough to day to finally assign homework. In this case, everybody is learning “Who’ll Stop The Rain”, one of Eddie’s tunes. Some of my students have never heard of Creedance. That’s fine, I’ve lost track of how many “rain” songs all those 1960s bands played. It is week four and everybody is playing popular music start to finish. One of the students was the father of one of my other students two years ago. He is my greatest promoter, since he tells the others how he didn’t get anywhere with lessons for years until he heard me teach. He is by far the best in the class. Anyone who says I’m wrong about how to play music, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
           I watched the shop this morning while duplicating a series of Herbalife discs. They were in Spanish, but I could pick up that it is for starting a business. These kinds of things really irk me, the whole Amway and generally any ventures that target work from home. I guess it is just too dependent on selling things to your friends. In my circles, that is a quick way to have no friends. Among the discs were lectures by somebody called Jim Rohn, which goes into the “philosophy” of Herbalife. So it isn’t good enough just to sell vitamin pills, the customer needs a little indoctrination as well.
           Then off to Bingo. The crowd is growing slowly. They can’t advertise since you’d need a gambling license, but we’ll see what happens when the Powerball hits a few hundred dollars. Don’t mistake me for a Bingo expert, all I know is how to play basic games where this crowd has all manner of variations. The Powerball is, with certain restrictions, the first number called on the first game. For the rest of the evening, if anyone Bingos on that particular number, they win the pot. Also, the game ends around 10:00, the crowd is fired up, and the PA system is ready to go. Are you thinking what Eddie and I are thinking?
           But Eddie can’t play for another six weeks. I have to cover the bases, and I’m inviting a singing guitarist for a jam session. I emailed him saying as soon as he learns five or more tunes off my list, I want him in to play for at least an hour. There are advantages to playing unaltered cover tunes, but I like the option for independent practice the best. If you can strum and hum along to a tune, you can probably play it in my band. Jackie and I walked up to Boston’s for a look.
           They had a rock band, a real treat. I haven’t seen a one in years, and the heavy metal variations don’t count. This was a good old classic three-piece group like I would form in an instant. Drums, bass and lead, they reminded me of the first “rock band” I ever heard. I was 13. The band was called “Purple Haze”, no less. The only other band that influenced me was called “The Hidden Sounds”. My heroes and influences have always been live performers, never canned recordings no matter how famous or talented. I still manage a smile with people who know what “album” a song comes from.
           “The Hidden Sounds” were my musical opposites. Talented, organized, best of equipment, and where I had to beg to be allowed to play music, their own mother was the band manager. Granny Demko. She took tickets at all their “dances”, although by the time I met them this era of performances was, sadly, coming to an end. Not so much because it was trite, but because most states began to drop the drinking age. Teenagers could now go to a saloon, drink and hear music, and to this day that is still where most people see live shows. True, there are concerts but they have become an expensive joke. Unless you are the Stones or BB King, both solidly from the town hall era I’m talking about, you won’t sell any front row tickets to me.
           Here’s some ancient musical history. The way a “dance” worked was the band rented the town hall and put up posters on local telephone poles. Then, they charged $1.50 per person at the door. There were always far more men than women because the local cowboys used to stand around in the back to see the girls. These are not the cowboys in the movies, but generally the ugly crowd of dropouts, rig workers and half-psychos you find in every small town. It was rare a fight didn’t break out. I don’t miss any of that part, but yes, I’ve played halls where somebody had to chop the firewood to heat the place before the dance. This goes a long way to explaining why I don’t appreciate musicians who play at the audience instead of for them.

Friday, September 11, 2009

September 11, 2009

           Since music dominates this weekday, here is a jpeg of at least one of my primary sources of entertainment data. This is the search screen of the juke box at the club. That is not my hand typing in a search for “Rain Drops Keep Fallin’ On My Head”. Me, search for that song? I can only hope it is permanently lost somewhere. That tune represents to me the point where pop music diverged from “is it any good?” to “will it sell?” Hence followed Michael Jackson…
           The first time I heard of “Raindrops”, our drummer (Pat Nuthall) was trying to sell us on it because his older brother (“who sang in a band in Houston”) loved that song. Said brother was a pathetically stereotyped greaseball right out of the ‘50s who thought “Magic Carpet Ride” (Steppenwolf) was recorded at the wrong speed and milk in plastic cartons was poisonous. Seriously, when they sung a few lines, I thought they were handing me a bad joke
           Hopefully today will have two entries, before and after my first real gig in two months. Check back later this evening. Meanwhile, I’ve pushed ahead with more of Genie’s material. It all has that characteristic of AM stations, where the music is nice, but you have to listen to it a lot before you like it. And who has time for that? None of it has the instant bite like a new CCR tune [would have today]. I remember when people phoned me from Hawaii to hurry turn on the radio because Doobie Brothers just released “Long Train Running”. And you knew it was a hit after hearing two notes.
           I have one complete set of new material for this evening, all of it from this decade, I might add. I’ll try it on the crowd but regardless, it stays part of my inventory. The important thing is that it is new and represents a 25% turnover in my music. That compares well with the original “Not Half Bad”, where I was also firmly in charge. That band was normally a trio because Robynette did not play. We went through six guitar players, each time the difficulty was them trying to take over the song list. Behaving as if everybody else’s role was providing backgrounds for their lead breaks.
           Mind you, that is also the era I learned two important things. I believe I was the first to state (and publish) that lead players are not necessary. And, it was then I learned to play bass in a way that covers up for a bad guitarist. To this day, there is still one guitar type I cannot mesh with. These are the “soloists” who over-strum behind their vocals. They have not learned that won’t work in most other settings. When a lead break arrives, their fancy rhythm suddenly drops out and they are picking single notes to a bass line. It sounds thin and reedy, yet they won’t agree to a drum machine that would at least keep the chop going because that would distract from their greatness.
           I put in a half day at the shoe shop, it’s pretty amazing some of the things we fix over there. I was late getting in because as I biked up 7th Street, I find a kid wondering in the middle of the road. My guess is between 2 and 3, and nobody in sight. I held out my hand so she would take it, but she would not say her name or point “Where’s mommy?” It happens that 7th is one of those streets deserted most of the day, so I figured she must have wondered away. I walked her up the street to see if she’d recognize anything. Finally, I was just about to dial for help and I heard a lady’s voice.
           Did you know Broward County finally made top in the nation at something? You bet, and although I may not have the figures exactly right, I’m close. Around 10,600 people had 4,550 houses foreclosed during August. Isn’t that around 5% of the all the houses in the territory? It will take around six months for those properties to begin hitting the market. Watch what that does to prices, just like I predicted five years ago. Predicted here. In writing. Yes, prices were still going up, but nobody could say when it would stop, and that is why I kept out of the market. Now low prices, I can say right away what’s low enough. Bwaaaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha. (Remember the bet I have about getting a three bedroom, three bathroom on Los Olas Blvd for $5,000.)
           Eddies got a cast on his arm for the next six weeks, that is, until October 24th. Then again, Jimbos got treated to a one-hour bass & vocals show, and it was clearly unlike anything anybody has seen before. To dispel any ideas that I had a trained audience, note that there were plenty of new faces in the crowd and they were finding the show irresistible. I need more audience microphones. The drum box that I still do not have would have made things better, as I mentioned Eddie still drops measures. I’m waiting for the box to go on sale over at Guitar Center.
           The set was CCR, John Prine and Jimmy Buffet. Present in the audience were clearly some guitar players and they were mildly astonished. I always like it when that happens. That look that changes from “it can’t be done” to “these guys are actually doing it”. There can be no doubt now that my theories work and that the bass-vocal act will form at least part of all future shows. I think it even took Eddie by surprise. There is far more to this bass show that it seems. You can’t just get up there and play the bass line, for the audience would not recognize the tune or be able to sing along like they do.