March 31, 2010

          I cannot find confirmation, but I believe this is a photo of the famous train, “City of New Orleans” in its heyday. Note the mail car in front and the passenger cars well back from the roar of the engine. Buffs may note the old style bogies and the significantly lower roadbed on the right.
          This is the second day of my zero-salt diet. This is no fun at all. You cannot imagine the physical effects. It is not certain I can do this. First of all, recognize the change amounts to breaking a habit. Salt and thirst seem to trigger each and it is extra tough to find my own thirst is due to wanting yet more salt.
          The new guy, Jack, has a sample database ready to go. All he needed was, as I said years ago, the general outline without the need to pry into what the database was for. Contrast this to Art, who said he needed to know everything before even starting. Today we import 289 biz cards and 15 sample customers, a proof of concept. The odds for failure are 9,999/10,000 but you don’t see me running for cover.
          I’ve worked a deal whereby Jack uses Computer A for free and half the profits, should there be any. Remember, the idea here is not to run the business, it is to sell it. Now at least I’ve got a working prototype. Jack uses FilemakerPro, and knows the screen modules (where I am only familiar with the tables). We are both no-nonsense people, we could only work together with each guy doing his part and no overlap. But as long as we continue to get things done twenty times faster than others, that will be fine.
          FireHow, and the writing of how-to’s. I’ve published 25 articles and made 70 cents so far. Despite deep concentration, I still have not hit upon my topic, the single topic I can churn for hundreds of postings. No doubt, it will have a recipe-like format. It has to be some popular topic that has not already been taken. Help me out here, I’ve exhausted all the easy stuff. I even published an article on how to test if your wife is cheating on you. It’s easy, she is. Seriously, go read the article, I need the clicks. Google veryatlantic™.
          At first glance, there are a core group of writers posting most of the articles. I didn’t say writing, only posting. I had planned to study how they got there, but that plan won’t work. It seems the top writers publish either said recipes or sales pitches, both of which have a fixed format. This makes it impossible to tell if they are talented at anything except working the concept. My style trounces most of the others, although the idiotic design of HTML tags does not help. It does not seem to have made much difference in my income.
          When I say bad tag design, you know what I mean. Ever tried to get on-line documents to indent the first line of each paragraph (this is the only known blog that has always had indents)? Or have you tried to put several spaces in a row, or get rid of the white space after any bold title? I’m not going anywhere near particle labs in Switzerland when they’ll hire chumps who can’t even type a letter. Berners-Lee is the Homer Simpson of the Internet industry, “Duh, lemmee put dat squiggly thing above da two right . . . um . . . there! See tol’ you, mom, one day I’s gonna use that fer somethin’.”
          In music news, there isn’t any. Big Jim calls sporadically about a project, but I’m certain he’ll do a lot of obscure Nirvanna and Stone Temple. Which means lots of untransferable extra work for me. Obscure music also tends to be dreadfully slow. No contact with Hi, which at best will reinforce the message that local music is not a get-rich proposition.
          Difficult as it was, and without being paid for the extra effort, I’ve managed to put together a financing package to keep this place operating. By June, I will have paid half as much to operate this place as Wallace paid to own it.

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March 30, 2010

           Be darned if a database dude who knows FileMakerPro didn’t walk in today. Like all programmers, he is weird, idiosyncratic, works alone and does not easily suffer fools. Finally, somebody I can work with. Admittedly, he knows FileMakerPro, but so do I. What he has is the ability to place this database on the Internet. We struck a deal that he can work for free on computer 1, including his own work, for a month or so and we’ll look at the progress. Meanwhile, here is Mickey at the entrance to the Disney store.
           I got some more lawyer disks to copy, the only money I made today. I did a lot of background downloads for new bingo music. Reading through the top 100 hits of every decade, I confess that after around 1999, I stopped recognizing the majority of groups. This is not totally just because I am no longer a teenager, or my changing taste in music. But I do not like over-produced studio music, particularly slow, sonorous ballads.
           Also, I tend to be a fan of bands or performers who make it on their own. Thus, I don’t care for groups like Lady Antebellum, since the singer is the daughter of a famous singer. I have yet to see talented people produce talented offspring of the same caliber, and my point is that there is only so much room on the charts. When people elbow their way in using their parents name or connections, it means that much less room for newcomers with better material. Maybe I’m wrong, but maybe I’m right, too.
           Another aspect I don’t care for is the techno beats. Occasionally a group like U2 can make a contribution, but for the most part, studio drum machines sound terrible. I tout the economy of a drum box on small stages. That does not apply to a studio where one could suppose there are an unlimited supply of unemployed drummers. I never was a fan of disco music for a similar reason. I found 41 of the top 100 hits of the 2000s to have disco-like beats. And when Europe produces whacked-out psychos, they go all the way.
           New directions from my cardiologist. Zero salt diet, I am to exist only the salt naturally found in foods on my new list. Crackers, canned soup, canned vegetables are all out. This apparently has to go on for three months minimum, preferably forever. And no salt substitutes. That last one doesn’t bother me after I learned that forty years ago or so lithium was being sold as a salt alternative until the FDA stepped in and banned it. Lithium, folks, is radioactive. And I have to go in for more scans. The new health bill hasn’t improved a thing for me.
           In fact, I can’t find any evidence the health bill has changed anything. Previously, the uninsured would walk into a charity hospital, and so would those who could pay but didn’t want to. Jackson Memorial downtown was little more than the private gunshot wound clinic for the local drug runners. Recently Jackson was almost shut down due to deficits in the hundreds of millions. Yet it is common knowledge in Dade County that the hospital would show a profit if they would just shut down that emergency room.

           Author's note 2015-03-30: The above passage is NOT meant to discourage anyone from a low-salt diet. I now know it just takes time. I was eventually able to reduce salt usage to nearly zero and make up for the iodine-poor American diet by learning to like raw seafood. Don'g give up, because there is no going back. Ever.

           Either way, these deficits sooner or later get passed on to the working poor. And that is what I mean that the health bill will likely change nothing. It will surely increase moral hazard, for when you take away those who simply can’t afford coverage, what’s left over would tend to be the irresponsible. Myself, I would tend to address the outrageous costs that insurance companies pay for things, like the $275 bandaid.
           Many people say doctors have to be paid more than anywhere else in the world to attract top quality practitioners. I’m not so sure. This is the same argument that industry uses to justify huge salaries to executives. In reality, it has never been put to the test. Neither does it explain why so many executives have been arrested in the past little while. I personally think very few doctors would quit if their income was cut in half tomorrow. They would still make twice as much as they could anywhere else.

           Last, while downloading, I came across a truly stupid version of the lyrics for Iko Iko. Leaning back to laugh, it brought back memories of the phone company. Have you ever talked to a room full of people so incredibly thick-in-the-head stupid that you just know they aren’t hearing what you are saying? Their level of basic education is so low, as a group they all would swear you said something you did not say. Well, same here, the person writing those lyrics didn’t have a clue what was going on and wrote what he (always a he) thought he heard. He hears not only what he wants to hear, but also what his limited brain power permits him to hear.
           I won’t get into it, but the song was written in Louisiana, not Africa. It is about a scout from one Indian tribe trying to catch a scout from another and set his flag on fire, an insult in those days. And it isn’t Jock-o-mo, it is Chock-o-mo, but when I listen to the song, it is evident the vocalist didn’t know much either. I remember my older sister and her friends singing “Jug-a-mo”, but from them it was expected. Duh, yup.

           Author's note 2015-03-30: Chock-o mo is Choctaw for "John", literally, "his name is John". Having said that here is the most true-to-roots version I can find.

March 29, 2010

           Say hello to cat-by-door. I’m terrible with names. This guy is taking in the morning near the patio. It is one of Theresa’s brood, these are total indoor cats. To date, they do not get along with Pudding-Tat, who is a loner and quite territorial. Spring is finally, as well put, “in the air”.
           There is a tornado warning out for central Broward. Good biking weather just because I must go downtown today. I will publish a variety of small how-to’s today, including items like how to catch a cheater at cribbage (indirectly telling others how to cheat), tell a planet from a star, and all the passwords to PipeDream. No, I am not the first to write these, but I am the first on FireHow and that is all I have time to be concerned with at this point.
           Okay, some rapid fire trivias. How about the origin of birth certificates? It comes from the requirement that you had to be at least 21 years old to be a knight. I can’t find any reason for that requirement. Last, did you ever wonder where that horrid baggy pants around the knees fashion came from? The hotel lobby walk by Borat. It comes from being thrown in jail, where the authorities hand-cuff the inmate and take away his belt. That is why the look is called “jailin”.
           This is fun, here is more. Did you know in 1980, the average car price was $7,575 and the prime interest rate was 21.6%. That means for around 28% you could get a car loan. Who remembers the Man from U.N.C.L.E, the "United Nations Committee for Law Enforcement"? Their enemy was T.H.R.U.S.H. What does that stand for? I finally found out. It is "Technological Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity". Wow, that is a mouthful. Today it is far easier to just say “F.B.I” and “R.C.M.P.”
           The tall skinny lady actress was in today, and by tall I mean over six foot. We talked for a while, she knows a few people in the intelligence community who may be looking for a computer type. But, and this has precedent, she thinks my personality is more suited for movie rolls. I had to explain to her that is so far off my ambitions for now that I could not consider anything unless it landed in my lap. Still, she insists, and gave me some contact names. Talent is not the issue. Look at Bob Denver, Eddie Albert and William Shatner.
           Beyond that, I scanned the air waves for a job and came up with nothing. It is a fantasy of small minds that there is always a job to be found. At some point it becomes more economical to work for yourself, the problem being that in Florida, the standards are so low you won’t make any money at it. That goes triple for construction. I’m sure something will turn up since I’m not looking for a career.
           Meanwhile, how is my writing? That means my articles for FireHow. I have 18 published, and I have earned a whopping 50 cents. I’ve also run out of topics that I specialize in. So what to do? Simple, go to other sites, find articles I can rewrite, or simply find poorly written items I can improve. The goal here is to get hits, not to reinvent the triangle. I want provocative titles, and that is something I can do. A reminder that my interim goal is one article per day, actually two articles every second day, for three months to see how much I really earn. Then decide from there.

March 28, 2010

           This is the drip bucket up at the bookstore. The ceiling was leaking and it also kept the drips away from the business management section. A little attempt at humor there, gang. I was at Borders today after a reasonably successful morning. My new prescriptions still upset my tummy and what can I say, they have clean restrooms.
           Blog rules again say I must report anything new today, and there was something. Have you noticed soy milk in the dairy case at the market? Not bad, and it would be fine on cereal. It does not have any semblance of the taste of milk, it is not a substitute for the real thing. While sporting fewer calories, it also contains salt. I sampled the regular flavor. With milk climbing toward five bucks a gallon, the price is competitive. What did you do new today?
           I managed to have a five minute convo with Hi, the singer/guitarist who may be interested in teaming up. Already, I have second thoughts. For a guy who says he has ever played in a band, he has some fixed (and wrong) ideas about practice time. Then again, I know people in town who’ve been pissing around for thirty years. While sitting around jamming may eventually work, it hardly constitutes an effective business plan. I gave him the 505 video to view my expectations of a guitar player.
           And he did say twice that he needs money. Wrong motive. You want money, go get a job. Unless you were an overnight sensation by the time you were 24, music ain’t your schtick. In case you haven’t heard, 390 people own half the wealth in the world and you are not one of them. Music is work, but it is not a job. Still, Hi gets a chance. I suspect he is not going to like the work part, something about the way he says he’s “available for practice”.
           It was perfect bike riding weather. I put in twelve miles. That gripping pain deep in my left front shoulder area is very slow at fading, again, precisely where they want to implant that defibrillator. Pain is an evolutionary thing. My brain tells me two pains at the same spot are not the way to know if anything goes wrong. There were an even dozen subspecies of humans before we came along who may not have learned this lesson and I’m not keen on personal extinction.
           It is trivia time, have I kept you waiting? You know what happens when I get into a bookstore. Did you know that penicillin was once so expensive that it was recollected in the urine of patients? Before you sputter, the recycled product was only used on horses.
           Here’s a statistic that is bound to cause misunderstanding. When the Soviets overran the concentration camps in the east, they did not actually find millions of corpses. What they found was 836,255 women’s dresses in the prison storehouses. They figured out the number of inmates by extrapolating the ratio of women in the population. But, one must consider, the Russians came from probably the only villages in Europe where women own one dress each.
           I could not find a single book on patent law that was advanced enough to teach me anything over what I already know. In that sense, patent books are like computer manuals. Instead, I found some clips about the Mayan calendar, you know, the one that says the world ends on December 21, 2012. It turn out the Mayans had three calendars instead of one, the sneaks. They used one calendar for civil events, a second for religion, and a third for history.
           So, which of the three calendars is the one that predicts the end? None of them, it is the religious calendar that simply ends on that date in the near future. The historical calendar, which is the most accurate of the lot, shows no end. It is a case of believing what you want.

March 27, 2010

           Here’s a nice Florida fixer-upper for you. I am still aghast at the incredibly high prices in this town, I’m still predicting house prices are soon going to take a huge tumble. Wipe out the mortgage class entirely, let them borrow cake. There is no one sensible person who isn’t sick of their incessant bragging for the past thirty years. This shack is sitting on the property of the water district, so my guess it is some sort of restoral project. Or the future home of their 401(k) participants.
           I was minding the shop and practicing writing short how-to’s for FireHow. It may seem like that is a big deal for a few days, but the reality is that this blog has a set of priorities. It does not seem like it because the priorities revolve so that things read more like real life. By now, I’ve read some 300 other articles in almost every category. FireHow desperately needs a filing system. Right now, it is a blog, with each existing article shunted down the list by each new addition.
           Thus, your chances of being read are around the same as in Craigslist, or next to zero unless you are in the top ten. I pondered a little over whether all the tricks that work on Craigslist would do the same, but I didn’t go there. The more prolific writers on FireHow have been members for at least ten months. The winning formula seems to be a new post every second day for a long stretch, then take it easy.
           I have not yet found my bearings, but my income has been going up 20 cents per day. Gee, if I keep that up for five years, that’s $364.80. Per day. Of course it is much too early to predict a trend. For the most part, the other writers are a dreary lot. It is the future value of such accumulations that should be the focus here. Oddly, I began writing at the age of 15, but could not pursue it.
           Writing (or any productive activity with a long-term payoff) would have had to be kept a total secret from my family. That would have been impossible, you don’t know those people. They would have cut off all support because you were wasting time. One could not have “lived” on the equivalent of 20 cents a day while building the business without their malicious interference. I was the only one of six that even learned to type. Yet it is clear a comfortable rich kid with no aptitude could easily have done it just for the spending money. See, I just explained Danielle Steele and Dean Koontz both.

           Author's note: the above is not clear. I'm explaining to the world why I did not start writing a book at an earlier age. Writing is not exactly the best career choice for those who have to put in a 40-hour week just to pay the bills. I was thinking at the time how Rowlins, the Harry Potter lady, didn't produce a thing until she got on welfare--all the proof I need that society stifles the working poor by being over-generous to the plain lazy.

           Later, I have something most strange to report. I got home mid-afternoon and required a nap. An hour later, I heard the cat (or cats) knock something over, which I ignored (for my upper left chest is still in pain). Two hours later, I awakened to find water spilled all over my computer desk and keyboard. The laws of physics state that liquid must have been in a container, yet I found no evidence of any such source.
           Bingo turned out excellent, not for the amount of money in the jar, but because the entire game went so well. The audience is trained, and the now regular tables of newcomers are plainly impressed by the show. The second foot-pedal is a boon, it makes my show seamless. And that is how I get tips—-a top-notch show. While the weekend show before rent day (next Thursday) is rarely lucrative, today was proof that at least I’m on the right track.
           As I walked in to set up my Bingo gear, I heard a massive roar from the crowd, saying I was on TV. I looked up and be damned, it was me to a tee. Some author plugging his new book which had a name like “Roots”. This was no mere resemblance, it was like seeing myself in a mirror. So you’ll know, you can write a book called “Roots” any time you like. You can copyright the book, but the law does not permit you to copyright the title. See, I’m learning. I’ll be changing the name of this blog to “Harry Potter”. Just kidding.
           Last, let me clear up another popular misconception. The Coca-Cola formula. It is not patented, nor is it a secret. Why? Because the company would have to list the formula to protect it, and besides, the patent protection would long since have expired. The fact is, modern spectral analysis can easily determine the exact ingredients, which include nutmeg, lemon juice and caramel.

           Author's note 2015-03-27: the source of the water was a puddle out on the street. Some drivers hit the speed bump hard enough to splash right up over my open transom, where Pudding-Tat was resting on the warm computer case.

March 26, 2010

           FireHow takes top billing again. I published ten articles and earned 22 cents. But, as Ben said, "What good is a newborn baby?" He was referring to people criticizing a new invention. That's Benjamin Franklin, who always insisted I call him just "Ben". Or at least he would have had we ever met. Ha ha, oldest joke in the Atlantic Southeast.
           Remind me to change my Epinion address over to my PayPal account. Those people still list my location as at the south pole. All told, I've earned almost $73 writing in the past year, that's if I don't count the word-processing done in house. I state that I don't do fiction, but most of the resumes I've seen handily qualify. The money is not the point, as I will continue to make residuals. It takes around six months of writing full time to get past the incubation period. And anyhow, that is $73 more than most people ever make at it.

           It is with great interest I follow the top people, and they are as to be expected with authors, a real mixed bag. One lady sports 148 articles on such topics as how to look "skinny" in your facebook pictures and how to apply makeup to conceal pimples. She's from San Diego. FireHow has an elaborate profile system, but I tend to base more by the nature of the articles written. I mean, all women post flattering pictures, but articles like "How to live on an army salary" or "How to induce labor at home" give me a lot more insight. Yes, those are real posted topics from FireHow.
           I see many positive references to eHow, but frankly I have very little experience writing short descriptions on doing simple tasks. I once wrote directions on how to burn a CD and the final product was eight pages long, not including graphics. Thus I'll stick with FireHow for now. I'll know I'm getting somewhere when others try to copy my style. I say "try", because believe it or not, you don't learn to write like this all in one day. Hell, must have taken me a week anyway.

           For now, the FireHow women write about cleaning tips, gardening and family, the men write about cars, business and computers. That's why I'm going to post an article about how to make your own puncture-proof bicycle tires. It's my stab at being eclectic.

           [Author's note 2017: it's likely covered elsewhere, but I gave up on FireHow for the same reason as I rejected all other advice sites--lack of quality control. Although the Internet was not designed to be dominated by idiots, it also had no built-in safeguards. The only thing most idiots would grasp is the total number of hits, which I understand. But it takes somebody like Iosef Stalin to comment that quantity has a quality of its own.
           Yes, that "Iosef", not "Josef". There is no J in the Cyrillic alphabet. Note, unlike FireHow, I did not publish 148 articles about it. Ha!]

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March 25, 2010

           Todays picture was once 12 megabytes large. I compressed it down to 135 kilobytes. Bet you can't tell the difference. Bad Bob was in to get some computer disks copied. As one of my former students, I questioned why he would need assistance for something so easy. It turns out the photos were not on a CD, but on a DVD. You can't disk copy one to the other. But why would somebody put 154 jpegs on a DVD?
           The answer has to do with the way digital cameras are marketed. Most people who own one don't have a clue what a megapixel is, but they sure want more of them. Read my lips, more pixels will not improve the appearance of your photos on a computer. It makes a difference if you are printing the photos, but is that why you got a digital camera?

           Sure enough, whoever took the pictures set it at the highest pixel setting and each file was 11 megabytes. I had to step it down to ordinary screen size and resolution. Come to think of it, a lot of people ask me how to perform this operation because it is tedious to step through the pictures one by one and resample them. So here is a mini computer lesson.
           Right-click on any picture in the folder you wish to downsize to expose the picture menu. Find "Open With" around half way down the list and see if you have MicroSoft Office Picture Manager. If so, continue and open the picture, which in turn opens the entire folder. Use your favorite method to select all the photos you want to resize. Go to the "Picture" drop menu and near the bottom you'll find the "Resize..." option, and click on it. A right-side panel opens with a variety of radio buttons. Choose "Predefined width x height" and drop that menu. The two selections you want are "Document - Large" or "Document - Small".

           Sure, these don't cover all the possibilities, but if you need a large amount of pictures brought down to a manageable size in a moment, this method works just fine.
           I was on the Internet for several hours late in the day, closely examining the posts on FireHow. It looks like this outfit will be in focus for the next short while even at the expense of being repetitious. I am seeking the most popular posts to find out how they are getting their ratings and hits. For now, the majority of the postings are kindergarten level, but FireHow still wins out over Suite 101, Remilon and a host of obscure locations that seem loathe to state how much they pay.
           I intend to post a series of test articles tomorrow. My examination of the process shows that most of the writers post in batches and tend to dominate a single topic. I take that to mean I must find a similar corner where I can do the same. Also, I will look at the profiles of the more popular authors to get a feel for the competition. Several FireHow sources state you can make good money by posting "703 articles", but I personally know of very few people who could to that and still remain interesting.

           Still, if anybody can do it, I can. The easy categories, like recipes, are gone. But then, are people who write cookbooks really authors?

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March 24, 2010

           This is the new yard spider. Can you see him at dead center. I can't. Or maybe it is a she-spider. On to business. Everybody thinks competition is good, how the market place is the great playing field that ensures the highest quality for the lowest price. But anybody who’s bought much in the past decade knows this just is not so. That playing field is not level, the referees are corrupt and the goalposts have moved. With that attitude, I began to publish on FireHow.com today.
           I signed up for PayPal, yes, I now take Visa, and went to work grinding out a few computer articles. They’re not great, but they are hands down better than the competition. This is my first foray into the on-line writing gig and I am leery of all claims. Competition “on the job” quickly degenerates into currying favor with the boss after the first person is seen to get away with it. For now, nobody knows who the boss even is. Will quality alone be enough to get myself some readership?

           This is a big question, since I have no other potential source of income for now. I am still breathless from last week, still unable to even contemplate doing anything but write. But that is better than doing nothing right now. Just me and the cat, or actually it is cats, they seem to be sniffing each other out. Wallace had a friend who shot up to 300 pounds when he worked a computer. He lost it by switching to construction. I wish I could, medically. Economically, Time says there are 34.8 construction workers for each job out there. Ouch.
           I am taking until noon to get started despite up to 11 hours of sleep every night. No more jumping out of the sack like I used to. The cat sleeps more than I do, and in stranger positions and locations. Sometimes I wake up on my side with Pudding-Tat stretched out balanced on my hip. One day, I’ll video that cat and send it in. I think my lethargy is from my new prescriptions. My head can tell if any of them contain any nitroglycerine at all. (It gives me a hangover.)

           My guitar player has disappeared. This is Hi, the singer who only knows a few chords. I did send him the big email, the one I always use to weed out the uncommitted. I doubt that swayed Hi in any way, but since then he has not been around. A few people say he hangs out at Capt. J’s, but I dislike the weekday server in there so I won’t go in.
           That server is a bad example, she serves but it is too obvious she only wants the money. If you don’t tip a dollar every drink, she will ignore you until you finally have to “interrupt” her to get her attention. Then she behaves like she’s stopped doing important things to serve you, and you owe her. It is really bad, so I don’t go in because even if I have a drink, it takes me an hour to finish it.
           Which reminds me, a new place has opened where the Blarney Stone went under a few months back. Corner of Washington and Dixie. Laura the Karaoke lady has been texting me to drop in. I did. The owner is somebody I recognize but cannot place. He’s a patron of some other bar and finally bought his own, calling it Denny’s or something like that. All the customers know me, so there is some potential for playing there.

           Now of course not having steady income always causes me to begin looking at options, often bringing back-burner plans back into focus. While it is impossible to quote all my sources, one thing I watch is the success rate of small business. I am convinced the average “new” business startup these days costs around $215,000 and most of it is still borrowed. Yet without that kind of money, too many startups are not lasting even one year.
           At this point, my observations differ from the pundits (I finally get to use that word again). One of their criteria is the “hiring rate” after 12 months, where I rate success on how few people you have to hire, that is, having to hire help means you planned things badly. Also, the statistics tend to ignore the static shop, the small business such as mine, which “keeps the wolf away from the door”. My shop was never intended to make me rich, and although it never paid as much as a job, the hours and working conditions are unquestionably excellent.
           The reporters and magazines laud the shops that constantly expand out and franchise, but I find those operations to be the exceptions. When I look around, I see thousands of shops where the owners have no plans to “go global”, yet many of them have managed to stay open for years. I’m again looking at what can be done with the existing floor space I already have. So far, no brainstorms.

           [Author's note 2015-03-24: this post leaves a lot of loose ends. The guitarist wound up in jail, the new pub is called "Buddy's" and I learned to sing there by always going on after the worst people in the house so I'd sound better. Hey, it worked for a lot of people I grew up with. The server was canned shortly thereafter. The cash startup fee mentioned ($215,000) is pure coincidence with my observation five years later this had fallen to $15,000. I did not stay with PayPal or Visa due to their repressive and intrusive policies, mentioned here years before similar complaints became common, I might add.
           And writing for dollars? Nope, that was a non-starter. It is more like writing for fractions of a penny. The only way make money at it is to pump out tons of garbage and plaster the Internet with sub-quality shlock that floats to the top of the search engines. The on-line writing trade is designed so that vast quantities of garbage pays more money than writing short, quality articles.[

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March 23, 2010

           Okay, what is this gizmo? It is PopSci’s project of the month, a pen holder made out of recycled 3.5” floppies. Only, I turned mine inside out to make it more interesting. PopSci actually went through the trouble of publishing an on-line video on how to build this thing, giving you some idea of how desperate they are. In a blatant rip-off of Makezine called "5-Minute Project", they also have a team of preppy-looking Reggie Roughshaves and a token ditzy blonde (Megan) doing slo-mo karate forms.
           It didn’t take long to complete my research on just4writers.net. They are an elusive outfit with an uninformative home page. Also, they are being flagged all over Craigslist, although it is unknown if this is for over-posting. The culminating incident for me was their unwillingness to send or let me view a sample of what they wanted. Remember, you are giving personal information to strangers on the Internet, and caution is advised. The sole plus is that just4writers.net does not use PayPal, but charges up your cash card.
           The process led me to other places, the two that stand out are Suite101.com and FireHow.com. These both use PayPal, who I dislike due to their finicky fee structures that eventually eat up a dormant account. I also dislike the idea of having to give out your name and bank account number on-line just to get paid your own money. (PayPal demands far too much information to be just a conveyor, so watch out.)
           FireHow wins out for giving samples and being straightforward about payment. They make a deposit to your PayPal account in each month your earnings top $10, otherwise they roll it over. FireHow gets flak for being new, but one is quick to notice the publications are poorly written by the unschooled. Fresh territory. My articles are all geared to create ever more clicks on my other articles.
           For example, I’ll tell you how to burn a CD with Nero, but the first instruction says if you do not have Nero installed, you have to link to another of my articles, all of which increase traffic. By examining FireHow, I suspect I could dominate a few areas. Their top posts right now number a few hundred hits, mostly on topics for nerd loosers like “How to Impress Her On A First Date”. Duh, if you have not already impressed her, what are you doing on a date? Trying to change her mind?
           [Author’s note: “looser” is not a misspell. I am the guy responsible for once making that word popular on Craigslist.]
           Now, some knowledge. I was over to see Racehorse Jack, and we got him an external DVD player, a Pioneer. Careful, these units require two direct (non-hubbed) USB ports to draw their power. The problem was, Jack has one of those MyGait Go computers for seniors. The Go browser opens on boot-up so you cannot see, or install, other programs. Or can you? Maybe, with my help.
           The OS is good old Windows XP Home Edition. The problem is, you can’t easily get at it. Here are the instructions. First, at the Go splash screen, press ctrl-esc. Note that the Go keyboard calls esc “ES”. This opens the task bar along the bottom of the screen. There are two choices only, Network Places and Printers and Faxes. Open Printers and Faxes. Look down the navigation panel, the list along the left side of the box. One of them says “Other Places”, open it if it is not already open. There you’ll find what you need, if not, that ain’t my fault. Eighty dollars, please.
Jack has never watched a DVD movie. He still has a VHS tape deck, missing the patch cables. He also has two excellent brand digital cameras but has not the habit of using them. I am the proponent of at least carrying a cheap camera with you at most times. So you can take instant pictures of your pen holder.
           Still weakened from last week, I grabbed a C++ book, the reason being the Arduino programming language is similar. The book was published in 1990 but so what, it is still code. It was a mistake. Titled “Teach Yourself… C++”, it is one of the worst written pieces of crap I’ve ever seen. It is so bad, it reads like a MicroSoft user manual, replete with undefined terms, “you're-supposed-to-knows” and “one-more-things”. Al Stevens, I want my money back. Actually, somebody gave me the book for free, and I still want my money back. And theirs, too. We can’t figure out who you are trying to impress.
           In other news, Wallace has left.

March 22, 2010

           I slowly awakened around late afternoon, ready for a stroll to the office. I see that in spite of it all, I still walk at 3.1 mph. Let me be proud of that before anyone makes it too complicated, my speed in my prime was 3.5 mph. That means my average bike ride is still over twice as fast. I’ve learned to avoid the bad patches, such as this sidewalk on the way downtown. You don’t want to hit something like this on just two wheels.
           It rained most of the day so I spent several hours researching defibrillators. I got the dates wrong, they have only been around since 1985. Further, the internal model is a combination pacemaker and defibrillator. These doctors are sparing no expense. I’m good practice for the waves of seniors about to hit them between the eyes, no doubt.
           There are two brands, St. Jude and Medtronic. Bad Bob, who may yet convince me to join the “Broken Hearts” society, reports a Medtronic model (Sprint Fidelis) was recalled. Something to do with bad wiring. The defib and battery pack are separate, connected by wires that run through a vein, pardon me, an artery. Statistics show there are around 150,000 of these implants done per year, but that only 10% ever record a life-saving incident. That’s $3 billion in sales, not bad, considering in the medical device and computer worlds, over half of that is pure profit.
           Also, always planning ahead, of the few writing jobs that respond compared to the dozens I send out, one has caught my eye. It is called just4writers, and is some sort of research outfit. (All non-responding ads are flagged as scams.) So far I cannot find any complaints and they pay by prepaid cards, as opposed to the dreaded PayPal. Nor can I find any samples of what they want. The pay is bad at less than $5 for 250 words, but it is a start. I gather they want mostly cerebral material.
           Not having anything to go on from just4writers, I reviewed a 2005 copy of the MLA (Modern Language Association) handbook. I see the Millenium copyright changes have filtered through. Mind you, I am detecting a new and extreme brand of pushiness from the publishers, and at times from the authors as well, both parties approaching a disturbing level of conceit. They are increasingly presuming even the single usage of a term as usurpation rather than simple economy over a weak point. Let me explain.
           Copyright is to protect the author from plagiarism, it is not a weapon for launching attacks. Copyright does not mean the author can compel others to research every word before it is written. Anyone should be able to occasionally use a word they’ve heard without having to worry whether it is legally protected. That goes double for when the word is used for an entirely different purpose, much like I use the word “Hippie”. But according to MLA, I should quote the original 1960s writer (Bernstein) who coined the term “hipster.” Bull tweed on that.
           The handbook makes it clear that plagiarism is rising to become a legal pursuit. It makes every work of length a candidate for prosecution. Since the day I first read a bibliography, I did not like the format nor content. You know what I mean. The author’s name first and thereafter it reads like what it is: self-glorifying advertising. Chances are you quoted the book, not the author, and who gives a damn who printed it what year or what page it is on? That should be the task of the researcher to find out.
           The sole determinant of plagiarism should be whether or not the original author lost any material sum of money from the activity. According to the new book, I regularly commit plagiarism, but since nobody loses money, my defense is “So what?” Yet, a proponent of current copyright could have a field day on the Internet. You could be sued for merely saying you agree with an author, but then failing to provide the reader with enough information to run out and buy the book. Smells fishy to me.
           By the way, I got the code for the atomic clock. I will be studying it very closely, for it is fascinating, more logical than most people. I cannot explain why this captivates me. Despite just having been read my rights by the copyright people, here is a snippet of the code. Do I need a lawyer?

           case 4:
           {
           char sign;
           if ((byte)wwvbFrame->OffSign == 2) {
           sign = '-';
           } else if ((byte)wwvbFrame->OffSign == 5) {
           sign = '+';
           } else {
           sign = '?';
           }
           sprintf(msg, "UT1 %c 0.%i", sign, (byte) wwvbFrame->OffVal);
           break;
           }

           And that exemplifies the difference between the two brands of intense curiosity present in all people, usually one or the other. This one is called scientific inquiry. The other is called gossip.

March 21, 2010

           This lonely picture is in front of the post office on Federal, just across from Gulfstream. These are seven of the chairs in a paved circle around a flagpole. You can see by the plants growing in the sand drifts underneath that I am the only person who has sat here, a vacant spot for who knows how many years. Even then, it is because this is on a shortcut to the bookstore, not exactly a beaten path to the people who live around here.
           It reminds me of P.J. O’Rourke’s philosophy of what you get when you spend other people’s money on other people, “That’s how you get Chernobyl”. I needed to get outside so I basically walked the bike the three miles over.
           The short hospital stay has thrown my ecosystem for a loop, I am six hours behind schedule in my thinking. It took me an hour to get to the bookstore, the only activity I can manage although I’m doing fine, really. There was a warm wind from the south all the way, a sure sign it will be a tortuously hot summer.
           I lost my voice at bingo last night, and I am a mess. Off balance, dozey, can’t concentrate, spots before my eyes, mumbling, nodding off. But this is Florida, so nobody noticed. The bookstore was full of babes just when I was in no condition to strike up a convo. One of them was the spirit and image of Judy, Sweet Judy Blue Eyes, I hope she didn’t catch me looking.
           For one of the first times, I found I could not concentrate enough to read. Well, I could, but why bother. I instead went through a pile of picture books. I also like PopSci at times, and they rarely publish an item without good pictures. I was surprised to learn the last “old-style” Volkswagen Beetle was built in 2003. In Mexico. Didn’t they just finish setting up that factory?
           Another thing I looked at was a jet engine with no casing. The turbine blades whip around in the air and apparently work four times better, but make too much noise. I saw a Swiss Army knife with a flash drive. According to PC magazine, 4,500 flash drives get left in pockets at the laundry each year in England, and over there, 3% of the population think Bill Gates is a comedian. (Over here, 51% merely think he is a bad joke.)
           I recognized my first Arduino. PopSci had an article about a home-made atomic clock, that is, a device which resets itself to the atomic radio signal. I glanced at the guts and sure enough, there was the Arduino. Told you I was slowly getting it. The code is downloadable, I will try to print it tomorrow for in depth analysis. Again, this type of code that interacts with the physical world is truly intriguing me.
           Also on my table besides my decaf were a book on electric bass specs and some tabs on old Jimi Hendrix lines, such as, “Yo-momma gonna be muh squeeze?”. Actually, I mean the bass lines of his music. It is all 16th notes, like some spastic on an acid rush, with at least four “x” notes per measure. X in tablature means “indistinct” note, which in my parlance is called “a mistake”. But what I really can’t figure out is the absurd prices being charged for standup electric basses. Who would pay $5,000 for something that, Oprah aside, looks so funny?
           The last thing I read was a history book. Another thing I can’t figure out is why the Wright Brothers would spend so much time and money building that airplane, only to go out and fly the stupid thing backwards.

March 20, 2010

           They’re everywhere, its Big Brother, the corporate state, it’s a conspiracy. Actually, it is a solar-powered box I pass by regularly on the way to the shop. Anybody know what it is for? It seems to be that rectangular box on posts connected to the post, which has the solar panel around nine feet up, and if you can see it, a small yagi antenna pointed at the sky. And I am fascinated by yagis although I know very little about them.

           I remained a guest of the Memorial Hospital system for most of today, they like to keep me around for observation. It is clear they don’t mind a quiet, English-speaking, well-mannered white guy who brings his own magazines and has all his records up to date. And that hospital does keep a lot of records.
           One aspect that is unusual is my rapport with the doctors. These guys don’t have time to shoot the breeze, yet often within minutes we are talking about other topics. My guess is these guys don’t get a lot of educated patients in there and a visit with me is like an official extra break. Just a guess, though, but certainly no time is wasted.
           It was another day watching “Breaking Bad”, the TV series about the chemistry professor who cooks meth. Like Doonesbury, it only makes sense once you’ve followed enough of it. For continually wallowing in sub-plots, I rate it only a B, although I would like to see the whole show now. Bored, I went over every bass line of my set list in my head several times. I often use this tactic to improve, as it is a very effective technique to deliver what the audience “remembers”.

           I found quote most interesting because the speaker was an ex-guitarist turned bassist. Antonio Fernandez, “As a guitar player, I could afford to mess up and no one noticed. The bass needs to be dead on time, feel and delivery. There is no room for error; you cannot pretend and that is a challenge. I used to think I was a pretty good guitar player, but this instrument has humbled me.”
           Interesting. When I was discharged, I did not go straight home. I headed directly for bingo, arriving just in time for one of the most successful shows yet. I called to a packed house and some lucky stiff won the powerball. That’s a fistful of money. There were plenty of new faces. The majority of the audience has been trained, so I have not had to repeat a number in months. I used a lot of phrases found during my research on British bingo styles. The show is more interactive than any other known bingo.

           What is interactive? Easy, I have special tags used to indicate what happens next, and the audience gets to respond. This is a bingo hall where you can good-naturedly yell, “Shoot the Caller”, “You Suck” and use various spritely colloquialisms and signals to express disappointment, the caller’s ancestry, or what you would like the next number to be. Oddly, there is one strange guy out there who often correctly predicts the call. It is customary for contestants who lose by a single number to flip the caller the bird. This bingo is not for everybody and we never said it was. We pause for birthdays.
           That Russian guy is still at the shoe place. All is not lost, as Bad Bob, one of my former students who originally told me about the job says, there has always been a problem keeping people. Of course, that is because the job does not pay a living wage. For all I know, this is just my annual vacation.

           Last, an item for thought. When I arrived back home, Wallace was gone, but the neighbor lady came around asking for a ride for her friend to the bus depot. That would be an 18-mile round trip to Ft. Lauderdale. I had to decline if only to set the precedent. They seem to be in constant need of rides and of course, it is always some kind of emergency. Like my family, they have these little emergencies around fifty times as often as normal. You know, the people who constantly get into jams that require exactly what you have and they don’t. Get a bicycle.
           I’m looking at the iPad and other reading devices. They are too clumsy to lug around, judging by looks. They claim thousands of titles, but how many is that after you delete the fiction and travel guides? I really need to see the list of books. These devices cost way to much for what they do – display black and white text. One model, the Sabre, is down to $200. I’ll keep looking though something tells me it will be years before they can appeal to me. Even Amazon, a Seattle company, doesn’t carry the type of books I generally read—books that contain knowledge as well as entertainment.

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Return Home
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March 19, 2010

           Here’s a rather poor shot of me giving the world the thumbs up from hospital emergency. It’s my ticker giving out, not my sense of humor or optimism. Note the streamlined bicycle haircut. One of my least favorite things is checking myself into the hospital on a Friday night. I’ve long since picked up that Florida hospitals will keep you twenty-four hours rather than just overnight. Probably policy. Or economics.
           An upper left chest pain kept me awake since Thursday morning and could no longer be put off, plus it meant I could not mind the shop for Fred on his most important motorcycle day of the year. I had to take a taxi, which I have not been in for what, ten years?
           Hospital visits are somewhat routine for me, only this time the false alarm may have produced some positive results. The chest pain turned out to be muscular (sure fooled me), but during the battery of tests, they finally caught my heart doing what I’ve been saying all along: that elusive irregular beating due to stress. Now I have four doctors agreeing that I require a defibrillator. This is a heart implant valued around $20,000 for the gadget and add another $30,000 for the procedure.
           I declined to have it done until at least another several weeks, because I have a bad cold and because I still have the chest pain. My system tells me that both these could potentially mask complications or side-effects I’d rather stay aware of. Defibrillators have been around since, what, 1970, and they have a 7 to 10 year battery life. They kickstart your heart if it decides to stop beating momentarily. This is what may be the source of my symptoms over the years.
           Essentially, it is a disk they insert into an incision near your left shoulder, then push into place with a couple for rods, tucking a small power unit in your upper chest. It is an out-patient procedure and leaves only a small scar. The only bad news is this irregular beating is what kills the majority of people with my condition. On the other hand, all four doctors have known people with defibs to live another 30 years. A total of five cardiologists want to go ahead with the defib, so who am I to disagree?
           I never take enough reading material, so I wound up again watching the in-house (hospital) cable TV for a day. I never was a fan of “Breaking Bad”, but now that I’ve seen ten or more episodes, I may watch the series. Two things put me off the series, one is the claim that the star was the best TV actor of all time, and we all know that was Gilligan. Also, the different episodes seemed to me to jump all over the place. Other than constant reruns of “Sahara” with Penelope Cruz, who is almost as good looking as the women I date when in Venezuela, I did nothing most of the day.
           Before I went in, I bothered to fire off a mess of documents and paperwork for my retirement, pension, estate and began the process of changing my will. Just so you know, there is a world of difference between some bum on welfare who lands in the hospital and gets sewn up at public expense, and different man who meticulously reads the rule book and arranges his affairs years in advance in such as manner as to qualify. Intelligent folks can tell the difference.
           Have you seen eBay’s new pitch? They have gone green without investing a thing. According to their ads, buying a second-hand wristwatch “saves” the same electricity as not running your refrigerator for 39 weeks. That is really stretching things, eBay. Next you will claim to be the nation’s second-largest recycler, right after eHarmony.
          

March 18, 2010

           Do not do the following unless you know what you are doing. Of course, all you computer geniuses out there, why you just go right ahead. There is a nasty virus called autorun.inf that is spread by flash drives. It resides on the flash drive and replicates itself on most Windows disk commands. That means when you insert a USB flash drive and double-click to open it.
           Remaining dormant for quite a while, it strikes first by creating a fake directory on the flash drive. You will notice a whole list of shortcuts that you did not create. Eventually, the virus renames all your other removable devices as “PENDRIVE” and causes a slowdown to disk access and eventually no access.
           I spent five hours trying to cure this virus, for it sails right past all known anti-virus programs. (Yes, viruses can be cured without an anti-virus program. Tell you what, why don’t you ask that whiz-kid you always brag about how this is done. Then you'll find out what a blank stare looks like.) The above photo is part of the process. The nasty file, “autorun.inf” is hidden in DOS and superhidden in Explorer, thanks MicroSoft. You can’t see it.
           Here you see me peeling back the layers, note the command “attrib –r –a –s –h *.*” which disables the hidden archive bit. You must be in command mode to use these DOS-like commands. Now, for some reason, flash drive manufacturers also won’t let you see all the files on the flash drive, but you can see how I was able to display the autorun.inf at 06:35 PM y’day, and I know the virus well, it is 348 bytes long. It is a script that calls embedded commands in your registry based on the file “hel.exe”.
           I wonder how many perfectly good flash drives have been thrown out because of this virus. I found it on every computer in the public library. The staff there were unaware that such a virus existed. They kept re-installing the opsys (operating system) only to have the computer re-infected when the next pen drive was plugged in. Anyway, now you know how to kill the virus without buying a program to do it for you. Eighty dollars, please.
           That is where I spent the remaining four hours and fifty minutes. You cannot delete, move, rename, over-format, edit or by any method known to me and mankind get rid of that file. Notice nothing else is even on my F: drive, I made backups and completely formatted this drive in DOS. I even tried a few commercial data shredders. Yet the virus reappears whenever the drive is reconnected. Thus it is hidden in some directory accessed only by the flash drive manufacturer and the virus (because it remembered I had renamed the volume “BLACKFLASH”.)
           And that is where I will focus my next level of investigation. How was your day?
           Next, my pension is underway. It involved signing a one-page form and a five minute phone call to confirm everything. That is efficiency. Those who follow this blog know that I have often said how I trusted my old union above all government and private sources. The union is strange and antiquated, but real people answer the phone on the second ring and the union is totally, totally on my side. They said my payouts could begin as soon as April 1, two weeks from now. There is one potential snag in that Washington, my home state, may require a 90-day waiting period to assure I have nothing like late child support payments and such. I do not.
           Either way, it is time to move on and let whoever will be clever. Others can then be free to mastermind their own fates. I've honored every commitment I've made and then some.

           Author's note: this use of computers to check into people's backgrounds does, I think, explain most of the resistance you get from "old people" who do not like computers. They are old enough to understand the information being gathered about them can only be used for purposes such as using a pension application for check for child support. I am on their side.
           While I do agree that people should pay their child support, I do not agree that whether they do or not is any business of their pension plan. Particularly if the pension plan was in place before they were married. And unlike those who counter-argue, I have no vested interest because I neither pay nor receive child support. It is the principle of abusing computers that I am against.
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March 17, 2010

           This was the scene in front of the office today. You can see four squad cars, there were five more. All this happened without a sound, just lots of flashing lights, so it was a takedown. If you look closely over the bicycle guy’s shoulder, you will see the perp wearing a green hospital work outfit. I have no details, but dollars to donuts, it is that “Pain Clinic” up the road again, the place they hauled the two doctors away in cuffs last year.
           The neighborhood has gone downhill since that clinic arrived. They prescribe “painkillers” to street junkies in the theory it weans them off the nasty stuff. What a joke. Note than when the cars began arriving, Mike, Fred and I were the only ones who didn’t run for cover.
           It is Pudding-Tat and I against the world. There are two ways to bitch and moan:
           1. Before you pay your bills.
           2. Afterward.
           You get two guesses what I’m stuck with, but not for much longer. It appears everyone around here thinks unless everything is totally to their liking, they do not have to pay their share. No problem, the office staff knows who has really been taking care of this place all these years. The office doesn’t care who owns what.
           I will never forgive those who directly caused me to take an early (and somewhat reduced) settlement. These people promised me they would work together for a better situation and then instantly let me down at their first opportuity. Nobody asked them to do anything special, just pay their share of the tiny bills around here for a few years at most, like they said they would. If they had done so, they would be welcomed along for a free ride in paradise. Now they will get exactly what they bargained for.
           As a recap, Plan A was to put off my retirement until late 2012 so that I would get the full amount. I already had my own place, but was struggling at times. The only, repeat only, reason I partnered up with anyone was to share expenses for the next 48 months. Nothing was clearer to Wallace and Theresa, or could have been clearer. I never agreed to be a tenant, or invited anyone to live here for free. Where I was hoping to reduce expenses, I am $2,800 worse off than if I had stayed on my own.
           Now for some good news. For although my pension has not yet kicked in, I have been very conservative in my planning over the years. That means if there are any surprises, they will tend to be in my favor. And we have a few surprises. I am not the sort to pity people who don’t do things the way I do. If I lived like they live, I would have what they have but more importantly, vice versa.
           It looks like I qualify for several pension “boosts”. I did not bother to check into these before, since they were meaningless without the “big one”. Well, it turns out my old union is now the 16th largest holder of hard currency in the entire country, with some $320 million in the war chest. Plus five credit unions backed by more cash. And in a sense, 1/20,000th of that is mine all mine. Talk about successful planning ahead! Read and weep.
           One completely unexpected surprise is that because of my old union paycheck, I qualify for 29/40ths of something called Guaranteed Income Supplement (GIS). Keep in mind none of this happens instantaneously , and in fact, once my pension kicks in, I will still require six to eight months to stabilize things and build up reserves. But make no mistake, I will be sitting pretty. As for the others, I will care about them to the same extent they cared about me. When you run out of money, you go earn more, you don't start trying to screw the other guy.

March 16, 2010

           And a fateful day it is. Looking harshly at the situation, I can see that some people relied upon to at least carry their own weight have no intention of honoring their agreements. Thus, in this changed circumstance, I take a very close look at early retirement again. Normal date (not the date I turn 65, which is still a long ways off) is 31.5 months from now, but (read slowly) the difference in payout if I wait that long has diminished to merely $128.19 per month. Less than I make at Bingo. So the question to be asked is whether I’m going to put up with petty nonsense for the next few years or take the payout now.
           Well, it is not that easy a calculation, which explains why most people don’t do it. Such as the type of people who just do not learn as time goes by. In today’s photo, you see trees planted a few years ago at most. Directly beneath the electric and telephone lines. One learns to accept this creepy, unnatural stupidity as commonplace in Florida.
           As the situation stands, I will require a few years to get back on my feet. Never forget that having money is a way of life, not a job. I have two routes I could go here. One is to keep renting and have all the trappings, the other is to begin to save to buy a house in cash.
           My leaning is the house, but that ties up an awful lot on one's money for what is basically a place to die in. I would far more likely go for another mobile home, something really nice. But I'd have to bite the bullet for a while, since in Florida, you cannot get a mortgage on mobiles.
           If I decide to go for it, that means I have around two and a half years to replace $128.19 monthly income. Can I? Let’s see, a Eurobond at 8.5% would require an investment of only $19,228.50, call it 20 grand even. Put another way, less than the $22,000 I used to keep in my savings account before my first heart attack.
           Yeah, I think I could manage that investment. I would not have to work or count on anybody and I’ve been longing for the time to get some real things done, like my live Karaoke show, publishing and riding that big old train to Chicago. Can’t do that when everyone around me is quibbling over $100 electricity bills.
           The good news is that pension money is taxed differently, and in my case amounts to almost pure spending money. Should I opt for the pension or wait? I am of the opinion I am wasting my time waiting for others to do right, but early retirement means less. My original two-year plan to “practice” for my own retirement has stretched into its sixth year and I now have no fear of old-age destitution (something a few people I know should be terrified of). It is also plain that although I cannot work full time anymore, there is no legal cap on what I can make from investments. I should start being a lot nicer to myself so that I’ll take me along for the ride.
           One of my first investments will be a holding company for that word puzzle. After months of dedicated research I am more enthused with that puzzle than ever. Strange how it takes weeks of research to patent something that took 15 minutes to invent. Either way, there is nothing like the puzzle anywhere and the patent challenge is no longer the paperwork, but rather figuring out the confusing order in which payments and such have to be made. That is another needlessly obscure area. I mean, exactly what is a “cover page to the letter for the request to the review of the application”?
           The marketplace is full of shysters. One law firm advertises they will do the patent for $1,600. But the fine print says you must reserve another $1,500 for “other fees” and pay another $600 after the patent is granted. That’s $3,700. Shysters. Well, in a short time I may never have to worry about such trivial amounts again.
           Last, let me confirm something about a trademark. There are two different versions, one looks like ™ and the other looks like ®. The first version can be used by anyone as an indication they are claiming an exclusive right, there is no fee or legal requirements. The second symbol is the exact same thing, but has been registered at the government office after a search to prove it is truly unique. Hence, Tales From The Trailer Court™.

           Author's note: 2015-03-15: In the end I opted not to take my pension early. Don't confuse retirement and pensions, they are not the same thing for anything above the working class. That is an observation, not an insult. I decided to take the middle route, of getting a few things now to enjoy my time and slowly looking for a place with owner financing. And the puzzle proved too expensive to patent, shame on you, America.
           In the end, I got a smaller place and started watching for a deal. As with most compromises, there are fewer spectacular times, for example I got a motorcycle and not a car. And I did ride the City of New Orleans, but only halfway to Chicago. Compromises.

March 15, 2010

           Now for the latest update on my patent research. I must repeat that I am appalled by how difficult it is to get a straight answer from any source, human or printed, on this topic. It is not a life and death scenario and you’d think the information would be easy to find. As I always suspected, it is a document to be filed and a fee to be paid. You think somebody would just give you the instructions. Read on, as I am becoming convinced my puzzle could be an original idea.
           I confirm that a design patent is good for 14 years, and there are no maintenance fees (as are associated with utility patents). Unlike regular patents, a design patent is not published, but is kept a secret until after it is granted. This brand of patent is very strict, no person can copy or even import anything similar, a most likeable feature. Further, it protects against similar items even if they be independently derived. As with other patents, only the owner has any claim or the right to prosecute. Now, where do I get the $346.00?
           The trivia for today is the first design patent in America. Back in 1842, somebody patented a new font. How did he know 150 years later people would figure out what a font was? I was unable to find a sample, but I’m sure it wasn’t any webdings. [Author's note: I have thoroughly searched all US Patents concerning my puzzle, including various Boolean combinations without which I do not believe it possible to adequately describe (and therefore protect) the design. Today's photo reveals how accurate my searches have been, for you can see it produced just 13 results, remarkable in itself. Of those, only two were word games.]
           That tall, skinny actress that reminds me of Antonia was in today. She is convinced her ex-boyfriend is tapping her phone, computer and car. I told if that is true, he should take me on as an apprentice, since he also seems to read her email and stalks her no matter what computer she uses. If he can do that, I want to learn how.
           Fred went home on the weekend and set the clocks back, not realizing a few others had done the same and he showed up for work in the dark at 6:00 AM this morning. I am doing some job hunting on the half-hearted side (ha ha) because I can easily make more money than any job will pay these days.
           That comes with a codicil to others that Florida is can be very, very competitive. Don’t think experience and technical knowledge alone is a guarantee, for employers would rather hire three or four dropouts and muddle through than pay you a decent rate. Florida has an infinite supply of dropouts.
           Back in time, I made what I thought a minor prediction. I wondered when the world would figure out it is cheaper to change the way one does business to match what a computer can do. It would appear that has happened by attrition. Most of the jobs out there are done “on a computer” but very few of them require any real skill.
           Today is one of those sad days where I have to get serious. That fat woman, Maria, went ballistic at the computer shop. She was asked to log off the computer for a paying customer and refused. When asked a second time she also refused, at which point she got crazy. I reached over to turn off the computer (my property), at which time she pounded my upper left chest with her fist. I was completely unprepared. It was like getting kicked by a horse. It kind of looked like it, too.
           She threw a tantrum, throwing things about, including heavy objects like scotch tape dispensers and bells, things which could cause serious injury. She caught me in the hip with a stapler Fred came out of the back but was unable to halt her insanity. She continued for at least two minutes, to the horror of my new customers. I don’t know who that woman thinks she is.
           In a sense, I am glad for she won’t be back. That behavior is intolerable. She has been a pest like this before, refusing to obey house rules. Likely she was spoiled as a child and has never gotten over it. At least she won’t be hogging my computers any more. That is one dumb broad who is going to die a lonely old lady.

March 14, 2010

           This morning found me fighting off the flu, the good news is I seem to be handling it. Years ago when I traveled more, I noticed I was less put under by such viruses. I suspect it has to do with acquiring more resistances overseas. Because let me tell you when I caught a hot-weather flu near the equator, it took three months to get over it. I biked over to Borders, whose fake chandeliers you see in today’s photo. They are cardboard cutouts. I wish I’d thought of that.
           It was Borders for six hours and nothing else. Actually, blog rules say I must report anything truly unusual and I made Chicken a la King for the first time in twenty years. Not many people know that dish was once considered a specialty. My opinion is that during wartime, the army served it so often if fell out of favor. I like it, just be warned it is not diet food.
           Mainly I was researching the economy. Big Al has called again and he is totally at the mercy of supply and demand. He knows a little about computers, but his life experience is mostly mid-management, so he is caught right where you don’t want to be. He has been searching for a proper home business for years. So you’ll know, almost 13% of the American workforce was utilized as supervisors and managers for the past 40 years, or around three times the ratio in the rest of the world.
           One question I answered was the hourly wage needed by a worker to raise a family these days. No extravagance, just the basic food, clothing, shelter, education and a down payment on their own house eventually. My parents didn’t know about anything except the first one. Turns out to be $17.30 per hour if you have medical and some retirement arrangement. If not, you’ll need $22.13 per hour. I’d hate to try living on that myself, much less supporting a family. Worse, unemployment is 16% among the ages 20-24, meaning a lot of college grads aren’t finding work.
           The real estate market is claiming the road to recovery. Really? I found all manner of average prices, ranging from $117,000 to $172,000. Who to believe? You don’t even want to look at what even the higher price will buy you in West Palm Beach, unless you don’t mind living in the ‘hood. I stick by my predictions for 2011 as the start time for some real disasters. A reminder that I also predict most of the pension money that workers think they have is already gone.
           The problem with home ownership is taxes and upkeep. When you hit 70, you have to hire help for those eaves and shingles. Several sources are beginning to point out the same as I did back in the 80s—that all the so-called retirement planners tend to make one false generalization. Their planning is based on the brazen assumption that people’s money will earn between 8% and 9% forever. I wish I knew where to get that much any more.
           Looking overseas is not the answer for most people. Those places know they can just grab your money and there is not much you can do. I’ve also heard of cases where they blackmail the depositor if they suspect the money on deposit has not been reported to the tax man. Unless I come across information that totally upsets what I’ve learned over the past five years, I stick by my experience that no amount of retirement income will be enough any more. You have to find something you can do for cash money. Then we’ll find out what most people are truly worth. People who can’t play music, call bingo, or fix a shoe, the people who wasted their lives watching television.
           I also researched e-books, those utterly overpriced readers such as the Amazon Kindle ($300). They are a good concept, but I’m not buying one until they come out of the stratosphere. My target price is $49 (because that is all they are worth to me). I’ll look again when they cost that much. The booksellers are toying with some dangerous ideas, such as selling an e-book for three weeks and then deleting it on you. I would never buy such a product, even if the content was ridiculously cheap. Nobody should keep tabs on what people read or for how long.
           As usual, a bookstore means I got lots of excellent trivia for you today. I’m sure we’ve all heard about the brilliance of the man who invented 99 cent pricing. The supposition is that people will think $999.99 is “less than a thousand” and so on. I found out the real reason: the cash register. It further explains the persistence of small coins, such as pennies, which are more of a hassle than they are worth. The reason for the 99 cents is so that the customer expects change from a dollar, and the cashier must open the register to get it.
           See how that works? The cashier cannot just pocket the dollar. The significance of the penny is that it greatly increases the likelihood of the entire transaction being recorded. The tale that it was invented by some clever salesman is totally bogus. Besides, there is no such thing as a clever salesman.