November 30, 2010

           Here’s a local picture of no significance. It’s a little photocomposition I call “Green Paint on the Pavement”, a study of Hallandale Beach Blvd, where it is illegal to ride your bicycle on the shady side of the roadway. There was a power outage in the area this morning and everything was closed which wore me down on my bicycle by 10:00 AM.
           Every now and then I have a bad day from my prescription side effects, a day when they appear in combination rather than ones or twos. So I rode the bus to the Ft. Lauderdale library. Unfortunately, it really was not day of getting much done and I lived on coffee and Raiman noodles. Guitar Eddie says, “You know, there’s really only one noodle in that package.” If you ever need a model on how to eat cheap food, contact Eddie. Altered taste perception is not a listed symptom of my pills and I don’t know why.
           It caused a craving for tea all day long, a commodity I don’t use much. Strange to want something you normally care less about. To be exact, I wanted oolong (perfumed) and the Yuppie places nearby sold only pekoe. I had to wait until I got home. Then I drank five cups one by one, meaning although I have an English teapot, I didn’t use it because there was no way of knowing how much I wanted. Blog rules I must report anything unusual, that’s it for today.

           The top news was I’ve learned that real estate auctions are considered the most risky form of property investment. Fine. I was quick to notice all the authors were real estate salesmen who warned about things that could go wrong if you didn’t buy through them, look left and cough. They implied the agent would do everything for you including crawl under the boards and check the plumbing. Theresa can tell you how thorough these people are. The second thing wide of the mark with the agent theory is that for a hundred dollars is anybody going to give a damn what is wrong? Hell, if it has four walls and a roof in that neighborhood, I’ll take it.
           But I did uncover (yes, you have to dig) that any outstanding taxes are passed on to the new owner. What I could not find out is what they can do if you just move in and don’t pay up. I know they eventually take the house, but I want to know how long is eventually. I’m no crook, but if there is a loophole, my loyalty to the system is kind of used up. I’ve been waiting for the housing market to collapse for years and that’s no lie.

           The Ft. Lauderdale library computer rooms are huge, spanning two floors. The local branches are so poor for research it is worth the hour commute up there. There is not one volume on electronics at Hallandale, but they have 174 self-help books on diabetes, dog-training and menopause. My real estate lawyer’s wife is a real estate agent and this weekend in return for setting up a wireless computer, she is going to show me how to check properties on line using her account. Says a guy like me will learn the process in an hour. Good. Don’t expect a report as that information is likely to be a guarded secret until other matters are settled.
           Who do I run into today but Enrique, the guy who sold me the mobile home on West-A. He’s got another for sale thinking he’ll get twice what it’s worth, so let him dream. I just missed a double-wide on Park (fancy) for $3,999.00. Missed it because I had no cash until a month after it sold. I was keeping tabs on that one because that park is about to have a fire sale on double-wides. They are all furnished, right down to the kitchen utensils. It is a gated community. And it’s in Hollywood.
           Matters of perception, I read some Arduino code that caused a light to blink slower as a sensor detected body heat. Took me a while to clue in why anyone would want to do that. Turns out the guy was installing the lights on his doorstep in a pumpkin on Halloween. What a ham, the kids would squeal because it only acted up when they moved further away but stop when they instinctively moved closer to see. Hey, at least I’m getting to know enough of the code to know what I don’t know.

           Here’s some history about hobbies as it affects my choice of the Arduino. Back in boy scouts, we had two different troops, the rich guys and us. While the rich were no more talented, we were always jealous of their access to raw materials. When a plank was cut wrong, we were chastised where they just threw it out and grabbed another. I wanted to make and sell polished rocks, but that would have demanded a machine and inventory so squelch that idea. Apparently, the machine would have to be left unattended for weeks on end, so around the madhouse I grew up in, triple-squelcht that idea. Have you got polished rocks in your head?
           Every year the rich got richer, their sales at the craft fare brought in much more money than ours. It could be because they were selling $30 hand-made varnished shoe boxes* while we tried to flog $1 old pill bottles of tap water (remember when they were glass and had real tops?). “He who drinks the water of the mighty Red will always return.”
           Along comes the Arduino. The Arduino is a model of no waste. Every component can be recycled indefinitely until broken or lost. Now that is a hobby. Things are galloping along with that so try to keep it in perspective that I have not yet wired even the basics. The same does not apply to the coding, my forte. The average “advanced” Arduino sketch uses 2,700 of the available 30,720 bytes or 9% of the capability. Occam’s Razor says that is due to the difficulty of typing long code and mentally juggling everything after around the fiftieth line. There will be no such barrier once I grasp the concept.
           But I have no Arduino. While I have some cash, nothing is spent until I find out what is happening with this place. Wallace is grumbling like he is ill-done-by, when in fact he is the author of every problem around here. No way did I keep it together with no help for all these years to have somebody else make a profit off my hard work. Either I’m a partner or I get paid, one of the two.
           Temp: 78.5 Press: 30.05 Humid: 94.5%.

           *[Author's note: these shoe boxes were the origin of the broken-chisel, a true story widely covered here in other years.]

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November 29, 2010

           What is the only grain taken right from the field to be cooked and eaten as is? Not wheat, for it is first processed into bread and so on. Think about it and read on.
           Here’s the sale notice for the $100 house mentioned y’day. The pundits are saying the recession is over and the market is returning. Yeah? Only five properties sold in Dania Beach last week and four were condos. (The $100 condo is nothing unusual for the past three years, but the house is significant, especially in that part of town.) Somebody spent their whole life making payments on that house and lost it, though no doubt they blame it on crooked bankers who should not have lent them the money and crooked real estate agents who should not have shown them the property.
           I will be watching the sales very closely. I had my sights on Ft. Lauderdale, but Dania Beach is fine. Pronounced “DAY-nee-uh”. This is no summer cabin, but a retirement home. I know there is more to buying these properties than walking up with a Benjamin or there would be nobody buying anything else. I’ll start looking today around ten in the morning. Of course, I’ll share here what I find but it will be a long time before I actually help anybody again.

           From the library computer, my flash drive has caught a mutation of the autorun.inf strain. It probably isn’t new but that doesn’t mean one of the dumbass people at the library even knows it when they see it. The first symptom is a new list of shortcuts which appear on your flash drive. A shortcut is a little icon with a white arrow in the lower left corner.
           Congratulations, your flash drive now has the virus and will in turn infect any computer you plug it into, so don’t plug it in until I say so. I will tell you how to get rid of it, but I’m going to assume you’ve got a functioning brain. This will be a good test for that condition. (I use the Deltacomm convention for computer commands, that is, you type exactly what is between the braces and press “enter”. You do NOT type the braces.)
           Go to a computer with a USB port and boot that computer in “safe mode with command prompt”. When the DOS menu appears, then and only then plug the flash drive into the USB port. Change to that drive and issue the command [dir /a]. You will see three files that should NOT be there. They are:

          i) autorun.inf 126 bytes
          ii) jaijaeq.exe various lengths
          iii) jaijaeq.scr various lengths

First, we delete the .scr file with the following commands
           [attrib jaijaeq.scr –r –a –s –h]
           [del jaijaeq.scr]
           check by doing a [dir /a]
           Repeat the same procedure to delete the files jaijaeq.exe, then autorun.inf.

           That’s it. For non-users, what you are doing is displaying the hidden files to see the viruses. You can’t delete them directly, first you have to turn off their “read-only” attributes. Then delete them one by one, checking at each stage to ensure it really is gone. One hundred dollars, please.

ADDENDUM
           Next there is something I’d like to add. By far, the most relaxing activity known to science and mankind is writing. Every study ever done on the subject confirms this. Writing is several times more effective than “doing nothing” in terms of relegating stress. You can confirm all this by contacting that Deaconess outfit in Boston that studies such things. What’s more, creative writing has no downsides as do other forms of relaxation (shopping and volunteering are common but both can be carried to excess). One cannot creative write to excess, I can tell you that is impossible.
           Not only do writers have 25% higher resistance to diseases, they live an average of 12 years longer than their non-writing siblings. Writers are smarter than average by 6 IQ points and very rarely suffer nervous disorders. Writing is also measurably therapeutic and all writing is “somewhat autobiographical” because the writer must know what is being written. It is also established that in emergency situations, writers are the least likely to panic.
           Writers assimilate new knowledge faster and handily beat trained experts and psychologists at character judgment. That means when a writer says you are being unreasonable you should be listening instead of talking. Relaxation experts recommend everybody write a journal. That’s interesting. They state a journal is undemanding; there is no beginning or end and no wrong way to do it. (No comment, but I suppose writing it and publishing it are different animals.) Cautionary note: it is known that mentally unstable people never go back and review what they have written, they are output mode only. Like talkers.
           A distant second for relaxation is reading, but it does not come close to the benefits of writing. Still, it should be mentioned for everybody can become good reader. Careful however, for reading has been shown to cause stress if you read the wrong material. Worst offenders are poetry and Shakespeare. I made that last bit up. To see who is paying attention.
           Here’s the trivia answer. Give up? Corn.
           Temp: 78. Press: 30.07. Humid: 93%.

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November 28, 2010

           These are side-by-side photos of the original 50cc scooter and the 150cc. I was about to trade the Taurus across for the 50cc when I learned about the $275 licensing fee. The two machines are only superficially alike. The 50cc on the left is a bit of a toy, the 150cc on the right is a real vehicle that I would drive the 33 miles to JPs for a visit. The 50cc units have trouble climbing the drawbridge ramps with two passengers.
How long has it been since I dug out my warm clothing? Fishing through my old jacket, I see I bought $17.00 worth of premium in Burlington, CO on June 24, 1999. Another $20.00 of super at Junction City, KS at 10:09 AM next day and took out $40.00 cash in O’Fallon, MO at 4:00 the same afternoon. I was really traveling. I have no recollection of those towns. The only place I remember in Kansas is Salinas because their water tower once made this blog.
           Another long session on the Internet shows that plenty of mobile homes are for sale in this area, and prices are dropping. One of the few things keeping sales low is the generally higher pad rental (usually $466.00 monthly) in the areas along Federal, Hollywood, and Hallandale. As stated, prices are dropping so I have nothing to lose playing the little waiting game around here, but the shoe is on the other foot now.

           Anybody who’s received an unemployment check will tell you the first one is spent before you get it. Knowing this five years ago I began “practicing my retirement”, so my routines are already beginning to return to normal. The new scooter, I’ve talked to Jag, and been in contact with Big Al. Jag and I are slated to jam with Ray-B the next time he is at the Walkabout, possibly as soon as next Saturday. Let me dig out Ray-B’s song list and sharpen up.
           Ray-B is an interesting musician, in that he has not quite finished paying his dues and he knows that. When he does, he will instantly team up with a bassist like me and we’ll do great. Most guitar music tends to emphasize that instrument as solo. Unless you’ve spent as much time with classic bass lines as I have, they can sound “funny” and I am not surprised when Ray-B says that. I’m betting he’ll catch on to it a lot faster than certain other people who think a bassist who wants to share the stage is hogging.

           [Author's note 2015-11-18: just my luck, as Ray-B and I approach the point of putting a duo to the test, his situation changes so that he has to go out and play solo.]

           Two more “free” video players that fail are FoxTab FLV Player and RealPlayer which say they are installs but require an Internet connection. Pieces of junk, what, am I supposed to lug my computer tower up to the library? Speaking of unreasonable, I’ve received numerous reports that people being stopped by the police are now being asked for their e-mail addresses. Spooky. When I find an honest player source, I’ll put in one of the rare links in this blog. I was looking at an Arduino operating a remote web cam. I have the video, but can’t watch it.
           Bingo was another success, keeping in perspective that the average take is only half what it was a year ago when tourists were evident in the audiences. Florida is full of people looking for a job rather than people looking to make money and that creates their own little hell. Sucky newspaper articles on their plight don’t help for these people did not heed the warning signs. Most are getting what they asked for and I’ll bet they still sit around watching talk shows instead of learning a new trade. Ninety percent of what I do on a computer didn’t exist five years ago. Some would say I’m “playing” on the thing all day long and who knows, maybe I’ll pass by them when I go out for a fancy restaurant breakfast in about a half-hour. At the bus stop, I mean.
           I’ve acquired an 1100 page book called the “All New Joy of Cooking”, and it is pre-empting my other reading. This book is extremely well written. I have the $119 hardcover version, with silk ribbon. It is the more appealing to read as it goes into the background and processing of food, including what happens to it before you buy it “fresh”. If I can’t cook fish, maybe I can cook fish cakes where most of the ingredients aren’t fish?

           All eyes are on next Wednesday, December 1, 2010. My first “pension” budget kicks in. If all goes well, I have a tentative plan to make an inaugural trip on the scooter shortly after that, maybe around the lake. I believe that trip (120 miles) will only cost $8 including stopping in town for a hot dog around noon. The entire route there and back can be done without using any freeways by taking Federal up to Lake Worth on the first leg. A whole day trip, sunup to sundown. A trip like this takes a motor scooter, a few dollars, and an open mind. I’ve got the motor scooter.

ADDENDUM

           [Author's note 2015-11-28: below is the section of material I lost track of when I needed it, that is, when JZ and I began attending auctions. What I had noticed is that when the properties actually sold for the reserve bid of $100, it was because nobody was at the auction. I was to learn later that the bank agent at the auction is considered a "nobody". He is there to discourage others from bidding. If you show up, he is authorized to bid against you up to what the bank originally wanted for the house. Auction, my eye.]

           Sunday addendum: look back far enough and you will see me following local real estate since it has been put on Internet auction. For the seventh time I am aware that a single family dwelling in this vicinity sold for $100. Look nearby for documentation, but you can take my word for it. I’ve been aware of these sales, but had no way to investigate the locations. Today I rode my bicycle eleven miles to check out this property. Soon, I want the scooter.
           This building sold for the said $100. It has 1,090 square feet and is in a fairly nice part of town, a few blocks west of Federal. It isn't the fanciest house on the street, but as long as it isn't haunted or underwater, I'll buy it in Dania. (Careful, I did not say Dania, but Dania Beach.) I've watched these market from a position where buying was hopeless, but I've also been waiting for my turn. There are probably a bunch of Catch-22s to buying these properties and my task it to find out what they are. If you must look it up, the address of the $100 house is 265 SW 6th Street, Dania Beach, Florida.
           Temp: 76.5 Press: 30.01. Humid: 100 (It happens here.) I may cease these measurements as I’ve figured out how to do the conversions in the Arduino. On the other it has been curious to match the spot readings to those given on the radio with a 10% difference.

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November 27, 2010

           This scene is at the supermarket. I counted four motor scooters and thirteen bicycles at El Presidente. Two years ago, I was the only one. I will say that the Latino community is adapting to two-wheel transport infinitely faster than the Anglos. The 150cc scooter at left is completely equipped for light A/C maintenance; you can see the oversized cargo box. If you ask me, scooters are a sign of the times.
           What’s more the authorities are right on top of this increase in bicycle usage. They’ve redefined bicycles as vehicles subject to the Uniform Traffic Control Law. This means you must ride on the left, keep off the sidewalks, have head and brake lights and don’t plan on riding home drunk on New Year’s. I doubt they dare really enforce these laws, but I don't doubt they will be used to strong-arm the bike rider who doesn't "cooperate".
           While glasses and helmets aren’t required (so far), this change in the law means you can be arrested as well as ticketed (subsection 316.003(2)). Arrest means fingerprints, DNA sample, overnight in jail and bail. Don’t say I didn’t warn you it would come to this. I know, we can all laugh when the scofflaws get caught, but let’s hear what tune you whistle when it happens to your grandchildren. Socially and career-wise, an arrest is as bad as a conviction.
           For those unfamiliar with Florida law, they removed the distinction between a scooter and a motorcycle last September. I found out about it last month. Thus, I save nothing by going less than a 50cc. The tags are the same ($275) so might as well get a 150cc that will do a sustained 65 mph. So you know, scooters of any size are not legal on the freeways, state or federal. The advantages of a bicycle are now getting limited.

           Until I’m feeling more agile, the yard work and housework are low priority. I’m reading “Obsession”. The investigation has barely begun by chapter ten. The copyright says 2007 so my guess is she murdered the father who molested the girls. That’s the theme these days: loser old women blaming sex too early and loser old men blaming sex too late.
           One thing both fools have in common is their attitude that sex is something you barter for. The problem with that mindset is negotiating the right price. You need the skills of a commodity trader to win. What unbalances them: knowing others are getting it for free. You can always tell such women, they try to catch you over parallel situations because golly, it always worked for them right up to the divorce. I had one recently try to manipulate me over a freakin’ library card. Talk about small time operators.
           Tomorrow, I’m listing the Taurus for sale on CL (Craigslist) for more than book value. So far, I’ve dealt with a dozen local bargain hunters, some of whom got me down to $350 and then never showed. I don’t like the working class, never have. Probably because it is lack of education that makes them so oafish.
           Some are undoubtedly skilled, but that is not the same as having smarts where it counts. Deep down, they are all the same. They want a copy, but they don’t have a photocopier. They want a boost, but they don’t have cables. They want a receipt but they don’t have a booklet. Or a pen. Or a table to write it on. Reminds me of the Turkish girl and her computer back in the 80s. No printer, no paper, no driver, no desk, no cables, but oh yes, she had a computer same as you.
           And, oh yes, she was ready to start a business.

           Speaking of deadbeats, it is now 4:00 PM and I’ve made $80 on the Taurus so far. I hold it for a deposit, they never show, so I keep the deposit. My target date for the scooter registration is seven more days before I use my own money. The scooter has to be ready by Xmas.
           Later, I’m past half-way with “Obsession”. If you ever need insight into how the innocent get drawn into police investigations, this book clues you in. What starts as a simple comment shows how the police use an ever widening array of databases to interrogate all manner of innocent people, often blackmailing them by threatening to look “deeper” into their past. Certain patterns are automatically tagged “bad-guy behavior”, such as not having a phone in your own name. Each of these little factors chip away at personal freedom and before long, you’ve got: Canada!

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November 26, 2010

           My decision on bingo at Buddy’s is to stop until at least I have my own transportation. The game was dependent on them helping me move the equipment and total staff support, both of which have waned over time. Mind you, that doesn’t mean I’m a stranger and I stopped y’day for Thanksgiving. This is the biggest holiday of the year in these parts. Not like other states and provinces where they treat it as a another commercialized tradition or family reunion of sorts.
           Here, there is a genuine outpouring. A rotating crowd of 40 people at Buddy’s could not begin to make a dent in the mountains of food that showed up. I’ve seen the cruise ship buffets meant to amaze and the wedding banquets to impress, but they don’t compare to an unplanned Dixie Thanksgiving. Seven kinds of pumpkin pie. I didn’t stay (was home by 7:30 PM), but I’d ballpark there was enough food left for 150 people with more donations showing up by the minute.

           Home, it was, to read my newest mystery, “Obsession” by Jonathan Kellerman (yeah, Jonathman Kellerthan). He delights with wording intended to trick the reader into assuming each new character is a man, Holy 1970s, Batman. He’s a psychologist for sure. I’m just starting but he’s already used up most of the clichés. The wild gal who was molested, her sister who hates sex, the adopted daughter. The pace is a bit uneven but ever enough to keep it going.
           Music. The new lady singer has responded, but I think I mixed things up. For some crazy reason, I thought she said she was a guitarist with vocals looking to start a band. Then I saw her song list and postulate if she could play all those tunes, she’d already be doing a solo act. Some wires got crossed here and I see from her most recent e-mails she does not have any notion of the amount of work involved or where to begin. Worse, a lot of her tunes are listenin’ music and personal faves rather than audience grabbers.
           New things on the Internet that we all just love, how about those sites that advertise a free download to install a program? But when you get back home, the install wants an Internet connection to proceed. There must be a word or term for the dismal azzholes who do that. No doubt they have a standard set of defenses why they pull that stunt, and there’s words for that, too. Think the install for RealPlayer, the software needed to play back youTube files.
           There were no library lineups y’day, so I used the extra time to look for a school that teaches me how to solder, a trade school of basic electronics. (I can solder big components, but small ones give me the slip.) Can’t find any school that will teach that one course. Same with compilers, the local schools won’t let you attend a single course without signing up for an expensive degree. They all use the government continuing ed money to print flyers of easy courses to sucker you in for an “interview” by a “counselor”. Nothing illegal but still pretty scummy.

           I had been looking for a temperature-sensing transistor when I stumbled on the pixel algorithm reported last day. I, at the same time, ‘unearthed’ something else small enough to fit on an Arduino: GPS code. The expense of a GPS isn’t the chip, it is the antennas to receive the satellite signals while bouncing around on the dash of your car. With two Arduinos [and half a brain] anyone can be in the covert surveillance business.
           How about an Arduino progress report? Sure, since you insist. It isn’t the $30 Arduino controller, but the $100 for parts I would need to test the software I’ve written to date. The photo shows an Arduino microcontroller, albeit an older version as evidenced by the serial port instead of a USB. The long black rectangle on the lower right is “the chip”. That’s where my code goes. This is the little gadget causing all the fuss.
           And my code will run, I can guarantee, as I have considerable experience processing code in my brain. Had no mainframe at home and PCs did not come along until 8 years after I started programming. I’m learning fast and Arduino is almost always initialize, setup and loop. I’ve already coded around 30 projects since April, or another way, over twice the number coded during my entire five years in financial programming college. There is a reason.
           In finance, the only input was numbers, the only output was reports. One had to be conscious of the report layouts so that non-users could read them. That is partially where and why I learned to be a good typesetter; the only effective output device was the printer. The Arduino can have many inputs, which fascinates me. Light, temperature, sound and radio waves are my reading for now. This data can be used to operate a variety of components or simply record changes.

           This is a bare beginning; consider me in Arduino nursery school. But what I’ve learned is solid. I’ve already envisioned circuits that are too much for existing (Arduino) pinouts. The most complicated circuit I’d ever touched previously was a three-way light switch in the basement hallway. By comparison, the most basic flashing LED with the Arduino is orders of magnitude more complex. It is not the circuit that makes it flash, but remote computer code. I will soon make it flash any way it possibly can without repositioning a single wire.
           What’s more, it is one thing to get a pixel to flash on a computer monitor. It is another to get an external apparatus to flash on its own when a certain condition is detected, and to do so even after the computer is disconnected. This is a first for me and I’m glad to get to this level. May I point out that while I’m learning the Arduino language, watch out once I do, for I have in this lifetime already programmed vastly more complicated (non-robotic) routines than the most advanced examples in the final chapters of the Arduino textbooks.
           Think of it as the complexity of robots finally meeting the sophistication of financial planning. My original aim was to understand robot technology and believe I could now build a basic unit similar to what you’d see at a kid’s science fair—but make no mistake what a key accomplishment that would represent for someone who started late and from scratch. I’m not putting together some store-bought kit or following a list of directions over here. How was your day?
           Mine was: Temp: 76.5. Press: 30.0 Humid. 88.

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November 25, 2010

           This is a diatom. To be more precise, it is the glass house (frustule) of a dead diatom. It turns out a lot of people did have to ask what a diatom is, although they could as easily have looked it up for themselves, know what I’m sayin’? I do not study diatom range, history, fossils, life cycle or anything about them that contains more than ten letters. Mainly, I just examine the skeletons because they are pretty.
           For my long term readers, you likely know this is the time of year when I make plans for the future and that this year is unique. You get a super blog today, covering a dozen topics, maybe more. I have the day off, and I mean truly off, the first time in eleven years which I won’t get into.
           It is also quiet compared to last year when Wallace had a crowd over. Christmas is a better bet for entertaining, though, as every place in town has a free buffet on this day. Except the casinos, where it is $12.99 as they have their own version of Thanksgiving. Ahem.
          That future is different now, significantly different. I qualify to go back to school but this time I would never have to worry about whether what I study would result in a job or career. Like a rich kid, I could just attend classes forever until some government department doesn’t dare not to hire me. I learned that disgusting trick in Canada.

           If it is one thing I don’t explain enough, it is that I have already done 99% of the things [that I enjoy] in this life that don’t cost money. The other 1% is because there are no women left who feel the same way that don’t want my soul in return. I can never give enough examples and the explanation has to be repeated because the effect wears off. Take this blog for instance. When I have no money, like the past few months, it tends toward chitchat because without money, I cannot follow new or existing projects.
           What do I mean by money? I mean the amounts of cash needed to keep life interesting beyond the fundamentals. When I’m progressing, the extra knowledge seeps into this blog, as you will find out today. Let me put a dollar figure on it, for even reading costs money for the books. Bicycling costs a little, too. This computer means a weekly trip to the laundry room to charge the batteries. What I do have is long-term cost records that show keeping my nose pointed in the right direction requires $7.35 per day. More is always nicer, but that is the minimum.
           That works out to $224 per month and I should (if all goes well) have $247. Who knows, I may get that microscope and soldering iron sooner than I planned. I get frustrated myself when I can’t relate new academic material. Said amount is less than some people spend on beer, yet it has still been a lean and hungry quarter for me. One of the worst, and I’ll admit to being smug about my situation in the past if more people will admit to being that way right now. Remember, I once made twice as much as any of you, RofR excepted.

           So where does this leisure money come from? Before, it was a job or anything I could pick up. It should not be long before my budget again allows for diversions. Finally. Hence all the extra planning and blogging you find today. The new scooter requires tags and tax, the same 6% tax I forgot to pay on the Taurus back in 1993. I was distracted being in California staying at the Torrey Pines, but forget I did, until I got towed last year. I had to borrow the $80 tax from Wallace and borrowing is something I am loathe to do.
           I’ll sell the Taurus for the new fees, which is probably the correct destination for such money. Even this sequence of events shows the gradual improvement in finances, as before I would have had to sell the car at a loss before I could buy anything new. Remember what I said about the system causing poor people to make bad decisions. Trust me, keep two-month float of cash under your mattress and you’ll be amazed how smooth your life becomes. If I’ve had a secret, that was it. And the previous six months that float was gone, gone, gone. I think we all could tell.
           It has be a long and difficult journey back to square one for me. By that I mean I am at the same position now [in many ways] as I was at 20. Broke all the time, going back to school, no car, latest girlfriend just left town, no new clothes, everybody around me giving up, no gigs, guitar player in the doldrums, no help from nobody, it is all too familiar. At least it was a solo full circle for me, not like I’m divorced and crying the blues over lost opportunities or blaming anyone else. Got that, Toots?
           Totally ironic, for I correctly used those opportunities and still wound up here. I’m surrounded by people who think they are invulnerable. They may too quickly find out a lifetime of work prepares you for nothing once a single incident wipes out your life savings. (My total loss was far, far, far over the $22,000 in my savings bank.) People only think they know enough to survive. They’ll wind up like the peasant class who “protect” themselves by never having anything to lose. Living like that is no fun. Or wasn’t fun, mom and dad.
           Now, on to my favorite activity: learning new things about facts, not people. I used the quiet time today to read up on face recognition. It was astounding how simple it works. But more intriguing (to me) was finding out how digital sensors pick out motion. Take two digital photographs a split second apart. Chances are any moving object won’t shift much in so little time. Then apply a filter that detects only those pixels which have changed. The scary part is that I was testing Arduino sketches at the time.
Why scary? Because it means that face recognition software can be put on a $12 chip. It is only 18 lines of code that does not have to “recognize” anything, it only has to match up some pixels from a file, maybe your file. The Arduino is a hobby device, dammit, but look what it can do!
           The nearby photo shows it in action but you didn’t get any of this from me. In earlier years computer searches used databases that had been built up for years. Face recognition requires a whole new database to be set up. Once that happens, imagine the cybercrime when somebody with $20 worth of equipment can track your movements all day long. Or the authorities. Or your wife/boss/enemies.

           Now the thinking part as only I can do, around here lately anyway. Okay, Zuckerberg made billions by implementing Facebook. He stole his software and I would have too had I found it lying around, but I can create. So why don’t I code a new social networking media that matches faces to personality traits? Then you could not only list your compatibility preferences, you could then start scanning for the babe that had your favorite looks to match.
           History shows us there is a stop-at-nothing demand for that combination. Find me another Reb and you can have my billions. Because with her again, in a year I’d have it all back. I could take her old photo, get a pixel map, and start fluffing through the Facebook hordes (by turning it into just another database) until I find a hit and reach for the stars. I’d give you a thousand bucks if I could do that. I’ll bet a lot of people would.
           For now, I tread along, examining Arduino code. What I’m doing is backwards, learning the code before the hardware but I think this will pay off since the code is the hard part. The past week I’ve been book-learning about sensors, specifically the methods of converting sensors of one range to controllers of a different range or frequency. How does one get a sensor that measures 110 to 220 volts down to the input range of the Arduino, 0 to 5 volts?
           And that is your trivia for today. The conversion is done by three methods: dividing, amplifying and shifting. I never knew that before. The voltage, I’ve learned, is the most common variable. Voltage is subjected to arithmetic (my wording) and I do know how to add, subtract, multiply and divide. Just you wait until the right equipment arrives.

November 24, 2010

           Here’s a carefully composed picture and a busy one. It took fifteen tries to get the bus stop sign right as moving cars sped past the palm trees with the Canuck flag framed between them. Behind is the empty Kelly’s sales lot. Maybe Canadians with credit are the only ones left buying cars?
           At any rate, the photo is thought provoking and it was pure luck I caught two vehicles, as there were either no cars, or the flag wasn’t waving. For those who don’t follow the effort, imagine this same picture without the cars and the bus sign. It is a still (photo), but you can easily imagine the vehicles doing 40 mph.
           Okay, I overpaid a little for the motorcycle, but let me tell you that was easy because it wasn’t my money. It leaves me a little broke until the first so I hope Wallace doesn’t show up before then. I finally managed to pick everything up off the floor and move the mattresses in the ensuite, but there is no way I can keep ahead of this place on my own.
           At least now I can sweep the floors, but the place is a mess, although it is a valuable mess of computer parts and televisions. I could get things shipshape in a day if I had some help with the yard. As it is, I’m good for a half-hour then need a two hour rest. Remember how Wallace had difficulty walking, but when he leaned on the shopping cart he was ahead of me? That’s how I am with the bicycle. I can ride, but not walk.

           I’m well into “Nothing Gold Can Stay” and it is a great non-mainstream tale so far, set in Alaska. The copyright says 2000 and the writer, Dana Stabenow, is over-influenced by middle-age culture, for her main characters are divorcees and widows, as if they possess top-secret knowledge lacking in the single and the married. I have identified 41 characters by chapter ten, but at least none of them are queers so far. Stabenow would not miss a chance to say so, the way she describes other encounters.
           The plot is a murder mystery with a State trooper finding corpses and knowing there is a connection without evidence. It’s got me stymied. But thank goodness the Eskimo women aren’t endlessly portrayed as selecting matching bearskins and mukluks before a trip to the outhouse. I’ve never been to Alaska yet I’m skeptical the wilderness is really dotted with as many good-looking horny women as contained in this one short story.

           There is a definite connection to the gas lantern and this extra reading. I’ve got a motorcycle outside yet I preferred to stay and read. I put some rice on the (approved indoor) gas burner and stayed with the book. This is something new and different, even considering my history of reading several hours per day. I’ve reviewed my entire past and there is no direct cause and effect. I lack the introspection to figure this out easily.
           I’m reminded, you know who just cannot cook rice? Jackie, from Jimbos. His father was in the food business, but Jackie has no knack for rice. I make it to perfection every time, but then again, I can’t cook fish. I can’t even heat it up without it crumbling and sticking to the pan. I have no idea why I’m telling you this and I’m not about to invent any little voices. It’s that I never thought that somebody couldn’t make rice and it mildly amazes me.
           Here’s the dose of trivia for today. Coin operated vending machines made their appearance in London, England. No date, but I believe it was before 1900. They dispensed postcards. Now ponder the question that if it is true automation is more efficient than humans, why do things cost more out of a vending machine than at the stop and rob?

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November 23, 2010

           Here are some luxury condos in Pompano Beach. Gated community, manicured lawns, all facilities and the sure sign of wealth: a swimming pool with nobody around it. No, wait. The sign says this is student housing for the nearby university. Student housing. Funny, I don’t remember my good old college days as being quite so comfy a fit.
           Analysis of bingo y’day is complete. I conclude that it is a small crowd loyal to each other rather than the game that makes or breaks it. Y’day, they all went to the casino. I’m having second thoughts but what I don’t have is any qualms. I’ll give it another week before pulling the pin.
           Don’t go away, here’s the exciting bicycle stats. At least we know a Jamus gets 9,000 miles on a set of gears. It now slips and skips and I have to constantly reset the shift ring. Since it costs as much to have this adjusted as new nears, it is replacement time. I have to recommend this brand to anyone who needs something that lasts. Now, just find me that in a woman. Say, that reminds me, I’m only casually watching for a bike motor any more.

           I was over at Anna’s setting up anti-virus programs. I mentioned she should have this down pat by now, but I don’t mind. Hell, if the phone company thought they could do it themselves I wouldn’t have settled into semi-retirement at age 27. She’s one of the few women my own age who I will talk to about other women. She is incredulous that it is so difficult to meet a decent woman in this town, or it seems, in this day and age. Yet I assure you it is difficult to the point of impossible.
           There was the usual discussion per looking in the wrong places or having too-high standards. Those concepts are unyieldingly rooted in the Ann Landers era where it is assumed all women were automatically good wives and all men were miscreants who needed to be reigned in and trained to be marginally acceptable husbands. Next follows divorce when women find out men don’t respond to such treatment. (The women complain he didn’t work out, but in reality he was exactly the way she found him.) Sadly, Landers also advocated that it was okay for women lie to get married. “Your past isn’t his business.” Isn’t it, now?
           My standards by and large are no different than anybody else’s. But I do admit, I have two basic requirements that no local woman can seem to meet: if you are over 30, please have your own career (read car, job, bank account, money, education, guitar, PA system, just kidding) and for Christ’s sake have an addicting personality. To those who retort, “Why would a woman with all that want a man?” I answer, “Precisely.”
           Anna is not in the dating arena so it was charming to hear that perspective. It is a double standard to consider single women over 24 as leftovers, but ignoring the truth is even ‘stupider’. I would be glad just to meet a woman that didn’t have something serious wrong with her. Another Liz Fletcher would be nice, we hung out together for 13 years through all our other relationships, then drifted apart.
           No, Internet dating has not kept up with the changes in society. You can dispel that notion right off. Like singles clubs of any stripe, the majority of members are too shallow to bother with. You hear of couples that met that way and married but it is just as amusing to watch chickens in the barnyard, as in “Are they at it again!”

           The scooter store called, and although I overpaid a little by not waiting, I now have a 150 cc scooter for the price I was going to pay for a 49cc. The tradeoff is this scooter is weatherbeaten and needs cosmetic repairs. It is completely sound mechanically and all the moving parts work perfectly. I paid $300 for it although it has 7046 miles on it and has been rolled.
           While I could have got it for $250, it is from a reputable shop as they were first to call with a bargain. These units sell new for $1,800. It will hit 70 mph, a speed more associated with a motorcycle than a scooter. Of course, an hour after I bought it, I saw the scooter of my dreams for $500, but I would not have seen it without already having one. I stopped to get the brakes set up and there it was, but too late.
           There is another rationale for the scooter. Most cities I’ve been in are not collections of self-contained urban areas. They are urban sprawls designed for motor vehicles and I was “spending” up to 32 hours per month on the bicycle just taking care of logistics. This was unproductive time, wasted time. Even with my Spartan lifestyle, one still has to grocery shop, pick up prescriptions, and get to the post office before closing.
           I’m reading a new mystery, “Nothing Gold Can Stay”. Listen to me, you writers, it is a severe imposition on people like me to be introduced to twenty people in the first twelve pages. If a person has a bit part, just call him “the postmaster”. We don’t need to memorize his name, already. A lot of books I’ve read can be identified by my list of the characters with the page they first appear. These are destined to become collector’s items, no?

           Temp: 76. Press: 30.13 Humid: 85.1

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November 22, 2010

           Face it, the new Jazz camera is a piece of junk. I wasted $30 thinking it would at least have the virtues of my earlier model. It turns out the only improvement was the time-out period (the other one would time out in 15 seconds). The rest of the camera, and it seems all budget digitals, has gone downhill. This one has focusing problems if the subject is moving in the slightest. It doesn’t just blur the moving object, but the whole picture.
           Today’s picture showed me the subject has to be immobile to take. I cannot even snap a chance photo while moving on the bicycle. However, photo buffs will notice the excellent, top-notch, world class and anything else I left out composure of my work, no doubt. See the trees framing the signs, the one to the right balancing the single pole on that side. The camera is also useless except in bright, outdoor light.
           Most photos, including today’s have to be artificially brightened later. Thus, I have no photo of a fairly novel sales display from the Pro Bass Shop. Fifty brands of hot sauce with names ranging from “Sissies” to “Colon Cleaner”. Some listed the ingredients as vinegar, salt and capsicum oil. The last in the list is often known as pepper spray.

           I developed a taste for spicy foods in Thailand during the 80s and I’m likely to try some of these concoctions, many of which are sold in old mickey bottles. The other extreme was my buddy Al Klit who says “Food shouldn’t hurt.” (Coquitlam, BC, Canada, 1998) And I think a lot of your friends have funny names, too, or at least are jokes of some kind.
           The hot sauce advertising is off beat as well. Some claim to cure the common cold and one states an old fellow mixed it in with his morning eggs and found it so hot he remembered his wife’s name. What is a mickey? It is what most of the world calls a half bottle of whiskey, that little flat curved bottle that fits in your pocket.
           The weather turned cold early, now we have a warm spell. This caused a false termite bloom. The Florida room has termites. They swarm by the thousands and die all over the place unless, like an old Texan, you know how to lure them to one spot and drown them. They emerge after any cold spell, thinking it is spring. If you are not familiar with termites, they are very slow to destroy anything so don’t believe the cartoons.
           As slow and steady wins the race, I have begun Project 32, which is now 3.97% complete. I could tell the world what it is, but experience says somebody out there would try to screw things up the instant they learned any details. Despite the fact it has nothing to do with them, they’d concoct a reason to interfere. Those people will, for the duration of Project 32, be treated like my family. That is, like slightly retarded delivery boys who have no business sticking their noses where they don’t belong. And calling everybody else in the world who doesn’t like them “pair-noyd”.

           Hint. Project 21 was counting 1,000,000 toothpicks. To even be assigned a number is a big deal. But I can tell you it has nothing to do with diatom research. Concerning that research, I point out to that my work is classified as “limited laboratory facilities” and taking stock of materials, I am currently woefully short of everything needed except to gather samples. I have tons of empty pill bottles, see? I don’t even know where the local lab supply houses are. I will probably keep separate records of the diatoms in any case, but I will print them here if enough people request it.
           Later, how about that, I already have four requests and it is still today. Again, I urge anyone who wants to contact me to use the supplied email address. I rarely publish comments except those which are basically fan mail and I delete loonies who obviously are just trying to network. Also, I do not support or associate with any news services or other blogs who have taken to quoting me out of context. The above said requests are to supply enough information to understand what I’m doing. I’ll try.
           I specifically study only diatoms found on rocks in flowing freshwater streams. I don’t do pylons, mudflats, plants or use filter nets. Separation is by oxidation (hydrochloric). There’s not much else to tell you at this point, for I just started. But I’ve always wanted the time to do this study and I aim to fail repeatedly.
           Bingo at Buddy’s was a total flop. But the substitute and fake Karaoke show I put on lasted until past 11:00 PM. It kept the crowd in place, a rumor certain to get back to management. I would have preferred a dozen more people. Not only that, I arrived back home famished and ate two days worth of food.
           Temp: 75 Press: 30.12 Humid: 90

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November 21, 2010

           For no reason, I took the train up to Boca Raton, with my famous Jamus bicycle. This would have been the next weekend trip for me in the series I was doing 21 months ago when I was interrupted. That might have been providence since from what I could find, there is nothing in Boca Raton. The station must be miles from any beachfront or tourist-friendly digs.
           I found the “El Rio Trail” and followed it southward for several miles, finally spotting a busy intersection on the eastern horizon. I pedaled over there and found a Dunkin Donuts, then asked for directions to anything interesting. The staff conferred for ten minutes, then finally agreed there wasn’t anything.
           I biked a mile further toward the Atlantic and found both Dixie Hwy and Federal Hwy, but other than a couple of strip malls, there was nothing to see. I took the river trail back and stopped for two hours at the Pro Bass Shop. That’s the standard wait between trains. They had a hot dog grill going on, so I curled up with my next Mary Higgins Clark novel, “The Anastasia Syndrome”.
           This book is another example of her later style, although I was again overwhelmed by the number of characters. I don’t meet 16 people a year who I remember and Clark had that many by page 100. Her novels were the only mysteries available last time I was at the book exchange. It is hard to tell if she is joking but she does tend to waste a lot of space making sure women give solid reasons for their wardrobe choices before they go out. She gets truly tedious on that theme.
           Yet she holds my interest and I can often get halfway through before spotting the perp. Another weak ingredient is Clark’s constant motif that her aging characters always behave like teenagers with a crush. In this case, a 54 year old politician and a 46 year old historian have the hots. Sure, it is nice when romance is there, but after you hit 30, it doesn’t exist in isolation as it once did. Clark also has an aversion to people being single.

           It is just as well I gave Jag the time off, as his father died last week from a lingering illness. Jag has not called, so I’ll wait to tell him we have a paying New Year’s Eve gig. Finally, after all those years hoping, this time we play. It will be at Jimbos, but a gig is a gig. I never met his dad so I’ll stand out of the way.
           The dude who took two weeks to haggle me down on the Taurus never showed up. He wanted that car so bad and then disappeared. I have the local scooter shop waiting for me to come up with some cash, but unless the Taurus is sold, I am on the bicycle. I am paying nothing here until I get a complete explanation from Wallace what is going on. I have the money, but it stays put, simple as that.

           I contacted Anna about a couple of lawyer referrals concerning my delayed passport application. I’ve met another gal without a birth certificate having the same trouble. I have a hospital birth record, no birth certificate was issued until 2000 and that has given me headaches with the passport department. No other departments, just that one. Must be some homeland security issue, I’d say.
           Again, I found myself under the Coleman lantern with a coffee and a book. There is an association somewhere. My recollection of the farm is crystal clear, right up to the day my father sold it for $80,000 and never gave me a single cent. I’ve pursued the idea that maybe I’m a victim of nimble advertising and recall that I did live in a bush tent one summer working the forestry crews in Montana. We had Colemans, but nobody read. They worked us like dogs and we slept every possible quiet moment. Work with me here, why would I enjoy reading more by gaslight?
           I’m not rejecting any theory. I know the light contains more natural sunlight yellow than tungsten. The lamp gives off a slight aroma of baked enamel. It also radiates heat if you are close enough. It’s bugging me, why if I lived in New York City, I supposed I’d run to a shrink. No, the connection is much shallower than where I’m looking.

           [Author’s note: I see a few people wonder why my father would give me money from the farm. I can answer that. Um, maybe because he promised, and based on the strength of that promise, I made plans that could not be reversed? I worked there for years on the pledge he would put me through university. I was too young to understand he was two-faced about that. He tricked me into the work and never intended to pay me. This is the basis of the tale that my family feasted on potatoes at $25 per pound.
           So, you never heard that story--but you are about to. One summer break while you were at the riding academy, I was forced to plant potatoes because the ones from the store cost “ten cents a pound”. When I say forced, I mean forced, under threat of brutal punishment, so I planted those potatoes when I was eight. I have no idea why but for some reason the ones I planted came back with a bumper yield. That meant forever after, every summer, I got stuck planting, hoeing, weeding and digging every year, although the miracle never repeated. Oh, yes, I continually heard about it, how I'd "lost me touch again". I was damn lucky I didn’t get slapped for that, too.
           One evening years later, I was taking an upgrade course evening school and the lecture involved historical accounting evaluations and inflation. What if my father had been required to pay me what my time was worth? Stay with me, for what price would I have stopped what I was doing and VOLUNTARILY gone to grow potatoes? What would be the cost of those potatoes had they NOT been grown by what was essentially slave labor? This is where one should would have to understand opportunity cost; the concept here is "opportunity cost". Which can be calculated and those potatoes were worth $25.26 per pound.
           That's expressed in 2010 dollars. And the accounting is accurate, and hell yes, at that time, yes, I would have gone to pick potatoes for that kind of money. Until I had $10,000 in the bank and then I'd quit and move to Texas.]

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November 20, 2010

           At first I could not figure out what these boxes were. Inside, they were divided into triangular spaces. They were empty, but on my return trip, I see they are storage for bicycles. A lot of people commute by bike these days. These are outside a parking lot near the Tri-Rail station. In Miami, somebody would steal both the bicycles and the boxes. Somebody who looks like they were not born here, I mean.
           I rode over to Dave-O’s and as I suspected, he was ill for a couple of days. The guy won’t ask for help, but then I’m guilty of that myself. He’s okay now, as I found him cleaning his Glock. Those things retail for over $800 and they are a surprisingly heavy weapon considering it is plastic. Dave-O informs me it can be fired underwater, but not why.
           He’s got an idea for a hurricane safe room. You know those container units they retire overseas as housing? Why not keep some here and frame around them when the house is built. It sounds practical but would anyone go for it? They would, I suppose, make an excellent blind for a grow operation now that marijuana possession and usage are [becoming] semi-legalized in half the country. Then again, have you seen the infra-red radar the cops are using? It even lights up the treadmarks on grass where a car has driven over it.

           To defend against this radar, one would have to either blind it with a flare or have a pre-arranged huddle of buddies who split in all directions. Why would the innocent develop tactics against this device? In the lack of guarantees that the authorities would never use it for warrantless activities, and we know there are no such guarantees.
           After a hectic hour, I got the PA system from Buddy’s to Jimbos in time for the famous Saturday bingo. Kat’s truck broke down in Ft. Lauderdale with no way to phone me. These things happen. Oh, and around twenty minutes after we called in quits last Monday, a dozen players walked in. That happens. News: the big crowd returned and was waiting for me at Jimbos, making for an excellent weekend already.
           For the first time, I recorded bingo. I’ll have to do it better another day, as I used the Jazz camera which does not like low-lighting and produces only AVIs. The special effects computer got left behind and that is a large part of the show. I may haul out the old 8mm cameras. This one-of-a-kind bingo show, now a very mature and enduring act, should leave behind some sort of record.

           I responded to an ad in Davie to start a country band. Again, I’ve given Jag a few weeks off and he understands the score, that I never rely too much on one guitarist. At least not in Florida, I don’t. Always one to ward off problems by being direct at first, I emailed the new contact a series of basic questions, such as will this be a duo, trio or what? While the music is what I already play, I got the impression of innate indecisiveness and that all too familiar “I haven’t thought about that part” behavior. I’ll bet you ten bucks it is a woman. Since I know the Hippie doesn’t live in Davie.

           [Author's note 2015-11-20: compare this with the lady guitarist I finally met in 2015 who is starting a duo in Davie? Same person? Who knows?]

           Bryne called again and the problem on his computer was Comcast. If you don’t guard against outfits like that (right AOL?) they install a browser geared to their home screen and it gradually takes over your system. Often, they have a limited anti-virus feature that is incompatible with commercial software. Dozens of scripts and apps start running automatically in the background when booted. And your system crawls along. But fixing this situation is well above of the experience level of most users.
           Today is a turning point in some ways. Once again, long-term projects are creeping back into importance. Back on the farm I learned when one is around peasants it is futile to take on anything beyond the immediate present because they will screw you up. The only meaningful accomplishments is life are those which take time and if there is one thing a lowbrow won’t stand for it is somebody [whom] they know getting ahead. Peculiarly, it does not bother them when strangers do so, only when it is somebody they know.
           Even this blog was showing signs of drudgery as I never knew one moment to the next what stunt somebody was going to pull. Now, they no longer matter. I was at the library today studying diatoms for two hours. This blog has always been written for the type of people who don’t have to ask what diatoms are or why anyone would study them. All I can say is the subject is a tad more intellectually challenging than watching over-30 dating shows on Cable Nine. Although I know at least one person who would disagree. She's a single mother, how'd you guess?
           Temp: 72 Press: 31.8 Humid: 86.5

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November 19, 2010

           This is a palm tree with a brush cut.
           I put the word out that I’m looking for a scooter and it seems there’s a few lean and hungry shops out there. My budget allows only for a used model, the real killer is the $275 fee to register the vehicle in Florida. When the recession hit, Tallahassee raised vehicle taxes. Hooray for the American way, although I can think of at least one other North American country that’s been doing that kind of thing for 94 years.
           Chasing around for the bicycle conversion motor has gotten too frustrating. Pricing is so secretive you don’t know who to believe. Worst, many stores, particularly on-line, won’t mention up front they are selling two-cycle engines, hoping to snag the sale before it gets mentioned. Used Dneprs and Urals are dropping below $6,000 and will have to keep dropping before I’ll bite. Some of that hefty price must be the novelty value, as units built in 1968 are still costly.

           I’m reading Mary H. Clark’s “Loves Music, Loves to Dance”. This was her fictional bestseller based on a television studio that has women go out on dates with men who place personals, hoping to do an expose on the ads. Except, the women start turning up dead. So far, it is one of her more inspired tales. Just me, some soup and the flickering light of my cracked mantles, the modern ones seem to last hours instead of weeks. Or it could be my memory saying the old ones lasted that long.
           More info on solar water heating. There are two basic types, one with a pump and holding tank, the other relies only on water pressure from the tap. It is a bit peculiar that all sources I’ve read sing only praises, as if everybody loves naturally heated water. We know this can’t be, so the research continues. In Florida, one does not have to worry about the pipes freezing and I saw one novel arrangement.
           The owner had build a frame in his basement and made a huge tank connected to his outdoor passive heating coils. This tank acted as heat storage. Inside the tank was a set of secondary coils that fed to his hot water tank. Thus, he had hot water all night. The water does not boil, but gets much too hot to touch. His outside coils are copper pipes soldered to a sheet of flat aluminum siding. Copper ¾” pipe costs $3 per foot these days.

           Limewire is under an injunction to stop supporting or distributing their software. Since that does not specifically state they can’t use what is already out there, I read the list of plaintiffs. Not one musician or independent studio was represented. Nope, just the big boys, namely Arista Records, Atlantic Recording, BMG Music, Capitol Records, Electra Entertainment Group, Interscope Records, LaFace Records, Motown Record Company, Priority Records, Sony Music Entertainment, UMG Recording, Virgin Records America and Warner Bros. Records. It’s Limewire vs. the Billionaires.
           My phone has been accidentally turned off intermittently since Sunday and I did not miss it. Well, not turned off, it goes into that dormant mode where I can make outgoing calls but the ringer is silent. I don’t know anything is wrong until somebody says something. Frankly, I’ve rather enjoyed the peace and quiet. My prescription sometimes gives lower back pain and I can’t lift anything. That also explains my extra time in the movies and libraries. My toothpicks are outside and I can’t even budge them.

           On the way home I stopped at Dave-O’s. His truck was there, the lights were on, his boots were by the door. But he wasn’t home. I was going to treat him to Chinese food, another thing I have not had in many years that I’m allowed. It was a perfect day for bike riding and I got in the requisite six miles. I moved so slow some kids on the sidewalk overtook me and passed ahead. Don’t think it a big deal, six miles is barely a one hour ride and only mild exercise.
           Later, Mary Clark’s book gets upgraded to excellent. I’ve read her earlier and short stories, nothing compares to the techniques she’s learned by the time she wrote this one. It is exceptional how each of the suspects has a link or motive to the crime (although I’d correctly guessed the culprit). The janitor drove a station wagon. The jeweler went to the same college. The playboy knew the first victim. In all, well done, but again, I had to keep a separate list of the twenty-plus characters.
           Temp: 73. Press: 30.15. Humid: 78%.

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November 18, 2010

           Here is the New River Hotel in Ft. Lauderdale. The early explorers were slug-brains when it came to naming things. There was no old hotel because that was the name of the river, not the building. The signs say the hotel is a museum open for business. In keeping with such Florida traditions, the building is closed up and vacant except for some furniture stored in the hallways. Those are real stone blocks carved out of the reefs before ecology was invented.
           Since I was up at 4:30 (yes, AM) I ran the new booklet printing software through the paces. Produced by some guy in Germany, it seems to work on-screen though I have not yet printed any hardcopy. Reason: a simple four pages of this blog quickly runs into a booklet of 40 pages. Despite some truly lousy directions, the program seems to work well. That is, it takes what you typed and orients and arranges the pages so that when they come off the printer it is simple to fold and staple them into a booklet.
           Now listen closely, that is 40 booklet pages, not 40 sheets of paper. The number of pages depends on the number of paper folds. For example, an eight page booklet measuring 8x5” would require just two sheets of paper. That’s 2-up printed on both sides, you can do the arithmetic. Either way, the printer selected for the test is my old Brother 420CN (for color networkable) and for that, I will need electricity.
           I’d also need $50 worth of print cartridges. For those who recall 1991, I was one of the original employees of Kinko’s and the only one on Ventura Boulevard who understood typesetting on a computer. Thus I know there is a limit to how many pages can be folded and stapled, think it is 16. My existing equipment can cut and pierce maximum ten sheets at once. Fine, since beyond that it is no longer a booklet.
           Maybe my first booklet could be writing some decent instructions for the software. For instance, he does not make it clear the displayed pages are non-editable, which confuses Adobe and Corel users. His interface is a preview only, your changes are made in the original document. This clever programmer (Walter Eckel) has caused the unlicensed trial version to print every fifth page full of his own advertising. If it prints true, I’ll send him the $20.

           Finding I must take it easy today, I typed up a materials list for a solar water heater and I’ll bike up to Home Depot this morning to get some prices. My estimate is around $200. This is a fact-finding trip only, a look-see. I discovered a lot. Plastic piping cannot be used in Florida because the water temperature in the solar well exceeds 130 degrees. (Jesus, why are we paying for heat?) Both the PVC and the jointing compound deteriorate at that hotness.
           That temperature is too hot to take a shower or bath meaning you have to turn on the cold water to get comfy. The recommended material south of the Carolinas is copper, not plastic. I have no equipment or knowledge to join this metal. The copper will heat the flowing incoming water so rapidly that the temp in the electric heater is always lower. I didn’t know any of this. Furthermore, such heat will melt regular fiberglass insulation, albeit very slowly.

           Trivia. Why do the airlines require people to wear their seatbelts while the plane is taxiing? It is not for passenger safety, but because once the plane begins to roll, the pilots have very little control until the plane gains sufficient forward speed for the ailerons and flaps to bite. During this period, any shift of weight can cause serious instability. Keep them fat ladies buckled down, for as we all know, “shift happens”.
           The following is a short series of records I’m keeping to calibrate an electronic device I am working on. Temp: 75 Press: 31 Humid: 74. You may see these recorded here over the next little period. If you want to know if it is raining or cloudy, look out the window. If you want to know if it is raining here, you don’t have enough on your mind.

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November 17, 2010

           It was going to be a day off for me and I should know better. A mechanic offered me full asking price for the Taurus. If he shows up on time, I unload it. I hope Wallace doesn’t choose today to arrive as man, there was a lot of stuff in that car. For instance, one million toothpicks. I got stuff all over the yard. It stays where it is until I get some wheels. That won’t be long, the Taurus money will get me a decent used motorcycle.
           Say goodbye to one of the most practical cars I’ve ever owned, and by far the most cost-effective. For $1,400 this vehicle was a workhorse for seven and a half years with only routine repairs and very little maintenance (since I drove the Cadillac mainly). I didn’t even know until today about the fold up child’s seat shown here, complete with seat buckles.
           That car was particularly comfortable as well. Power everything, including seats and windows. The A/C was wonderful, although definitely designed for a sedan rather than a wagon. The ending mileage was 163,197 meaning I got 108,000 miles out of it for around gas and the minor repairs mentioned. That’s one cent per mile, only the bicycle is cheaper (by 2.75 times).
           I bussed up to Ft. Lauderdale for the afternoon. The library is still half torn apart and the computer text section is now tucked behind the fiction. So I walked over to the IMAX and saw “Hubble 3D”. Unbelievable. No hint of the television-like layering. It was hard to tell where Hubble left off and the computer graphics began but the show was astonishing anyway. I recognized many of the galaxies and can verify the scenes are authentic. There was only one other customer in the theater besides myself.
           Even the wishy-washy parts about the astronauts where easily offset by excellent footage of the launches and facilities. NASA, like the US Army, thinks people actually care about the names of their gronks. The Hubble was focused on one patch of sky in the Virgo cluster. This produced a simulated 1,500,000,000,000 mile per hour trip to the star factory. That’s one and a half trillion miles per hour. The scenery is flying past your ears, this is a true effect, not just my opinion. IMAX in 3D is a must see.

           It was also nice to get in for half price. Eight dollars makes it competitive with regular cinema. The bus ticket or the parking probably work out the same, knowing Ft. Lauderdale. I was in the library researching solar hot water heat. It seems to be the simplest of the technologies. A simple box with a sheet metal backing, PVC pipe painted black and a cover to create the greenhouse effect. The unit is connected in series with your existing hot water tank and apparently heats the water to hot bath temperature.
           That would be nice, but nothing will get touched until Wallace arrives. The office came by and wants to see the ownership papers. I’ve said or done nothing to cause that, so something’s up with that. Fine, it costs me nothing to wait. However, I may build the unit whether or not it ever gets used. During this study, I found several windmill designs that use everyday materials. Let’s talk windmills for a bit.
           When used to generate electricity, they produce DC and that in itself is a problem. Not only are the generators hard to build, they need constant maintenance. DC gets weaker the longer the wiring and all appliances on each wire must have the same voltage. If the DC appliance needs more voltage it won’t work, if it needs less it will burn out. DC transformers are also tricky devices that get hot. I learned all this in college and I’m surprised the booklets of today don’t carry warnings about these conditions.
           Which brought me to the realization that I don’t know or don’t remember how DC transformers work. (Turns out later DC voltage can only be stepped-down, with the extra volts lost as heat.) All the diagrams you see with the wire windings are AC. The current is constantly moving between positive and negative peaks, causing inductance in the core. But in DC, nothing “moves” once the current reaches its single peak. And if the current doesn’t move, the iron has to.
           I may have found some software that prints booklets. It is shareware that claims to coordinate printing so that the sheets, when later folded and cut, become booklets. It is called BookPrintXP. I have not tested it yet. Again, if I could find one person to show me how to get one program to run, I would be creating this kind of software. I know how to program, I don’t know how to write programs that run on a PC. And nobody will help. The people that know either want money or to sign me up for an expensive course.
           The mechanic never showed up for the car. But I know he is serious, he’s called almost every day in the past week. Or is that passed week? Soon.

           [Author's note: during the 50 minute Hubble 3D presentation, only six minutes was actual photographs taken by the scope. The remainder of the show was that disgusting contemporary BBC-grade production full of shots of astronauts eating, dressing, or servicing the telescope. Hardly worth the adult price of $16.00.]

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