October 31, 2011

           Get ready for some big news because it might just happen. And fast, too. In spite of my disappointment with writing jobs lately, I respond to many that offer real money for short articles. That conduct led me to compose some short (50 word) blurbs for precious metals. I feel the first country to return to the gold standard will be the wealthiest in the next 50 years. Well, did the people like my ad or what! However infinitesimal the chances, I hope this one flies.
           Here is a totally chance photo. This is a segment of the still from the video y’day. That is the anestheologist I wanted to meet and that never happened. That is so sad, she seemed so lonely and wanting to meet a real man that wasn’t total pretty fluff and putting on airs. All because I don’t have perfect teeth. Isn’t that ironic? Next time I’ll aim for an orthodontist, maybe?
           After today, expect a few more pictures to appear, we have a new digital camera. It’s a retrograde version, with the 26 picture limit similar to my good old Argus that got the ball rolling. Except this is a Vivitar that extracts 600 files to your hard drive when you try to install the driver. It has no SD card, requires a cable, no flash, no LCD, and uses the batteries I just put into my tuner. But for $9, I’m in. It is asking too much of Vivitar to stamp in bold letters on the package “Batteries Not Included.” I guess they forgot. A new camera was overdue, so I rode in the rain to get it, then over to BK, then over to Fred’s for more movies. I got soaked. Let it rain for a week now, who cares.
           In fact, I couldn’t wait, so here is a snap from the new Vivitar. This is testing the low-light capability, which seems to be okay. This is my work station, where what you see here and so much else you will never see gets created. Yes, that is today’s blog on the monitor. After all these years, I’ve gone full circle back to a “better than nothing” camera. But that’s okay, there will be a break any day now.
           Still impatient, I ran the camera through its paces. The internals are identical to the old Argus, even the sequence of modes. The camera is better than the software, which amounts to interfaces to upload to every known social site. One would think people just might want to review and edit their photos first, you know, in case they don’t get them perfect the first time. Another reason I know it is Argus is the behavior of the shutter when the light gets too low. Identical. I made a whole pot of tea thinking this would take two hours instead of ten minutes.
           Later, I got a reply from the people needing the writing done. The message was simple, “Love it. Can we do more?” We certainly can since it is field I just happen to know an unusually lot about, though I won’t say here. Plus, I even enjoy writing that topic for it keeps me abreast of the latest developments which I might otherwise let lapse. I want twice what they are offering, so wait a bit until I build some dependency. I’ve reviewed their other writer’s output. Pure amateurish tripe would be a compliment for them.
           Even later. We are having difficulty arranging for a payment system agreeable to both parties. This could kill the deal.

October 30, 2011

           Here is a still from the festival y’day. The third man from the left is playing the kanun. On stage are a keyboardist, vocalist, kanunist, violinist, and you can see this one coming, a drummist. A typical Arabic tune can be ten minutes long and repetitious. And with the kanun, always in the same key. Photo by Gaby.
           I couldn’t get interested in a thing all day. Those nagging rain squalls have been circling peninsula for weeks now, never really settling into Winter. What am I supposed to do? Can’t go to the Diplomat in the rain, although after this weekend I certainly can any time I feel like it. I’ve read every good book in the house again and been through the library surplus racks so many times I’ve already got anything worthwhile.
           I’ve rigged up my good old GG DVD player, it still works fine. It has outlasted everything by Sony, Toshiba or Sharp. The odd time it rejects a disk, but I blame the disk. That’s because I’ll be watching movies again, another five day rain storm is hitting this area. Except for reading material, I’m completely stocked up. If the rain abates even an hour, I’ll hit Fred up for another 20 DVDs. War movies this time.
           For now I watched “Apaloosa”, a western with Zellweger playing herself. The theme was early Clint Eastwood, the town hires the marshal to fight the bad guys. Excellent scenery and great shots of a steam locomotive shown totally out of context, but I imagine the real things are getting to be in short supply. Totally authentic guns and the attention to historic realism was commendable. But it’s all been done.
           I’ve received new advice about the dating clubs. As figured, the inside information says they are all the same, and that it takes months to connect with even the most compatible of matches. That makes sense as the women circle the wagons. These long rainy days are getting me down, I really miss things out west, even if there are long periods of nothing. Prairie towns aren’t big on tourism on the Florida scale and you get to know all the prospects in no time. But the prospects also get to know you. Beware of dating in a small town. The first date you get may be your last unless you relocate.
           I even checked my facebook account and still cannot find one interesting thing about that app. I’d like to post a photo or two, but every time I try, it sends me off into some space cadet page for creating album covers. I even had time to browse the writing ads, I see trend that is deepening over the past year. There are more ads for writers with specialized knowledge in fields not taught in journalism school. It smells like another con, trying to pay a specialist the wages of a secretary. It’s hell out there.
           So ends my fiscal year. There was a surplus. I have my own place and it is permanent. I’m mobile again, at least on two wheels. It was one of the strangest years of my time but also the end of a long process of adjustment. What saved me was not the computer shop, the shoemaking or the callouts, but music again. And that music has changed out of all recognition. The robotics was the best new development though still far too new on the scene to make a difference.
           Around half the Frenchies have returned. The cable has new channels again. The clearest program is still that boring Stargate series with the budget aliens. Love the time trips back to 1999 when the movie sets were a lot cheaper. These back to back downpours have not been the greatest welcome for them, particularly since they like to set up lots of outdoor furniture for the duration. For the past half decade, I’ve dreamed about moving north for the summers, next month I actually start planning for it.
           Two emerging items I’d keep an eye on? The Parasite bill in Congress and the Buchanan study. Parasite is a law that allows the government to create a list of all Internet domains suspected of even mild copyright infringement. Of course once they have the list and the capability, the authorities will use it to invade privacy. Buchanan is the writer who keeps tabs on the damage to American society of giving welfare to illegals. He projects if they don’t stop, we cease to be a nation in nine years.

October 29, 2011

           The Catholic festival in Miami will be long remembered. Pardon the silence, I’ve spend a couple days down south. It was fun, but less fun if you are working there instead of just attending. Certainly, I noticed the lack of single women, so pooh-pooh to all those people who way you’ll meet a nice girl by going to church. But don’t pass on the chicken kebab, that is one thing done right, and since we had to move the bingo gear through the kitchen, we spied on the secret ingredient. The chicken is marinated in mayonnaise.
           The festival was well-attended, the bingo was called in three languages, and it is likely the success has now established a precedent. Too bad, because the 44 mile commute puts it out of my range. Mind you, it was with intense interest that dozens of tri-lingual church ladies watched how $100 worth of bingo gear can be turned into $500 in one day. They don’t need me any more. The local gaming supply store is going to be under siege by early Monday morning.
           Socially, it was a bust, although I did get introduced to a lot of happily married ladies and the belly dancing show was “rather unique”. I guess I’m remembering Layella, the belly dancer I went out with in college. Suddenly, she now seems so slim and slender. The banquet food was authentic and very well-prepared, the band had an “Oot” rhymes with “boot”, a zither-like one-key instrument played horizontally like a steel guitar. And for which even Wiki doesn’t have a listing.
           Wait, they do have a listing. It is called a “Kanoon”, or 79-string mandrel, reprinted here without permission. I got the other name from a usually unreliable source. So why didn’t I just go back and erase it? Blog rules, you know. The musician picks the strings like a harp on the right side and with his left hand taps or plucks the strings in a type of counter-point. Um, make that exceeding primitive counterpoint, but like Clapton lead breaks, maybe monotonous repetition is considered a style. By some.
           I won’t much go into the rest, as I didn’t really have a great time being there by myself. JP was always around before and we could ogle the babes or zip up the road to a club. It means little now, but there was a gorgeous single lady doctor there also by herself, and just my type. But I could see she was used to being assailed by the tacky pretty boys she seemed lonely. Even more sad, this was not a situation where I could introduce myself. And I could not get anyone else to do it for me. That part of the festival will indeed be long remembered.
           I made it back to H’wood for the Saturday show with an hour to spare. I got from South Miami to Hallandale Beach on Biscayne, hitting only two red lights. On 36th and the one you can’t avoid, on 163rd. Due to the rain, everybody including the Third Worlders had to slow up just a little, and everything ran fine. It is not expected they learned by it. Oh, and to all you players who stayed home because of the rain, in the small group that showed, a stranger easily won the $100 powerball. You snooze, you lose. There has never been a cancelled show at Jimbos since I showed up five years ago.
           Between the two shows, the weekend was the second most financially successful in my Florida musical history, let’s just say I made ten times what, on average, the Hippie paid. You have no idea what that was. Check in to see the results, it will be a good week, though far short of what I’d expect to make playing in a band again.
           Last, don’t read anything into this, but have you ever noticed some rich people are cheap in their own weird ways? Try this one. They offer you a cup of coffee, but it is served in a tea cup, which is okay, but it is really a half-serving. Now, you did get a coffee, so they are not cheap, but wait. As soon as you are served, they unplug the coffee maker, rinse it, and put in back in the cupboard. What? Who packs their coffee machine away? Ah, suppose you wanted a refill. We’d like to, but you’ll have to wait while we set the machine up again, but it’s no trouble if you are sure you want one. Double ah.
           Even Wallace would begrudgingly tell you one of the things we NEVER run out of around here is coffee. Are you sure you want to hear another song? See, I already packed my bass up in the case. But it’s no trouble if you are really sure.

October 28, 2011

           That’s me making a pot of tea. I’m reminded why I fancy playing town and not on the road. I had a half-day of chasing around over the trip this afternoon to Miami. Extra bingo cards, pack the overnight kit, which although infinitely better than working for a living, is just enough to make sure you don’t get the day entirely off either. Some people can go the beach in the afternoon when they have to make an evening appointment, but myself, I can’t relax like I should knowing I’d better keep an eye on the clock.
           This partially explains why I appear to be a morning person. If you make a big breakfast and get the work done, then it is easier to take the remainder of the day off. I’ve got to deliver the bingo gear to the auditorium by 6:00 PM, so I didn’t dare even take a siesta on this unusually warm Fall day. Or even eat because I’m invited for the festival dinner. Instead, all I had was rice with that orange Spanish “adobo” spice that alters the flavor as much as the equivalent amount of food coloring.
           Did I check my “professional” dating site? Yep, and it is a dog. I’ve never seen so many 39 year old women in one place since I left the phone company. The women are terrified to make the first move because the men are the commonest mob of commoners you’re ever going to find short of attending a political convention. They have this weird system of declaring each other “friends”, but it backfires because each person always has too few or too many. Although I did find one lady claiming a Masters degree (unconfirmed), there are no professionals at all.
           Am I using the wrong site, or are the pickings any better at a paid site? There’s no yardstick here. I know of no way to differentiate between a good service and a bad one, except of course the one that gets me some dates that aren’t leftovers would be a good one. I have the fondest memories of Thailand, it’s too bad it isn’t there anymore. No, it isn’t, and I know what I’m talking about. Maybe one day I’ll return, since Club Med can’t have polluted every shore and beach with their riff-raff clientele.
           I took Ocean Drive to Miami while still daylight. The tourists are back, but the nicer spots are just a little too far to drive from here by scooter. That means around 15 miles. We have a beach here but it draws a far older crowd. The action, as it were, appears to have shifted north from Miami Beach to the hotel areas with beaches that cater to their own clientele. Miami Beach proper is almost exclusively confused weirdos.

October 27, 2011

           Here we go with another attempt of the Feds to popularize the two-dollar bill. How many times so far have we seen that in a lifetime? These crisp brand new bills are being given out as change at pharmacies and always draw funny looks when you try to spend them elsewhere.
           The BMW. Approximately an hour after I mentioned it, the airwaves were flooded with warnings, including mine. Upon enlarging the picture, about four people besides myself spotted that is was a fake. It is a copy, albeit a very early 1960 copy and difficult to detect. However, I may contact the person concerning the price after this revelation.
           How do you get a rock wannabe to play country? O’Rourke used to quote a tale about Mao getting a cat to eat a hot pepper. His Minister said to pry open the cat’s mouth and force it to bite the pepper. Mao said no, that is force and the cat should bite the pepper willingly. The General said to wrap the pepper in a nice juicy piece of fish and the cat would bite it. No again, Mao explained that is coercion and the cat must be willing. So they asked how. Mao said shove the hot pepper up the cat’s ass. Then he would gladly bite it.
           St. Augustine is still in the picture. I could book in advance but I’ve been stung on that before, right Microtel? By nefarious means, I requested 8 rooms during the week of my projected stay and they had that many available. So I may just show up and offer cash. Then I won’t be barraged by Internet advertising in the interim.
           Talk about impressive, a new food store has taken over the old dollar store premises at the corner of Dixie and Sheridan. It’s like upping your food budget 50% but stay out of the meat department. For pantry goods, it’s mini-paradise. The selection is huge if you don’t mind under-advertised brands. Cheapest food item: cream of mushroom soup at 57 cents a can, half the price at Publix. I’ll have to stock up.
           I ran into Jack the programmer at the library. He’s got that condition where his fingertips and earlobes go numb, but this time it was more than serious. The guy belongs in the hospital. He reports going to Social Security and experiencing the same thing I did—being the only white male in the room. They declined him, so I gave him the number of my lawyer.
           Things are ready for my big overnight in Miami. I’ll be packing up the scooter tomorrow for the run down Ocean Avenue. I’ve got the blueprints for an anti-dog barking device, the one that emits a painful ultrasonic beam whenever it detects barking. They retail for $60 and I can build one for 10%. Except I’ll connect it to a real amplifier. No barking, folks. Not between certain hours. Not never. Are we clear on that? Others may like to take an afternoon nap and you have no right to interfere with that. We do not share your pet’s behavior.
           Let me tell you the good news. The Karaoke show was giving away free DVD prizes again, so I popped over at 8:30 PM. In the past year, my singing has evolved to where I can somewhat imitate my favorite vocalists. I do a little Johnny Cash and such. But tonight, the mic was turned low so I had to really belt it out to get the proper balances. Not only did my voice not crack, I found it exhilarating, and so did the audience. I’m trying to say I found belting it out to be no more difficult than imitating another kind of singer. It was a show-stopper. Remind me to follow up on that.
           Hammer, the new guitar player, has been in touch. Kept saying he didn’t get my e-mail until I suggested he check his junk folder. If he’s really been playing for thirty years, this could be a new era in this town. It’s been a blues-rock wasteland since 1970 with droves of guitarists inculcated with the same mind-set. “Yew, country. I don’t do that.” In fact, the majority don’t do nothing at all because of that attitude.
           I’ve sent the Hammer a small list of tunes I can do as of today. I’ll be watching very closely for his reaction, since it is easy but amateurish to pre-judge a list without hearing the arrangements. And I know it is difficult to imagine my show without hearing it live. It’s 90% how it is presented, not how it is played. He has not yet stated anything about his own list.

October 26, 2011

           Lookie what I found. A 1941 BMW sidecar in as perfect condition as you’re going to find after 70 years. And not too far from here. The guy wants more than I’ll pay but you don’t see something like this every decade. He would have to consent to it being totally checked out by my people. This is not a Dnepr or Ural knock off from the Ukraine. This is the real deal.
           So, how’s the guitar practice happening? My co-learner seems to have run out of steam after a week. She took lessons and has been sold the concept of playing heavy guitar licks to old standards. They didn’t tell her she’ll need a backup band or studio to perform that stuff. I carried on and wasted my fingertips, something all guitarists will tell you. It doesn’t make them good players, don’t ever confuse the two. (Bass playing does not shred your fingertips.)
           The challenge is to find an adequate way to report progress, so let me come up with a definition that fits me. I am not learning guitar in isolation, rather only as accompaniment to my singing. I am “custom learning” each strum by what the original music suggests to me as a complement to the vocals, a durable holdover from being a bassist. Therefore, progress is to be measured by the number of songs I would go out and play at an open mic right now. That number is 9, with another 13 not too far off. The goal is 32.
           Being the untalented sort, sad but true, I have to find particular tunes that match my skill level. Each note and measure has to be memorized, since I can’t read guitar music or tabs. At the same time, I now recognize so many other players who never admit to this limitation because they do consider themselves talented. That is an interesting turn of events. I realized it before, just not the degree to which it applies. Um, let me rephrase that. I have talent on no instrument other than the electric bass.
           How do they do it? The Canadians began arriving the same day the weather turned. The prime spot next door is taken by an older motor home or a brand I’ve never seen before. Unsurpassed scooter weather found me gathering the final bingo items which I regretfully left behind when I had to move on such short notice in March. That situation will long be remembered. As predicted, a complete workable bingo setup including consumables runs around the $85 mark with incredible ROI.
           The most expensive item is the outlay for the daubers which happily last a very long time. What’s concerning me is the mounting mileage on the scooter. It was not made or intended to keep up with a car. It must be considered for replacement while it is still shines and runs perfectly. I like it, but it has served its purpose and is now inadequate for my full needs and my improved endurance. I truly miss driving a car but not until I get the okay which could be never.
           The dating club. I’ve finally got a working ad that specifies the age range that interests me, but I’m getting replies from women far too young. I can’t date a 22 year old again. The average age of the writers is 27, well below what I requested. Did I err in stating I was a musician? No, because my age is one of the first items listed in the profile. Even allowing that entertainers generally have delayed signs of aging, my days of romping are over. But nor does that mean I’m ready to play dead.
           A troop of the regular deadbeats made a terrible stink about my wanting a woman not less than 12 years my junior. That number was based on the average age of my dates in the previous 24 years. I’m not placing any blame, but it is important to me that I have something in common with the women I go out with. It’s not like I haven’t tried to date women over 40 but every one of them tried to change me into a househusband where I never tried to change them at all. Until I meet one that doesn’t, I’ll be looking in greener pastures.
           I’ll run the ad another month. It was never intended to be permanent, rather to check out what a random “professional” club has to offer. Brother, it isn’t much. As suspected, there is very little in the middle, that is, no independent career women like we are told exist everywhere. Even the ones with mid-level social and management jobs have an ear to the ground for opportunity that in my day was only present in college women after the first year’s disappointment. So again, I return to music to find my next lady friend. Sigh.
           I’m also finding a lack of extroverted, spirited women. Aggressive is not an adequate substitute, especially the one’s forceful in their demands and relationships, but seemingly unable to take charge of their lives and destinies. Where I could trust my past girlfriends with running the show in my absence, the recent batch give the impression they’d bail at the first bad patch. And if you dare start with mediocrity, it is only going to get worse.
           In an uncharacteristic seasonal surge, gold has surged up over $120 per ounce in the past three weeks. If silver went up another ten bucks, there’d be a stampede.

October 25, 2011

           My holiday backup research is complete already. I’d go to Naples except there is nothing to do there. I’ve never seen St. Augustine. A couple days there sounds nice, touring the older parts of the city. Two hundred ninety-five miles from here. Four tanks of gas, that’s $25 travel expense and I could take the coast road the entire way. It is still off season, I could stay almost a week. I found a place called Scottish Inn with mixed ratings and a singles rate and no William Shatner on their web page. By mixed some people say it is old and moldy, others say it is exactly what they were expecting. It seems similar to my accommodations in Venezuela, just 30 times more expensive.
           See photo, it has Spanish architecture. It is on a spit of land across a causeway (“Bridge of Lions”) from downtown and near a state park and a zoological park. I’d have to accept a smoking room but that doesn’t bother me in my line of work. Just give me a microwave and besides, I’ll find the nearest BK. Check back on this one, particularly if you are a total babe with a sense of adventure.
           The beautiful weather has returned. I kind of lazed around most of the day with all the windows open. It’s the nicest I’ve been to my heart in months. For a laugh, I went back to Craigslist, and it is still the dump it has become due to lack of moderation. It is worse than eBay for trying to find something in the correct category. I was looking at writing gigs, but I warn the casual reader not to think about going into writing unless you own a publishing rig.
           One smile was the people who want a writer to “create, run, maintain and operate” a web site. As if someone who could do all that is going that is going to work for somebody else. I try to imagine the mentality that watches a man coding computer instructions and equates it to “writing”. (Who do we know who thinks that way?) You get a lot of job offers like that in Florida. You do the work, they take the money. Like the guy who wants to start a band who is looking for a drummer, guitarist, bass player, vocalist, stage, lights, a PA system, and a place to practice.
           The pharmacy tells me that unless I supply a phone number, I will not be able to pick up my prescriptions after January. Guess they’ll be getting a lot of phony numbers. It must have to do with that newly-announced state drug database. It was supposed to catch crooks, now it keeps tabs on everybody. Well, you people didn’t support privacy, so now you don’t have any. Serves you right. Did you see the US government is proposing legislation to make Google quit announcing when it receives search warrants? (Most other countries already have such laws.)
           I wrote back to California accepting the donation of electronic supplies and asking if we could provide anything in return. My next prediction for the Arduino is that it will squeeze the more expensive and harder to program microprocessors out of the market. Additionally, nobody has really come up with a commercial use for the Arduino, but I’d watch for something. Once programmed, the chips can be manufactured for a couple of dollars each. I’m considering a book on advanced Arduino coding. It get’s kind of hairy, with bit arithmetic and macros. But a single Arduino success will create an aftermarket for specialized programmers. Do you know any?
           Trivia. For those of you who don’t know what a trade deficit is, that’s when the value your country imports exceeds the value of what you export. TIL (Today I learned) that the US trade deficit is ten times that of any other country, something like $500 billion. The opposite of deficit is surplus. At the other end of the scale, China’s surplus is $300 billion, followed by Germany at $188 billion. Highest per capita deficit? Canada at $50 billion in the hole.

October 24, 2011

           Today's photo is for those who may never have seen something like this before. It is an ounce of silver than has been coated with a micron-thick layer of gold. I have no idea why they do this. It seems funny that they would bother. But now you know, this is what gold-plated silver looks like. It is very similar in size to gold. I bought it to see if I could figure out other than specific gravity how one is able to tell the difference.
           An exciting day of maintenance and repair. But I did meet a guitarist, I know, don’t say it. This guy is established and calls himself an “instrumental” band. I uncover this means he cannot sing. He’s all about blues and classic rock and remember, I used to play all that material. Now I can avoid it by simply saying I can’t sing it, or it is “wrong” for my voice. This is a crude trick I learned from the Hippie.
           I’ll nickname the new guy the “Hammer”. He is local, retired on a budget and although he knows the musicians I know, we’ve somehow never met until today. He doesn’t care for backing tracks and is used to strumming or picking through his material without vocals. He recently played two weeks at the Lamp Post, though I’m having a little difficulty imagining several hours of instrumental music. I’ve decided, without giving up my own rhythm guitar practice, to do some initial follow-up and see where it leads.
           Allow me to complain about prices. I had to purchase new phono jacks for my cables. I’ve long since learned to keep my old metal shield pieces to replace the plastic ones made today. But the plastic ones are now $5 a pair, so out the window went my $35 today. Thanks to robotics I’m doing a much better and faster job of soldering and I find it a reasonably pleasant task.
           While this is going on, I had occasion to keep my dating club forums up on the monitor. I see that for people who don’t like the bar scene, dating clubs are the new bar scene. The most terrible types of unaccomplished men vying for a shrinking cadre of pretty women, or worse, pretending they like the old ladies as a backup plan. Room after room, each dominated by a few loudmouths running everybody down. It’s actually worse because unlike a skid road saloon, nobody can shut them up with a quick fist to the head.
           In another parallel to real life, there is no competition but beta males are there by the zillions. Like hyenas and jackals, waiting for the leopard to make the kill, then swarming around for what they can nick. But I’m there to meet women, not size up the competition. What a total disappointment. Even the few that may actually have the claimed college degree, they aren’t very bright, at least nothing on the scale I’m used to. Or, used to be used to. One thing about the phone company, there was always a truly interesting woman in every department, with the exception of traffic services.
           Another letter from Tallahassee, but not the one I want. My hopes were up when it turned out to be a request for a copy of another document already submitted. I had visions of visiting Savannah. Mercifully, my world-class filing and backup system made this a snap. The catch is in another month, the delay would involve travelling north of the frost line. Fred rode his motorcycle to Ft. Walton (1200 miles round trip) last week and reports numbing cold north of Orlando. And it’s still October. Please don’t make this the eighth consecutive year of birthdays in town for me.
           I shouldn’t say that. The first three or four years, I chose not to leave because I was already in Florida, a place I would consider taking a vacation from other locales. Back then I drove a car and still had residual money in the bank, so JP and I would take off for the Everglades or the Keys. It’s the past three years that weren’t voluntary and I also had to deal with bad people at the 11th hour. But that was then, this is now. I’ll do a backup plan in case I can’t get away until December. I do not like cold weather, but I can stand it for the sake of adventure.

October 23, 2011

           Meet Chester. That's not his real name, but he knows that's what I call him. Chester is the guard dog over at the scooter shop. He's too friendly to be a real guard dog but at least he doesn't slobber. He's a sucker for those chicken-flavored rawhide strips now gaining favor with ex-Enron employees. Say "Hi" to Chester. Good dog.
           Let’s kick off the morning with the $15.95 steak dinner downtown. It’s not the Diplomat yet, but it’s getting there. I’ve not lost my taste for beef done to perfection. I can make it better; it’s there’s something about having someone else do all the fussing. Thank you, bingo. On the return leg, I stopped at the flea market for all the doodads I’ve been running short on. Ah, Sundays. Proof there are no single women between 24 and 48 in the state of Florida.
           I’m slowly catching on to the features of my dating site. If there was anything novel to tell you, I would. My guess is the majority of the women have posted on dozens of sites and are hopelessly jaded. You know how women complain if they don’t wear makeup, men don’t hit on them. Yeah, well unless you start by telling women you’re a millionaire superhero and ten feet tall, you get no response. That seems to be a common ground on all the sites I’ve checked.
           Why am I suddenly checking? Well, I want to spend my birthday out of state this year. Out west, getting a quality date was easy. Then again, I was one of three men in an office of 297 women. But besides that I mean. I miss taking off for the Oregon coast in mid-winter week with Liz, or Marty, or Crazy Liz. Plus, you could find somebody to go to dutch to the more expensive places. Try that here.
           Additionally I checked a few video dating sites but instantly picked up all the women (all, as in every last one) was displaying highly conditioned behavior. As a young musician, I saw years ago that women in jock bars (now called sports bars), acted differently than in other clubs. They developed, the “Oh, baby” and “Yeah, baby” routines, unnatural mannerisms that they came to believe all men like, when in fact it is only the big stupid men. Now I see these women on video are totally into that nonsense. Like tattoos, it represents a direction I don’t go.
           Speaking of tattoos, have you seen the latest? Florescent ink. The dragons head is visible in daylight, then under black light, the dragon’s body appears. Creepy that anyone would associate that with sexy. On my dating site you will get hundreds of replies to a generic search, but if you put two simple criteria, “white” and “protestant”, you get seven replies from the entire eastern seaboard. There isn’t a filter for “no tattoos”.
           I also checked the Unitarian church bulletin. Their roster is more limited than I expected. I’m not really into joining the choir and don’t care for AA meetings relabeled as “free thinkers”. When you click on a follow up, the church site now redirects you to Google calendar who would like a little information about you for their files.
           It looks like I may be taking that trip by myself if at all. Sorry to any readers expecting romance and fast living. The few women on the date lines that say they just want friendship are using that as a decoy or frequently as a defensive barrier. I understand that. I didn’t say I liked it. If you want to be friends, are you willing to pay your own half? Aha. Don’t we all love those women who want you to court them under the guise of friendship, then after you’ve picked up the tab they go home to their unemployed boyfriend. Ooops, sorry Kim Kritz if I blew your cover!
           After five days on the dating site, I see that there are no professionals there. The women are generally average and the guys are a bunch of deadbeats who can’t tolerate competition. Their profiles read like the stale resumes we used to shred every six months. Music is still by far the best way to meet women, particularly the naturally open women who don’t have to play games. I put on my profile that I was 5 foot 5 to throw to see who made an issue of it. I’ve had some semi-avid responses, but on average 960 miles away.
           What have I learned? Most people on dating sites are pretty slow-witted and hypercritical. I generally could care less what a guy says about himself. But when men discover you are a musician, all of your girlfriends suddenly become “groupies with STDs”. We’ve got one bozo in there who is proud that he posts a thousand criticisms per day. He lives out on the prairies, ‘nuff said. He gets mention not for the number, but for his foul mouth. Like the others, he’s operating in some kind of mental vacuum. For instance, they say I am a bad musician and can’t write. How do you figure that? Ah, because they lie about themselves and assume you do, too.

October 22, 2011

           The casino finally got their sign working right after X number of years. Personally, I think such signs are a distraction to bad motorists. Odd that the city permits this and not good old neon. The sign changes every few seconds, I did not know that the casino opened at 9:00 AM in the morning. I thought all the people hanging around the door were the staff. Time to call 1-800-ADMIT IT.
           Bingo season has arrived. Check in tomorrow for any good news. The downside of Jimbos is that it is on the west side of Dixie. The riff-raff has to cross over to go on their little raids, meaning there is always a string of yahoos up to who knows what. But they ain’t lookin’ for work, don’t get that idea. They will walk down the street checking to see if anybody forgot to lock their car. One player tonight reports they stole a can of dog food off his front seat.
           Practice. Until my fingertips were raw, because I’ve hit a plateau and that is a known quit point. Can’t let that happen. Music is still by far the best part time job, think about it. Here’s something more to mull over: What stopped my session was a friend called to say he had, like me (he said), “got a thousand [dollars] saved up for an emergency”. How does one respond to that?
           Do you congratulate? Tell him while it’s better than nothing and more than most people can manage, but until you have the thousand untouched for a year, it isn’t really set aside. Or that a thousand is almost too little to bother with? I had just such an “emergency” and you’ll need thirty times that much in the first eight months alone. On top of that, I knew I carried catastrophic insurance (for real tragedy, thus allowing me to keep far less on hand for day-to-day).
           Furthermore, he keeps it in cash. That is a monstrous temptation for most people, you watch. In a separate topic, my apartment got robbed in 1984 and the thief took everything except the computer, duh. If this place got knocked over, chances are the silver wouldn’t be touched. To a dumbfeck, it doesn’t look like money and it’s heavy, kind of. (It is delusional to think I survived six years on a grand, that’s not at all how it happened. Times were so bad I began to trust divorced women and Canadians.)
           I like Alfa Electronics new slogan. “The Ohm Depot”. Some help may finally be arriving, not from Florida, but from California. Recall Hacktronics ? This is the progressive outfit at originally shipped us the Arduino. (Are you listening the rest of you bozos who refused even our cash unless we signed up?) Hacktronics takes a positive view that we are now a club, and wise to the stage where we are most likely to develop loyalties. Smart.
           My dating club has a chat line feature that is more interesting than the women. Chat lines are my only source of what is going on in the minds of the proletariat, and it is scary. Even the topics posted can be revealing. Some guy with no job going on about Kaddafy being a vampire. In a triumph of hope over reason, I still watch for a decent woman but I won’t be finding many in there. The few pretty ones exhibit that strange “Okaaaaaay” behavior exhibited by the lower classes when encountering unfamiliar signs of intelligence.
           Example. The lady writes asking why I posted a picture in my profile. I send her the site instructions stating a picture increases your responses. “Okaaaaay”. How did I put the picture in my profile (there’s no button)? I inserted a hypertext link. “Okaaaaaaaay”. I didn’t dare tell her my hobby was robotics. She is pretty much the caliber this so-called “professional” site has to offer. It was probably her ex that stole the dog food. She’ll know when he wakes up in the morning and starts licking his own butt.

October 21, 2011

           Here is the scooter at the 4,000 mile mark. It is holding up well but only after nearly perfect maintenance and easy usage. I'm concerned about the average 500 miles per month, which is five times what I put on my bicycle and comparable to when I operated a car. It is truly a handy vehicle, don't doubt that. But like the car, I haven't really gone anywhere to explain the high mileage.
           Admittedly things are slow right now. Expect some action once the tourists arrive next month, maybe. This stretch is my traditional doldrums. A cool spell has arrived keeping things a perfect 78 degrees. Nice for a bike ride and I’m going to sink around $54 into the eBike. Not for repairs, but general upgrades, like heavy duty tubes, tires and brake pads. Generally the eBike has proven its worth. I went for a ten mile ride for my exercise and the lead acid battery is already showing signs of age. I get barely 15 miles per charge instead of 22.
           The new lithium battery weighs maybe five pounds compared to 20, but at $350 each, I won’t be placing those on a $400 bike. Having sincerely nothing to do today, I did the rounds, including a trip to Lee’s bicycle for chain grease, then to Radio Shack for what is proving to be wasted time. I like the place, so it’s with regret I say they don’t carry the parts like they used to. All their electronics is for beginners, for that matter, less than beginners because at first I thought it was me that couldn’t find the right components.
           Now I see they don’t have enough for the hobbyist, even at three times the normal pricing. (That’s still better than seven times at Alfa.) Sadly, M and I have had to cancel the club meetings or often just talk on the phone because we can’t get required pieces, even as salvage. We must get past all the logistics before my programming skills are any good. One hugely positive development is that when we build something by hand, I will often write a program to test it. This is the opposite of what they teach in college.
           Then I ran into Guitar Eddie. He can’t chum the old haunts anymore because the second hand smoke was bothering his lungs. I grew up in a smoking household so it doesn’t bother me. I don’t even notice it even walking in from the fresh air. I told him about my guitar practice and he agrees if I carry my bass habits over to a six-string, it will be an impressive show. So watch out all local slackers, you days are numbered. What Eddie means is how I do not revert to simpler patterns as soon as I begin singing. Don’t tell him it is much more elaborate than that.
           A surprise for me to discover one of the first Arduino programs I wrote months ago is appearing in textbooks as an advanced project. Ha, it was one of my first attempts, the program that flashes the light the number of times on the button you press. Remember that? It’s the same old story, the well-funded people are beating me to the punch, but now by months instead of years.
           It somehow reminds me of a kid in my scout troop, a nothing personality, an average student. Yet when he went to university, he breezed through medical school with such high marks he was hired as a professor on grad day. Then again, it seems like Cortez and 530 men defeated the Aztecs, but it is easy to overlook that he had the resources of an empire backing him up.
           Here’s something. The ill-informed now have their own website. It is called OutKube and designed to “lure moronic Internet commenters away from all other sites”. Created by a coalition of media sources, it contains confrontational posts “carefully crafted to draw in dim-witted web users”. This includes those with views on gay rights, Sharia law, Jewish media control, the New York Jets, and the second amendment. Finally, half-brains of the world have a place to call home.
           Once Outkube became active, newsrooms all over America and Britain began to report their panels were again having intelligent discussions. The site employs professional moderators to keep things as “idiotic as possible” and claims their users “take the bait every time”. One powerful tactic is a popup (if there is no keyboard activity for over 15 seconds) of a woman’s picture asking if she is “fugly” or “doable”. An estimated 65% of their 40 million users are male sports fans. That figures.
           I found the site using the Red Skelton formula of searching washroom walls for the best comedy, and it was great for an hour, then I quickly concluded it was being fronted by moderators. You have to join up and be a member to see the good stuff, an option I declined. What, you didn’t know that’s how good old Red got his material?
           I came home early both from being unaccustomed to “going out” on Fridays and from failing to find a source of 77 feet of enameled copper wire needed for my next project. Things will remain at a crawl until I can afford material or we gain the resources to order in bulk. I can’t be paying $5 for ten feet. I should make friends with some rack rat and get access to the phone company roll ends, though it is 22 gauge where I’d like 30.

October 20, 2011

           I’d say this dude has enough camp gear on his motorcycle. Now you see why I’m fond of sidecars. What does all that gear weigh? And cost? Where does he lock up the expensive junk when he can’t be watching the bike? Is that load even legal? Call me still put off by the outrageous prices for any sidecar motorcycles, as in the $8,000+ for used ones. And that used Urals with only one wheel drive. These vehicles have a season and winter is around the corner.
           If you want to take the overnight train to Savannah, like I do, it costs $72.00. If you would like a bed to sleep in overnight, it costs $393. More than a New York hotel room. More than buying the bed. I balked at a cheap new camera not because of the price, but because it wasn’t in the budget. The old one gave out when it was hanging around my neck as I got splashed and soaked by a big truck. My year-end is not the time I choose to go even $10 over budget.
           Until my ticker acted up, I had a tradition of never spending my birthday in the city or even country where I lived. I have not spent so many birthdays at home since I got out of college in the 70s. It would be a pinch and squeeze job, but depending on how the next three weeks turn out, I may just manage something yet. I’ve missed my exact birth date before, that’s no biggie. Savannah is 550 miles by the coast road, or two days easy riding. The gas would cost $50 round trip. But accommodations and trusting the scooter are another consideration. And of course, I’m leery of advertised hotel rates because they always cost nearly twice the price. And beware of misleading titles.
           The half-week cooped up from the rain was a setback, retired or not, I have as active a lifestyle as I can manage. That doesn’t make today exciting when it really wasn’t. While I did study, I mainly puttered around. Baking chicken and turnips, flagging all the get-rich-quick schemes in the local Craigslist and I spent an hour in the library. It’s on the way home from paying the phone bill.
           It’s something I’d never have tried a short time back, but I soldered and repaired a 24V power transformer. That breaks my near-vow not to go near mains power. This was a pretty obvious repair and I didn’t electrocute myself, so I’m still the biggest enemy of the guitar players in this town. I stopped at the scooter store to see if they needed anything. Nope.
           I saw a Sennheiser on eBay for $139, again my timing was wrong. Sennheiser if a professional wireless microphone that normally costs up to ten times that. The owner was moving back to Europe and was selling out. Then to Barnes & Noble for the most expensive coffee in town, although I finding that place to be more like the library all the time—ever more shelves of stuff I don’t read. I’ve pretty much read all the textbooks and quality magazines. I would point out that one of the worst editions of Mechanics Illustrated I’ve ever seen is this month’s issue.
           The surviving book stores are really streamlining their stock. Tons of books on learning foreign languages and quilting. All you want on celebrity gossip and weight lifting. But still the same eight books on electronics since February. Around the only new thing I found was an article on the smallest one person tent yet invented, it packs up to about the size of a thermos and weights 1.4 pounds, sorry no pic. It was the price tag that made it too heavy. $429.00.
           Nor can I find any data on that new Rolls Royce battery that has triple the storage of anything I’ve seen. There was a manual on “painless writing” if you believe in such a thing. All the recent writing jobs are for monthly magazines which by design must cover shallow topics. Restaurant reviews, sports, community events and everything else I’m not interested in. I like community events except when the community attends them.
           Not that it was a bad day, but I’m hardly happy. Even the crossword was evil, one of those with clues that you can’t know without watching endless afternoon TV. How do I know who did the voice of Mildred the Cow? I further noticed that the worse people spell and punctuate on the Internet, the more they defend it as a sign of superior intelligence. I checked my dating line and I’d say unless you claim to be a millionaire, you get zero first contacts from women. Women that stay single too long go feral. They start asking for directions to the self-help section.
           Most unusual input today was the discovery of caverns on the moon. According to scientists, the presence of natural holes under the surface would be a tremendous boon to setting up a base. Something about simply inflating a rubber pipe and moving in. Furthermore, if the holes turn out to be lava tubes instead of sink holes, who knows how deeply they could explore the subsurface? They might even find Elvis.

October 19, 2011

Let me see if the potato gif still works:

           Yeah, I guess so. Another day indoors thanks to Seattle weather. It won’t let up, and neither will these couple of gorfs I tripped over on the chatlines connected to my new dating site. I got it figured out that the reason the women aren’t swamping me with replies, gifts, and introductory email is because them two guys are getting it all for themselves. Women naturally flock to aging jocks and the half-educated.
           It was fun while it lasted, I posted every half hour while watching for the sky to clear. That didn’t happen until after dark. While I’d like to say I got some study time in, I just was not in the mood. I did a little research on the cell phone blocking concept. I draw a thick line between study and research, so I must be making headway in electronics. The inventor wants something that prevents cell phone use inside a vehicle unless the transmission is in “Park”.
           I discovered that cell phones operate in a rather oddball spread of frequencies, hinting that the concept was no better thought out than technologies of a hundred years ago. Nobody wants to have to connect a cell phone, so that means either regular jamming or wireless shutoff when the phone is inside the car. The fuds (not a typo) take a dim view of anyone jamming except, of course, themselves.
           That means my client may have to seek collusion with the cell phone manufacturers. So far, I’ve considered an app (passworded on the teen’s phone by parents), and even a GPS that detects when the car is moving but that would negate usage on a city bus. Where the factory comes in would involve a tiny transmitter inside the car that blocks something built into the phone. That would also solve the problem of having to find each phone’s frequency.
           There are jammers already on the market, but the solution should be something more passive. And another thing, all of the above ideas have already been rejected as unworkable. You don’t think I’d publish my good material before it was patented, do you? Besides, don’t we all agree people on city buses have a right to be as loud and obnoxious as they please? What part of “public” don’t you understand? My personal favorites are the fat ladies “talkin’ she-itt” and scruffy-looking short men who behave like high school guidance counselors.
           Still no camera, but that’s because no suitable product exists in my price range. The selection also gets smaller, not larger, as the Xmas season looms. Keep checking, but this was never a picture blog to start with so any graphics are extras. Here’s the trivia today. The Israeli army is known as the opposite model to the American. Rather than militarize the civilians, they civilize the military. I discovered the soldiers don’t get leave assigned by officers; instead they draw lots between themselves. There’s something about a girl in uniform, tho myself, I prefer one with an extra pillow than a Uzi.
           Without taking sides to that intractable problem, I do consider the 1967 war as a case history of military prowess. The Israelis managed what most general staffs only dream of. That’s complete stunning victory against overwhelming odds, both military and political. They did have their backs to the wall and knew they had only three days (before the losing side called the UN for a ceasefire), but I confine my interest to the strategy and tactics, not the motives. They did pull it off.
           On my guitar, I’ve chorded through some of Johnny D’s favorites by Cat Stevens and such. It’s catchy but I’m not attracted to tunes with too many chord changes. It reminds me of Knopfler and Dire Straits who use rapid chord changes because they can’t seem to sustain musical interest playing a steady chord. I quit using that trick in my early teens. I’ve learned “The Boxer”, “Baby It’s a Wild World” and “Cat’s in the Cradle”.
           Who likes restored cars? There is a 1966 Mustang in the compound next to Jimbos in showroom condition. What inconsiderate lout leaves it outside? That’s one of the missing pictures, you can suppose. At any rate, I like it when the paint is the real thing from the correct era. There is quite a history to the development of auto paint, worth your time to look up. Here’s a little background on it.
           Model T’s were black because the paint was colored with India ink. Early paints faded easily, but were also easy to touch up. You could buy the paint at the local hardware store. Enamel paints began in the 1930s because they dried faster on the production line. The concept of a primer to prevent rust didn’t happen until the 70s when Japanese competition appeared. (Primers are another complicated technology.) There is a reason they used to put the gas cap behind the license plate. The paints today are lacquer based and that is what makes many restored vehicles look too slick.

October 18, 2011

           There’s a revelation by CLA, that’s College Learning Assessment, an outfit that gauges how well students have learned higher order thinking. If you don’t know what that is, tough. They confirm the shallowness of graduates since 1985, so you aren’t imagining today’s students are a stupid lot. It turns out no contemporary courses require more than 40 pages of reading per week. About what I read in a half hour every day. And these people are going to be running this country in another ten years.
           I doubt that most college grads today could go back and pass their own exams. The whole idea is to get through, not to learn anything. I was once turned down for an accounting position because I did not have document saying I’d taken a certain spreadsheet course. It made no difference that I was the author of that course, all that mattered was the document.
           So how’s my on-line dating going? It isn’t but I’ve learned plenty. One trend I see is that women are using the service not as a filter, but as a supplement to their regular questionable dating habits. The computer becomes one more way to meet the next sucker. It doesn’t work great but it doesn’t have to. I’ve made it a point to hit on the very prettiest women, the models. That’s how I do it in real life. I get turned down by the best and laugh at the rest. The lone feature I can’t stomach in a woman is ordinariness, but nor is that a ticket to be bizarre-creepy like the last one.
           Here’s one for you. Being rained in all day gave me time to scroll the dating ads, and who do I see but the lady I sold my car to back in 2005. Reading her profile tells me she has made immense progress in the past few years. Know what I’m sayin’? She’s kind of the self-appointed site Ann Landers, dispensing all kinds of homey advice, the stuff that never works. I’m also impressed by how much taller than average the good-looking women are, seeming to come it around 5 foot 9 to 5 foot 10. Really amazing, that.
           The average “new job” in America pays a maximum (not an average) of $13 per hour. The average unemployed person today entered the job market in 1980. In 1980 I was making $18.88 per hour and taking home $700 real dollars per week. Today that wage would be $52.00 per hour, but I’m not some old codger insinuating that I worked harder and deserved it. The cause is inflation, and that is why I spent the majority of my earnings on things that could not be taken away. Good education, sound experience, world travel.
           Do those things do me any good today? Well, a lot more good than those people who slaved away their lives away for nothing. It depends on how much of your life you spent with some delusion of getting rich. Such people ain’t any richer than I am right now. I wouldn’t have to sell or borrow anything to come up with some real cash by tomorrow. And in five years, real cash will be at a premium because there will be no privacy. Here’s a thought, “Permit me anonymity in a nation and I care not who makes its laws.”
           They also have a chat room and I’ve already made an enemy. I like really dumb enemies, it is so much fun to yank their chains. Was it Freud that said men will always bond as long as there are other men upon whom they can direct their aggression? Well, I got this klutz from North Carolina that considers himself an expert on the Alberta tar sands, a topic I happen to know. So I baited him along until he clued in. Then he tried a different tack, stating that people from cold climates were smarter than those from hot places. He explained without the benefit of capitals or punctuation that when it is hot, the brain cools down so it won’t become even hotter by thinking, thereby making the thinker less smart. Classic Canadiana. I got twenty bucks says the guy is really from Edmonton.
           The premise here was that this site said their clientele were “professional”. That’s a disappointment at best. There are not as many professionals in the county as on that single dating site. Ray-B adds the music lists are equally off by using the same word—what exactly is a professional guitar player? I saw an ad in Guitar Center for “advanced” bass lessons. Like what? Slap it, spank it, pluck it, thumb it, shove the thing up your nostrils, anything but play the damn thing? When the audience knows what tune you play withing a few notes, then I’ll call you advanced. No, not the whacko Jaco stuff, the average tune. I do it all the time.
           But we had an enlightening conversation about regular guitar lessons. The fact is unless you become a soloist, as in flamenco, the majority of onstage guitar work is fairly boring. We concluded this explains why when you go to a party in your teens, there is some guy there who knows the intro to ten songs but can’t play any all the way through. He never learned to strum, or more precisely, never learned to play rhythm. This fact has proved frustrating beyond belief in my adult life. My own lessons are confined to strumming and are coming along well.
           Last, Ray-B was on the Broadwalk recently and saw Johnny D back in town. Remind me find out where, I’d like to jam with the guy again. I still have his song list. Trust me, it hasn’t changed.

October 17, 2011

           This is my photo from my on-line dating profile. Ah, I thought, since I used to be a dance instructor, let me see if there’s anything new in the local dance scene. Nope. It’s still another vehicle for leftover singles. All that displayed was dating clubs which claim their members are “professionals”. Yeah, sure, right.
           There is a lock and key party in Ft. Lauderdale in January which I’d consider. But today, I’m waiting for the rain to let up long enough to go buy some Fender thin guitar picks. Ladies, is that professional enough for you? Really? Tell me more.
           I read some of their advertising and reviews. Let me tell you, those clubs are one of the next things to be investigated. They make wild claims they cannot possibly deliver on. There may be an exception. The speed-dating outfits. I know that every long term relationship I ever had in this life was sparked in the first ten seconds, often significantly faster. Let me choose one club and look into it.
           I joined up, but won’t say which outfit. The curiosity got me, what kind of woman would respond to my ad, or are the women waiting to be responded to? I know the code to get around too many advertising restrictions, but it isn’t really a code because only Caucasians have blue eyes. I’ve already done enough searches to see all dating clubs are monopolized by people who would never get a date no matter what they do. And average means 40 pounds overweight.
           What an amazing profusion of single women with bachelor degrees earning $50-75K. They exist on paper, at least. It is also clear there are not enough tall men to go around, but what exactly does a woman who is 4 foot 9 mean by “tall”? Another thing that’s changed is the intense, what’s the word, “carefulness” with which women write their blurbs with these days. There must have been a seminar on the topic. Example, the restrained difference between looking for a man “like me” and a man “to like me”. Read twice, be disappointed once.
           One thing that I will never change is my belief that if there is something wrong, such people have a moral onus to tell other people before they make major decisions based on the assumption nothing is wrong. Remaining silent on a point is not good enough. If you never promised a rose garden, spell it out early, not later, Loretta. My idea of things that are wrong: Drug dependence, psychotic personality, contact with former lovers, over-strong family ties, history of bad choices, TV addiction, lack of life accomplishment, Mafia connections, genetic defects, generally anything negative that she feels is somebody else’s fault.
           I openly admit my major defect. The bottom line, toots, is nobody is going to last with me unless she is a total babe. I’d put that in my ad if they’d allow it. Another thing there is no excuse for these days is a poor education. The government will send you to school for friggin’ free, lady. The courses are pretty tough because you already know it all, but still, there is no reason to not have a specialty these days.
           Back to real life, I have a question. How come when you are carrying two bags of garbage across the living room and one breaks, it is the one containing coffee grounds and banana peels? Is it me? Is it Florida? I know these things never happened when I had the right woman. They happened to her. Ha-ha, I didn’t mean that. Or did I?

Addendum
           Having spare time isn’t such a bad thing if you always have something to do. Like write. Today, I finished my year-end a month ahead of schedule. Things are looking up, particularly since this is first year after my “post-retirement”. I’ll elaborate, but it is no good to do certain experiments unless you have a control, a way to gauge their results a long time after they are complete.
           My practice retirement lasted from November 2005 to November 2010, you can look it up earlier in this blog, but that’s a lot of reading. I stress, I did not want the facts of retirement, including the strong possibility of having to continue working in some form, to take me by surprise. While almost anyone could tell you retirement is a shock, they are just talking. Advice comes easy when watching an experiment from a safe and comfortable distance.
           Nobody’s ever ready, but that doesn't mean don't prepare. I needed the entire year after 2010 to compare against the recent past. Right there's an opportunity most people will never have. I rate the trial a qualified success, and I’ll state some of those qualifications in a moment. The most serious downfall for the majority will be (future tense) their built-in beliefs that they deserve a good life just because they worked hard and obeyed every imaginable rule. They actually thought their middle-class behavior meritted them a job, a wife, a mortgage, etc. and now think that extends to a retirement. Wrong. Look around you.
           Don’t underestimate this significant factor. These people are crazy but there are millions of them. You can see then on TV, marching down Wall Street. On a smaller scale, they behaved just as irresponsibly as the banks they are protesting. All their nothing lives they naively trusted the system that is now arresting them by the busload. And just wait until they find their arrest records posted on the Internet when the next time they’re needing a job. Or when their credit score drops 300 points. Let’s hear them say then that they have nothing to hide.
           What are the factors that kept my practice retirement from getting an A+? First of all, I worked the entire five years at a successful business, a business that was remarkably like a part-time job without fixed hours. (I had to create that business, something 99% of people fail to do in a lifetime.) Also, I rode a bicycle 7,000 miles during that stretch, so my health gradually improved (to 45% normal). You will not be so lucky. It takes discipline, a word most North Americans wouldn’t know if it kicked down their door with a search warrant over their grand-kid’s “most recent” history.
           Conclusion. As far as my Five Year Plan:
           A)     I would not do it again unless there was no other choice. Do not rely on a working retirement. You won’t make it. Every last thing you could do is taken by the illegal immigrants you turned a blind eye on for the past forty years.
           B)     The business income was never steady. I had to survive five (intermittent) months of losses over those 60 months and another five of breaking even. Most people cannot survive a single lost paycheck without cash help.
           C)      FACT: Part-time, whether a job or business, ties you down full-time. Now what did I just say? Repeat that back to me. I never did get away even once, except a working trip to the Carolinas. This isn't 1995. Take one holiday and your clientele will be gone when you return.

October 16, 2011

           A nice long blog today, I was rained in. This means an additional study session and this time I took a close look at the dividing line between where one uses microprocessor programming and where ordinary passive components are good enough. It was either that or watch John Candy or Tony Curtis reruns and try to decide if they are more entertaining than my 10K potentiometer. They lost. I’ve decided to program is a sketch that tests every combination of pins on a mystery LED. (Sketch is the Arduino term for computer code.)
           Up until now, we’ve been throwing out salvaged LEDs that we can’t identify. The sheer number of pin combinations make these a tough test. This may be a chance to also build a physical tester. My coding is still ten years ahead of my practical. If you can’t instantly see how I test all 169 pin configurations with two commands, ask Patsy. She knows all about this stuff. She’s a programmer, you know.
           Argh, I hate Windows7 Word. If you have any brains at all, each Word version just gets harder to use. I still can’t turn off that asinine “Calibri” font, and when you insert a picture, the cursor sits in front instead of after the insert. It’s shit like that, MS. I understand MS’s philosophy, that their products are designed for Suzy Dumtwit who sits around all day typing letters she can’t read or comprehend, but leave well enough alone why can't you. What is wrong with you people?
           Have you seen the new PayPal account rules? By signing up, you are giving them complete permission to investigate anything they please, including examining your bank account for “risk management” purposes. They only “permit” you to use their service and to do so they “require” as much personal and private information as is known to exist, and can deny you access if they discover there is any source of personal information that you did not reveal to them. Whether or not they use any given source, it must be declared. Don’t look at me, I warned the lot of you twenty years ago.
           Another downpour all day, the stormiest non-hurricane weather since 2005. I watched some colorized newsreels from WWII and I say, the new methods produce very authentic results. But somebody should tell those numbskulls who post on youTube that a series of still photographs or a slideshow is not a video. How those jerkfaces get their lame posts to the top of every search I’d like to know. They should get their own site.
           Further reading bears out my prediction that the Arduino would become a standard in the robotics field. They are now selling by the millions and I should say they are not restricted to robotics, rather that is field into which I decided to explore.            The whole area is mushrooming, there are even new products such as thermal printers that are intended to be operated by the Arduino. Don’t mistake my early start with any kind of head start, I require hundreds of hours of study just to catch up.
           Here is a picture of the thermal printer from an informative but poorly written set of blogs at tronixstuff. I don’t mean the bad grammar, but the author, Viklund, is not proofreading his own work, rather grinding the material out as fast as he can. He is also thinking like an engineer, describing how things work without delving into why and giving examples. What if your reader has no idea how to use an IP address, Vik? All you tell him is how to change it. If you don’t describe things, don’t use them as examples, dude. Yet, the blog is worth the hassle, so read it.
           Another reason to not expect miracles is the hobby nature of my interest. Some of the newer projects talk about using equipment I can’t afford, such as two Arduinos. We still need a rational search engine. I was on-line for several hours and it is becoming ridiculous to find things. Don’t you hate it when you all your responses are from Chinese companies that want you to order 10,000? I’d write my search algorithm right now if I could find out how to do it. I can do the programming, it is the implementation I can’t find anything on. In my searches, the public would be able to rate the categories so that you could exclude what you don’t want no matter how clever the SEO programmers become.
           The code itself is in the complicated C format, full of non-English gobbledygook (example: $current_row = mysql_query("SELECT page_id FROM page WHERE page_url = "$url"");. My code would create a second linked database that allows users to vote on criteria, such as the big one: is the site really free, or does it want memberships and logons? Next would be whether it is a site of information, or a site that tries to sell you a book about information.
           Since the public would be voting, it is driven from the bottom-up, almost impossible for top-down search algorithms to manipulate. Thus, when you search for free ebooks, you would get three responses, not 70 million. That’s right, just three. You would be able to block youTube videos that have advertising at the beginning. Or avoid lyrics sites that have ringtone popups. If would force a conformity against the worst-practices mindset of the current gang of web programmers. They would have to quit the nonsense or not get visited, simple as that. Besides, all advertising should be passive anyway.
           And if you are wondering why the commercials on late night TV don’t come blasting on as loud as before, Congress passed a law against it last December. It should be making a difference about now. Oddly, certain truly dismal people were against this law. I guess they like their life insurance ads twice as loud as the program. Weird or what?
           So I turned on the TV again to listen. Yep, the commercial volume is down. That, to me, represents one of the more useful and complicated items the government should ever stick its nose into. But the real crime is those Stargate episodes where they keep discovering alien civilizations that wear togas. The female aliens can belly dance. By sheer coincidence, so can countless unemployed actresses right here on Earth.

October 15, 2011

           JP didn’t make it, what a surprise. So I stayed in and watched old movies, the ones where every murder took place at an opera, a boxing ring, or conveniently backstage from where the cameras and lighting were already set up. Monk always manages since his victims always have connections. We need a series that kills off the surplus guitarists out there, the glut of Garfunkels. I’d watch it every week.
           We may have a new camera like it or not. I keep mine handy on a lanyard around my neck. Last week I got caught in a flash rainstorm that shorted it out before I could pull over. Now it eats batteries. This time, I can afford something a little nicer, so watch for an upgrade on the pictures here. I’m looking for something that works in low light.
           Valve stem covers, those little caps you screw on your tire inflator thingees, I got in trouble with those as a lad. I used to be fascinated by farm machinery lots, you know, full of combines and tractors. The machines, not the farming or the farmers, I mean. When I saw all the different kinds of covers, I got this idea that I could take one from each machine and start a famous museum that would put our little town on the map. Needless to say, Taschuk and a lot of equally old people in town did not see it that way.
           Speed is picking up again, even though this is traditionally my worst stretch of every year, the Halloween fiscal event for me. Mind you, I am squarely back in the saddle, even if I am bringing up the rear. But I just purchased some 72 month futures, meaning if I’m alive on Nov. 1, 2017, check gold prices. If it is above $10,000 per ounce, I’ll be worth $1.3 million. Then again, so will a quality Japanese import. (But I don’t have to outrun the bear.)
           Let me enlighten the minority concerning the JP Morgan on your food stamp cards and in front of the Chase Bank logo. He’s the “other JP”, that is the same John Pierpont Morgan who financed both sides of both world wars and created the Federal Reserve Bank, which is not federal, has no reserve, and is not a bank. When Germany lost, he supported US reparations so they could pay back his loans. He made his original big bucks selling defective rifles to the US Army.
           His progeny are as undistinguished as you’d expect of the spoiled rich, although his name lives on in Morgan Stanley, the firm that toppled Drexel (partly by labeling Drexel’s non-corporate bonds as “junk”), then promptly took over the same market. The corporate goal of these financial giants is to gradually absorb smaller banks and create a non-competitive New World Order. Yes, that JP Morgan and the Rule of Rothschild, “Permit me to issue and control the money of the nation and I care not who makes its laws.”
           Life must be interesting because my eighth anniversary of no tobacco slipped by without ceremony earlier this month. I smoked when I was in college and had to study at Denny’s because I had no clean, quiet spot to study at home. Thanks to the lies of my parents, I had to live in unheated attics while my older sister resided in a skyrise apartment and owned two cars, partly paid for by money that had been promised to me. I estimate my marks were at least 20% lower because I could never concentrate. The staff at Denny’s knew my standard fare, “A coffee, a package of cigarettes, and a side order of matches.”
           A lady friend asked me to check some coin prices and I met with a surprise. I believe, as with stamps, only the dealers make money, never the collectors. I expected some ordinary lists but was astonished to see (from my programming perspective) that rare coins are one of the most computerized industries out there. Make certain you check the latest posts, mind you. Like the rest of the Internet, there are thousands of amateur publications that have never been updated.
           The scooter shop was supposed to have a cookout this weekend. The rainclouds looming made that a no-go, which is too bad as I was invited to come take a look at all the babes who were invited. Young, air-headed, inexperienced, unsophisticated women have a charm of their own, especially when you consider the alternative. Instead, we sat around in the parking like we owned the place.
           Bingo was minimal again. The show must go on. The crowd was so small several people won several times each, so they donated the entire prize game to me as a tip. I rather think I’ll head for the beach tomorrow on the electric bike. And speaking of that, I think I’ve had it with Schwinn. This is the third speedometer in a row that quit working for no good reason, and when you try to test it, zap goes all your stored data. That company has really taken a dive.

October 14, 2011

           Remember Xoikers, my completely developed and tested word puzzle game? Around here, good ideas get delayed, never destroyed. I can’t afford to have it properly patented, which runs around $2600. Well, it seems one of my clients has an invention that can be made by a robotics club. And her husband is a lawyer. Xoikers is an interesting product because at top predicted sales, it would produce merely $62 - $65 per day. Yet I believe that I am right to think that while most North Americans would reject it on that basis, they are fools.
           Why? Because, while it is only $62 per day, it is an extra $62 per day. The production and distribution costs are zero. And only a fool would turn down an extra free allowance per day the way things are going. In the near future when the pension plans collapse, the puzzle money will be a ticket to paradise. There is no sacrifice to create the puzzles for the software is already written. As long as I can walk or crawl, I can produce all the puzzles ever needed. And it is the simple ideas that are hardest to compete with.
           Simple is the watchword with the new guitar lessons. Everything necessarily has to be fairly easy, but from the word go I am insisting on perfect timing and discipline, and I don’t use the word “perfect” loosely. In music, timing is indeed something that can be perfect. But to that timing, I add syncopation and full stops, another lost art in Florida. With Erin, I have a receptive learner and I can take the time to demonstrate how the various instruments mesh without boring her.
           Just you try to get some other guitarist to play less than he is, to listen and study the interplay of bass and guitar notes, why you’d be accused of blasphemy. Also consider the fact that whenever you play something the way the guitarist plays it, he can quit and join another band while the rest of you will be stuck with something you can’t transfer. I am careful to point out to Erin what she would have to change to play the same music as a soloist. Most guitarists don’t even think there is a difference.
           And oh yes, the pension plans will collapse. The money isn’t there. Companies raided the funds over the past twenty years, hoping to replace it with future earnings before they had to pay out. The future earnings aren’t there either. So few people from the boom have retired so far that the companies can still make faces, but the rot is setting in. Only 3 million have retired, there’s another 82 million to go. The entire existing middle-class, so to speak. The ones who, when they try to work under the table, will be praying for the privacy they so willingly gave up.
           Trivia. So, I’m learning guitar, robots, and how to sew. There’s an ancient Chinese proverb that says the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is today. And peanut butter in the past year has gone up in price from $435 per ton to $1,210 per ton. That’s a better percentage than gold.
           Which all gets me to thinking what I would do if I had the extra $62 per day. The same question is what would I do if I had the money? For starters, I’d move to Colorado, but I’d also wait until next Spring. If there is one thing I don’t like too much about Florida, it is the summer heat. You can’t get anything done. If you leave your A/C on, it costs you plenty, if you leave it off, you sweat and your papers stick to your fingertips and elbows as you try to work. If you have a fan, your papers are continually blowing off your desk.
           I experience the same problem in reverse in the cold Montana winters. It was easier to stay warm and dry, but then the cost again. Twenty below zero affects mobility as well, so that restricts your work in a different way. Ideally, one would spend the summers in Washington and the winters in Florida, but there seems to be no reasonable way to accomplish that. Except being born rich. The two economies have nothing in common. A Washington business in Florida would be quashed by the corruption. A Florida business in Washington would be laughed out of town.