June 30, 2013

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 30, 2012, looking at West Palm.
Five years ago today: June 30, 2008, Ford fan belts.
Six years ago today: June 30, 2007, watching the market implode.

           What is this picture? Some street signs in Ft. Meyers Beach? Nope, so pay attention because this might help you out. Look even closer and you will see just right of center what looks to be a baggie of water hanging from the rafter. See it? Ignore all the background till you see it. Every open area of this pub, “SOBs”, had a bag of water handing on a string. I could not figure it out, so I asked. They say it keeps the flies out of the building.
           That’s new to me. And it appeared to be working. The only way to tell would be if there were any flies around, but there weren’t. Has anyone ever seen this before? SOB is short for Smoked Oyster Bar, but the photo last day, which was intentional, was meant to make some people think they spotted it first. (As you know, I am not too kind to uneducated people who find this blog by mistake. They don’t belong here. How does one know if they are too uneducated to be here? Ask the question, does anything I say make you fuming livid?)
           Sunday meant an afternoon at band rehearsal, where it appears we got many “likes” on Facebook. That does not impress me, however, Facebook being what it is. I want paying gigs, and I confess I am beginning to wonder if much is forthcoming. I understand this band, like many, is touchy about freebies, but where does the freebie end and pump-priming begin?
           These guys draw the line differently. I’d like a commitment as much as anyone, but I’d rather play a free show at a joint that does not have to set up shop to hire us. Like the VFW, the Moose, or the Legion. We did the animal society, which has no hall or music budget. They could not hire us if they wanted to, since they would pretty much have to make a profit to pay us. But guys, this isn’t Texas. Benefits are worse than free because there is no potential.
           The good news is we can jam every tune on our original list, which takes the pressure off me. Today we ran through tunes from the 60s for fun. Who remembers “White Rabbit”, “I’m Not Your Stepping Stone”, “Purple Haze”, “Hey Joe”, and “To Love Somebody”. Back in my day, hit songs had a much greater diversified sound and often a lot more instruments in the background. But that is a broad statement.

           Here is JZ chowing down on oysters. I told you we were different individuals. I don’t even like to look at clams and oysters. This guy piles on the horseradish and pepper sauce and digs in. We have this deal, see. He thinks my hat, my Gilligan fish hat chases the women away. Say’s JZ, we’ll never get any women as long as I wear that hat. How does it work? Well, see that shirt he is wearing. Aha. Gotcha. That shirts looks like my grandmother’s quilt. If he gets to wear that shirt, see. . . .
           Today is officially over at 8:40 PM for me. I didn’t tell you this, but I have very sensitive skin and I cannot swim in salt water and immediately jump into the shower to rinse off. The sea water changes my skin chemistry, which itself has changed since ten years ago. If I rinse, I get a burning sensation that lasts half a day. I have to wait 36 hours, which is right about now. Also, I cannot tolerate salt water on my scalp, so I’m a wader, not a swimmer. I have never heard of anyone else having this condition. Here’s me in the drink as deep as I’ll ever get, and to think I used to scuba dive and snorkel.


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June 29, 2013

           Tourists walking past kept saying I was standing behind the wrong pirate sign. But I checked three times and it definitely says “Ft. Meyers Beach”. What was it with those people? Can’t they read? Welcome to the gulf coast of Florida. Much prettier than the Atlantic side but it took me fourteen years to find that out. The water is murkier but warmer and the average age is about half. This is Saturday morning in the downtown area, totally dedicated to seasonal operations.
           My loyalty knows no bounds, as we headed back down Gator Alley to get me home in time for bingo. Which was very successful, by the way. By Saturday morning we were old hands a Ft. Meyers Beach, having been all over place enough to go everywhere and do everything. I find out to my great surprise, this is the first time in his life JZ has partied out with no family, just piled in the vehicle and got out of Dodge. I say again, that really surprised me but, well, that doesn’t surprise me.
           Everything he wanted to do was family-oriented whereas I have not a molecule of that attitude in my constitution. JZ, you can go bowling in your next life, we are heading straight to the beach, oil spills or not. I am not happy to report that all the seafood available was not allowed on my diet. But JZ made up for it!
           It is day three, we are favorites of the hotel staff, the tiki bar knows us by name, the band has let us jam, the local 7-11 will sell us one bag of popcorn. Our schedule matched the tide, I had hit on every available gal in town and JZ had sat there and watched me do it. I have no fear of rejection. On Thursday night, it was a phenomena to see me hit on every gal in the place while all the big boy jock types sat there being cool, flexing muscles and getting nowhere. We bought a round for every gal that walked in the place by herself.

           JZ went after two gals I told him were sending me warning signals. Sure enough, they were off-duty strip…… er, I mean “exotic” dancers. I’ve had to explain to JZ so many times that we don’t have to be the best in the world, just the best in the place we are at the moment, so we don’t have to chase the women in the business of sex. He always forgets over time, but we were the bachelors to meet at the Lani Kai on 2013-06-28. Note the hotel charges by the person, same price each. So rent two rooms.
           By how it happened we got there right before the big summer weekend of July 4th, and the early party crowd was already showing up. The town was full of pretty women, the main reason we stopped there. The said far younger crowd makes the Miami side one area I advise you not to even bother with. We drove up to Cape Coral on the advice of a thrift store owner, but never could find the character part of town. A town, I would point out, that is 99.999% the right kind of people. I didn’t say that, I said the right kind.
           Of course, I hit all the book stores in town while JZ stopped for a bite to eat. The largest one, and first time I’ve seen this, is the Goodwill on San Carlos for books only. Thousands of them. But only one textbook, which I bought. Like the new Barnes, it reflects the decaying mental capacity of the last couple of American generations. The entire history, science, and for that matter anything academic section was one shelf in the left wing, behind the cookbooks and astrology.

           Here is a picture that would normally not appear in this PG13 blog. But it took thirty-five shots posing with the tripod to get just the right composition that I decided the world could use a laugh. I call this picture “White Boy Tourist”. When you see it.
           [Author’s note: Whenever JZ pointed at some particularly pretty or sexy gal, I made it a point to bring her over to talk with him. Then came the ultimate score. There were two perfect-bodied blondes in the water. Every guy on the beach was watering at the mouth. I walked out of the hotel and right over to them. Sorry all you jock heroes, this is not BS, an entire hotel full of people saw it. No pictures. I had them waving at JZ and splashing water, but damn, they were slightly underage. However, world, THAT is the difference between me and any, repeat any, douchebag who says I can’t get the women. That bunch is totally missing the point, as usual. But not the point they are being called douchebags.]

June 28, 2013

           Breakfast on the balcony. Well, for me anyway, since I only eat three times a day. Little joke there. Or is it? Read on. We booked a second day at the Lani Kai despite it being about thirty dollars overpriced with no Internet. We strolled up the beach to the older part of town, stopping only three times for JZ to have ice cream and chocolate. Here he poses pointing to the sign near the community pier. It is one scorcher of a day already.
           I forgot to mention y’day we drove over that new eco-friendly causeway they are building across the Everglades to replace Tamiami Trail. This is the roadway that allows the water to flow along the same patterns as centuries past. It sure is nice. And very expensive. We saw no alligators. But we did hit the hundred year storm, which blasted the windshield wipers off the truck. We had to stop and buy new ones. Later, I mean new one. He only bought one wiper.
           I sampled the health food only as JZ insists oysters are healthy. I dunno, aren’t they called the garbage can of the oceans? Or is that clams. Either way, no raw seafood for me unless it is caught miles and miles offshore. But oysters, they grow near effluent pipes, see. JZ, that’s effluent, not affluent, quit mixing those up. The restaurants here have a sauce made from peppers in oil. So my buddy digs one out of the jar and bites it in half. I have never seen that grown man cry before.
           Should I mention my buddy today downed 12 raw oysters, 24 clams, and 12 chicken wings, plus trimmings? (Later we went for burgers. Other than a light breakfast, that burger was my entire daily intake.) If you add it up and think, hey, that guy just ate 6,000 calories, you would be right. Five times my total. And this is not all that unusual. He likes his food.
           Now with all this fun and adventure, it is easy to forget that JZ and I remain quite different people. It some ways this works, for example he likes fat girls and I don’t. In other ways it is astonishing we can get along, for example his take-it-or-leave-it attitude about adventure. To me life is nothing without the most adventure one can afford. Or just look at the high premium I place on natural curiosity where he could care less. By way of commonality, our greatest similarity would be our resistance to learning anything new that contradicts our current thinking, but that explains nothing much because the same is true of most people.
           Is this important? Well, yes, in that I missed out on the one single event that was central to our trip out here—Karaoke. I’m a veteran of over 200 shows and know the formula. That includes arriving early enough to quickly get that first song in while any babe that sees it knows you got there after she did. Then a maximum forty minute wait for your second turn. That, Karaoke pick-up artists, is my window of opportunity. Karaoke works best once at each new location, if you don’t score in the first 90 minutes of your first show, don’t bother ever going back. You’ve become the next wannabe.
           How, I hear you ask, did I miss a show that was three months in the planning? How did I spend three hundred dollars to drive to the other end of the state and not accomplish my plan. Well, you see, it turns out JZ thought Karaoke was just lip-sync. What? That is correct. What’s the big deal over something that even kids could do? Never mind that it took me years of struggle to accomplish.
           Why, those years are explainable by the fact I am so dull-witted that I learn slow. That is an easy assumption to make about others. My buddy took so much time to get underway that I finally left him behind and raced over myself to the place I’d chosen (the Lighthouse Pier). I arrived two and a quarter hours late. The nearest chairs were sixty feet from the stage and the wait was 21 singers ahead of me. It would have been midnight before I sang. So I left and went back to the hotel to read. Here is a picture of the Lani Kai.
           Now you don’t need to laugh so hard. Learning to sing was a life-altering struggle for me. But not for my buddy, to whom at best it is a passing incident, so you sing, no big deal. Yes, we did have roughly eight discussions in advance that the whole idea of this trip was to meet great women in a new town. It didn’t click for him that Karaoke was pivotal to that plan. Like most men, his concept of picking up women involves an awful, awful lot of wasted talking where my style is much more, “Watch this.”
           So, it was no Karaoke for me. JZ draws no distinction between being the star and sitting in the back row watching the show. Upon later talking about why I didn’t want to “sit around to see what happens”, it turns out he honestly believed Karaoke was just make-pretend singing. Funny how there is actually a certain logic to that thinking. In fourteen years, JP has never seen me sing, call bingo, or play in public, and therefore does not “believe it makes any difference”. It follows how things made no sense to him why I was in a hurry and making such a big fuss to get there on time. I see now that to him, showing up like the next guy or the next guy was all the same thing.
           Chalk it up to an expensive missed opportunity. We got lots of other things done, I visited a bookstore, he swam the marathon. We walked through the downtown to notice it was mostly new after being flattened by hurricanes. We looked at real estate prices, it has gone crazy as people move north from frighteningly expensive locations like Marco Island. The life here is more wholesome than what Miami has become. No, it is not the tropical paradise portrayed in the movies. Immigration has turned it [Miami] into a festering rat-hole except for the gated communities with armed guards. For the record, while I refer to the area often, I actually only drive through that town a few times per year.

June 27, 2013

           Hello from the Lani Kai in Ft. Meyers Beach. It’s the same old, JZ didn’t want to get out of town, too busy etc. I think he at first said he wanted to sign some documents. But once we got on the road, he won’t go back. You might not see this post for a while, since the Lani Kai is not in any way similar to its counter part in Hawaii where I stayed a good thirty years ago. Take that anyway you want, but include the women here are much chunkier today, and there is no Internet service. It makes sense when you think it over.

           We left Miami four hours late, which is no surprise, and drove west on Tamiami Trail, stopping at the ranger station. JZ and the ranger lady recognized each other, a complete wow to me. She actually knew us both but I had no recollection of this lady. She took an instant shine to JZ but he got fussy, in fact, rather fussy. Yes, he likes them all but he is sure starting to act like me.
           Despite our plan to do Naples, we reprogrammed the GPS to avoid the freeway and followed a lengthy roundabout via Bonita Beach, then Ft. Meyers Beach, which is not the same as Ft. Meyers. Pulling through town we saw fifteen good looking women in the streets, something you NEVER see in Miami. You know, just ordinary gals going about their chores. We drove another five minutes and doubled back, and that’s where the Lani Kai comes in. JZ and I are completely different critters, it is a wonder how we ever get along.
           Before continuing on the main path, we followed a beach road to find a parking spot in Naples that led to a beautiful Gulf beach, complete with pier. We trekked all the way to the pier. I gave up and sat down as he walked to the far end. I hate giving up. This shallow water is expected the sheltered west coast and the piers are very long.
           We hit a Florida downpour so bad we could not get over 15 mph even after replacing the wiper blades. At a roadside Target, we found a health-food deli the likes of which could never exist in Miami. Read that to mean an unprotected pickle counter with tables. In Dade, fifteen third world types would start living there, stealing the tables for scrap metal and using up a pound of condiments for every ounce paid for. If you think I am racist, you have not gone and looked at the facts for yourself. There is no "race" of third world types, only a distinct behavior.
                      "Extreme Alligator Watching In Florida". Sure, we wound up partying and chasing women, but I insisted we stop at all the neat places along the way. We saw everything, including this alligator viewing point where tourists could stand right up close to a railing and see first hand how Nature organizes itself regarding natural selection. (Here is a picture of a tourist at the railing.)
           Predictably, JZ now wants to buy a place and stay here. Let me explain how that came about from a guy that was reluctant to even leave town for the last three weeks. I’ll say it again, we are a team. In a zillion years I will never convince my pal that meeting women is not the obstacle I face. He requires frequent reminders.
           So I brought [over the next several hours] seven women over to the table to let him take his pick. Without going into detail, he managed to talk each of them, one by one, out of going up to room 407 for a nightcap. There is a certain element of “duh” to any man who thinks I can’t pick up women by the boatload. What I can’t find is a good one. Since we are on a vacation here, I felt compelled to point that out.

           I eventually turned in early and let the kids party till two in the morning. We did arrive late in the day but it was an otherwise quiet Thursday. We started the evening with a cold beer in the lounge with a band called “Free Spirit”. See JZ, that’s the kind of band we’d have today if you’d listened to me in 2006.
           Tell you what. Here’s the line I used to bring the women to the table. I don’t normally reveal secrets but here’s the difference between myself and my brothers who buy those books of pickup lines and memorize them. Yes, I do use lines, but with the major, major difference is that mine are original and often could only have been invented on the spot. I got up on the counter, pointed to JZ and roared, “Ladies, meet the best looking millionaire in this place. Oh, I know there’s lots of them here tonight, but this guy is the best-looking one.”
           Worked like a charm. What? Well, it is not lying because only a complete moron would think there were any rich people staying at the Lani Kai. But no Karaoke. It is one of those strange towns that only have it Sunday through Tuesday. Figure that one out. We also stopped at a redneck biker bar and played Johnny Cash on the juke box. Cultural pursuits? None, there aren’t any. This is Florida.
           Here is the lady at the ranger station.

June 26, 2013

           Silver continues to plunge and I continue to go against both grain and instinct. I raided the money pantry for a big purchase this morning. I practice what I preach. Something is depressing the market. I’m not concerned about loss, because I’m speculating. I don’t want to be looking back a year from now and realize I missed one hell of a bargain.
           Morning coffee was again at the Columbian bakery, where I saw a large corn patty, but decided not to try it. The price tag was $3.20, so I passed. Some nearby patrons, led by one named Milton, bought it for me. It comes from a seaside area in Columbia and they knew I’d like it. Yes, I did. I thanked them, but I suspect they thought I didn’t have the money when in fact I had just come back from the silver shop.

           Here’s a different perspective on third world countries. Americans don’t like these immigrants arriving here from their squalid countries and enjoying, some say taking advantage, of our system. Not many of us realize it was our government interference which turned these countries into what they are. Most of the world was tidy groups self-sufficient, if quarrelsome, communities until the Europeans arrived to impose civilization. More specifically, it was the American government, which most pointedly does not represent the American people, that uprooted most of the world’s traditional societies. (This does not, however, explain why some nations like India or China or Turkey prosper only after adopting our ways.
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           The Internet has spawned a new category of dunce. Let me tell you why I think that. There is now a large colony of “majority rules” shallow thinkers. This is nothing new, my entire family was like this, they knew a little bit about everything, usually just enough to quote the wrong version, give the wrong advice, and criticize the hell out of anyone who looked deeper into the facts. The Internet takes this to a whole new level in terms of sheer numbers, and we all know the power of stupid people in large numbers.
           A good example is the crop of lunk-heads who think they’ve found history’s unsung heroes. They continually point to Tesla and electricity or the ancient Chinese and rockets. Let me inform you the world is full of big idea people who never accomplish a damn thing in their lives. Only other wannabes worship them. Unless someone can explain to me the difference between big losers and small losers on this scale, it’s all just talk. Enough about Tesla, already, he amounted to a hill of beans.
           Hint for those who like to be careful. Never transfer more than 45 files at a time by email, no matter how small those files are. Stay away from SkyDrive (MicroSoft cloud storage.) Keeping anything where MicroSoft can touch it is asking for trouble. Nothing trusted to MicroSoft is ever safe nor secure. When you delete files from SkyDrive, MicroSoft keeps copies, so always overwrite your files with inert material before “deleting” them. My advice is you overwrite them with copies of MicroSoft’s mickey-mouse privacy policy.

           The heat drove me indoors again, this time to go over the song list until I got to “Mercy, Mercy” by the Rolling Stones. This older music is best learned by finding the score or the tab. And I truly hate this particular song because every guitarist in existence plays it wrong. In the original recording, the guitar regular messes up the B and the F#m. But I know guitar players and B is easier to play than F#m.
           Chordie, usually a good reference, is screwing up by listing songs by the album instead of song title. You cannot find “Mercy, Mercy” by searching on Rolling Stones. I often wonder if these fried-brain people sit around in their mother’s basements cooking up ridiculous ways to categorize information that one has to be stoned to figure out. Probably. But that is a lifestyle, too.
           An aside to the bass players in this town. Here’s my $0.02. If you want to sing, start your own group. Because singing bassists are so rare existing bands will consider you a menace to their agenda. And trust me, no matter how cool they initially appear, guitar players and vocalists will develop a pathological revulsion the moment you get noticed ahead of them. What’s more, knock it off with the Christian angle. There is a good reason nobody is advertising Hebrew Rock or Buddhist Blues. Oh, and if you join somebody else’s band, shit-can your old set list until you learn even their worst material. These words I know to be true. Get over it.

ADDENDUM
           Ah, I finally get asked the question about how long this blog will be. And from a source [whom] I must answer. The original plan was 3,650 daily posts. Ten years. It was intended to be completely taken from existing hand-written pages. Changing it to a daily journal in nearly real-time altered the format and my style. I have no plans to extend it beyond one decade. Blogs are an outdated medium and most of the zillions once out there have withered away—but most of those I attribute to lack of perseverance and poor choice of topic.
           (Whenever I explain that, I get these flashbacks of my family and their diaries. They’d get one of those booklets and write the first couple days of some new year. Then skip a day, then a week. And years later you’d find those stupid little booklets lying around. I also believe that many people do not write because it reveals how dreary and repetitious they are.)
           I would point out that readership of this blog is not declining. In fact, there is a distinct upward curve. I have not yet instituted my plan to advertise this blog in novel ways, or considered switching to a smart phone format. Nor is this your ordinary blog in that it regularly contains new and useful information. I have nothing but guesswork as to whether this or any other blog will survive, but some always will.

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June 25, 2013

           Stand by for a blockbuster. Okay, stand down. That property is scratched off the list. Here’s your explanation. First, the ad was deceptively worded to imply the townhouse was a “single family dwelling”. A townhouse is not really the same thing, that’s why it is called a townhouse. You neighbor owns the other half of your wall. But the real problem is the ad and the pictures were contrived to disguise what I found when I drove out there this afternoon. The place is a project. If you don’t know what a housing project is, you don’t live in the south.

           The “title” we tracked down turned out to be a quitclaim. Both the seller and buyer of that document are not parties to the advertising, so I’m steering clear. These deals are too fraught with hidden clauses, such as who is responsible for the back taxes and back maintenance. So bye-bye fancy digs, but it shows you we are right on top of the situation. We were looking for a deal when we found that one.

           Today was another six-month medical for me, I’m still radioactive but don’t worry ladies, nothing glows in the dark except my watch dial. I believe I passed everything. Even the treadmill barely winded me where before I could not make the 90 second mark. Since I know my general health is a matter of intense interest to you all, I’ll just say that I’ve lost ten percent of my weight goal in three months. Can’t tell by looking, I don’t feel any better, I’m hungry all the time, but still, ten percent.
           The batbike has passed the 10,000 mile mark with myself as the navigator. No fanfare, I’ve been using it for the longer trips around town. But it looks like I’ll be a motorcycle driver for life. Please give me the open road. I have to stick around for the med test results until the end of July. I had normally planned to be elsewhere on vacation by then. Well, I may have to take a fall trip this year due to finances anyway. This month was hundreds over budget, consisting of prescription co-pay and a new eBike battery. The cost was absorbed by my generous margins but it ripped a chunk out of my savings.

           So I came home and read Craigslist. I still get a laugh out of the guitar-player mentality in the musician’s section. All the guitarists looking for gigs. They say they are tired of “rehersing” and wanna play. That’s reasonable unless you play in a band. You got to get out there and hustle but they don’t want that part. Just the gravy. They have a lot to learn. For the next couple weeks, I’m checking out lounges, which are surprisingly rare in this area. This band has a piano, which may give us an edge.
           My most recent survey shows seven clubs that hire entertainment. It is usually on weekends and usually somebody they already know. But there are plenty of freeloaders. Those are establishments that fancy themselves clever enough to get something for nothing. They try all the oldest tricks in the book. Open mic. Blues night. Jam session. Battle of the bands. Open mics always die off in this town when the friends of the host get tired of working for free.

           Let me delve into the music expenses, something too many band members foolishly don’t track. I did what I sometimes call “inventory and reality”. Some items are estimated and need to be brought into line time to time. I harshly valued every cord and cable, everything musical I own in the world. And my expenses leapt to a reasonable figure of 49.5 cents out of every dollar that comes in. This is due to several factors, the most influential being the lack of income to pay for the outgo. A chunk of it ($350) is the Ampeg bass amp, it is too small and too unreliable. That is going to be an expensive replacement in the immediate future.
           But I’d like to see this new band produce some paying gigs first. As long as they are (and this is important, so pay attention) neither finding any gigs nor following up on any of the leads I provide, I hesitate to spend. New equipment ties up a lot of money and has to be moved, stored, and babysat. This is not the first instance of this situation with Florida musicians, the same thing happened with the Hippie. I shelled out a thousand bucks for nothing. You recall that? He’d complain he had to get all the gigs, but would refuse to commit to a gig unless it was his own. Screw that.

ADDENDUM
           My fancy dating club now officially becomes a waste of money so far. I know from experience if I don’t score in a reasonable time, just move on. I’m so unlike those guys who hang around a joint forever because they got lucky once back in their teens. Also, I know that if I’m in a room full of women where not even one reacts to my personality, they are collectively a boring lot. This is quite rare but it happens and I was surprised this dating club was such a place.
           The profiles are better than you’ll find at eHarmony, but only to the extent it takes a lot longer to spot the pattern. The men talk about what they’ve done, the women about what they want to do. The education level [of these women] is through the roof but none of them are risk-takers. Their degrees and careers have not done much for their marketability. They want the same things they did back in college. (A man smart enough to make money but dumb enough to give them control.)

           Personality seems to make little difference. I examined the other men’s profiles. Every last one of them is taller, better-looking, richer, fitter, more educated, younger-looking, harder-working, more photogenic, and more talented than I could ever be in my wildest dreams. Straighter teeth and more hair, too. Funny how few men like that exist in real life, so they must all be hiding out in that club. Unless you can think of some other explanation.
           The women have a generic pattern as well. They like wine (I hate it), they list the same nonsense about candlelit dinners, walks on the beach, sense of humor, love of travel. Yet none of them point out any places they’ve been in the past, know what I’m saying? These are the women who panic when offered exactly what they ask for. In a word, they are boring. Just as boring as the women you meet on the city bus. I’m sorry gals if any of you read this, but you are b-o-r-i-n-g.
           And I long ago made my choice between spending my life with a boring woman or taking my chances.

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June 24, 2013

           Here is a great shot of the nearby moon just after dark last night. You are supposed to be looking at the background of the moon and the galactic-like framework of clouds, admiring the quality of this shot from the iPad by an amateur photographer. Great shot, Apple. Even though Apple is suffering badly from second-generation management, they still crank out a superior product and have the right to overcharge for it because they have so little competition. The lady is a friend of a friend who came to the show. Kind of the quiet type.

           I’ll yack a little more about the gig y’day. The upside is it a classier joint than any of the old gang has ever played, except for Ray-B but as a music teacher, he’s got the edge. I mean like Cowboy Mike and the Hippie, who are stuck deep in the biker bar slash coffee house circuit by their material, their personalities, and their utter lack of ability to progress with the times.
           That last phrase might sound odd coming from a guy who plays ancient Johnny Cash, but until you’ve heard how I play it, it would be prudent to reserve judgment. I have most definitely kept up. Now, I need a new bass amp that can handle the outdoors better. I’m not investing in road gear, rather something that has more punch. In the recordings of the show, my bass is barely audible.
           We wound up playing the last stretch to an empty house, as the event was advertised to end at 9:00 PM. We were just warming up by then. Warming up is a metaphor, it was muggy hot monsoon season long after sunset. That means all but the natives found it uncomfortable. Plus, the stage, which has trees growing through it, forms a sheltered corner so there are no welcome breezes.
           JP/JZ called to report the truck is tuned up and he replaced the spark plug wires. We had it narrowed down to one but I insisted he replace the set if I’m going to pay for half of the gas when we test drive it. He is still getting the runaround about the estate and I realize now when my father died, I should have gone out and hired a lawyer on the spot. My own mother divided the cash equally between six kids before I was paid what I had been promised for all my years of work on the farm.
           This is the point where some inbred half-wit spouts off that children should work for free on the farm. That’s crap. Of six children, I was the only one required to work while the others watched TV. Also, I was promised I’d be paid and that says it all. I would not ever have done this type of work had I not been tricked into it. There were other jobs available in town which included career trades, but I was not allowed to take any. Ask the half-wit how that ever happened, and learn why he’s called what he is.
           If anything of the kind happened today, I’d be pounding on the lawyer’s door. I see the same resistance to getting help is killing my buddy. Any demands pit him not just against the situation, but against peace and quiet. It is clear JZ needs a break. We need a break. Time off from the entire scenario. He’s now got a cell phone and slowly learning to use it. So no big deal if we get out of Dodge for a few days.
           It’s also great to be back to a normal schedule. That’s what I call not having that deadline for the first performance of a new band. Regular matters should now re-emerge as the important developments, though that is not to confuse my regular with the other guy’s extraordinary. How relaxed was this morning? I inspected the scooter wiring and cheated on my bakery. I went to the Columbian joint across the tracks. It is a full service restaurant with a bakery attached, so there is no direct comparison.
           But If I was going to compare, I’d say Latin American bread is “lighter” but with more calories, carbs, and starchy flavor. It fills you up fast but doesn’t keep you energetic. (So I like the Euro style better, as opposed to Mediterranean style.) Real pumpernickel, if you can find it, is $9 per loaf.
           Pet peeve department, next four paragraphs. Don’t you hate those recycled plastic bottles that are so thin you need a countertop to open them? Because if you try to open them with your bare hands, you have to grip the bottle so hard that when the cap loosens, the pressure explodes the contents. I have no doubt that bottle was designed by someone who graduated after 1990. I know, because the last time I graduated was 1991, and I took a damn good look around me at the time. I strongly suspected I was the only person in the hall who could spell, think, and wipe my own nose.
           My standing pet peeve with MicroSoft carries on. It’s their gimp features again, where a typo wipes out 17 of my files I’m trying to save in a batch. You see, somewhere in the world there is a little retarded boy who I don’t know and will never meet. His condition is not my fault, but I’ve been paying, via taxes, his way for life so I’ve done my share. But along comes MicroSoft and their gimp features and wipes out my files. All because their ugly rich-boy ex-owner has a compulsion to prove he’s something he will never be—as good a Steve Jobs.
           I’m running short of electronic supplies and my don’t know any of the new people at Hacktronics. Prices have tripled and the big electronics sites like Mouser and DigiKey are horrifically bad choices. They need to know who builds something before they can even tell you a price. You want some red LEDs? Sorry, can’t help unless you know whether that is Fairchild, Cree, Panasonic, Lumex, or Parallax. Pick the first one, Fairchild Semiconductor. Okay, now what’s the part number? Pick, the first one. Is that red LED with a clear lens or a white LED with a red lens? Up yours, Mouser, just up yours, that’s all.
           Last, this blog readership has topped a milestone. I kind of thought that would take forever, but it didn't. No, I don't let out the information but as I've said before, if I was in print, I'd be a bestseller. This is the point where the sappy authors thank their readership. No way, Jose. I'm working the assumption that anyone who reads this blog is here out of their own self-interest, and that's how you bet your money. The blog that invites you to over-think the situation. One day I'll start advertising, this blog will be huge because it is really updated daily and really contains useful knowledge, and you'll be able to say you were with it from the word go. Self-interest. It's highly under-rated.

ADDENDUM
           No, I have not been ignoring the news about government spying on innocent people. I’ve always been against searches not based on reasonable cause, right down to preventing checkstops on the highways. The police stop everybody claiming to be after drunks. But everybody gets a shakedown, not just the drunks. Everybody is run on the computer, and if something is found, you get arrested. Oddly, some people find nothing wrong with this kind of state-run society-wide snooping. There is no place for such behavior, or such people, in a free and democratic society.
           I’ve often speculated that the Internet is due for replacement. I’ve wondered why somebody has not thought of a way to use computers as individual nodes in a new network to bypass the big, corporate mega servers that are harvesting private data. All data would be encrypted so the only way the authorities could tap a line is by identifying the individual suspect and obtaining a warrant. That’s the way it is supposed to be, folks. And judges cannot sign that warrant unless there is sufficient cause.
           Here is something called Meshnet that let’s you know I am not alone in thinking this. But I lack the skills to design it, in fact, I don’t even know where one could even learn to design it. Or I would. So, no, I am not sidestepping the Snowden affair. My silence is because I’ve already warned us plenty of times to protect your data and I cannot add anything to that just because some other guy got his name in the headlines.
           Everyone has something to hide. Those who claim they don’t are the worst. Their secret is so horrific they hope the system will bog down catching others first. The funny thing is that if you think I’m wrong about that, it is because you are not thinking at all.

June 23, 2013

           Here’s three-quarters of the new group playing on the Hollywood beachfront for the feed the animals society. It’s our first official playout and that is a milestone for any band. I have no idea who would quit after so much work, but a lot of groups never make it to that first outing. For some reason all of us are looking down except the drummer, indicated we’d just hit a particularly difficult passage. We were the last of a day full of bands and started late. Promoters rarely allow bands enough time to get their gear off stage so we started two hours late.

           Which means we inherited an exhausted and well-lubricated crowd. The band ahead of was super loud. Deafening is more like it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m an old rock player and I like loud. But not ridiculous. They had an odd format. Your typical rock band with a black lady singer who was at it all the time. She sang everything scat style without taking many breaths. Theirs was an interesting presentation.
           Alaine drove up for the show, what a sweetheart. She’s the unofficial president of my fan club. Conspicuously, JP did not make it. What a schmuck I am, I didn’t stop to think about food since I eat before I leave. Alaine sprung for snacks so I owe her a fancy dinner. It will happen, since times have obviously changed. Our music is rather specialized and every band plays differently on stage than at practice. And that is something only time can fix. I know I can only do it once I learn the signals that a drop is going to happen. In all, I rate the band a success.
           This was also some type of perigee. The Moon was closer to the Earth tonight than for 18 years. Most people would notice nothing but it was also a day after a full moon so superstition was at work on this. Alas, I had the same lousy Nikon camera that took the band picture above so I could not capture any interesting shots. Avoid Nikon, read the complaints and review before every buying from them. One bad design wrecked their reputation with me.
           The bakery is closed for annual vacation until late this week. Thursday I think. The family is visiting from Europe and wants to see the Disney Shopping Plaza in Orlando. It is erroneously called Disneyworld by those who have never seen it.
           I watched a Crackle [movie]. The thing about money, it ensures the survival of the unfittest. The worst acting lately goes to “Dummy”. The movie would be actually interesting if they dumped the whole Jewish angle, but it dominates what should have been an interesting plot. It reeks of every predictable Woody Allen cliché without the budget. I watched it because I once had the similar idea of using a dummy as a sidekick. Then I discovered bass playing.
           Don’t bother with this movie, it confuses good acting with acting Jewish—not a racist statement, watch the damn movie before forming any such opinion. Same old funny looking, insecure Jewish boy gets white girl. Covers no new ground. When it comes to that, talk about filmed on location. I cannot believe anybody in that movie ever won an Oscar, but it says so in the credits. Even if my concept of Jewish tradition is stomping on goblets and dancing in circles, I still could not identify with this movie. Not even the band.

June 22, 2013

           Happy Barbarossa Day. Bingo was mediocre, one of the major carloads did not show. That’s okay, it is really Sunday at the beach that this weekend will be all about. Proof again that there is always something to do around here. But let’s talk about the new display, shown here is the replacement being built alongside the fried unit. If you look closely, you can see the little black spot inside the damaged bulbs, another clue not mentioned by the experts.

           The LED burn-out mystery is solved. I had a battery holder from the Shack that I rigged up to supply either 6V or 12V. Guess I left it set on the higher number and forgot. The rainstorm at 7:00 AM gave me time to ponder this expensive mistake. No more dual power supplies. It is too easy and a tempting situation.
           Another lesson learned which I should have already known was my new diet causes mild dizziness. Indeed, I had been working right through a spell of when my “patient” died. But taking one’s mind off the world is what hobbies are for, and another reason I chose 5V as my standard. (Actually, it is 6V. The Americans don’t make a 5V battery to match all their components of that voltage. Duh.)
           [Author’s note: The good news is the new display was built fast. A single three-hour setting sufficed. I didn’t bother to test each stage like before. It worked right the first time, though a little dimmer as 1.5k was the only matching set of resistors I had in the cupboard. During the build I may have uncovered a way to repair some earlier less successful models I’d. Anyway, project 42 is back on track.]
           Here's the message that if you are rich, you can control the media. Taylor Swift, who still hasn’t matured enough to show up over here begging to sing for me, got an insulting t-shirt removed from the store shelves. That’s class. (And power.) Something to do with the number of boyfriends she goes through, which I understand she has to get out of her system, though she should know she’s nearing the upper limit.
           So, she joins the ranks of Justin B in managing to keep bad news away from the public. Taylor, baby, I forgive you everything. But JB, getting old is gonna be living hell on you. Still, by age 18, you still did fool the most of the world. My hero was Tommy James. He did what you did, except without being an embarrassingly stupid little prick about it.
           I decided not to decide concerning the doublewide for sale. I’m leery of people who can’t spell. Call it what you want, but it reflects a lack of personal responsibility to do things right. It results from a combination of poor education and not taking pen to hand often enough. So, when the office called today saying they would consider “privet” financing, I told them I’m not interested. Call back in September.
           There is a peculiar consistency among the uneducated, as in they all think alike. They all think dumb things, like money won’t buy happiness, contracts have to be in writing, or don’t invest because you might die tomorrow. It is always a risk to even associate with these types, they will let you down the instant they try to think. They will come up with the obvious wrong answers for everything. And they are chock full of useless homespun advice.
           Dumb people also love to spend their money on get-rich-quick schemes. You know Forex, the outfit that says they’ll sell you software that lets you cash in on foreign currency rates? They even have a teaser site where you can play with $100k in virtual money. Why don’t I try it? Because, although it works for the top 5% of players, it is a loss for all others. International money rates no longer wildly fluctuate like they did fifty years ago. Why? Because the currencies are pegged on the US dollar, not the price of gold. All countries agree to manipulate their currently to experience roughly the same degree of suffering. This smoothing effect is called “harmonization”. However, unlike Germany in the 1920s, when today’s dam bursts, the entire world will drown.
           Trivia. There are 8 states where welfare pays more than an $8 per hour job. And 7 states where it pays more than a $12 per hour job, namely Hawaii, Alaska, Massachusetts, Connecticut, DC, New York, New Jersey, Rhode Island. In 9 states, welfare pays more than the average salary of a school teacher. And 78% of resumes contain misleading information.

ADDENDUM
           My best laid plans appear to have gone awry and I’ve been the object of some finger-wagging. My three-year gamble was that house prices would continue dropping and precious metals would rise. Both appear to have been wrong. Let’s take a closer look at this before anybody gets too far into the “I told you so” loop. First of all, even if my plan never works, at least I tried. Sure, it looks like I failed—but I could have succeeded and still could succeed. It only takes a single incident to change my fortunes.
           Thus my “failure” is temporary. Those who play it safe by doing nothing? Their failure is absolutely guaranteed. The next time some jerk suggests investing isn’t a good plan, ask him (always a him) when he last balanced his checkbook. Mine is balanced after each transaction. Average household debt is something like $55,000, nearly $16,000 of it on credit cards. That means for every guy like me, there is somebody out there off talking the big talk.
           I also dispute the attitude that even if they fail, the losers had a good life and lived well during the good times. Living in a new house, driving a new car is, according to that theory, an offset to bad times in the future. I don’t believe it. I lived under a debt load early in life and there is nothing pleasurable about worrying if you can make the next payment on time. A lot of people who live that way consider debt to be normal, they sincerely don’t know of any other way to live. I call it living hell.
           Besides, did I really, really fail? Or is this just the next market correction? Can’t tell. But one thing is for sure. I don’t have to sell to pay the bills. My strategy is to protect all investments. It is still a house of cards out there and there is no telling what event will initiate the collapse. Mobile home prices have not continued to drop, but are remaining stable in Boca Raton at an average of $45,412. House prices average three times that, still not a bargain.
           But there are enormous changes from earlier years. Prices are not going up faster than I can save money. This was a feature of the 80s and 90s. It was practically impossible to buy any house without borrowing money or living in a bad neighborhood. Thus, I rented the entire time. I didn’t buy a place that “went up in value” but nor did I lock myself into a thirty year debt cycle and wind up underwater. Like 30% of the US population did. And I got a hundred bucks says that 30% includes 100% of my detractors.
           For a dose of reality, let’s look at some facts. No links, since you can do your own research on this one, but I trust StatisticBrain. There are roughly 11 million underwater homeowners and only 2.5 million houses for sale. Meaning millions are stuck. Can’t move, can’t sell, hoping they’ll live long enough to break even. Almost half of all Florida houses are underwater, and that figure would leap exponentially if banks would quit their deliberately policy of over-appraising. I know that sounds backwards but think about it. The bank wants you to keep making payments on your $250k house, so they don’t want you to know how little it is really worth.
           The word on the street is that Florida housing is being fueled by South American drug money.

June 21, 2013

           Look back at that nice picture of the nearly finished ROM device last day. Because I busted it. I opted for the built in power supply. As I twirled the last screw into place, along came the aroma of frying diodes. First the ROM diodes, seen here in a pile. I’ve gotten quite fast at replacing those, I’d say ten times faster than when I didn’t know what I was doing. But the real damage is the seven-segment display. These are notoriously difficult to manufacture. In the end, I ripped it out and will build a new one.
           What went wrong? I suspect the new power supply had greater amperage, although the total would still be tiny. It was enough to pop some diodes. Interestingly, when a regular diode is blown, it does not necessarily go bad. Instead, it conducts current backwards, returning to its function when the current drops to normal. Some LEDs but not all will exhibit this characteristic. Just long enough to cause extensive damage.
           Summer is official. I think so are announcements that the depression is over and that house prices are on the rise. My eye. Cancel my plan to attend the LAB Miami meeting this evening. First of all, a loose battery wire shorted out around half the LEDs on my ROM. And I told how the band put some of the shakier tunes on the set list for Sunday. Well, they are going to be either surprised or impressed. Because I put in thirty solid hours this week on that material.
           Particularly this one song by The Band called “The Shape I’m In”. Sounds like a nothing tune, I know that I pretty much ignored it even back when it was a hit. Let me tell you, the bass player of that band was smoking something that day. He is actually able to fit three quarter notes into a four note measure and keep going. Took me a day to figure out why nothing I did sounded right. But, I got it.
           I take extra care to play covers note for note except where some guitarist gets on the bass and riffs off. There is not one such tune on my personal lists because it that style sounds bad to me. Then again, I’m the guy that cannot name one Michael Jackson song. To me, the Blues is BB King and, you know, those other guys. At the same time, I take great care to capture the bass passing notes.
           My hero, Johnny Cash, taught me the importance of that. He uses them not to signal chord changes, but as riffs themselves. Carol Kaye taught me perfect timing; Johnny Cash showed me how to mess that timing up in just the right way. The first thing you would notice about my playing is presentation. I don’t look or act like a bassist, most of whom stand there and get taken for granted. In my case, you’ll see people spin around in their chairs to look because they know something is different, but what? Since I cannot show off nor do anything that detracts from the rest of the band, I opt for delivery.
           You are actually hearing a double whammy that invites you in to listen to the music in a way you likely never did before. I think it is because I never play any filler. Never. Every note has to contribute something. From this, strangers are able to regularly guess what I was going to play next by the first couple bass notes. This is something normally associated only with guitar music. That’s whammy one. The second is, and a lot of people don’t understand this, I don’t play loud. This new band said that the first few rehearsals until they caught on what I was doing. Now they describe my sound as “crisp”. And remember, I won out over a ton of locals.
           Yes, I video and study my moves and you might say so what because lots of guitarist do that. The difference is, I purposely never watch what other bassists do or copy them in any way. You don’t get unique watching other people’s moves. I’m as ready as I can be for Sunday. With its 40% chance of rain.
           I’ve essentially decided against purchasing the doublewide. The damage is too extensive to sink money into unless one plans to live there a very long time. Like twenty years. This trailer park won’t be here that long unless they throw out the entire management team and start over. Newcomers are not replacing the oldsters who are dying off. And the dopes in the office don’t have any game plan except to annually raise the lot rent hoping to stave off bankruptcy and keep their jobs one more season. Typical Florida mentality.
           If it was my park, I’d buy a tow truck and a pilot car. Then I scout around Florida for these mobile homes that have to be moved. Read Craigslist, you’ll see them for sale at tremendous bargains. Then start at one end of this property and begin replacing the oldest units. Next, rent to 55+ only. If you count the number of empty pads over the year and calculate the total income at full occupancy, you could rent beautiful places out for $650 per month, or about half the going rate for houses in the area. At that price, you’d have people lined up down the block to get in.
           Trivia. Here’s NeverWet from Rustoleum. I’ve sent a memo to the club to purchase an experimental sample. How long does it last? How durable is it on moving parts. It isn’t cheap, it’s around $20 bucks. If you don’t have a minute to watch the video, no you can’t use it on glass because it dries “frosty”.

ADDENEDUM
           Think back to last Saturday the 15th, where I talked about all the famous women explorers throughout history. Who will remain nameless because, um, well, just because. I mentioned the prerequisite for becoming an explorer was having “oodles and oodles” of money. Stop and think about that redundant phrase. When was the last time you saw it written down? That’s because it is easier said than done, so to speak. (That’s a little joke, Ken. Get it? So-to-speak. No?) Anyway, what are the odds you’ll ever see it in writing again? Pretty close to zero.

June 20, 2013

           Here is the place I’m looking at. The largest unit in the park. They are reluctant to sell it to me as it is well known I am looking to buy up in Boca. They want somebody long term since this court, like all in the area, is dying at precisely the same rate as the retired French Canadians. That front area is all parking, there is no room left for a yard as all the pads in this complex are the same size. And once again it seems of all the “offers” they’ve got, I’m the only one with the cash. More about this place below.
           We cannot get any readier for Sunday. I’m spending so much time [at home] on it that I’m getting cabin fever. Little things become important. Example. Why are those European loaves of bread so popular here in the trailer? Take a closer look at those small, round loaves. Now imagine the shape of that same loaf after it is run through the [rather noisy] slicing machine. Picture in your mind’s eye the pattern. Got it? Okay. The smaller end cuts are perfect for the eentsiest snack; while the center slices are ideal for the late night half-sandwich, and you can slap my back for that keen observation.
           I’ve put the word out for the Sunday benefit and I think a lot of my fan club may show up. They’ve never seen me except in my own band so this is a first. Alaine is driving up from Miami and I know my duet partner will be there. This new band is great on vocals, so I’m made curious why the set list they made up features so much guitar music. It’s not unusual to see that but I don’t think it is the band’s strongest material.
           Silver took a dive, heading for that predicted low of $19. What is going on? My guess is panic selling, let me elaborate on how that highly underrated factor works. It is not like somebody has a ton of silver buried and decides it will irretrievably fall in value. What is far more likely is some idiot bought it recently banking it would go up. That is the difference between the rich and the poor. The rich know how to protect their investments. The poor continually have “emergencies” that require every last cent they can lay their grimy paws on.
           When I said underrated (last paragraph) I mean that panic is a major influence on price that gets overlooked by those who study the topic. I can read a chart or graph as easy as the next guy, but the largest single power on the market is the gullibility and short-sightedness of the masses. A few billionaires don’t drive the economy anything like Joe Shmoe with his half-baked whims and bad instincts. The price is falling simply because people who bought at $21 thinking it would climb back to $31 are panic selling exactly one month later. For emergencies. Here are 17 brand new ounces I picked up at the lowest price yet. It’s been nearly a quarter [year] since that quantity of one-ounce bars has been available in this town.
           Upon very close inspection, the new larger mobile home I was looking at has major problems. The floor has been patched under the carpeting, spelling termite damage. The water doesn’t run in the tub, plumbing issues. No air in the huge dining and living rooms and no place to cut a hole in the wall. But the bedrooms are huge, almost too big. Sixteen foot on a side, with walk-in closets. Inside, everything is full size, no impression of living in a trailer. I will have to think about this one. Give it a week, see if somebody else bites and if not, throw in a low-ball offer.

June 19, 2013

           Indoors, the place to be in the summertime. To relax, and these are hectic days, I wired up the keyboard on the ROM project (Project 42). Here it is, pretty near the final stage. Not shown is a battery supply since I can’t decide whether to put one (literally) on-board or not. The setup has a tolerance from 6 to 9 volts and works perfectly as designed. Not so perfectly where not designed. Shown here, for instance is one of the “keys” that is particularly sticky.

           Less obvious is the way the device is sectionalized. The three parts are easy to see. The switches, the ROM, and the display. As a programmer, I took to this modular arrangement without conscious planning. In fact, I don’t think I could have conceived it any other way. It was probably more difficult to build this way for it caused many surprises.
           We [probably] take it for granted all the basic components are of similar size and weight, and to some degree, shape. Fortunately, and it took me a while, this imposes a certain standardization on every design. There is nothing complicated about my apparatus, in fact, it is largely clever wiring. I found the correct ratio for reading to building is three hours bookwork for one hour labwork. Sorry, no shortcuts. Expect delays that would be ridiculous under other circumstances.
           We are not finished. This is merely the prototype. The idea is to produce a kit and there are few concessions in this model for that. All effort went into making something that worked. Result, far too many different parts and wires. For a while, this now sits on the back burner. I don’t have the tools to build the kit. Like my Arduino, it is meant to interface with the physical world. But I can’t yet build anything to connect it with.
           You know life would be so much easier if one didn’t keep running across those peckerheads to just don’t know when something is none of their business. We have one of them in the office of this trailer court. He is so dumb he can’t figure out the connection between his big mouth and his bad luck. I’m thinking of his eventual fate as I now direct your attention to a similar situation not so long ago.
           It is now official. The old trailer court on 3rd is bankrupt. The city finally came by and sealed off the property, which has been abandoned for nearly a year. I cannot claim I was the principle factor, but I know that I cost them two and a half years. And in war and real estate, all delays are dangerous. I know more than I’m letting on, but I can say my old trailer sat there in the middle of that development for years before they finally got a permit to demolish it – smack in the middle of the real estate bust.
           Other than a morning trip to the bakery, I stayed put. There’s plenty to do here, including repair the marker lights on the scooter, some painting, and check the vehicle fluids. Spray the weeds, mop the floor, practice music, who could ask for anything more? For those who don’t know, Florida bakes in the summer. That means I’m not out there in the yard more than a few minutes at a time. It only sounds like I was busy on the property all day. Nope. Most of the time is here in the shade indoors on the east side of the building.
           And that’s everything worth noting today. How did your Wednesday compare?
           [Author's note: in fairness and my own defense, I never meant that trailer court should go bankrupt and there must have been severe other shortages. I only wanted to teach them a lesson, but if that was the straw that broke the camel's back, it was their fault.]

ADDENDUM
           I had to cancel a visit to Miami to learn some music before the weekend. I won’t outright criticize my new band because they are the best I’m going to find in this town. But there are stark contrasts in our completely polarized manners of thinking. That’s sad because we’ve all been through fundamentally the same meat grinder and yet opposing lessons were learned. Let me list a few, but get it through your head that I’m not saying anyone is right or wrong.
           • I say we do freebies only for places that already have a hall, a crowd, and the potential for great tips. Why are we playing for some animal society at a hotel on the beach instead? Opposite thinking at work on this one.
           • These guys know they have a pro bass player unlike any other in this area, yet they chose tunes with the weakest possible bass lines to play on our opening night. Instead of hitting them with “Spooky”, they opt for obscure Smoky Robinson, and tunes like “Pipeline” that showcase only the guitar. Wrong move.
           • It’s a promo gig, we should do nothing but fast material to fire up the crowd. Nope, they want to play our slowest, draggiest “funeral tunes”. Thinking the audience will “get in the groove” has never worked right. The only thing that brand of thinking does is get us remembered as just the next band.
           • These guys scare me when they come up with “ideas” like throwing a free BBQ in the park. That costs a lot of money. But they won’t pay an agent who will find us work measured in the thousands of dollars. I’ve learned. Others have not learned.
           • For all the talk of new blood and fresh ideas, bands are dinosaurs. This one is no different on that count. Not one of the ideas I’ve suggested has been even considered. Strange, since my ideas all work. But I’m the new guy, so we sit on our haunches.

Now don’t conclude there is some active conspiracy to shaft the new guy. In fact, this ossified and recalcitrant behavior is highly normal for most bands. They cling to past glories, hoping for a repeat where they should be working for a change. My song lists have never lasted a year, much less decades like some. I’ve learned that t-shirts, CDs, and festivals in the park are 1980 notions that have no place today. I’ve learned to play individual hit tunes in preference to any one style of music or any one band. I stay away from slow music, especially the druggie rock and the boozie blues.
           These are not minor theoretical variations. These represent completely contradictory concepts that cannot co-exist on stage. Who is right? I don’t know. It follows that I naturally believe I am the one who progressed [while others did not] for two very simple reasons.
           One: the time line. I thought like the other guys did way back when I was a kid. But there is no way they can even pretend that in the distant past they ever thought the way I do now. I didn’t even like country music until a few years ago. Few of them could report such changes.
           Two, proof. I have proof. People saw me get those hundred-dollar bills in my tip jar. I have videos of myself doing everything I say. My students will testify how I got them on stage in six weeks. You don’t have to agree with me to know the difference between talk and action. Nothing drains me faster than listening to some old guitar player spew out “ideas” that have never worked in living memory. Get a bunch of teenager beginners in a room, and you'll hear the same tired, unimaginative words. When they start talking about tacking dance posters on telephone poles, time to move on.

June 18, 2013

           Ever one to try new things, here is a bottle of Naked brand juice. From the book store coffee shop. Looks funny and tastes like apple-pineapple. Not bad but at $4 a shot, not destined for my larder. The other ingredients, read the chart, include broccoli, spinach, barley grass, spirulina (pond scum), and blue-green algae. The label cautions to keep refrigerated both before and after opening. Because, let’s face it, you never can tell what might start growing in there.
           The feds have overruled Arizona again. They are not allowed to check for American citizenship before letting people vote. I have no idea what ulterior motive has infused the central government. Where do they even find people who would object to this on any grounds. It seems a small number who didn’t have driver’s licenses or passports were excluded and DC is using that as an excuse to quash the state law. It boils down to allowing illegal immigrants to vote themselves citizenship and benefits. Short-sightedness to the extreme.
           Once again, another fake investment agency is shut down, this time two Hispanics running a silver investment scam. Collecting money to buy and store silver, but using it to make up for lost time. Took some oldsters they did for $2 million. Which is not all that much, and you know, if they had not printed up phony statements saying the precious metal was bought and stored, they could have gotten off by saying all the spent money was valid business expenses. The sad part is one will turn on the other when subjected to legalized blackma… what? Oops, I meant plea bargaining.
           [Author's note 2014-06-18: this was an amazing post when you consider it contains all of the revelations eventually attributed to a "spy". I don't work for the government, which proves most any man on the street can figure out what the bureaucrats in DC are up to. This country has been taken over by non-elected idiots who put us all to shame.]
           In a truly disgusting spectacle of after-you’ve-been-caught lame smooth-talk, we have this year’s complete moron. Keith Alexander, the head of NSA. Am I worried about criticizing his stupidity? Nope, even if he 7822’s me, it will just bring me the one thing I crave: good publicity. Alexander gets the booby prize for worst performance trying to lie his way out of the domestic spying scandal. Claims it prevented 50 events, but that is little more than his confession that he can’t do his job without invading privacy. But, as usual, these Neanderthal-looking idiots totally miss the point.

           Allow me to spell it out for you, General. The issue is NOT terrorist plots. Quit trying to change the subject. The concern is that government departments NEVER limit their use of the technology only for good. The Constitution makes it clear that all policing activity must be based on reasonable grounds. Spying on people and covertly reading their mail does not fall into that category and you are liar for saying it does. People act differently when there is an expectation of privacy and you, soldier boy with all your gleaming medals, and your ilk have an ape-like brain wiring which prevents you from ever understanding that.
           The issue is that you and your kind will never stop invading privacy once the original cause is gone. Bureaucracy feeds on itself, and you are nothing but another damn bureaucrat. You should be ashamed to call yourself American for you certainly know nothing about the freedoms you pretend to be defending. The danger is when you turn the technology away from criminals and onto ordinary people. Madmen given power never know when to quit. Sorry, you loathsome dunce, but I remember when a driver’s license was a license to drive and nothing more.
           That’s today’s quota of controversy. Any cutsie who says he doesn’t mind illegal surveillance because he has nothing to hide should go out and get something. Having nothing to hide is the very definition of useless bastard. Only a fool gives up a right just because he isn’t personally using it at the moment. My personal stance on the matter is that while America should be defended, we don’t need people breaking the law to do so. Nobody could both invade and hold America ransom, there are too many guns.
           Want to free North Korea? Fly over the countryside at night and drop just enough guns and army food for two months. We need army types that think like that instead of electronically enslaving their own population after swearing under oath to protect them.

ADDENDUM
           What is different about this shoelace pack that everybody in the room here can tell except you? No, it isn’t that I make my own aglets from electrical shrink tubes. They are the standard color and size, six pairs for a buck. Give up? Keep reading. People have gotten rich on pet rocks and here is another dumb idea. I can sell you this for $2. I don’t want to set up a factory for my great-grandkids to bankrupt in the future, but I’d like to sell 50,000 pairs really fast. Still don’t see it?
           That’s because you can’t see it. I tricked you. But there is a unique thing about this product discovered by accident. And what is this modern world if we don’t include accidental discoveries. Phosphorus was found by a guy boiling his own pee to change lead into gold, you know. This is an impulse item.
           DeeDee was in for coffee and I walked to the Bodega to pay the electric bill. There was a bottle of fluid that said it promised all kinds of alluring mystery and relaxation, so I bought one for the lass. But it said no skin contact, so when she wanted to sample the aroma, I poured it on some shoelaces and why not? Wow, what a concept. Feng Shui shoelaces. It’s as pleasant as it is unexpected.
           Don’t laugh. I’ve seen scented toilet tissue. And scented toilet tissue rolls and tubes and you don’t laugh. The bottle scent is made in Medley, FL, and is probably five times stronger than necessary. It should last, since people don’t normally wash their shoelaces (most gym shoes use other fasteners), and the concept of a fresh smell when you least expect it probably has merit in a lot of circles.
           So, we brainstormed for an hour. Athlete’s foot? Or a bubble-gum scent for kids, maybe baby powder scent for them little bootie thingees. As usual, my idea is not to go into business selling things. Heaven’s no; that is too much like work. I laugh at “self-employed” people (like drywallers) who profess to own a business but only bought themselves a job.
           My plan is to build the prototype and market the idea, turning a fast buck before the competition has time to react. What happens if somebody copies my idea from this blog? No offense or at least very little, but that will be the day. There's a better chance of someone like Keith Alexander admitting he was wrong.
           [Author's note: that is worded funny. My plan is always to make a fast dollar, so this post should not be taken to mean I meant for this idea alone. Most ideas are stolen, but only a few of the thieves turn them into money.]