September 30, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 30, 2013, choo-choo train.
Five years ago today: September 30, 2009, Autumn leaves of leather.
Ten years ago today: September 30, 2004, Tacoma, WA

MORNING
           A good way to end the month is with some incoming new knowledge? Up for it? Good. I looked at the history and development of navigational plotting tools. The simplest tools remain the best, and I’ve learned they are correctly called the ruler, the divider, and the protractor. Odd, none of my three texts gave any good advice on how to find quality. The instruments I’ll invest in are the divider and protractor, both specially developed for navigation by Weems and Plath.

           Initially, the divider is more important. The recommended style is called a “speed bow”, shown here. The unit comes with either metal or lead tips. These [dividers] hold their position due to the thumbwheel shown on the threaded crossbar near the pivot. The term speed bow derives from the fact you can spread or compress the tips by hand, overriding the gear mechanism. I recall seeing a used pair for sale up at Sailorman for $15.00. Note these are 8” long, much handier than the smaller type found in “math sets”.
           Following on from the discussions last evening, you might say both “basses” need to be covered. The new band and the old band. In the first instance, I must attend the new band audition even if it really is not my brand of country.
           Trent and I discussed the possibilities and we cannot discount that the “must play” tunes they sent me represents some kind of wish list on their part. It is mostly show music, not dance music. And a little too new country for my taste, sort of the music I’d expect to hear when some itinerant jazz-rock fusion guitar chunker discovers it sells.
           Prime example is the tune “Later On” by the Swon (not Swan, guys) Brothers. Strung together out of existing licks, the lyrics barely match the music, but this is on the list. And “My Kinda Party” by Jason Aldean is a direct rip-off of something or other. Still, I would not forgive myself if I don’t give it my best shot. I will say after listening to the list that a four piece group will have trouble with most of these studio production numbers. If so, that is where my “layered” bass playing can really make a difference.
           As for the old band, you can never have enough contingency plans in Florida. I would relinquish my bass role to Trent, who is fully aware of how quickly some guitarists catch on to bass once they break through the aura of myths that surround that instrument. I’m to pick eight or ten tunes and see if we can’t run them past a coffee house or two. And one thing we’d have going for us that is lacking elsewhere is goal congruency.

           Interesting side topic. You know how I feel the government will never change the antiquated tax laws for something fairer because they’d be giving up too much power to do so? Trent and a lot of others feel the same about the cell phone system. I mean, how else do you get the majority of people to willingly carry around a tracking device that records all their conversations? And Trent and I are not even radicals much less conspiracy theorists. And don’t even mention the postal system or the Internet.
           Trivia. Trent pointed out the original concept of snooping on people’s mail came from Benjamin Franklin. Old Ben knew well that intellectuals have such darn interesting correspondence.

NOON

           Should I make the leap to a five-string bass? I’ve long toyed with the idea of an added low B string and today I saw a ¾ size unit with just that. I tried it out, at least to the extent Guitar Center will allow unless you play their limp-wrist style of bozo bass. (I jammed along to the overhead music, a semi-country tune; the guy from the guitar section changed the overhead music before I could do it again.)
           This small bass has five strings packed into the space of four, though it is a wider than usual regular neck. The unit weighs almost nothing, less than my Longhorn. I think it is likely meant for a child’s first bass—but keep in mind electric bass is entirely magnetic waves, so the hardware makes very little difference. I had such a bass in the 80s which I used to take with me to Thailand in the overhead.
           The ESP has the same feel as an Ibanez. I tried other basses as were on sale, but between fret buzz and sheer pressure needed to center the notes, no way. Fender, who make great guitars, have never made a bass that meets my standards. And they all have neck-dive. I’ve got the price on the ESP down to $160 and intend to buy it tomorrow. They retail for about $250, so I’ll be trying a new instrument for very little investment.
           I looked at a three bedroom in fairly good shape, but alas it was too close to the ‘hood. (The house was okay, but due to the presence of a man-made lake, you had to drive through bad areas to get there.) I draw the line when real estate people are not allowed to state whether the neighborhood is good or bad. There are ignoramuses in DC who still think you are going to be less prejudiced if you drive out there for a look. And see all the new cars on the block have temp tags and all the old cars are up on blocks.

EVENING
           You want drama? Okay. This post is one I may have trouble with, but let the future sweat about it. Tonight, I drove out to Nova to discover two pieces of information relevant to the way to the way I look at those meet-ups. It is recorded fact that I warned long ago concerning the risk of having the 3D printer in the possession of one member. Well, here is a photo of the guy they let control the printer--our former meet-up coordinator, read on.

           Well, piece of information number one: the guy left town with no notice and took his 3D printer with him. He never did allow anyone else access to the printer and printed only what he saw fit. The solitary item he ever printed for the group was the robot finger that I insisted on three months ago. He’s gone, and so is the finger. Well, he can keep that finger, because guys like that need one.
           Mean, you say? Wait until you hear the second thing I found out. It was not just chance that the meetings were disorganized bull sessions except for the small inner core who sat at my table. I was not the only one dissatisfied at the endless talk and no action. The scant meeting of 4 members tonight proves that. We have lost the interest of 12/15ths of our original people.

           Two months ago I put forward at one meetup that Nova was “a unique university in not supporting independent public research teams” like us. I asked why they provided us no lab or funding, and why had not our “leader” approached them for these things? Well, turns out the connection with Nova was mostly a manipulation. The guy was distantly acquainted or related to some minor faculty member and had wrangled a meeting room knowing darn well the public would connect it with a Nova venture.
           Piece of information number two: I find out the “leader” who quit “did not like [me] at all”. Well no shit, now that the truth comes out, I was asking the “wrong” questions from day one. It turns out the guy wanted a formless group who would eventually become chums, retire to the campus bar and "talk about robots". Funny, that was never made clear to me or anyone else who spent many hours driving to and from these sessions. Even the robot hand we began in June was, if you recall, at my insistence that we vote on it.
           And I see now that my "show of hands" tactic must have got his goat. Good. He was using the Nova name as a draw, and we fell for it. I was continually asking why there were never any Nova engineers or software techs in the group, why no upper contacts with Nova staff, why no access to proper equipment? Why never any visiting Nova personnel except the pharaonic security guards who swung by to lock up a 1700 prompt? (One arrived tonight and drew up the projector screen left down by the previous meeting because we were not scheduled to use it. Said so on his printout.)
           Tell you what, I’m not going to explode. So Mr. Free Format doesn’t like me. I won’t go into how this is not the first time some smug post-grad bookworm found out I was far more educated than he could ever hope to be. I won’t say I hope that fact stuck in his craw, a fat and shapeless craw. Leader, my eye! His type hold back progress. No wonder he hates organized people like me. But I won't say anything, I'll let history draw its own conclusions. I mean, just because he wasted the entire group's time for eight months is no reason label him a stupid nobody, is it?
           Now it makes sense why he nearly blew a gasket when I suggested we take a “skills inventory” last May. Tonight I moved we re-locate off that useless Nova campus (and their constant interruptions), we charge $5 membership per month, we get a coffee maker, and take up a collection for materials. Plus, each meet-up, one member provide a ten-minute informational presentation.

ADDENDUM
           I don’t believe in Sputnik. The Soviets certainly launched the first satellite, but this did not “put them ahead”. The US had the top German scientists working for 12 years when Sputnik was launched in 1957 and there was huge fear of a “nuclear Pearl Harbor”. But rockets are expensive business, so you need an incident to fire up the American public. There is little doubt the engineering and technology already existed in Huntsville, Alabama. What’s missing was the incentive.
           Sputnik was a polished ball of aluminum with a radio beeper. It didn’t even beep in code and went dead in couple of weeks. But the US military knew very well how the American mass media behaves when given something to whine about. Note I did not say the news, but mass media with political agendas, got that New York Times?
           I suggest the US allowed the Soviets to launch a nothing satellite to stir up passion for the upcoming US spy satellite program. Follow my logic here. In those days outer space was not defined. Flying over enemy territory was an excellent way to start wars. What better way to get the enemy to agree to overflights than to let him think he is ahead? Nothing new in my point of view, I’m just saying I don’t buy into the Sputnik hype. And neither did most Russians—many were surprised at the American reaction.

           Here is the “all-American” rocket team. (The guy you are looking for is wearing a handkerchief.) Except for four Americans, guys were Germans and they were heading for Mars. Try as they may, the pundits of political correctness will never find in this photo the “feminists, Ethiopians, and hobos” they desperately claim are necessary for diversity. I wonder why that is?
           What I got most from Sputnik was the concept “independent amateur confirmation”. The Soviets understood the importance of this group in case of official government denials. Mind you, don’t think amateur means uninformed. Take our amateur robotics club. Maybe we can’t “launch” anything, but just let the world try to fool us now.

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September 29, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 29, 2013, whatever
happened to Decentral?
Five years ago today: September 29, 2009, immigrate to Mars?
Ten years ago today: September 29, 2004, 1952? Are you sure?

           Have you ever heard of Dal Tadka? I thought he was the president of Nigeria. It is a world famous recipe that most of my crowd has never heard of. It’s a dish of spicy lentils, and in my quest for foods without American additives, I tried this. Thinking it was thick soup. It is actually a main vegetarian dish. Like all eastern food, taste it before you add any salt. Over time living in a hot climate, I never did gain a palate for really fiery spices, so this one is pleasantly mild. Try it and tell them I sent you. There is another kind with tomatoes that I’m not crazy about.

           I joined Meet-Up to be able to exchange messages with the robot sessions at Nova. In a sense, it was a dumb move. Very few web sites are only what they appear or claim to be. Since then, I have been flooded with junk mail and unrequested “invitations” that contain the name I wisely gave them instead of my own. And as far as a common site for attendees, the Meet-Up system is extremely difficult to use for chats, e-mail, or posting notices.

           Why Nova? Because it would seem they changed the robot meetup from last Thursday to first Tuesday. And it is a good thing I checked the bulletin board for no apparent reason. They did not contact the membership in any other way. That’s the new way to do things—get on a system that sooner or later locks out anybody who doesn’t want it, so they either comply or do without. That’s your real definition of “social media”.
           So I may not have missed the September meeting after all. While most other invitations are crappy profile attempts (like I would join a group of random strangers who want to “talk about what is important to them”), there are some laughable spots. Like a group that gets together to write solid computer code, then you find out SOLID is an acronym. Or how to build an “engaging” blog on Wordpress. (Thank you, this blog is infinitely more engaging than 99% of Wordpress and you can check that for yourself.)
           I confirmed my attendance, but then, I didn’t even know the last meeting was even cancelled. I posted a snarky comment about how some people change things at the last moment and presume everybody got the memo. And they did so by using a phone that was smarter than they are. And reminded them how often existing services have been canceled under the banner of “innovation” and of how well that process has worked for everyone in the past.
           Apps encourage the disorganized to change things at the last moment just because they can. That’s this morning’s clever anecdote, served up with Dal Tadka. Did you know he played soccer in college?

NOON
           I’m out real electric service until Wednesday. This means the evening off, maybe I’ll give Trent a call. Remember the playboy bunnies last time around? We'll meet up there, of course. I went on to look at other Meet-up offerings, it is a pity they don’t break the groups down by age and sex. It seems someone is raiding the neighborhood electric panels for the $8 fuses. They replace it with cheaper models so nothing gets noticed right away. And when I say somebody, there is no need to break down that group by age and sex. Just walk across Dixie and see for yourself.

           This funny-looking contraption is an 11-point divider. That’s the proper term for what I was calling a compass. The pivot point plus 10 more for marking off even degrees of longitude. The basics are a protractor, a divider, and some way of making parallel lines, such as a set of hinged rulers. Plastic is everywhere dominates, even the better outlets. Tools of decent quality seem to run around $40 each
           I found another great property for renovation, but it is in the wrong part of town. Or I mean, just on the northern edge right now, but that frontier has been moving northward around ten blocks per year as people flee the Cu . . . the situation in Miami. Even as a rental unit, such properties are never really carefree. But at $43,000, the price is right.

EVENING
           So, I did some studies on navigational tools and discovered the reason behind GPS. It had it’s origins in the 1910s, when the only way for airplanes to fly across [open] water was a “small armada” of ships placed along the routes with beacons. Another motive was, as I now know, celestial navigation takes time and you don’t have that in fast airplanes and faster spacecraft. Stand by while I learn what there is on the topic and I’ll report back here.

           Two important developments this night. One is the eBike prototype, the SuperBike. Here is your unique first look at the future. This bike—and I highly question the wisdom of ever doing so—will quickly leap to 80 - 85 mph (on the shop bench). And it can really get up there. I’ll point out a few innovations.
           Obviously, the light weight frame. It at this time sits up too high because of the shock absorber coil below the seat post. When that is replaced, the seat will be lower and the front forks will jut forward at 38°.
           The battery pack (lithium) is just below the handlebars. This is for the prototype only. The real McCoy is that rear hub, you can see the Tesla motor. Right now, it has seven gears, but at the predicted speeds, three will be plenty (Low, Medium, High). The yellow disk is only on one side of the double tire’d rim. That is not a fat rear tire, it is two regular tires in tandem. If one pops, the bike is fully controllable to a stop on one tire.
           If you could see the opposite side of the yellow disk, formerly a stop sign, you’d see a fine and intricate set of home-made spokes and say, “That has robot club written all over it.” The rear fork assembly is custom-made, the front forks are from a Yamaha scooter. The frame is entirely aluminum but the overall weight of the bicycle is, for now, “very heavy”. Most people, including myself, would not be able to pick it up easily. This unit is serious transportation.
           As a prototype, this bike in unique, but if it works, chances are the club will step in with better funding. The plan for advertising is to take two of the bikes on a tour up the trail via central Florida. They allow and encourage electric bikes. That rule was made long before they ever saw electric bikes like this. The major problem is the range of the batteries. The bike is designed to run several hundred miles per day, if there is enough power available.
           The other event of note was Trent and I meeting up at the ROK-BRGR again, this time to mull over the emergent concept of him playing bass. I've often said I could teach the technique and me on guitar would finally prove that I can do what I've been saying a rhythm guitarist should. The plan, decided over a few drinks of "Purple Haze", a brewed beer with raspberries, is to pick a set of sample tunes we already know. The selection has been faithfully preserved on the computer files here. Watch for some movement in that direction shortly. Like tomorrow, maybe.

September 28, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 28, 2013, a mystery photo.
Five years ago today: September 28, 2009, a coincidental band?
"Whiskey River". Hmmmm.
Ten years ago today: September 28, 2004, grapefruit salad?

MORNING
           This isn't a crop circle. It’s a protest symbol against genetically modified food. I did some luxury shopping this morning. Why not? I’ve learned to read the labels critically. What is sugar-free? It probably means the product contains corn syrup, which is the most common modified of foods. I’ve now taken tomato soup off my diet, the way I ate the most common vegetable. And I still have trouble considering cottonseed oil and rapeseed oil (Canola oil, which is poisonous) as “vegetables”.

           Today will be a research and study day, much of it at the Panera, with its free refills. I’ve no power yet, but remember, I was raised without electricity and it is just not that much of a problem as for others. Mind you, most of the tools, instruments, and scientific gear in my place is electrical, so it’s not like I don’t appreciate electrons.
           For those who persist otherwise, there are no such things as alient crop circles. They are totally a hoax. Same with Loch Ness, the Sasquatch, the Yeti, and and the honest politician.

NOON
           Now don’t be calling this the Panera Report just because I was up there. For starters, I only go there on weekends there are football games on TV. That’s the only time the joint isn’t full of old buggers with their whiskey voices and big plans. You know, like opening pizza parlors when you are, what, 66 years old or something. What I was doing there was celestial navigation. I could not find a movie that was certain to be more entertaining than a page of calculations, so that explains that.

           Here is my first successful plot, but not entirely successful. I came within 27nm (nautical miles) of my DR (dead reckoning) position, so I’m still afloat in the water, to coin a phrase. Shown here is my work and I’ll go over the major mistakes. I forgot to turn the chart upside down for southern hemisphere work. I did not have an 18” ruler. My compasses are the wrong kind.
           Still, my first chart from calculated data was this single LOP (line of position, the dark nearly vertical line) that was 0.3nm T (toward) the sun at N92°W or Azimuth 268°04’. My major conclusion is that I’ll need much finer plotting instruments. This will include silicon erasers that don’t smudge. A top quality pencil sharpener. And metal or at least better rulers and protractors.
           Are these tools needed? Not really, as you see I got decent results here. But it is a pity to study precision calculations for nearly three months then to have errors introduced at the final stage. Such as refraction through the thick plastic of my blue plastic protractor. Or compasses so short it is diabolical to set them for tenths of degrees. Not only will the tools be expensive, so will be carrying, storing, and maintaining the things. I'm afraid to ask how expensive.

EVENING
           Working with my new camera, here is some modern art, no apologies to Andy W. This is a little composition I call, “Mailbox, Barometer, and Wheaties”. How’s that for original? See, I knew you’d like it. Now, if I was “with it” Internet-wise, I’d put about that this was a rare picture. I would put in the title “full version” and tell people it would blow their mind. But actually, it is just a photo of what it says. I’ll call it my “realist” movement. Such interplay of colors, such balance and perspective. And that vinyl siding, you talk about Americana.

           The next thing I did was sit down with a jar of ice cold Bavarian sauerkraut and ponder why my new digital camera even took this picture while I was carrying groceries inside. But then, when I think of how the Internet makes everyone famous for 15 milliseconds or when they get arrested whichever happens first, I thought, why not? Maybe there is some mysterious significance behind it.
           That’s for the next generation to decide as they grow old paying off their student loans. Then again, I’m one to talk. It took me until I was 36 and I had the fanciest job available, the highest paying job you could get with a single degree (at the time I was hired). And Bavarian sauerkraut has a little white wine added to the mix. It is supposed to be used to simmer sausage but I like it right out of the jar. Not in a can, that imparts a taste. A glass jar. If you can’t taste the wine after you finish, then it is out of a can.

ADDENDUM
           Phones, privacy, and how things really work for now.
           I’ve also decided my view on how the authorities unconstitutionally invade privacy should have a name. Particularly, telephone communications, which people falsely feel is more secure. All calls are monitored for keywords. For anyone who doesn’t recall my theory, it is that rather than gather targeted direct evidence which requires a warrant, the authorities sift through data and then use the information to lie in wait. Hence my chosen name: “Bushwhacking”.
           The role of admissible evidence is meant to prevent mass surveillance by insisting on a warrant which must describe what is being sought via individual searches. By watching societies instead of individuals, the authorities are not seeking evidence. After all, evidence can be argued with.
           Despite their mandate to prevent crime, it is more to the police’s liking to allow the crime to commence and then swoop in. To lie in wait for others is bushwhacking whether or not they eventually turn out to be criminals or bishops.

           [Author's note 2023: Google has quit supporting some of the older picture formats. Without notice. Instead, here is a picture from around the same time of a college babe, back when such things were common.]

           My dislike is that such a system wastes countless dollars chasing small fry while the real criminals get away. Real criminals don't use ordinary phones and e-mail. They know better. They know full well modern police are pretty clueless unless they can break into your privacy somehow. There’s a reason billionaires live behind huge walls.
           Also be aware that the police regularly set up false warrants and searches to look for or locate information that would not qualify under the "reasonable probability" clause. This is one reason police love roadside stops. They've got you off guard. They know you don't know your rights, but feel vulnerable and will consent to most anything if they convince you they'll let you go.
           You should read the warrant, because it describes what the police can look for. But if you don’t know what they are authorized to look for, you can bet your ass they will conduct a far more invasive search.
           Here is a sample text of the Property section of a warrant:

Description of Property Sought to be Searched for and Seized:
Drugs and drug paraphernalia, to wit: cocaine, crack cocaine, marihuana, heroin, amphetamines, any derivatives thereof, packaging materials, scales, and other devices used for the preparation, sale, and administration of said drugs and any United States currency, recording and monitoring devices used in the facilitation of drug transactions, any weapons used or maintained for the protection of said unlawful enterprise together with any books, records, receipts, bank statements, utility bills, tax records evidencing the acquisition, concealment, transfer and sale of drugs and narcotics and the person of Larry Crum, the single family residence described above, any persons who may be found at said residence, as well as any contraband described herein that may be found in the aforementioned motor vehicles, garage, white metal tool shed, or any place within the curtilage of said residence.

           It does not say they can seize your computer, or that you must provide the computer passwords to them. It does state they can search any persons found on the premises, but not what they can look for on those persons. Anyway, I’m just saying you should read the warrant even if they barge in. Get a copy. And the police can search an impounded vehicle not matter what it was impounded for. Thus, Lex Luthor never plans any crimes which use a car or keep anything in his house.
           Next, who ever heard of KODU? It is a Samsung product and in this month’s biggest waste of money, it turns out they charge money for incoming cell phone calls that arrive before 5:00PM local time (at the other end). And continue to charge the full rate after that time. Thus, a single call to Marion set us back $68. That was a blatant rip-off designed by the products of our faltering education system. That’s the legacy of stupidity. Their only chance in life is to steal your money before somebody else does. Jackasses.
           There must be a way around this, and I’ll find it. A phone you can pick up and use that charges a reasonable ten cents a minute for long distance should not be such a tall order. I don’t know the carrier on the KODU phone but they can kiss my rosy red. I think I should purchase the phone here and control matters locally, where all roads lead to nothing.

September 27, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 27, 2013, prototype camper.
Five years ago today: September 27, 2009, rather inspired.
Ten years ago today: September 27, 2004, the Onion Store link.

MORNING
           Whee! Spending money. This morning was like old times at the phone place. I went on a spree. Just go out and spend money because you know you’ll never get rich, but there’s more where that came from. It was just me and the Karaoke cash, bro. Spent it all except $20 which has to last me three whole hours until bingo. The pain. Got new matching leather belts for all my trousers, organic beef tomatoes for my blender, my popular science and mechanics issues, and all them doo-dads for around the house I’ve been putting off.

           Up yours, Java installer. You either let them put junk on your computer without seeing it or their stupid pop-up blanks out the page you were working on. That’s why I say if I had the know-how, I would design a browser that blocks everything except what the user specifically allows. It would force the degenerate assholes who’ve taken over the Internet into line if only 5% of users had such a browser. And the inventor would be a billionaire within minutes.

           Or how about the Oklahoma food plant murder? They print the suspect is in custody. Allow me to inform the mainstream media that there is a “suspect” in a bicycle theft, not a beheading. I mean, how do you “suspect” somebody of cutting off a human head in public. See the guy in the picture? In America, he's a suspect. Is there, like, insufficient evidence? Or maybe they are not sure a crime has been committed? What a bunch of jerks.
           That is why I believe I’ll have an extra siesta right now. First, a little trivia. Flamingos are unique as birds because, get this, it is their lower jaw or beak the is fixed. The upper is the one that moves. Do you believe in evolution now? And it was 20 years ago today that Linux was released. Why didn’t it take over? Because it is too freaking weird, that’s why. “Otzi” is the name of that 5,000 year old hunter they found under a melting glacier. He was carrying a flint dagger, a hunting bow, a copper axe, and 14 arrows. Either the guy was major trouble or he heard there was a job opening in Oklahoma.
           I see from the reviews I’m not the only one frustrated by MicroSoft’s insistence on changing things for the worse. It seems there is no easy way to display “All Programs”. When you finally find the command (on the “charm” screen), it only displays the programs MicroSoft wants you to see. So you don’t get them mixed up, the government system “Carnivore” targets the To: and From: segments of your email. It requires a warrant. However the “Echelon” system is considered a “screening” filter, no warrant needed. Echelon just watches and listens, and then claims the bad guys were caught by a “routine patrol”.

NOON
           Ah, the long afternoon with a good book and a pot of Russian tea. That’s tea from Russia, or I mean packaged in Russia. And not made really strong and then diluted. More steeped like Chinese tea, but other than that, a pot of Russian tea. I read some details about that telescope made by Galileo. We all know the tale of his quarrel with the Pope that got his ass arrested.

           The telescope was fascinating. He’d only heard of the invention and it turns out he had to work like crazy to build one before it was patented. This picture, painted near the time, does not at all look like the reconstructions of Galileo’s instrument usually shown.
           This is not built from the long “organ pipe” that appears on his shopping list the day he bought the parts. This picture is incredibly accurate, even the spires in the background. So this is not the same telescope the historians would have us believe. Note, this is only a small center section of a huge painting not shown here, cropped to show the telescope.
           Galileo ground the glass on a cannonball. You know, the more I learn about that guy, the less I buy the tale that he was just another smart Italian. There is something else, something that doesn’t add up. I keep getting the feeling that he knew what he was looking for.
           I’m a record keeper, and I can’t help seeing in his detailed writings and drawings, that he was necessarily obsessed with such detail for some other reason. People just don’t keep track of most anything unless they at least think it will come in handy. Business records were originally kept for that purpose.
           One has to appreciate his daring, even if his genius isn’t all that it seems at first. What I admire most about the man is that he learned being right is very rarely enough. In some ways, medieval Europe was, in that sense, like modern-day Canada. If the authorities say the world is flat, the populace not only believes it, they turn in anyone who thinks otherwise. There is a pattern to Galileo’s work that I just have not spotted yet. But it’s there.

EVENING
           To me, on a scale of one to ten, Karaoke is zero. But music is the most competitive of businesses, so don’t turn your back on any opportunity. This was, financially, my best weekend this year. Ah, but could that be because I had no expenses. The Karaoke show was staged with existing and stationary equipment. I’ll let this development play out, as music besides being competitive is also a hugely copycat business. So there is no doubt Lee-Anne, who owns the video graphics player (the type of CD player needed to display the lyrics) has by now figured out if she learns the ropes, she don’t need me.
           If that is her plan, she must be left to try it.

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September 26, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 26, 2013, 25 milliwatts.
Five years ago today: September 26, 2009, I hate guitarists.
Ten years ago today: September 26, 2004, what apple?

MORNING
           Temporary power today, so things will soon be back to normal. Normal around here is not to be confused with boring. Last evening was a major event for me, possibly a breakthrough but ten years too late. Read about that below. Enjoy everyone, except for the pricks who put un-skippable advertising on youTube videos. Those sick bastards can go you-know-what themselves. I avoid products advertised on youTube and you should avoid them, too. Note my paragraphs are not indented when I don't have commercial electrical power. Kudos if you figure out why.
           And this picture is here simply because I don't have anything better.

           I was reviewing covers of the songs on the list from the new band. This is not real country music. It is slick, studio produced rock music with a layer of twangy guitar or fiddle over-laid the end product. It may be far more effort to learn these songs that it is worth. Big studio numbers are notorious to reproduce on stage, I just came from a band that fails to grasp to what extent. The new list contains a lot of Generation Y bass riffs, super-fast finger-fumble stock guitar patterns.
           I sent to list to my small group with whom I talk music and every one says the same thing. They've never heard of most of this music or most of the bands. Probably because it isn't real country. Just a mass of tunes written to spec, all as stereotyped as an Eric Clapton lead break. Play it forward, play it backwards, then call it original. But I must show up for this audition if only to prove a point. And of course, to see what else is out there. My unique style has prevailed before.

NOON
           Hmmm, what’s this that one needs a license to own or trade more than a certain amount of gold.? But I can’t find out what that amount that is. I wrote a while back how each ounce of gold requires 38 to 40 man-hours to produce. It’s only been in the last hundred years that national sovereignty was not based on gold reserves. And I don’t believe there is any gold in Ft. Knox. Or in that underground vault in New York which refuses to show it to even those who own it.

           This is the Bank of England’s gold. I don’t believe in private gold ownership since the government has grabbed it before, and that’s theme I was looking at for a couple hours today. The market today is hardly the result of any random market movements. Silver has dropped to half what it was two years ago, probably the only commodity to do so. Gold and silver, by the way, represent the largest commodity market out there. By comparison, oil, pork bellies, coffee, these don’t even rate.
           What do I think? I think the government has squandered all the gold and there remains only one source of it left, just like in 1933. The government did not seize people’s gold, only that the gold had to be sold to the government at a fixed rate. $35 per ounce, wasn’t it? What was seized was the price. If they do it again at $1200 per ounce, this time there would be massive inflation shortly as those who had to sell their gold [will rapidly] seek to put it into other “safe” investments.
           Oil, housing, food, water, I don’t know. But I do know what happens to prices when big money starts chasing it. If you think food is expensive now, just wait a year. Kraft dinner is already $1.87 per box, three times the price early last year.
           The largest buyers of gold for years now have been banks. They obviously know something is going to happen to paper money and they want value. These banks are usually associated with the government of the country where the buying is going on. How much gold do they have?
           India: 558 tonnes. Netherlands: 612 tonnes. Japan: 765 tonnes. Russia: 957 tonnes. Switzerland: 1,040 tonnes. China: 1,054 tonnes. France: 2,435 tonnes. Italy: 2,452 tonnes. Germany: 3,391 tonnes. USA: 8,134 tonnes.
           But here’s something to consider. India, Japan, Russia, Switzerland, and China actually possess 90% of the gold. The other European nations and the US actually have less than 30% of the actual metal, the rest of the gold they claim to own is being held in “foreign reserves”. Yeah, like where? Brazil? Botswana? In the barn behind grandma’s house?

EVENING
           I did a Karaoke show. My first and only, it finally happened. It is now 12:44 AM and I’m home and happy. A reminder to the reader that I have only sung, never conducted a show, and I never did get around to learning that disk machine that’s been sitting under my PA head for the last five years. So I had 75 minutes to get it together for the show at the club tonight. The regular act did something I have never done—cancelled out at the last minute.
           Music is too competitive to leave an opening like that. I at first said no, but the club was really stuck, saying anything was better than nothing. I scrounged Wanda’s old disk player from Lee-Ann’s son, I ran the sound through my bingo PA and used some RCA cables to display the lyrics on that old TV by the pool table. It not only worked (I had to drive home to get the right power cables and microphones) but we actually started on time.
           Tomorrow: breakfast at Tiffany’s, anywhere you want to go. On me. I did not make anything in tips but the base pay made up for it. Will anything come of this? Certainly, the right people saw in the end it was yours truly who came through in the lurch and pulled off a show that seemed impossible one hour before.
           My impressions of my first Karaoke show? Foremost, I should have been ready and I wasn’t. The show was a mere success where it should have been a splash. There is more to Karaoke, but a lot of it is make-work because other people are doing it. And you have to compete. Be prepared, I just happen to have enough spare parts and adaptors to pull something like this off since I had to jerry-rig four of the six connections.
           You need a second CD/DVD player to keep the sound going between singers. Fortunately thanks to bingo, we have an awful lot of experience doing that just right. The Karaoke machines have a greater lag time than regular players. The disks are not normalized (different songs come on at different volumes) so you cannot leave the set unattended between tunes. I was super busy all night because I used the house TV, my PA speakers, and a completely unfamiliar Karaoke machine Lee-Anne’s boyfriend brought in late. And it was missing the mixer.
           Overall, not as easy a money-maker as music or bingo. By comparison, a lot of work. I would have to streamline any such show for me. I didn’t make any tips. Perceptually, it “moves” about three times faster than bingo. That would improve once you memorize the routine. And who do we know that is an expert at memorizing routines? So don’t run out and throw a Karaoke show. Yeah, I just did, but it was, let me tell you, by the narrowest of margins.

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September 25, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 25, 2013, Margaritaville.
Five years ago today: September 25, 2009, big empty town.
Ten years ago today: September 25, 2004, seafood.

           This is raw content, no photos yet. The bad news is after two months of planning, I didn't make it to NOVA. Details below. Wait, I do have a picture. This is an 1895 hand-cranked dishwasher. There. Don't say I didn't deliver.

MORNING
           It’s get ready time for the Nova meet-up, but in this modern day and age, I’m guessing they won’t again cancel at the last minute. Still no Internet service from the office, so I’d have to check at the library. Again proving that Generation Y is lost without their toys, they have no method to contact people. So I’m going out there, if they are not open for business, I’m going to a coffee house. I win either way.
           Now, Nova is as likely to be insulted as impressed by the DrawBot. They are assuredly not the same caliber of scholar from my university days. Standards have gotten so low that most students don’t even seem inquisitive. The focus is to get the degree to get a job so you don’t have to work for a living. It was the same in 1980, but you still had to get educated in the process. Not no more.
           Consider this. What are the two most prominent effects of this lowering of standards? Easy: nobody to share the work with and focused skill-sets. There is no group at Nova I could confidently assign some teamwork. Everybody is in it for themselves. This means every project takes forever. But it also means the necessary brainpower for success is concentrated in one or two key people. Sooner or later, the class dummies get around to admitting that, usually against their wills.
           So today’s morning mini-lecture is scaling. This won’t be on the exam, but here’s where I get to explain a complicated process without using any math. Scaling is necessary when your input device does not produce a range or type of values compatible with your output device. Your spinning car tire needs intermediate steps to work with your speedometer.
           In robotics, this happens so often I consider it to be a specialty, though not overly so. This, I think, is where digital philosophy pays off. If you can reduce your input to a digital signal, scaling it to your output requirements becomes relatively easy compared to mechanical differences. There, your lesson for today without any complicated formulas. But before you run out and try it, there is something you should know. And listen up, because it could cost you to find this out on your own.
           Microprocessors don’t like non-integer arithmetic. Every non-trivial scaling function involves division. To get anything like efficiency, you will need to know your bit-wise arithmetic formulas. And the people who design microcontroller commands are monstrous bastards about that, every mother’s son of them. You’ll see.
           End of lesson.

NOON
           Here's another unrelated photo. Well, not related except to y'days post of a covered bridge, now included below. I happen to like covered bridges. Or at least would like to if I ever see one. This is called the "Humpback" bridge. That's my thumb.

           I just found out the hard way that regular Arduino doesn’t like Win 8.1, but you coax it by downloading a bunch of crap you’d rather not. Like Java archives. Yeah, I know, if I don’t like MicroSoft, why do I use it? Because over the years that’s what’s on my system. And Microsoft or not, I believe when someone wants me to do things their way, they should pay me. Later, I discover the application needs a few new folders installed, items that nobody mentions until you have a problem. Worse, the Seattle drizzle is back, meaning I will likely miss the robot meet-up tonight. I’m not taking the scooter or the batbike in the rain.
           I can’t understand Congress. They will outlaw the worst of regular advertising scams, but nothing to protect you on-line. It should require permission for anybody to put anything on your computer. On this brand new computer, the first time it was connected to the Internet, it blocked 932 tracking attempts, and 14,000 “passive” threats. Good advice—don’t even accidentally click on anything that says Softonic.
           I spent the late afternoon with the Arduinos. They don’t interact well with Windows, again the problem is recognizing the COM ports. It seems the Arduinos have a built-in driver that is supposed to find a free port when a USB cable is connected. But sometimes it chooses to just sit there. It’s maddening as there are no commands to troubleshoot the problem. As usual, there is a certain brand of computer user who never in a lifetime experiences the troubles I do with the system. There’s a reason for that, you know.

EVENING
           No Nova. So I watched the movie “Fast & Furious”, with a plot full of holes. Like, why risk jumping on moving oil trucks when all they have to do is shoot out one tire? Or am I just being critical because the screenwriter’s meeting last night was partially about continuity. That’s the guy who makes the scenes appear connected and such. You know, so both scenes have the same number of clouds in the sky.
           One [great] question was asked [at the meeting] about “King Kong”. You ready? If the islanders built the fence to keep the giant animals out of the village, why did they make the gate so big?

Here is the transcipt of y'day's "library post".
           Still using the library computer. Note to my inventor buddy, Collin: I consider golf an industry, not a sport. It is elitist and the challenge of the game, such as it is, does not attract real athletes. I agree with exclusive clubs to keep out the riff-raff, but golf does not qualify as a category of exclusiveness in my books. Just a different kind of riff-raff, more concerned with trying to prove otherwise. Sorry folks, not only do I not like golf, I don't like the people who do like it.
           Okay, but this is not the real post for today. I had no electric now at the trailer court. It was establish in 1962, and although it was one of most desirable spots for decades, it has fallen into disrepair as the owners are really hoping to be bought out by the casino. Except the casino daily has an empty parking lot twice the size of the court. So go figure.
           Anyway, I missed Nova. Just around departure time, it began to sprinkle too much for a safe trip. Now, if you saw it you might say it's nothing, but it is a fool who takes unnecessary chances. And Nova is a 30+ mile round trip. Wait, there's more. Around two in the morning, the electric began to fizzle. It's done this before after a lingering rain storm. I'm telling you, this means trouble.
           One of my goals was to be the first in my gang to drive through a covered bridge by sidecar motorcycle. So, I resolved to find the closest such structure from here. Madison County is too far away and besides, I don't do housewives. Here it is. Kudos to anyone who knows where to find this. All I can say for now is I am looking at it very closely.

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September 24, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 24, 2013, some stats.
Five years ago today: September 24, 2009, a generic day.
Ten years ago today: September 24, 2004, who's Tiffany?

MORNING
           What, no bakery picture for a month? Okay, here, enjoy. This is the pleasant arrangement that greets me most early mornings. Health food, coffee, my newspaper. It’s a family tradition, or would be if I had a family. Actually, I sort of do, being that I have a circle of friends I’ve known for over 25 years and we still chum regular. But all of them live so far away. That’s partially why I skipped the memoir writer’s meet-up and tonight am going just up the roadway to check out the scriptwriter’s association. (It was even more boring and had many of the same people.)

           I’ve read a lot of scripts in my time and it is not a field that attracts the best. I mean that creatively, in that a script that uses existing props, no-name actors, one or two costume changes, one-location sets, and is written for adaptation often wins out over the better material. Remember Al Vicki from Los Angeles in 1991?
           One moderately successful play and crazy Al never worked another day of his life. Well, I mean when I met him He wrote some bitpart of “Alice’s Restaurant” so said his resume. He was hack writing more of the same, hoping to get lucky a second time. Al was nowhere by the time I left to go back north to my day job. I think he still owes me twenty bucks.
           It’s the library computers for me.
           I’ve put out the tender for an aluminum wheel chock, something that clamps on the cPod wheels to prevent them from turning while parked. And some locking bins on the exterior. There is no spot on the motorcycle or the sidecar that anything can be stored both waterproof and easy to get at. Pick one only. To now, I have to keep tools and things locked inside, which means opening the entire camper to get a pair of pliers or a guitar.
           I’ve coined a new term for the library computers. “Neutered.” That’s any computer that has features to lock out pirating or copyright violations. The library units won’t let me open my favorite lyrics sites. The notice says somebody complained that the lyrics often contain the guitar charts as well. To me, that’s over-complaining. They did not create the guitar chords or own them in any way. I don’t blame the artists, but the “music rights” people for this issue. Them greedy pricks would sue you for whistling the tune in your car if they could.

NOON
           Here’s a picture of a novel doorbell. You might have to blow it up, but there is a pick on the door that rakes across the strings as it swings open. Let me guess, it is tuned to an open G.

           I sketched my celestial navigation diagrams, as I do in off moments when there is nothing to read. Only to realize the books I have now fall short and can no longer supply the information I need. I’m not any kind of expert navigator yet, for instance, I cannot plot routes along coastal waters, but I’ve gotten all I can out of the three books.
           Nor have I done any planetary sights due to lack of perceptible planets. But I’ve read my homework probably 40 times each and the material is practically memorized. Where does one go from here?
           I’m back to averaging 66 miles per week on the red scooter, leading me to believe that mileage is a kind of benchmark on how much chasing around the system here is designed to require. Surely somebody has written a thesis on that by now. I stopped at Panera for coffee and chatted up a pretty lady. She was doing fine until she started talking about religion. She smoked, which I don’t mind, but that also represents a constant temptation for me.

The following is filler from y'day, but I feel compelled to not delete it when rating are high. So, here it is again:

           All efforts at calibrating the DrawBot have failed. There is something inherently wrong in the directions and Nova is tomorrow I am now able to calculate navigational co-ordinates within Navy limits 100% of the time, I will now do my usual—work on it until I can do it in my sleep. That’s my real hobby, some could say. That’s only sun sights I'm doing. I’m still working on the Moon.
           Below is the official Radio Shack DIT drawbot photo. The instructions for this project need to be completely re-written by a competent teacher and author who explains what to do when things go wrong. Radio Shack and Makerbot fail miserably on that count. Except for the mechanical parts, this is not really a simple, one-person, weekend project.

           (My version is slightly different in that I do not include an external power switch and jack. I use only the on-board battery pack which already has it's own switch. Otherwise the builds are identical. In particular, there are no instructions on what to do if the calibration programs do not work with your object. The servos are standard Radio Shack issue, and all parts meet or exceed the specifications. Something is wonky with the calibration and cannot be made to work without far more information than the D.I.T. site provides.)

EVENING
           Good move, I went to the scriptwriter's club. Over at the library, it was evident within moments that the very requirements of structured composition had attracted a sharper crowd. There is free software, so march through it yourself, but output is highly structured compared to the free verse of memoirs. Thus, you get fewer people loitering—and this is also a class, so you learn techniques. Tonight’s lesson was foreshadowing and how it all has to happen in Chapter 1. But it is just not fast-moving enough to keep me engaged.

           There are published writers and voice-over actors in the room. Though many of the characters they imitate are unknown to me, they elicit continual compliments. And things generally move fast enough to weed out the idly motivated. There was one guy there from the memoir club, but he is not a decisive fellow. Not so with others, the atmosphere is one of sincere writing ability. Scripts have a deeper immediate impact than prose.
           They also do live script readings and I was the porter at the airport in “Casablanca”. One chap in the room proposed a project. During the 1970s and 1980s, he filmed (8mm, now on DVD) a lot of the clubs in Ft. Lauderdale during spring break and would like to produce a documentary. This led to a few questions about content, and I’ve not seen the footage, but here is what has emerged so far.
           The scenes are not the general beach beer-busts that were was popular at the time, but the then-new phenomena of wet T-shirt contests. The [scriptwriters], 98% men, were now listening. This was the day when nudity was semi-illegal and the Ft. Lauderdale cops would arrest the bartender. It turns out the clubs, with names like “Candy Store” were all mob-owned, so same as today, so they knew when the raids would be staged.
           But it is college women that will sell. He’s got, he says, hours of material on the prettiest gals in the kiddie pools. And remember, America peaked for college women in the 1970s. Every one tall, slim, no tattoos, perky knockers and those form-fitting hippie clothes. There was no career-wrecking Facebook back then, no fatties and an actual air of innocence, real college gals and not hired help. There were, on campus at least, “two girls for every boy”.
           I’d been to a few of these t-shirt contests back then, and they were not bad. They were teens having fun, not the degenerate "titty bar" spectacle of today. Where instead of real college babes, which you don’t even see in public any more, you get the kinky-haired, hard-looking, boob-job, single-mother, stripper-pole crowd. I’ve asked a few women why they do that and the reply is always if they didn’t they would not “get noticed”.
           But campus in the 70s! My best year ever for “scoring” was second year university. I won’t say, but I did over ten times better than Hugh Hefner that year—according to what he says. And I'll bet mine were better in every way.
           The changes came about in the 80s. I noticed because I had returned to get a college degree in computers. It was already different. The campus was no longer all-white and there were middle-aged feminist cadres reporting which students slept with their instructors. I know what you are thinking, but same like today, they make it their business. Alas, by 1984, the party atmosphere was changing and the student body was no longer dominated by 18-year-olds.
           A documentary, you say?

ADDENDUM
           The phrase “two girls for every boy” is not as far-fetched as it sounds. During this post-war era, there was great social pressure in America that one’s kid went to college, except for my parents, of course. To drop out was humiliating and every one in town knew about the hick farmer’s son who went on to become a successful veterinarian or agronomist. Advice to continue on to university was a ladled out daily in every high school.

           Thus, by 1975, you walked onto campus into a youthful atmosphere. Families sent their daughters there to get husbands—and to get them away from hoodlums like my brothers. Your first and second year dormitories and lectures were packed with young women.
           Depending on which “Area 3” subjects you signed up for, you could find yourself the only male in a class of 32 single, innocent (you know what I mean), virgin farmer’s daughters. And now you seriously know where I learned to type 125 wpm. When I had to.

           Author's note: I was still dating women I met in that class until I was 31, when I met my wife.

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September 23, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 23, 2014, saloon inuksuk.
Five years ago today: September 23, 2009, ah, Pudding-Tat.
Ten years ago today: September 23, 2004, NASA sucks.

MORNING
           The robot club has a rule that all experimental work be done in the lab, not the workshop. Today I find a tray of damaged chips (L293Ds, so I know they are club-issue) and a dusty breadboard. Sigh, that’s why the club has me riding herd. Quality control, so now we schedule a pep talk. This photo is what chip repair looks like. Yes, that is “plaster-seen”. The 293 (dual h-bridge) is on the left. When I say repair, I mean straightening out bent contact pins.

           Oh no, Seattle weather. Drizzle instead of rain and it lasts forever. The one brand of precipitation I really don’t like much is muggy drizzle. I’m here, waiting it out. I have to strain to find anything blogworthy, but there is something I’d like to define: what I mean by band veto power. It means any band member can, without cause, put a new song “on hold” for 91 days.
           Nobody can argue or make comments about musical taste or ask for an explanation. No means no. Maximum number of active vetoes is three, not counting repeats. Thus, the learning of some tunes can be indefinitely postponed if even one band member really doesn’t like that song. But usually after 91 days, the band has moved on. Top of my veto list? “Hotel California”. “Who will rid me of that turbulent piece?”
           NPR is featuring classical piano this week, mind you, with an excess of commentary. Do I really care where the composer was born and which academy trained the performer, or do I just want to hear the damn music? That’s your easy question for the day. I do have a favor to ask Canadian historians. When an immigrant gets off the boat and one week later receives a $1,500 check and a job offer from the CBC for his first concert, quit feeding us bull about how the guy “arrived penniless”. We’d sooner believe he phoned home for money.

NOON
           This is Lord Howe Island, in the Admiralty chain, new New Guinea. It is just a placeholder, not anything relevant to this post, except that it is near to a place I almost hit with my navigational exercises. See addendum.

           Lots of reading today as the rain kept me away from the writer’s club meet-up. It was Kennedy who said forgive your enemies, but remember their names. I’ve done him one better by keeping all their names on a list since day one. So here is a human interest angle, read on.

           [Author's note 2015-09-23: for clarity, what I'm saying here is that over the years, I have kept names and stats on the major people I do not get along with for any reason. For instance, item 1 says that of the 152 people I don't like or don't mix with, only one was a lawyer, the rest were blue collar types. These are some of the patterns noted from that list, otherwise, it is just a list of no particular significance.]

           How does one combine statistics with gossip and grudges? I found a way! As can be deduced, I have the names of everyone in this life where we did not get along. That’s 152 people, with 7 more on the pending list. Rather than percentages, let’s look at totals, remembering that categories can overlap.

           Total: 151. With one exception, none were professionals. But I’m the first to admit I don’t get along much with working class heroes. And if you look at the number of wars going on, they don’t get along much with each other any better.
           Total: 125. The largest single group is single males, of whom 92 were “dumb jocks”. Note that all men who get violent are included here, as I have never met an intelligent or educated man who was violent by nature. Only stupid people fight with their fists.
           Total: 28. Married, middle-aged (28 - 48 years), slightly overweight women. Mainly from the phone company, for of my own volition I don’t socialize with married women, ever. And it is quite difficult for a married woman to not get along with me unless she imposes herself, uninvited, upon my situation.
           Total: 27: Number of people who were 30, 31 or 33 (but not 32) years old when our mutual dislike began. Funny, I’ve always thought of that as the age spread where most people quite learning, that is, they are as smart as they are ever going to get. It’s pitiful, really.
           Total: 23: Number of civil servants on my bad person list, ranging from customs agents to mayors. It would be strange for me to get along with those who support a corrupt and unfair system just to build their pensions. These days, it is mainly civil servants who get away with that.
           Total: 14. Largest identifiable occupation of males who earned my disrespect—-policemen. And I’ve never been arrested or inside a jail, so that number is probably lower than average. Lots of people don't get along with policemen.

           There’s a considerable number of other patterns in that list, but these are the most direct. Bear in mind that the definition of “to not get along” varies from mild dislike, to repugnance, to loathing. Also, I dislike people whose popularity derives from peer pressure and conformity, but I’m okay if one’s popularity is a result of admiration. One thing certain about the majority of people who don’t get along with me: something of mine is always bigger than theirs. (Ego, bank account, fan club, etc.)
           Nor do I give much never-mind to the opinions of outright jackasses, so I make little effort to put up with them. I simply don't believe in friendships or relationships that I have to work at. They are a waste of life. I believe social pecking order is largely pre-ordained and only politicians and other con artists attempt to tinker with it.
           There are exceptions, so don’t quote me as stating any absolutes, either. Much depends on one’s perspective on humanity. You know those food pyramid charts that show food chains, with single cells at the bottom and humans or sharks at the top? When I look what our American and Canadian societies have thrown away through excessive liberalism, think about it. It’s the worms that are really at the top [of the food chain, think about it].
           My computer just informed me it is shutting down for updates. Up yours, MicroSoft. I was working on something. You won’t log on the Internet, but you’ll install updates that come from there. And the “proper” function now capitalizes the letter after an apostrophe. MicroSoft has become sadistically stupid.

EVENING
           I have the song new list and I see these are also arriving in zipped Calibri 11. I was hasty with my old lead player for compressing the files. Now I see he was not doing it on purpose, but like I told you, MicroSoft forces things their own way by controlling default settings they know the masses won’t change. There are 61 songs on the list, of which I’ve heard of 8 and can only play 3. Their definition of classic country is three generations ahead of me.
           But, it had to happen sooner or later. It is again in my best interests to be out there playing in order to meet those who play country music. This list, while it has the big names, would not sell that great in a lot of places. It is mainly country schlock, the new stuff being cranked off word processors. I swear there is an app somewhere that inserts country keywords into any lyrics.
           I hit the library again and stayed for the trivia. Did you know metal pen nibs were originally designed so they could draw uniform lines on music sheets? And a store was a building that had larger windows on the ground floor than in the residence above it. The Queen Mary moved 33 mph and was the fastest transport of its day, beating out even the trains.
           I have a question for you. When you meet a small group who is disliked by half the world, do you blame the small group or half the world? I was at the Young Street library. I noted there were 6 new books on anti-Semitism in the research section, where the encyclopedias used to be. I glanced through many of the tables of content, but could not find a single reference or chapter regarding Jews themselves accepting any responsibility for anything that ever happened to them.
           They are always portrayed as innocent victims under every circumstance. All recommendations to combat anti-Semitism called for action on everyone else’s part—never the Jews themselves. If that is their game plan, it ain’t going down no matter how many times they jiggle the handle.

ADDENDUM
           Oh boy, more navigation. By now I hope I sound more comfortable with the topic. It must seem like I’m perpetually announcing victory, but that comes from me knowing where I lean back or have and “aha moment”. There’s many times I thought I’d reached the end only to turn the page on yet another set of formulas. Now I know, the starting point is a sextant reading, the ending point is two lines drawn on a map at least five times per day.
           Which brings me back to that sextant reading, the event which got this whole ball rolling. It turns out to be uncomfortable to take sun readings in Florida. Nearly every dawn and dusk presents you with unbearable heat and the need to establish an artificial horizon or go to the beach. There’s the additional hindrance that I’m rarely un-busy at the best times for a reading. The stars are rarely visible even overhead and certainly not in lower parts of the sky. What to do?
           That question took some answering. What is something that is generally visible in Miami? The Moon. Why, that’s obvious, or is it? The Moon has a reputation for being difficult. I see it now after three months of chasing the Sun. You slowly realize the extra brain-sweat over the Moon is really one more calculation. All celestial objects move predictably east to west, I finally got that down. The Moon also moves from north to south rapidly enough that you must allow for it, there’s the rub.
           Therefore don’t be surprised shortly if I start reporting Moon sights. Now careful what I say here next, I’ve found I can take reasonable readings without the horizon. How? Because around here I generally know where the horizon is supposed to be, if I could see it. These readings would be too wild for navigation, but most times my calculations are within 60 miles.
           The Moon means just another step and it would be most convenient compared to the Sun. It is often beautifully visible at times when I’m already active. What’s more, the southern horizon is often visible on the darkest night because of the glow of Miami. But there are pre-conditions to what I’m saying here, so don’t run out and try it. Example, how to allow for the diameter of the Moon. You probably don’t know that.
           And editions of the 2015 Farmer’s Almanac are appearing on the stands. They are useless for navigation so don’t waste money on them. Unless you are planting broccoli at sunrise. In which instance you can use the booklet to kneel on so your knees don’t get damp. (I still purchase and read the Alamanac, for the same old reason. I don't believe most of that, but I know a lot of women who do.)

           Later. Admiralty Island. I’ve hit another island, but this time with my first totally accurate Moon GP for “geographical position”, though not having been to the fancy schools, I call it the Ground Point. This time, and by time, I mean six pieces of information 2014y 09m 24d 92h 17m 04s (it is tomorrow in England). The Moon is at 218° 37.5’ GHA and 01° 19.2’ S DEC. Slightly northeast of Admiralty Island in the Bismarck Archipelago. I was off, Admiralty is 146° 57'E and 02° 05'S. The 72° is due to my unfamiliarity with East longitudes.

           No Internet means I can’t look it up now, but my dictionary list indicates that, barring grade school, that is the first time in my life I have ever written the word “archipelago”. All I recall is that some naval action took place there in WWII. The sharper reader will wonder, how did I find the position of the Moon when it is on the other side of the planet and being a new moon, is invisible? I plead the Fifth. In other words, go figure it out for yourself. It is actually fun.