[Author's note 2016-06-16: the content of this post is unclear, it's a transcript. The explanation is that this was the days before Harbor Freight. You could not just go somewhere and buy a trailer or wagon no questions asked. In those days, the few used trailer outlets all knew each other. By the time you got to the second one, they were waiting for you. I kept getting douchebag salesmen. They insisted on knowing what I was going to haul to "ensure they sold me the right trailer", you know, the pricks who want to talk about you rather than the trailer. I don't like snake oil salesmen at all.]
[Author's note 2016-12-08: this was also one of the last posts before my heart attack a few weeks later. I may have missed many symptoms and been off balance, since I have very little recognition of this few weeks. Then again, I was working for a living and that can bring about the same consequence--missing years of one's life.]
Small picture. I no longer have to consider Frank in the picture, so I have some time each week that might otherwise be wasted until I find something to fill it. I’m using that time to search. The trailer is still a problem, because each time I get the runaround, I gain a little knowledge, but it almost seems they know that and contact the next place to warn them I might call.
My goal is to get a trailer in Miami, and not tell anyone what I’m going to do with it. This strikes at the very core of their sales system and they’ve put up one hell of a fight so far.
Now you remember the guy at the Great American Flea Market on 69th? I kept buying a cheapo tool there every other weekend. By hinting that I may want to join the flea market, suggesting without stating what I will put under the tent, I’ve gotten the price down from $1,400 to a reasonable $318. I have not seen the tent yet. A 16 x 24 tent to start.
[Authors note: I'm still looking for a place to locally display these toothpicks at a profit. This is not as easy as it seems in Florida. This town is geared toward polishing shoes and washing cars, not intellectual pursuits. There is no critical mass of educated people here.
The toothpicks are back from California and stored inside my place. The logical places flea markets where there are a lot of curious passersby. It turns out the flea markets here aren't really flea markets. The purpose of the tent is so that people have to pay before they see the goods. The tent also has to be something that one man can easily put up and take down.
I will be seeking alternatives though. Flea markets here are just another Florida grade small-scale rip-off.]
[Author's note 2016-12-08: the above refers to a display tent for the toothpicks. In the short run, the events of the next 21 days brought that all to an complete standstill, as it is now known, for ten years. The toothpicks are still stored behind my house.
I now recall, years later, of the difficulty in buying an ordinary second-hand trailer in Miami. Nobody would give you a straight answer, it's the way things are done around here. Today, you would just go to Harbor Freight or Northern Tools, but back then it was pretty sad. Also, working for a living made sure I could not get too much shopping done after I got off work into rush hour. I'm so glad I don't live in Miami any more.
But you will notice how even these ancient old blogs benefit from the formatting I've learned over the years. This nothing post of December 8, 2003 looks just as sharp as my newest material. I should write a guidebook that flies in the face of the convention blog layouts, which, face it, are as ho-hum as the men and women who write them.]
Last Laugh
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