June 18, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 18, 2015, Hillary hint - read addendum.
Five years ago today: June 18, 2011, Bozo of the Decade Award.
Nine years ago today: June 18, 2007, so I'm indifferent to billionaires.
Random years ago today: June 18, 2014, Stanford Experiment #1.

MORNING
           Here’s the parrot at the Palmdale Cracker store. If I’d taken the photo from outside instead of under cover, true, you would have seen the bright plumage. But I would have got soaked in the rain. The parrot can be coaxed to say “hello” but will usually say “bye” on its own when it sees you leaving. The store is for sale, if you want to kind of get away from everything.

           This trip was strictly business, we got the entire truckload into the shed and the hallway behind the kitchen before the storm caught up with us. The summer weather anywhere near the cloud path between the Gulf of Mexico and Lake Okeechobee is strongly influenced by the humidity. First time visitors to Florida are rarely ready for the sauna-like summers.

           [Author's note: technically the parrot is a blue-and-yellow Amazon macaw.]

           Palmdale was our only stop except for gas. JZ took a few trips to adjust to having a house is a game-changer. It is no longer the mad rush to get up there to have enough daylight to get things done and then shell out for a place to stay. It’s a four hour leisurely trip, though the confusing road system still isn’t that much fun.
           The plan is to take a complete set of measurements so I can finalized the budget. The place is a fixer-upper and while it is structurally sound and livable, there are still some issues that need attention before the place is fully fit for full-time occupation. Having said that, the seller’s mother did live there until a year ago before she moved to Ohio. This does not guarantee the place was in top-top shape, you see, because if she needed anything, she could just nip across the road.
           It also meant that since the place was basically just to keep her near but not underfoot, any repairs were adequate but otherwise amateurish. This was expected. I got what I paid for. And soon, you will be able to follow along and find out what that is.

Wiki picture of the day.
West L.A.
NOON
           This is a good time to remind the reader that JZ and I are nearly opposite personalities, the classic Mutt & Jeff mismatch. That means whereas we both want the place made spiffy, there is no consensus over how that is to be done. My insistence on developing only an outline, then filling in the blanks later based on research and what works best in the field is not shared by everyone. A good example is we know that foundation needs leveling. JZ says to start in one corner and raise it to where you want it.

           My thinking is that we cannot start until we know exactly where that is, that “where you want it” is too vague. We can raise parts of the house, but lowering it would be a bitch. Therefore, before we start, the idea is to find the highest point, and stake it. This kind of variance can often result is some lively dialogue.

           Fortunately, an unusually muggy hot spell drove us out of the house and into the library. That’s JZ sitting near my favorite spot with the lake out the window. There’s a sign to beware of the alligators. The grainy photo is my camera batteries but otherwise you won’t get this photo, so nobody moan. He’ll learn to like the library, since it has ice cold water fountains and unlike Dade and Broward who are chickenshit to tell non-whites to shut up, these northern libraries enforce the quiet rule. You heard me.
           You betcha, the budget to repair this house is an animated topic. Once again, temperaments can flare, because to JZ, “budget” means to do a job as cheaply as absolutely possible. You know, to stay under budget. This means he doesn’t understand the concept. I too want to conserve, but only when it comes to buying the best materials possible. For example, I want the entire new bathroom done in dry rock, not just the floor. I understand there is a cheaper “water resistant” drywall available, but I don’t want it on my walls. I don’t agree that the drywall saves me a thing just because it would cost $280 less than the dry rock.

+++ Ig Nobel Prize Winners +++
           Victor Benno Meyer-Rochow: Fluid dynamics, 2005. For his in-depth study of the internal pressures that build up inside penguins when they take a poo. I refuse to include any links, on principle alone. You want further info, go find it yourself.
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NIGHT
           We took to some yard work. I used the machete to hack down that stand of ferns under the trees. They are weeds and I found a whole row of monkey grass under them, which is an ornamental. JZ tackled the old flower garden area, so by sunset it looks like we got something done. Sunset is around 8:30 daylight savings as we near the summer solstice. Of course, I packed many books and I like my afternoon nap. So JZ figures he would like some reading material.

           He goes through the boxes and finally finds one of those Reader’s Digest how-to-fix anything volumes. I was out in the living room wondering what took him so long to grab a book to read. Ha, I went over to look in the box and the other books were on celestial navigation. I told him yeah, he probably didn’t want to start at that level. Maybe schedule those books for a long week-end or something. The new place is designed so his room is down the hallway to the left, so one person awake doesn’t bother the person having the siesta.

           Yes, the joint is a one bedroom, but that is because the original had a wall knocked out to make a huge living room, much too big for one person. I crash in that living room, making the place easily big enough to two or three people to live there. And that will become downright luxurious in some ways if I can afford to add on that sun room. Right now, the place is pretty much bare to the walls, and that’s why you see JZ up at Wal*Mart grabbing supplies.
           The town was dead and we found out why. Some place nearby was hold a celebration called the “Flotilla”. I never heard a thing about it. By nightfall, we went out for pizza, which I have lost my taste for, then stopped at the local club to watch the women. It is like a fashion show compared to South Florida. Gals who actually dress up nice, with natural looks and hair. I call it “hooker hair”, JZ just calls it Italian, but I don’t like it. For a quiet Saturday, there were a surprising number of women in the place. Ah, it is so good to be out of the south, where women have forgotten you can look sexy without looking sleazy.

           There was no entertainment except watching the women, though nothing quite my style came along. Since the day I first noticed girls, I’ve been leery of the ones who have to pile things on to be attractive. Don’t overthink me on this, because there are far more men who like women who do that than there are guys like me. So it is not like I’m leaving plain women out in the cold. There was a couple of 35-ish ladies I found rather fetching but one look told me, “High maintenance.” I’ve dated that type before and it never works out. I’d rather maintain a 1978 motorcycle than a 1978 woman.
           Seriously, I don’t like expensive women. That doesn’t mean I don’t like rich women, but even then, I don’t like the ones who need a flight bag along when you go out to dinner. I tend to be picky about that—but not JZ. The guy has never dated a rich gal in his life. Let me count, I’ve dated four. Judy, Sandy, Liz, and Robynette. Yes, my ex-wife was rich.


Last Laugh

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