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A reminder to the reader this is not a political blog, but commentary on human behavior. I am not for or against any political party. Liberalism is not a political party, but a social cancer. It is wrong to steal money and it is just as wrong to elect people to steal it for you. One more thing, never argue with a man who buys his printer ink by the barrel.

January 26, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 26, 2025, a day at the market.
Five years ago today: January 26, 2021, ha-ha, remember Parler?
Nine years ago today: January 26, 2017, but actually impossible.
Random years ago today: January 26, 1980, ah yes, crazy Heather.

           Happy Australia Day. Here is $3,000 worth of silver this morning. Kitco, who would be decent if they cleaned all the BS off their web page, listed at $110 this morning. In real life, you may get $100. First, breakfast, toast and gravy. I called ahead in case I have to stick around Miami past next weekend, which reminds me pick up breakfast chow if I crash at JZ’s. To him, anything with fried egg on the place is breakfast. Not just grits, I mean spaghetti or kale or ravioli. At 6:00AM across the street, a huge trenching machine started up.

           It looks like they are not only rebuilding the structure over there, they are re-doing the services as well. It’s still dark at that hour but I can see the pipes being lowered into the ground. What is it with that place? I am taking the KIA into the shop, since I will need reliable wheels as the hospital is prepared to take me early if there is an opening. There will be, this is a serious procedure, know what I mean?

           Later, I almost lost it today, but then I remembered my own words about how Florida just knows when and how to screw you over. It was the alternator on the van, but that’s the only part I guessed right. The part is $400 and two weeks ago I know guys who would put on for $100. But can’t do that this time, Florida knows I 100% need that van to get to Miami, so the bill it $995.05, I get the shop shuttle to take me to the silver store. Who decide they aren’t paying cash, and I can’t wait.
           So I take it out of Regions, leaving myself short and the shuttle driver is getting antsy, he has to go get this lady. So I said I’d ride with her to save time, turns out her big emergency is she has tree roots poking up in her driveway. We get back to the shop to discover the distro sent the wrong part, will I come back tomorrow, it’s closing time.
           Sure, if you drive me back to my place and come get me tomorrow. The shop then saw the wisdom of having the right part sent out from Orlando and kept the mechanic on duty until 6:00PM. I’m home now, when I paid the bill, after wasting half my day, instead of handing me $5, they counted out the pennies in change. And half-days have become mighty precious around here. This may have been the last warm one for a while.

           The Reb called, she knows this is the end of any speculation. It’s funny to hear so many people say they risked it all when they didn’t have anything much to risk. Or the rich kid who risks his last $50 on a pool game. We are stuck somewhere in the middle, if this flops, I will never recover totally—but because there is no time left. It’s not laziness or non-ambition that’s done me in, but 60 years of trying is enough for anyone.
           The same can be said about looking for the right woman. At 25 I quit looking in Hawaii, at 30 I quit in Mexico, at 35 in Thailand, and at 40 in Venezuela. I didn’t quit finding, I just quit looking. I’ve been in Florida 26 years without finding a keeper, I have not even found a woman who was honest or good company. But I never quit trying and it’s to the stage where now maybe I should. I’ve read of men much younger who say staying at home, puttering, and going for Sunday drives can be fulfilling if you let it.

           I would, if things go awry and I wind up destitute, have the advantage of enjoying reading. But I would recover, for I’ve learned how. The Reb remains the only other person I know who does not watch TV. None of my opinions are based on television. It’s an odd thing to have in common, but nor do we suffer 99% of the predictable crises of adult life. This is not off the topic, which is that recording contract—we are considering the consequences of a failure, which is the rule, not the exception. I would be content to spend the rest of my days reading, if that is all I could do.

           This puts another topic into the spotlight. I would point out that he present situation is not musical, but financial. I have never trusted the music industry and chose performing over recording. I have never, even as an early teen, viewed “selling records” as something I’d do for enjoyment. At the same time, I recognize the trade of selling files is much more lucrative than passing around the hat.
           Thusforth, today I can hit you with a double whammy. Music and silver. Do not get into these unless you have a very, very, very high tolerance for loss and disappointment. Hint: you don’t.

Picture of the day.
Amity Park
(Disney spoof band.)
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           All this has the famous Florida ripple effect. Now I can’t check the mail until after bank hours and the silver shop is closed for the day. The going price was $115 and they offered me $94. That’s a $21 per ounce bar charge. The shop has free coffee and popcorn, so I lived on that, I was expecting to be here by 10:30AM. I got a lot of Arduino study time, I now laugh at people who say they know how to code those things. They know how to key enter what others have published.
           Example. The task of a programmer is getting the task to work right. An Arduino coder is more concerned with remembering which command lines end with a semi-colon and that an int (integer declaration) is two bytes long, so to determine sizeof( ) you must divide by 2 an add 1 because there is an invisible null character at the end.

           How much trivia did I read today? The average credit card debt is $7,668. Polk County minimum wage is now $15 per hour and the term artificial intelligence was coined in 1956. The cold front moved down just in time for me to get home. That alternator, almost a thousand dollars, tells me my $100 per month maintenance budget is too low. But raising it to $150 or $200 per month crosses the line of where I could just buy a better unit that requires fewer repairs. Ah, but these days, what are you buying?
           I believe the kill switch will soon be a reality and the automobile will soon become both your enemy and a necessary evil. As usual, society will march into this disaster fully aware but ignoring the consequences. It is how our society operates. I am quite willing to let others die for their causes and freedoms when they are the ones who let it come to that. You can’t spend a lifetime voting for the nicer candidate and expect a happy ending.

ADDENDUM

           I thought you might find this view of the devastation caused to orange trees by the Mediterranean fruit fly infestation. That was some twenty years ago, this is the long-term results. My route home last week took me through the interior northeast of Arcadia. These are the dried trunks, the flies ruin the fruit. But you cannot see the sheer size of the dead orchards. Thousands of acres gone like this.
           Tell you what, let me search my camera disk, see it I can find some footage I took out the van window. Ah, lucky you, here it is, just let me clean it up for you. The surviving orchards have resorted to netting, shown here in two varieties. I question its effectiveness against hurricanes and the upkeep must be a sinker. But if you wonder why orange juice is pushing $12 per quart, try counting those posts. Hey, sorry for the crappy video but it was cold that morning.

Last Laugh

January 25, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 25, 2025, I want that stove.
Five years ago today: January 25, 2021, current bass list.
Nine years ago today: January 25, 2017, not unpacked yet.
Random years ago today: January 25, 2009, the factory owner’s son.

           At least I woke up untired, it just took another eight hours. Time to pack for the trip that might last forever. The neighbor started some tool at 8:00AM that wailed like a siren for 15 minutes so I may use the compressor. While I have energy and dreamt a lot, these are signs. A weird dream that a family gave a ride out to a farm and I had to hitchhike back. Did you know fifty years ago, I was still hitchhiking to get to work?

           I’ll start today with everything that can be washed, right after I finish this grilled SPAM sandwich. If I go, it should be with clean underwear. I’m awaiting the call as of noon today. Here’s something, the fan-shaped ferns I have never tended to. How nice they put on this show in my front yard, like I was some Johnny Applecore of something.

           Time does not flash past, though that could be for those who don’t dwell on it. My oft-said statement that, after age 30, take everything with you that you’ll need to have fun, applies to life as well as Hawaii. I’m contemplating taking an extra satchel of books with me to the hospital, books I intend to leave behind. The word from Tennessee is the doggie needs a couple things, so I put in $560 and told the Reb she will have to decide what is most important.

           My new (19 month old) $180 battery on the KIA won’t crank. I can easily start it with the zapper, so getting into the shop tomorrow is probably going to be fine. This morning I’m focused on that battery and why it is acting up. I need to drive the van to the shop, the tow bar was slated for just after money got tight. Stick around, the robot club test gear is good stuff. It is now 9:30AM.

           The Petersens, a family bluegrass band, appeared on my feed, so I gave the video a listen. It’s the only group I know with a “band chaplain”, the mother, who is also the bassist, and the oldest member. Sigh, the prettiest one, Ellen, has become less pretty. It was wonderful, on American Idol, how she could brush her blonde locks back over her shoulder while her banjo kept playing by itself. Here she is beside her replacement. That was mean. Hey, it’s not like these women ask permission to get fat, nomsayn?
           Or how about Facebook’s much touted “Race Blind” algorithm, the one that was supposed to expose White racism? It found 90% of hate speech was anti-White. They announced they have finally quit trying to “fix” it. There are nearly 50,000 NGO “charities” in Minnesota. The major problem with America today is far, far too many people on welfare. No way should the able-bodied collect a penny, they are lucky I am not in charge. I hear some say that is stealing food from babies, to which I say that is what they do to others every payday.

Picture of the day.
FYI
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           Troubleshooting the van while the laundry is on constitutes multi-tasking around here, and here is a demo of the crap now being sold as batteries in the USA. This place is now as bad as Canada, where the entire country is run by cartels. You either sell out to them or they will drive you out of business. This video clip shows a year-old battery in the KIA now refusing to take a charge, my back up battery from the trickle charger testing bad, and debunking the idea of a Yeti being a store of value. Shown here, unless kept plugged in, the Yeti discharges to nothing by itself.

           Next was the tedious chore of finding out if the problem was fixable here. I don’t think so. The consistency of batteries going dead in the, what, seven different vehicles since I began keeping score, is too much coincidence. We have the best testing and maintenance systems short of going commercial, and 64% of new batteries are dead within 24 months.
           Here is a view of some tire and battery maintenance in progress, there is no chance problems are caused by neglect. In fact, this is some of the more-than-usual attention in progress. I know this would cost a fortune, not because it is complicated, but finding somebody to do it. You bet there is a reason so many auto shops hate voltage repairs. I don’t have time to even describe why, but you’d have to pay me $250 to even take a look.

           By just past noon, I have chosen to replace the battery for around $140. A lifetime of repairs means I know this is a huge savings over garage work and tomorrow the van goes in for two recall issues, where they will check the battery anyway. The van runs for around 8 minutes, then cuts out and will not restart.

           The battery tests both bad and flat, not the same thing, Chumley. It’s not so much the cost as how this had to happen right now, the week I am due for surgery and my money tied up in Tennessee. But this situation is different than being stuck with no hope. I drive across town in a few minutes. The wisdom of that second vehicle, the Hyundai, may seem serendipitous, but the reality is it was more due to a sober assessment of my situation. The fact is I am surrounded by nothing but useless assholes who could not help you if they wanted to. But I’m friends with most of them.
           In case you are wondering, the budget money for the battery is in the kitty, put away long ago and should be around $200 at this point. I have also not forgotten the best place to buy that battery is across the highway from Kooters. This instance bumps into my rule of thinking twice so I found Eastwood’s “Joe Kidd”, one of his weaker numbers but new to me. That replacement small compressor is still on the ticket, the total price being $240 plus tax and I know there is not that much in the kitty.

           Wait, there’s more. I have the battery, but it took over two hours. I had to remove the harness from the KIA to use the core trade-in, only to discover the Hyundai was also acting up. Knowing that unit has one of those “millennial” cables with all those circuits, I clamped the Viking (jump starter across the posts) and prayed it would get me to Wal*Mart. Curse the asshole who designed this. I got there and bought the nearest form factor, only to discover the KIA battery cables were incompatible with the battery posts. (All posts should be left positive, right negative, centered on the battery case, and screw anybody who tells you different.)
           I wired the battery in using pigtails that cost more than the difference in battery prices (millennials, again) and limped hobbled back to the cabin. Then I swapped the batteries and got the KIA running. The problem may have been the slow drain from the Garmin which I suspect is not turning itself off like it is supposed to.

ADDENDUM

           Here is the Hyundai being prepped up, it has only been run ten minutes monthly while in hibernation. This, folks, is the typical backup plan for Florida, where the system is designed to kick you while you are down. It may seem like a wasted $3,500 to just sit there, but Florida is home to many outfits whose business model is to soak you if anything goes wrong. Of course, they call them “emergency services”, but why wouldn’t they?

           The saving grace is the old boy network is still strong as ever, provided you were born a good old boy. This is far from the racism attached by some, for nobody would stop others from developing their own self-help. I have not checked the van, but a neighborly septic tank truck driver stopped and poured $15 of gas in my tank and would not take pay. I limped back to town before I saw the engine light, but that isn’t the point. Alas, I thought I could remember the business name but I got home and flaked out.

Last Laugh

January 24, 2025

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 24, 2025, a quarter of my pay.
Five years ago today: January 24, 2021, the company car.
Nine years ago today: January 24, 2017, the panes rattled.
Random years ago today: January 24, 2004, unopenable packages.

           What is that aroma? It’s a mixture. Blueberry muffins in the oven, curried rice in the microwave, potatoes boiling in bay and dill, gravy, a medley of onions, celery, and chopped chicken in the pan, and all the coffee you could want. Yes, I know, mmmmm that bay leaf. Plus key lime pie in the fridge. This may be my last weekend, so why conserve? Let’s find some morning news to make snarky comments over.
           Another ICE shooting, some clown pulled a gun during an arrest. The Democrats will soon elevate him to sainthood. Bondi, head of legal stuff, announced she has sent the arch-criminal Tim Walz a letter. Strongly-worded, no doubt. That’s it, nothing else interesting. What a fruitless waste, I may opt to find some Monty Python youTube. This is not shaping up a productive day.

           I slept all day, but I did find you this clip from last week. It is an updated view of the cat studio, this time with the round door cut out. Feral cats may not take a liking, but something will eventually move in. The dimensions are too small for a raccoon. Don’t laugh, since I took ill in November, this is neater than my place. My housekeeping lately is best described as “there appears to have been a struggle.” Did I already use that one?

           There is something unusual. Around half the sites where the cardiac test stickers were removed have become surface abrasions and are not showing signs of healing. One in particular has become worse, but is now stable. How strange and I’ll keep things monitored. Maybe I’ll watch Johannson in “Lucy”.
           Later, I finally watched this strange movie. Alas, no real shots of Scarlett without a ton of foundation garments. But the plot makes more sense if you are familiar with physics, evolution, and the real Big Bang.

           Wait, this just in. The guy shot by ICE was a brainwashed liberal. At 37 years old, his parents had to phone him and tell him to behave. He was carrying a 9mm pistol. There is speculation the agents could not hear anyone saying the gun was disarmed because of all the liberal screaming noise. We may have this shoved on us for a while to come, how he was an American citizen and had a gun permit. Watch for a new law stopping people from turning their phones into premium lines that charge spam callers by the minute.

Picture of the day.
Curved wooden laminated beams.
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           Florida is sold out of all supplies. Storms that don’t get this far south are the cause of many mild winter days. I doubt this spell is any different, but taking no chances I inventoried 34 servings of coffee. I’ll be fine. And SPAM, the only ration you can trust when the power goes out. I’m taking needless chances here due to the tight money situation. I don’t know if my propane unit works or if I have any gas. Cold spells don’t usually bother the electric. So, let’s do a star sight.

           This is where I find the geographic position of an arbitrary star, then learn something of the nearest inhabited area that we’ve not found before. First, GMT is 22:09:31 and the star is Altair because its declination is north and that increases our odd of hitting land. The Greenwich Hour Angle of Airies is 94° 08.7’ and the sidereal hour angle is 62° 08.1’. The star is 08°54.5’ above the Equator. We will use the convention of rounding anything ending in dot-5 up or down to the nearest even number.

           Now we offset for the 9 minutes 31 seconds past the hour by adding 2° 23.1’, so Altair is positioned directly above 158° 11.2W by 08° 54’N. That translates in Googlespeak to -158.1792 longitude and 54.8640 latitude. Somewhere near Kodiak Island in the Alaskan archipelago. Let’s zoom in. Aha, we have non-wilderness nearby. Welcome to Perryville, Alaska, population 88, Wiki reports the median income for females is $38,750 and for males, it is $0. I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.
           More interesting is the booming nearby metropolis of King Cove, population 792, it is site of the former Peter Pan Seafood processing plant. Famous mostly for not paying t
he fishermen, the plant lost millions before being shuttered last year. The staff learned of losing their jobs via Facebook, hooray American innovation! Juneau assures us that King Cove remains “rich in cultural heritage”.
           There is a well-done drone video with Journey as the backing track. To help you immerse in the King Cove ambiance, minus the fish-pong, of course.

ADDENDUM
           Here’s a gif generated directly off an Internet video. My first. It’s a command well-hidden behind the PrtScr key. I’ll describe the usage, if it works right you will see a gif video of two doggies.

1. Find some footage you like. You do not have to record the whole thing.
2. Leave the footage on your screen in a convenient central location.
3. Ensure you can work the start button. (You can stop the recording any time.)
4. Choose the PrtSc button and find this tool box. You want the little camera icon.

5. Click on the camera and drag the cropping rectangle over exactly what you want.
6. You have 3 seconds to click the start button where you want.
7. While recording, be ready to click the red RECORDING dot to stop.

           You can leave the screen running after you hit the red dot, you are done. Now find the ScreenRecordings folder. It is usually in your Videos folder. There are also snipping and audio tools, but you can play with those on your own time. Designed by GenXers, the controls are finicky and non-intuitive. The resultant videos are MP4 and cannot be edited using classic MovieMaker. Duh.
           The app may show a watermark, but it disappears when you replay the clip. The file will not loop, but I'll figure that out over coffee later. If I'm around, that is. Gawd, I'm getting fateful. You may ask, why did I not just make a mini-videoo of all this instead of spelling it out? Because that would be demonstrating a trust in Google that has never existed in the alert mind.

Last Laugh

January 23, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 23, 2025, the guy is clever.
Five years ago today: January 23, 2021, somebody in Michigan again.
Nine years ago today: January 23, 2017, day 37.
Random years ago today: January 23, 2005., millennial packaging.

           Dammit, silver, break $100 so I can get things here underway. At 09:22 I get my wish, silver at $100. Good morning. I’m watching the stock ticker and looking up an old formula. This info is partly useful to seasoned investors. Most silver is bought and sold in stages, making tax treatment difficult. I won’t get into detail but you might find the concept amusing, it’s one of those equations on accounting exams that few ever use in practice. Mixed nuts. Imagine this.

           The boss says we have 5 pounds of cashews that cost $X, 7 pounds of filberts at $Y, and 20 pounds of peanuts at $Z. There are usually three questions. If all are mixed, what price should he charge? What is the mix that uses all the peanuts that would maximize the price? And what is the mix if he wants to sell it for $P per pound. Let me know if you get it.

           No pics, but all the spots where they placed the EKG and other patches over my torso have all turned red and sore. Or more precisely, the spots where they tore them off after, and we are talking around 40 of them. They took a layer of my dermis with them and I’m not pleased. Winter storm Fern is heading this way, so I’ll do some shopping before the surge. Hey, aren’t surges associated with hurricanes, not blizzards? Yes, but I meant the prices, ha-ha.
           This tight-money stretch is not helping with the vet bills, so I dug into the bin. I cannot have the Reb worried about Chooks, who has a paw cyst. I do not dabble in gold, now $5,000 per ounce, but I set these four grams aside for an emergency back in 2012. They are going to be very welcome news in Tennessee in about another hour.

           The market price for the gold was $163 per ounce, the best I could get in reality was $140. As for the $102 for silver, I received $90. Keep this in mind, investors, seeing and getting are not the same. Same with women. An article on campus women had me do a search of hippie chicks from back in my college days. It took just moments to learn every last picture of slender blonde babes in their early teens has been scrubbed from the Internet. Lots of Japanese, though. Anything even close is either not blonde or never shows a bare midrift, with the exception of what are really young-looking adult women with fat thighs.
           Another consequence of tight money is pet health. Chooks has developed a limp, but the –x-ray alone is $300. There is the issue of teeth, which I do not fully consider important. I have not seen a dentist in decades. If I survive the bypass, I intend to make an appointment. I understand the need for canine dental, but not why we had pets in my day that never needed this and lived long and happy.

Picture of the day.
Prison cafeteria.
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           I had to run the Hyundai into town. It has all the same repairs not done since last Octover when money got tight. A slow leak in one rear tire (which is otherwise brand new), the crack in the tailpipe, a battery that slowly dies, and the starter is located under the hood. But, it still saved my bacon today and may do so again next week. I would have no hesitation to take it to Miami, but I must replace the portable air compressor. I could use a smaller unit now that I have an extra storage tank I had not planned on. But is that wise?
           The storm is due Sunday, so I stocked up on coffee and some canned goods. Never need much and after twenty-five years in Montana, nothing in Florida is that bad. How about the New York forecast of “3 to 16” inches of snow. That sort of accuracy is their motto. My food prep amounted to making a key-lime pie, which will be ready by midnight. Wheeling the shopping cart a bit was an effort, so I’m planning an evening of Austin Powers re-runs. Sure he’s a cornball, but I guarantee you he gets 100 times more than my brothers.

           This weekend is dedicated to a lot of planning. At every stage it is scary to note that, as far as relying on anybody for anything, I’m on my own. Of the dozen people I know best in the area, not one would constitute a dependable ally. This means every contingency I can think of must be set (and paid for) in advance. What I do know is even if with zero complications, they will keep me in the hospital a week, and from asking around, three weeks is not uncommon. My money schedule is fried, I could land back here with my phone and wifi cut off, etc.
           There you go, none of these things ganged up on me while times were good. I hope the system hates people like me. I’ll never know how they know just when to strike. If I completely cover myself for the worst-case scenario, the next four weeks is going to cost me $1,800 more than I have. If nothing further goes wrong (like a major KIA repair next Monday, the best I can do is break even. It’s ho-hum blog material, but recorded out of long-term habit and the fact this is, in the end, a daily journal.

           I have spent a day or two in the hospital, and not being the TV type, it was hell on me. There were places like Mt. Sinai that never even had magazines to read. I had to pay a nurse to smuggle me crosswords and a Time. That says a week will be an ordeal and demands some careful anticipations. I cannot read Arduino more than two days without overload. As I’m writing this, I realize this is similar to the way I plan many projects. Why not treat this as an opportunity, to try something I’ve not had time for?
           Work with me, or the challenge could become finding something. No planning for any movement or motor skills. I’ve talked to others who say the hours of nothingness are the ordeal. They are unlikely to let me play bass, so put on the old thinking cap. Is this a good spot to mention if my hands don’t get better, my bass-playing days are over. Well, maybe I could revert to using just two fingers like my brother and join up with the Hippie again. The situation, boys, she’s mighty mercurial.
           Starting soon, New Yorkers will be ticketed for driving 1 mph over the speed limit. The cameras never blink. Three tickets and you lose your license. Then again, I’ve always said such people deserve each other.

ADDENDUM
           Plenty of reports are flying about the massive fraud schemes in Minnesota, which should have been kicked out of the union in 1965. Anyway, nobody is reporting how the scams worked, so this is your lucky day. No, the people that ran them were not clever operators who figured out how to scam the system. None of them are that smart. There are no Lex Luthors in the Atlantic Northeast. Here’s how it generally works.
           You open a “Democrat-style” non-profit, a charity. Choose a bleeding heart name, like “Feed the Hungry Whales” and apply for a Minnesota government grant. Whaddaya know, you get approved and a $2 million dollar check arrives. You feed the whales, and ask for another $2 million and notice the money arrives without anybody bothering to check if you really fed the whales. This is America and we use the “bribery” system. That is where the genius police arrest the person who takes the money but not the person who paid it.

Last Laugh

January 22, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 22, 2025, as for Caltier.
Five years ago today: January 22, 2021, a new socket.
Nine years ago today: January 22, 2017, this door was fun.
Random years ago today: January 22, 2014, Banquet or Swanson?

           Silver tops $99 as I head back to the cabin. Remember the lovely things I said about Florida knowing when you are short money? I left Miami at 4:30AM, it isn’t really driving at night because of street lights and city glow all the way out past Weston. Needing more think time, I took some side roads after dawn past Moore Haven. And the park road off Zolfo route 66. Only to have my KIA conk out nine miles from town. I got it started and have a [repair] appointment on Monday. I have to repair it or use the Hyundai. See, it’s Florida.

           The trip was nice, here’s a clip of the scenic route via that park west of Sebring. It’s a small area of “everglades” miles from the real thing. I needed the thinking time, it was just a few notches too cool to drive with the window down. I had earlier tried to stop in Clewiston for a coffee. Guess I forgot the only thing open in that town this early in the morning is the drive-thru liquor store.

           I limped home in the van and hit the mattress for six hours. Who knows, would it not be nice to find some day soon I don’t need to be doing that so often? I am losing the executor of my estate as well. Just doesn’t want the job any more. I’d say so what, but some time back JZ and I talked about this and he’s pointed to situations, where in combination with other behavior, is the onset of worse to come. I sure as hell hope he’s wrong, I really like this lady.

           My radio picked up NPR, it’s gotten too radical. Myself, I find that Vance guy scary. His manner suggests he is role-playing, that is, the minute he gets any real power he could revert to Democrat ugly in a wink. He even looks the part. And Evil Jack the special prosecutor (against Trump) began to stutter when stating under oath he cannot remember who swore him in. Autopen?

           Here’s a sample of the type of newspaper in Miami that is never even seen on racks much north of there. Pure anti-Trump and constant. How about when Denmark decided they would negotiate, so Trump did not impose the tariff? The liberal press screamed that Trump had “lost” and was “retreating”. It’s the kind of malarkey that makes me go shopping for key lime ingredients, which is what I did.
           KIA contacted back saying the van also has two more recalls, so I may be driving the Hyundai a while. I know this type of failsafe backup is expensive, but welcome to the reality of how America is set up. If you don’t cover your arse, they’ll help you out—and send you the bill.

Picture of the day.
Typical GenX advertising.
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           A long chat with the Reb; I will step in again. This, by any standards, is a unique conjuncture of unique lives. My motives, I emphasize, are not musical and have nothing to do with situationships. I repeat, even if, I say if, my heart is repairable, I will thereafter not live long enough afterward to see any return on conventional investments. And no guarantee I would be able to take full enjoyment of it anyway. But that would change if this album takes off, in fact, one of the tracks is already out there and dong well enough.
           Another factor easy to overlook is karma. How did I know when I bought this silver so long ago that it was not destined for this circumstance? It is outlandish thinking, but I also know people who can only dream of playing such a direct hand in their own destinies. The upside is a remaining few years of old age where I owe the world considerably less than the nothing I owe it now, and would carry an extra-legitimate reason not to give anybody a damn. It’s quick lesson time.

           When people speak of calculated risk, what is the calculation? You wouldn’t expect me to believe they actually sit down and scribble out the arithmetic odds. I find in reality, it is a bet against what you might lose. To refresh the concept, there are three ways to lose.

1) you don’t make as much as you’d planned.
2) you break even.
3) you spend years repaying debt.

           Of course, I’m referring only to the first two. I repeat my advice to never enter a contract where, if the other guy does not do as promised, you lose money. I have or have had plenty of type 1 which is ever the way I look at savings bonds. Item 2 is what represents the calculation part in my thinking. It involves ignoring opportunity costs (the best foregone alternative) and investing only what you can afford to lose. I can lose the silver money without breaking a sweat.
           That’s harsh and that condition did not arise by itself. I had that silver when I survived 2010 and when I spent my last dollar on this cabin. It represents a chance that never arose, a chance to defeat a world that tried to reduce me to a life of unskilled labor. A world that never really gave me a real break, but if I dare speak up, the jerkfaces will take issue. To those who fantasize that living in America is itself a break, go count the homeless. Because that is exactly where I began and why I do not know any homeless people today.
           Except, like, the hillbilly. But he’s at home, technically, in Frostproof for the next 24 years. I didn’t say that. Let me fast-forward to breakfast tomorrow. This is a nice picture of corn chex, coffee, and $3,500 in silver.

           To everyone in the universe who ever helped serve me this happy meal, here is your last chance to reach in and grab your share. Going once . . . .

ADDENDUM
           Will silver hit $100? I say yes, for that matter, when the Hunt brothers drove it to $48 back when, that’s like $160 today. There’s a good chance of simply buying by people who did not buy now jumping on the current bandwagon. I will sell in layered and planned stages and get out before the inevitable crash. Since production can’t be ramped up, the foolish people must be buying certificates. That’s a figure of speech, the silver mines. There isn’t really such a thing because silver rarely exists in veins. It is a byproduct of copper mining where it is considered, metallurgically, an impurity.

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January 21, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 21, 2025, he didn’t fire enough.
Five years ago today: January 21, 2021, my favorite window ever.
Nine years ago today: January 21, 2017, some DMV facts.
Random years ago today: January 21, 2013, Chinatopia.

           This is the day, the turning point in life, the news we knew was inevitable. As ever, I’ll report the day and you can fill in the blanks. This afternoon answered some questions, but there is no question any iota of physical or cerebral youth is gone. After a traditional breakfast, coffee grits and eggs, JZ and I went over the past year and what plans have changed. JZ figures into the plans because he has the only convenient place we can crash without getting in anybody’s way. What could go wrong?

           Plenty, starting with how not everybody is as good at anticipating foul-ups as you are. Nor do they adapt quickly. JZ has once more made the presumption that one of us will always be healthy enough at least get around. I will make no such mistake. The other factor both of us have missed symptoms that led to heart problems. Many Americans with no health insurance will tend to ail worse because they dodge expensive checkups.

           The problem is, after they finally get insurance, they still delay. That’s where JZ is at, he not only had a bad stroke, he downplays the seriousness of the consequences. I know if one of us took a fall, the other could not help him up. We made it to the Pinecress library, but once again Google blocked my accounts—can’t open the blog without a code sent to an addy I can’t open without a code. So I glanced at silver, just passed $94. We know something will go wrong, ha!
           The only snap I have for you this morning is the KIA parked outside Publix. JZ shops at the most expensive place in his city. I’m avoiding mentioning my impending gloom over this afternoon’s probably outcome. Imagine, the scans of my heart showed no irregularity because my whole heart was irregular. Wait, I have one more graphic for you, from last day at the car auction.

           Across the way was a wrecking yard, so while waiting, I zipped over (with as much zip as I could muster) to see about the part for my broken van door handle. All that did was confirm nobody has that for my particular model. You’ve heard of junk yard dogs, so I got you this junk yard cat. So there, don’t say I’m not at least trying and at least I’m not crying.

Picture of the day.
Abandoned Elkmont, TN
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           After a 95 minute drive the 33 miles to the clinic, the news is all bad. One reason none of my heart tests did not show contrasts was because there wasn’t any—the problem is my whole heart. It needs a complete rebuild. Two doctors including the head guy himself went over my charts four times. There was even a video that looked like my heart dyed purple, but I don’t know. Stents are no longer an option, I require quadruple bypass surgery. You got triple? Rookie, I got quad.
           My ticker is plain worn out, past the best-before date. This operation has a historical 50% chance of survival. I’ll have the best treatment money can buy so I don’t get the procedure, my odds are 0%. I was in the clinic for two hours and the operation is slated for next week. If this blog disappears, that means it is bye-bye. But be patient, I no longer have any Internet access in south Florida.

           The libraries in Miami-Dade now demand Florida ID and proof of residency, and they are real AOLs about it. Picture ID scans. I asked about a guest pass, they still want ID and a fee. If you don’t like fat, stupid housewives flapping their jowls, stay away from the library staff. They do not understand that “public library” is a legal term and if I have to pay $38 for a something, there is nothing “guest” about it.
           And one more thing. I do not know of even one person in Florida who could do more on the Internet than hunt and peck. In my semi-wide circle of people, there is not a single serious user. The most tech-savvy would be Agt. M, who must use the Internet every day. He could not adjust his thermostat, start his car, or unlock the church door otherwise. Andyou know something? He was unable to look up the price of silver last day.
           Half of the big wall in his living room is TV, but there is no connected mouse or keyboard. To move the cursor requires the TV remote, which is very slow. To move to the lower right, where most conclusion buttons are located, takes an agonizing amount of time, aggravated by how the remote can only up and down, it cannot move the arrow diagonally.

           Yet, he is the most advanced user I know. Let me explain the big issue. I first used a computer 52 years ago, and I learned all serious users must type or get left behind. In those days, there was no packaged software. You bought a book of code printouts and carefully typed in maybe 60 pages of commands. If you did not touchtype, you would still be entering and debugging that code 10 years later when Gates came along. To anyone too young to remember, you had to buy the whole book to get that one program you wanted.
           The trick was to buy the pirated EEE at a third the price. That’s the “Eastern Economic Edition”, that is, printed in India on tissue paper. I’m not making this up, in the early days after you key-entered a thousand lines of code, you didn’t need instructions on using it.

           My point being how typing is pretty much a prerequisite, even today, for meaningful interaction with a computer. You might think after five decades, I would belong to an elite fellowship of like-skilled users with whom to consult and network. You’d be wrong. In the 25 years I’ve been in Florida, I’ve never socially met anyone who can type.
           But I have met innumerable people who rate themselves power users. That’s the bunch who use Apple laptops to check their e-mail and pretend they don’t spend most of their other on-line hours watching porno. I mean, seriously, what else can you do with a computer when you cannot type? That’s a rhetorical question, I don’t want to know.
           So telling me those who cannot type are productive users is a lot like telling me my brother knows how to read textbooks. You are probably correct, but I'd largely be taking your word for it.

           There, I am in a super poor mood after this afternoon. I stopped at the Captain’s for a beer and did not stay. It is now less pub with food and more a restaurant that serves beer. Remember, GenXers, if you sit at a booth and eat food, it makes you not just another dumb drunk. I learned that from Hank, the shrink. It’s somehow classy to be a slobbering sot if you write poetry for a living. Most of the place was people around my age and I had nothing in common with them.

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January 20, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 20, 2025, productivity 17%
Five years ago today: January 20, 2021, my only papaya tree.
Nine years ago today: January 20, 2017, Russian warm spells.
Random years ago today: January 20, 2001, Alfredo told him.

           Welcome to a day of mostly thinking. Yep, my party days are over. I was up at 5:30AM so I read my textbook until others came around. I finally “cracked” the way they used bitwise commands, a mixture of code I never appreciate. A breakfast of goat cheese on toast, Agt M. and I went over the medicals and the Cadillac. I may have to hit him up for another hospital ride. We tested every feature on that vehicle and talked. It was a flash of the old days, my plans, his technique, and I was needing a rest every half hour. Not good, but tomorrow I talk to the surgeon.

           But the kids will never settle down if I’m around so I said adios and headed for Miami. I drove through the old downtown and it has been wrecked. It’s now more a retirement condo canyon than the old tourist trap. All the wee shops that gave the place character are gone. The bookstores, the magic shop, the shoemaker, and the coffee shops. Poof, gone! Replaced by tattoo parlors, shigga-booga bars, and expensive eateries that do not open until late afternoon.

           The pawn shops remain. But the rest is cash advance outfits, marijuana dispensaries, and art shops whose lack of clients tell you they are probably money laundering fronts. Young Circle is now the “Arts Park’ and a skateboard ramp. The old Southern Hotel (many other names) is now a Food court with the upstair windows bricked up. Here’s a glimpse of my stunt double taking a stroll past, quite unimpressed.
           I kept busy past rush hour and then drove over to Snapper Creek via 826, listening to the second-last disk of the shrink story. It is finally picking up. The mob guy whose car was sideswiped showed up at his house with a knife and forced the daughter, Daisy, to strip. This reveals she is three months pregnant off some Italian from her French art studio. Henry saves the day by telling the thug there is a new treatment for his mental problems. But not before the goon notices a book of poetry on the table and forces Daisy to read a poem that calms him.

           He lets down his guard and the guys jump him, throwing him down the stairs. So there, folks, is your vindication that sending your daughter to poetry school could one day save your life. We are not done yet, as Hank must now rush to the hospital to save the life of the goon who just tried to kill him.

           It’s not just downtown that’s gone, entire beachfront and inland along the boulevard is got to seed. Bland concrete towers. Remember that old hotel that got by attention with all the antennas on the roof? Shown here, it is now an empty shell with nothing on top.

Picture of the day.
Rush E (impossible piano music).
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           By now, I have talked with a lot of people who’ve had bypass surgery. I seem to be right on the same path. The most common symptom is fatigue and guess what I found when I showed up at JZ’s. He’s a TV-watcher and I was so burnt out, I sat right down and, well, I sat there. He’s under the weather, seeming to catch every cough and cold, which seems to leave me along. Nobody had the energy to change the channel, so we watched a documentary concerning divorce, I got to tell you about this one.

           Overall divorce rates are falling except for women over 50, who are filing at double the historical numbers. They interviewed 8 women and showed outtakes of another 18 or 20. I found it farcically amusing. It was quickly plain all these women had one thing in common. They were all long-term TV addicts. That was avoided in the narrative, but the theme was constant. After 30 years of watching soaps, they decided their lives were empty, meaningless, and lacked “fun”. Me thinks what such dodo old people really get divorced from is reality. Finally he found the remote and we watched “Oceans 11”.

           Sure enough, he has not been shopping since I was last around. I got us over to CVS, here he is, looking at just one segment of the available cough medicines. That photo is so exciting, here is another. This is Agt. M discovering how so many things fit exactly into his Golder Ratio boxes, such as these two reams of printer paper.
           This revitalized it enough that we ate steak and potatoes, discussing investments and medical procedures. He knows as much about money as I do about cardiac surgery, namely about nil. But there is an alarming failure rate with the type of work I need. The good news is they would hardly slate such an operation on a truly weak heart that might not survive. And he is moving too slow. I told you his habit of shrugging away coughs and such, now a year later he’s fooling nobody trying to pretend that stroke was not as bad as all that.

ADDENDUM
           Once more, a somewhat arbitrary video generates a big viewership, so there it is for posterity. I think the unusual flora of Florida may have some lure to people used to seeing mostly cactus or pine trees. Enjoy.

Last Laugh

January 19, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 19, 2025, silver was $31.
Five years ago today: January 19, 2021, Loretta’s a natural.
Nine years ago today: January 19, 2017, remember adultery radio?
Random years ago today: January 19, 2008, a counter-weight system.

           If you are reading this, I’m likely undergoing a scan to rule out my heart (or totally blame it), which all told has behaved very will since 2010. You don’t get rid of me that easy. If all works out, I’ll leave the hospital famished and on my way to Agt. M’s place. If not, this blog #7,876 marks the end of a remarkable era of American history. To me, anyway, ha-ha. Nobody knew as we lived through it this would be the last happy generation. Even though I was relegated to the sidelines, we would never have it so good again. Complacency let the wrong people wrest control of the best nation the world has ever seen— “best” meaning provided you were born right, anyway. This was a filler video, but over 1,000 clicks means it stays.

           Since the info I have for momentarily is not happy, here from the blog that dares is a photo of a rat snake skeleton. Notice how distracted that got you? Good, because within the hour things got depressingly low ebb for me. Stripped to the butt, the cheerful staff wheeled me into a theater and wired me up. I drew certain attention because I had arrived with some reading material, knowing I was in for some boring and empty stretches. It was my Arduino [textbook] determined to (if need be) memorize that chapter on shift registers.

           Around half the staff found the book rather interesting, so I may have inspired some to follow up. That, plus I knew when to ask about keeping the book nearby, you see, I’ve been in the hamster cage before.
           So you get another nature park photo, the snake skin is also in the photo, around the perimeter. Bonus!

           By noon, we have the test results and they are not good. Blog rules you get at least some of the details. Called a catheter scan, the plan was to go through the wrist, something new I wanted to see. But within seconds the doc told the nurse to add a sedative to my drip and said he must go through the groin. I knew right there he’d found something I would not like. It was probably valium as I drifted quickly away and stayed that way another 2-1/2 hours.

Picture of the day.
Famous Last Place Burgers
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           Since I was in dreamland, I get to miss mid-day and they kept me on another two hours as the doc reviewed the findings. Alas, there is no simple solution now, I am beyond what little time there is left without drastic measures. I have a worn-out heart that needs a total rebuild. There are four small but serious blockages that cannot be repaired by stents. Kudos to the stents, they did last for 23 years. The extra wait in recovery, with my nice book, of course, was due to time needed to interpret my results. They took some kind of video over the criticalness of the situation.
           I must, at my advanced age, finally get major surgery and they are determining how to proceed. You’ll be first to know, but this could bring most everything to a stop. The grim ending of today was an appointment set on Wednesday with a cardiac surgeon. I know nothing of this field and am relying totally on my ultimate insurance coverage to get me the best doctors available for this. They did mention the Bennett Center, I can hope that is the choice. They are by reputation and fact the best, higher rated than Mt. Sinai.

           This picture cheered everyone up. It was 3:30PM by the time they wheeled me outside to Agt. M, who had the kids in the car who know that spells pizza. For me, that was also breakfast. Despite that nice dream-filled sleep, which included a mild anaesthetic, I was totally recovered and disobeyed the doctor’s orders. How? Well, they told me not to drive, but that was this morning. You are looking at the new club Cadillac. I never cared for Cadillac vans, and this one has ridiculous rear leg room. Unless you are carrying kids only.
           This unit is an auction write-off, it was flooded by sea-water. So Agt. M picked it up for $1,450. Salt will eventually corrode it away, we ripped out the seats and the water got around that high. They are drying on the fence. Shown here, we were over in Opa-Locka getting it fired up (the battery was stone dead). A true luxury vehicle, we hung a plate on it and I followed him home, illegal but countless people do this.

           It was too chilly for me, he stayed out till midnight assessing the damage. The good news is the wiring is the culprit—and guess what kind of thing the robot club is good at fixing? Yep, once that is done, this rig should last a good five or six years before giving troubles. Not bad for the price. But I still do not like it. The job of getting it here was a great example of why the club worked so well in its heyday. Agt. M is terrible at scheduling and planning, that is my department. I just arrived, so at the auction yard, it took three hours to get the thing running, a task that should have taken 45 minutes.
           The delay is lack of planning. No cables, wrong wrenches, so many plastic hoods and covers. I was not much help, but once he took the battery out of the car, got the Caddy running, and put the battery back, we were home in another half hour. Hooray, robot club.

Last Laugh

January 18, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 18, 2025, rapid unscheduled disassembly.
Five years ago today: January 18, 2021, most common lotto number: 6.
Nine years ago today: January 18, 2017, I built a door!
Random years ago today: January 18, 2001,fifty smackeroos!

           Sadly I report it took me hours to pack a suitcase and get underway. The bright side is this trip will get us the information I need to plan ahead. I didn’t leave until 3:30PM but all the birdfeeders and local business is good for a week if it takes that long to return. If I stay more than two days, my plan is to get across town and crash a JZ’s. He needs the diversion and I fear he’s become too accepting of his situation. Nobody is helping the guy out to a meaningful degree. Thanks, people, this fish gif got 1,500+ views. Probably an anomaly, but thanks.

           Expect the next week of posts to be a bit mixed, as I no longer have a workable travel computer. I’ll check into a tablet, even though there is no longer a word processor in both, I would be able to compose blot entries on-line. That’s about as close as I ever want to voluntarily get near the dreaded cloud. I took the direct route, stopping only in Clewiston for an empanada and coffee. My gal was not there so the coffee was lousy. That the Punto Rojo, which you may see here as Punta Roja if I do not override the spell-checker. I do not know the Latino interpretation for this change from the feminine to masculine spelling.

           The Reb called and as par, they want more money and there is only one place left to get any. I know that big fat lump sum in Caltier is sitting there, but that is the one site that cannot be touched. Silver racked up to nearly $95, but if that gets used, I will own a sizeable portion of the recording contract. This was not meant to be the plan but you know my natural hesitancy to avoid strangers and their usually ill-gotten investment money. Besides, the system is set up now that it takes at least one month and up to three to get anything out of Caltier.

Picture of the day.
Latest “laser-engraved” ID style.
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           I’m in Hollywood, Florida, and moving slow, but with the utmost dignity and such. The door was open, so I plunked down on Agt. M’s sofa and flaked out until he got home. Then there is no chance of sleep as the kids know when I get there it’s like party time. Normal bedtime is 8:00PM but by 10:00PM we are still playing guitars, ukeleles, and reading our favorite science books That last one is amusing because when I grew up most academic material was years out of date. Plus, the kids have learned no matter how new the material is, there’s, shall we say, not that many grownups around who know anything about it.

           By now you’ve noticed the rug rats getting more guitar lesson in a half-hour than at the academy in a month. How terribly I lament that I never having anyone to show me this. Not just as a child, but ever. Most of this I had to still figure out myself. They are still too young to know the real benefit. It is further amusing how they already are being sold the old “lead player” attitude by their school. In reality, lead playing is a set of memorized patterns you either naturally play well, or can learn.
           I arrived exhausted but the kids had enough surplus energy to keep me awake. Plus, there is endless coffee, that’s robot club all the way. Agt. M is now domesticated and can never prioritize the club again. Also, good food slows us all down. One staple you may not know is creamed spinach. On a layer of this recipe, and egg is breakfast, a pork chop is lunch, and a steak can be supper.

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