THIS IS A HEADER - scroll down one page to begin blog--->

This blog is formatted for a full screen desktop monitor.
VIDEO HAS SOUND.

===============================================
THIS BLOG IS NOT FORMATTED FOR ANDROID.

TMOR (to my overseas readers): this blog
DOES NOT represent any average American life-style.

Warning. This blog has evolved through many phases and earlier posts did not allow for links that go dead or change. I never intentionally link to sites that require memberships or similar. Same with sites that don't pass my stringent filtering system. Thus, I encourage readers to NOT follow any links that attempt to redirect, use cookies, or are obvious wrong material for this publication, which is rated PG13.

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.

May 13 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 13, 2025, queso zaragoso..
Five years ago today: May 13, 2021, uncomfy buffeting?
Nine years ago today: May 13, 2017, peculiarity in public.
Random years ago today: May 13, 2011, lost syntax error.

           I am still in Miami. It’s true I don’t know anybody with a workable computer to post. So wait until I get home. Yep, it is sad how little the generations around me know about the computer as a tool. Those older than me either have no computer or have one they can barely use to get on line to game and check the weather. Those younger are no help either. They have four or five favorite apps but cannot type or spell or use a spreadsheet, yet consider themselves power users because they are on-line 15 hours a day.

           Today was mostly driving around, let’s see if I can find anything more lively. There is the lastest aqua-toy for those who are about to learn how boring the bottom of lakes and oceans really are.

           We did not go chasing women as planned last evening. I got home and fell asleep. Nine hours later I was home here today, same thing again. Zonked out. I had one appointment and I fasted, which turned out the right plan. Because for all the plans and promised made during my recent stay, my primary care clinic had not received any of the records. More worrisome, what records they had were wrong, showing me checking into the wrong hospital on the wrong day.

           I was in for a checkup and got scolded for not following up, but each clinic could say that without knowing I never was more than 14 days without being monitored or examined. Just not all in one place. But, there was no getting around more blood tests and they did a second take when they saw the still-healing bruises on my arms. I half-knew they want me back in a week. The gas for this trip was $120 and I arrived back here on fumes. I took Hwy 27 most of the way, a great day for a nice slow trip in the Hundy, which behaved well.

           The two clinics are only 8 miles apart, so I went up to new place to double-check on a few things, including the return of the LiveVest. It’s a good concept but the reality is I just went the critical 3-1/2 months without it. The plan is to test my heart again and see if I’m still groping along at 35%. That would surprise me, because the way I’ve been feeling, doubling that to 70% would give me super-powers.
           Got to love that report of the dude who got himself hired, corrected a software bug that has been bothering him for months, then quit. And besides, few things better demonstrate what thin margin of understanding today’s “coders” have compared to traditional programmers.
           Best I can do is round you up some random photos of the last 48 hours. Here’s time at the Pinecrest library, where the staff are anointed by above to keep you from viewing anything they don’t approve. And partially ugly, sluggish librarians do not approve of very much, I must tell you.

Picture of the day.
Classic ha-ha fence.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           It’s fire season again, which coincides with the Florida rainy season. It takes political genius to have the two coincide every damn year. Here is the view westbound on Griffith last day. There seems little logic to spending millions dousing these fires when a simple annual plowing of the perimeter would contain them.

           I went uber-easy on the Hundy, taking the 55-mph lane home on an unusually quiet Hwy 27. This trip was disappointing, but then, I don’t have any room to complain—you should have seen the other patients in that waiting room. The clinic as a small exercise test area for people due for 8-month checkups. Talk about a grim-faced lot.

           Often, I use long drives to reminisce and review “cautionary” events, today was an example. Daily life is too interesting to fit this thinking in most of the time. Cautionary means a review of lessons from the past that are advance warning signals that continue to crop up all through the rest of life. Like why, without any planning, there are certain types of people who have never gotten past my gates. That’s why, when I bitch about them, it is generally third-party from a distance. That was always one of my incentives to operate at a surplus—you can reject having to deal with arseholes on a regular basis.
           I have published (anonymously of course) my latest version of my theory that libtards have certain traits in common. Not their behavior. You can get an endless stream on that from any social media. I mean the root cause behind why they are so detested and detestable. Wow, talk about backlash—but my theory encloses that behavior by subsumption. While my theory goes back 60 years, thought I did not necessarily have the vocabulary or ammunition to fend off the inescapable reprisals.

           Sometimes called the “Fairview Theory”, you know it by essence. It is the explanation of the twisted thinking of liberals, gossips, and most people who hate you for having a good time. It states the instrumental factor these people have in common is two-fold. They must go through their teens without getting any (or if they do, they get into trouble). That’s stage one—no sex back at the real and only time it counts for anything (it can take a while for the socially inept/inert to wrap their heads around that one).
           The trouble starts at stage two. They get out of high school into a complex different world where the competition is even worse. They fall to thinking those lost sex times can be recaptured by everything from pick-up lines to career success to forceful measures such as prohibition. But it never works. They never again get the young pretty ones. Ah, but we’ve been over that.

           What’s new is my contention that these types never get women under 25 who are not hookers. They know it, the women know it, and the world knows it. So to such people, every woman under 25 automatically becomes a “minor”. So, you can from that piece together what is really bothering such assholes, and why they become such staunch and unwelcome designated drivers. Now, that’s all pretty heavy, especially for the victims, and did I just say ‘subsumption’?

Last Laugh

May 12, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 12, 2025, that problem roof corner.
Five years ago today: May 12, 2021, a brace of tests.
Nine years ago today: May 12, 2017, begin laundry room.
Random years ago today: May 12, 2014, free information.

           Today was planned for getting around and that D-Day movie. No such luck, a closer investigation showed the movie was about D-Day, not quite the same thing. The movie is about a pending Atlantic storm any historian would know about. The landing (it is not an invasion) has to take place at the coincidence of a low tide and full moon. The plot was about how this gale complicated an already-tense situation, so I did not care to see it. How about a movie that presents the German side? I’d watch that.

           Ha, you think you were bored today? Here’s the car wash after that bug swarm west of Okeechobee y’day. Good thing the sun was behind me. Another disappointment is always the Pinecrest library, where the employees think they own the place and you are lucky they even let you in there.

           The consolation prize for no movie was to be a feast at the Chinese food joint over on 140th. No such luck, after the long drive over, the premises are vacant. Anoter victim of Joe’s anti-small-cash-business rampage of 2020. That’s right, folks, when I see an established business 25+ years fold these days, I know who to blame. We opted for the Cantonese Kitchen on Dixie. It’s more of a sushi joint, when you walk in and see ordering kiosks instead of waitresses, you kind of know the place has been millennialized. Plus, the aroma of non-authentic dineries is different, it has that hint of “franchise”. But we maxed out on chicken fried that was pretty close enough.

           Best I can do for today is some extra photos or videos. Here is a video taken for the hell of it, proof I don’t ignore my chores on sunny days. If you’ve notice there is time-to-time a lag in the Random years link, here is the reason. That is, you may often see it is the last to be filled in, sometimes a delay of a few days. The Yesteryear feature is not an afterthought. It is actually time consuming and labor-intensive. But you are worth it.

           I’ve tried printing/pasting up the links in advance, but it fails the currency test, that is, each day has its own sapidness, a rare word. It is a quality that offsets that link in unclear ways that seem to impact the daily relativity (or currency, as in current here and now) of the rest of the post. It has to be done at time of actual posting to capture that element. It also explains why sometimes you get a link to less than 48 months ago—something sparked the junction and I don’t always know what. Ain’t got time for that.

Picture of the day.
Kildare sewing champions.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           More videos/photos instead of text means I’m tired. That’s an underwater metal detector. And a barely successful attempt to focus the new camera on some ducks.

Last Laugh

May 11, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 11, 2025, hundreds of them.
Five years ago today: May 11, 2021, eight such logs.
Nine years ago today: May 11, 2017, more French toast.
Random years ago today: May 11, 2011, a nothing day.

           Reading this? I must be in Miami. A text arrived of a Monday cancellation and I jumped on it. But I have no way of reporting it because I have no tablet and the current form factor of laptops is unsuitable. They are okay for the Starbucks squad, who like to lug them along to pretend they are working, but not for me. The tablets of today lack a decent word processor and we do not do subscriptions or rent software. This cactus photo stays, I did not think Florida droughts and freezes were all that popular.

           That’s a good one, the number of people who would say that [hand-writing letters] makes me old fashioned, out-of-touch, and unaware of the thousands of wonderful apps they use. It rarely occurs to such people they are the ones reading my work, but the point is—who is really behind the times? Can anyone name one thing on a computer that I have not trialed, tested, and probably rejected?

           Are you texting? Not me, it is slower than Morse, and I only do it because others have no other options, that is, they are living in the past. Are you word-processing personal letters? Not me, I quit that back in 1996 for all important people. If they are important, you can hand-write. The strange part is this is not “old” behavior, when you think about it. All the “new” apps of today are careful remarketing of ancient ideas packaged up for the moron masses. Did you know there are people out there who actually think bulletin boards are something new if you call them “Instagram”.

           It was a good news day, the rest of this morning was a slow drive into town, pampering my Hundy, never over 60 mph. Remember the two vehicle rule or eventually you will be walking. I mean working vehicles, and at the moment I have only one. Here is another plant picture, this is a vine growing on the tree trunk. I’d been past it but a glance fooled me it was a moss. If you know what this plant it, shoot me a comment.

           Arriving early enough, I stopped in at the marina stores and just missed a class German brass sextant three weeks ago. The owner at Sailorman, who is even older than me, says if he sees another anything like it, he’ll save it for me. I looked over their wares, it’s a great place to just look around. They have tons of used gear all in excellent shape. Have a gander at these silber and gold plated yacht piece. Some are bathroom water knobs. It’s a guessing game what stories they could tel. Nope, I did not enquire where they came by this lot.

           I rewarded this good checkup today by presenting myself with a gift. It is called a navigation triangle, I believed we overed this before. Well, now I have one and you will certainly see photos of this in action, so I do not have one for you at the time. It’s $25 for a piece of plastic, but I have for a while known I need to physically draw dozens of charts to amalgamate a method that works for me. The triangle is just a convenient method for scribing exact angles using the chart compass rose. You can use a ruler, but that is subject to error. Trust me, I know.

Picture of the day.
Wooden bridge inspection.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           The good news was my checkup. Turns out the sore spots were nothing more that my system overgrowing the stitches. Those are not gone resulting in an instant improvement. Three of the stitches were bigger than the rest, it was these giving the maximum trouble. They slated the stitches to say eight weeks, this was week six. If they were self-dissolving as they said, there was no indication they had changed at all.

           The discomfort was distressing because any clothing or dressing would push the little stitch ends down, which in turn caused red soreness. Yes, I thought the worst, but there was no infection at all. The removal gave fast relief but also the impression of a cavity smack middle of my chest. It would eventually take two days for this to go away.
           For accuracy, these stitches are the bigger, cruder types that closed the original incision by brute force. They also gave a constant pulling sensation which is now considerably relieved. I was put off a bit by the “bunching” at the seam, but the wound is flattening by itself to a degree that could make it finally not that bad.

           Stopping for gas, I passed a novelty lollipop that had a laser the price $2.97. I’m saying a laser was an expensive instrument in my day, now I see it used to sell candy. I wanted to see this. I bought two in case I really did have a workable laser for just pennies. While feasting on ribs, corn on the cob, and red baby potatoes, I took one apart. It was disappointing for it was not a laser at all. But you say the video, it looked like a laser. The symbol is the Hot Wheels logo. So, how did they manage this?

           Ordinary red LEDs and a plastic lens. It’s our old friend, the 550 light emitting diode. All the waves are 550 nanometers—but the wavelengths are not aligned like a real laser. So, all you get is the color. It has a focal length, shown in the video. It does not stay as a beam. Quite the novelty item, however, a child’s toy.

           The signs of fatigue are my permanent companion now. Where we were once every mother’s nightmare, my evening was reduced to crossword puzzles (actually, I did all seven puzzles in every newspaper I could find in the place) and reverse-engineering this gadget. While half-watching the GRIT channel, whatever was on for free. JZ makes just enough grub to eat that meal, a sure sign of a short order past. While I will made up a whole batch, good for a day or two. Then I find out he tells his family, who get another laugh. I don’t get it. If you got room and inclination, make lots of leftovers.
           Signing off. I hope you also had a day as action-filled. Enough to share with the world. I congratulated myself for staying this animated though I do have trouble walking again. No jet-setting, but no vegetating either.

Last Laugh

May 10, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 10, 2025, Yeti Test B.
Five years ago today: May 10, 2021, owning: the best option.
Nine years ago today: May 10, 2017, I never use them.
Random years ago today: May 10, 2012, interesting predictions.

           If you like real Vitamin C, this was a big day. Summer is here and I’m already sorry I didn’t position the shed fans while it was cooler. The sheds are a shady blessing, but to work comfortably, the fans have to be facing directly on where you stand. This morning I was late feeding the cardinals and was supremely scolded. I hesitated getting up to steam to be sure I could work, which I did. Here’s some slats being cut for an extra box storage shelf.

           I’ve wanted that a while, now that most of my good stuff has nice boxes to store it in. The head’s up today was my habit of scribbling the date on various projects. And I see over the past week a plethora of unfinished projects which I now attribute to heart symptoms that encroached so mildly I did not catch them as fast as I thought.

           For me, the giveaway is having all the parts and tools ready, then a stopped project. Here’s a video of my double cutting the shelving slats in the 88°F heat inside the shed. The fan is on the wrong side of the room, so work fast. Here is a view of the shelf already in use. The boxes are mostly prototypes, so nothing matches. The top shelf thus had to be at least as high and deep as the biggest box. I had to clamber around in the dirt. I knew long ago that last shelf would be a pain.

           That was Rick on the phone. The guy is good for keeping in touch, grant him that. I spent some time in the kitchen clearing a spot, this just might work. I’ll use the old bachelor trick of piling everything on the sofa and throwing a blanket over it—to keep the dust off, you see.
           When I get to making boxes for all my tools and gear, I will have around three times the shelved containers you see here. Sorry, but it seems to be the only way I can even approach a clean work area. Part of the good news is using up a lot of my old lumber means I’m not buying any new except pickets, which are the cheapest lumber available.
           Hang on, another cancelled appointment, aha, 1:30PM tomorrow. That makes it convenient, I don’t have to get up early in my condition. It’s a neat system, if I don’t fit into cancelled slots, I have to make the appointments up to 8 weeks in advance. That kind of planning is fine for aimless people who have nothing in their lives that far ahead. At least not anything they would daily have to work toward. Plus, if I in turn miss the appointments, the office can bill me anyway. If Medicare has money for Somalis in Michigan, they got money for me.

Picture of the day.
Pomp.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           I had time to build two junk boxes. The recent spate of these has a simple basis. We are using up the mountain of boards and pieces that have accumulated. This began with the caddies. I lost track of how many were built as I tried to find something right-sized for my mismatched set of tools. I got wrenches and saw blades and at least 15lbs of “used once” screws that are perfectly good. All the shelves you see today used recycled material.

           So here is a view of some of the caddy types. One tool kit, such as a socket set, per box works for me. Caddy’s cannot be stacked, so I keep the total height as much below 11” as allows for a convenient carry handle. I found all these in the kitchen as I made room.

           Rick got interrupted this morning and said he’d call back. He didn’t, so the Florida trick is to begin something that makes the callback another interruption. See how that works? If so, I did not answer because India and I met up for a cold beer at Kooters. She is a total babe but no pictures because that, folks, is a bar as in saloon. We’ve been out of touch but you do not meet gals like India every day. In fact, you never do. Following is your overview of the evening, leaving out the part where every two minutes somebody comes along to hit on India while we are trying to map out marketing strategy.

           True, I’ve neglected Kooters, a folly, but I did my best to catch up. There is a Saturday guitar player, and he is reputedly damn good. That means I can’t team up with him, why whould he split his pay? Don’t sweat, I have that covered. But not until next week, since tonight was a lot to do with the boxes, the reason India figures so prominently with box design. She also knows the new owners socially, which could be a positive.

           This [photo] is the twin boxes a few hours ago, they are now with her inventory. The rustic design wins patrons again, the boxes often being the second matching set passersby notice about India. It was not an angle I had, but India pointed out these units make excellent fridge compartments. Turns out a dozen egg fit very nicely inside a box this size. These boxes were never intended to hold things like carrots and cucumbers—but who could stop them?

           I donated the box India didn’t choose to the bar. Seems it was an ideal size to plunk all the uncut limes, instead of the plastic food tray they were using. Back to music, the Saturday guy’s name is Jack and might know him. If not, India will take care of the introductions. It’s a formula, the guy does not need me, but need can quickly become preference. No solo can match dynamically arranged duo music. I have the new owner’s weekly schedule, but it is a long slow climb unless he’s already ready to move on it. Who knows, he may recall I was there asking when he first bought the place.

Last Laugh

May 9, 2026

ay 9, 2026 Saturday Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 9, 2025, he’s been to Wal*Mart.
Five years ago today: May 9, 2021, it won’t be popular.
Nine years ago today: May 9, 2017, mortgage help – the American farce.
Random years ago today: May 9, 1981, a curious entry.

           Rice krispies. I wondered how they puffed the rice. Now I know, they deep fry it. Good morning and recall the small boxes from y’day. Here is a video with them laser etched. These are prototypes only, as I strive to find something I can sell to the Florida rank and file. It is ordinary as in generic boxes with the word “FAKE” added. These have the burn on several faces as I experiment. In real life, each copy requires eight minutes, so no mass production here. And I thought Trump shut down commie radio, NPR.

           Yet NPR continues to broadcast the strongest signal. It’s the station of choice for divorced thirty-something women who need call-in dating advice from lisping queers and barren feminists. I’ve been meaning to check out the Auburndale line-dancing club for years, but have been distracted every time by something better to do.

           The Prez, my former guitarist, is published in some magazines and is how getting book readings. I don’t know how these work, other than it being a sales pitch. I got some reading done over hear, but it was boring navigation tables. Well, only boring if you don’t know what’s going on. And a message arrives, we have an appointment on Wednesday afternoon. I’ll have to take the Hundy and $200 for gas.

Picture of the day.
Eastern Idaho, I think.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           And that is what you get today because even doing little was too much. That’s it, I made cinnamon toast and fell back asleep. Until past 7:00PM. I tried a bit to get busy, to no avail. This was actually good, because it was not tired from any over-activity. Needed beauty rest and the day isn’t over yet. Let me watch some movies. Plural, movies, as I often watch two back to back to balance slow parts.
           When I woke, I noticed definitely flashbacks to the opioid nightmares from surgery. While now rare, the vividness has not diminished. I tried, using Paint, to duplicate what I see. The results were surprisingly accurate, shown here. I would point out this is not some idle illusion to brush away, but a solid, wide-awake vision, real as can be.

           The top part shows a sample of real text I’ll be reading. Just holding it on paper. This does not happen on-screen, only with physical paper. Then in roughly half a second, it changes to the lower panel. You can blink, rub your eyes, shake your head, but it is real.

           The paper changes to a charcoal color somewhat darker than you see here, and becomes brittle as if it has been burned but did not wrinkle. The font becomes larger and tinged with gold, I had to use orange here. The fiery glittering gold will outline some letters, as if the gold was behind the page but burned through in a tinge.
           It is as real as what you are reading, you cannot make it go away by turning the page and it sometimes moves slightly to one side, then returns. It is not disorienting or mysterious, but it is not exactly a tonic because you don’t know how long it will last. Usually a few seconds, never more than ten seconds and you cannot fight it. The effect on superstitious or suggestible people must be unearthly. It transforms itself before your eyes and it is fully realistic.

           The best solution for me is to put the book down and drift into a short nap. You cannot but wonder if this happens in other ways but you don’t notice it unless reading. Yes, it is the drug administered under anesthetic. The vision is regular and often, then tapers away at the same rate as other symptoms. Today’s attack was mild and short lived, scary both for the long interval and knowledge that they gave me only the minimum dose to separate my sternum in case I was one of the rare “conscious” types. I’m not.
           This puts me out of commission and coupled with my disrupted sleep habits since the operation, I lost this valuable Saturday. Even my last laugh isn’t that funny today.

Last Laugh

May 8, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 8, 2025, see the heat waves.
Five years ago today: May 8, 2021, early squirrelies.
Nine years ago today: May 8, 2017, here’s the glue.
Random years ago today: May 8, 2008, loving the comb.

           Will I accomplish my goal today of accomplishing nothing? A good start is the news. England’s Reform Party, a non-contender a month ago, has just won 300 seats. That’s Nigel Farage’s group, and he’s come from out of nowhere before. Toast and raspberry jam as I watch the redistricting trend. TMOR, see addendum. The “bible-changing” secret UFO files released show the same old fuzzy crap and captions we’ve seen before.. It’s me and the cardinals at dawn, my treat to a favorite, squeezed lime rinds floating in the birdbath.

           Here’s a blog first for you. This is the Mars Rover with a 26lb rock stuck on the drill bit. Dang thing would not come off, so this video is my rendering of the robot arm shaking the thing loose. But my version is speeded up so you don’t have to wait over 4 minutes (covering six days) for the NASA view to crawl along. Ah, I hear some of you saying how on Earth (ha-ha) did I do that with the NASA footage?

           Well, the NASA videos are really stepped photography, like gifs. Display it on any gif generator and skip any Save image instructions. It seems the software won’t work without hard images—but it will if you export the soft images directly, lowering the interval times to what you see here. FYI, this is now the 13th year the rover has been operating. Wish my van could claim the same. Most photos you see from Curiosity, the rover, are enhanced. Here’s a picture of what Mars looks like in true color. How do they know when the colors are accurate? Easy, there are small color palates on the rover, you rarely see them, but they can match up color wavelengths.

           Cost accounting differs from basic accounting in that if focuses on inputs, not results. One of the earliest lessons, and one you must grasp to pursue this topic, is that supply and demand are entities that do not meet at a precise point on a chart or in time. And the latest New York Dork has frozen rents. This does not work and, in the long run, cannot work. Buildings require maintenance. Freeze the rent, the building eventually becomes a slum—and which American city has the worst slums? A typical unregulated NY apartment rents for $5,000 these days. The regulated ones are collapsing in filth because nobody will live there.
           Mostly successful, I did very little all day long, though that was punctuated by two short naps and a stint in the back yard making sure my critters are happy. When they are fed, they are happy, kind of like girlfriends on your anniversary. I got a call, there is a slot next Thursday, though I’m hoping somebody will cancel before then. This is now the fifth day my leg has behaved and I celebrated with pork chops for lunch. That’s my food mention and yes, I did stock up y’day with 48 K-cups of assorted coffee.

           I looked for my paper slicer, no luck. What I’ve got is one of those metal recipe boxes, the large style, and wonder what it might look like if spruced up a bit. This view shows the box with me trying the look of a brass suitcase latch. The metal is thin and I have no way to attach pretty metal brass like this. I would have to line the box on the interior which takes me a long time. And I don’t have a secure supply of these boxes.
           And you do not, much longer, have a supply of printer ink I warned about this 30 years ago but thought it would happen sooner. You will only be able to buy ink from the printer company who will require your ID and you must have a subscription. It seems the subscription is $7 per month and must be attached to a "certified" bank account in your personal or company name. Otherise, the factory reaches out and disables the printer and ink that you only thought you bought and paid for. Those who get stung by this probably deserve it for their complacency. GenXYZ cannot invent or innovate, only get sneakier at carving themselves an ever bigger slice of your pie.

Picture of the day.
One end of the Great Wall.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Boxes by mistake. That’s these two units from today. I had jotted down the inside dimensions of the recipe box, intending to find some suitably thin wood for the lining. At the same time I was repairing the power chord on my fancy new stove light. I always wanted one of those neat night lights on the kitchen stove. Like the Reb has so the cats can see any leftover doggie bits in the dark I supposed. That was not easy with those old ceramic parts. Intending to build the smaller box you see here, I read my own directions wrong and built the bigger box. No big deal, there is a use for every box you’ll find on my turf.

           The old McGraw air tank is seeking a new lease, a small compressor inside here. Imagine dust-free computers, projects, and crumb free keyboards. I decided the damaged metal parts to be not a worthwhile repair. I may never get around to such a low-priority task, but if I do there are all kinds of hobby fittings available. It was also educational to dismantle the pieces. I now know how the pressure safety cutoff works.

           Undecided what to do with these boxes, I put them under the lase and etched the Fake symbox. The casing has an orange protective cover. So I positioned the old time lapse camera inside and found the laser is not at all the bright yellow visible through the protective lenses. It is a blue laser. And that concludes my nothing day. I thought it was quiet, nothing more than boxes, laundry, air tanks, Mars, birds, lasers, video edits, cameras, bass lines, navigation, and a transistor circuit or two.

           Then I called up JZ and growled at the guy. I find out from his sister his sleep apnea is worse than ever and he’s been hiding it. The guy pays a fortune for medical and won’t go see the doc. In fact he gets no help and that girlfriend of his makes things worse, and I don’t care if I speak up. I may drive to Miami and wait there for an appointment, best friends are rare in Florida.
           We also talked about neuralgia and I’ve got it, mostly in my lower limbs. He’s the medic on the crew and says it is all the healing process. It’s gone in the morning but back by suppertime, which impacts an important part of my day. So ends a nothing day aroune here.

ADDENDUM
           The kerfuffle over the voting districts is easy to understand. In America, voting districts are supposed to be areas of roughly equal population deemed to have a balance of interest in their local affairs. By chance, this means a district would normally encompass a large spectrum of political views. Seats are allocated by population, so over years, the Democrat party has continually grouped district by numbers of ethnic voters. Thus you get States that are 40% or more Republicans who have not a single seat in the legislatures.
           The recent SCOTUS ruling put a stop to that. The districts cannot be along racial lines and the Democrats are livid. Many of them gained their seats by the narrowest of margins. That was the problem, they kept redistricting year after year to gain those tiny edges. Those have now been wiped out.
           They will now have to go get real jobs, which I imagine is what scares them most. I do not know what happens to the rest of their terms if what they represent no longer exists. But it would explain why they never want to release voting records.

Last Laugh

May 7, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 7, 2025, testing the Yeti.
Five years ago today: May 7, 2021, western journalism.
Nine years ago today: May 7, 2017, 3:19AM.
Random years ago today: May 7, 2007, six bucks!

           This is why we have the back up vehicle. The KIA transmission, although we are getting it, is taking so long it throws me behind schedule. Today I insure the Hundy until I get the cash and time together. This involves spending a bit more cash on the Hundy but also means it is in better running condition. Remember, this time I had to shell out for a battery, that was $150. I will, in necessary, find a way to get a hole through the firewall and get the starter bypass switch inside the cab. I must get to Miami.

           Today, but for the back stories, is a nothingburger. I got the tools out of the dirt and the Hundy is now legit. Walking is too much, as in eight or so strolls back to the tool shed, which is a the very back of the yard. In that time, I built and installed this shelf above the bare back wall of the kitchen. Where the stove is. I’ve always wanted a small radio above the stove, now there it is. But what possible back story could this entail?

           Ahem, not only are you looking at the bare studs and siding, this picture is telling on me. This is a cabin, not a mansion. I don’t mind other people making $4,000 mortgage payments, give me comfy, and now we have radio—with a slant. Literally; If you peer closely, there are two shelves both were horizontally leveled when installed. Now you can see the slight difference. One was before I braced the kitchen floor to the right of this view, the other was today. That is why this cabin has character, Mr. & Mrs. Modern Shopper.
           I mustered enough vigor to get downtown and shop. Too low on coffee is not permitted, plus I stopped at Autozone to get the diagnostics on the Hundy. That was a new and expensive battery that went dead sitting there for eight months. That should be nothing in the Florida climate. All I got back was check the brake light switch and the usual oxygen sensor data which I have never bothered with. But I’m not forgetting that $140 battery died. It was not used, but I did not remove a terminal or put it on a trickle charge until too late.

           Guitar Rick called to report his trip to the jam at Clermont. Totally Blues music, which I don’t care much for. That, and because what they call a jam is often a showcase for guitarists who’ve played the same tunes for forty years. He did not stay long, which tells us he no longer expects to play out too much. That’s a good sign for me, I psychologically feel three gigs a month is my limit. Also, as I talk more with Rick on the phone, other constraints are showing up. For instance, turns out his lady friend who wants him in a band may also want him out from underfoot.
           What few tunes he has texted are not all that challenging for me. Such as Elvis and “Little Sister”. It has no bass line, just a thump on the standup. That’s also a sure sign the other guy never listened to the other instruments. When the original lacks good bass, immediately look for a newer recording. Sure enough Dwight Yoakum released a version and it has a bass line right out of Stevie Ray Vaughan, who pretty much had only one bass line. When that happens, invent a newer and fancier turnaround.

           Nothing unusual about this but it is all the hint I need that once again I should be prepared to take up the slack, totally as usual. This morning, as I wait for the insurance policy on the Hundy to take effect, I will record band and music stuff, which I’m certain historians in 2326 will find enthralling. First, let me begin to clear a spot in the kitchen because that is damn well where we will wind up rehearsing. The décor is best described as “there appears to have been a struggle”, that’s an old one. It fits the kitchen which has not been spruced up since my symptoms appeared late last year.
           I got Rick to commit to getting me a song list and discovered he has a small amp full of effects. From his description, it is a Fender so it will have a line-level output. I’ll find some nice boxes to clear most of the kitchen stuff away and rig up an extra fan. The plywood flooring as proven good enough once just slapped down over the newly reinforced joists and the coffee machine is right there. Rick is 72, so he’s seen enough interiors to not expect sculptures and scrollwork. I may even clear him a spot to sit down.

           Concerns? Yes. By now, I’ve seen a number of his on-line videos and those are a phase of life that is long gone. These videos are ten years back so I have no input on how well he can adapt his rock and roll blues to the lower level of playing Legions and community clubs—the only local market for any combo we could put together. Again, I won’t play in a band that does not gig, that avenue becomes an expense I do not need.

Picture of the day.
Invasive spotted lanternfly.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           JZ called while I was strolling the aisles of Wal*Mart. He knows I’m waiting for a cancellation to drive over and that I would not have seen the ads for a new D-Day movie he wants to see. I recall somebody protesting a movie as too violent, so that would be it. JZ laughs at morons who complain war is violent. Good, it is already summer and air conditioned movies are always an automatic yes from me. Did you know before air conditioning, there were no major cities in the equatorial zone?

           Then I got the zonkers, just so tired and my own fault. I also stopped for the bag of doggie chow, shown here. The blue bag in the cargo bay. The staff loads it up for me, but I tried to nudge one corner of the bag to fit my groceries. I could not move it, that’s how weak when it hits me. I was pushing myself a bit for I want tomorrow off, or you know I mean as off as it ever gets around here.

           That’s the second story today, to the outside world it looked like a kindly old farmer pushing a cart past the potatoes. Maybe it was foolish that I walked extra to buy limes, but that put me into siesta zone—while I was nine miles from home. I barely got in the door with the oomph to put the frozen food away. When I add it up, two phone calls and a bit of walking nearly slayed me. At the end of week 16 and I still can’t hike the condiments corridor. I’m in sad, sad shape.
           The island mentioned here months ago, Nicobar, has finally made the news. India is turning it into an airbase. The story was picked up by DW, some German website. I’ll watch for repeats, I’ve had copycats before. Moments later, a second article, about Alberta separation. It’s probably nothing. Instagram purged its files for bots and Taylor Swift lost five million followers.
           If threats and violence are the yardstick, the Democrats in Tennessee held an insurrection over redistricting. If you don’t follow that process, basically Trump won the State by 31 points (31%) but had no representation. The new law prohibits districts based on race and that ousts the Democrats. Are we to expect violence every time they lose? I say yes. Because nobody will arrest and punish the offenders. Mind you, when it comes to cowards, you really only have to kill one.
           And Florida will soon have laws that prevent illegal immigrants from getting loans, houses, jobs, licenses, or bank accounts. What a pity there has to be such laws. Out they go, nobody wants them here. They should be flocking to the worker’s paradise of Cuba.

ADDENDUM
           According to the books, I learned navigation backwards. You see, every book not only gets far too much into the sextant, the lessons are full of sailing lore that you don’t really need. A large proportion of the learning was stripping away what you did not need—I don’t care if the author owns a boat. Finally, years later, I get back to where the last thing I need to do is haul out the sextant and take some readings. You heard me right, all the tables and charts and long hours of reading did not involve the sextant—and in my opinion are best learned without the instrument.
           Y’know, I would like to take a whole day off and just work the navigation tables. No, it isn’t a thrilling hobby. But like electronics, it is a chance to distance one’s mind from the barbarians. You just know when contemplating a Sidereal Hour Angle, you are as far away as you can personally get from the human garbage of this world. Light years away.

Last Laugh

May 6, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 6, 2025, nice box hardware.
Five years ago today: May 6, 2021, forget planting the seeds.
Nine years ago today: May 6, 2017, millennials love being pests.
Random years ago today: May 6, 2013, root beer ingredients.

           Corporate abandonment? That’s what community leaders want to charge Walgreens for closing stores due to shoplifting. The first round of complimentary free trials on new cars begins expiring this month. Want heated seats and remote start? Pay up, help support a system that can only get worse. Call this a grumpy morning, but didn’t we go through this with cell phones, every ass in town, instead of creating anything, focused on getting himself a bigger slice of the pie. Because actual work and creating things, well that takes brains and effort.

           Get ready for a nothing morning full of ills. Yes, I got the hose and clamp back on. I had to lie in the sandy part of the driveway, and a few of the local feral cats decided overnight that sand was just too inviting. I worked in the pooh aroma and took one hour to get this stupid clamp off. It seems in perfect shape and strong as new. I finally got it with my needle-nose vice grips, which have never worked right.

           I got the backyard mechanic blues. Example, I have this tray full of hose clamps, I chose one at random. Another wasted hour as I could just feed it into place with my fingertip, but it would twist back off soon as I applied any torque. Twenty tries later, with the thing often falling right off the hose and landing on my face, I discover of that whole tray of clamps, I picked the one that jammed on the first turn.
           In the end, I walked to the shed at least five times and tried a dozen different tools until I also noticed I have a 5/16ths socket with something wrong. Because it cost me so much today, I’m throwing it under the microscope to see what gives. And that would be the second instance today that by chance I grabbed defective gear. I’m working against two clocks. One says I need my van, two is my biological clock that could need winding without notice.

           Which leads to an extra break, as I worked an hour past the get-out-of-the-sun-you-idiot time of morning. Just in time to answer the phone. It’s Rick the new guitar guy. He’s pro enough to keep checked in whether the band flies or not. Yep, he’s in the same boat as most of us. His auto battery isn’t holding a charge, his new girlfriend has enough clothes to take inventory, his days of packing road gear are behind him, and he’s learned Florida is not a musician’s promised land. He attends a jam first Wednesday of the month, but thinks it is 30 miles up the road. Nope, more like 60 and two lanes the whole trip. (Later, it is 48 miles each way.
           He’s also cautious not to scare off any new potential, which is likely how he perceives me. But he’s after a big band without considering the cost, effort, or logistics. Fortunately, I know precisely how to work with that.

           Outside, the hood is still up and I could not find my 24mm socket. I have a wrench but it won’t fit. It is for that filler cap and the maximum standard size is 21mm, unless you want to shell out the money for a whole set, it's impossible around here to buy just the 24mm. The nut is also behind a hose attached to a flange. Howie came by to check and he lent me a 24mm, needs it for his tractor work.

Picture of the day.
Restored radiator.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           That’s as far as I got this morning. I looked at the filler cap and decided the flange can just be cut away and the hose zap-strapped to anything nearby. Later, I have the flange out of the way, but the 24mm nut is inside a slight depression. The socket has thick walls for heavy duty work, and that thickness will not allow it to fit over the nut. It is the middle of the hottest part of the day, when that is over, it will be too dark to work. At 93°F today, the summer swelter is here. I’m inside with 6 of seven fans full blast.

           Knowing I’m not the first to have this problem with KIA, I’ll do some on-line searching. Last time I searched on filling the transmissions, I got fifteen jerkfaces who showed how to drain it. Gawd, these people don’t know how bad they are making life for themselves. How, I ask, do these peole reach adulthood without knowing the difference between drain and fill? And these are the bunch who expect to go to Mars?

           Aha, I found the squirrel attack route. The game cam did not reveal the tactic, rather it was a windy day and the rodent did not hear me round the corner. There he was, leaping from the corner of a tool box that seemed too far away. He took a running leap and just made it. The box is moved. This is not victory, the squirrels are like Iran. Their culture is just keep looking for other ways to cause trouble where they are not wanted. It must be easier to destroy other people’s freedom than to fight for your own.
           Cancel Clermont, Rick is also a motorcycle rider and I’m not driving out there. Hmmm, this means get my kitchen cleared out as he won’t be able to haul a lot of gear. It also means he either has a small amp or plays through the PA. He’s mentioned he has a van but it might be his girlfriends. Either way, don’t count on availability.

           So we have here a situation much described in this blog that Rick, without saying so, finds himself in the middle of. It’s how he’s dealing just now with scenarios so old and familiar over here it’s comical. Like the fact if you are over 50, you got compound choices. You can sit home or go out. Sit home and you turn into a vegetable. Go out, and you got another two choices. Be the entertainer, or be the entertained. You got it, be entertained and still turn into a vegetable. As the performer, you got two choices. Pluck or get plucked. And that is why music is fun, yet a bit of a job. Because anything beats turning into a vegetable.
           Don’t suppose I’m thinking he’s just learned all this, I’m only picking up that he does have as much mileage on it as I’d expect. So I grabbed the bass and learned to “reggae” bass line to “Heaven’s Door”. There’s not a lot can be done with it, though during lead breaks, the guitarist is often so self-absorbed you can slide in a Bob Marley drop one. That, the drop one, is a technique of only playing one note in the first measure or half measure, the churning out the triads.

           Reading US military notes, I see they’ve wised up to the expenditure in missiles over cheap-ass drones. And a working solution is trainer aircraft. Good old two-person propeller planes rigged out with some sensors and aimers. Watched a couple with drop tanks so they can loiter in the drone alleys. The Shaheds fly slow enough to be picked off visually or by infrared helmet by night. For detection, could not be simpler. A soldier hears the lawn mower engines and phones back to base. Slew the ground radars in that direction and you get enough echo to vector in the trainers.
           The larger the drone swarm, the more targets. Modern fire control means ten or twenty rounds can ensure a hit. It’s only economical compared to missiles but I see no reason they won’t dispense with the pilot in a year or two. Plus don’t forget that kid who 3D printed that homing rocket for $3,000.

ADDENDUM
           Did I not warn y’all that MicroSoft was using Chrome, Edge, and Copilot to extract and store all your passwords. I saw the news release, and yes, they are admitting to only the storage part. Because that is only the part they’ve been caught. I also got rid of Opera and Brave long ago for the same reason. Worse yet, the Edge can be hacked to enter any site built using MicroSoft virtual code whether you know it or not. Best resign yourself that if it is digital, it can be cracked. You done been told.
           That movement in Alberta could be more than serious. Those people want out. To all the people protesting the data centers for being surveillance centers—who willingly gave them all that data? I can see it happening because Ottawa has smugly presumed they would never unite. In what might be the death-knell of the Democrats, the Supreme Court has denied their motion to reverse redistricting.

Last Laugh

May 5, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 5, 2025, the required signatures.
Five years ago today: May 5, 2021, a generic day.
Nine years ago today: May 5, 2017, my then-new shed.
Random years ago today: May 5, 207, my Yamaha speakers.

           Should have been off to a great day, instead we got another varmint ready for the long ride to the bone orchard. I’m slow-starting, beginning by answering all my e-mails over endless coffee, the benchmark of my abilities these days. A note from Mitch, who reports asthma symptoms—which is why I don’t pursue any athletic hobbies, folks. Then again, crawling under a KIA doesn’t pass for leisure activity either. To betray this blog’s founding as a daily log, here’s a synopsis of this morning’s so-called quiet retirement time.

           This is not a video of breakfast, rather y’day’s feast. My sense of taste has returned enough to enjoy this cholesterol binge. The story is not what you expect. This video contained a warning, see addendum. Howie came over to check on my repair, I had to borrow his jack stands. What the heck did I do with mine? Anyway, back to this morning.

           I was back and forth to the shed every few minutes as I discovered I could not get at the hose to make the repair. Here’s as far as I got today. The hose must have been installed at the factory before the engine was put into the frame. I may get it yet. Howie reports last day he heard a whump noise in the yard and was going to check on me, but informs me the when the neighbors hear me playing bass, they know I’m okay. Makes sense, if I can play Jethro Tull, I’m not on my last legs.
           Working on the ground was never easy for me. Around mid-morning I took the latest rat for the ride. Turns out they finally are paving Himlar, the street to the west. So I took the long way around. One thing I do to make the rats take a fast exit is no water in the morning. This rat was a lively one, check out today’s addendum. When he got out of the cage, he scaled a nine-foot wall because there was a splashing pond sound over there.

           When Howie first started with the city, he was a grease monkey. We talked music and how he played most everything except blues. Like me, he could not name a single Ramone’s tune, it was listening music, not playing music, and we both play instruments. I had to stop half-way getting the jack stands under the axle and call it a morning. Any unusual movement drains my power cells and today it was backing up a block because of the pavement crew at work. An old motorcycle hand, I don’t trust mirrors when I can look, and I half-twisted around. That led to a 2-1/2 hour nap.
           All but the shortest naps have me read something first and today’s topic was “distance made good." This is the process of charting the actual movement of a ship, of which celestial navigation is only one part. There are winds and currents at work, plus the inaccuracies of calculations on the rolling deck at sea. I have a hunch the real improvements in navigation came after the British began building ships that cost so much more than the cargo they could carry. There must have been many a case where the navigator and the ship’s pilot (responsible for recording speed and direction changes) must have been at each other’s throats. I must learn more about distance made good, though it is unlikely I will ever set foot on a ship again.

Picture of the day.
3D printed from meteorite.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Chain stores are shutting down in New York City, Greece is banning mosques, and CNN is warning disaster victims that White people who help them out could be “supremists”. Yale Medical School findings report “long COVID” is a form of vaccine-induced AIDS. McD’s is removing all self-serve soda stations due to “changing customer habits”. As one poster put it, “changing customer habits” stole my bicycle.

           Who remembers these early gears? Yep, I cut those by hand. Most are gone but I kept the two largest ones. They are not efficient but they work very well. I’ve long forgotten the teeth ratios. If nothing else, they are a unique sculpture. Eahc of those teeth was cut on a scroll saw.
           Finally, I found my Sight Reduction table booklet, noting I have the middle volume of the onc that comes in three sets. But it is in the format listed in the text, the method that makes sense to me. Maximum latitude is 40°. If I was to get on a boat I would not sail much further than that from warm seas. In any case, for study, this book is all I need.

           Festus Tuesday. All the real westerns are gone, tonight’s viewing was another nice-guy gunfighter. And Matt’s neck of the woods is full of good-looking widows who are single-handedly raising kids while operating the old ranch. A lot of redheads, as well. The acting was reasonably good.
           Then a half-hour in the shed, it is not light until 8:00PM. I’m not a moment closer to fixing that hose, will I have to drive the Hundy to Miami? That’s taking several chances and my luck recently kind of sucks. I got inside under the fans and finally went through five or six live versions of Clapton’s “Heaven’s Door” until I found a bass version that I liked. It’s a syncopated blues bass progression that needs a guitarist with precise focus. I dislike the simplistic Clapton bass lines but this one I’ve heard before and that means, if I dig deep enough, there is a tab.
           Moments later, I found the tab in Songsterr, having only two stars. Makes logic, those tabs are rated by guitarists and many don't like this style.

ADDENDUM

           This is a clip of food avoidance. Ha, if you thought it just another animal trap scene, that animal has a message’. The rat was very active all night. On thing consistent is while in the cage overnight, they eat every scrap of food they can. Not a crumb of bait remains. Except today. Shown here, the rat is energetic which must contribute to the hunger reflex. To the left side of the cage, note a French fry. It had dropped on the floor, so I threw it into the cage as additional bait.
           Yet you can see the rat will not touch it. Rats won't eat french fries, how about that? It does not even sniff the object as a food item. What message is this for me? I ate half a plate full of them last day. I read that Ritz crackers are banned in dozens of countries. Something like 64% of the ingredients are artificial. Apparently, the bakery uses the flour that nobody else will touch, which accounts for the heavy chemical cheese flavoring.
           I have not eaten the equivalent of a box of Ritz in maybe 30 years, but it’s good to know I missed the toxins.