Thanks for waiting this thing through.

BE SURE TO READ UPDATED POSTS BETWEEN JAN 29 AND FEB 21.
NOTHING HAPPENED, BUT THERE ARE PICTURES.

See that red pillow on the far right? I learned to hate that thing.

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

This blog is formatted for a full screen desktop monitor.
VIDEO HAS NO 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.

March 3, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 3, 2025, box, stove, etc.
Five years ago today: March 3, 2021, dating apps?
Nine years ago today: March 3, 2017, almost sunflowers.
Random years ago today: March 3, 2015, Florida road art.

           Ha-ha, spring is approaching and out come the ads for bass players. The season is over and all the wannabes are quitting the bands that go nowhere. Happens every year and the bands replace one wannabe with another, it’s a relay race. It could be another day of physical weakness, a good reminder that every other function degrades unless you have a good ticker first. Not so with the brain and I was up early trying to fix a microcontroller glitch. The brain seems unaffected unless they dope you up. See addendum for how I’m thinking.

           To emulate the light exercises from therapy, I’m going to cut some box plates. These motions are similar and the pieces never exceed the 5 lb limit. Shown here is etching a simple logo to make certain I am still familiar with the system. That anesthetic can really blot things out. For example, I forgot the instructions are for 5W and I have the 10W model.
           Dang, I have one crappy camcorder, it will not focus less than about a yard. Here is my clipboard with the logo etched. Looks a lot nicer, as in official. This was so boring I called ahead to check on Festus timing, it is set for suppertime. Of all the things, stringing out the cables and setting the laser up was enough to tucker me out, necessitating a two-hour nap. I need to get past this hurdle. Later, Festus was canceled over this.

           Not so many hours even later, the neighbor called and we watched a Gunsmoke tale any way. That’s how fast my condition swings. Some lady unknowingly falls for the gunslinger who killed her husband. Sofas have become my friend in the past short while and we may pencil in another movie or two now that we know I can walk to his back porch and back.
           He’s keen on the war and news but you know, none of these wars in the past decades has made a lick of difference to me. No changes to my routines and I do not really know anybody in the army. I study war but have nothing to do with it.

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

           Here’s my clipboard with the laser logo. It was dark by the time I discovered that was the only thing I really got done today. By evening, the healing pains enter a new phase. I can’t tell if it is an increase in pain to the bones in the upper chest, or just an increased return of sensation to the area. For a while I’ve experienced a dull and uncomfortable “mending” they said is normal. Now it feels like a kick or blow delivered across the chest. Ever had a cracked rib? Well, triple that.

           I sought a documentary of the Black Pearl, the Dutch automatic sailing ship. The sails are operated by one person, where a regular sailing ship needs a crew of 16. I did not know the design was ready 40 years before a strong enough material was invented for the sails, namely carbon fiber. These ships have a diesel motor for backup and when underway, the propellers are used to generate electricity. I learned the ship is pre-wired to accept solar-powered sails whenever those get invented.

           In other news, there’s a huff about Crenshaw losing his Texas seat. That’s the RINO who plays up the eyepatch angle and votes against Trump apparently for the sake of it. My interest is how the media is not looking into why the election was so expensive. Who was the recipient of all those millions and time to investigate and limit their power to do such things.

ADDENDUM
           My first and favorite Arduino, an Uno, had developed a problem, it will not sync with the port ever since I connected the laser printer. This is ancient DOS era interfacing, using the COM ports which never quite worked as they were supposed to. Fixing it is not as easy as it sounds as there are some 15 different sources of the problem. I have a wired printer, laser etcher, and now the Arduino that all love COM 3. You’d think if I never used them all at the same time, it would work fine.
           But 1970 engineers are no smarter than today, so I began stepping through each port until I got to one I’ve never used before. Port 8. Good, as I was beginning to worry my Uno had finally cratered. It’s been battered and a few years ago I accidentally used it to drive a stepper [motor] which badly overheated the unit. The biggest fail of the Arduino remains no way to tell what sketch (program), if any, is installed on a unit. I tinkered with a subroutine that would send a serial message, but then you have to go find a computer with the Arduino IDE installed.

           Today’s plan is to rig up a transistor controlled relay and see if I can test it to the limit. The challenge is the transistor is far faster and there has to be a maximum. I want to know it. I also need a handy 12V power supply using dollar store batteries. And I cannot find my container of jumper wires. This might be a productive day after all. But I never got there.
           No, it was not, I nodded off in the comfy chair until 11:00PM. I wonder if it is this life vest that is allowing me only 3 hours sleep at a time. It seems passive but I never had this sleep cycle before. My coffee consumption has skyrocketed.

Last Laugh

March 2, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 2, 2025, merit-based.
Five years ago today: March 2, 2021, the sound was off.
Nine years ago today: March 2, 2017, I hesitate.
Random years ago today: March 2, 2014, “a factory virus”.

           Not a good day. Most symptoms relapsed and a return to weariness. Seven solid hours of good sleep and still drained. It has to be waited out, hospital-style. It’s plain the chest wound is widening and about to leave a larger mark. With windows open, my room hints of caramel and disinfectant. I’ve plenty of coffee and gingery ale, so check in later.
           The bulk of the day I was sitting or lying down, minimal movement. Streaming movies saved the day, one I’d never heard of was amusing. “The Extraordinary Adventures of Adéle Blanc-Sec” for special effects, though not for plot. The movie’s best aspect is it moves at the pace I can muster today.

           I’m unable to read many of my notes from January 30 to February 3, it would seem I had great difficulty holding the pen. I was unable to lean forward and nothing in the room, including te bed tray, was enough for a surface. There was no hallucinating in the sense everything I saw was real, just distorted. The scribbler shows even at worse I was writing full but short sentences. And that I knew something was wrong—and that it would go away. What a horrible episode, if I cannot decipher the writing in a few more days, I intend to destroy it for reminding me how it could blot reality.
           Next I tried to watch “The Last Witchhunter” but its cliché with too many weak spots. The gal in the skinny jeans is okay but developing little bulges. Years back I saw Gibson in “What Women Want” and I’m going to find it again. It’s comic for me, since I was around 19 when I began to notice the patterns of women. No, I can’t read minds, but it turned out learning the patterns was enough. The Gibson plot is not only wrong, that’s the movie that I disliked for casting the plain Jane pudgy gal as the 15 year old lead, which for me destroyed and ideal. I get enough tire-biters in the course of events, I want my actresses to represent an ideal.

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

           To counter my physical listless day, I took a far closer at the lead patterns to “Hotel California”, both tabs and notations. My brain still works, and I’ve figured the pattern, again noting its similarity to one of the first tunes I ever learned, the fast version of “Hey Joe”, must have been maybe 1966. Now I know the notes will work major and minor, and there is actually just one pattern needed to fake the tune. The only challenge is the motif is 16 measures long.
           You can hear it best at the end of the song, as the music fades. The earlier solo breaks have variations but they are not as distinctive and won’t be missed. I simply chopped the 16 measures into 8 smaller sets and made them identical except for the changes. But I know those changes well and soon as I’m able again, I’ll work them into a flashy bit of bass work, I will. You can try this at home, but most of that solo is guitar 4ths which become a real stretch as you move down the bass neck. I would have to be in top form to play this. And I’m not.

           The old club invited me to an art show tonight. Kind of. The club is dead, my guess is they have been losing money a while now. So management is open to any ideas (except my advice to change it back into a neighborhood country music venue) and Wilford came up with this idea. He provides a ton of art supplies and anybody in the audience can dig in. Novel idea, but I seriously do not think there are enough creative people in the territory to make it work. For that matter, Wilford can’t be unaware he’s wasting his time with four or six customer’s all night long.
           The location is great advertising for his photography business, though it’s not the most effective way to advertise. I have not contacted my latest guitar player since I returned, but then, he has not contacted me, either. By how, he and I should have been able to approach the old club with a duo for those dead Saturday nights. Since Cathie left, they have tried almost everything except live music. Worst was the DJ that played the pseudo-rap disco noise that drowned out any chance of conversation.

           We’ve gone over this business cycle before and here it is, staring us right back in the face. The downfall is predictable, the club hires full bands, business is good but the best match is small bands, that is duos or trios. Except, there aren’t any and Bash bands are too expensive. (Bash is the local bulletin board agency, for corporate events.) So the club drops to solo guitar players but soon that becomes a rotation of the same few people. And I have long since spotted how they do not hold a crowd with their choice of music—just ask the Hippie.
           So, the club crops to Karaoke. You know that mistake, there is a certain period where the show is novel and the house makes an extra couple hundred per night. But it is not live and it wears thin, but worse, the club loses the regular clientele who liked live music. With the loss of business, the club drops again to DJ music and that quickly dwindles away. So, here we are, a dead club that can only be revived by live music and that music has to be, in my experience, country. That’s why I switched to country, folks.
           And that is where the club has sat since last year. All the regulars are gone and except for payday at the mines, long empty nights. And that mining crowd is nasty, fights and police outside. Normally, I would have made a deal with the club for tips only because I know the formula for neighborhood country music—but I do not have a band to offer. Neither does anyone else nearby. If I lived forty miles east or west of here, I’d have been in a band for years now.

Last Laugh

March 1, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 1, 2025, a 6-pancake day.
Five years ago today: March 1, 2021, that’s baloney.
Nine years ago today: March 1, 2017, yep, Jim Stafford.
Random years ago today: March 1, 2013, early Arduino.

           An early start with a bit of energy, which I used to make breakfast hash and a key lime pie. Better yet, I stayed awake and watched some documentaries of living off the grid. Folks, it does not good around here to make wild claims of independence—it costs a hell of a lot of money to get a a cabin happening in the woods. This one couple who “started from nothing” carefully avoided saying where they got the cash and tools to survive for years during startup. Or where they got the tools and solar panels. I don’t mean nothin’, I’m just saying.

           So I’ve decided, except for electric, which I will not skimp on, and water which is mandated by the city, am I not off the grid? Let me fathom that, because I was not happy with getting $241 in electricity bills while I was away in the hospital with the main breaker turned off. The average cost for a small cabin system in 2025 was $15,000. But what if I live another 23 years like my last round in 2003? This requires a lot of thought and planning. See addendum.

           Here is something you don’t see every day. This is dead lumber, that is, the wood was dead before it was lumberjacked. The effect is not something I’d pay extra for, but these planks have an abnormal source. It is pine wood that has been killed by a beetle scourge. The tree trunks remain standing for years after and this is the result when sawn and planed. Sorry, you will have to consult elsewhere for details but I understand there are thousands of square miles of these dead forests. A most interesting recycle idea.

           Pennsylvania remains deadlocked in a fight with power companies a year now over a bill that allows residents to refuse the installation of “smart meters”. The companies were charging an opt-out fee by some other name and slow-walking the removal of existing unwanted meters. What does that tell you?

           My single chore today is to get the rest of that $1600 into the joint account. This is where PPP comes into play. Many, possibly most, people would say this trip downtown is just the logistics of reality. I see it as the consequences of being poor. If I had to pay somebody else, or calculate my true full cost, this trip carries a price tag of around $75. And even after the 18th, my reserves will stand at only 34% of optimum. Who knew poverty was so complicated? It explains a lot.
           Wait, there is more. My commercial bank has begun charging me the $11 monthly statement fee for below minimum balance. The joint account ATM has stopped printing the balances. An obvious ploy to encourage an overdraft. These GenX types must love to screw themselves. Another good one is deleting texts on my smart phone. It also deletes the contact and removes it from the contact list until you turn the phone off and back on. But nothing beats my original millie-phone that required ten keypresses to use the speed dial.

Picture of the day.
Dealey Plaza today.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           What is this? Turns out this is a can of evaporated milk with coffee. Agt. M and I stopped at the Russian store and I wanted some sweet evap. My crappy camcorder won’t zoom in, so here is the best shot I have of the product. My curiosity is returning and today I got some minor housework done. This place remains a shambles. As the old saying goes, if I die today the police will describe the scene as “there appears to have been a struggle.”

           It is 30 days since the operation and time for a status report. You can skip this if you don’t care for hospital stuff. I am at about 50% mobility most of the time with some lingering annoyances. The numbness in both my pinkies and ring fingers is concerning. At the rate of improvement, my hands will not be normal for months yet. The loss of sensation on my outer left upper thighs is not diminished at all. My left leg is half again the size of my right from swelling.
           Both feet are now subject to localized gout attacks. At the moment, it is my right heel and painful but tolerable to walk on. The two wounds for the veins in either leg are still unhealed. The left is closed but scabbed over, the right has formed a white-ish covering (not infected but looks bad) that allows clear fluid to leak slowly but continuously.
           During the 72 hours following surgery, I did my best to keep notes. It remains a blur and my writing is barely legible—but it is evident they gave me narcotic pain-killers. That means two instances of treatment I refused in advance. Narcotics and blood transfusion. So much for my pureblood status, as I can never be sure again.
           My guess for the drug was morphine, which has known withdrawal effects. My notes state that many times I could not read my book (the Buck novel) as the pages turned black in my hands. Black, as if burned, but not shriveling, so I could see widely-spaced single typed letters on the paper. Mostly capital Rs and Os. I would pick up the book and see the pages turn black in front of me, often with a slight gold or orange outline showing through from the other side of the paper.

           My forearms are a bad shape, still bruised and damaged. I have collapsed veins and knots under the skin in several spots. I count fourteen dots and spots from needle punctures that are slow to heal. Swellings of blood on the backs of my hands have subsided to leave blotches. And the skin on both arms has become dry and loose, a condition I’ve often seen in other people in their 80s. Yep, cosmetically, I’ve just aged ten years.
           And the scar. It was a thin red line a month ago, but from the ordinary required motions sitting up and daily routines, it gets slightly tugged and stretched and is now a disfiguring mark. And there is always something alarming about a wound that takes so long to heal. Later, the banking is done and I just want a quiet evening. I slated next Tuesday to get back on track with Festus. There is some light on the horizon.

ADDENDUM
           Solar is not the only option. Later this week I will examine the cost of running a backup generator. I have two advantages. One is I understand the battery technology and how to install and maintain lithium. The second is my place is already 90% wired for adaptation and I can do the rest myself. I have two roof surfaces facing south and east that are unshaded. How about I get outside and take some measurements later, so I can estimate the power generation and cost. I would have no problem installing an experimental site in any of the sheds, which all have exposed south roofs with the sun almost directly overhead most days.
           The videos are extra amusing to me because I see something a lot of others don’t, namely infrastructure. You see them getting water from a wall tap connected to a well. I see the tens of thousands of dollars needed for that to happen. If they had the well drilled, that cost plenty, if they dug it themselves, where did they get their water meanwhile? And is a propane water heater really living off the grid? You can fake an easy-living video for the masses, but around me you cannot fake infrastructure.
           Meanwhile think of me as semi-off-grid. Because I am not about to begin growing and preserving food. I have thought about it, say with potatoes. But I live a mile from the nearest grocery. And I’m slowly getting able to walk again that far again if I must.

Last Laugh

February 28, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 28, 2025, shift happen.
Five years ago today: February 28, 2021, best window ever.
Nine years ago today: February 28, 2017, turkey burgers.
Random years ago today: February 28, 2010, the 2010 virus.

           Bear with my random-like posts, I’m still lapsing in and out of sleep. I chose to look at some videos of the WWII campaign in Sicily, a case study in Allied ineptitude. Yes, they won, but hardly by great military means. They had paratroopers, which by now had proven useless against even light enemy forces. And whenever the ground troops ran into any equal numbers, they were stopped solid. For me, interesting reading, indeed. Time and again, where the Allies “won” an engagement, they had actually found the enemy positions abandoned.

           The “tenacious” German resistance turns out to be ten or twelve guns against hundreds of attackers. British news reports continual refer to the Axis withdrawal as a retreat. In reality, the Germans knew they did not have the resources to defend the island before the invasion arrived.
All I have for you today is this picture of out first shopping trip after the hospital stay. It does not show all the dried fruit.

           Wide awake from 1:30AM to 5:30AM. At home I used the time to study PWM, something I will likely never use. It’s the fifty different ways the on-line tutorials explain it that gets me. Most are wrong or leave something out. Today I learned that the pulse with, which emulates voltages, can be made into an actual lower voltage by adding a capacitor. I needed the reminder that the [Arduino] analogwrite() command is really a digital signal.

           Now approaching noon, the day proper begins for me. The Reb calls and we had an extraordinary conversation about money. You’ve never heard me mention PPP because the term pre-dates these blog posts. It is a derogatory meaning “poor people problems” and refers to the hoops the system has in place to jerk you around if you are poor. You know what I’m talking about. The mess of snags and annoyances built-in to society that most people erroneously think is the natural order. They don’t suspect a thing.
           The best way to avoid PPP is to have a sufficient cash float to wait the bastards out. Most people living hand-to-mouth do so because they have never learned to keep a float. If you must know, my float has traditionally been $16,000. If things go wrong, that is enough to keep me going for months. You’ve seen me buy vans and shrug off banks when necessary, and that is what I’m talking about. Well, folks, the float is temporarily used up, and today came a batch of PPP, landing right on my tired lap. I have not had compound PPPs this century, but here we go, the system is always lurking for the opportunity.

Picture of the day.
Easter Island airport.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Now, PPPs work together to trap you. Each cog in the machine seems to know when you are in a pickle. Today, a $1,500 bill came in and I’m behind in deposits because of the month I just lost. It means a dead time between today and March 18, what could go wrong? First, I have two ATMS, both with $500 limits. That’s a PPP unless you have a float. This means a trip to Lakeland today and another tomorrow, which costs more money than commonly realized, another PPP. You get the idea.

           The ATMs dispense $100s and $20s. The Tennessee bank accepts maximum 25 bills, which means five hundreds and twenty twenties, or maximum $900. So it is more trips to the ATMs on Sunday—how can the system screw you around on that? Easy. Thanks to my situation, I did not notice that the Tennessee ATM card expires today, I was lucky it took the $900. If I have to send the balance by USPS, it arrives after the deadline. More PPP. (I know some of you are thinking why not just make a second deposit with more bills? You don't know, do you?)
           My float will not be restored until the 18th, when I have to be in Miami. Let’s hope between now than then I do not even get a flat tire. Folks, none of these things, in the long run, truly happen by accident.

           To record my health, it was a zero-gain day. Just as weary and no improvement in endurance. I made French toast and did a quick shop for ginger ale and basics. Other than the unplanned trip downtown, I stayed put. This makes overall healing an uneven process and I don’t like that. The photo is a set of men’s flannel pajamas, may I never get caught in a hospital again without them. Beware of cotton-flannel mixes, you want real flannel. The downside? They are now over $60. And that’s at Wal*Mart, sonny.

ADDENDUM
           There is a military historian who showed promise, but they got to him. His initial round of documentaries were factual and revealing. His name is Mark Felton and they got to him. His latest productions are laced with anti-German digs and plugs. Always a referral to slave labor and the camps, no matter how off the topic.
           His material is also taking a tack toward the “Britannica” version, which is highly propagandized. By now, most sources admit the bomber offensive failed to cripple German war production because it was based on the false presumption that Germany was on a wartime economy. That would have been true if Germany really planned to conquer the world, but I’ll sidestep that issue.            In reality, Germany had never planned a long war and the losses from bombing were handily made up by underused capacity. The "strategic" bombing was a costly failure and a cover for deliberate bombing of German civilians. And we all know who does that kind of thing.

Last Laugh

February 27, 2026

Yesteryear
Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 27, 2025, another 12 y.o. “genius”.
Five years ago today: February 27, 2021, yet another guitarist.
Nine years ago today: February 27, 2017, “entertainment radio”.
Random years ago today: February 27, 2003,10th “last date” anniversary.

           Good morning, but that’s not to mislead anyone that I’m back to par. I’m back to coffee and grits, homestyle, and that is it for a while. My big plan for the day is to refill the birdfeeders and count some lumber. One super-issue for me was finances since I’ve been away, but I was with my banker for an hour and we are going to try a different system which should work—except I won’t know the exchange rates until weeks afterward. As ever, I’ll adapt to that, for the moment, it is coffee and birdseed.

           The option to sleep all night long is already getting results. Maybe I’ll unload the van and do a load of laundry. That last chore is overdue, I took only enough for a week away. I have not stepped on a scale but I’ve lost 8 – 10 pounds. And this morning brought a return of wobbly balance and poor appetite. We are not out of the weeds yet. When I say I’m fine, I mean sitting down or making coffee.
           Checking the yard, I see there was a severe drought during my absence. Even some cactus has died off and the birdbath area that catches the spill has completely dessicated.

           I’d love to hop in the KIA for a drive in the countryside, but that is forbidden. I’m also strapped to the portable fibrillator. It’s to prevent a heart attack, though I am hoping they conclude short of the six-month estimated time that after this my heart is actually quite well. This generic photo shows the transmitter and it is twice as heavy as it looks.
In my office, the cot and chair are one step apart and this makes for wonderfully beneficial rest. I can throw on any of my favorite documentaries and crash. Today, I took a closer look at the German side of the north

           African battles against the Americans approaching from the west. German humor can be hard to follow, but there is no doubt some were laughing their asses off at the Yanks. Time after time, they would see the mass of American tanks approaching with the commanders on the turrets.
           The Germans would fire a few shells into the air, causing the Americans to duck back in the turrets, reducing their visibility to nothing. Then begin picking off the toy US tanks until the rest turned tail. I have yet to see any Allied footage of this going on.

           I bought this book at the Thrift, thinking it would focus on issues like inflation and wars, but it was mostly about media idiots. While I recognized almost all the topics, I could not place 2/3rds of the people. I know Michael Jackson and Howard Stern because they are freaks, and Gloria Steinem because so many outspoken 6’s have the same bark, but who are Al Franken and John Green? One thing I know is they didn’t make their money by working for it, or I would have some idea who they were.
           My conclusion is most people in this book are loudmouths who caught media attention for getting things backwards, screwing up facts, or being a majority at some ivory tower schools. I think this book is like the Jeopardy game show. Unless you spend inordinate amounts of time watching TV and paying attention to other people’s lives, you will not go anywhere with this. Strangely, even if you do know all these people, you will still not go anywhere.

Picture of the day.
Most popular US non-coffees.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Here is a view of a model wearing the chest strap, which I call the sports bra. It presses some sensors and two metal cases against the back and front. Rumor is the unit can kick-start your ticker. The apparatus is real time, it sends alarms and alerts for any interruptions. It is well-designed and comfortable. Surprisingly easy to sleep while attached but too heavy to leave long on the belt clip as depicted here.

           When I look back on the week since I got out, the most restful time was going to the movies alone. That is the first in at least ten years without the Reb andI psychological realize I thought she was there. You know, there is that big movie plaza just a short drive from here. I’m thinking.
           Later, what crap they are showing. Plotless music documentaries and if “Wuthering Heights” is as bad as the book, count me out.

           By late afternoon, all attention is on unfinished business. There is nobody here to look after anything in my absence. As mentioned the utilities and wifi were cut off, but easily restored. After the meeting with my banker, I should be back to a surplus by March 18. A tiny surplus, but that is all I need. Some of these margins, I know, are getting pretty thin.

           Checking my bass playing to map what I can play using only three left-hand fingers, you know, should it come to that. I found something. “Hotel California” is a studio overdub of many guitar parts, but during the second half there is a triplet riff that cannot be played by a solo guitarist without losing the rhythm chop. I gave it a try, and while it is a guitar part, there is a great way to spoof it on bass. It also parallels the motif of the lead break. I spent an hour on this just to see. Hmmm, this might be another piece where the guitarist who chooses this tune for his ego may find he has a lot more backup band than he bargained for. I would relish playing this triplet on the bass with the Hippie, just to see his reaction.
           Later, I went to the club to see what I’d missed. Wilford, whom I cannot figure why he still works there, is trying an “arts” night. Might as well, the old club is dead and gone. That is unless somebody gets the lerts to turn Saturday into country music night. I stepped out into a gulf breeze, meaning it is finally going to rain.

Last Laugh

February 26, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 26, 2025, dead at 29.
Five years ago today: February 26, 2021, kickbacks are standard.
Nine years ago today: February 26, 2017, quiche in the oven.
Random years ago today: February 26, 2009, Dade’s last character store closes.

           Home, and what a treat. They had cut off my electric and wifi, but my finances were in order. So I was downtown moving around mighty slow. Today’s highlights are pale, I bought a pizza because of my salt craving and settled in to catch up on mostly a ton of email. Once again, I was taken by the silence all day long. One of the true pleasures of leaving Miami. This is offset by the new daily chores of pills and bandages. But the option to crawl under the electric blanket and forget the world, that is class.

           I woke with a thirst for dairy products and protein shakes, that’s it for excitement today. I picked up a week’s supply of microwave stuff, which says I intend to get as little done as I can. Also, those minor gout attacks are now become bothersome. I’ll keep a record.

           xKnowing I’d stay put, I paid for extra bytes this month to watch movies on my office computer, the most comfortable one to sit at. I’m ready for two weeks of nothing. That is partly why I decided to show you this “hospital picture” revealing the damage to my left arm from the constant needles. Even lacking clear close-ups, you can see the spots and wounds besides the bruising. The dark splotch is discoloration of the various tapes and stickers.
           Toward the end, I balked at routine tests. If I feel anything or show symptoms, fine, but I had to put a stop to the “just checking” bunch. Trust me, this is really cutting down on the photos and matters I could be reporting over this last four weeks.

Picture of the day.
Lobster rope art.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Overall, I’m where I expected except for the fatigue. The last remaining complication is the slow-healing leg wound. I have not walked into the back yard to check on anything yet. From here, everything looks in place. The numbness in my fingertips is slowly fading, but make that very slowly. And the weather was perfect. Such was my day.

Last Laugh

February 25, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 25, 2025, another generic day.
Five years ago today: February 25, 2021, need another shed.
Nine years ago today: February 25, 2017, Ford and Honda parts.
Random years ago today: February 25, 2007, country music, in French.

           Today’s big event? I was waxed at Battleship, the board game. Not the chintzy on-line version, the real plastic game. And, in the background, the kid to got me. It took nearly an hour, but defensive placement helps. You can see how well he has learned the search patterns. Oddly, at this late juncture, there are still no diagrams on the game piece to tell you which weapon the plastic icons represent unless you know the difference between battleships. Most players do not.

           Kudos to those who waited this out, it’s been nearly a month and I just pulled in the driveway. Some realistic thinking shows I cannot go six days without driving, much less the six months the med people are about. Seriously, the US is a society that revolves around the motor car and nobody but the ultra-rich or desperate poor can do without.
           As before, you get the highlights but there is no getting around the dominant event of this surgery. I was up early enough to make a big batch of Thai fried chicken for breakfast. Several of my creative meals have been firsts over here. My decision to not stay was spurred by an old issue. Antibiotic rinse. I’m not allergic but the application makes me smell of caramel, old popcorn and perspiration. And it gets into my clothes. So welcome back to the cabin where I worked long and to be let alone. Where it bothers nobody but myself.
Picture of the day.
Engineered wooden bridge.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Having time to think this through, when my next appointment was the middle of March, it was plain I wasn’t sticking around. For the record, the cursory examination today and the timing f the follow-up weeks down the line means there is nothing serious, nothing unexpected. I should still write down what is not up to measure and what I learned. Most important, the tingling numbness in my bass hand will diminish. It is already shrunk to just my ring and pinky fingertips, alas, at this rate it will be months to cure.

           Yes, I do have a mild infection and it is from the stay at extended care, the only place the bandages were ever removed at the time this occurred. Painless, but the scar is already bigger because of it. There is also a large patch on my left hip and upper thigh that is numb to the touch, I am told it is due to nerves pinched during harvesting my leg veins and it will fade.
           An unwelcome side-effect is the return of gout-like pain in small spots, say a toe or big knuckle. Nothing on the scale of an attack, but enough to make things go slow, like right now it is in my right heel, causing a small limp. Hate it.

           Here’s a nice one—the two boxes for Agt. M shown in this bookcase. It is some IKEA format, yet the two golden ratio boxes fit snugly into place. Can you spot how he has them in the lower left cubicle? How about that?

ADDENDUM
           The trip home was uneventful, a stop at Punto Rojo and the last hour in darkness. I’ve got a new audiobook, “Bullet”. The plot so far is this lady finds out she is adopted and is traumatized by the news, poor baby. The mystery is that her birth parents were murdered and she is on a quest. A good plot with two annoyances so far. One, her childlike reaction to the news and the old emerging theme that 37-year-old women still got it, yeah-yeah.

Last Laugh

February 24, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 24, 2025, a generic day.
Five years ago today: February 24, 2021, beginning PWM lessons.
Nine years ago today: February 24, 2017, my favorite window . . .
Random years ago today: February 24, 2008, corrupted by usage.

           News from Trent and others cheers me along, this fourth day of home therapy. Here’s the goings-on, again allowing you to decide how things are progressing. I know to suppress the hospital talk so how about a trip to the mall? Up early, I made scrambled eggs for the crew, which I point out is unfamiliar chow for the gang. For the 15 years the robot club has existed to date, there was always a budget to hold the meetings at bookstores, or any handy pubic spot.

           Actually crashing with the family is unique. Breaking the rules, I drove a bit y’day without incident. This is an absolute necessity as riding with any other local driver I know is either impractical or simply too risky. I got myself down to Snapper Creek for the day. Here is a picture of three unread letters dating from July of 2025. Shown are two regular letters, the kind some people nowadays have never received, and one of the picture format developed here for non-computer communication. For clarity, these are letters received as far back as August 2025 that were never opened until today.

           Isn’t this a fine scenario, three Miami dudes in tough shape checking on each other? Yet, this is a fortunate outcome considering how American society has gone empty. Most people only have family any more and that’s not what it used to be. I arrived to find JZ haggard after a night of wheezing. Tell me about it. Fast forward unless you want six hours of going over medical conditions. All this did was clarify some questions my own med people were hesitant to answer, like whether my multitude of small aches and such are normal or not.
           To be exact, questions about the broken sternum and healing process. Yes, it moves, and I can feel in when I toss at night. JZ had to visit a lung specialist, so he was gone three hours. I lied down on the old sofa and was rapidly into the deepest sleep since this incident began—except at home which is 190 miles away. I’ve been crashing on this sofa at times for more than twenty years.

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

           Neither of us felt like cooking later, so we got this big idea. Why not combine a little exercise and walk over to the Dadeland Mall food court? That was at 4:00PM in the afternoon. It’s usually a great stroll over the bridge and taking the indoor route through JC Penny. Where I’ve never really shopped. Same with Macy’s, I just don’t normally spend $62 on a casual shirt. The Mall always gets me, there are so few shoppers and half of them are mall rats.
           That’s another thing, in my day it was a treat to go gal-watching at the malls. Not no more. The day of the slim, leggy, together babe is gone, replaced by squat 4-foot-10 waddlers. Forgive me for noticing. My treat, we stopped for pizza slices and that came to twenty bucks. I also grabbed a sandwich to take back for Agt. M and I which set me back another fifteen.

           It was the long walk back that got me. I needed a pause every fifty paces. This led to some window shopping, including $16,000 wrist watches and $4,800 pendants. And JZ, well, you know how he fares with free samples. I think the millennial know-nothing job movement began as commission sales-jerks at mall kiosks. Before long he was sporting eight different after-shaves and a free $105 bags under the eyes treatment. I was more concerned that I’d have to drive in the dark if we didn’t hurry up.
           I got back to Hollywood late. Today’s conversations have convinced me that being home will be considerably more therapeutic than the equivalent time anywhere else. I’m still weak as in easily-fatigued but day like this are exponentially more beneficial. We talked until 10:00PM and watched documentaries on drones after the kids were asleep.

Last Laugh

February 23, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 23, 2025, they are not tame!
Five years ago today: February 23, 2021, My-yami?
Nine years ago today: February 23, 2017, no “expired ID” reading.
Random years ago today: February 23, 2005, some 80 pages.

           First off, I got the KIA over here. Stopping for prescriptions, grub, groceries and general chasing around. This disobeys doctor’s orders which state no driving for six months and keep my leg elevated. Show me how this can be accomplished and I’ll give you lots of money. News from the West is about to get very sparse. I managed this single photo of Sheeba, the 100-pound doggie with the big ears. With the van here, I am 90% independent though I don’t think there will be much change in overall mobility. I don’t feel up to anything.

           Most of the day was drifting in and out of sleep while trying to sit up on the sofa. Agt. M, noting I could flop right over sound asleep, rigged up a pillow so I could lean over into place and says that my average nap is close to two hours. Just like Sheeba if you ask me. That is how I want to zonk, carefree and in any configuration of the moment.

           LizJohn and I had business to cover, most of it overdue from November, my birth month. I’ve said it before, the system is tightening up, mostly made possible by complete libtard government intervention into every aspect of personal life. I’m perceiving a difference in exchange rates depending on who is the sender, and that amounts to another tax. Half my pension is converted American dollars so I’d best make plans for some bad news.

Picture of the day.
Jefferson High “sample” photo.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           I got my chronology messed up and reported the movie tomorrow, but it was today I just parked the van and walked into Regal Cinema. Talk about overpriced. They had a GenX special, which is no special at all. If you buy a senior ticket, a soda, and a popcorn, it comes to $33. The special is called VIP, which for the price of the $30 ticket, you get a “free” soda and popcorn. Jump on it, Tyler and Josh, such a deal. I almost fainted waiting 11 minutes for the lady ahead of me to buy her latte. Amazing, I say, how over time Miami gets ever more like my family. Get in front of the line and take your time. I missed all the shorts, which are important to me.
           JZ, like me, does not much answer the phone after 8:00AM, so is he at home? Did I mention the health places do not have mirrors? Anyway, now that I have them, I confirm that my eyebrows are gone. They are barely missed as they were always blonde until they turned grey in 2005-ish. The nurse practitioner says it is normal, but is it not also normal to kind of let patients know to expect things like this?

Last Laugh

February 22, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 27, 2025, another 12 y.o. “genius”.
Five years ago today: February 27, 2021, yet another guitarist.
Nine years ago today: February 27, 2017, “entertainment radio”.
Random years ago today: February 22, 2004, Horst Burkhardt Minkofski.

           Am I adapting back to myself? You bet, I’m gaining fast just being able to more around without having to plan each move. Of course, the kids get tons of attention and have figured out I know how to play all their board games. Don’t tell them that is because to little had changed. Here is the eldest, finger-plucking “Ode to Joy”. I have the video of us playing the duet, quite the collector’s item.

           Agt. M is a terrible driver and he knows it. This morning meant his giving me a lift to get supplies. Groceries, especially ginger ale, and lots of bandages. Daily changes are needed and just me luck no store we found had all I needed. Now, when I way a bad driver, that needs examples. Worst is taking his hands off the steering wheel, which he has done as long as I remember.
           Next is a more recent scare, that is, relying on sensors. I will never do that, but he believes back-up, turn, and brake sensors. No matter how many times they let him down or how many close shaves, he still trusts them. I use my back-up camera, but only to guide me out after I have made a shoulder check.

           Just plain bad driving habits are a further danger. You know those small left turn lanes along the divided roads in Hollywood? Yes, you can use them to make illegal u-turns and he does. A lot. This morning he miscalculated his turning radius and the passenger tire climbed the far curb and smacked down hard on the axle. It was very lucky not to do the one thing my doctors are most worried about—deploying the air bags. It was this close. I immediately had him drive me to Plantation and get my KIA.
           It was plenty early in the day before people got up, so we drove to Hollywood Beach. Have not been there in more that then years. It is now crammed with high-rises. South Florida is famous for apartments with the Hong Kong parking formula. Three-quarters of a spot for each car. Failing a shipwreck of 50 Komatsu dozers, this situation will not change in our lifetimes. Few things spell tacky better than locals holding hand-make parking signs for their front yards. I treated Agt. M to breakfast at Grandpa’s. Remember that used to be the budget sport. Not no more. Two breakfast “specials” cost me $35.

Picture of the day.
Quad copter blueprints.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Here’s younger brother at the Thrift. We had to stop to get me some newer house clothes as I lost weight. My guess in six or so pounds—but all off the waist so I ran out of belt notches. As luck has it, these stores are full of comfy old furniture for me to check out. So the brats curled up beside me and we fell asleep. They let us snooze, when I came to some lady thought they were my kids and invited me home for “chicken soup”. This photo has a name, "Thrift Gladiator."

           This was all around my old neighborhood, so I enjoyed the chasing around to see what had changed. It is now the bedroom community for north Miami and gotten worse by degree. Same faceless condos everywhere, no community sense, and the only people on the sidewalks are dangerous-looking third-world types.

           After doing some chasing around, I took off the late afternoon and went to a movie. Remember that weird “pinball” spot off Griffith that was really a kid’s gambling indoctrination racket? It is now a new shopping plaza and sports a Regal Cinema. The kind where you have to either use a phone, or park and go in to find out what is playing. I found a good one, good in the sense of written for movie murder mystery, “How to Make a Killing”. Some illegitimate has to knock out seven relatives to inherit the family billions.
           Actually, he succeeds, but his jealous childhood girlfriend is even more ruthless. She gets him convicted for murder of her wimp husband. That’s all you get, for I can recommend this picture show if you ever get as bored as I’ve been lately. Corny and written for the movies, but still worth a watch.

Last Laugh

February 21, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 21, 2025, coconut pyography?
Five years ago today: February 21, 2021, the purpose of liberals.
Nine years ago today: February 21, 2017, Windows 2017?
Random years ago today: February 21, 2003, plainly a calendar post.

           I’m out. Agt. M was at the door 11:00AM prompt and I left with unfinished paperwork. Hey, I warned them not to do that. Am I ready? Yes, to live somewhere with assistance but no, not quite to be on my own. I was not hungry and my appetite is shot (and remains that way into the next week) but we stopped at Culver’s. I’d never heard of the place, it’s yet another fast-food joint. Here is M bringing back my complimentary ice cream serving. Nice, but everything still has that cardboard taste—and no aroma. Coffee I can smell, but none of these un-American places sell coffee.

           He’s keen on news events and I see I didn’t miss much. The same old crap and another useless war pending in the middle east with the US backing hugely unpopular Israeli moves. Yes, I’ve lost weight, it’s too bad they didn’t do a little lipo while I was under. The family put in a recliner chair for me and I sank into it. The medical routines have me accustomed to shallow sleep cycles of around two hours, a serious lapse in their thinking patterns.

           The kids are ecstatic to see me, which is understandable because I can play kid games and read kid books. Which is how I spent the afternoon. I learned that Mouse Trap is still a thing. Just with a lot more plastic parts. I managed from the car to the recliner, where we gladly sat quietly, talking robots, cars, and the situation. His own injuries have been acting up again. That puts us like the early days of the club, where we have to do every project with an added safety plan.

Picture of the day.
Australian-size John Deere.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           And I’m no longer the champ. If I knew the strategy ever, it’s gone. So here is the kiddo that beat me two out of three. Which sounds better than two out of two. Although the coffee is much better, it is not the same as home. While in the institution, the TV played an ad for this coffee machine I wanted to check out. Now I cannot find my notes, but it is called Nespresso.

           You’d think that would be easy to find. Worse, there are dozens of designs in the $200 range that do not look like what I saw. Yep, these zoomers have not yet begun to feel the backlash of the chaos they have created for themselves. To think, the computer was supposed to solve the issue of fifty different standards.

           Not only did the anesthetic cause my eyebrows to disappear, they are growing back in an irregular pattern. Now I look surprised at everything. Note, that although Agt. M’s place is completely wired for Internet, it is for entertainment only. There is no provision to research anything. No mouse, no keyboard, no way to use any search engines except local like youTube and music.

Last Laugh

February 10, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: xxxx 2025, WIP
Five years ago today: xxxx 2021, WIP
Nine years ago today: xxxx 2017, WIP
Random years ago today: xxxx, xxxx, WIP

           It is day 13 in the ICU and that is enough. No distractions, not even magazines. Just that rotten TV. It does little but remind you of your own fatigue and exhaustion, with the same commercials every eight minutes. I have a daily walk around the hallway, some 500 feet. It is more than a task, I can barely make it holding fast to the therapy lady’s cart and resting every 30 paces. The good news is this is much better than last week. I comment the patience of Merissa, the lady who makes me use the deep-breathing Voldyne 4000.

           This measures lung capacity, $6 at Wal*Mart, $36 on eBay. I can manage 1000 ml, about half normal adult volume. To be used many times daily, I honestly did forget it behind a week later at extended care. Honest.
           A lady came by to fit me better with the LifeVest. Good, first time was a mighty foggy event. I seem to have got it mostly right. The reason is still a mystery, since I had no intention of lugging the five-pound transmitter around for months. But they implied it is a condition of my insurance coverage and I won’t tinker with that.

           Larger meals now arrive and I’ve learned to order, especially the vanilla ice cream. It is a delicious slurry by the time I get it, but just right. My digestive tract is still a concern, I have been “dry” for some days in a row. The suspicion is ulcers and the test is tomorrow. So just you enjoy that ice cream while you can.

           And you may not believe this but a full 12-pack of Canada Dry diet ginger ale appeared overnight on my side table. Somebody out there is an angel. Whoever you are, I will never forget this act of mercy. Seriously, because the effect of the bubbles is truly loosening up my tummy better than any of the pills.

           Again able to hold a pen up to 15 minutes, I was able to write two letters. A few folks out there are wondering if I made it. That includes JZ and family, but they can still wait longer as there is no provision for mailing letters from here. It seems writing in general is also another thing that no person on staff at this hospital has ever seen before, certainly not full pages of writing before. They are like deer in the headlights over it.

Picture of the day.
Royal Mile, Edinburgh (Scotland).
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Deciding to make the best of the TV, I’ve noted the two channels that show movies. It is ancient and/or boring, and frequently interrupted by the staff. I’ve begun to reject medications such as laxatives, sleeping pills, and any diet supplements. I did not have any such conditions when I arrived here. So what about TV? As in 1972, I find some commercials have information. I watched one with the Nespresso coffee machine.

           There are ads for self-publishing, another thing I keep telling myself to look into. My total blog readership is well over a half-million, though my lapse in daily publishing just cost me 76% of my daily regulars. And I see there are some on-line stock trading apps that finally follow traditional logic. There was no getting straight answers out of the GenX traders who seem fascinated by their ability to believe their own gobble-dee-goop.

           One commercial that drove me ga-ga was Dairy Queen plugging their spicy chicken burger for $6.99. It became all the things the hospital chow was not. Same with the Chick-fil-a float. Neither chain has an outlet near where I live. Nearest is out on Havendale.

Last Laugh