September 25, 2005

           The trailer is moved, it is just before noon. It is in the huge empty parking log behind Fred’s. He agreed instantly, probably because he has a matching trailer hitch. The trailer is an excellent replacement for a large and expensive pickup truck. It is also low maintenance. The parking lot is large and full of nooks where the trailer could fit, but there is one great spot and one bad spot. You watch, even though the places have been vacant for years, some Florida asshole is going to complain the trailer is in her way. There should be a photo near to prove the trailer is not and cannot be in anyone’s way, it is behind a telephone pole. Chained to it.

           In fact, to prove a point, let us see how long it takes for some Florida peckerhead to squawk. I’ll include very clear photos to show the trailer is in the middle of nowhere in an unused spot. The grass patterns show it is not any kind of foot traffic area and there are no doors or even windows blocked, no reason for anyone to beef. It is as completely out of the way as humanly possible under the circumstances. It does not occupy a potential parking spot. The trailer has to be wiggled into position behind the telephone poles, and there are far more convenient parking spots closer to the building access.

           I’ll bet, in the second matching photo of the immense, unused and empty parking lot (on a busy Saturday business day), you can hardly see the trailer. Hint: look at the bottom of the telephone poles in the center area. The bet here is how long before some Florida asshole gets into a fit. Their problem is not ordinary jealousy of others, that they have aplenty. What they really hate is the thought of somebody else hauling something in a trailer without telling them. There is no cure for that condition, except death I suppose. I highly recommend the cure.
           Mike came over, he is quite typically frustrated by computers. For that, he sure has some nice computers. He was a tad incredulous about the number of IBM Thinkpad laptops that are over here, usually the result of thinking laptops are something special in the computer world. I explained they are actually fancy toys and are rarely an economical repair. I said frustrated, and I mean because adults want a computer to do something for them without the hassle of having to learn how it is done. After all, that is why most adults buy a computer, see? They want the computer to put all the indents and margins in a letter and make it look perfect for them so they don’t have to learn spell checkers or the innards of burning a CD. Without a childhood exposure to computer methods, it is hard to have any feel for what to expect of the contraption.
           Case in point. Mike did not understand why we could not just hook up his laptop to my system and transfer the files. Why we had to first burn a CD, which takes a long time on his equipment and will not display properly on my seemingly infinite network of bigger units. You know, I can’t answer that myself. It seems that networking causes all kinds of other idiosyncrasies Don and I were not anticipating. We were already wary because things went so well for what we are used to. The free memory error (so far and over here) occurs only on computers that we networked.

           [Author's note 2021: forgive the bad formats and style of these early posts. They are adapted from hardcopy. I had also yet to learn how to store photos and text together so I could find the pictures, until then, expect references to things that are not there. Note also the cryptic "calendar" style of writing.