Lots of rain, steady since before dawn. No, I am not going to get a poncho and put my mileage on the bike anyway. Rain gear, including the highly-touted Gortex, gets so clammy and uncomfortable I’d rather get soaked. Just not today. The cooling effect of rain, although not as pronounced in Florida, made this day a candidate for an extra pot of coffee and lolling around the house. I’ll probably get a callout before noon, so I’m relaxing.
For instance, I counted up all the spare change around here, came to $41. Things like that, which I’ve been putting off. Organizing and sorting my pension papers, which I heard most people don’t do until they are 58 or so. That’s really, truly dumb. See the picture of the overcast? It never lasts very long. You can also make out the Canadian license plate (Quebec) of my neighbor to the west. Did I mention 135,000 of them descend on this area every winter? These are not tourists, but part-time residents. They inject so much into the economy nobody questions that they are all staying beyond their legal limits.My French is bad, but I can pick up enough to know that a lot of them complain about having to travel back to Canada to make quick “appearances”. This jives with my experiences in Canada, where most of the system is full of annoying government forms and regulations whose real purpose is to check up that you are really who and where you say, a type of reverse Habeas Corpus.
[Author's note: I’m to explain. Regardless of what the term Habeas Corpus means in fiction, it is a law that says a person who is ‘restrained of liberty’ has a right to have the lawfulness of that restraint determined. Sadly, it is often the very people who restrained him making that determination, thus a true instance of better than nothing. By “reverse”, I mean that in Canada, you often have to show up in person to prove that you should not be restrained, which can take the form of denial of privileges. Such as cutting you off welfare or socialized medicine, a situation that strikes terror into their hearts. A Canadian would no more think of paying their own medical bills that you and I would think of, well, you get the idea.
Anyway, the corruption of Habeas Corpus is mainly a Canadian invention. If you are required to show up in person to show you should not be arrested, and some slick snake-oil Canadian lawyer can argue otherwise, you have just turned yourself in. And it is insane to turn yourself in when in countries like Canada, where you are essentially guilty upon arrest and either way, your reputation is trashed.]
Now, into the shop by late afternoon. Who ordered this
Part of the problem I can tell you. It is simple – I don’t have any idea what an MBA does for a living. File papers? Fill out reports? I’d like to think they make decisions but I’m way smarter than to believe that. Whatever it is, it must be totally standardized so that so many idiots can do it, you see I remember when having a Masters degree meant something.
By mid evening, I rode all the way to Sheridan. The G was not at home meaning he forgot our tournament. I even packed up all the gear he needed to fix that sagging shelf full of all those albums he never listens to but says he does. Then I find out he wants a fancy matching bracket from the modular shelving company, well lah-dee-dah. We talked for nearly an hour, mostly about music. He is still convinced that he is the final authority on what audiences like, much along the lines that I think the same about myself as far as what they will dance to. Take note, however, that while he’s never been a listener, I’ve been a dancer.
The ride was great in the sparse Xmas traffic, basically meaning nobody nearly ran me down. There is a neat dollar store over in the Publix mall that is always good for stocking up things. They had DVDs on sale two for a buck, so I bought the final episode of Gilligan’s Island. Never seen it. Always wanted to put Ginger’s face on Mary-Ann’s body but that is another story.
I got some mail from the west coast. I’d love to take a couple of months and go visit. Maybe in the spring. That wraps up this exciting day, but first let me tell you about the wig shop. Nelly was in, and it is a chuckle to watch the difference how these women treat each other. Don’t even try to be helpful around there, it is no use. It is curious to see the vast difference in how they treat a man. Then again, I could walk out the door any time and leave them hanging, so that could temper things a bit. Nelly, the new gal, has the place semi-organized. I never touched it because that is truly not my job. It had been neglected quite a while so nobody could find things.
I read the signals of an organized mind, so she’ll be fine if she does not go crazy first. It is a part-time job but there are two main categories of that. One is the job that has fixed hours, the other one is all over the place. Guess which this one is. The good side of it is that there is only one computer and another cannot be installed. That means I cannot head over there until Nelly leaves. Oh, and it was wise to stand back because the instant attraction [between Nelly and I] did wear off. It always does but I’m flattered it still can happen.
Now, we are friends at work but she realizes I will not take sides with anyone. That doesn’t prevent me from being sarcastic about things I find wrong, but sometimes wrong is the way that people understand. That’s why I don’t manage offices. I can only do it one way, mine. This is not a two way street. Consider this. I have never yet seen somebody run an office up to my standard, that is, they always do things I know or have learned are the wrong way long ago in the past. On the other hand, almost every time I suggest a change, it is something they have never heard of before. Thus, not a reciprocal arrangement.
We took a ton of photos of the wigs on mannequins, but something was different with the lighting today. Things were washed out, particularly the synthetic colored hairpieces. No amount of tweaking could bring them up to snuff, so that was an hour gone. Not wasted, because the photos are still great for web transmission. Dang, because now it has to go to an expensive model photographer. Sorry, but I believe I did everything the same as before when the pictures were great. It means I am still an amateur photo taker because I have no idea what was wrong.
Speaking of models, there were two bone-rack black ones in the door. Too skinny. Over twenty but obviously playing the teenage game. They do not look like ordinary people walking down the street. Five foot ten and one hundred pounds. Of course, this made for great jokes at their expense later. While photographing hairpieces called “Doll Face’, I told Nelly I still want to see “Coke Hooker” and “Trailer Trash”. That is bad humor because the wigs are totally a family show.
Here’s an item. The factory in Indonesia has reported back four times that they cannot product a dreadlock model. Yet the wig ladies in the back room have produced one that quickly got named the “Marley”. I’ll see if I can get a photo soon, it is for a mid-sized dog, to date the largest I’ve seen. To tell the truth, it certainly looks about as realistic and natural as real dreadlocks. Now, if somebody would just knit us one of those tea-cozy thingees. There is still hope for America when people here can produce something in their off time that others have declared impossible.
Last, I picked up a clipboard on sale. Why mention it? Because, since this is Florida, I knew there was something wrong with it. Florida only puts junk on sale. So, what could be wrong with a clipboard? I looked it over, it worked and the spring was strong. I had it beside me here for an hour trying to figure out why it was on sale. It wasn’t the lack of a pen holder. (All clipboard manufacturers refuse to make one with a workable holder.) Then it hit me just now. No way to hang up the board. Yep, it has no hole to hang it on anything. You have to set the board down when you are done. Ha, but they didn’t win. I have an equipped shop so there will be a hole by tomorrow. Me one, Florida zero.
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