I got awakened by some stranger standing in the street outside my door talking extremely loud on his cell phone. When four of five of the other neighbors appeared, he gradually got the idea and moved on. So good morning, and I’m finally going to get a new pair of glasses. You see, I lost the lens from my current pair, which are well over twenty years old.
Here’s a shot of the new Jamis mountain bike. It is tiny, but really a scaled-down version of a full size machine. It has air shocks and is a superior ride. I’ve decided not to sell it, partly because it is easy to throw in the station wagon. It is easy to hit 15 mph in the 21st gear, at least compared to the larger model. Mind you, the pedals have a narrower radius, so you are pumping like mad to get up there. It has no places to bolt on any extras or accessories, even the handlebars are mostly hand-grips and gear mechanisms.
A strange lady started talking to me in Dunkin Donuts y’day. That’s while I was waiting for Wain to show. Too bad she was not a little better looking, but also, she had that stilted manner of someone who has received counseling. I can’t exactly define it, but you know how certain catch-phrases slink into the vocabulary of fake victims? That’s her. Nothing big, but enough to know she’s been to the cookie shop a few times. Twice she said, “It is good for people to become well-adjusted.” (Become?)Here we go. By fake victims, I mean those who “remember” things with the assistance of the authorities, particularly the current exceeding popular confessions of “repressed memories”, which reasonable people call a load of bull donkey. These so-called memories follow the exact pattern most required and desired by those who want to indict somebody. Read the case of Little Joe Hill, who was convicted by a child’s recollection of a murder. When he tried to cross-examine the child, the lawyers, police and judge stopped him because it made the child cry, whence he uttered the famous line, “His tears against my life!”
Nor am I saying that courtrooms have the worst record of disrespect for people they simply don’t like. This morning at Panera, there was a “sworly-haired” white man, around 40 who blocked the entire condiment area for close to twelve minutes putting sugar and lids on his coffee. Don’t get me wrong, he had “just as much right as you or I” to be there with his elbows splayed outwards, rocking back and forth to prevent anyone from using “his” counter. You don’t need paleoanthropological evidence that a species of monkey could once inter-breed with humans.
Wallace is considering a cruise through the canal to get here. He is, I fear, falling for that just-not-true college boys dream that there is not much to do on a cruise [and therefore women on board will get horny and demand sex]. Then, he’s always been lucky. I just think he should wait to see how the withholding tax is divided. I can just see Canada in twenty years outlawing money. All paychecks will go to the government, who will take out what they have on record for your student loan, traffic tickets, unpaid library fees and mail you the balance, if any. “The choice is yours” they will say.Here is the newest addition to the family, Wiggles. I’ve heard of smaller but this is the smallest dog I’ve ever seen, shown wearing a “Yappy Hour with Buddy Braids”. The pampered life of a model, a dog cage is not good enough. Wiggles has her own baby cage, replete with blankets, toys, and some fancy “Science” dog food. Ah, I’ll get her a tin of real tuna for Xmas.
I repaired the front chandelier today, the one on the east side of the window display. It was like forensic investigation, going through the layers of decoration and dust added over the years. I had to dismantle the entire display, then move the parts away in reverse order. I had gone to the hardware earlier only to discover there are six or more sockets that fit that era of chandelier. Since they cost up to ten bucks each, I decided to take a chance on repairing it myself and getting electrocuted in the process.
The problem was predictable. The original installer took a shortcut. The chandelier hangs on a chain but if you are not careful, part of the weight is placed on the electrical cable. It finally worked itself loose. The components, both the electric and the fixture, were of very high quality for the era, including a flange that holds the porcelain cup in place.
The chick guitarist got an email, mainly to see if she responds in a reasonable time. I also confirmed the deliveries tomorrow with Mrs. Joe. It is always a fun day, based on the once I’ve done it before. The Filipino lady from up the road was around to visit with the neighbor and me. She walks that line between old-fashioned and conservative. Adam has already told me she has asked about me “in that way”, and I know she is constantly probing for an opening when we talk. However, I am too savvy to hit on her and she does not appear capable of taking any initiative.
;Well, I’m due downtown at 7:30 AM tomorrow. For some reason, I’m reading “Hell in a Very Small Place” for the fourth time.
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