[Author's note 2016-02-07: this as another Dragon Naturally Speaking transcript.]
There is an old saying that those who enjoy law and sausages should never watch either one being made. Extend that to refilling ink cartridges. It never quite resembles the picture on the package, something you may have thought was confined to airline commercials. In case you wonder, yes I do know what I’m doing.
I’m getting better at blogging, meaning I can now produce consistent results. This has me thinking about doing my “Retarded Product” reviews again. Remind me to mention that the ink refill bottles come with a paper liner inside the cap that gets soggy with ink and leaks all over the place. These reviews would be the things, like that liner, that cause problems in actual usage, regardless of whether the product itself fulfills the purpose. I have no intention of doing any investigation to see if anyone else already does this. Do that too much, and you’ll never leave port.
I'll have to find it later but there is a picture of me totally getting messy while refilling a printer cartridge. Here's a temporary picture of a traffic sign, we'll see how long it stays temporary. Hmmm, I can't find the other photo, so the sign stays.Since I got in super-late, this is the abbreviated post. I got over to Brian’s to run over the material we agreed on last week. He is weak on the delivery and plainly unfamiliar with the material. Despite freedom from learning the guitar parts, he is shy on carrying tunes similar to the originals. I can work with all of this, but I’d reather not have to. Wait, there is some comic relief.
Like a lot of beginner’s, Brian was shy to practice in front of a mirror. I took the time to convince him this is not vanity, but showmanship. (It is not like my parents provided me with a mirror or anything.) Later in the practice, he brought out a violin. This gets interesting.
He could emulate almost everything he does on guitar, except it sounded like pure, smooth, classical. [Yes, I have this on disc and no, you cannot see it.] You don’t know how gigantic a leap forward this is for Brian, but not for me. While we were going over how to fake guitar music (another thing you cannot see) he hauled out the violin (without being prompted). Ah, things are beginning to meld. But it is taking too long.
This produced a hilarious one-time and spontaneous cover of “Memphis, Tennessee”. Brian plays violin, not fiddle. I’m telling you, it was like hearing [I have no analogy here]. There is little I could sell [to music clubs] at the moment, but we actually played this strange music through a couple of times. Brian is hesitant about his stage presence but certainly understands that changes are needed.
Then, Anna calls back. Her daughter got a guitar for Christmas. This is in addition to the printer she needs networked. I will begin coaching some music tomorrow evening. Who am I to say no to music? I sat around thinking this through. My conclusion is that this teenager [Anna’s daughter] is in the same position I was, and I got no help of any kind. So, I’ll give it the best I can – wouldn’t you? Most teens last three months with music lessons, but wise parents grant them that.
"Dude Ranch." Yes, that is the trio that contacted me about playing the gay bar up in Ft. Lauderdale. So far so good, but upon finally demanding their song list, guess what? It was word for word the same list as the G, and I never forget a set list. Only an idiot plays "Simple Man" as an opening number? Even the same spelling mistakes. I’m under no obligation to protect this information; still I’ve decided not to make an issue of it. I sent back a neutral response suggesting he should be more careful [particularly if he is sensitive about playing in gay bars].
In the end, I declined this offer. I've said it before, there are enough problems in life that you don't go out looking for them.
Ruth called about logging on to Quickbooks. She finally put the auditor on the line, but I was not able to help much. It turns out he may have a different set of notes with a password most different that I found. Finding a password is not simple even when you know how, nor should the difficulty of actually doing it to be misinterpreted. It takes time. Many people think there is some central repository of passwords that you can telephone when you forget your own.
The black dude who comes in every other day finally got his own account. This time I carefully set it up, but no further. If you want an anonymous account, I will set it up for you for $60, or show you how to do it yourself for $600. I’m learning, and this new guy is engrossed by the possibility of becoming anonymous on-line.
My Thursday guitar player, Wain, called to cancel out. He is not feeling up to it, he’s definitely down with something. I told him to take it easy and call me back when he’s feeling better. There is no rush with this project anymore, although I wish there was.
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