[Author's note 2016-05-12: here is another "calendar list" entry, and a picture of a rate type of rainbow in Idaho. It forms when ice crystals in the cloud line up. I think it because the water droplets are slightly polar and as the air cools coming over the Rockies, freezes while it is aligned with the Earth's magnetic field. But I'm no expert, for all I know the native tribes call it the fire rainbow and have a legend its a sign from the sky god. Or something.]
I had to run a load of laundry first thing this morning and that should have tipped me of this would be a day of minor problems. Dani, the Jewish guy who looked at my AC unit was at the door. His computer crapped out and it sounds like that new compatibility problem with XP. He made an appointment for Sunday morning, it sounds simple but nobody wants to rush.
From there, I went into the shop to find that my 10:00 was late. That is Jackie, the lady with the health spa gear for sale. I quickly discovered that eBay has closed down several features on my account because of inactivity and because they say they can’t verify much of the information that was given on startup. I had to check my PayPal amounts so I think I pissed them off by going in there anyway – I quickly figured out the “alternate email address” they ask for was a weak link in their security. Anyway, eBay is acting like they have a right to my information even though I am not asking them for anything that requires such data. They want the truth and the truth is my mother’s maiden name is none of their business. It's a name and nothing else, so the one I gave them is fine.
Listen, you don’t have to read this and I’m warning you the whole day went about the same. I skipped lunch waiting for Jackie, who showed at noon and said she’d be back at 2:00 PM. She n ever made it. I used the time to update all of my advertising and swap out a few hard drives to try to recover my data. Fred also looked on the net but he cannot find any solution.
That lady with the nice legs was in, I gave her a free mini-lesson on using her email. Now she is my type, except that if she is interested at all she does not show it. Fantastic figure and great legs, she reminds me of Mrs. Hammond, a lawyer’s wife I knew when I was growing up. Cancel that, I am still growing up. I used to baby-sit for them because they had such a fantastic library in their house. To this day I still recognize shells on the beach from reading their books.
When I say not interested, I mean she is a cool customer. I’ve accidentally said things that she could have picked up on, like “I’d have to take your disk home to process it.” She likes me and respects my knowledge but she won’t even joke about such things. Pity. Ah, remember Martha? The lady with the six-year-old. They came in today for the introduction and he is exactly where I was at the same age. Except of course that his parents are plainly not trying to stifle his abilities.
I think his name was Danny. He has just as serious a look about him but he has a confidence I never dreamed of – the knowledge that his parents are solidly behind him. Martha asked his opinions and actually listened. I am not used to such things. I always had to operate on the premise that my parents would come in on the side against me. He is clearly already a sharp kid and he just met me, the one person who probably knows better than anyone else what a sharp kid needs to know that others can’t teach him. I just need one good student to create an artificial demand for my tutoring.
On the way home I dropped in to see Dickens, who wants me to mind the store for him for ten days in July. I don’t know if I can help him, I have to keep the momentum up with my own people. I showed him Enrique’s loveseat, but his seasoned eye showed me all the little things wrong with it I had overlooked. Small worn areas on the cushions and such. It wound not be worth selling through the store.
While I was there and talking about my trailer, that hefty lady from the end apartment came in. She heard me and pointed out that no lady would ever go out with me because I lived in a trailer. Interesting thing to hear from a broad who has done time for check-forging, is thirty pounds overweight, lives on welfare and hasn’t had a steady boyfriend in six years.
Next, the car is acting up. It is a knocking noise that comes and goes but gets worse when I pull up to a light and idle. I’ve heard this before and just cannot recall what causes it. I seem to remember it costs $200 to fix it. I did some work at the house for two hours. I know what I forgot to record. The video tapes. Everything turned out perfect and the tile and slate man was quite pleased. This is an excellent little side business that takes good advantage of the storefront. Fred doesn’t mind taking them in at all, it is kind of easy and no doubt leads to other business. It brings the right kind of people in the door.
Then, Diane5 calls back. We have a problem. Okay, first of all, I did use her scanner – because it took up the place on my desk where I wanted to put my newer, better unit. Of course, I cranked a couple cable into it an used it – the scanner, not the printer. She was supposed to take in back in February and I told her I can’t store things for people. When she called, I told her it was a surprise to learn she wanted it back.
Somewhere along the line, one of the cartridges began to leak. I instantly took it out and threw it away. They are no good when they leak and you waste ink trying to refill them. However, I never used the printer part, just the scanner. Well, I told her I was considering buying that one from her and seeing if I could get something else. Turns out I did, a nice heavy duty HP. So I took her Lexmark back y’day and hooked everything up. Of course, it did not print. There is no ink and one cartridge is missing.
She phones and wants that empty cartridge. I told her she can come an get it, because I could not drive out to her place to give her an empty cartridge to prove that her printer does not work. You can’t test the printer without both cartridges She is trying to get a free cartridge out of me, or get me to take this scanner back and give her a newer one. I told her if she did that, I would have to charge her for storage for seven months.
Who needs this? I grabbed the bass and drove to the beach, the car stalled as I pulled into a parking space. We played a bunch of 1950s hits since that was the nature of the room tonight. Some tasty blues and older near-country starting off with "Stand By Me" that had them dancing in the aisles. Like any musicians, and I’m not kidding, the Hippie does not know how to play Happy Birthday the right way, but we faked it and pulled in enough business to pay our ticket. We did a great rendition of "Sweet Home Alabama" and stopped the crowd with "Come Together". That one is odd because without a drummer, we have to play slightly off beat to make it sound right and the Hippie does not realize I am doing that.
The car started and I am back home. It is 11:00 at night. I’m drinking coffee. A lot of people passing by will dance on the pavement and obviously enjoy our music. This is not usual on the Broadwalk, I know for I lived right near there for a year. When I rag on the Hippie for only playing old and obscure music, others are even worse. Pedestrians don’t tip or buy pizza, however, and it is imperative that something be done about the income if I’m going to play at all. I am neither making money or meeting women at the places we play.
HWB has eight tables inside and four outside. These have never been full, even at the height of the busy season. There are also ten bar stools that maybe three get used. There is no regular crowd. All this could be due to the partially unique situation on that stretch of beach. The locals just don’t like to pay $28 for a pizza and a can of soda. I know that I wouldn’t. The Broadwalk is good for a stroll, exercise or romantic, but not a place you go to shop. Everybody is hurting and it is a direct consequence of outrageous prices, all of which start with high rents that are not justified by the condition or location. The sole justification for prices seems to be some kind of space shuttle logic that everything should cost more on the beach.
Except for a few of the saloons on a weekend, none of these places is ever full. Yet there are always three or four new places opening up, all with expensive but tacky décor and $10 prices. Nor is the walking free because it costs a dollar an hour to park your car, and Lord help you, don’t be a minute late. While admitting that any business in Florida is preferable to a minimum wage job, the vast majority of shops on the Broadwalk have been there for decades. While I am quick to agree that the small independent shop is one of the most expensive and inefficient ways of moving merchandise, I’d rather see those than a chain store.
A recent survey shows that 36% of all coffee shops in South Florida are Starbucks. I wonder how many of those are located in small towns? Probably none, I predict they would never get away with what they do in such a setting. You need a citified crowd to charge $3 for a tub of coffee-flavored substance hoping nobody will complain in front of strangers, or point out that a cup is 8 ounces and refills should be free.
Ah, that could be the basis for my first published hack article. I could lambaste Starbucks without ever mentioning their name. Here are some out of sequence but very recent photos of my progressive paint job in the trailer. [The photos are missing.] It has to wait for available early mornings as the summer heat came on early again this year. Global warning in my front yard. You can see the paint difference between the first and second coats. I will have to redo it all later as this Colonial Green paint was on sale due to a defect; it runs thin and does not cover well. Remember, there is no law in Florida that says they cannot advertise defective merchandise on sale as if it were regular stock. I’m checking the [paint] drying rate, which is also incredibly long, it can stay tacky for two days.
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