May 27, 2008

           This is a nice little apartment they are renovating near here, the type of project I once wanted to get into. I would have made this into two decent townhouses, but this is Florida and I believe they are keeping it as four sweatbox apartments. I can’t see inside, but from the arrangement of doors, there is a chance they are making it into six. Typical. Although I can’t see it making much difference, the government has issued a bailout program for people with mortgages. Even if it flies, millions will be basically spending all their disposable income on a place to live. Gee, that is just too bad.
           JP didn’t show so I had a lot of fun moving the heavy things by myself. I’ve got the desk and mattress mostly situated. The priority was getting the computer set up and I realized that has been the priority in my life for close to 28 years, that is, around twice even for the so-called whiz kinds. I still know some people whose first concern is getting beer in the fridge.
           There are lots of such types out there and I kind of had to get obvious with one of them who called several times this morning. It seems Fred had built her a computer and installed a jack to make it compatible with some ancient monitor she wouldn’t junk. On my own I won’t even help people with Windows 98 any more; let them live in the Stone Ages. Anyway, this lady was a piece of work. She kept on about how Fred had let her down and put an old motherboard on her new computer. I finally told her if she wanted the problem fixed, I’d help, but if she only wanted to find fault and blame, I was busy. She said something with that “men sticking together” tone and hung up.
           I’d place her as one of those types who is just good enough at one thing to keep from being rated a total loser. You know such people, they can work some idiot occupation that keeps them off welfare, like running the switchboard or music lessons, crap like that. They are part educated, but only abuse it to win arguments, or better put, to talk more crap until the other person gives up and walks away. Here’s part of the details.
           She said her monitor didn’t work, so I said to save her money since I charge for callouts, plug the monitor into another computer and see if the trouble recurred. She answered to the effect that I must think she is totally stupid to give her such instructions. Remember, this broad had called me for help. These have got to be some of the strangest bastards in the human race. They are the ones that buy a car but never learn about even the simplest repairs, preferring to complain all mechanics are crooks.
           All in all, it was a day of heavy work punctuated by these lowlifes. For example, the overly friendly Latin guy from down the lane came over and started talking to me. Oh, he says he can see I repair computers. And I have a lot of tools. And so on. I finally told him he could come back and be friendly some other time when I didn’t have my front door open and my back turned. I reported him to Eric, who says the police have already been called on him several times and were due to evict him later today.
           Another record tank up on the car, $60.00, and that was just 15 gallons. I wonder if it is just my imagination, but the gas prices seem to have taken a disproportionately large number of the bad drivers off the road. Nobody constantly cutting you off and passing in the right lane. Nobody weaving in and out on the freeway. Lots of empty streets and parking lots.
           Did I mention “The Tenants”? It is a chick flick about two guys after the same woman, plenty ho-hum. I am using it to test various software programs and go to watching the sub-plot. Both of the guys are writers and it is hilarious to see how stereotyped the occupation is portrayed. Every cliché I could think of. Clacking away at an old typewriter. Ripping pages out of the carriage and wadding them up (how stale can you get). Living a cold and lone existence in a tenement. Taking years to complete one work. Writer’s block, power spots and inspirations. There must be fewer people than I think who really know anything about writing.
           For the record, I’ve been typing since I was around 8 years old, and formally learned to type at 14. I’ve owned a typewriter all my life, but I have yet to produce anything on one. I have either written long-hand or used a computer. Incidentally, the first thing I ever did on a computer was write, I believe it was on an Apple product in 1981. How about you?
           It was not my favorite day, so I relaxed by inventing a few new categories for Ridiculist (the game). This may be the one solitary thing I can do naturally, and it doesn’t pay a thing – come up with novel patterns. Here’s a sample of what I created today: things people break (promises, wind, dance), type of parties (hen, poker, war) and things thrown with one hand (kisses, grenades, birdseed). What do I mean birdseed? Well, see, you need your other hand to hold the bag… Ha! Made you think!