Wallace found a book on fishing. Here he is pointing out a minnow. He has suggested we go on a fishing trip. I’m all for that. The only boat I’ve been on since I got to Florida was JP’s father’s. They go over the side and chase the fish. With spearguns. I think I’d like to try just sitting on the deck and waiting for the line to tug. Wallace thinks we will catch too big a fish, I think over-fishing means that will never happen. Try back this weekend or next as we are already looking for a charter.
How about I red-ass today? That’s where I tell you everything that has gone wrong, both immediate and accumulated. While this is my version, I invite you to ponder what totally stupid things people must have done for years on end to even get on my bad side.First, my “cash” customer pays me with a check made out to cash. The asinine scam was never a frequent problem until I arrived in Florida. Cash means cash. I can’t spend a check at the coffee shop. I have to stop the next day and arrange for transportation downtown to deposit that check, and wait two weeks for the money. Or listen to some idiot say just draw out the money. Right, and risk the $29 fee for a bounce. You have no idea how many idiots I know, and every last one of them is smarter than me because they said so.
What’s more, you should hear the crackpot suggestions I get from people who have never studied accounting in their lives, but anyway. Then, I got to realizing that I have not learned one new song in three months. The reason being that I am so kind that I will not practice when others are in the same room or sleeping. (My music practice would drive anybody crazy.) I appreciate Wallace saying my practice does not bother him, but he has never heard me go at it for five hours without a break.
I can’t afford it (although all could handily have been afforded if my judgement had been trusted about the tenant), but I must construct a music room in the study. I require around four hours of uninterrupted drill to learn each new tune. It is mandatory that I play well enough that nothing distracts me on stage, a complicated undertaking compared to just memorizing the chords and lyrics. Each tune has to be learned well enough to keep going when something unexpected happens on stage.
Over at the bookstore, I looked into methods to lower our electricity bill. Just for perspective, our bill is tiny compared to the rest of the country. I’m afraid I can only report that the books I found had suggestions were too simplistic. Wallace and I have never left taps running. We followed guidelines before they were called that, including full laundry loads only, more fans that air conditioners and turning off the oven 15 minutes before the baking is done. I have only used my bedroom air conditioner twice since August. The only possibility I saw was a company that will double tar your roof and put in a layer of shrubs that grow over the tar. Apparently this lowers the inside temperature to 89 degrees. No price was quoted.
Later, I previewed an excellent comedy called “Role Models”, to be released next month. Totally adult humor and a lot of it. No slapstick, no Robin Williams’ rapid fire, rather a near-believable steady presentation of mostly sex jokes and vulgar language. It is a good investment, I’d pay to see it. It adequately shocks anyone who thinks children don’t learn about sex until they are 18. Although two men get top billing, several female actors are definitely award material, Jane Lynch and Elizabeth Banks. Also, the role of director of a children’s help group is bound for television. Two roles I didn’t care for were the most stereotyped: the black child and his (gag me) black single mother--ebonics and type-casting did not make up for their obvious lack of acting talent.
Books. I’m re-reading another Clancy-style war hero novel. That is not exactly a compliment, since after the first few of Clancy’s, I could not remember which one I’d just read. Today’s title is “Thirty-four East”, concerning an
“. . . insisted on being a soldier first and a black second.”
“. . . his short-cropped hair seeming to brush the ceiling.”
“. . . could have his pick of American girls.”
“. . . we must show them we are not intimidated.”
Isn’t this the nonsense that started World War I? Every country’s politicians and war parties start insisting any move to defuse the situation will be interpreted as a “sign of weakness”. You can listen to the same logic nightly if you go over to Wiley Street to watch the barroom brawls. And no, I don’t buy that clap that when things go bad we’ll “be glad” to have such soldiers on our side. They seem to come out of the woodwork on their own wherever any trouble starts, so why keep them available at public expense? If America doesn’t find something better than politicians to run this country, you all best go get your handbaskets.
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