November 10, 2008

           I very rarely use banks any more, I’ve turned into almost an exclusive ATM patron. That extends to all money machines. When one of them eats my $50 bill, I get antsy. I instantly snapped a photo, another vindication of why you should get a cheap digital camera and carry it with you. The machine would not accept another bill or refund my money. I eventually got it to work, but two ladies nearby were miffed. They must have hit the cancel button and were convinced they’d lost their money, particularly since the staff inside will not refund anything. They saw me take this picture (so can you if you stare at the screen) and said they thought that “was a good idea”.
           Well, what news do I hear? Cowboy Mike was asking Jimbo’s about playing there on Fridays. This comes as no surprise, being that I was asking him to do exactly that over a year ago. I’ve taken to skipping certain weekends because I’ve learned when there is no tip money to be had. Jimbo’s is not a touristy place.
           Trivia. How many pounds of oxygen do you need every day? I would have guessed 10 but it is more like 88 pounds for each person. That’s over 25 billion pounds per day to run the USA, a lot of it commingled with gasoline fumes and second-hand cigarette smoke. The reservoir of oxygen must be far larger than I imagined, probably because I perceived it to be weightless.
           After swearing it off for the nth time, I programmed another web page. It was a donation site for a popular local guy who was jumped in his own back yard and beaten to death. I’ll look up the reports later. It is a plain page of information, but the process of working with people shows there are massive misconceptions about web pages still out there. Let me say it once more. Having a web page means nothing unless you can drive people to it. Unless you advertise, chances are you web page is going to sit there like a lame duck costing you a monthly hosting fee. Very few people surf the web looking for a place to make donations.
           The perfect weather has arrived. Wallace leaves the door open in the mornings, something you can’t do most days up north. It is winter up there, but outside of the Seattle temperature (which automatically displays on my email), I never bother with weather. Particularly ice and snow weather. My opinion is that those who like living in Canada have never lived anyplace else. Sure, I like the cold. But the opposite of cold is not hot, it is warm, and I like the warm even better. I doubt Wallace is looking forward to going back there. Not now that he knows some of the good ways the two systems differ.
           I overheard a biker pickup line today. Yep, biker guy hitting on biker girl. He had seen her walking down the street the other day. He said to her, “I wanted to get on a quart of oil and pump it at ya.” Give him an “A” for sterotype role-playing. Personally, I don’t know any pickup lines because I’ve never had to use any. I do frequently say “Hi” to strange women. From that point on, everything else has always been their idea.