Another four hours taking down that fig tree. This time I’ve got most of the pieces sawn into two- and four-foot lengths. This isn’t thrilling news but at least the tree is in Florida. Chopping down trees and I go back a long ways and let me tell you it wasn’t always such a pleasant experience. The weather was cool enough for me to put in four hours after breakfast. Time for a noon nap and then a bike ride. I’m doing my bit to cut down on the 100,000 gallons of gas I would otherwise use. At least I think that’s the amount of gas the average driver uses in one lifetime, I once calculated it. At the shop, I may have encountered the first Opera virus. It prevents opening the browser and when deleted, tricks the new install into thinking the program is already running. We have been testing System 7, the replacement for Vista. It is the same crap all over again, its primary purpose is stop pirated software from working with Windows.
For some reason, there is no decent trial version of ClickPrint. Even the download from their own site has not been updated since Win95. I’ve noticed a drift from providing good demos toward making money-back guarantees. That’s how they can make getting a refund more trouble than it is worth. There’s that funny smell again, Serif PagePlus.
Later, I dropped in at Jimbo’s to see how Cowboy Mike was getting along. He has a guitarist for the first hour. Mike sings and plays harmonica most of the time although I was not there after the guitar player left. For a band, Mike has a CD player with a bunch of backing tracks. Where he got the idea to do things like that is anybody’s guess. He was stuck playing pre-recorded sets and had to refer to a song list on stage. I brought my DVD player out of the car and showed him the correct way to use the disk.
From there, it was up to Boston’s. Ah, the limelight. I know I’ll never be in concert, but until you’ve walked in on a huge crowd with a bass strapped on your back and everybody’s been waiting for you, you won’t know what you’re missing. It’s just like on TV, with pictures, cameras and both sides of the crowd giving you the high-five all the way up to the stage. It takes a little longer for people to catch on to the effect of my very non-guitar bass style but we had ‘em in the aisles again. Arnel jammed with a new guy that could be his brother. Big Jim was there with his wife, Will danced with her. The show was heavily taped and I may have some stills for you in a day or two.
Businesswise, it has been dead. It has been dead so long that even a recovery will now take too long for most businesses. I had a lousy week and my car is acting up. I was way out on Pine Island when it began misfiring. Knowing better than to get stranded on a main road in Florida, I took side roads all the way back to here. But the predictably strange part was some jerk got behind me and tailgated for ten miles as I twisted through obscure subdivisions. Sensing something was wrong, he kept riding my bumper like I was going to speed up for him. What a buffoon. Is it not amazing how these people appear from nowhere at precisely the wrong time? I mean, since I backtracked twice, he wasn’t even going anywhere I was. I hope I didn’t give him the apoplexy.
