March 31, 2009

           Of course, we hit the worst rainstorm in years. Shortly before dark, we passed Daytona, FL, and it rained straight through to Lumberton, NC. This photo gives you a good idea of the conditions. The drive was pretty much non-stop except for a couple of stops at rest areas. At the first one, the coffee machine was out of order and at the second, there was no coffee machine. You know what is weird? The way these Interstate rest stops are so unevenly spaced.
           We had planned to stop at the first rest area we hit north of Jacksonville, and there was nothing for a hundred miles. When we pulled away from the second stop mentioned above, there was another fully equipped stop less than five miles up the road. But we were already back on the freeway. That’s what happens when you give the government too much money. All three cats (hers) rode in pet carriers up in the cab with us. They were strangely silent and slept most of the way.
           Teresa likes Waffle House food. Of all the times I’ve passed them, this was the first time I ever ate there. It was nice but I found the food identical to Denny’s. You don’t know how I practically lived at Denny’s during my early 20’s. I’ve undoubtedly said, but I like the fact that Denny’s coffee was consistent across the country. And just so you’ll know, the rest areas are clogged with semi-trailers overnight. There is always the odor of diesel in the air.
           We tanked up just once, 36 gallons costing $90. The truck was getting seven miles per gallon on the open road. It had cruise control and by keeping a steady speed of 65, we got 450 miles out of a tank. The truck was heavily equipped with warning bells and lights when the onboard computer detected there was less than 120 miles worth of fuel left. There are a lot of excellent radio stations, something we just don’t have in south Florida. All we get is Latino and Rap. If you are into it, those stations completely clog your radio dial, no dead air at all.
           We passed a lot of freeway intersections but did not really see any towns or sights. The land is flat and most towns lack tall buildings. For the most part, the land seemed uninhabited. Mostly pine forests and as usual, around 10% of the roadway was under construction. That cost us a few hours. In the end, the 12 hour trip took almost 17 hours. This also means at the time we arrived in Wilmington, I had been awake 24 of the previous 27 hours.
           That is Teresa waving from the front of her dad’s house near Horn Road. It is easy to get around in Wilmington. We met up at a parking lot on the south side and followed him home through a subdivision. I guess being beyond tired kicked in, because when her dad asked what we wanted to do, we said tour the old part of town. It was also my chance to show that I don’t require entertainment like some guests. He got that, handed us the keys to an Oldsmobile Cutlass (Gutless) and away we went. Return another day for more photos because I’m already way ahead of today.

March 30, 2009

Missing post.
What happened to March 30, 2009?

March 29, 2009

           An overcast and rainy day pushing the humidity up over 90%. Here is a photo of blue flowers growing on Wallace’s vine he trained to grow on the old clothesline. The morning glories are coming back, I think. Ah, springtime in the Everglades. I’m packed and ready to head out tomorrow morning. We may make it a two day trip since it looks like we won’t get out of town until way past noon. She’s got two guys from the car wash ready to load the truck.
           All this brings back memories of my last cross-country trip. That was to San Diego six years ago now. I no longer believe anyone who tells me they are an experienced long-distance shift driver after that. Frank told me he was, so I took the first shift from Miami to Port Charles. Then he takes over and immediately cranks the radio up full blast. Er, Frank, it is my turn to sleep, what is with the music? Oh, he says, “I use it to keep me awake.”

           You know, I was unable to sleep a single wink after he told me that, like I don’t know radio stations fade off the air. That was a 43 hour trip. Everybody is idiosyncratic to a degree, but I prefer people where it is temperamental rather than behavioral. You can work around temperament. Teresa and I are the latter type. Teresa thinks decaf coffee is worse for you than regular. Somebody told her it was treated with bleach. Myself, I did thorough research on the subject before switching to decaf on December 5, 1992. Each thinks the other is misinformed but neither of us puts the other at risk over it.

           [Author's note 2014: that last statement is unclear. It is a referral to changing things that affect others without informing them first. I'm saying I don't mind hearing nonsense as long as the only thing the other person does is talk.]

           The last minute schedule means we may not make it all the way in one day. I’m going to take only 26 pictures on the trip. This avoids having to take a laptop along to download pictures, a necessity since camera manufacturers are too retarded to build the software drivers into the camera itself, or to include a slide-out USB port. All other photos will have to be on Teresa’s excellent camera which involves finding a memory card reader in Cape Fear, North Carolina.
           I’ve got Cakewalk working again and Arnel is going to reverse burn me a copy of the 4,000 program DVD. I seem to have misplaced the original along with the manual right after I made his copy. Of all the things Cakewalk does, one of the most difficult is adding lyrics to Karaoke. I wonder who is responsible for that gem?
           The round trip may take up to four days. Pudding-Tat is well taken care of. I declined the airplane trip and will do the Greyhound bus, which plunks me in Ft. Lauderdale near midnight. Come to think of it, I don’t even know where the terminal is. They closed the local bus station just a few years ago. You watch, it will be miles from the Metrorail. That should add to the adventure. I didn’t even check to see if it was Easter weekend until y’day.

           [Author's note 2014: the bus terminal is actually quite near the local transit station. My comment was probably meant a jab at the typical Florida way of doing things.]

           Time for the “Sopranos” update. The production is showing its age in weaker scripts. Lots of dreams and flashbacks but at least none of them use existing sets or characters in their old roles. They’ve got Tony getting slapped out by Buddhist monks. It is still a great series that must have aired on a popular weeknight, since I never saw a single episode until Mike lent me the disks.
           The mystery of the banging noise in the living room has been solved. I’d hear a crash and take a look in case the cat knocked something over. This has been going on for a week. Nothing. Around noon, I hear birds going at it in the trees and slid open the patio door. I have had to start closing the door due to the early heat wave. It must be instinct because that cat is well-fed. The moment she felt the breeze, she leaped full blast at the birds without thinking and hit the screen door head on. Bang!

           With that, I’ll be signing off for a few days. No more low-brow until late in the week. This will be the longest stretch in roughly six years that I have not written or played music every day. For today’s trivia, I’ll talk about low-brow, as the term can be misunderstood. High-brow and low-brow are nearly synonymous with high education and low education.
           I say nearly synonymous because a person of high education is not necessarily high-brow unless that education has been previously exploited for financial gain, including the gain of impressing ancestors with inheritable belongings. Why do you suppose they have degrees in Liberal Arts? My writing here is low-brow primarily in that it is not intended to require schooling to be informative and hopefully entertaining. James Joyce could not have said it better. And certainly not any clearer.

           Perhaps an example will illustrate the difference, keeping in mind that said difference is not my point, which comes later. A Picasso painting hangs on the wall. Low-brows know that people are not cubes and triangles with two eyes on one side of their head. High-brows have “learned” that Picasso was influenced by primitive African art and consider it most innovative that he tore off pieces of whatever he was sitting on and glued it to his work. (Low-brows can be glad he didn’t paint while using the crapper.)
           My point is that high-brow goes beyond art appreciation. High-brow cannot be separated from the means to have the education (and leisure time) to purchase both the painting and wall to hang it on. My blog is low-brow and does not require an air/hotel package to Spain to say you’ve seen it. Wherever you may be reading this, I solidly assure you that zero percent of it has ever been written sitting on the john. No computer in there.

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March 28, 2009

           Music dominates again, so it is a good thing you come here to read about the newest and best I can find. Remember, I come from a place and time each band member was only responsible for his own gear. Those were the days. First thing, I was pleased to find Mackie is still in business and have preserved their excellent reputation for quality musical equipment. For anyone who just arrived, my stage equipment weighs close to 180 pounds and I intend to put it on a starvation diet.
           Big Jim uses a 12-channel Mackie powered mixer. My 8-channel Gigrack does a comparable job for being the heaviest chunk of gear in my inventory. Mackie builds a 402, a small 150-watt stereo mixer that seems to be full-featured. It will mean I have no spare jacks on stage for jamming, but somehow I no longer think that is so bad, Florida. If it works for me, all I have to find is the best set of midget speakers in the world.
           Teresa came by the shop and I am now her appointed agent for the condo. Oh, did I mention Fred finally made the motorcycle team. Congratulations. Mike brought me another laptop to see if results are better, and he threw in two more seasons of the “Sopranos”. I promptly lost the power chord for the laptop from my pocket as I rode my bike home. The Taurus is running fine although I did miss that gig I wanted to see at Alligator Alley last weekend.
           A few hours later, I drove to get Teresa and we headed for Toucans. Everybody showed up, including Big Jim and Patrick. That’s Arnel dancing on the Broadwalk seawall. There is a synergy to our stage act that was never quite there with any other band I’ve jammed with around here, Charles the sax player aside. This was also Teresa’s going away party. She told me she never quite knew that music shows were a lot more show than music. I can think of a few other people she could clue in on that one.
           My current mission is to find software that modifies Karaoke lyrics without using the wearisome dash method. I’ve determined one Karaoke screen around 32” will be enough for my act if I set it on a pole beside me on stage. I cannot exist without sing-a-long but that doesn’t mean I want it to eclipse my performance . I only get a couple hecklers a year, always failed guitarists. I can see their point of view, them suddenly discovering they are dispensable and all.
           I’m dropping up to a third of my old music, including a few venerable classics like “Stand By Me” and “Stray Cat Strut”. They just don’t produce results any more. I may also step up the proportion of chick tunes (which I have no qualms whatsoever of playing) to include Madonna and Estafan. I suffered a five year gap in my musical career while I was struggling through school, no radio, no bass. No new clothes or shoes either, but that’s another story. To me, Nirvana sounds atonal and retrograde.
           A little trivia for people foolish enough to invest in gold. The residential real estate bubble has burst, so next in line is commercial real estate. Americans have become a nation of consumers without producing anything. When the credit runs out, fewer dollars will chase the same goods, driving prices up, including the price of gold. Here’s the trivia part most people don’t know. The IMF (International Monetary Fund) has 400 tons of gold stashed away. They have announced they will sell 50 tons when the price exceeds $900 per ounce. That should be soon.
           This million or so ounces of gold will cause the price to stabilize for the next 20 years, even if they don’t dump more onto the market. I won’t go into the numbers and inflation but gold as a security only works in a “closed” market system, like the USA was before World War II. We no longer produce most of what we use. What about playing it safe by buying bonds? Forget it, that is the next thing to implode.
           Think about it. Who are the primary issuer of bonds (other than the Feds)? Towns and cities. Where do they get the collateral to issue bonds? From taxes based on property values. What, are we back to real estate again? The total amount that has been borrowed by all the city halls can never be paid back. Do you know what brought down every pyramid scheme in history? Somebody along the line demanded real money.
           Last thing, I’ve already got a few inquiries over my mention of Gordie Walker, the musician who inspired my act the most. People wanting to know if he is any relation to Gordie Walker, the retired NHL player who is 14 years younger than me. Folks, at the expense of name-dropping, they are exactly the same person. He never once talked about sports and I know when something is none of my business. I have no trouble accepting that some people can do more than one thing in life. Wait, this is Florida. I take that back. Don’t want to hurt any feelings.
           Not everyone wears their medals on their chest.

March 27, 2009

           Beachfront property is routine bunk as far as I’m concerned, but the current depression in prices is sponging up the remaining easy money. According to certain what-ifs (a projection using a spreadsheet), some of the older motels are beginning to look like bargains. They aren’t. Take today’s picture for example. Are they demolishing or renovating? Either way, they will likely not increase the amount of parking, which is one stall per unit. Yet the units are priced to require a two income buyer.
           They never fall who never climb, and today I took a tumble with my choice of software. All the work done for my new show is incompatible another change I have to make. It was a chance I willingly took. The bright side is I can do it myself. More good news. Remember that DVD with 4,000 programs from England? I gave Arnel a copy and he reports that many of the applications we need, including Virtual Sound Tech (VST), were on that disk.
           This folks, is where real teamwork pays off. I had the disk for years used only the software I needed. He finds the music apps right away and knows how to use them. I told him if he keeps up such good work, I’m going to have to pay him back that twenty dollars I owe him.
           Arnel was in the shop for several hours, during which we plowed through program after program. One of the more interesting items is a music compressor. It makes all the tunes on a playlist come out at the same volume. We got WinAmp to play back my MP3s, and the “ticky-bop” problem (from the stage show last week) cannot be fixed. Hence, the incompatibility just mentioned and the need to re-do everything.
           A lot of guitarists may not appreciate what I say next, but so what? Most guitar strums are really nothing more than extremely simple piano boogie riffs. Midi has a hard time producing realistic guitar sounds. Arnel just fills back in but that is the one thing I can’t do. Applying the principle in reverse, he replaced some of those strange Karaoke guitar tracks with VST piano. What an incredible sound! This is a winner and it meshes with my piano mind-set.
           Thanks to my gear not working right, I had to do my traditional show at Jimbos tonight, and it should surprise nobody the tips were pretty light. My regulars accept that a transformation is underway. There was a heckler in the audience but these people get nowhere in the face of my regular crowd.
           Looks like I’ve written myself into a corner. A few days back I made the statement that I did not know what a proxy server was in my early days. Turns out lots of people don’t know either, so I will generically describe one. For security, a LAN (local area network) is channeled through a single computer, which in turn handles all Internet traffic. The local users only think they are connected directly to the Internet when they are actually connected to a single computer. This computer has an internal side, facing the LAN and an external side facing the Internet. It examines every packet of information going either way to make sure it is legitimate.
           This computer contains heavy security and anti-virus software. It usually creates a log of every keystroke and every operation. It blocks certain sites and filters incoming traffic. That computer is called the proxy server. There are infinite variations but the concept is simple. A common arrangement is to have the proxy server on its own separate mini-LAN with two specially configured routers creating a “demilitarized zone”. Any intruder who breaks through the firewall only gets as far as the proxy server, which contains no sensitive company files. When installed in this way, the proxy server is also referred to as a “bastion host”. You can look that one up yourself.
           If you must know, my area of experience is the configuration of those special routers, of which most home users have only one. I still know practically nothing about proxy servers other than what I just told you. The majority of routers I configure are to the bare minimum standards for home wireless. You know, the kind you need to turn on your laptop’s antenna before you can use it.

           Author's note 2015-03-27: In the end, I never did get Arnel back the twenty. I stopped by at his place dozens of times, it being right on my way home. His van was there but no answer. I can only presume he is working the cruise ships again. My conscience is clear, I really tried. This was the twenty I borrowed that day I took Theresa to the show and lost the twenty I had on me. I found it a week later in my right shirt pocket.

March 26, 2009

           Back in the 1980s the primary mode of transportation in Bangkok was a type of motorized rickshaw called a “tuk-tuk”, pronounced “took-took”. They are larger than the vehicle in today’s picture, but the concept is the same. Tuk-tuks carry two people plus the driver. I found it easier to get around the swarming Bangkok traffic jams by hiring a kid on a regular motorcycle to wind us through the gaps between other cars. It took half a day, but at least you got there.
           This is the first time I’ve seen a tuk-tuk offered for sale in America. The utility of such transportation is limited by the seasons here. Still, the very fact of seeing one is like writing on the wall. It is well-covered elsewhere the way America is designed so people cannot shop, commute or even get to a hospital without some type of motorcar. Worse, this process has been going on since the car was invented. People will drive a gas-guzzler to the shopping mall five miles away to “save” on their groceries. There will be hell to pay for this mentality.
           Take a closer look at this motorbike. Can you see the left-hand gear shift stick beside the drivers seat? There is a right-foot brake pedal on the floor. I looked at the odometer reading 272 miles, which made me wonder why this vehicle was so banged up. Lots of dents and scratches. The back seat would fit one mildly fat American or two very small children. Something else to consider is the narrow straddle. This makes it easy to tip over in the wretched state of Florida’s roadways and the small tires are a convenient fit for your average pothole around here.
           By happenstance, the name of the hotel I [usually] stayed at in Bangkok was called the “Miami”. This is the same hotel Tony Wheeler reviews in “Lonely Planet” with the goofy signs telling Australians not to dive out of the third storey balconies. It only makes sense if you know the hotel has a swimming pool below those balconies and that drunk Ozzies will do anything for attention. Come to think of it, are there any other kind of Ozzies? Normally my stay in Bangkok was short, as I was usually on my way to the Thai South Western Coast, which faces the Indian Ocean.
           Bangkok is called the Venice of the East because it is built on a low coastal plain. The tiniest rise in ocean level makes the streets flood. There is no adequate sewer system and you can get around on barges and ferries. My hotel was on Sukhumvit Road, a major thoroughfare that is one-way without any clearly defined return route. Yes, I was a few miles from Pat Pong Road, but I’ve only been there once or twice. Both times with German friends who wanted to see the place (I already had a local gal, Tomoon Don). Pat Pong is the tourist sex Mecca with all the butterfly bars. It has its attractions for men who like prostitutes. I do not.
           Take my advice and get out of Bangkok fast. A bus or plane to the southern panhandle puts you in a different world, although that world is already largely gone. They built a Club Med at Phuket, totally wrecking the character of that island paradise. Go anyway, as anything is better than smelly Bangkok and the thousands of men all ready to pay for sex. Mostly, you will see Arabs who are forbidden any form of vice in their own countries, but instantly ignore any Islamic fundamentalism soon as they become anonymous. They hang around the hotel lobbies all day in their pajamas and do unspeakable things all night.
           There are also hordes of German men. At least they are highly skilled, speak English and have a semblance of manners. Be prepared for crazy Australians. No manners, no brains and the morality of bastard-rats. To break it down, out of every 1,000 tourists you see, 990 will be Arabs, Germans or Australians. However, the sheer size of the industry means you will still meet plenty of other types. Out in the countryside I even met white women who were not my type, mind you. But Bangkok is no place for ordinary people.
           If I ever go back to Thailand, it will be mostly to see what has changed. I remember it like y’day and I know it isn’t dreamland any more. The sex trade economy makes it difficult to get anything else done. Sadly, I see parallels in America, where the willingness of weak-minded men to pay for a thrill quickly makes gold-diggers out of all the decent looking women. These frustrated men don’t realize they are just making it worse for themselves and you certainly can’t blame the women for succumbing. You can’t, but I do, for you see, I’ve met enough women in my life who are not like that to think they all are. But that is another story. Sigh.
           Arnel was over to pick up software. Jim invited us to dinner but I had just finished a huge meal. I prefer they tell me the decisions later. Chances are we’ll be meeting up on Saturday to jam live. (Teresa says she has a great video of last week where we had the crowd dancing in the aisles.) I ran over what tunes I’ve got with Arnel and there is no doubt my new show has his musical influence stamped all over it. Again, I admire a true entertainer, and damn, they are in short supply around here. The previous person who had such impact on my show was Gordie. Let me check if it has been 15 years. Yes. Gordie Walker.
           He was the rising star of California, a lead player for Roy Orbison. I’ll repeat some facts about Gordie. He was Mr. Stage Show. They had him slated to be the next king of guitar. His stage personality was far too expansive to remain somebody’s flunky. He never told anybody what changed his mind, but one day he packed his stuff and left Los Angeles, never to return. He drove to near the Canadian border and married a gal who was supervisor of a Dairy Queen. He plays only skid-road bars and VFWs, where his show is so fantastic 99% of the barflies don’t have the attention span to appreciate it. Pearls before swine but you never met a happier musician.
           Gordie bought a house on the north side and as far as I know, Robyn and I were the only non-family ever invited to visit. I should re-contact him one day. I still draw a lot of my stage moves from his show. He was so far above the rest that he created a vacuum. One thing we shared was a rare talent for playing music the way people remember it, rather than the way it goes. It drives the crowd wild but in another case of pearls and swine, is impossible to demonstrate how that works to most guitarists with their “follow me” attitude. They can’t hear it.
           Good performers are a far better set than the prima donna perfectionist types who never amount to much. Like myself, performers are team players who do not afford vocalists or guitarists any special status. The good news for today is my expenses have fallen to 18.1% of my income. You can’t do that driving twenty miles to the next county. If you don’t evolve, you become extinct. Wait, there is more good news. In two months I will have had a steady house gig for two years.
           [Author’s note: That’s two years, and I’d like to shake that fact under the nose of any big shots out there. If you are so damn good, where is your following? When’s the last time anybody invited you back? When we walked in the door of all those places you said were your greatest gigs, how come nobody knew your name or even looked up? There are more questions where those came from.]

March 25, 2009

           I took a closer look at one of these toy cars this morning. It seems to have all the features (a/c, automatic, and power everything) and looks like a good idea for around town. The compartment between the back seats is suitable for groceries or a couple of suitcases. The reason I’m even looking is because of the possibility of a job. It seems one of the local utility companies is hiring and they have a policy of only “mature” workers. After reading around twenty of their postings, they just might have themselves a new guy. If so, they are gonna wonder how they hit the jackpot.
           The morning was taken up doing a little chasing around with Teresa, mostly getting moving boxes. We grabbed a pizza and finalized plans for the big move next week. No word from Wallace but that white-beard guy who asked about him walks past now almost every day. This area is becoming a much more desirable address as the economy continues to sink below sea level.
           The real estate market is experiencing a rebound, but that is all it is. What’s happening is the people who held back are starting to pick up foreclosed properties at around 25 cents on the dollar. This gives the artificial impression that sales are going up. Another side-effect is buyers competing for these foreclosed properties are sometimes causing them to bid over the asking price.
           For example, a property listed at $104,000 sold for $108,000. Before you jump for joy, the same property was listed at $410,000 last year. Good, we’ll need a series of these false readings to squeeze out all the excess cash. This first round of bottom-feeding speculators are no smarter than the ones before them. The housing market is nowhere near rock bottom yet.
           Arnel called for a progress report. We’ve called a meeting shortly to co-ordinate song lists and do the upgrades with Cakewalk. Some tunes are going to have to have lyrics plugged in and that is my department. I’ve shown him what I’ve done and we will exchange all midi files we have with lyrics, sort of like both of us having a full off-site backup copy. In the future if either of us is due to drop by for a jam session, this will ensure none of the music we have rehearsed together will play earlier that gig.
           Jim also called. He’s got some surplus microphones to donate for my show. Remember that I never had any use for good microphones until quite recently. In fact, the ones I have are old cardoids I saved from being thrown out. Everything Jim uses is quality so they will be top of the line. As well, I got the name of that midget PA system Jim uses and he confirms it worked superbly for a Karaoke show they did at the Rip Tide two weeks ago. The brand name is “Mackie”, which I haven’t heard of in decades.
           Between us, we feel we are duplicating a lot of effort. We have taken aim on this problem. Take the midi music, for instance. Arnel will choose tunes that have the lyrics where I will choose the same tunes for how realistic the music sounds and those often lack lyrics. Jim uses any material he wants. By coordinating matters, Arnel will be improving the sounds, and I will learn to inject the lyrics. While I’m at it, I’m going to take another look at midi programming because some Karaoke versions are plain wrong. Results from this are still months down the line.
           The Hippie has flown into a “towering rage” over passages in this blog. In a public place he yelled that I had “no friends”. Strange, considering he was alone and I was with a date. You know how these purported New Age addicts are for twisting facts around backward. I will extend the Hippie my standard offer to change or remove any words in this blog that are not absolute truth, provided you prove in writing which words are not correct.

March 24, 2009

           If you really don’t know already, this is a picture of a dog wearing a Palin wig. (Sarah Palin, did I get that right? It’s not as if I actually know who these politicians are.) The one whose email password was hacked because of information she posted on her Facebook profile, double duh. That whole situation must have been very embarrassing. To the dog.
           I send price lists to five overseas accounts and one domestic. Times are bad when Americans can’t buy useless things for their pets. What’s more, the National Geographic article will be in a the version “for Kids”, and not the real thing. What’s more, the copy is already written and it won’t be published until August. So meanwhile stock up on lots of junk before they cancel your credit card.
           If you want to find out what really hurts, try selling something overseas these days. There was a time when American articles were desirable both for quality and price. Although labor was cheaper elsewhere, that is all they had, while we had the machines that mass-produced. And machines cost money. Now it must seem American goods are crappy. Everything produced here seems outrageously overpriced. The doggie wigs are an exception, because the only competing products are modified human wigs which are not really suitable for animals.
           I’d almost forgotten what it was to drive a half-hour to work in the morning. I’m certain if I don’t do it ever again, I will be able to completely blot it out. Jerks on the roads, drawbridges, it’s no wonder people get road rage. My favorite locals are the ones, when there is one lane blocked up ahead on a two lane road, they pull out from behind and speed up beside you so you’re trapped in the blocked lane. I stopped at Borders on the return leg and stayed there until the traffic died out.
           Two hours at the bookstore confirms they have switched their inventory model to only stock what sells. Aisles of cookbooks and travel guides, but nothing on North Carolina for me to browse. Even the clientele has changed and kind of looks like me some fifteen years ago. The coffee is still $1.75 for a small with no refills. One book was a survey of the top 100 albums (not songs, albums), this time based on a poll given only to professional musicians, thus getting my attention. Do professional musicians think the same as Florida guitar players?
           As expected even fifty years after the fact, the Beatles still held top count with five albums. All five were in the top twenty, including “Revolver” with at numero uno. Since I have a point to prove, I glanced down the entire list. The majority were bands, but there were a significant number of solo artists. (I suspect if the list was adjusted for the effect of today’s larger music market, the Beatles would hold the top ten slots. And remember, I only like about 30 tunes they ever did, so I’m no Beatles fan.)
           What I was looking for was any mention of Clapton, because his worshippers call him “the greatest blues guitarist of all time”. Nope, he’s not there. I think he played with “Cream”, which came in near the bottom at number 88. I find his music to be the opiate of the audience. He is only called great or blues by people who have never heard of BB King.
The general blog rule is to discuss the immediate day and hold the actual flashbacks to a minimum. While watching the “Sopranos” tonight, a beach scene reminded me of an incident when I was a teenager. I’ll give you the facts; you can decide whether you want to read anything into it. (Note that because of the 15-year rule, I can use real names.)
           I was dating Judy Minty. There was this jerkface, Apollo (actually Paulo) who was twice my weight, so there wasn’t much stopping him from hitting on her in front of my face. Judy would encourage him by “being polite”.
           I’d often asked her not to practice this sexual brinkmanship while we were on a date. The slimy Apollo went so far as to make friends with my buddy, Medha, who was dating Judy’s best friend, Nora. Medhat planned a double-date campout to Lake Sylvan. Came time to leave, there is Apollo in Medhat’s car, with no date of his own.
           At first I balked, but Judy said I was being silly. She sat between us in the back seat. I was trapped in that car for the hundred-mile drive listening to that inane idiot and his 1930’s pickup lines. Worse, Medhat and Nora seemed to think this all was pretty funny.
           We got to the beach and lit a fire. I cannot remember the precise point, but no way was I putting up with another moment of this sick situation. I told Judy I was leaving. I walked off into the forest in the middle of nowhere. I was only going away to think this thing away and come back. Fate intervened.
           Barely 100 yards into the bush, I stumbled into the next campsite. I stepped out of the solid bush and right into a group of my old computer university buddies, Tex and Warren, with their girlfriends. By pure chance, they were also at the lake for the day. I rode home with them. Judy showed up a few hours later playing the innocent.
           Still, Judy remained predisposed to this outrageous behavior right up to the time we split a few months later. Tonight brought this memory back crystal clear, that beach scene was the trigger. Ah, I just remembered the final straw. We only had two tents. As far as I was concerned, Apollo was sleeping with Medhat and Nora, they invited him. But that greasy Apollo had the gall to get Judy to ask me to invite him to share our tent. Over my dead body.
           No further comment.

March 23, 2009

           Does this building look familiar by now? They are offering the units for 45% off (a healthy chunk) and no closing costs, fancy that. The immediate vicinity is full of vacant shops where you can relocate your business. As long as that business has nothing to do with boring formalities like cost ratios, inventory, profit margins, legalities or any anything tangible, you’ll be okay, if not fine.
           The car is in the shop so I had time to surf. One thing that always irked me was the Internet “money” system. PayPal, which to me is a terrible outfit, only dominates because it was the one picked by eBay. PayPal’s biggest failing is that it is not a cash system (as was originally promised). Every transaction is recorded. I’ve often felt there is a huge market for a truly anonymous system, where both the purchase and the purchaser remain unknown unless they care to make the revelation.
           Online, has two bad choices. Credit card information with all its attendant evils, or a system of online tokens that only authorized dealers can redeem for cash. This reminds me of early Europe, where the money had to travel overland and highwaymen had a heyday. I reckon that is really because the transaction always took place where the seller resided. Somebody finally came up with the idea of “setoff”, where the financial transactions took place where the buyer resided. The remote parties only exchanged scrip (otherwise worthless pieces of paper) instead of gold. Then once a year, they met to set off each other’s scrip, and pay out any remaining difference.
           This wheel needs to be reinvented on the Internet. It is necessary for the remote parties to survive on their own until the first “convention”, but that is tempered by the fact they really need only enough cash to cover the difference in balances. This role was once filled by banking houses. Modern “banks” are a joke by comparison, no laughing matter to anyone who has tried to cash a check without having an account at the branch.
           Is there a third Internet option, one that requires neither credit cards or tokens? Where the only thing transmitted is electronic scrip? This requires very deep thought, but there is an answer just one step beyond what anybody else has thought of. Instead of wracking my brain about the Internet, I could accomplish the same effect by moving the transaction close to the buyer. Nobody seems to be thinking about this. Get back to me later. Meanwhile ask yourself if there was ever anything you were tempted to buy online, but decided against due to lack of privacy. I say this happens all the time.
           The radiator hose. The mechanic motioned me into the cage to show me the special tool ($119) required to make the repair. I told you it needed something fancy. The $56 labor I spend shows that. I only test drove the car as far as Jimbos where everything seems to have worked out just fine thereafter. I watched the videos Arnel published on youTube and I recommend you take a look yourself. (Go to youTube, and search on [Arnel Dayrit video]). It will give you a definitive idea concerning my concept of a band stage show presentation, a show which has little to do with being the perfect musician. Very little, indeed.
           Later, I have more information about Internet purchasing. There are some ingenious methods, one of which I’ll describe in a moment. All known methods in use are enhancements to standard purchasing procedures, that is, they still use an existing system. That means they all lack the key feature: Anonymity. Of what is available, the best thought-out is a system called SET for “Secure Electronic Transmission”. When you place an order, you never send your credit card number over the Internet. Instead, you send a code to the seller that identifies you and indicates which card you will be using.
           The merchant receives this data, and sends a message to your credit card company. Then, get this, the credit card company, not the merchant, sends you a request to confirm you placed the order. If so, the merchant gets the final go ahead from the credit card company, not from you. In essence, it takes three parties to make each transaction. All this happens in a few seconds.
           Still, it is but an adaptation of the credit system, which few people actually like. It is also finicky and I suspect highly vulnerable to inside jobs. It produces a paper trail and the probability of abuse is 100%. I smell the first billion dollar rip-off in. Why? For openers, only the transaction that uses the Internet because the credit card company doesn’t trust the web worth a damn. The actual funds transfer will still use the secure private network the credit companies had in place long before Internet shopping came along. Now you know.

March 22, 2009

           How I hate to give up a project, but thanks to Ford Motors, replacing that rad hose requires professional help. Unless there is a special tool like super long-nose vise grips, the next step is taking the belts, alternator, water pump and other pulleys off the motor to get at it. The good news is Inow own a good set of jack stands.
           Don’t expect entertainment since this took all day and then some. I put six miles on the bike getting parts, drank a pot of tea helped Carlos change a tire on a Mercedez and am going to spend the evening with the “Sopranos”. Grease up to my elbows shows I gave it the old college try. Good old Ford saved 50 cents in the manufacturing process again. As you see in the photo the tire is off and the front end is two feet up off the ground. Part of the problem is Ford uses spring clips instead of hose clamps.
           Teri called, we are basically set for a week from Monday as long as she gets a few more packing boxes. That means I am going to take the car to the shop tomorrow so I am back on the road. Arnel also called to say he won’t be playing the beach today due to a bad cold. He sounded hoarse, like me a month ago. I’m having trouble with Cakewalk, some of my modules won’t load, others won’t transfer. My vocals are still terribly weak but progressing.
           No music, no car. What good am I? Other than the other stuff, I mean. For instance, did you notice in today’s photo where the “No Parking” sign used to be? It was right above the headlight. It is actually our sign, but as you know, I am acquainted with people stupid enough to get exactly the wrong idea from any given set of facts. So out it came, or at least it decided to go transparent.
           I read late last evening. I don’t quote the author and title of books every time, because it is what the book is about that is most important. Same with movies, you are supposed to watch them, not sit there memorizing the credits. Anyway, it was a mystery about a lady who got stuck sitting her husband’s mother. All her husband ever did was come by, smoke a cigarette, and leave her to do all the work. One day, the lady noticed the late afternoon sun had been focused by a table lamp and almost lit some newspapers on fire.
           The next day she didn’t move the newspapers and the place burned down, killing the mother. She was so guilty she could not eat or sleep. She refused to move into the new house with her husband and kids, became a nut case. The husband, talking to his brother about how bad she had gotten also said he was having extra stress dealing with it, because he had intentionally left his cigarette burning earlier the same day and he purposely caused the fire.
           That quip I just made about the movies is the reason I can’t go on trivia shows. They ask questions about who said what or directed what. To me, I could not care less, just whether or not it is a good movie. I’m reminded of that director, Steven Speilberg. He grew up around movie equipment and had produced films by the age of 12. It therefore makes me flabbergasted that his “talent” is so highly rated, especially since half his material is stereotyped rubbish. Really, midgets in teddy bear costumes? Aliens into jazz-rock fusion? Again I usually finish the book or movie first and then size up whether it is worthwhile finding out who created it. Most of the time it is not.
           Makes me wonder what I might have done had I access to cameras and film at such an early age and if he “had so goddam much energy” he had to go chop the firewood. So I am going to spend an evening watching DVDs, and I’m going to fast forward past any printing of any kind that clutters up my screen. Why, I’ll show them.
           Oh yes, a guy walking past today asked about Wallace. I was under the car so I didn’t chat, but he was well-dressed and looked a lot like Capt. Highliner. I told him to check back in a few weeks anyway. Right now, I have no word about when Wallace arrives.
           I’ve got nine or ten songs I can sing. This takes time, and for me it is an exponentially larger task than just adding the words. I’m not worried, I remember how complicated adding the low-hat seemed at first. I’ll put in the time, but right now my whole act has to be transfigured. I’m too busy for anything else, why right now in the cupboard I’ve got cat food but no soup. I want some kind of Italian soup with the tomatoes in it. One day I’ll look at all this and laugh.

March 21, 2009

           Look at the rain. The only time we get it this bad other than hurricanes is near the equinoxes. Flooding is commonplace because nary person in the department that builds roads has the brains to measure watercourses before they pave. In this case, the water is approximately six inches deep so I could not ride my bike through it. There is no shame attached to this brand of workmanship in Florida.
           I have no car since it floods around here as well and I need dry weather to affect the repair. In the shop, I looked into a variety of directions with new business. There are pawn shops advertising for used cellulars and people are scrounging for them. Obviously there is money in it. So I did a search on how to reprogram and resell used phones. As expected, there is not a single mention of it on the Internet, but thousands of offers to do it for me. Strange indeed how some people find out about these things where a dedicated two-hour search fails. I ask again, where is the street level school that allows all these dummies to learn such trades? Until a few years back, I thought tinkering with cell phones was illegal.
           It wasn’t all work today. Assuming I will get a few extra bucks together, I looked closely at the return fare from Wilmington and shaved about 30%. I can always go there and right back since I don’t mind the Greyhound. If I stopped in Savannah for two days, most of the trip would be in daylight, as departure is always mid-morning. The fare is down around $120; I may even consider more than a bare-bones motel. Downtown Savannah “the first planned city in America” seems to be dominated by hotels in the historic district. Advertised prices seem sitting duck low but I’ll check that out before long.
           By low prices, I mean hotels with good ratings stating $49.50 double occupancy on the ad. Remember how that Kentucky Microtel chiseled me in 1999. The definition of double occupancy also varies from state to state. There is some kind of art festival in Savannah for the next three weeks. I am tempted to take along my 21-speed. The bus line wants $10 extra. That is nothing compared to a single cab ride.
           The rain found me in the library hoping it would abate. It didn’t, so before I cranked home in the puddles, I read four hours of whatever. Ah, you want the trivia. Okay, the “Man from U.N.C.L.E”? “United Nations Committee for Law Enforcement.” Their opponent was THRUSH. What does THRUSH stand for? (For some reason it has no punctuation.) It is “Technological Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity”. This has since been shortened to “Homeland Security”.
           I also found out that diamonds will burn. Heat them to around 1500 F. and they turn into graphite. According to one Barbara Berliner, “a blowtorch will do the trick.” Must have been one hell of a divorce, there, Barb. I also read a chronology of the early 80’s to be reminded that is the year that the prime rate hit a record 21.5% and the average car sold for about $7,400. I wonder, what would a car loan of that amount cost over three years? I’ll assume prime plus 6.5%, or 28% APR. Total value of this deal, $10,586.38. It would be cruel to make a joke about how many Florida guitarists it would take to figure that out, so I won’t say anything.
           Since I was in the travel section, I read some of those 24/7 books. They are a series of photo stories where you could order custom book covers with any picture you want. They suggest your family Christmas pictures. (Why, so nobody will read it?) Like National Geographic, they manage time and again to publish 200 page books without even one picture of a young, sexy female. I read editions for Sweden and Argentina and saw nothing but babies and grandmothers. What are women so afraid of?
           Last, I viewed a video on a device that saves electrical power legally. It was the theory that intrigued me. Electric power only averages 115 Volts, it is actually full of spikes. Although your appliances cannot use these spikes, they are registered by your electric meter. The invention removes said spikes. The demo was remarkable, making me wonder how much better it would work in Florida, with one of the worst electric companies in existence. However, the seller carefully and pointedly never states (in the video or webpage) if the device hooked to your electric meter or whether you would need one for each appliance. Unsaid these days means covered up, and at $149 each, it is uneconomical to buy them by the crate. See www.plugandsave.com.

March 20, 2009

           The last day of winter. Teresa and I went to the Miami Grill for brunch. We dined outdoors and this is the view. It is a typical Florida landscape, there are no hills or valleys in the state (to speak of). Notice the yellow flowers and overcast sky, certain signs of the changing seasons. We polished up the plans for the trip a little, and I went into the shop to make preparations for my absence.
           Over the past couple days I have been getting telemarket calls on my cellular, so I traced one of the companies back to Ft. Lauderdale. I took the trouble to publish their full name, address and local phone number on the Internet, plus the same information on the registered owners of the company. They are screaming like little babies. It seems the calls at home are bothering them. Imagine that.
           Today’s trivia is telemarketing. There are not that many companies out there that cause all the misery and interrupted privacy, and the Feds fined some of the worst abusers. In this part of the world, that means “Coastal Vacations”. That outfit was running a fake “survey”, in which the fine print gave permission for the calls. The theory makes sense. Anybody stupid enough to give their phone number on a survey is also stupid enough to buy from a telemarketer.
           In a related incident, Verizon was awarded $1 million in damages. They sued a telemarketing company. Verizon isn’t doing you any favors, they sued because the robot used to make the calls (one every 0.36 seconds) tied up Verizon’s switching equipment. Don’t go thinking for even that split second that Verizon gives a hoot about the inconvenience they otherwise wholeheartedly sanction. Did you know if the Feds ever get around to banning spam, the Internet will be almost four times faster? Some say it will never happen, but they banned junk faxes, didn’t they?
           I think the fax ban only happened because the government has so many fax machines. I doubt it was in response to public pressure. April 1 is teabag day. Everybody who disagrees with the government bailing out losers is requested to mail a teabag to Washington. I think I’ll participate. This country needs another tea party. Government by representation does not work unless the representatives are held accountable. I do believe I have some stale orange pekoe they will really like.
           The car is still out of service. That radiator hose is a major repair. I suspect I will need a hoist to get at it properly. I had to miss my gig at Jimbo’s because of no way to get my equipment there and back. Failing the bicycle, I mean.
           Teresa found me a newspaper article where somebody else had written asking the same question I did—what does the “characters welcome” phrase mean during USA Network shows. Nobody seems to know. The response was vague, to the effect the network “celebrates distinctive, offbeat individuals”. Funny, I haven’t heard a peep out of them, much less anything bordering on celebration. So again, I was the first to ask a question that had no ready answer.
           Wallace writes that there was a foot of ice-water and snow in the back yard this week. His daughter is visiting this area and I hope she stays long enough to appreciate what is here. I would really like if she came to visit and look at this place so she would know what a great situation it is. For the first time this year, I had to turn on the air conditioning this evening. Wallace belongs here, I think, but he is still in recovery mode and the doctor knows best.
           Time for a “Sopranos” update. The series still moves fast enough to keep me uncritical. I’m starting season five (of eight) and read an article in www.mybeachfrontnews.com, at least up to the point where it began to tip me of on parts I haven’t seen. (I can’t find the author’s name, but he is an editor who refers to himself as “Boomer”.) The author makes the point that “Sopranos” can keep you watching scenes that would be boring in any other script. I thought he’s right because I actually watch the parts with the 30 year old hookers and the family arguments which would normally cause me appreciate the sincere reality of “The Simpsons”.

March 19, 2009

           Is that a ’67 Mustang? The car I never had. This one is for sale on Federal Hwy up on Taft, and it is in amazing condition. Old cars are a pain if you aren’t a mechanic. I’d still like to have something like this for a toy. This pic is through a fence so I could not get any closer or ask the price. The restoral job looks like factory original, and if I recall, the paint is an original color also. Pearle’s older sister, Phyllis, had a candy yellow model of this car. Pearle was my first. We used to sit in the car, ahem, listening to Neil Diamond tapes.
           It’s been a while since we’ve talked about doggie wigs. I got a call today and there may be some publicity you can view if interested. While nothing ever came of the CBC production, three American outfits have stepped in. There will be documentary styled programs on Animal Planet and Discovery Channel next month (estimated). Also, the great-grand-daddy of magazines has expressed interest in an article. Hello, National Geographic. (I wonder if they could use a few thousand words already written by the only author who totally knows the whole story?)
           My car problem is apparently the radiator hose. I squeezed under there and it is a tortuous contraption that flows around the front axle. Looking at it I see they had little choice once they decided to put the motor in sideways. I’ll have to get the car high enough up off the ground to crawl right in there. Say, doesn’t Carlos have jack stands?
           Next, how would you like a jaunt up to North Carolina and back? A round trip in a rental truck, and either a train or plane return. Teresa is pulling the pin and is moving back to the mountains. She needs a shift driver. Looks like that year I wasted working for Halliburton might pay off. I’d be gone two or three days. Even the cat won’t be a problem. I hate to lose a friend, but Teresa says Florida has not lived up to promises. Projected departure date is the 31st.
           Move that back to the 30th. It’s going to be load up the truck and head right out. It is a twelve hour drive. She has a mobile home in Cape Fear, so depending on finances I may have some time to look around the place. This is the perfect time of year to visit because summer can be an ordeal if you are not used to it. The Carolinas are in the sub-tropics and the coast line was originally settled by people from Barbados. The intention is to get there as quickly as possible in one long trip. Teresa wants to get me a plane ticket to return, but I’m negotiating a train or bus so I can see the countryside.
           I think it odd that at this nothing time of year, the Amtrak is sold out of coach seats right up to the second week of April. They want $178 for the one way, and the train leaves from Raleigh. My decision was no because the train leaves at 10:00 PM meaning I would miss all the scenery until back in Florida where there is nothing new for me to see. The Greyhound leaves at 10:00 AM, and for $132 it raises the possibility of spending a day or two in Savannah, which I would otherwise probably never visit. Website or not, it takes a damn half-hour to get the fare out of Greyhound, like it is some big secret. Both these companies have a convoluted fare structure full of discounts and age groups that probably costs more to administer than it is worth.
           Teresa and I went to Arty’s for a couple hours, kind of her going away party. The bartender says that notwithstanding the far higher sales when music is present, the owner (an 83 year old lady) does not want bands in there. She does not want to change the character of the place. I also discovered most bands that ever played there are also regular customers, which I am not. Too bad, because they are in a good central location on a major highway.

March 18, 2009

           Here is a better shot of that building I’ve said has impressed me. This is the front entrance, still in raw plaster, but you can see some of the original blue-colored trim. I talked to one of the workmen who confirms the building is apartments, not condos. You can make out the frame for the canopy and the yellow flowers on the tree. I told you it was Spring. I’m planning to take a look when I see the vacancy sign.
           Times must be bad, I ran into another program that requires Win 98. Are people keeping their junk that long? Almost as long as I keep my cars. And I have a radiator leak that I cannot find, hoping it is just a hose. This happened right when the first Spring rain came along and it is not fun trying to find a leak when everything is dripping wet. That’s the good news, that Spring arrived early this year. Global warming.
           I cornered a guy today who works on cell phones. He says it is not much more difficult than plugging an interface cable into a computer and watching what program boots. He resets the chip by either putting in the customer’s old number or getting a new one online from a list of what is available. If the customer wants service he acts as temporary agent for one of the existing carriers. I figured as much but in all these years have never seen anyone do it. Now you know why the sellers don’t let you watch them work.
           Here’s some trivia. I heard that the Taliban-type terrorist groups have a rule about cell phones. They buy them by the truckload and use them for only one call each, then toss them. Since they would only do that for security reasons, what do they know that we don’t?
I went over the ads for student housing again, remember I promised to check on that. I was right, students these days are able to borrow money to live in luxury unheard of in my time. When I was in school, you got rent, tuition and books. Even bus fare was extra. While I can’t compete with Jacuzzis and rec centers, our huge back room must have value to somebody. I mean, it has its own air conditioner, fridge, micro and bathroom.
           I’ll be thinking this week on what can be done to make that space productive. Maybe Wallace and I are not considering all the options. It has other qualities like being secure, dry and quiet. Remember Sonny, the guy who had that “office” three blocks west of here? He was paying $850 a month, it had no windows and it wasn’t half as nice as what we’ve got. All he did was come in twice a day, make phone calls and go sit in Ricki’s (restaurant) the rest of the time. I’m just saying.
           I don’t really need to waste another two paragraphs on the topic, but I’m now questioning why I keep pitying that old coot, the Hippie. Every time he is faced with a problem that requires brains, he tries to cover up his lack of education by turning into a miserable brat. It is a worn and tired act you’d expect from a child, like he’s been wronged and you just won’t listen. When he bought the laptop, I told him in person he had to turn on the antenna, and I even pointed right at the switch for him. I normally charge $45 for that service. I told him twice when he phoned since then, bitching at me, that all he had to do was turn on that antenna.
           Despite the finest help available, he (and his “computer expert” friends) repeatedly could not follow this simple instruction. Predictably, he resorted to hiding his ignorance by flinging around malicious accusations. He accused us of conspiring to sell him junk. When he brought it back to the shop (two friggin’ weeks later) crying like a baby, the switch was still off. Are we talking double-digit IQ here, or what?
           If this seems harsh, people, recall the old saying, “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” The blog is mightier than the guitar pick.

March 17, 2009

           Did you know Spain is trying to outlaw the siesta? Here’s a Florida denizen who’s been on siesta since midnight. I didn’t know that concrete parking curbs made good pillows. This is what happens when you don’t plan ahead and I have no mercy on those who refuse to. I just thought this shot was ironic because he’s got his bicycle and is crashing across the lane from some of the most expensive new cars made in America.
           I promised you some facts about LK (my abbreviation for “live Karaoke”). These days are tied up with getting the show working. Fred drove out to Clewiston (Clueless Town) on the weekend and saw an excellent show with backing tracks. I’d like to point out some facts of such an operation and why every show you’ll see except mine features a guitarist playing to the tracks.

           The musician must create or buy the tracks, often in midi format. This is either time-consuming or expensive. If not a musician, the jockey will purchase the song in Karaoke format. This is also expensive because songs are normally sold in albums where you have to buy the whole disk to get one good tune.
           For some reason, guitar music is the trickiest thing to get sounding right in Karaoke format. Thus, guitarists have an advantage in that they simply eliminate the existing guitar track, which probably sounds tacky, and play along. My show must leave the guitar track in place and I take out the bass track. This causes no end to the extra work I have to do and emphasizes my dislike for lead guitar which often drowns out the rhythm track I prefer to work with. It is guitarists that I have to compete against. I am lucky so many of them do the same thing ad nauseum.

           The entire production is dependent on generated computer sounds. This is where Arnel is helping me to replace the bad-sounding tracks with realistic instruments, also an expensive process because the better sounds are sold separately. Also, other shows that say live Karaoke generally leave a Karaoke machine running while the band is on a break, as opposed to making the audience an integral part of the show. As usual, this allows one show-off to dominate the microphone.
           My show lets everybody sing, as many as want to join in. This makes me less popular with the show-offs, but keeps my entire show novel enough for weekly repeat performances. Very few local musicians can boast that and I now know of several whose gigs were canceled because of their outdated material and presentation. I leave the vocals in, so you are actually singing along with the original artist but can see the lyrics in real time.

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March 16, 2009

           If you return tomorrow, I’ll give you some detailed information about the LK setup, seen here in my living room with just the playback portion of the operation. Computers and backing tracks are necessary for a decent show and only the fanatical purists cling to total live performances on a regular basis. I like live, but I cannot afford the hired help.
           Ah, you may say, information about my Karaoke is not very important. Yeah, but it is the biggest event of the day. I’ll make it up to you with some information about RFID (radio frequency ID chips) in a moment. I think the Karaoke problem is that the playback software I have is unique to the program, rather than using the computer’s built-in media player (in this case, PowerDVD). If that is the case, it is beyond my ability to fix. This did not stop me from performing twice over the weekend.
           Analysis of these performances brought one positive I particularly like. You see, I had to revert to my old format. Compared to the new show, the old show was like an easy game. That is what I meant a while back when I said I was giving myself a few months to get five years experience [playing as a soloist].
           I could do my old show in my sleep, which is good because I was able to concentrate on vocals, or more accurately, what is wrong with my vocals. Singing turns out to be difficult for me in terms besides memorizing lyrics and staying on key. For instance, I have pre-conceived notions of word meanings which come out wrong. (In “Secret Agent Man”, I would not normally say “Odds are” because I would say “Chances are”.) Another blooper is I’ll find myself standing still and not smiling on stage.
           I would like to point out that I did not receive a single complaint about my weak and second-rate singing. The people present would certainly have said something if I was not putting on a good show. You have no idea how much this has boosted morale. So much for the theory that singing has to be the focal point of a contemporary band.
           RFID is not my favorite and I have mean-mouthed the concept. This is where I make myself clear. It is not any particular technology that is bad, rather the way that technology is used. RFID has potential for hellacious evil and that is what I am against. Technology is not self-limiting to good usage. Any privacy guidelines to be used must be in place before a system becomes widespread. Right now, there are zero laws protecting the public from RFID abuse. We already have bar codes, a similar idea, but I would like to point out substantial differences.
           Bar codes can only be read one at a time, like at the supermarket checkout. The scanning process would be very difficult to conceal. And the barcode mechanism is based on a central database of dubious accuracy. These ensure bar codes remain primitive. On the other hand, RFID has none of these defects. The theory of RFID dates from the same time period, but because of cost it is not yet implemented. The “antennas” cost almost a dollar each today. By this time next year, Chinese production will bring that down to less than four cents apiece.
           Another factor is that bar codes are not standardized. RFID are totally standardized and will have a central authority at work to prevent duplicates. The fancy word for making sure all RFID codes are unique is to say they are “serialized”. As technology improves, there is no limit to how many of these chips can be read at once, but it is certainly in the millions per second. With cellular style coverage, everything in the world could be positioned within minutes.
           The major threat of RFID is covert scanning. There are several types of RFID chips but the one to worry about is the passive brand. The chip does nothing until it enters an interrogation zone. This means it becomes within the range of a transmitting signal at the correct frequency. Right now, this means line-of-sight or an uninterrupted direct path of around fifty feet maximum. The emitter beam causes the RFID chip to create backscatter, and this is what the detector reads. Unlike bar codes and their database, RFID chips themselves contain all the information needed and the scanners are very easily hidden.
           A good analogy of how this system will be abused is the Department of Motor Vehicles. This government department does nothing to ensure good driving standards, creates nothing beneficial, and if you have ever tried to get anything done down there, you will discover unrestrained bureaucratic corruption and inefficiency. It serves little purpose but to let the wrong people know where and who you are, and where you park your car at night. Now imagine an entire country being run that basis.
           Certainly another horrid example is credit reporting agencies. While they should be able to prevent bad risks from getting credit, should they also be allowed to prevent them from getting good jobs and low insurance rates? (I say no, because those usages are not spelled out on the credit application form, and even if they were, it is out of line to use data collected for one specific purpose for another unrelated purpose no matter what correlation may exist. Did you know the newest abuse by credit agencies is to scam the dead? Now that death certificates are published online, the bill collectors can move much faster. They contact the bereaved survivors who do not understand they are under no obligation and feed them a line about clearing the “good name” by paying off any of the corpse’s debts.)
           What I’m saying is every piece of information that can be abused will be, so allowing surreptitious collection is not to be viewed as simply the “logical” next phase of doing business. Companies say they need it to counter pilferage, but like all systems before, it will remain in place harming innocent people long after the criminals have moved on to other schemes.
           Mind you, RFID works like a radio and can be jammed. The frequency is 915 GHz.

March 15, 2009

           I’m certainly getting to the seashore a lot more often than I did with the local musicians. It is a pity the parking is so bad that a lot of people just don’t go there much anymore. This is prime tourist season and they are really hitting a fine stretch of weather. This view is looking ESE from the balcony at Toucans over the Broadwalk toward the Atlantic.
           No St. Patrick’s Day parade picture. I never made it. By noon I was still repairing gear when I got calls to appear on the beach and a 4:00 PM paid gig. Really, I had my heart set on seeing that parade. All my gear is set up here so I won’t have time. My bass cut out on stage after I thought I’d fixed the jack. (We finished playing the song, faking it all the way, proving again this show is far from music only.) That’s the part that Teresa is finding so amusing, and understands why I originally thought she could be playing rhythm guitar by now. It turns out she gets stage fright, something she forgot to mention until after her guitar lesson. Women.
           It took nearly an hour to go to the beach and back, a total of just under three miles. Mostly bad traffic and drawbridges. Every third set of plates is from Quebec, with that slogan “Je me souviens” or something similar that nobody knows what it means. The party was a birthday for Pat up at Jimbos, and they had around 50 pounds of food, all of which I could not touch. I didn’t get the call until after I had already made a huge breakfast (French toast with all the trimmings.) Too bad I missed it, they had cabbage rolls.
           Speaking of diets, Pudding-Tat is going to have to go on rations. According to the vet chart, she is getting too much. I know even well-fed cats whine like they are starving but I have to learn it is an instinct, not hunger. I feel sympathy but I’m going to have to view it like these stories you hear of people who are a hundred pounds overweight but feel famished all the time. Trivia for today, I learned that cats cannot taste anything sweet. They don’t have the correct type of taste buds. So now explain all those cat treats for sale at the pet store.
           I’m into another book of short mystery stories, this time about a troupe of actors who are also smugglers. Everybody should read plenty of these tales before deciding to write. They expose the predictable aspects of mediocre writing, and while a large part of writing is necessarily repetitious, there are things new authors should avoid. There is no reference list so it all has to be learned the hard way. Mystery writing lets the reader examine how a variety of authors have dealt with cranking out material. Some stories I read are so cheesy it hurts, especially the versions of how the cops operate. You almost want to tell these people that television is probably not a good place to get your notions.
           I’d like to record another fact. Electricity is an expensive utility in Florida. There is no real basis for comparison such as square-footage because many buildings are poorly insulated. I did identify a trend that is useful. Electric costs around $2 per day per person in the winter, and $2.50 per person per day in the summer. I don’t think enough people factor in this cost because every time I go to pay the bill, the clerk asks if I want to pay all of it, duh.
           This last month my electric was $58 despite being careful. I have not used the air-conditioner in over a month. FPL raised the prices when gas was expensive a year back and did not lower it afterward, a trick so old for a moment there I thought I was in Canada.
           A progress report on “The Sopranos”. I’m beginning season four and the authors have kept up the momentum and character development. No doubt watching the series again and again would reveal plenty of missed items. Too bad it is only coincidence I have time between when I started and the 23rd of this month to finish as much as I can. One disturbingly realistic aspect is how well the authors portray the police as cause of own misery. One side blackmails, the other side plea bargains. Don’t whine that your enemy operates undercover when you are doing the same. Quite the series, you should watch it.

March 14, 2009

           Flower pictures usually mean a slow day. Here is a cheerful rose-like flower from the north end of Forest Wally, telling us Spring is on the way. Around here, slow does not mean nothing to do, it just means nothing happened on the Richter scale and the blog rules mean you still get a report of the most superlative of anything that happens. Things like Pudding-Tat eating frog’s legs and my new table saw. To those who find this boring, remember, I haven’t read your blog to compare, know what I’m saying?
           There are two six-foot long glass display cases under the counter at the shop. Right now there are some components for sale, stuff that hasn’t moved in years. I spent most of mid-day researching devices that I think may move faster. These are the counter-surveillance tools I’ve been talking about lately.
           One of the more interesting items is called a Cobra. It looks exactly like a flash drive, but contains a program. You plug it into your employee’s, wife’s or kid’s computer and in 15 seconds it installs an undetectable spyware script. Then you remove the drive and walk away. Whenever the computer goes on the Internet, it captures a screen shot every 10 seconds. The next day, you plug in again and it loads up to 8,000 pictures of everything they looked at. You then take the drive out, and examine the pictures on another computer. What is something like that worth to you? My guess is you’d give me $75 for it.
           I drove to Jimbos and dismantled my music gear. This week everything gets an overhaul. Music dominates this month again. My guitar jack has been crackling or cutting out and I must eliminate the drum track problems. Arnel says he’ll come over to help if need be. That reminds me, you get a progress report on other musicians that are not in the loop. Big Jim has a new duo and is playing at Rip Tide, but is predictably running out of material. (This is a bigger problem than some folks seem to realize.)
           Teresa and I went to the beach for a couple hours and to see Arnel’s show. The water was ice-cold. The Hippie called to say he had a gig somewhere in the middle of the Everglades. I considered it until he said he didn’t know the address but wanted me to look it up on his computer. Ah, the computer he bought that he doesn’t know how to get on-line? Um, that’s a call out. You don’t phone somebody three hours before the start of an out-of-town gig without an ulterior motive. [Author's note: During this same conversation I specifically told him to turn on the computer's antenna. He said no because his "expert" friend said that wasn't the problem. Turns out it was.]
           So Teresa and I stopped by at Arty’s, now knowing that Jim isn’t playing there. I counted 21 people, which is more than my quota. I have an appointment to see the owner about playing there next Saturday. We stayed for nearly an hour, during which time Teresa ordered the daily special. Frog’s legs. She found them rather tasteless but later my cat dined in style.
           Teresa is finding it amusing to see the logistics behind these music shows. (Come to think of it, I know a few musicians who could stand to learn more about how to do things right.) Like most people, she never much thought about the presentations beyond their immediate effect. For example, those queue cards Arnel uses, like the one that says “Everybody Clap Your Hands”. The next card says “Everybody Wash Your Hands”. This came from a concert he played in Brazil many years ago. He had to ask a girl how to say “Clap Your Hands” in Portuguese. One thing led to another and today he can get the crowd roaring by merely holding up a “For Rent” sign.
           My task is to figure out ways to adapt the same idea to the two Karaoke monitors I plan to have on stage. Arnel and I have still not coordinated the versions and lyrics part of our shows, but when we do, it will cut the amount of duplicated effort in half. I’ve even toyed with putting Dragon on stage—remember my monitors emulate a cheap Karaoke TV screen, in reality they are really full-fledged digital computer plasma displays.
[Author’s note: Dragon refers to the application “Dragon Naturally Speaking”, which produces typed text to the spoken word. I would design some type of comic routine where what I say on the microphone appears on the Karaoke monitors in real time. Imagine me turning off the speakers and saying, “Can you hear me?” and having it flash instantly on screen. Music for the deaf?
           This will be very difficult for anyone to copy even if they figure it out. You see, Dragon has to be painstakingly “trained” by each user speaking displayed words, meaning those words have to be entered in advance. By golly, I have access to over one million words right here alone. As luck would have it, the enunciation of my own material is, you guessed it, absolutely perfect. And then some.]
           Fred and I loaded up the table saw he found me. The top is rusty and it needs a new gear box. It is an American brand (Delta) so there is a good chance the parts are replaceable. When I can get to it is another story, because Saturday, March 14, 2009 is an example of a slow day around here.