Here's a wooden frying pan. Who remembers alumina anemia, the anti-gravity frying pan? (As the pan ages, it gets lighter and tips back on the handle when empty.) I have received plenty of input from housewives who know exactly what I’m talking about, so there. Several have informed me of their solution, which is to prop the frying pan handle up with a salt shaker. Careful, I am told, to “place the shaker at the terminus of the handle, not ‘neath the fulcrum or crotch, but so as to form a third class lever”. Yeah, well if she’s that smart how come she’s a housewife? Don’t go there.
My recent mention of non-Internet home business ideas also generated a lot of email. This is my reply to all: go to your library and get a book on the subject, it will tell you everything I can and more. I am not suggesting anyone resort to cutting up their old clothes to sell as potholders, shine shoes, or sell homemade fudge door-to-door. But I am saying if you wind up that way it is your own fault and not anybody else’s. I didn’t see you next to me in evening school while times were good. But I’ll tell you how I once made $310 in one day. A friend of mine had a table at the flea market. So I painted up a bunch of chipped up old bricks with yellow paint and sold them as “Fort Knox Rejects”, a novelty door stop. Did I ever tell you how I once had a real 400 oz. silver brick as a doorstop? That was at the same college house where if I wanted to put money for safekeeping, I just hid it in a dictionary.
I re-read my post for May 16, 2006. The trivia that day was about pseudonyms. Do you know there is a lobby for outlawing writing aliases? That is correct, there is a concerted movement in Washington to prevent people from publishing books under anything except their own legal name. Credit collection agencies are behind it. What does that tell you? Remind me to investigate how far they’ve gotten. What I have against such laws is understandable: The innocent would suffer as much as the guilty.
We’ve got a typical situation at the shop. Guy walks in, buys a computer. He is informed it is used, no return policy, sold as is only. Takes it home and sure enough, some kid tells him it is an “old” computer and not “fast” enough. Like, what computer is ever fast enough for a brat? The customer does not know how to operate the computer and thinks we are obligated to teach him how. When informed that was not possible, he invents problems thinking he’ll learn how to use the computer by watching us check for what is wrong.
Flashback to Jeanie, the lady guitarist singer that came over for a practice a few years ago? Who should I run into on the way home last evening? This is the lady who sang at the chocolate place on Hollywood, the lady who likes dreadfully slow ballads. She is now, what’s the word, super-sized? One thing for sure, she seems to have learned a lot about the difficulty of keeping a band together. We had chat and she wrote out her song list. I’d like to look up what I had to say the other time we met, but my records of those days were the old TMOS format (each entry spans a week, making searches tedious). A search finds only the file, not the keyword, way to go MS.
Jeanie was last around this time 2006. We got along well enough, but she still wants to form a quartet, something I won’t do unless there is at least some chance of steady money for the effort involved. She knows all the garage bands in town. She is still uncomfortable with the fact that talent by itself is not enough. I’ll give her a call later and see if she is more amenable to reality these days. We would make a deadly country duo. Now that she is shaped more like Dolly Parton. BWAAA-ha-ha-ha.
I had been checking, by invitation (Alex), the Wednesday night venues downtown. I need a 30% ratio of women for my act to deliver the wow. That is rare in Florida. Thus, I met Jeanie by fluke. I normally don’t go in to the Octopus because the place gives me “the drunken sneezes”. I get them without the benefit a drink so I only walked in because there was a live band. Frankly, I didn’t even recognize her until she clued me up and I still had to look twice.
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