January 1, 2010

           I headed promptly over to the Barn after my morning callout. That means some editorial on what’s new and a little trivia on dispersed subjects. I mean new in the sense of useful or novel, not merely new. Like that guy who juggles iron cannonballs. Technically, he’s only lifting two at a time, I think. Anyway, a day of relaxation. The bookstore was packed and a good ratio of those were noisy, chatty, housewives. Maybe it is me, but keep it quiet in a bookstore, you dumb broads.
           One thing I can’t delay much longer is the new drum box. I need to start programming it now for shows that arrive in March. I remind all I am not in the same league as those who take the machine out of the box and find the preset rhythms that are least offensive. I call those people the “ticky-bop” crowd, and no wonder most of them hate beat boxes. They are too dumb to work them correctly, no names mentioned.
           At the other extreme, I went so far as to take six months of drum lessons from the best (Bert Gunther) just so I could distinguish beats and kits. When I bought my first machine (a $400 Dr. Rhythm), I was instantly disappointed in the technology. All beat machines are junk, using mind-numbing channel technology to “build up” sound tracks. Might as well learn to play drums, in most cases it’s easier.
           Making my day, Marion called from Colorado. She had an extra quiet Xmas, with family visiting from up north. Her youngest son is now 18, he’s the one who bought his older brother a $10 lottery ticket that won $100,000. So you’ll know, due to very powerful influence from all of us, he bought a car, but still has the majority of the money invested. Marion and I went over every aspect of our existences in 45 minutes, agreeing that I must go to Colorado sometime this summer.
           I was researching investments at the bookstore. If I ever had faith in traditional strategies, I was lying to myself. I see the massive devaluation [of American dollars] gathering momentum. As I delve deeper, gold keeps beckoning as the only safe “store of value”. Other metals fare better, such as platinum, but are not commonly accepted as currency, nor always saleable any time as with gold. Historically, I deal with one-ounce ingots rather than coins, and should I re-enter the market, I’ll stick with the plan.
           Mind you, platinum is fascinating. Very little of it is recycled, so annual supply rises to meet demand. It also makes damn fine jewelry, most people have never seen what I have, and Egyptian importer once let me wear a platinum ring worth $110,000 wholesale. I’ve never seen anything like it since, just larger and gaudier things in that price range.
           To the untrained eye, it looks like I have a little gadget in my hands today. Let’s look at it from a different perspective, shall we? This is an old Magic Jack. Why is this one different? Take a seat, let’s go over that. My client used this since it was new, each year renewing his service for $20. I had installed the original for him. This year, he asked me to install a new one. Why?
           Because Magic Jack told him he had to. Really? They also told him the old one would not work and he had to replace it. Is that so? Are you getting as suspicious as I am? What do you mean, it won’t work. It worked fine. They told him they would not “reactivate” that unit. Whoa, Magic Jack, this whole thing is starting to smell bad. What could it be? Experience tells us the top three possibilities are:

The unit has a defect that allows it to be used for free, or to bypass something they are trying to recall.

The unit is untraceable, and they’ve been ordered by the authorities to stop that.

When configured improperly, the unit has some capability they would rather not become well-known.

As I said, it is in my hands, and I’m about to commence researching. Last, who recalls that computer solitaire game “Cruel”? I finally gave it a whirl today. Quite the challenge. Between that and Magic Jack, let’s see what I come up with.