[Author’s note: a shredder is a guitar player who, instead of chording like he is supposed to, keeps riffing off on a continual distortion-driver lead solo. A 1970s type of guy. The ones who copy everything and invent nothing. They’re everywhere. I don’t know the guy, but I quickly picked up on his “bassists are nobody without lead players” attitude.] I could not get it together today. You’ve had such days, this was mine. It was like being off balance and I suspect it was from the overnight rainstorm keeping me awake half the night. It has been raining for close to 24 hours already (by late evening). This morning I drove over to see this new computer of Lance’s. Don’t worry, my work on a computer is not thrown off just by having a bad day.
It is one of the Aspire units I was reading in the ads a month ago. They are an excellent $200 computer that does the job if all you do is surf and email. It is a compact unit around the size of a box of chocolates, covered with USB ports, video outputs, and all manner of peripheral jacks. Loaded with Win XP Home, I had not trouble getting the thing working in an hour or two.
Gee, don’t these things work right out of the box? No. Most of the useful software is trial versions, including the McAffee anti-virus and Office 2007. The anti-virus has to be set up and all your (non-Windows) browsers and drivers downloaded and configured. Plus, I took the time to show Lance how to get pictures of his digital camera. Don’t blame the camera users, I have yet to see a decent camera manual that spells out the transfer procedure in readable form.
Lance put a bottle of South Africa wine into the bargain. A blend of four grapes, which I am certain is great wine. But unless some special occasion comes along, I am just not a wine person. I have to admit, they make the kitchen look classy. One day soon, I’ll have cause to celebrate. My guess is once Lance gets used to the new computer, he’ll like it. These have no optical drive or monitor, but come with a laser mouse and 78% chiclet keyboard.
On the way home, the roadways past Aventure were badly flooded, so the Taurus knew its way to Barnes & Noble. I read some Arduino books over a cup of really bad coffee. I didn’t stay, for some reason I could not shake the intense tiredness and disorientation, I’m beginning to suspect my new prescriptions. The store was crowded like the old days but that can also mean undisciplined brats running up and down the aisles. And you should have seen their children.
One item that disgusted me and pretty much everyone within earshot was these two hefty 30-somethings, noisily reading movie rags at the magazine rack. “Look how skinny she was. She looks so much better now that she put on weight to play [insert fat broad role here].” On they went.
I finally got up and walked to the other end of the building. The other day I was asked the difference between knowledge and gossip. Wish I’d recorded those two. Middle aged and the only damn thing they could focus their minds on was whether some other woman they’ll never associate with had an “eyebrow lift”. Yep, that’s really the kind of knowledge that will help mankind get to Mars; women whose biggest dream in life is getting paid to gain weight.
Theresa left a book on the counter, which I am now reading. “Get Shorty”. Since I haven’t seen the movie, I don’t know if this is even the same story. About a loan shark who gets into the movies, sort of the theme you’d expect from a desperate hack writer. How convenient that every person he knows on this case has the right character to play some role. Chili, the hero, just arrived in town but already every woman he’s met used to shacked up with some famous actor, producer or director. And, as luck would have it, in the same order they would appear on the screen credits.
The water is standing a foot deep in many places. Make that two feet on the road south of here. Most cars make it around halfway through that puddle. It must be fun to stall and watch the water seep in the car doors. There was no chance of getting anything done, even the Spring air is soggy.
[It is] time to learn some bar tunes. While I am a lounge musician, I have to face the fact that most guitarists I’ll ever meet in Florida are saloon-grade. I pick “Sister Golden Hair”, “Keep Your Hat On” and “I Love This Bar”. I forget who does the sister song, but it remember it was almost banned because of the reference to, as it was then known, “living in sin”. I have nothing against living in sin, though I do have issues with women who do it and later claim they are single. (Just met too many of them, I guess.)
As for Joe Cocker, well, he always was far too old to be a teenager.
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