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Yesteryear

Saturday, September 11, 2010

September 11, 2010

           It was a little cooler, nice bike riding weather if you can keep moving. Usually, you can’t as this town rivals LA for dickweed drivers. There is always one straggler and one speeder to ensure there is no natural break in the traffic between lights. One does not have to be racially prejudiced to notice it is always some third world national sucking on a milkshake and talking on a cell phone. As Dave Barry said, they are free to practice the driving habits of their country of origin.
           So the heat was a little cooler and I wound up in the library. The computer room has 24 Dells and no games permitted. They have games in a separate teen section. It is easy for the seasoned user to glance around to notice who is working and who is surfing. Around 90% are using the system for twitting and other social entertainments.
           Here's a not I did not originally publish on this date. It is a map of Yemen, where the US closed it's embassy earlier this year. We run like chickens whenever there is any real danger in a place that might actually need an embassy. What I get from this is that border with Saudi. Yemen has three times the population, about 21 million. And most of those make less than $900 per year. How long does anybody think that is going to continue?
           So you’ll know, to use the library computer, you step up to the reservation desk and scan in your library card. Enter your name. A ticket prints out with your designated computer and wait time, average 30 minutes. You must log on to the computer within five minutes of indicated start time or lose your place. You have one hour on the computer although if it is not busy, the system will grant you up to two 15 minutes extensions. You can make only two reservations per day. I have not tested to see if I can log on at a different library in the same county.

           Bingo was a resounding success, with a few new faces. One fellow came up with a suggestion I must pursue. His sister works in a chain of government-sanctioned retirement communities a.k.a old folk’s homes. He reports that they are required by their articles to meet a certain minimum level of entertainment determined by budget and frequency. Further, they are sometimes pressed to find suitable acts and are forced to overspend. So the question remains, is bingo a suitable act? Mine is.
           Jackie and I walked up to Boston Johnny’s afterward, but didn’t stay. They had a rock band, one of those trios trying to make a go of it. Sounded like it, too. Tourist season is arriving but make no mistake about it, the heyday is over. The crowds have been chased away by ridiculous behavior. Two dollar an hour parking and two hundred dollar fines for walking your dog on the Broadwalk where no signs say you can’t. Even a full return would take probably ten years to restore any hint of prosperity to the area.
           Pat-B and I have established email correspondence and are just this far away from ironing out some kind of performing arrangement. Neither [of us] will get the ideal band, but nor would we have to pursue a fraction of the effort over it. I believe we have already made the psychological compromise where he plays ten country tunes and I play ten slow or blues, then we’ll be playing out a couple times per week.
           Trivia. Who remembers EMP? This is the electromagnetic pulse caused by nuclear explosions. It disables electronics. Gee, does that mean if the light is on you can’t turn it off? Anyway, our tax dollars have produced artificial EMP. Using a massive version of the microwave oven and data from simulated detonations, we can blast the transistors of whomever tries to attack us with computers. Too bad EMP does work on vacuum tubes, the more likely possibility from what is left of the world. They still use vacuum tubes.

           911. A moment’s silence for the victims and a seething question for the politicians, “What have you done to make them hate us so?” Yes, you, the political creatures out there. Not me or any other ordinary American. You, the politician. That’s who is to blame for this mess.

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