DAY
I’m finished “Contents Under Pressure”. It is a cycle of good guy bad guy cops of surprising reality probably due to being based on actual events. Her perspective on police behavior is strongly that of someone on the inside looking out. For example, she never investigates or reports on spectacular arrests intended to intimidate and embarrass the accused. An above average book of its category, I can recommend it.
Via the protagonist, Buchanan most realistically describes how there are no good men left. Although she does not reveal her source, she doesn’t have to. Her picture is on the back cover. One more annoyance is her repeated descriptions of sex between people well past thirty. We all know it happens but could it wait until after breakfast? And Edna, if it can wait that long . . .
For those who’ve noticed, I’ve recorded the weather lately. It has to do, as I said, with the calibration of a transistor. Today was justification for that, I have an array of thermometers, alcohol, mercury and aneroid, all showing differing readings, ranging from 31.5F to 47.1F standing beside each other. None were made in China. Am I the only one who knows such discrepancies could mean life or death? Not me, but like, at the South Pole. Where even Santa can't help you? Somebody will eventually sue, which is the only way to get manufacturers to up their standards.
Cold also makes me grumpy until I get warm. Last night was the record cold spell since 1984. I’ve been searching for a technical school that will teach me to solder and etch circuit boards. None will do it unless I take out a student loan and enroll in an expensive degreed program. Once again, it is time to send the Feds a list.
Using Continuing Education funds to bait and switch is illegal. The scam is simple, they place ads in local papers offering $40 courses. You’ve seen these ads for things like Introductory Spanish or Beginners Photography. They will not give you any information on the phone. Remember what that sick-o Broward Community college tried to pull on me back in 2002.
They insist you come in, then insist you fill out an enrollment form, then sic a commission salesman on you to insult you into signing up for a bachelors degree. I balked at the enrollment form which asked for credit information that was none of their business. The oily bastards tried the old, “How can we help you if you aren’t willing to help us?” Simple, tell me what I want to know about the course. I didn’t ask for help. Are you listening, ATI Career Institute?
It was below freezing this morning, nothing of the kind has happened in South Florida in decades. The official temperature was above the frost point but there was a layer of ice on the bird bath at dawn. Rather than rough it, I went to Nicki’s, where once again the $1.50 so-called breakfast special lacks a coffee, which brings the tab to $3.80. They consistently hand you a dollar and two dimes change for you to decide the tip, gee, well twenty cents isn't enough, but a buck is too much. (I always carry change of my own for just such operations). The worst part is they seem to think that is clever. (I dubbed it “$3.75 pricing” in Los Angeles back in the 80s.)
NIGHT
The noisy nearby conversation was again a reminder that those people and I have nothing in common. I’m aware of the same issues in this life, but they don’t obsess me. I had enough infantile gibberish by the time I was ten. I’m not saying right or wrong, just enough. Plus, the way such persons talk, you can tell they’ve made a habit of getting in other people’s way and are complaining about the reaction.
They arrange their affairs like my brother, not technically doing anything wrong or illegal, but to the maximum inconvenience of those around them. It’s a form of peasant blackmail, if you let them be your friend and include them in what you’re doing, they’ll stop being an azzhole. Yeah, right.
I downloaded all possible music and lyrics from what Staci liked. Now we must figure out how to get together on the material. She had no shared setup (PA system) of any kind while I was there. On the way home, I reconfirmed that New Year’s is my gig at Jimbos. There was some talk that others were interested, but none of them have anything like the full six plus hours of non-repeat material that I do.
And another thing, there is talk that the government is considering legislation to make it illegal to write the return address on the back of the envelope. (Would they dare do such a thing?) If so, you don’t have to be Albert Frankenstein to figure out they are "photocopying" (scanning with OCR) your mail. If you think about it, a database of who knows who would indeed be a handy thing to have kicking around when the trouble begins. It worked in Russia. For a while.
Bowing to the instant pressure, here is the photo of Buchanan from the dust jacket. Hey, I never said she was either pretty or not pretty. I believe I once met and talked to her eight years ago at Soyka’s, a lounge on Biscayne in Miami. She was with someone and was sitting next to me at the counter while waiting for a table. But I don’t know this person and she is not my type. Besides, there are no good women left.
59.6/30.12/77.7
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