These are exciting times, spoken by a non-TV watcher. Does that mean I don’t know what I’m missing? What’s middle age without Superman reruns and the ugliest Lois Lane they could find. I’d rather look at Eve Teschmacher or whatever her name was. Lex Luthor’s babe. By exciting, I mean my hobby and Miss Teschmacher.
By noon I had six hours of puttering fully accomplished. Here is my perfboard with some sample layouts of LEDs. This is just a preliminary to discover how much space things really take. The smaller lights would, of course, provide a higher density but they may cost more than the larger 5mm type on the right. There are ICs (integrated circuits) to control matrices but at this point I would rather try to master the construction.I had got up early to listen to the neighbor pounding around his place with a hammer. It is the sound of him moving back to Canada, so I decided to fine tune my signature Experiment 019. I don’t trust the C language. Sure enough, I discovered that in its wait state, the code keeps issuing two values, a negative 1 and a negative 49. This is so stereotypical of the bastard rat mentality of C that I will not say what I want to about it right now.
Furthermore, there seems to be no way to prevent this spurious action. C is full of these types of quirk. The code apparently works, but in the background, all manner of potential trouble is brewing. The C language stinks and it always will. I was able to get a piezo speaker to play “Twinkle Twinkle”, although I do not understand all the code. My goal was to generate tone, which I did.
The next step is to see if I can step those tones up to around 32,000 Hz. Since I have no equipment to monitor such frequencies, I’ll have to devise an alternate method of detection. The neighbor’s incessantly barking poodle-cross comes to mind. I just knew there was a reason I kept that 150 Watt Hartke power head, oh yeah.
I spent six hours on the shed, it remains comfortable even at 92 degrees outside. It means I got plenty done today. Dave-O came by to treat me to a burner and apple pie, it’s great he’s got an appetite again. He helped me finish some wiring. It was so nice outside I canceled the planned trip to Coral Gables. I am almost finished throwing out every last item I don’t use regularly. That takes a little getting over for me. So this time it is like Spring cleaning.
The annual statement from my old company arrived this week. It is tempting to start collecting right away, but I’m still of the opinion it is best to tough it out until things maximize in another 18 months. It’s not an easy choice, I could really live well now, but I hear of so many people running into weeds at the end. The dollar difference between the two dates is just $168 per month. But with creative financing, that’s a car payment these days. History says that little extra will eventually mean the difference between steak and spam.
There was a documentary on the tsunami in Japan. I did not know that the weight of those tons of water depressed the coastal areas, lowering their sea walls by up to three feet. I never thought of that factor, it must have been discovered by satellite. My studies of Antarctica taught that the glaciers do the same but I guess I was thinking all this took many years. I’d say you learn something every day but I know so many people who don’t.
Carefully reviewing my new diet, I see that olive oil is permitted. Does that mean I can deep fry in it? Can it be heated like corn oil? Not a word in any of my cookbooks and other sources say it is used like a dressing. What say we buy a jar of it this week and see what happens? It costs twice as much as vegetable oil and I never cared for the flavor. Funny, I don’t ever recall anyone using olive oil for deep frying. Will I lose sleep over this? These are exciting times.
I found out why Dave-O does not eat herring. Turns out he’s got a similar condition to Wallace. (Did you know Wallace was a Middle East expert who knows what them thieving Jews are really, really, really up to?) Well, guys like Dave-O, his relatives did not just work at the Panama Canal, they built it. And the reason you don’t know the truth is your unnatural tendency to believe everything you read in Time Magazine and them damn encyclopedias.
Well, one of Dave-O’s relatives didn’t just work on a fishing boat, he was Grand Admiral of the Fleet and I’ll just bet you his sixteen year old nephew was a chess champion, as well. One day the Admiral swallowed a fish bone which cut him through the throat and disappeared into his system. It baffled all the top medical minds of his day, even exploratory surgery was futile. But it came out in the end. Wrecked ‘im? Damn near killed ‘im!
And that is the gospel why Dave-O doesn’t eat herring. Well that, and the fact he admits he cannot cook worth a dang and we suppose, neither could the Admiral, who, by the hear tell, ate his beluga raw. I got this all from the fish’s mouth. By comparison (to Dave-O), my relations are merely a pack of unskilled laborers who by sheer chance alone just happen to know everything you do.
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