Is it noon already? Great, because I just finished the newspaper. I am computerless except for this notebook which has fifty weird operating characteristics I'll never get used to. Is it Vista or the computer that every few minutes moves the cursor from where you left it to some random location in your document? Here's a photo of the scooter and a Porsche. A dirty, fume-vomiting Porsche. With Florida plates/tags.
I'll think about that relaxing over coffee at the bookstore a short while from now. Again, my new place shows it remains cool even during the hottest part of the days, mind you, summer isn't here yet. I've had to use the A/C less than eight hours total, and only then because I insist on reading in total comfort.Anything is better than being cold half the time. I recall one Spring up north when it warmed up just enough to go outside in a winter jacket. Myself, Dan Umbach and Len Morrison were often amazed by how clear the stars are in the prairie sky when, in the light of a streetlamp, we saw a rat scurry across main street. The local law said you had to report such things so we cornered it by a wall near the movie theater. While Dan went for the cops, Len and I kept it from getting away.
You see, Len was owner of the local pizza parlor. He used a stick to slap the rat every time it tried to run. I used my heavy boots to keep it back. The police finally showed up and said it was nothing but a small type of local muskrat that migrated through town every Spring. We had a good laugh, at least until Len showed us he had run into the hotel and brought back his expensive pizza canoe paddle, now broken and cracked in five places. That's what he was hitting the muskrat with. To this day, he still thinks Dan and I owe him a new paddle.
From time to time, I think about the cold. I know some find it refreshing and invigorating, but I can't help suspect that is because they've never lived in a balmy climate. At the opposite extreme, Florida is punishingly hot in the summer and only air conditioning makes it habitable. Maybe it is dumb to rely on a machine for your comfort, but isn't a furnace a machine? Anyway, if it ever gets too hot, I can move to, well, anywhere I want to move now.
But I intend to stay right here until reserves are built up, although remember that I calculate my reserves in equivalent dollars, not by looking at my bank account. In my system, similar to what oil companies use, a dollar in the bank is worth nothing because it is not current period income. This reserve is a cute formula used because while the oil people don't know what the price will be in the future, they do know to the penny what it historically costs them to get the crude up, refined, and into your gas tank.
Since it isn't busy, I'll use the oil company formula to calculate my own reserve, careful not to confuse reserve with cash or any real value, only what the equivalent amount I would have to invest to make the same long-term (seven business cycles, or forty-nine year) investments that pay the same. For example, how much would Joe Consumer need to invest to fill his SUV tank once a month "for free" because he invested in the means of productio? He would need $17,745.80. That, incidentally, is the minimum amount Joe has to spend on gasoline every 49 years to keep the petroleum companies in business. Likely, he will spend much more.
This is not as hare-brained as it sounds, but it only works for large companies. Let me apply their optimistic formula to my income to figure my reserves. Hint, you can also use this same formula to calculate what your job is worth, in fact, it was influential in my accepting a company buyout package back in '96. I knew it was a good offer. According to Exxon, if I was an oil company, I would be worth a whopping $161,630.70 right now.
Of course, neither I or Exxon could liquidate for that full amount, but you get the idea. In the end, the big reserves always win out and that is how you bet your money. If living well is the best revenge, it won't be long before I'm back in the saddle. True, I had a rough few years, though I told the world in writing I would come bouncing back. Now thanks to big-mouth Patsie, I don't owe anyone in the world a single favor. She destroyed the plan whereby right now, Wallace could have been living free the rest of his life. What a swell daughter she turned out to be.
This virtual reserve is also a reason I don't fear deflation--it would make anyone with a fixed income instantly wealthier, at least for a while. Deflation would not necessarily help a worker, as eventually what he was producing would not sell for enough to pay for his labor. The concept here is that all inflation and deflation formulas overlook the human fact that sooner or later, every person finally buys all the things they need and thereafter spend much less.
Up to the bookstore for six hours of study, coffee, and no pretty women. I conclude that the LED experiments I've done have sidetracked me from my goal of learning robotics. The challenge was the programming, for the circuitry is nowhere near as complicated as it appears in my photos. There are gaps in the fundamentals that I will now go back and learn, this time with the confidence I can do it right.
I plan a series of simple experiments working with basic test equipment to find out parameters I don't fathom now. For instance, I know certain components produce predictable effects, but can I see them with my naked eye? Or do I need a meter? Are the results safe on a workbench? Can the parts survive a drop to the floor? What is expensive? I need this practical experience, for when programmers without a lick of any worldly common sense you get things like Betamax, Quickbooks and Three Mile Island.
Friday's musical event has been analyzed. I purposely did not record any of it, for I know it was the right thing to do. I had detected elements of doubt that I could do the bass solo show, which is natural, but that doubt has now been firmly removed. I sang 40% of the tunes myself, which says get moving or get left behind.
Our predicted two hours of music lasted only one hour and thirty-one minutes. I forgot to allow that I've arranged the song lists to minimize button-pressing on the Zoom drum box, saving up to 90 seconds between each tune. We need five new tunes a week for the next four weeks and I intend to use the Friday show as incentive.
I've rewritten the bass line to Cline's "Walkin' After Midnight" to throw out all the unnecessary jazz chords and it is now a winner. My second target for resurrection is Twitty doing "Make Believe" which I can just manage changed to the key of G. I insist on doing one "polka" (2/2 timing) and because I am determined to keep it refreshing, have selected "Don't Let The Stars Get In Your Eyes" rather than anything that sounds like a German tuba arrangement.
Incidentally, the lack of pictures recently is due to Microsoft. They have disabled the editing commands on their trial versions of Office 2007.
