I couldn’t get interested in a thing all day. Those nagging rain squalls have been circling peninsula for weeks now, never really settling into Winter. What am I supposed to do? Can’t go to the Diplomat in the rain, although after this weekend I certainly can any time I feel like it. I’ve read every good book in the house again and been through the library surplus racks so many times I’ve already got anything worthwhile.I’ve rigged up my good old GG DVD player, it still works fine. It has outlasted everything by Sony, Toshiba or Sharp. The odd time it rejects a disk, but I blame the disk. That’s because I’ll be watching movies again, another five day rain storm is hitting this area. Except for reading material, I’m completely stocked up. If the rain abates even an hour, I’ll hit Fred up for another 20 DVDs. War movies this time.
For now I watched “Apaloosa”, a western with Zellweger playing herself. The theme was early Clint Eastwood, the town hires the marshal to fight the bad guys. Excellent scenery and great shots of a steam locomotive shown totally out of context, but I imagine the real things are getting to be in short supply. Totally authentic guns and the attention to historic realism was commendable. But it’s all been done.
I’ve received new advice about the dating clubs. As figured, the inside information says they are all the same, and that it takes months to connect with even the most compatible of matches. That makes sense as the women circle the wagons. These long rainy days are getting me down, I really miss things out west, even if there are long periods of nothing. Prairie towns aren’t big on tourism on the Florida scale and you get to know all the prospects in no time. But the prospects also get to know you. Beware of dating in a small town. The first date you get may be your last unless you relocate.
I even checked my Facebook account and still cannot find one interesting thing about that app. I’d like to post a photo or two, but every time I try, it sends me off into some space cadet page for creating album covers. I even had time to browse the writing ads, I see trend that is deepening over the past year. There are more ads for writers with specialized knowledge in fields not taught in journalism school. It smells like another con, trying to pay a specialist the wages of a secretary. It’s hell out there.
So ends my fiscal year. There was a surplus. I have my own place and it is permanent. I’m mobile again, at least on two wheels. It was one of the strangest years of my time but also the end of a long process of adjustment. What saved me was not the computer shop, the shoemaking or the callouts, but music again. And that music has changed out of all recognition. The robotics was the best new development though still far too new on the scene to make a difference.
Around half the Frenchies have returned. The cable has new channels again. The clearest program is still that boring Stargate series with the budget aliens. Love the time trips back to 1999 when the movie sets were a lot cheaper. These back to back downpours have not been the greatest welcome for them, particularly since they like to set up lots of outdoor furniture for the duration. For the past half decade, I’ve dreamed about moving north for the summers, next month I actually start planning for it.
Two emerging items I’d keep an eye on? The Parasite bill in Congress and the Buchanan study. Parasite is a law that allows the government to create a list of all Internet domains suspected of even mild copyright infringement. Of course once they have the list and the capability, the authorities will use it to invade privacy. Buchanan is the writer who keeps tabs on the damage to American society of giving welfare to illegals. He projects if they don’t stop, we cease to be a nation in nine years.
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