Hollywood is such a swell place to live, as shown here. This is an axle-breaking crack in the sidewalk, a.k.a. a ski jump. But they've spray-painted it bright orange so you can see it, at least in the daytime. Now, is that nice or what? Actually, this particular crack has been here for at least twenty years, so it might be marked for replacement. But sometimes I like to play "New York Times" and make up stories. The bakery was unusually busy, and they now regularly sell out of the cheese pockets. I’ve only had one, and it was excellent. Several of the lady customers complimented me on the sidecar. One said she’d gotten a ride in one after the war and “felt like a queen”. This brings up another matter.
Here’s the commentary. After all this, I was asked why I didn’t follow up with the lady. Because she was old, almost my age. I would not derive much enjoyment dating someone who looks like my mother. I’m not being mean, I’m being honest. So the question was posed, under what circumstances would I date a woman my own age? That’s easy: If she pulled up in a sidecar. Get it?
This is entirely consistent with what I said decades ago. I know that X amount of effort has to go into a relationship and that most men waste that effort trying to get past first base. I don’t. I make a value judgment early as to whether a woman is worth it in the long run. It isn’t financial, I could have married for money at the age of 19. Regular readers are accustomed to my theory of accumulation, that without trying, the average person will accumulate things of value as time passes. The below average will not. Hell, they never even manage to get a place to safely store things.
A moment’s thought tells you that I would date a woman my own age in an instant if she had anything going for her that compares to what I have. (Educated, self-supporting, non-possessive, adventuresome, literate, handy, and under 200 pounds come to mind. But if a woman had all that, why would she need a boyfriend? Ah, now you’re thinking. Give me a woman who wants a boyfriend, not a woman who needs one.) The sidecar not only advertises, it spells out I’m not the type to grovel much. I like how it lets recalcitrant women know they don’t stand a chance.
So I straddled the sidecar and roared up to the Barn past Aventura. They’ve priced themselves so far out of the market I don’t even buy one book there in a year any more. The books are $40 and authorship standards tapered so bad even that price is no mark of quality. And I’m the last person that should balk at high-priced text books.
I’m also falling behind on bingo music, as in it is difficult to find tracks that I’ve not played many times before. The background has to be matched to the crowd mood, which coasts to mellow over the two hours. Sooner or later they’re going to quit buying the story that I play slow music so my batteries will last longer. But without file sharing, peeling MP3s off youTube is labor intensive, even if you can find a decent version.
Trivia. Do you like those birds painted by Audubon? Well, they were all dead. How do I know? Because he shot them. Look it up, the exact words are “First, he killed them using fine shot”. Next, I’ll tell you how to do something even nastier. Freeze the office bitch’s computer. Find your mark and while she’s at coffee, take a screen shot of her desktop. Then move all her shortcuts to a separate folder and make the screen shot into her wallpaper. Of course, none of her icons work, but if she’s as smart as she thinks, she’ll figure it out. According to Popular Mechanics, 12% of new car buyers don’t take the car for a test drive.
That reminds me, to all you people who have nothing to hide. It was in the paper today how 26 million of your social security numbers were stolen. Bet you didn’t even know they were on that law office’s computers. My social security has never been placed on a court document. Now people are filling out your tax return and living in seven bedroom houses in Florida bought with your money. Serves you right. The whole lot of you.
Zoom has built a real 8 channel recorder mixer for less than $500. I hope it works better than their lousy drum box, the one where you can’t save the tempos. There’s much more to investigate. Like the format, the disk operation, the file sizes, and what the used units are selling for. But this is one I will look into.
ADDENDUM
Study today was oscillating circuits. The kind with a coil and a capacitor, which have opposite characteristics to a current flow. Not only could the club not get an antenna to oscillate 18 months ago, I can’t get a simple circuit to do it on my workbench. I’m jinxed. I can pass any test of understanding but I cannot get a simple parallel LC circuit to tank.
This will be investigated. We are not failing through lack of understanding. Defeat and failure are not the same thing. Coils store current, capacitors store voltage. I suspect it may be like our first oscillator, where it was flashing so fast we could neither see nor measure it.
What I really looked at was 3D printers, this time the control mechanisms. They are robot parts. Step motors, guide rails, and what amounts to a fancy glue gun. Several models were controlled by a good old Arduino Uno under the hood. Literally, these things have hoods because the parts get hot. That’s 110 Celsius for ABS, the type of plastic LEGO is made from, and 60 Celsius for PLA, which is cornstarch and apparently smells like maple syrup when printing. Quick, Judy, print me a pancake.
The newest model of 3D printer is ”Cubify” utilizing a pop-in cartridge. I say again, these printers are going to cause headaches and problems because instead of buying your cheap plastic shit from China, you can make it here. Besides, there is no proof that cheap American-made shit is any better. These printers are going to change our world. If only I knew how to draw the diagrams of what to print. Those who get off their tush and learn these printers won’t fall as far behind as the others.
