A good laugh from my occasional read of “Don’t Tread On Me”. They listed the five places you don’t want to be when the dollar collapses. The humor was not the places, but the reasons. Like Israel. Imagine being there when America quits backing them up against the fifth-generation terrorists and their 120 million relatives. They also mention Los Angeles. Where everybody takes drugs and armed gangs outnumber the police by the millions in a space with no natural resources. The other places are England, New York, and Washington, but I would not want to be there at the best of times. I was on an island during a war once (Barbados), and was lucky to get out with my last dollar.Pat-B and I talked about those who don’t share our views on economic collapse. It would seem many of the teachers at his school have lower tier college than I do in the very subjects they are supposed to be teaching. I know a 200 level economics theory when I hear it. To think China and Japan won’t let us fail because we owe them too much is a fantastic notion. He reminded me to check at Best Buy for deals in their music department, since we both agree Guitar Center is no longer the lowest prices. And my decision to play sitting down, something I never thought would happen.
I skipped Karaoke last night, even though it was that new club on Dixie and I got the personal invite. It’s getting to the season again and I dislike going out alone. Now, I’m not saying I need a date, but some female company would be fine. That’s one of the rare things one could have at the phone company. Women who are just friends who in turn just want somebody along for the trip. Be aware it doesn’t really work out that well in practice, especially if you get attached to the women and they mistake that for love.
But take Liz. Years we traveled, danced, partied, took vacations together, and it was great. We both had cars, good jobs, our own money. We were not an item and many times discussed the value of using each other to meet people. Ah, but that’s the same Liz that got broken up if I started chatting up a new gal, but it was okay for her to give out her phone number and make dates right in front of me.
Pat-B and I got to talking the subject. It’s easy for outsiders to conclude I am working the wrong angles, looking the wrong places, and so on. But that is rubbish. I do fine the instant I get out of Florida. In the real world, I’m educated, talkative, independent, musically inclined, outgoing, and self-supporting. I dress okay, shave every day, have a real personality, keep busy on my own and I don’t smoke or gamble. And hey, I drive a damn nice vehicle and I ain’t no couch potato. It almost seems like you have to do all the wrong things in this town to get their attention.
My strategy will be changing shortly since the input from Colorado was so positive. Let me look at the files and find how long it has been since I met a nice girl. Twenty-one years, let me double check that. Yep, twenty-one years. Don’t confuse nice with too many other things. Give me what I want and I’m one hell of a nice guy. My average relationship lasts seven years, better than most marriages.
Things I like the least about Florida women I’ve met, dated, and dumped? In any order, pushy, lazy, dumb, co-dependent, untalented, demanding, and tattoos. It’s about the same here for women with kids who claim to be single. Another common problem is women who pretend to be what they are not for the first few weeks. I actually dated a gal who pretended to be nice for five years, which was great. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. If I wanted to strictly define my best relationships, it is always find a gal with enough going for her that I want to put up with the rest of her nonsense. And that is what really has not happened in twenty-one years.
I’m stranded unless I want to drive the Honda. The eBike has a battery connection problem and the scooter isn’t on the road for another couple days. So I read a little on urban survival. Nobody is going to last six weeks without being defending themselves. As usual, the best defense is secrecy. Don’t be obvious, don’t let anyone know you have reserves, drink tea because boiling coffee can be smelled too far away. One clever item is to never plant your garden in rows, so the veggies look like weeds. Who knows how to trap a squirrel? I do. And cook it, too.
Myself, I stick to the fundamentals. You’ll need food, water, and shelter. In a city, shelter isn’t that difficult, but stockpiling food makes you the first target. So don’t cook anything, eat it raw from the can. I’ll shortly have a solar cooker. Any other fuel, including gasoline, will likely disappear in the first few days. I’d be more concerned about the length of the crisis than how bad it gets. I already know I’m better at doing without than most, so it won’t be me marauding around the first week when panic is the worst. Knowing there is nowhere to run is an incentive to stay put. And I’ve already survived three months here without electricity (that means no light, no fridge, etc.)
