Here’s a photo of JP and I at the annual Xmas bash. It may be a repeat but tough, there's a different goal. The picture typifies the party-going, fun-loving type of people we are. Shown here is me helping him tie the boots of the Santa suit that gets a size smaller every year. Not shown are thirty screaming kids who have never yet been fooled even once. This year, we are thinking of me being Santa to see if that works. My grumble is, left to his own resources, JP will go to family gatherings rather than out on the town. And there are no eligible women in his family. Zero. And that goes for all the family friends, as well.
That was JP on the phone. Gosh darn, I missed out helping them pull a tree stump from behind the swimming pool at the old estate. Sorry guys, I had to be at band practice. They had to use a block and tackle. That would have been fun to watch. Three doctors and JP uprooting the flora with a chain. A ton of advice for every ounce of sweat. It was pressing against the pool tank and the new buyer wanted it fixed first. Rumor has it the place sold for less than predicted/expected. The boat has been moved to the Keys. That finally wraps up the estate and I put forward my vacation plans for mid-June or as soon as JP gets his payout. As usual, once underway, he’ll have the time of his life. The smart money says the first thing he does is buy a new truck. JP is a truck kind of guy.
The other side of this vacation is somewhat less pretty. I need to get him out of town. With his last name, he cannot hide his monetary situation. He’s got yet another woman after him for money, another Latina. He cannot employ the same methods I do to keep my money out of the relationship formula. Nor has he experienced what I have: women who shun you until they find out. With him, they already know. This is why I never subsequently go out with a woman who has ever turned me down even once.
It is sad that every woman he’s known has been after his fortune, but I shouldn’t talk since I’ve only met three in my life that weren’t after mine. (And all three were already rich—no, I would not marry for money.) My predilection for educated women only partially explains how I’ve learned to prefer those who are self-supporting.
It’s another matter when JP and I get to a strange city, but we have to get there first. We are a woman-meeting team. His natural shyness and my ability to talk to women like an old friend, it redefines synergy. I’ve got a few destinations in mind. The same rules apply. If he can’t make it, I go alone. But the best situation is him and I on the prowl. We don’t have to be predators like all the other men. Well, not all, but by and large everywhere we are likely to show up. We know all we have to do is—show up.
Once again, I find I have to remind a few people that I do not play bingo. It is gambling and I do not gamble. I am the bingo caller, for which I am paid a fixed amount. If you have theories about bingo addictions, you are not getting it. Read my lips, “I-do-not-play-bingo”. If you still don’t get it, you are probably reading the wrong blog again. You want tales from the trailer PARK. She types a lot slower than I do and you get to read about her pregnant cats.
On the average day, I spend 22 minutes on this blog. Less time than when I used to keep a hand-written journal. The undocumented life is not worth living.
Aha, I cracked the code on the mysticious sign at Buddy’s. Everybody, including me, took it to be an initialism. The first letters of words in a sentence. I was thinking “what you just said” or “what you just saw”. The sign has been there for months and the questions were driving the staff batty because they didn’t know either. I would have got it a little sooner, but the acute accent above the S was obscured by a drill hole from the mounting bolt. Once I figured that out, Google translate did the rest. It is Polish for “Emergency Exit”.
If you look closely, ewakuacyjne does resemble evacuation. But that’s enough diversion. I’ve got five tough tunes to learn this week. Plus a rustic keyboard to design. Part of the charm on the ROM project is how improvised it appears. I don’t want to ruin that at the last moment by resorting to something store-bought. I’m looking at using clothespins, which are surprisingly difficult to work with.ADDENDUM
Professor Howard emails links to Expat Navigator, a relocation service but also a good read for comparisons between countries on topics you won’t find in many travel guides. It is sad how government policies have made North America drop from the top ten of most every category. What caught my eye was the top ranking places (Singapore, Thailand, S. Africa) are places I’ve lived and predicted would be great. On the other hand, of the ten “saddest” cities in America, I’ve lived in two of those. Trust me, you would not like Redding, CA.
Urban legend has it Redding is where the original computer bank scammer was nailed. As the yarn goes, it was in the early days of computerized banking. The programmer used the rounding algorithm to deposit the “missing” half-cents in accounts he set up around the state. He would then drive around to various small towns every other month and withdraw the loot. The tale from the trailer court goes that he was only caught years later when a teller retired and moved inland. She recognized him and wondered what he was doing in Redding.
What? You want more info on computer rounding? Well, the alternative version, known as the “Superman” rounding scam is that some little old lady asked a bank president what happened to the fractions of her interest pennies. But that would require an intelligent bank manager who both knew about and cared about fractions, pennies, and little old ladies. I’d rather believe in the Easter Bunny.
Here is how the rounding algorithm works, the easy explanation. In decimal you would write one cent as 0.01. Thus one and a half cents is 0.015. Looking closely, you add .005 (one half cent) to the .01. But let’s look what happens when there is already a fractional cent in the first amount, say 0.013 cents
When you add 0.013 plus 0.005, you get 0.018. Now “cut off” the last digit, the 8, and you are back to 0.01. This cut off is called truncation.
Next, suppose the first number is 0.016 and you add 0.005 to get 0.021. Now when you cut off the last digit, the 1, your answer is 0.02 and to the outside world, it looks like your computer is magically rounding off the numbers. If you are not convinced, try it on paper. This is how the programming actually does the job—and the fractional cent issue was well known before computers came along. Thus, I doubt it ever happened.
