We [probably] take it for granted all the basic components are of similar size and weight, and to some degree, shape. Fortunately, and it took me a while, this imposes a certain standardization on every design. There is nothing complicated about my apparatus, in fact, it is largely clever wiring. I found the correct ratio for reading to building is three hours bookwork for one hour labwork. Sorry, no shortcuts. Expect delays that would be ridiculous under other circumstances.
We are not finished. This is merely the prototype. The idea is to produce a kit and there are few concessions in this model for that. All effort went into making something that worked. Result, far too many different parts and wires. For a while, this now sits on the back burner. I don’t have the tools to build the kit. Like my Arduino, it is meant to interface with the physical world. But I can’t yet build anything to connect it with.
You know life would be so much easier if one didn’t keep running across those peckerheads to just don’t know when something is none of their business. We have one of them in the office of this trailer court. He is so dumb he can’t figure out the connection between his big mouth and his bad luck. I’m thinking of his eventual fate as I now direct your attention to a similar situation not so long ago.
It is now official. The old trailer court on 3rd is bankrupt. The city finally came by and sealed off the property, which has been abandoned for nearly a year. I cannot claim I was the principle factor, but I know that I cost them two and a half years. And in war and real estate, all delays are dangerous. I know more than I’m letting on, but I can say my old trailer sat there in the middle of that development for years before they finally got a permit to demolish it – smack in the middle of the real estate bust.
Other than a morning trip to the bakery, I stayed put. There’s plenty to do here, including repair the marker lights on the scooter, some painting, and check the vehicle fluids. Spray the weeds, mop the floor, practice music, who could ask for anything more? For those who don’t know, Florida bakes in the summer. That means I’m not out there in the yard more than a few minutes at a time. It only sounds like I was busy on the property all day. Nope. Most of the time is here in the shade indoors on the east side of the building.
And that’s everything worth noting today. How did your Wednesday compare?
[Author's note: in fairness and my own defense, I never meant that trailer court should go bankrupt and there must have been severe other shortages. I only wanted to teach them a lesson, but if that was the straw that broke the camel's back, it was their fault.]
ADDENDUM
I had to cancel a visit to Miami to learn some music before the weekend. I won’t outright criticize my new band because they are the best I’m going to find in this town. But there are stark contrasts in our completely polarized manners of thinking. That’s sad because we’ve all been through fundamentally the same meat grinder and yet opposing lessons were learned. Let me list a few, but get it through your head that I’m not saying anyone is right or wrong.
• I say we do freebies only for places that already have a hall, a crowd, and the potential for great tips. Why are we playing for some animal society at a hotel on the beach instead? Opposite thinking at work on this one.
• These guys know they have a pro bass player unlike any other in this area, yet they chose tunes with the weakest possible bass lines to play on our opening night. Instead of hitting them with “Spooky”, they opt for obscure Smoky Robinson, and tunes like “Pipeline” that showcase only the guitar. Wrong move.
• It’s a promo gig, we should do nothing but fast material to fire up the crowd. Nope, they want to play our slowest, draggiest “funeral tunes”. Thinking the audience will “get in the groove” has never worked right. The only thing that brand of thinking does is get us remembered as just the next band.
• These guys scare me when they come up with “ideas” like throwing a free BBQ in the park. That costs a lot of money. But they won’t pay an agent who will find us work measured in the thousands of dollars. I’ve learned. Others have not learned.
• For all the talk of new blood and fresh ideas, bands are dinosaurs. This one is no different on that count. Not one of the ideas I’ve suggested has been even considered. Strange, since my ideas all work. But I’m the new guy, so we sit on our haunches.
Now don’t conclude there is some active conspiracy to shaft the new guy. In fact, this ossified and recalcitrant behavior is highly normal for most bands. They cling to past glories, hoping for a repeat where they should be working for a change. My song lists have never lasted a year, much less decades like some. I’ve learned that t-shirts, CDs, and festivals in the park are 1980 notions that have no place today. I’ve learned to play individual hit tunes in preference to any one style of music or any one band. I stay away from slow music, especially the druggie rock and the boozie blues.
These are not minor theoretical variations. These represent completely contradictory concepts that cannot co-exist on stage. Who is right? I don’t know. It follows that I naturally believe I am the one who progressed [while others did not] for two very simple reasons.
One: the time line. I thought like the other guys did way back when I was a kid. But there is no way they can even pretend that in the distant past they ever thought the way I do now. I didn’t even like country music until a few years ago. Few of them could report such changes.
Two, proof. I have proof. People saw me get those hundred-dollar bills in my tip jar. I have videos of myself doing everything I say. My students will testify how I got them on stage in six weeks. You don’t have to agree with me to know the difference between talk and action. Nothing drains me faster than listening to some old guitar player spew out “ideas” that have never worked in living memory. Get a bunch of teenager beginners in a room, and you'll hear the same tired, unimaginative words. When they start talking about tacking dance posters on telephone poles, time to move on.
