I wished I could have taken a tour and I saw numerous hiking parties. I stuck with my plan to go for a look and that’s it. There was much talk that the north rim was the better visit, though I can’t right off imagine how that extra travel would make any difference. I did notice that many other parks on the north side had familiar names. There is an immense amount of reading material available for anyone into the ancient history of the area.
Take all you need with you to the park, there are no real services except a tourist concession and small (one counter, five chairs) a coffee shop that sells pre-packaged bagels. Mind you, I stopped there for a pleasant enough break. But that’s the kind of break I had throughout this entire journey. I attended the twenty minute free video in the auditorium, nice but made for the masses. My slight background in geology made for a better appreciation of the gorges.
My quiet Thanksgiving yesterday, right here at my own gathering. I had pork muffins from the bakery, super-soup, and a pot of tea. The big pot of tea that lasted all day and now I feel like getting some work done. How did your Thanksgiving go? Any better? Any worse? And what is super-soup? Here’s the recipe: if it is vegetable soup and the directions say add a can of water, add a can of chicken broth instead. Home made chicken broth is something I almost always have on hand since a stern talking-to from my cardiologist a few years back.
Now, we go the extra mile for you, the reader, where we get you the information other people never think about. Called “Press-A-Penny” machines, you won’t find one around here, as they cost a pretty penny, something like $5,000. And weigh nearly 200 pounds. There is a portable version carried by a street vendor, but I can’t find one. On the inside, the squashing of coins is called “mooshing”. These machines are illegal in Canada. But, up there, so are most cash-flow businesses that are difficult to monitor. The coin law, however, is rarely enforced.
This morning, count two hours of study on the motorcycle electronics. I’m separating the independent (I call them) sections first, like the fuel gauge. Other parts depend on each other so they’ll be last in line. I need to start simple and easy but we’ve already learned it is the interdependence of many parts that scares people off as much as the wiring itself. If I can build ROM on my coffee table, I can figure out this topic.
Most interesting new information? The CDI, which no mechanic asked at the club could say. It is the “capacitive discharge ignition” and the title made sense right away. It takes place of the coil, points, and condensers. It is essentially a programmable distributor, and being programmable, it can be made to function optimally over the entire rev range. Learning this single fact alone makes this study already worth it.
That’s the happy part. I found replacement saddlebags that will fit the Honda. These are ordinary plastic bins, but the set is $584.00. I’m looking for alternatives. The fact is these saddlebags only look like they might stall a thief. Even the locks are largely for decoration. I repeat, there is no safe place to store anything on my motorcycle, much less keep things dry.
Back in Florida, I can’t keep my nose dry. While I don’t have outright allergies like some, there is always pollen dust in the Florida air and every time I return I have to get re-used to the sniffles. While at it, I also get sore heels for no reason. That’s right, for a few days I have tender heels. And dry skin, and a sensitive tummy. In fairness, I should not blame Florida because these are typical hot-weather conditions for me whenever I travel in the tropics. I’ll complain but in the end I’d rather sneeze than freeze.
ADDENDUM
This picture is just here for balance. This was early morning on the “City of New Orleans” leaving Memphis southbound. It captures the mood of the day quite well. The photo is titled "Leaving Memphis".
There is no easy answer, although I know I do not think about music the same as your run-of-the-mill guitar player. That I can explain. I did not take lessons. I was not permitted to do so. Thus, what I know about the entertainment business is not copied from anyone else. I was already able to play before I had any heroes in the trade which is the opposite of most people. That is correct, I already knew how to entertain before I sat down in my thirties, listened to Johnny Cash music, and decided he was my idol.
The analogy is the pile of lumber and nails. Some people build a cathedral, but most people build a hut. We admire people with the drive to do well yet as a society we overlook that not everybody had access to the lumber and nails. Worse, I was indoctrinated from birth that only Kings had indoor heating and that only talented people could make music. Lumber and nails, ha! Imagine what it would be like if a child had to first find the trees in a distant forest and the iron in a deep mine, and on his own develop the technology to make these raw materials useful, all the time fearful of being punished if discovered even trying. That better describes the atmosphere under which I learned anything useful in my formative years.
Does that answer the question? My music and presentation is indeed different from the pack because I am not copying anybody. I was not channelized by lessons and the influence of other musicians who all had the same teachers. What I learned was done so empirically, by adopting what works for me and rejecting what doesn’t. I don’t cling to the same set list for years hoping one day I’ll get my investment back.
That’s another reason I don’t believe many hard-luck stories about musicians. Upon examination, every one of them had handed to them what I would have found to be unimaginable, unthinkable quantities of help and leeway. If you were allowed to sit by the railroad track and carry your guitar in a gunny sack, or had the luxury of playing till your fingers bled, you had it easy, buddy.
