One year ago today: August 23, 2013, I learn batteries.
Five years ago today: August 23, 2009, gripe about taxes.
Ten years ago today: August 23, 2004, a Beatles' anniversary.
Am I happy? You bet. Ever so often you get a situation that vindicates your struggles. I’ve made many bad decisions in my life, although I point out the majority were when I was forced to make decisions in situations where I had no experience. What I’m about to tell you is not to be confused with a trip down memory lane. I’ve got all those I can possibly use for in some ways, my life of music could be called a memory-generator. Tonight was a different affair.
Here’s photo of me looking at the nearly empty arena before the crowd arrived. It has been probably forty years since I’ve seen an ice rink and that I don’t miss. Note the ever-present notebook and pencil on the ledge. An hour later, this was my kind of gig. Packed dance floor, crowd pressed to the stage, clean atmosphere, and all the dumbest men out on the ice where nobody was paying them any attention.
It began with just the parents and guardians in the lounge area. That place ain’t cheap, a coffee set me back $2.50. At first only the adults recognized the music. You know how insular teens can be about what music they listen to—music that isn’t cool can damage your brain, you know. It can turn you into a troll or worse. But there have been so many remakes of the music we play that gradually we hit on something for everybody.
And it was enough to get the women dancing. Eighteen of them on the dance floor. But then, eighteen women and no men on the boards is nothing unusual to me. Women dance, men drink. Our lady singer said a lot of her high school class were present, and when I saw they were acting like it, I instantly modified my bass-playing to match what they were dancing. (This is discrete, nobody noticed, but I’m signifying that it was intentional.) It was like old times again.
Two ladies in particular caught my eye. Found out later they were Miss Ukraine 2012 and last year’s Russian figure-skating champion. Yeah, I missed a few notes and anyone who doesn’t understand can kiss my rosy red. It is one thing to remember being fourteen, it is quite another to relive it by proxy in one’s own time. I swooned just watching the blondes.
As for the band, they are finally starting to pull together, well, because they have to now or get individually left behind. Everybody on my stage gets a turn, it’s just that depending on your skill-set, some get more and better turns than others. It was the youngest crowd we’ve played to this band. Plus, after ten years, I was getting concerned whether my music would still have appeal. No worry, gang, I delivered the wow.
I know what some are thinking. Did I or did I not steal the show? Right off, I’ve never said I did that and I never would. But I do pay extreme attention to which band members (plural) get the greatest crowd applause during band introduction. I always have. To all my brothers and other excuse-makers, let me just say, AUDIENCE APPEAL IS SELF-LIMITING. If I was the tiniest bit a showoff or a jerk, nobody would cheer me. You must also fit into the band more than the other musicians [fit in], or you will incur their wrath. In this life, you appeal to your crowd or you settle for the crumbs.
Ah, you still want to know how I did. Just fine. That’s how I did. I could also say it is a good thing the money is divided equally rather than any other criteria, but I won’t. And I will confirm to the world that there is little chance musical genius and talent alone will outclass me on stage. Others don't even pay attention to the audience. I’m the opposite. Applause (and the tip jar) constitute my barometer. I’ll even tell others how to beat me at my own game—simply adopt my attitude. I’m really not too worried of that happening amongst the proletariat.
Long term? I think we’ll be back. It's the band I'm worried about. All work and no play. These party gigs supply the missing link in this band: stage time. Next such gig, I take the sidecar. I was in my element. Sadly, like most groups of older women heading out, the ones present tonight had pre-decided not to meet anyone. It was also evident the newer music we played was better. Caution, however, since if the band continues to move away from their stale rock, they are getting more and more onto my turf. Still, the impetus is for new music, and now. The band also is loosening up and finally talking to the crowd. Fancy that.
I came away pleased and content, in music that is what you hope for. I did smile, wink, prod, charm, and play directly to the most attractive women out there, one by one, and to no avail. That’s how I know they were behaving as a herd. (I found out later they were a single group, all shacked up.) I was back in my prime and nobody
Yes, it was a rare episode tonight. But may I point out that, for some of us anyway, they still happen.
ADDENDUM
I purchased some “ambient light sensors” and compared them to regular light sensitive resistors. This is for another kit I’ve been tinkering with. This kit demonstrates how the analog world can be converted to digital. Since this has been off the table for a while, the uncomplicated explanation is I take an ordinary alcohol thermometer and beneath it, I place a row of light sensitive sensors. As the temperature changes, more or less of the room (ambient) light is blocked by the colored fluid.
[Author's note: in case you didn't know, you can blow up the pictures by clicking on them, and to get back, use the X in the upper right hand corner. For reasons unknown, the usual ESC-key command has been disabled by google. I do not capitalize google out of disrespect for what they do.]
I was [formerly] using the old CdS type of light dependent resistor (top photo) when I saw what I believe is a newer type of sensor. Both are shown in the photo. Note the new ambient sensor (bottom photo) has a pinhole receptor. Both [types] are similar in size and identical in price, about 40¢ in bulk and up to ten times that individually.
They do the same job, the resistance falls from infinity in the dark to <5,000 Ω in the light. But the new type has more promise. It is more rugged, even the leads (rhymes with "seeds", the two wires for soldering) are thicker metal. It is less bothered by peripheral light and the change in resistance seems more linear to the perceived light levels, that is, half the light means half the resistance. Mind you, that is difficult to measure, but it works for me.
Here’s something. Although I do not own a portable computer—and probably never will again until they cost less than $100 and cannot be used when stolen, I see something I would not have noticed before. This light-variable resistor is in essence, a robot part. And so is the accelerometer inside the laptops. I wonder how many robotic sensors will eventually find their way into ever smaller computer packages and iJunk. Even the chip temperature sensor uses robotic code to know when to shut down.
What do you think? Maybe it is time to take another look at the thermometer kit? These kits are marketed as science fair projects, not Radio Shack gizmos. Remember, one successful kit nets me more than all those people smarter than me can earn in a couple of lifetimes.
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