October 11, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 11, 2013, for unknown reasons,
this post is hugely popular. Thousands of hits.
Five years ago today: October 11, 2009, the Tat lurks . . .
Ten years ago today: temporarily suspended, I will notify you.

MORNING
           Here’s a snap of another custom cycle, this one has an odd-ball 260cc motor. You can see there is space for something larger. This is another show bike not meant for speed. The reason for this picture is this is the motorcycle shop that does the work on my sidecar, and that is a bit of sad news.

           Scratch the journey for at least another week. I was going to leave tomorrow for a mid-week holiday in Gainesville, attend a few festivals and movies, etc. But the Honda was still acting up. I went over there to examine the problem and again, it is the carburetor needles. I bow to the inevitable, I have to replace the entire motorcycle because of that. But not right away. I sunk $560 parts and labor into it today. Already bought and paid for.
           I appear to get around 10,000 miles between repairs, always centering on those carbs. They require more tinkering that I can afford. Structurally, the machine is as solid as the day it was born. The Ural sidecar, other than a not-so-hot paint job, is itself showing no signs of wear. The pleasure factor of this sidecar makes it just impossible to compare to driving a car. You don’t see nothing (by comparison) riding in a compartment. But without my carburetors, I don’t even see nothing.
           It should be ready by early next week. My decision to replace the motorcycle* was due to not just the expense of the old carburetors, but the difficulty in finding mechanics who still work on those things. I put a bid out on the airwaves for a Goldwing 1200 or better, and I will have the sidecar mounted on that. The extra juice will be most welcome. They don’t make an automatic (transmission) Goldwing, but I’d buy that on the spot. Anyway, toward spring 2015, we are looking at a customized motorcycle, ready to go.
           Alas, the money for this surprise trip has now been sunk into the 1978 Honda. I think instead of selling it, I might park it at Fred’s as backup-backup-backup transportation. Bear in mind, you can’t just park a motorcycle over the summer in Florida like you can park it over the winter in Texas. The atmosphere here does strange things to your unused property.
           This leaves me a week to twiddle my thumbs, and I’ll miss the best part of the leaves in the fall I so wanted to see. But hey, at least I’ll make it. I’ll have to leave the following week, as this upcoming stretch is the festival at the church, which I can’t miss. Stay tuned for what happens in that regard. And a long week with zilch planned.

           *[Author's note 2015-11-11: in the end, I decided to keep the 1978 sidecar. I budgeted to sink $500 into it annually until after I buy some land. I only need a few more major holidays out of it to keep happy, so it stays. Plus, one look at switching over to something else and suddenly a $560 repair bill doesn't seem so bad.]

NOON
           What’s this in the news? Hospital bills for ebola are hitting $1,000 per hour. Yep, health professionals in this country damn well know a good thing when they see it. I say the circumstances under which one catches such a disease are automatically suspect. But we have not a thing to worry about because Bill Gates, himself, says the USA is safe from the epidemic.

           Gates is currently in Africa, taking on malaria in his covetous quest for the charm he lacks personally. As far as I’m concerned, he made half his billions by not spending the money to make his operating system work half decently. And if you think he’s bad, wait until the newly announced Windows 10 hits the market. There is no “upgrade”. It must be separately purchased.
           There’s more. Windows 10 will only be installable on a “clean disk”. So, Redmond moves ever closer to complete control of your system. Kind of like Apple, but minus the reputation for honesty. For those who cannot see it coming, someday soon you will find yourself locked out of your computer.
           You will have to produce ID to use a computer on the Internet, possibly later to simply turn your computer on. Face the camera. Windows has been moving that direction for some years now. This blog will survive simply because I never did trust the way operators like Gates do business. Not since day one. I don't have to step in it, I can smell it a mile away.

NIGHT
           Now begins a week of “nothing to do”. I had so looked forward to Gainesville that I had no alternative plans. You see, the motorcycle appeared to run fine, so the problem was not discovered until the mechanic opened the carbs. I had told him at times it felt like one of the pistons misfired. So odd as it seems, I have no plans except to wait for another week, anyway. Let’s see how I fill or kill that time.

           Here’s a picture of Miss Florida in 1954. I happen to like 1954. She was twenty, and back then you just knew she had never been unhorsed. But I like you folks too much to leave you with a picture of Bill Gates, the turtle-man. Miss Florida, that has a nice ring to it.
           I’m partial to beauty contest type ladies. Did I ever tell you about Barb Wylie? She was a model, a blonde babe, that would have nothing to do with me when I was 18. Now, it is not the same to say she never got famous but neither did I. I was no model and I never stood a chance. But I wonder whatever happened to her. Probably married a shoe salesman named Al?

           Later, I had to make a decision over Karaoke. I barely dragged my butt through bingo tonight. Get something straight here—I love bingo and bingo loves me. It is 2-1/2 hours of “work”, but it is not taxing. However, 36 hours after I began Karaoke, of which ten hours was deep sleep, I was both tired and felt the “lugging” heart sensation that spells take it easy.
           Thusforth, I informed the management that Karaoke is not for me. It is hard to explain that it isn’t the money. Of course, I like the money. But I cannot take stress and like other areas, just because I don’t know the root cause of stress, my heart sure as shoeshine knows when it is present. There’s also the aspect that I can tell the club is going to shut down and it is entirely possible they prefer not to hire anyone else. I am the only one who would not be financially disappointed when the hammer falls.
           I admit, for the first time in maybe twenty years, I had a hard time keeping up with that crowd last night. So much energy and they knew all this Michael Jackson music I didn’t recognize. For that matter, I didn’t recognize Michael Jackson the CD labels either. Michael Jackson was black? Little joke there, Sally. Anyway, I had to flip through my MP3s and guess what would work. (Don’t worry, I guessed right.)
           Since the club would not take no for a direct answer, I agreed to show up next week and see how the new guy works out. The original deal was to figure out how the buttons worked and teach Lee-Anne, but she’s too busy behind the bar. So the bar told me they’d get her some help. I’m saying the bar wants me to stay but I want to be either at home or the coffee shop with a good book. I can’t be sleeping ten hours and wake up exhausted.

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