October 12, 2014

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 12, 2013, reads like filler.
Five years ago today: October 12, 2009, Thai alphabet,
(in my own hand-writing).

           Here I am in Hollywood, wishin’ I was in Gainesville. Now just because I said I’ve nothing planned, that doesn’t mean nothing to do. Because I know how to read and play music, I can say that I’ve never been really truly bored or penniless. These are not idle problems, you know. Even rich people can be broke once in a while, I’m not talking about broke. But boredom, there you have a real challenge. Some people don’t even know they are bored and are always boring in return. They are the type who fight for the TV remote that I don’t even know how to use.

           So, what can I substitute for lack of planning? How about random items I encounter today. We’ll start with this package of near-food. It says on the front label this is “Made with 100% REAL Idaho® Potatoes Perfectly Blended with Sour Cream, Cheeses, Onion & Chives with the Taste of Butter & Bacon”.
           “REAL Idaho” is a trade mark, which applies to a factory, not a food. But let’s take a peek at what is in the package besides food. Remember, it says “made with”, not “made of”. It also says “Idahoan” instead of Idaho, after the Idaho Fry Company was sued by the Idaho potato commission. Seems you cannot use the word “Idaho” to describe any potato product without bribing consulting the commission.

           For expediency, when it says “may contain”, we will assume that it does and they just don’t want to state it directly. This is from the fine print at the very bottom of the lower picture. And take this list in order, since in their infinite wisdom, the creator of HTML didn't have the brains to include tab controls. You see, being eggheads, they know more about typing controls that the people who have been using them for 300 years.

Idaho® potatoes Coconut oil Palm oil Soybean oil Cottonseed oil Sunflower oil Canola oil Corn Syrup Solids Whey Maltodextrin Lactose whey Cultured milk Salt Enzymes Disodium Phosphate Whey protein concentrate Citric acid Lactic acid Yellow dye Textured vegetable protein Caramel color Sugar Nonfat dry milk Sodium Casienate Artificial milk flavor Artificial soy flavor Dehydrated onion Sour cream Glycerides Hydrolized soy protein Autolyzed yeast extract Dextrose Calcium stearoyl Lactylate Spice Natural smoke flavor Chives

Note chives is last on the list. The ingredients are listed by content, largest first. I count around 40 different substances. I mean, what exactly is "textured vegetable protein"? And why does it need texturing?

           And the rest is sodium acid pyrophosphate, sodium bisulfite, dipotassium phosphate, disodium inosinate, disodium guanylate, tricalcium phosphate, mixed tocopherols and silicon dioxide (more commonly known as “sand”). I gave up trying to run these words through my spell checker. You might guess that maybe five of these ingredients are recognizable as food.
           Now the question remains: do I eat this stuff, pave my driveway with it, or call the Poison Control Center?

NOON
           I understand the factories want their food to stay “fresh”, but have they never heard of vacuum seals? The granddaddy of dry vacuumed food has to be the Vacucanner. Then balked when I saw the $500 price tag. It is basically a pressure cooker with a vacuum pump. Now the bad news. They don’t tell you a lot on the video. Most important is that you cannot use it for any food that contains moisture or oils.
           And speaking of oil, the vacuum pump has to be watched as there is no shutoff mech. If you leave it too long, the bearing oil will draw back up the tubing and contaminate your beans. This makes the system labor intensive, so get a good book and a timer. You might also find the big mason jars are too much food at once. Use smaller jars if you can still find them cheap enough.

           You can make this device yourself for about the cost of a used high pressure vacuum pump, say $40, and a couple fittings for the pressure cooker. Just remember, you ruin the pressure cooker doing this so never heat it up again. Years ago I thought of a way to have two pressure cookers connected so you didn’t waste the vacuum opening the lid. Also, be suspicious of the claim the food will last 30 years. More like five years and you have annually check it in the root cellar.
           Still, $500 is way overpriced for this setup.
           Next, I wired up the LEDs that will replace the camper pod interior lighting. The original “bulbs” work, but they are also fragile and impossible to replace. Not difficult, impossible. I found the LED strip requires a fuse, but the instructions don’t specify what kind of fuse. From experience, I added a capacitor. I tried to take a photo of this apparatus, but the LEDs are too bright to allow a closeup. Funny how just after I get into LEDs, the market is suddenly full of products.

           I do the fine wiring at home, on my desk, but here is a photo of the clubhouse. If you were expecting something super huge and expensive, you have not been paying attention. This shed is off the grid, the electric is all solar-powered. Hey, Nova, at least we have a clubhouse—and it belongs to us. And the price was right.
           In the background, I played a documentary on Chinese history last century. It’s terrible, the way they made documentaries back then. They would get like some politician or diplomat to narrate. Diplomats look and act weird on camera. It’s hilarious the way they try to emote when stressing matters of personal experience. And how they never cease to drop hints of their self-importance. “Chiang said to me, he said, John, you diplomat you . . .”

EVENING
           I guess I’ll call it the “Sunday Brunch Crisis”. I don’t exactly hang out with poor people but am I to be the only one who can afford breakfast out every weekend? We all know what the $2.99 special really costs, but Sunday is special. Today I went alone to the Panera, where I had the breakfast bagel with an egg. It was pretty bland. Like the people there. Nose either stuck in a laptop or a cell phone or sitting there with a blank stare.

           Then there is me, just a pencil and some graph paper writing paper. Well, okay, and a slide rule and some navigation tables and a hard cover book and a compass and protractor. But other than that, and the stopwatch and the atlas, I could be just anybody. Let them stare (blankly), they are lucky I gave up on the abacus back in ’02. I had some toothpicks to count that year.
           I like my hot food hot, I mean scalding hot. Luke warm, no thanks. The Panera steak and bagel didn’t even fill me up. Once a day, I like a sit-down coffee or something in a café but I also like light company. Do I have to open my own coffeehouse? You know, I’ve got a meeting with an old investor friend of mine this week. He’s been saying the same. The last time I hung around downtown was when I had the Internet store. I could do it again with a coffeehouse.
           And the power station picture? Just there for looks, but why not learn something in the process?

ADDENDUM

           Barb Wylie, the model from my university days. The one I really wanted to poink. She never gave me the time of day, although that could be because she never learned to read a clock. Anyway, I followed up her career and found her first try.
           She’s running an “Ultimate Adult Social Club” near Spokane. When I think about it, that is probably the most efficient career she could ever hoped to have performed with the skillset she had back in our campus days. You go, girl!
           I looked but could not find a photo of Barb, back in the day. However, this picture is pretty close. This is what she looked like except Barb was blonde. And she drove a Toyota Selica. We were at the same university for two years, Barb and I, but never was she in any one of my classes.
           That means she was either jock or education. She was the only other person in that huge student residence besides me that had a private room. But other than giving Toupo, my guitar player, and I a ride to the bar once, we never really spoke.
           Sigh. I liked 1972.