MORNING
It’s one of those days for me, lazy as . . . lazy as what? Lazy as most people? Fear not, today will not pass without some accomplishment, even if it is only some hobby of mine. Who was it that said hobbies are boring except to other people with the same hobby? That’s probably true for those who choose a pastime that doesn’t make them think. In other words, it is not the hobby that is boring.
Here is the courtyard at the bakery after three years. The houseplants have taken half the area, which makes it more like a small garden. The landlord never did put up the awning. There is room for just two tables. And the bakery is considering no longer baking variety bread. There’s no money in it. Last year they quit making rye and that leaves white and whole.
The flour is imported from Canada and apparently is getting too expensive. You’d think with all the Canuck farm subsidies, wheat would be nearly free over there, but no. When the government gets involved, most things backfire. The money is in wedding cakes, fancy cookies, and selling specialty items.
I mentioned the banks being fined $950 million. That’s just the American banks. And my horoscope said people are going to find me aloof and distant today. That’s not true so "get out of my face with that". Little joke there. And it is Karaoke day, if I care for that. Nobody knows what will happen. I replied to another ad for a bassist, but this being Florida, they did not have the courtesy to say one way or the other, or even reply.
The Herald, on a back page, reported a murderer who killed his girlfriend and her daughter some twenty years ago was executed. It would be “raysis” to mention the killer was black, so you won’t catch me mentioning any such thing in print. As morbid reporters like to do, they gave details of his last meal. In reality, most people questioned the execution, as in, “What took them so goddam long?”
NOON
Ah, this is the kind of shirtsleeve weather that reminds people why they stay in Florida as it goes to hell. I spent the easy afternoon working on the cPod and listening to the romantical station. It’s fat secretary office music but it beats the other choices. Who remembers the song, “The Power Of Love”? It might be called something else, I don’t actually mind it though it is way too drippy for me. But I once worked with a guy who hated that song beyond loathing. Really. When it came on, he had to leave the room.
Lots of challenges along the way of a similar nature. Ah, and I was right about those marker lights. The original wiring diagram was wrong. I carped that it was complicated. Now I know why. The way it was, the front (amber) marker lights would go out when the brakes were applied. A year ago, such things could flummox me; this time I did not trust their diagram and designed my own harness.
Later, as the sun got low, I heard a crash in my kitchen. It’s that wicked smart mouse. He tipped over one of my glass bowls getting at a few breakfast crumbs. I liked that bowl. He’s trap shy and knows what to avoid. This time, I filed the trap latch to make it hair-trigger, sprayed it with scent-away, and making sure he has only one easy travel path. Mouse, your days are numbered. That’s partly because of the outrageous price tags on a havahart.
By nightfall, I’m famished, greasy, tired, and content to stay put. Cancel Karaoke unless they call and give the invite. Which reminds me, they never returned my adapter cable. Speaking of cables, I found there is a way that those fancy solar panel cables can short. Those guys should hire some robotics people in their design department.
Moments later, did you see that comedian with the gag about the bird noises on the golf channel? It seems that was not contrived, it really happened. Turns out they use fake bird chirp tracks in the background. Somebody called them on it. The golf course in question was in the wrong migratory path. WTF? No, no, some of you got me wrong. I'm on the side of the bird-watcher--he's smarter than the entire golf-watching population put together.
NIGHT
Hmmm, staying home was more fun than going out. After close examination of the new superstructure requirements, I’ve again decided the best waterproofing is several layers of undercoat and goop in the seams. But this time I’ll use some more flexible roofing fiber, the gallon of it I was going to use to fix the roof on the triple-wide before Wallace went crazy. When you break a financial deal with me, you have to be crazy because you will lose money.
So I headed off the the Walmart used paint department. But the guy in charge of the cage booked off sick and forgot to leave the key. Maybe tomorrow. Remembering the radio interview with those women last day, I thought why not drop in to the logical local place women who don’t like bars or lounges would go out on a Friday? They said they like men who spend money on them (no comment) so Friday is the logical day to scout. I went into Starbucks and looked around. No logical women in there.
Except for a couple of Frenchie couples, I was the only person there. I was there forty minutes, reading. I was the only person doing so. A dork came in with a laptop, but that isn’t the same as a book. Except for the expensive beachfront, there is no place else around here women could hope to meet men. Again, I was the only person in the coffee shop most of the time. I drove past Panera on the way home and it was empty as well. Um, I’m probably not the only one who finds the women who go to the Panera are generally a strange bunch.
Strange? Yep, outside some of them chain smoke, some dote on their toy dogs, many sit alone but jitter around like nervous wrecks. Others bury their face in cell phones, or talk to themselves. Some look desperately lonely, but after a certain age, desperation is a turn off. And gals, a man who would go after a crazy-looking woman is likely a little bonkers himself.
Anyway, all the women in there are weird. The odd time I see a lady doing homework but I’d need an invitation to interrupt anyone who is studying. And yes, I did get an invitation to Karaoke, via text messages. I see they are now plugging the old Karaoke guy as the new Karaoke guy. Back to Panera, I was about to say one of the perplexing aspects of the strange women over there is that many of their behaviors would be attractive if not alluring in much younger women. But not twenty thirty years later. For example, putting on lipstick in public. Please, don’t.
[Author's note: following is a quip not originally intended for publication. However, it does accurately portray how I personally react to new incoming data, and how I make decisions based on it. I thought, okay, publish--and here's more than a few concepts you won't find in the user's manual. I mean, who appointed the guy who came up with tow tongue lengths? MicroSoft? Anyway, enjoy, even if you are not an avid motorcyclist, here are some good reflections on camping in general.]
ADDENDUM
Here is my dissertation on motorcycle campers this year, incorporating what I’ve learned. Lesson one is be very careful what you see on the Internet. Most of what is there does not make the grade and some of the contraptions are outright dangerous. Take a look at this monstrosity. If it is too heavy, one jack-knife and you are history, if it is too light, one side-wind and you are in the ditch. And in the windy mountains, there may not be a ditch. I drove through the passes at John Day last year and would never have pulled something like this.
After the comfort of wood, the rest won’t do. Metal does not isolate you from the outside, the few metal parts of my first unit were always too hot or too cold. And I know from being aboard boats that you can always smell fiberglass. Only wood adequately dampens outside nose as well—though you can hear around the immediate camper out to several feet surprisingly well.
I’m talking from a position of some authority here. Anyone can manage a few days in a fluttering tent, but I was gone 29 full days on my first trek, something I could not have done if the right complete comfort was not there. The new camper now under construction incorporates this experience. For instance, I know the bigger the camper, the more temptation to take things you don’t need.
Many of the commercially built units are also overkill. You may need stereo and TV, but I need only something to sleep in safe and cozy. It is also evident none [not any] of the other campers have addressed the problem of the weak motorcycle electronics. Everything is fine for the first few days, then you notice your rig gets harder to start. You charge the battery, but it lasts less and less. If you troubleshoot, you find the alternator cable gets very hot and damages the insulation. If you persist, the repair gets very expensive. So do new batteries.
The trailer tongues are also too long. I know they are designed to also be pulled by cars but there is no need on a motorcycle for the load to be eight or more feet behind you. This also makes the requirement to find two parking spots and ensure you can pull forward out of them. My new axle will be less than four feet behind.
As for the interior of the camper, rustic is good. It beats tent canvas any day. I’ve designed the lights to be on all the time, keeping the compartment bright. A small circulating fan also keeps the interior dry and sweet. There was no “sleeping bag” musk at all, like you get in a tent every day. I did rig up a white noise generator (after the first day) [because] I chose a spot too near a major [noisy] roadway. Then found I like to have it on all the time I’m sleeping. Or even inside the pod.
Since I am up off the ground, the interior is surprisingly temperate. There is no dampness from exhaling and no need to air out the blankets and such. I experienced a few rainwater leaks but the side vent holes were enough to get the material bone dry after a few hours driving. I even spent one night in the damp bag, but it remained warm enough to sleep well anyway. Try that in a tent.
And the quality of that sleep is important. While I have not “camped” in years, I know how it is to wake up groggy and soggy and try to get underway in the morning. Dew all over everything and the need to light a fire. With the cPod, I woke up refreshed every day. This is well-recorded a year ago. Not just occasionally and not just rested, but wide awake and raring to go. I naturally woke after eight or nine hours and did not have that “leave me alone and let me sleep” feeling. Nor do I like mummy bags. Inside the camper I have a full double-size barrel bag that lets me move around all I want without ever hitting the walls.
Where I’ve mentioned a tent, it is only an attachment I’m considering. It is not for sleeping, but for privacy and getting dressed in the morning. There was no need for longjohns or earmuffs, sleeping in the cPod was identical to home. I normally stripped down to my ginch and where it is easy enough to undress lying down, the same is hardly true when you get up in the morning. All too often, the private corner of the lot where I bedded down was surrounded by other campers when I got up the next day. I got more than one quizzical look crawling out to sit-up position to pull on my trousers.
What I have in mind is a small awning type with sides, possibly with my ankles showing when standing. Inside the camper, I had books and maps, as well has pockets for small tools, my cell phone, and a two-outlet 120 volt inverter that easily charged all my batteries even on overcast days. I’m sure I said, but the marine battery can operate the interior fan all night long, almost like climate control. This is a different consideration, but the camper must be high enough inside to lean up on your elbows.
The camper bounces a lot on rough terrain, though that kind of going is rare for me. Still, I was endlessly putting things back in place and looking for items that fell off the wall hooks. This time, everything will be held by clips. Sadly, I am all out of that beautiful blue paint, which turned out such an excellent color for the interior. I may also add some exterior stowage for things I purchase on the trip. I have no intention of cooking on the road, that is too much like work. But I carry plenty of liquids, hot and cold and always bought fresh.
That's always bought fresh with the small fortune you save avoiding the rip-off hotel/motel industry. And you don't have to show ID to take a nap. At least not yet.
Return Home
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
