November 8, 2014

MORNING
           Welcome to the Miami Maker Faire show, 2014. Beware, I’m on the grouchy side today. Here’s the star of the show (my pick). An Arduino prototyping board in a small suitcase, price tag $200. Similar to those electronic kits, it has a variety of the more popular components built in. Ah, you noticed the small central breadboard looks like the units I built last year. True, but this setup is more elaborate. In fact, a bit too elaborate for most people, so it is destined to become an expensive toy. Great concept, though.

           The show itself was limited in scope, and I have two pieces of advice for the organizers. If you are going to charge admission ($15) at least have change for a twenty on hand. Second, the organizers cannot be very bright because they attempt to put your identity on a computer at the show entrance. I guess they’ve never heard of identity theft, they are really that stupid, I mean, in this day and age. Putting people’s personal information on a database is just not something responsible computer people do any more.
           Was the show worth $15? No, but it was worth say, $5. The central area was set up to demo 3D printers, so Miami has finally discovered them five years after we did. The largest number of displays were these printers, around nine of them. Some of the displays were novel, including one where the print head was replaced by a small drill and it was preparing motherboards.
           The remainder of the show was geared toward older children, hence it did not come across as very cerebral. That is, the kids want to be entertained. But it was not all games, there were a few displays that showed promise, including an underwater robot that could carry a camera. And a glue-gun pen, sort of a 3D printer that kids can draw freehand. The hurdle there is that most kids cannot draw freehand worth a twit.
           There was a robot battle cage with a competition going on, but nothing you have not seen on TV before. Said battle-bots were kits, every one of them. A few high-school level clubs had displays about the level my group is still working toward, but a few choice questions showed none of these kids had the basic background knowledge to have built or programed these machines by themselves. No way.
           Miami LAB is in a kind of odd part of town, nice but you would not park your car there overnight. Also, the carnies were there with their vending trucks, charging outrageous prices. But I know the area and grabbed a cheese sandwich at a little coffee counter on the north side.
           I’ll need time to mull over what I saw. The place was definitely full of my kind of women. Sharp, talented, and entrepreneurial. I know better than to put on the squeeze so I handed out nearly sixty business cards. Guys, it’s an exhibition, not a single’s bar. Tell you what, the first one that calls, if any, I will take to the fanciest place in town on the sidecar and treat her like a princess. I don’t usually spoil women until after we become an item (a lesson a lot of men could learn), but I liked a lot of the women I chatted with. And more than a few of them picked up I didn’t have to fake a thing.

           Here's the most interesting thing outside the show, literally outside, on the street. This is a bicycle that makes smoothies. See the blender in the yellow oval? The fast the guy pedals the more electricity is generated and the faster the blades move. So you can burn off a few of those calories before you gulp down the drink. Clever.
           The batbike got tons of attention, including on the trip to the show. That’s 22 miles down Biscayne in the sunshine. The machine is a draw, but only the first time, I notice. On the way back, I stopped to check out the new, improved Churchill’s. It is identical except for a new ceiling. Otherwise, identical clientele and atmosphere. I finally left after waiting over five minutes without being served. The barmaid saw me but she was far too busy in a conversation with one of the regulars to take my money. At least that’s what it looked like.

NOON
           Here is an underwater “robot” as displayed at Maker Faire. Great, except no way was that device ever tested. Wrong center of gravity, not stabilization module, no visible battery supply or control mechanism. It would not survive a bathtub. Still, interesting concept.

           "Interstellar." I saw it at the IMAX for $15.48 and that was loud. Here’s a sci-fi movie kind of in a class of its own. A few scenes are worn out, but the action recovers quickly. The dialog is hard to follow unless you have a degree in physics. Wait, I have a degree in physics—and it was still hard to follow. There are no new special effects but the ones that are used are believable and fit with the plot. And that plot is another reluctant hero out to save mankind.
           There isn’t that much action, yet the movie keeps you watching. Good acting from a bunch of unknowns, at least to me. All female roles could have been played by far sexier women without detracting a thing. More of the parents are depicted as widowed rather than divorced, which is good. The 2.5 hour time will give you a sore butt. And here are the scenes I did not care for:

                      The cowboy brawl on the edge of the cliff.
                      The secret NASA base with the security fence.
                      The spaceship cockpit right out of a 2005 video arcade.

           And of course, everybody knows that retired pilots make the very best astronauts. If you don’t know that by now, you have not being going to the movies since 1986. And you won't be in them in 2016. And following on, retired actors make the best retired pilots . . .

NIGHT
           Yeah, I can imagine some are tired of hearing about bingo, but how many of them swing in the door and tell the old lady they had a rough day at the office? Same thing, that’s what I do, except bingo is not rough. It either pays well or not. It certainly never pays nothing. And today, one of the regulars won the big jackpot, resulting in the largest tip ever. Maybe not in bingo-dom, but certainly the largest around these parts. But, in respect of those who are tired, I won’t tell you the amount. Instead, I think I’ll go to Harbor Freight in the morning.
           I need a spree to cheer me up. I’ve obviously inherited a carcass that was built for speed, not endurance. And I made the mistake of thinking good living and such would stave off the defects I clearly saw in my ancestors. Wrong, no matter what, there are things I can never manage again—but spending money is not one of them. I can go through cash like a married woman.
           But this was not my day. Plus, I have a diminished capacity to tolerate uneducated people. Some days are worse and that exhibition in some ways made it hard to believe those people and I came from the same planet. Among the men, I met one or two of the adequately educated, and they were at least as old as me. Part of what irks me with the younger crowd is that, unlike in my day when school cost a fortune, there is no excuse today for being uneducated. Laziness is not an excuse, plenty of stupid people get their degrees by merely sitting through the classes, right Patsie?
           Careful what I say. I did not say it was easy to become intelligent. Only that education was free and therefore, compared to my day, relatively easy. Nobody says you have to take out a student loan to get educated, either. Not a shred of what I know about robots, music, navigation, or welding was ever learned in a classroom.
           And for some reason, that is the frame of mind that kept at me all day long. By now, I’ll bet you’d rather listen to me go on about to bingo. Okay. This was technically the last show. But I was invited back next Saturday by the new owner, or at least I think it is the new owner. Nobody tells me nothing, but tomorrow could be the last day. Speculatively, bingo has become an institution that nobody wants to meddle with. Nobody is counting on it continuing, but for now, bingo is the cash cow.

And this picture stays, not everybody is a Togla:

          [Author's note: The following was recorded for a different purpose, but I've included it here as an addendum because, it seems, a lot of people are mildly interested in these things. In fact, a whole lot of people].

ADDENDUM
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++I’m nearly finished the murder mystery book. Since it is non-fiction, I already know the case is not solved. That’s why I’m taking my time. And I reading it more to examine the police techniques because I notice they have not changed in fifty years, probably a little more. No, what you see on TV is not the actual procedures used. For good reason, because what really goes on is fairly underhanded. The police are not interested in justice, they are interested in a confession.
           And they will go through almost any length to get that confession, including coercion, threats, beatings, blackmail, and a host of similar tactics they would rather not be made public. What I can do is give you the general pattern to support the bottom line rule number one: Never talk to the police about a crime. Lawyer up instantly on principle alone, the police want you to think you are a witness but they view you as a potential suspect.
           The police want to interview anyone near the crime scene for a simple reason. If the perp is one of those interviewed, he will like about what he THINKS the police have found as evidence, the famous “cover story”. If you live, you lie. The police then match the evidence really found against these stories. Also, the perp will tend to act differently than other people, particularly in the use of past tense phrases when mentioning the crime. These two factors explain why the police want your “statement”
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           The problem here is that the police are hoping to establish two things: opportunity and motive. That is all they need to make an arrest. Hence, they will go after the most obvious suspect even if there is contrary evidence. Every year, reviews of old evidence reveal items suppressed during the original trial that uncovers wrongful convictions. This is why you do not dress like a gang member at night, at least if you want to make it as far as the police station.
           Your best defense is silence. It is very difficult to know what a man is thinking if he does not say anything. The Fifth Amendment is one of the most wonderful laws in existence, Americans don’t appreciate that other countries don’t have thins. Of course, when you plead the Fifth, the police will automatically think you are covering something up. But the jails are full of people who said the wrong thing to the police. Plead the Fifth right away, so it cannot be attached to any other point in the conversation. And don’t sign anything. And do not consent to any searches.
           As a reminder, your right to remain silent begins at birth, not when the police inform you of it.

           PS: aside to the Turk: Having a little run of bad luck lately? Gee, that's too bad. But don't try to fix it yourself like a man. Instead, run to Google. We know what you types are, people here have seen "Midnight Express". Does that reference intimidate you? Good. It was meant to. How's your day job at the prison going?

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