MORNING
A little Internet digging as only a database programmer can dig, and I have a lot more information on the property in West Palm. The place with the squatter. I guessed right, he is an ornery old cuss who lives off welfare, bleeding the system for everything he can. And making the yard look like Sanford & Son. He also has (I like the way this was worded) “a host of legal problems that hang over him”. Sorry, I have no mercy for old coots who wind up that way. There is no excuse for it in my books.
I am still prepared to wait until spring before even considering a purchase. I am working a number of angles, all legit, but that fly in the face of the average consumers concept of real estate. It is a Ponzi scheme, pure and simple, and there are suckers and dummies falling off that bandwagon every day. What do I care about people who pay for 30 years for a place to live and consider themselves “upper class”. What a joke that is and Florida caters to the fantasy of a secure retirement.
Nonsense, Florida wants idiots to come here and spend their life’s fortune on a gated community full of other old people. No life, no nothing. You can drive through there any day and never see anybody in the pool, or the tennis court, or the walking path. I’ll give you an example of one aspect of one thing I’m on the lookout for. These 55+ communities are a catch for me. It works like this. The people moving to Florida are generally unaware of the economies of these well-run trailer courts and don’t even look into them. Good. So it is mostly locals who live there.
When they die, the kids inherit the property, but not being 55+ themselves, they can’t live there. They are tasked with the double chore of finding someone who can and who has enough money. This is where we define “enough”. I want a three bedroom with a big yard, off street parking, a workshed, and a full length Florida room with land for $35,000.
I may get old and crabby, but I don’t plan on being a anybody’s liability. I cannot be expected to have much empathy for those who deliberately go that route. In this life, I’ve met people who smoke cigarettes but refuse to buy a lighter because they can always get a light from somebody else. I can’t stand these old men my age or much younger who waddle around blocking the aisles and taking forever to get out of the way. I'll bet the guy knows there was no verbal agreement and is just claiming that to get free rent until he is evicted. No, I don’t care for that no matter what the Bible says.
NOON
Here is another shot of the building. This is the front entrance, it looks plain enough. If you see the trellis in the background or whatever you call that thing with no roof right now. It has a full foundation for a 42 foot long Florida room that was started and never completed. The place has all the appearance of someone having started a major renovation but stopped after getting underway for a few weeks. The seller does not know that I know about the eviction and hearing, so I’m letting him run with my offer. Cash the day after the tenant is evicted and actually vacates the property.
Then I find out one of the waitresses at the breakfast spot doesn’t like me. (She'll learn to like me.) Odd, I thought, I’ve been going there for years, never a complaint or problem and I tip the prescribed amount. Plus, I don’t really know the lady and certainly have never talked to her beyond placing my order. So I was curious why such a person feels that way. As there is no physical reason, it must be something emotional and I like to hear about it when that happens.
Know what it is? In the years before the club formed, I used to go in there for breakfast by myself. I would normally take along a book, but not a Harlequin romance. A textbook of some kind, or a reference book. Turns out she does not think this is proper behavior. No, this does not surprise me because I’ve had it happen before. Actually, quite often. Weak-minded people do get offended when they discover others are ignoring them, even strangers in a public place. I’ve also had people object to my reading material. Books on robots and navigation irk them. Such books were not “normal”, as I had one lady tell me last August.
AFTERNOON
I get this e-mail from somebody in “West Broward” who wants to form a duo. This is rare. A guitarist who doesn’t want a full band? He says he remembers seeing me play guitar, but that’s a mistake on his part unless he saw me at Jimbos once or twice. But then, I’d know who it was.
This caused me to check Craigslist again, as a missed Xmas season brings out the others in my situation—unemployed at the prime season of the year. I read only the ads that specify duo work. Anything larger, even a trio, is more work than it will ever be worth in this branch of the bayou.
I found one possible, a lady singer who wants to form a duo for light fun work. Ah, so she’s been through the wringer with the local wannabes. The only stimulus I condone for duo work is the person good enough to solo but doesn’t want to. Like myself. Since she has a decent video link, I sent her a contact e-mail.
But do be careful, there is a nasty sub-motive out there: the guitarist who falsely claims he wants to go duo. If he ever played in a big band he is probably trying to shortcut his way back in. The Hippie and Cowboy Mike are prime examples. You show up for a duo gig to find they have invited all their other duos. You may have to rely on their words to weed them out. Certain giveaways are their “influences”. Are any of those bands duos? If not, he’s probably lying.
For clarity, they are pretending to want duo work only because they have not got what it takes to form the big band of their dreams at once, and the duo is their stepping stone. If any of their “influences” are bands with guitar heroes, those are not his influences—they are a batch of carved-in-stone songs he already plays. Influences, my eye. And he will refuse to play anything else, right Eddie? You will be in trouble as soon as he figures you are hooked enough to not walk away.
EVENING
In an unusual display of courtesy, the lady singer wrote me back. That’s a nice touch these days. Alas, she is going for a female duo. I’ve played in three all-girl bands in my time without incident. That’s correct, since I was already dating one of the women, I knew where to draw the line. How does a guy play in an all-girl band? Very delicately, let me tell you.
It is now 13:58 GMT. And I just got home, a moment ago I waddled in the door. It was one of those otherwise nights that turn into a party. My place is only big enough for three, maybe four people. The fifth person has to sit in the kitchen or out on the porch. Agt. M showed up with a massive pizza, so after music practice, we adjourned up to the Wiley Street Pub. (Agt. M turned out to be too old to learn music, or at least the commitment in time.)
I’ve mean-mouthed this place, but the new staff is from Buddy’s Place, so I don’t understand why they put up with street people. Like the guy selling stolen perfume and really stinking up the place. The better part of the evening transpired with the crew exchanging advice on how to pick up [rich] women in a bar. This made for lively conversation, indeed. Including a lady who spent an hour at least sliding written messages to me—this is something I sincerely appreciate, a novel approach. If she is for real, I’ll ask her out soon enough. I said “If.”
And tell Agt. M those pizza slices he left in the fridge lasted less than five minutes in the aftermath. Trent and I practiced two unfamiliar tunes or was it three? My inability to play lead guitar breaks is transforming into medleys. Although we have not arranged any yet it has to happen. The concept here is to not end a song when anybody has just got up to dance. Contrary to the movies, people need time to get out there on the floor, so you don’t want to disappoint. Right there is an entertainment concept better than anything they teach in guitar school.
ADDENDUM
Happy birthday, Eatmore. Hard to believe it has been this long—but you were wrong. While I never stood a chance in the world, I did not wind up on the skids like 100% of the other poor kids from my town. Nope, never did drugs, never gambled, never had to join any 12-point programs. Never been arrested, never even got a driving infraction (been charged, but beat the rap handily on tech details). Held a steady job, have friends I’ve known for decades, saw a lot of the world, and still lead an active life on a daily basis. From what I understand, you used all your wealth and family influence to become a housewife. But that’s a lifestyle, too. And I respect it, not to be confused with admiring it.
Today’s Togla Treat
How does he steer that thing?
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