March 28, 2015

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 28, 2014, long-winded.
Five years ago today: March 28, 2010, quite the read!
Ten years ago today: March 28, 2005, where’s the salt shaker?

MORNING
           Have you seen this “Spot Trace” device? It’s the size of a belt-clip pager and uses GPS to determine if it has been moved. The intention is to mount it on your valuables. It text messages you if your fixed assets become unfixed. And uses Google maps to pinpoint your property. This should be fun, as it does not notify the police unless you so decide.

           It’s an Australian product, so of course, you can’t just buy one and hook it up. You have to tell the company who you are and get a “service plan” and trust them they won’t tell anybody who comes knocking where your valuables are. Typical Millenium mentality. They INSIST that you have nothing to hide.
           Can you just see them defending your privacy. “We’re sorry, officer, but without a warrant, we cannot let you look at our files because the information belongs to the customer.”

           Their coverage map reveals a lot by the areas they can’t be bothered to monitor. That is, the polar extremes of Greenland and Tierra del Fuego, and Madagascar. It even covers Kerguelen, but not Mandela’s portion of South Africa. There’s a strange irony to all that and the fact that most places like the Caribbean are only covered because of their proximity to civilization.
           Y’day I drove through the Miami-Dade campus due to the street barricades around the music festival. Damn, I’m glad I went to college back when women at least looked half-decent. What I saw today was 17-year-olds with butt-crack tattoos, hooker hair, and snot rings. They looked like street-grizzled coke fiends. In my day, the incoming women were mostly right off the farm or a small town and had some semblance of innocence. I even met a few virgins.
           Oh well, in my day, people didn’t have to go to college to make up for their lousy performance in grade school. I’ve read contemporary textbooks, and it is all two-dimensional. All watered-down and dumbed-down so pea-brains could grasp it. Then again, in my time, you also had to be able to spell to even get into college and there is plainly no such stipulation these days.

NOON

           “Don 't interfere with somethin' that ain't bothering you none.” (Farm wisdom)
           Actually, I don't think that saying is very wise at all. It's just typical of the type of shitty things dumb old farmers think it is smart to say. In reality, most farmers lead such boring lives they stick their noses into everybody's business.

           It did warm up by noon, but I stayed put. Just me and the band saw. Who remembers that locksmithing course I took in 1986? Got 100% you know, that was when electronic locks were just coming in. My strongest topic was the organization of pass keys on cruise ships. That chapter was considered “tough” but I breezed right through it. It’s obscure stuff, so I’ll briefly tell you how it works.

           On a cruise ship, there are various keys that fit the same locks. For example, the cleaning staff key will open the passenger cabins, but not the captain’s. And the purser has a master key that opens anything. In between, you get various levels of security. Once more, these keys all fit the same locks, so somebody has to keep track of all this. The concept, called “Master Key Matrix” was shortly replaced by cheaper swipe cards.

           But don’t ever try to lock me up in a room with a bandsaw. I quickly discovered that I can make a wooden key that works just fine, at least a few times. The closest picture you get is this skeleton key, shown here for demo purposes only.
           I’m inside, staying warm and listening to NPR. They program that show by majority rule, you know. So you get broadcasts of two ladies arguing if you have to slice the onion “cross-wise” since it will fall apart itself anyway. At least they finally agreed to always “sear” your onion slices in a skillet to “get a little action going”. For denser cookies, you don’t melt your butter, you cream it. And, because it varies in density, be sure to weigh your flour. I missed the rest when I nodded off.

           But I awoke in time to hear some natives explain that their traditions originated “long before they were born”. Good, because we were all so unclear on that aspect of tradition, were we not? Or the guy who waits ten years until his father’s funeral to tell the family he is now a she. Great sense of timing, that boy, and he writes a book on how the day went for himself. Not poor dead old dad, but himself. Nothing tops a queer for self-centered sensationalism.
           Or how about the Colorado law that says cafés can refuse service to queers? As usual, the opponents miss the point. The law is not against queers, but against the display of alternative sexuality that forces other customers to watch, and probably lose their appetites. The queers don’t care about the food, they only want the right to do as they please where and when they please. And to call anyone who objects some pretty nasty names.
           Queer logic can be pretty amazing, you know. I don’t like brocolli, it smells funny. Therefore, by queer logic, I must be brocophobic. How could you not like such a wonderful vegetable, they’ll never know. So they want to force brocolli on you every meal, not until you like it, but until you give up and let them carry on. Some victory, guys.

EVENING
           It’s a sanding block. It’s part of the growing collection I have of home-made jigs and helpers that make my finished products look much spiffier. Besides, I always wanted to use “spiffier” in a sentence to see if it would pass the spell checker. It did. This implement is meant to lie flat on a table and hold a piece of sandpaper steady while the working article is hand rubbed. Works really great and gives a great impression of how much there is to do in Florida when one is unexplainedly feeling broke.

           Not that long ago I said I could not work with metal. That was the other guy’s department. But not so fast, necessity is the mother. I cut the plastic lock off my router. The spindle still has to be locked to change the blade. No problem, but I decided to make a new lock out of metal instead of plastic. Maybe I can work with ironl after all. It is messy but the procedure is very similar to wood.

           The work was so tiny and fine, I have no photos. I broke two tiny jeweler’s drill bits, so that must require some type of special drill I don’t have. The working pieces get hot even on the slowest rpm settings. The tolerances are very exact, taking up to 180 seconds to drill each pilot hole. This is demanding on the patience but the process is equally fascinating. It kept me happy most of the day.
           There’s more. The free batteries you get from Harbor Freight have an average shelf life of 92.4 days. That’s how long you can keep them new and unused. Thus, they are on their last legs by the time you use your free coupon. The question is why don’t I switch to rechargeables? Because, chum, I have never yet found a type or brand that lives up to promise. They never last the predicted term, but more like 60% of the claims—band even then, the last fifty charges are pretty useless, but you keep hoping.

           Further, the recharge schedule does not match my usage patterns. I often leave battery powered items on the shelf for a month or two. I don’t like having to change the batteries when I finally reach for it. It is also expensive to keep two sets of batteries so you always have that fresh set. I’ve long suspected the whole battery industry is another massive printer cartridge style consumer scam.
           A word to the wise, the delete button on your email is there for a reason. You need to regularly delete your in-basket, your send folder, and then your “delete” folder. In that order. The good news is this is a real delete that permanently obliterates your mail off the server. There are people working day and night to cause your mail to be copied permanently, but for now, the delete feature really works. Make hard copies of any information you need and delete everything else.


ADDENDUM
           There is no such thing as a “student loan crisis”. The rules have been the same since day one. You borrow the money, you pay it back. But these jerks are playing the odds they will get lucky enough once they graduate to score big. Thinking like that belongs at the casino, not on campus. The fact is, they (not me, not the average joe, not the rednecks) have let so many unskilled laborers into the country that there are no jobs left that pay shit. It’s supply and demand. When you amnesty border jumpers and the visa jumpers, you’re screwing up the supply.
           We had the same pack of nitwit goofs in my day. The bleeding heart liberal crowd who valued their personal aura more than doing right. They were all for “poor” immigrants and “poor” welfare cases and “poor” this and that–only insofar as they felt voting that way made them look wonderful. You know the type, will speed past an old man, but will stop and change the tire for a young woman. Always adopting puppies. That’s why people who look at America think we are the world’s greatest suckers. They are right and they can’t wait to get over here. It’s ripe for the plucking.
           Having said that, if there is one crisis I would not mind having, it is a student loan. For me, college is not an expense, it is an investment. Those who study history know that no nation ever became great without sealing off its borders and every nation with open borders brought about its own downfall. Classic example? Rome. They didn’t defend their frontiers either.


Last Laugh
Millenium Marketing

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Return Home
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++