One year ago today: June 1, 2014, robots, & Coulter
Five years ago today: June 1, 2010, broken phones, & stamps
Six years ago today: June 1, 2009, a day off.
MORNING
Coffee. That’s what I’m doing all morning. That, and the newspaper, see who else is in trouble with the law over things that weren’t worth a lick twenty years ago. Example? That law that says you can’t spend more than $10,000 without telling the FBI, and then another law that says you can’t try to get around the law even if you find a legal way to do so. This country is getting like Canada, where it is illegal to devise any way to save on your taxes by structuring your business to obey the law. I’m not making this up.
I didn’t head out anywhere on the weekend, so I still have the $20 budget, it's unspent and burning a hole in my pocket. I remember when that was a week’s groceries. But hey, it is never people like me that let the world become such a mess. I don’t belong to any majorities. It’s these jerks who don’t want to fight for anything a little at a time. They want comfortable lives—except for that big revolution every 250 years. As long as it isn’t them.
Who likes the Cocteau Twins? I can’t say I do or don’t, because their music is so slow I fall asleep or get distracted every time I try to listen to it. Am I the only one? And forget Royksopp. Norwegian punk meets disco-rap in 1998 musical junkyard. Remember back when songs didn’t become a hit unless everything sounded original? I’m from that era.
NOON
“Send your loved one some flowers. You’ll think of a reason afterwards.” --Farm wisdom.
Noon found me downtown by bicycle. Then over to Starbucks because it is the only real coffeeshop left in that area. And it’s the worst Starbucks in the county. It’s never crowded and the furniture is falling apart. The only thing in the place that’s on my diet is the coffee. Decaf. Most of the clientele there is also decaf, but today I did meet one of the sharpest dudes in Broward. The connection is that he gave me a demo of how to interface this blog with Twitter.
Another thing not well-know in my circles is acetylene cutting. I’m the type that has to take my bicycle to the shop to fix the chain. So, next club meeting I move that we buy a basic torch apparatus. Meanwhile, I’ll do the research from here. Where it is safe and I won’t burn the place down. Is it related to welding? Do they make a beginner’s kit? Check back for this and more.
Did I mention the fellow at the vacuum shop owns a plasma cutter? I have not asked to see it as I’ve since become aware he has it set up as part of an assembly line operation. I jotted down some trivia for you last evening. Just give me a chance to find it.
Here it is. Did you know that almost all hospital bills contain errors, and that 89% of those are in the hospital’s favor. Check your statement, they’ve clearly been taking lessons from banks. Ah, you like percentages. Okay, what ratio of objects listed on eBay get no bids? Answer: 54%. The most requested recipe on the Internet: macaroni & cheese. And last, how old was Cher when she had her first number 1 hit? (As opposed to being in the top ten.) She was 52 years old. The oldest woman in history to get there.
What? The song was “Believe” in 1999, okay.
AFTERNOON
Tomorrow at 11:00AM I have a meeting in Miami. It so convenient to think of S. Florida as an extension of Miami, but it is 25 city miles from here. Take the freeway? That’s a joke. They’ve been ripping that up and repairing that road since I arrived here in the last century. While the meeting is to settle some financial scores, a process that banks formerly called set-off, the pile of cash left over will be significant.
I’m reminded of my partnership with RofR for so many years. In the end, it was lost who owed who what? I estimate it could have gone $4,000 either way, which is around $10,000 in today’s money. I often wonder how that guy is getting along these days, I mean, as far as a productive life. He sacrificed more than anybody I ever knew to get ahead in the world. Living in isolated areas and going to school for half his life. I admire his accomplishments, but I would not trade places.
EVENING
Is it really that small a world? I hopped on the Jamus (bicycle) and headed over to the nearest pub for a brew. And who should I meet there? Did I mention the last gal skipped down (big time)? As I waltzed in, who should be the new maid but good old Hayley? Who is Hayley? I’m glad you asked, because this goes back to a time I remember especially well. That was when Wallace decided he was the boss and got his ass handed back to him.
Carlos is the one whose roomies had such difficulty paying their share of the rent. Yes, that Carlos, the one who left for New York in his van. Remember, he crashed for a week? He’s back in town, still claiming to be a bass player, and now 56 years old. Hayley served me a couple of Millers tonight, but I didn’t stick around.
If you like the nudie picture, here is another. (This picture is misdated, it was taken in 2008. Seven years ago.) Hmmm, 56 years old, you say. That would make him old enough to buy this place. At the right price.
Last Laugh
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