September 25, 2015

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 25, 2014, on education standards.
Five years ago today: September 25, 2010, classic “extra money” quote.
Six years ago today: September 25, 2009, uncanny financial synopsis.

MORNING
           Chicken soup. That’s what I’m on today. All the avocado eaters are ill except the drummer. We all have sore throats this morning so he concludes we all caught the flu at the same time. Either way, one reason is as good as another to make chicken soup. Got my turnip, got my onion, got my carrot, and a cucumber? Naw, that’s just coincidence, I was unpacking groceries. Rather than chance a hot-weather flu attack, I’m staying warm and dry and indoors.

           That’s funny. Trump was insulted by Fox and he complained. Of course, all the anti-Trump media, coincidentally the same group who have repeatedly had their asses handed to them by Trump. The say that Trump is just getting his own medicine and they sound like kindergarten brats who think they’re smart calling you the same name back. I think what these media babies fail to understand is that yes, there are two set of rules. Yes, Trump does have a right to hold others to a different standard than himself. I’ll explain it to the little bastards.
           You see, Trump, unlike you people (and yes I mean “you people”) had the hard bark to set the pace against a corrupt and entrenched political system, choking on its own political correctness and dragging the nation to ruin. Trump is the one that confronted that, not you people. He has every right to swear, cuss, insult, cajole, and whine. But you don’t. You namby-pamby wimps never had any balls worth cutting of in the first place. Trump earned the right.
           The rest of you are, typically, jumping on the other guy’s bandwagon. You are a bunch of wimps, like the kindergarten kid who thinks he’s smart by calling the same name back. Trump’s correct in thinking you jerks deserved be confined to those same PC replies that reflect all the ass-kissing you’ve been doing your entire lives.

NOON
           Ah, I found the missing picture for this section. Here it is, Millenial drop-outs, hipsters, pensioners, this is what a $15 per hour job looks like. The fact is, America, big stink or not, less than 4% of workers earn minimum wage. And a huge whack of those make tips on the side. Most of the are also under 27 and will likely earn more once they gain some job skills to make up for their lack of education. As for the few recalcitrants that don't make it that far, no amount of help or pity is ever going to help them. Face it, some are just plain born losers.
          

           Now, the bad news is that the regular restaurant industry is going to see the savings once customers accept robot waiters. So if you think it is going to stop there, think again. In a way I'm glad, because it will put an end to this tipping nonsense.
           I repaired a desk fan, or rather made one fan out of two old ones. It’s remarkable what you can build once you get a handle on duct tape and strip ties. Knowing Agt. M has the same flu, I got him over here and we did all the repairs that have been put off. We installed the spare fan speed controller in my ceiling fan, which now has two speeds. Too fast and too slow. That was fun, repairing it while it was running and the wires were hot.
           Next, we got at that intermittent brake light problem on the scooter. It was a swinging short, and to my dismay, we found the entire rear electrical was non-factory and mickey mouse. It looks to me like when old Mario took my motor apart, he cannibalized my brake light assembly for some other job, and then slapped it back together when I got back from Canaveral. That’s the guy who did excellent work until he gained trust, then ripped people off.
           Things took all afternoon but that’s understandable, since this is where the iced tea, the comfortable furniture, and the Internet documentaries are chosen for educational value. There was one on the fiasco at Hong Kong in 1941. The Canadian Prime Minister took Churchill’s word that the city was safe and needed only a show of force. So he send 3,000 untrained soldiers, many of whom were underage. They were slaughtered into surrender, where 2/3 of them died in prison camps.
           Interesting, they held a reunion a few years ago. They invited the Japanese army camp guards, who denied knowing anything about the atrocities and maltreatment of POWs. They remembered only Xmas gifts and prisoners with cake. And dropping into the famed Oriental silence when shown photographs that proved they were all lying through their teeth. Must have been the next camp over, they said, and that’s what the guards at the other camp said right back.
           Bear in mind, that unlike Germany, the Japanese have never admitted any wrong-doing, expressed any shame, or paid any reparations for the war (compare with Germany). They refuse to even listen to or discuss the atrocities. And you can look this up yourself, the Japanese to this day teach their schoolchildren that World War II started in 1945 when the Americans attacked Japan with atomic bombs. Very few children in Japan today have ever heard of Nanking or Pearl Harbor.
           At the end of the meeting, when two of the Canadian POWs recognized one of the camp guards, the Japanese contingent suddenly remembered an urgent prior engagement at the Shinto temple. Or something like that. The nerve of the Japs, showing up at a reunion and pretending they, too, were just old soldiers who also had it rough.

EVENING
           I lent Agt. M a bunch of tools to go over to the seamstress shop, the place we repaired those commercial steam irons. That’s to get some peace and quiet over here, since most of the time this place gets turned into a workshop in the first ten minutes. (They see all the shiny tools and suddenly remember something that needs fixing.) I traced out all the wiring except under the structure, which is slated for tomorrow. Why? Because the office finally broke down and replaced the entire electrical box, but I know they’ll never do that again.

           I know, because they have a history of being reluctant with repairs. The strange old lady across the street got her electric cut off when the neighbor tried to dig out a tree route. She was three weeks without power and lost a freezer full of goods. On this side, we run an electric cord over to any neighbor who has lost his service, but not across that road. It is a city road, all the other lanes in the subdivision are private.
           That’s why you see all manner of unlicensed vehicles on these side streets. One old guy over by the pool hasn’t had brake or signal lights on his scooter for years. The other neighbor, the guy who flies the drones and quadcopters always heads over this way when I have company. He knows that always means something interesting is going on. But he isn’t in the same league. I’d build a drone, but not much fly one.
           He does take incredible video. He belongs to a club called “Phantom II”, the brand name of his quadcopter. You can see the stunning clarity of these photos on youTube at “dji oo14”. To view some of the work he’s done, this is “scenery” above Coconut Creek from a couple weeks ago. The photo is a still from one of his videos.
           Frankly, I find the drone crowd to be the same bunch as the model airplane people. Male dominated, expensive, and nerdy. Those type of clubs always remind me of going for a drink up at the Diplomat. The atmosphere is cultish and the only women present on the premises or at their Xmas parties are the, ahem, hired help.


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