One year ago today: October 10, 2014, women this big.
Five years ago today: October 10, 2010, real estate bottoms out.
Six years ago today: October 10, 2009, remember pcvive?
MORNING
Did I get anywhere with food research? Yes, however I don’t know if what I’ve so far done will surprise anybody. Americans have a 70% chance of being overweight, the exact ratio of who eat fast food more than thrice per week. And two situations produce a higher acid level in the blood, called a pH imbalance: stress from driving and cancer. I also found tons of little items we suspected all along, like those food charts on our old schoolroom walls showing the food groups. Sponsored by the dairy farmers associations.
Why not? I’m too old to become a nutritionist (based on my known rate of learning, not my age) and I can’t do anything exciting until the sidecar brakes are done. Here is a photo of the new $12 electrical outlet, wired up to specs. I might spend the day making minor household repairs. That’s one desirable spin-off of building robots. You can fix almost anything on the old homestead.
Yep, I did it. Back under the crawl space to replace the faulty wiring. That’s right, last day we only managed to fine the problem before dark. The outlet in the picture is now properly installed to spec, probably above spec. But it is dark and I do not own a flash camera. What a chore that was, because it is the main circuit that controls the lights, fans, and air conditioner for the Florida room. All have to be disarmed to work on that part of the wiring.
And I found another ground wire going nowhere. Since it felt “light”, rather than trace it, I just yanked in back into the work area. It showed visible signs of sizzling, which was the original problem. My main circuit at the standbox would pop, but all my interior breakers under the sink were not tripped. That ground wire was, I’ll be, going directly to the intermediate box and was used to steal my power.
However, that wiring is old. Older than the 1975 spools they had stockpiled in the prefab room where I used to work. It was underground in the damp without any protection and yet the insulation was still intact. For that matter, despite a potential 40 years underground, the wire, when wiped clean, showed no sign of deterioration. How about that?
NOON
It is now quarter to four and everything is back working. I found a few missing items back there, like a Phillips stubby and a brand new steel 1/8” drill bit. A small pair of pliers, generally things that fell off the back of the workbench when it used to be there in 2012. But that’s it, I’m too pooped to whoop. You have to wiggle into the space head first and back out again backwards every time you need a tool you didn’t bring along. Exhausting work for anyone.
Avocados don’t tolerate wet. So I read the label on the Gorilla glue. Not to be used in wet or damp environments. Well what the heck is that stuff good for then? It’s failed more testes than a hipster applying for charm school. It won’t glue, it won’t last, it won’t even set without being clamped. Too bad I can’t take it back.
You are supposed to think, “My, that’s an awfully pretty bowl those peanuts are in.” Small consolation, for as I add things up, that little bit of Canadian thievery down the line cost myself and the trailer court around $700 in direct expenses. And close to three times that if we could value our time. But experience has taught me that is how Canadians rip people off. It is not enough to steal electricity, they must hurt innocent strangers down the line.
And that is not conjecture, I ‘ve seen that behavior time and again when I worked for the company. Canadians will go out of their way to shaft you, they will spend money at it if they think they can make you spend more to save yourself. And their attitude is often that the reason you don’t do it back is because you know you are not as good at it as they are. I’m not making this shit up.
I knew one Canadian who has broken into hundreds of cars because he heard that urban legend that once upon a time a junkyard man found a thousand bucks in the glove compartment of an old car. (I couldn’t really report the guy because I never saw him do it and he was a relative of a friend, but when I told him it was just a story, he’d say, “You never know, you never know.”
EVENING
Much as I detest that city for its parking policies, I scootered out to the party strip of Fort Lauderdale. After dark, I might add, no mean feat for me. There are two areas that are not old folks homes. One is at the end of Sunset Blvd, but consists mainly of tattoo parlors, expensive beachware, and cops with terribly important business to discuss with bikini-clad young women. Further south, the seaside part of Los Olas, is the happening joint.
The beach side of Las Olas is the better bet, provided you allow at least ten bucks for parking. There is no reasonable bus service or alternatives, Fort Lauderdale is all about gouging tourists for money. In that stretch, I saw at least four bands setting up, although I was too early in the evening to stick around for the show. There is also no way to get to the beach conveniently without cross steel grate bridges. Some have a concrete strip which a reasonably competent two-wheel driver can navigate, but the ones in Fort Lauderdale don’t go across the entire gap. Figure that one out.
I poked in as is custom at the Parrot, over at the Sunset end. I must look like a musician, as a table of blond gals asked me if I was going to play for them. I looked, and assure them I was off duty. Now, their daughters, okay. It was just nice to see real blonds. They were from Minnesota. There are no real blonds in South Florida. The only thing Florida has, according to Dave Barry, is Riboflavin in most food products.
This photo is not from Florida. In fact, it is from Idaho in 1993. That is Lake Coeur d’Alene, and I wish there had been such a thing as a job there. I would have stayed forever. Not only that, this was unknowingly the last time I was ever there. At the time, I was only going to drive to Everett, not stay away forever. My lady friend is the one in the green bikini just stepping out of the picture on the right, closest to the camera. I didn’t swim that day, the water was chilly.
ADDENDUM
Silver and Army Group South. That’s the combination for this evening’s wrap-up think-things-over-report. (I’m fully aware of the angle that the German attack was pre-emptive because Soviet intentions were both known and evident. What’
Army Group South is the right hook of the armies Hitler sent against the Soviets in 1941. Yeah, yeah, he wanted land. But only as far as the Ukraine, where there were already a lot of German influences and the Ukraine was more anti-Russian than it is today. What about the much-pointed-out Caucasian oil fields? Hitler never really needed them until the banksters got the US into the war. And the theory that Germany wanted to “conquer the world” was always hogwash.
But Army Group south bears extra study. The propagandists make big sales about the millions of Soviet prisoners taken by the Germans. In fact, so many, the Germans had no way to look after them. They needed all the German food and trucks to keep the fight going, so it is obvious the millions of soldiers in the area took the Germans themselves by surprise.
If Stalin, as later claimed, was the champion defender of Moscow, why were the bulk of Soviet troops, armor, and airplanes stationed in the Ukraine, with one fortress way out at Sevastopol? Why so many hundreds of miles from the stated center of operations? And why did the Germans slice through them like butter until they reached the old Stalin line positions?
Because Hitler knew they were positioned as an invading force, poised to grab southern Europe and it’s warm-water ports. Hitler also knew the Soviet army was the largest in the world and was rapidly mechanizing. Hitler knew he could not wait until 1943 or 1944 to attack. The Soviets had planned that Germany would be bled to death again by then in a repeat of the trench warfare of the First World War and were waiting their turn. Read your communist history. That’s who wanted world domination. This is just information, none of this is new thinking.
Still saying silver price manipulation is a theory? Take a look at Kitco. The demand has quadrupled, but prices remain at $15.80. Hence, there is no silver to be had, but everyone wants to buy at spot. If they offered $31.60 I’d sell, but “spot” is an ingrained mental fixation in the mind of the precious metal dealer.
And an idée fixe it will remain until a currency collapses somewhere. Now is not the time to sell.
Last Laugh
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