November 12, 2015

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 12, 2014, navigation becomes ho-hum.
Five years ago today: November 12, 2010, double occupancy, the scam.
Six years ago today: November 12, 2009, Yoiks!, Zoikers!
Nine years ago today: November 12, 2006, on small lot sizes.

MORNING
           The fact is, nobody including myself around here knows very much about central Florida, to the west of Sebring and Ocala. I’ve driven through it and visited Winter Haven, but whoever heard of Fort Lonesome, Doctor Phillips, and Archer? And Bo Diddley is from Archer. The explanation is these places are three or four hours away from here and it takes a day to drive out of Florida. So right about there on the map, you get worried about making good time for the day and step on it. What? Yes, there is a town in Florida called Doctor Phillips and lots of nearly rich people live there. A suburb of Orlando it’s about 5 square miles. A third of which is water.

           The word on the street is that older motors don’t like corn alcohol gasoline. In Florida, the ratio is 10%. But how many people can give specific reasons why? I can, for the Honda motor is smaller and easier to measure. The gasohol mixture makes it run hotter. So in addition to the alcohol vapors evaporating out of the carburetors, making ether spiking mandatory after parking more than a week, that’s another reason to hate that stuff.
Ecological, my eye. It (corn monoculture) is terrible for the environment and corn on the cob is selling for a “buck-an-ear”. And now I have some sad news. Another piece of property I’ve been tracking for a while came on the market this morning at a huge discount. I saw it, called JZ, and put in a cash offer. It was a cabin in the woods, beautiful. And it sold 8-1/2 minutes before my offer went in.
           However, that will give the astute reader a good idea of how fine-tuned the market has become and how instantly we are prepared to move on a bargain. We were looking for a place when we found that one, and it telegraphs that if the right property hits the market, we are ready now. Oh, please, let the market show a dip between now and spring, and I’ll be on an acreage. With an ensuite. Here is the place I just lost. It sold in 2006 for $79,000. It just sold for $15,500.
           Wait, I’ll have to look for a better picture. The retards at Trulia have “improved” their system so that a green real estate arrow blots out the exact picture of the of property you want to see and cannot be deleted. Trulia, where do you even? It is amazing they do not, out of pity and mercy, euthanize people that stoopid at birth. Keep waiting, Mapquest is doing the same.
           This is the best I can do. The yellow arrow is mine, but at least you can see the property. Trees on three sides, nice big lot, set back from the roadway. Virtually ideal. We are zeroing in on the deals again, which is mildly encouraging since this is off season and there is usually another drop just after Xmas when nobody has any money. This property was a 1,644 square foot 3 bedroom with 2 full baths and a jacuzzi, and a fireplace, and a workshed.

NOON
           The picture is an adjustable gate hinge. Read on.
           Dang, thanks to real estate, we are broke again. Right when it is too hot to work in the daytime, let me read the remote to see exactly how hot. It is 95.4F out in the yard, so maybe that isn’t too bad. I can hear the news feeds of Trump’s critics, all singing the same song. That it will cost money to deport the millions. Fine, I’ll gladly pay my share. Not a problem. No family breakups, deport the whole lot. Like most Americans, I would not care if it really did cost the ridiculous quoted figure of $6,000 each. Pile them on school buses, and out they go.

           What part of illegal don’t they understand? Six thousand is only two months welfare and social costs. As for the children born here, give them favored treatment when they legally apply after age 18—providing they meet the same criteria as European immigrants. That is, they must have a skill that is in demand or start a real business. And no social services for the first twenty years. And end that ridiculous family sponsorship. That is their decision, let every immigrant apply on their own merits. Funny how they don’t mind family breakups when they are clawing their way in here, only when they are being kicked out.
           I like the uproar over what happens to their property. Hey, the same thing that happens to the property of other criminals. It gets seized and goes to auction. End of story. Did you get a load of that Medicaid fraudster claiming she can’t hire a defense attorney because the government seized the money she stole? Gee, sounds like a familiar complaint from millions of other criminals. Fraud doesn’t make her a special case.

           But my favorite is the people who say the illegals have been here so long they are no longer illegals. In that case, let’s amnesty anyone who robbed a bank or killed their wife long enough ago. Trump should start pointing out which people are aiding and abetting criminals. This gave me lots to think about as I worked in the heat all day. The camper box is done, the rails barely work, they are not easy to slide in and out, but I’ll wait until I find somebody who knows how it is done.
           Another gallon of peach tea and this time, I know what to focus on, so the work went eight times faster. While I may not even bother painting the interior a nice color, the surfaces that face the weather have six coats. Two primer, one anti-mildew, one undercoat, and two overcoats. Now the new fence the trailer court put in has a big gate, so I closely examined the hinges. Nice, they are a type of bolt that is adjustable for any amount the gate would sag over time. That’s what I want.
           These are what I want for the “shutters” at the back of the trailer. These swing open to give me privacy on egress. When getting in, I can usually time it when nobody is looking. But getting out is tricky. I swear, some people sit there and wait for you to wake up.

NIGHT
           An early night, dark by 6:00PM. I had wanted to run some extra tests on the camper, These will be necessary because this version is not waterproof. It is designed to channel water away from the joints and if I’m aware of inclement weather, to snap on a plastic tarp to cover the inner sleeping compartment. I crawled in there to test if for size. Like the original, it is surprisingly comfortable and I fell asleep inside it until nearly 7:30PM.

           I may also make a custom tarp for the motorcycle. There is a trade-off there. Any tarp heavy enough to do the job is too heavy on the windscreen. I either device a brace, which is cumbersome, or I notch out my existing tarp to only cover the sidecar and chassis. But the camper, any tarp or any kind will do. The hatch swivels up to allow me to sit comfortably on the tailgate if a day storm hits. In the old model, I had to crawl inside or not at all. Did I get soaked in Winter Haven last year or what!
           This is something for me to ponder because on my leg through John Day, there were some pretty frost mornings. I had the butane heater, the portable one I keep here for the odd chilly winter day. Very few Florida houses have a furnace or heater of any kind. Anyway, I found that even with a crisp wind, the heater was able to create a pocket of nice heat in the open. I could move around shirtless long enough to get organized even a few degrees below freezing.
           That made me realize the logic behind these other “off the ground” campers that have a small “dressing room” arrangement where the occupant can stand completely upright. That’s the arrangement on the left side of this photo. But I do not like tent campers. They look like tents, they are flimsy, and only two experts can set thing up in the short times advertised and only then with no wind or rain. Mine, you slide it out, you open the hatch, you get in, you close the hatch.
           But if I had a canopy, it provides the option to sit rather than recline. Give me a rainstorm and a good book and I’m in paradise. The precedence of this camper, however, remains strictly a quiet, comfortable sleeper. My cost so far in new materials is about $115 or two nights in an iffy motel. While their canopy is integral, you cannot set it up without it, mine is optional, it is more like an awning.

ADDENDUM
           Trivia, it says here a 9-year-old Canadian girl dying of cancer wrote the author of Harry Potter asking how it ended. Rowlins named a character in the book for her. Isn’t that nice, a wizard named “Leukemia”. And who of us remembers first year psychology? Show of hands. Okay, but the rest of you probably should not be here. My point is, remember, how creepy those books were to a teen? You read it and figure, “Oh my God, that’s me!”
           Well, I found one of the texts. I’m only on page 159, but I’ve determined I have or am guilty of the following:

           ECHOLALIA, the repetition of the last words heard. (Yeah, well up yours too, buddy.)
           ALETHIA, the dwelling on past events. (This blog, every day. Years now.)
           HEBEPHRENIA, a constant silly grin. (It’s part of my public persona, Jeb.)
           ASOCIAL, lack of interest in other people. (So now it’s my fault they’re boring.)
           ERGOPHOBIA, the fear of work. (Constantly. You have no idea.)

           But if you think my self-diagnosis is severe, check out the Deland real estate. That super-ultra-paranoid doofus from Daytona is listing his house again. Nobody will buy it because the guy is a totally whack-o civil servant type. That’s the guy who goes ballistic demanding to know everything about you before he’ll tell you anything. Same guy who was screaming, “I’ll find out who you are!” when I hung up on him last year. He answers his phone with a pen and checklist, starting off by stipulating you state your date of birth. Good luck, you jerk.
           And I don’t buy properties whose address includes MLFK Boulevard. (MFLK = Martin Luther King.) I also have an aversion to “Lemon Street”, okay?


Last Laugh

(Horseshoes. He cheated.)

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