November 25, 2015

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 25, 2014, the Packard Museum.
Five years ago today: November 25, 2010, on face recognition.
Nine years ago today: November 25, 2006, me, “high maintenance”?
Random years ago today: November 25, 2002, on how scams work.

MORNING
           During our jaunt to Bartow, I picked up on an ad for a place in Mulberry. I know, I’ve never heard of it either. It is nine miles west of Bartow, toward Tampa. In keeping with my other guidelines, this was something of interest if only because it met 90% of my criteria. I don’t want to live in the middle of nowhere, but somewhere near the outskirts of nowhere is fine. The problem is, the real estate agent was one of those snarfs who won’t print the price or address, so I could not locate this until I got back home to this computer.

           Here it is, and the asking price is $25,000. They won’t get it. It’s three bedroom, two bath, but notice how this picture makes it look like it is set back on a private stretch of rural property. Nope, the satellite shows it in town, surrounded by neighbors in such a way that this photo had to be carefully posed. Still, it is a contender. Damn rights I’d live there.
           And isn’t that a storybook name, “Mulberry”? Aw, I can already smell the apple pie. Back to business, I’m spending the day locked inside the house doing the books and running the numbers. We could buy this place now, you know. When I say we, I mean I, but there can be little doubt once we arrive it will be very short order before we have a second place.
           The economy around Bartow is not that lively but still, it is an economy and that’s more than can be said for the area around Miami. I will never consider tourism to be an “industry”. Taking the side roads, we saw a number of citrus fruit canning and packing operations. We noted a number of street names that hinted at mining operations. Bartow is south of but still within that Tampa to Orlando corridor.
           Meanwhile, back here, the city has begun construction on that brand new civic center behind my place, and the price of my little trailer just doubled again. I overpaid for this place, but then, I had to move in. I don’t have to move out, so as that center gets higher, so might the asking price for this old joint. A year ago I would have stalled on even replacing that water heater, now that is slated for within a week, maybe two. This place is perfectly cozy for a single do-nothing person, of which we have aplenty. It is just too small for me and the things I do..

NOON
           As we passed Lake Placid on the way, JZ pointed out this structure. I’ve seen it before, considering it a microwave tower. Nope, he says at one time it was the tallest building in Florida. Known as the Citrus Tower, it hoisted visitors up to view the orange orchards for a radius of 14 miles. The sign said “Open” but the area at the base of the building said look but don’t touch.

           Here is a still from through the truck window. The observation booth is at top, the microwave antennas are “festooned” a little higher than half-way up, near the midsection. Behind this tower is the picturesque Lake Placid. That town is much too small for me to consider, I am very leery of places where there is nothing to do all day. It’s different when you have no choice, that doing nothing is your option, not the town’s.
           We mulled (mullberried? Ha, ha) the option to stay over and make a bigger tour of the countryside, but instead drove the eleven miles to Winter Haven. That town is nice although you get $200,000 condos across the street from $2,000 skid shacks. Before we left we drove up and down almost every road in the nicer areas of Bartow and found it to be unattractive overall. I’ll try to get you more photos of the trip, and that’s real photos, not touristy claptrap. We were on a shopping trip, not holidays.

           By that, I mean it follows my old formula. All the activity takes place on the outbound leg. Then a high-speed dash home where 100% of the talk is money and women. Once again, we find that my application of a strict budget means I am ready to proceed now, while others, no names mentioned, are still “milling around at the crossroads”. So, I don’t find Bartow to be my retirement paradise, the point is, when I find something now, I’m ready to pounce. Everybody has had years of notice, so no, I will not wait for anyone to catch up.
           Here is a mystery box encountered in a pawn shop in Okeechobee. This is the same place with the gramma-phone dictation machine, that weird coin sorter, and the working 1940s coca cola machine. My notion is that this is or was some sort of aircraft device, possibly a hand-held rangefinding machine with some pieces missing. It isn’t clear to see but that is a long shiny metal tube atop the black box. If you know, leave a comment.

AFTERNOON
           Now that we know the way, maybe a second trip to the area is in order. Maybe before Xmas. We opted to return through Winter Haven over Lakeland, which was in the wrong direction This time, it would be specifically to tour that hitherto unknown stretch along that projected high-speed rail corridor. Around a year ago you may have heard my mention that all the houses for sale appeared to be on the north side of that route. The area has been settled a lot longer than Miami and consequently the average house age appears to be a good 30-40 years older.

           Here’s a steam engine. No, not a locomotive, but a firebox and boiler on wheels. JZ was delighted by the contraption, me not so much since I’ve seen the real thing in operation on the farm when I was a kid. You shovel coal or anything that can burn into the rear (left-side) firebox, and the tubes through the boiler to the chimney (actually a “smokestack”) on the right boils the water.
           Then you flip one of those large flywheels on top to get the thing running that tiny piston dead center on the “roof”. On the other flywheel, you have huge drive belt connected to some machine, like a bailer or thresher. Hot, sweaty, tedious work. I’d still like to see the museum soon.
           In the yard, they set up the 1920s jail. The other side is just clipped off in this photo. It is literally the iron cage you see here. Inside, exposed to the elements, natural and man-made, it would still serve a purpose today for people who advertise condos and mobile homes without land in the real estate section. They are too stupid to understand real estate means land and too inconsiderate to advertise someplace else. Around 20% of my time is wasted eliminating those ads from my search results.

           To stress this was a business trip, a major topic en route was the original plan. It was to get a fixer-upper. My position, which is written down I would add, while it has evolved, has not changed. JZ wants to spend more money initially for a place in “better shape”. Ah, but that means more cash up front. I feel what he is not considering, or is considering the wrong way, is that after the purchase, I have a budget for materials to improve the place.
           His plan would eat up all available capital for the purchase itself, leaving everything else, even the taxes, unfunded. I can’t do that, and I don’t think it is proper that he take such a chance either. We have all the major tools needed to buy one property to live in, and a second to fix up and flip. I am not the only person in my demographic that is seeking a retirement cabin or cottage in preference to one of those monstrous cookie-cutter subdivisions full of old people on golf carts.
           I vote to stick with the plan that we buy a place that “needs $10,000 worth of painting”. Of course you will never get a transcript of the meeting so I’ll tell you the two sides and you can imagine why two hours later nothing is resolved. JZ takes the valid position that when we began, the $10,000 for “paint” was speculation but now the money is there. As he puts it, he’s heard lots of people brag that they would retire this way and until now this is the only time he’s actually seen it. Therefore the temptation is to turn the $10,000 into instant equity and come what may, he says we have money and they don’t.
           I’m of the tack my plans are in writing and it is unrealistic to say they are out of date just because the money now physically exists. I contend that my plan is highly evolved that alone explains why it treats the arrival of money is nothing more than the next phase. And that phase is that the $10,000 is for materials. That as soon as we get off our backsides and get some work done, it will become worth far more. I too, have heard lots of people talk BS. But how come, I ask, are we not surrounded by like-minded (like-monied?) people who could give us some bona fide good advice? Gotcha!
           The overriding concept is that I can buy my own place and it is the second place that gets the attention. Neither of us can do the second place independently. And that is why we drove all the way into Miami y’day before anybody noticed we had missed Ft. Lauderdale completely.

EVENING
           More information comes in about Mulberry. It’s 33 miles from Tampa, too far to commute for anything. I’m tending to think of it as more of a community than a town. Trivia, it was ten years ago last Monday that I bought my first scooter. Since I was a teen, I meant. Yes, I had a Honda 90, but it is not like I got it for a birthday present or anything. It cost $415 new. If I had known the conditions, I would have never accepted it.

           And you get a picture of some quinces. I’ve never tried these, I was on my way to the pharmacy. I’m not waiting in some dang checkout lineup over something called a quince. The photo is here because it looks good. Like I would do with my young slim girlfriend—IF I HAD ONE!!!
           I spent an hour making a 30-second demo of my bass style. The problem is always the software people trying to get your dollar, which rarely works with me. The reason is I don’t download software unless it is advertised as free. And I don’t like it when some lying Millennial scum says free and then hits you with some lame scam. In particular, this is the old video conversion that stops after 75% of your file is processed. So you have to make the file around 30% longer—I mean is the guy so stupid he thinks you won’t figure that out?
           His position is clear, he wants money. But he’s not getting any from me because he’s a lying bastard. Free means free for nothing. I partially blame others, for instance, the new tablet records in a format that is difficult to convert to AVI or WMV files, which my editing equipment handles. This is not progress or improvement. The final videos look exactly the same as those made five and ten years ago. Zero improvement. Software should be required by law to be backward compatible by each manufacturer or your money back.
           Therefore, I am not stealing. You said free and I’m merely making it so. No matter whose side anyone takes on that argument, you started it. Programming is good, lying is not.

ADDENDUM
           Time for a reminder that this blog accepts but rarely publishes comments. If you want to make contact, post a comment with information. But the chances of any such event are remote. Put another way, it (a contact) has never happened yet. And this blog in a sense goes back 36 years. There is also a blanket policy against blog-humping. That’s where you write me sayin you like this blog hoping that I will link back saying I like your blog. First, this blog disapproves of Facebook and of people who use Facebook and such Facebook-like activity. Second, this blog is so far beyond any such nonsense that you can forget silly games.
           PopSci, Mad Magazine, Forbes, you would get through. But a stamp-collecting blog from Argentina, well, I don’t believe you are my regular customer. In fact let me check. Yep, I’ve only ever had one click from Argentina. And it was a blog-hump. Sorry Pablo.
           And this newspaper, the Washington Post, has sunk to a new low. I knew there was some reason I’ve only read that paper once or twice in my life. Anyway, they appear to be pushing the angle that one of their reporters has a “disability”, and therefore what he reports, even when intentionally false, cannot be criticized without the publication turning it into an assault on the bozo. Where have we seen this nonsense before?


Last Laugh
(Wait for it.)


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