Search This Blog

Yesteryear

Monday, February 29, 2016

February 29, 2016

Yesteryear
Four years ago today: February 29, 2012, Account 1020, Texas bus fare.
Eight years ago today: February 29, 2008, on JZ & real estate.
Twelve years ago today: February 29, 2004 there was no post.
Sixteen years ago today: February 29, 2000 there was no post.

MORNING
           Today, mostly editorial. It’s now a confirmed issue, somebody is buying up all the worthwhile property in central Florida. Of the 34 houses listed in Bartow last Friday, and this is “nothing Bartow”, all but four tear-downs in the east side have been sold. Somebody is on to something and it is just my luck they are doing it now. Pardon me, it was 37 houses.
           The tornado that took out Fred’s tree was a doozie. It set down in his yard, then skipped a block and tore into the same spot on the next street. Nothing else touched. Fred lives just behind of those massive freeway noise barriers, so the funnel must have come perpendicularly onto his land. They were home at the time and only heard leaves rustle, then a wood cracking sound for only a moment. This is the only picture I’ve got, you can just make out where he trimmed all the roots. What a mess.

           First issue is the motorcycle. My mechanic gave me the lecture about the throttle cable. He’s aware of my dismay at the $800 flat tire of 2015 and now this cable on a Super Bowl weekend when I was all ready to meet some rich gals in Coral Gables. He says not only is the batbike in excellent shape, he confirms the motor is in primo condition. He knows I’ve talked of replacing the Goldwing with a newer bike with lower mileage, but he says that is not an issue.
           Why? Because he reports that every Honda from that era of motorcycle that he’s seen has had the speedometers turned back. Unlike a car, it requires an expert to tell, plus he says a lot of times, the user merely disconnects the speedometer cable for 50,000 miles. Getting to money, he further adds if it was his batbike, he would keep it, that in the long run it will require only a third of the money required to upgrade to a newer Goldwing.
           What’s more, he pointed out all the things that have gone wrong except the alternator were small electrical jobs, brake pads, really minor repairs nowadays. I have to think about this, because if the electrical is the only nagging problem, it is not that bad. The batbike can always be push-started. My gut reaction is to trust the mechanic who has done 100% of the work on this machine.

Wiki picture of the day.
Pot-bellied pigs.

NOON
           Here is a picture of the clothespins being made, I promised the picture and here she be. These are missing the springs, but I was curious to learn this basic model of clothespin as never been improved or superseded by any other design since the day of its invention. And I already forget when that was, so look it up yourself. I’m lazy today, drinking tea, and eating Russian cookies. The kind with nothing but ingredients. Real ingredients don’t need anti-caking agents.
           Notwithstanding anything in the budget discussion below, I believe it is time to revamp my retirement plans. Due to my condition in 2010, it was a toss-up I’d last this long, but I do believe I will now live to 65 and beyond. And all my plans along that direction were necessarily iffy. I’ve seen several turns of events that tell me an ordinary will, with provisions for an executor, may not be ideal in my situation. What I’ve seen is many states enacting legislation that seizes assets, like safe deposit boxes, unless the claimant can produce an array of uncommon documents.
           Hence, I’m now looking into a trust. Why? Well, I’ve noticed that lawyers keep everything in trusts. Even the law office is often owned by a trust. I’m not sure of the implications yet, but it won’t take long. I’ve received checks from trusts that were in no way connected to the underlying transaction, so that means trusts can have bank accounts. That’s all I need to know for now. Remember, I’m as good with other people’s money as my own. If I live to be 65, I’m back in business.

           I just received a notice from my bank about the circumstances under which they can close or seize your account. Well, American, you complacent bastards had it coming. The money is not really yours anymore, and everything, right down to transaction level is attached to your social security number and can be given to anybody who claims to be a credit bureau, whether or not you have any business or contact with such outfits. The bank state that they “need to share customer’s personal information to run their everyday business”. They didn’t used to, but it seems now they do.
           The banking establishment needs a Donald Trump. I’ve often said somebody needs to open a “real bank”. One that keeps people’s real money in the vault (or a vault) and somehow gets around the regulation of letting the entire government know who has an account. There must be some regulation that makes such a business not a bank, and thus into a money storage place. Maybe not making loans? Charge the people a storage fee for the money, say? You’d have ten thousand customers in no time, so twenty bucks a month seems reasonable.
           But this notice today was scary. You can’t close the account if they even “think” you have anything outstanding, or any legal action that is even “pending”, They can place a “hold” on your account for any reason, but continue to charge you bank fees. Yes folks, America needs a new banking system that caters to people who have cash legitimate cash. Because the Constitution does not grant the federal government the right to peek into people’s banking affairs. That is akin to searching your personal papers.

AFTERNOON
           One thing about the Trump campaign, it has made me aware of television show hosts. I have never watched one of these shows in my life (ever), but I like the outtakes over Trump. Like this John Oliver, who has a real talent for twisting things around backward. I know, I can do it myself whenever something says I’m too harsh or judgmental Really? Anyway, these talk shows have one thing in common when they malign the Donald over his former stance on items like abortion and gun control.
           They don’t take into account that Trump has never been a professional politician and does not have a lengthy history of toeing the party line. He has not been groomed for years to take only non-committal postures on everything in case one day he is the victim of a media commentator. Like most of us, Trump's opinions will change over time as new information replaces the old. So these blabmongers are having a field day, but it is really over nothing.
           Possibly John Oliver (who looks like a real-life Dilbert) expects people to hold the same opinions throughout their entire lives or he will dispense his wrath. (I know people who do [hold the same opinions forever], but they have cut off their access to new information. No names, Ken.)
           It’s example time. What are my top three opinions that have changed from what I said years ago to what I say today.

           A) Top of the list must be my incredibly naïve youthful concept that if I made the same money as those around me, but didn’t get into any vices, that I would eventually come out ahead of the pack. I could have married for money twice. By the time I learned better, the opportunities were gone.
           B) I used to think war and fighting were patriotic and full of bravery and glory. I read every Sgt. Rock comic I could and supported the Viet Nam war. Today, I’m ashamed of what happened and a total isolationist pacifist.
           C) No way would I play country music. I felt music’s purpose was to elicit emotions, so anyone who would intentionally listen to anything that made them depressed had mental problems. Today, I still shy away from the worst, but love country that pokes fun (Boy Named Sue) or teaches a lesson (Here’s A Quarter).

           According to Mr. Oliver, these complete changes mean I was either lying then or lying now. That’s the only dichotomy possible in his manner of thinking. Worse, I know I would change my posture on 50 other things if I decided I wanted to get elected, because, like Trump, it’s just not something I had geared up for not that long ago. And the audience laughs when he says such things, that spunky guy. Shucks, there goes any hope of my running in 2020.

NIGHT
           I likely never said, but part of my regular e-mail group dates back to the early 1990s, where somehow arose the habit of exchanging what we had for Sunday breakfast. Note by fritter picture from last day. I now make a confession. I cannot make poached eggs. I’ll eat them in a restaurant, but make them at home? It’s not something I can do right or learn to do. Do you think maybe as a child I was scared by a huge poached egg? If so, I’ve repressed the memory until I ever hear of any egg I knew getting rich enough to accuse of something.
           I’ve further decided not to bother with the meet-ups at Miami Labs. The session I was following was the Tinker Tank, which purports to hold meetings on subjects like UAVs. You can learn a lot about such a club by watching their correspondence, and it is another Nova circus. Last minute cancellations, few repeat members, and dominated by mid-30-ish hobbyists who fly drones. You can pretty much imagine where every conversation leads: my drone is bigger than yours.

           They never seem to post any of the questions that a serious builder (software or hardware) would benefit from outside help. I may attend one meeting as an observer to see if they have any of the tools or if they are just another discussion group. I don’t want another Nova, where after years of perfect attendance, I was the only one who actually built anything.
           Another reason I may attend is because they are not really in the Miami Labs building, but in an old garage in the same district. That’s a bit of a departure from Nova, where nobody liked to roll up their sleeves or do homework between meetings. You cannot build a robot if you only have to show up every 30 days. And often if you do show, it’s because you didn’t get the memo. Did you see the survey that indicates Facebook addicts actually get stoopider over time?
           Oh, and the map to get to the address? The streets and background color are the same. You cannot read the map on a regular computer. How retarded is that? Even semi-illiterate people know it is difficult to even think of such ignorant situations.

ADDENDUM
           Leap year is special budget review day around here. This time, everything is in order, so I got the day off. But certainly, you’ll want me to share the highlights of the review, since those who don’t believe in budgets must have the dickens of a time figuring out how I have and do more things than people with five times my income. No names mentioned.
           Start with coffee. For years, my budget for coffee has rested at $120 per month. Now that the bakery is gone, the allocation remains, unspent. And there are few things a “credit-brained” person has more difficulty with than unspent money. Instead of me rushing out and using it as a down payment on some other on-going commitment, it kind of just sits there, accumulating. The bakery closed in December, was it, so I don’t have to count the money, there will be about $360 sitting there.
           I spent a few dollars on the new coffeemaker, although I took that out of petty cash, and the two packs of coffee came out of groceries. So yeah, there will be $360 I should find a productive use for. Tell you what, you spend it, but here are the conditions. You must spend it all, any surplus will be considered money you never needed, no down payments but a cash purchase only, cannot be invested, cannot be used for any vice and should result in some net ongoing beneficial situation.

           Sound tough? Not at all. I do need a laptop. I could send it to Marion, but I just gave her a handsome Xmas present. I’ve thought of Harbor Freight, however I already spent my allowance over there. You see, living a month ahead instead of behind puts you in command. If I don’t spend it at all, by next month there will be $480 there, which is my train ticket and hotel to the Smithsonian, right there. See how that works, Theresa? “Disposable income” all over the damn place, but only if you do things my way, which, in your case anyway, will never happen.
           Don’t conclude it was always so, I had my bout of being poor. The first few years out of university were living hell. I had been jolted by university because it was only after I got there that I realized I was the poorest kid on campus. How do you suppose I felt hitchhiking to school and being picked up by some guy my own age in a late model sports car who was proud of the fact he’d never worked a day in his life? I realized early on that unless I hit some jackpot, the best I could ever do is make it to the starting line.
           But I had plenty of experience around people who had no clue how to manage money. I watched them live paycheck to paycheck and consider that sort of life as “normal”. I was raised to believe that the only way to happiness was to go out and get a good job, though that was generally coming from people who had failed to follow their own advice. You know who you are.

           I consider money management a necessity. That makes me the odd man out just about everywhere. I know this last month, I bought groceries 14 times, bought 17 newspapers, and had breakfast at a café 14 times. Never once did I have to pause to think or count if I had “enough” money. Yet I necessarily spent probably half as much as the next guy. That, grasshopper, is how it is done.


Last Laugh
Like a pro.


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

Sunday, February 28, 2016

February 28, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 28, 2015, the disappointing jet-set.
Five years ago today: February 28, 2011, bye, Pudding-Tat.
Nine years ago today: February 28, 2007, dead battery? $40 please . . .
Random years ago today: February 28, 2005, the pay is $5/year.

MORNING
           There is something about Sunday mornings and good cooking. If we can agree on that, let me say that I will never, ever, not in a million years, even if you pay me, go back to cooking on a wood stove. Forget it, it ain’t gonna happen. Over my dead body. Having said that, I am from Texas, so should I win the lottery, there is a good chance I would never set foot in a restaurant again. Here’s Sunday biscuits and fritters. The secret ingredient is the lack of ingredients. Same dough, two different flavor sensations. And you missed it.
           If you ever wanted to build your own rail gun, here is the parts list. This is one of the latest and most dangerous of weapons—though instructions on how to build a crossbow have been removed from the Internet. For all the talk you hear of rail guns, nobody has come up with a way to generate enough electricity for one single shot. Nuclear power plants are not quite big enough and it isn’t easy finding objects that don’t self-melt from air friction a few hundred feet from the barrel. I’ve seen the videos, they seem fake to me.
           I was looking forward to a movie music weekend on the oldies radio station. Instead, I get fed what seems to be black movie history. What’s with that? Don’t white people make any movies? This is not even like equal time, the whole weekend so far has been solid jungle-disco rap. I don’t like that kind of music except in old Tarzan movies. Saying so is not going to win me the democratic nomination, but I don’t like jazz, be-bop, or electric guitar music either. So I also won’t move to New Orleans, or go crazy, or die advertising for a band on Craigslist either.

           To Harbor Freight. This time for tool blades, sanding belts, and what-nots. Having a bargain tool outfit just two miles up the road changes everything. The only thing missing is coffee shop next door, but I’ll scout the area while up there. I’m finding I can’t work on the cPod without it being connected to the ball hitch. Getting the drawer glides to work right is a job for an expert. I need the bulk of the motorcycle to hold the camper still while I work the parts. At a third the weight of the old camper, this one easily upends on the axle if you even lean on the tailgate.
           There are tons of instructional videos on installing side drawer glides, but I’m still searching for one that explains how to do it when you don’t have the option of removing the drawer. When you can’t turn the piece on its side at a convenient height. I tried placing spacers under the box, then carefully aligning the rails. When the spacers are removed (so the drawer will slide), it seems the box should now operate easily on the rails. Nope. The slightest tug moves the whole camper backward.
           It will work, but it has to be held firmly at the front end. I have nothing to do that with except a motorcycle. But I do need something to secure the camper when I’m not around, so give me some time to ponder that situation. A ton of concrete with an old trailer hitch out the side, that would work.

Wiki picture of the day.
Duck and Cover
(10 minute video)

NOON
           This flu has not stopped me from hitting the books and I’m happy to report a mini-breakthrough. You want to know more about celestial navigation, I can tell. How you’ve followed along for what, over a year now, awaiting each announcement. Well, you are out of luck, because although I’ll write about what I’ve found and my conclusions, if you want to learn it, you are on your own.
           What it is this time is four of my books say or leave the impression that any map containing your position is good enough, but the fifth book devoted an intense chapter that your chart must have a specific location at dead center. I thought the writer was being picky. Until I was doodling through the problem of how I got to Chimbote, Peru. True, that was due to a single error, but that error was early in the process. How did I work my way through the entire calculation without being tipped off something was awry?

           Got it. That point on your chart has to be the Assumed Position, or AP. It is not trivial because it is assumed, rather it is what determines the accuracy of the remainder of your calculations. The Almanac is not an all-inclusive reference book, it’s purpose is those APs. Think of it this way, the book knows where those APs, are, it doesn’t know which one you are closest to. That explains why you go through hoops to find the closest one you can, but that is another topic.
           Result? Now, as long as I have a map, I can use a sextant to determine how far away I am from any spot on the planet. In real life, I only care about how far I am from Texas. This is a giant step forward from calculating your position on the globe. Codicil—you must be in a location where the sun, at some point of the day, appears directly over your direction from where I’m standing. Or precisely 180° opposite. I believe I could do this even if the sun is below the horizon where you are.
           Fascinating, I say, especially if I ever have to find an island in the ocean. And it makes it easier to find a cabin in the woods than it is to find the money to buy one.

           I’m also aware that there is room for another beginner’s book, or booklet really, on navigation. But written from the standpoint of somebody without access to good sources and, importantly, from an author who doesn’t use the book to demonstrate his expertise. For example, not one of my books explains you can forget the stars and navigate all you want using only the Sun. Lack of this knowledge led me to believe I had to progress past the Sun to be adept. Wrong. I now consider teachers who pull that stunt to be on a par with guitar teachers who say one must “progress” to jazz. It simply is not true.


AFTERNOON
           I clicked on the news feeds to watch the Trump make even more [in my opinion] statements from this blog. Well, not him personally, but you’d think whichever of his people is whispering in his ear would at least make some attempt at changing my wording. I’m still amused that nobody is running for president any more, they are all running against Trump. The establishment is running scared and making asinine statements like American being “in danger of being taken over by a con artist”. Hmmm, if Trump is a con man, just what would you have to label the Clintons and the Bushes?
           Or how about the media plugging the “victory” of Hillary over Bernie. What victory? Between them they haven’t a third of the support of Trump. I believe Trump has so badly eviscerated the establishment that he may run as an independent. It’s near the point where he has no other choice. Remember, he only said he would not do that if they gave him a fair shake. That is most certainly not going to be on their agenda. Their establishment asses have been painfully kicked to a pulp.
           It’s a given Trump is against businesses relocating in Mexico, but instead of totally blaming Ford and Carrier, he could point out it was the unfavorable business climate created by his opponents in the establishment that fomulgated the conditions that caused them to pull up stakes. I’m saying I doubt many people really think these big companies moved overseas explicitly to put Americans out of work. And those tariffs are going to make American made products unbelievably expensive in the short run.
           Still, whoever out there is using this blog for source material, at least give me some of the credit. Yes, you are free to use it on that basis, and changing the odd word is not what I’m referring to when I say there is a pattern to what you are doing. I had a check mark on my calendar which day the Donald would begin pushing the fact that even if not elected, he’s “altered the political landscape”, which you changed to “changing the playing field”. My contention was not the phrase, but how I knew which day he’d say it. Yesterday.

NIGHT
           I just had a thought. Actually, several thoughts, starting with the Arduino. It’s been a while now I’m been seeking a solution to the problem of the near impossibility of knowing what is on an Arduino microcontroller. But maybe I am looking at the problem from the wrong direction. I’d considered everything from a view screen (rejected because it uses too many pins) to a single LED spelling something in Morse (would stump most users). Then it hit me, what is the reason you would load something up to an Arduino and forget what was there? Ah, to see if the code works.
           What do you need to see that? Usually some kind of circuit board with flashing lights or feedback of some nature. Hardware. Have I not often pointed out that there is nothing new or novel about C+ code? What we need is an on-screen Arduino simulator. Let me think this over. The only output on an Arduino is a digital 0V or 5V. Ah, you say, there are a dozen simulators already. Yeah, try using one. Like when I started, they address the wrong problem. However, I will work through all the offerings in case there is something out there that actually works.
           What I have in mind is something like the old BASIC testers, but with a graphic of the Arduino which lights up the output LEDs as the program steps through the code line by line as you tap the space bar.

ADDENDUM
           You know one thing I’d do if I had the money? Commission a new series of real documentaries that were so superior to the chintzy “docutainment” crap that is out there that none of them would survive. Instead, the Internet is stuffed full of weak productions that stretch ten minutes of material into an hour of even weaker video. Find me a documentary on anything from writing to armor to ships, and I can pretty much spell out for you exactly what is going to be shown and in what order.
           True, documentaries are not research meant to portray new discoveries. But the past twenty years have spawned a cheap-ass variety, not to be endured. It’s like somebody has brainwashed all the last two generations into accepting these sorry excuses for documentaries as something new and progressive. Wrong, documentaries since around 2006 are all the same format. Two minutes of actual footage, maybe, in every fifteen minutes of commentary. I mean, does anybody really care what time a scientist work up that morning, or how long it took herto drive to work? See what kind of sorry crap they put you through.
           I’m suggesting people just might want to watch documentaries for information about an unfamiliar topic. And not to be constantly exposed to other peoples insecurities and the way they inject their petty concerns, like feminism and sexism, into what is supposed to be at least attempting scientific discourse, at the least.


Last Laugh


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

February 27, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 27. 2015, farm-raised?
Five years ago today: February 27. 2011, coffee & lemon cake.
Nine years ago today: February 27. 2007, pedal to the metal rescue.
Random years ago today: February 27. xxxx, WIP

MORNING
           Another generic sick day. So you can compare to what happens on your days off. But try not to forget, there will be a point in your own life after which every day is precious enough to write down.
           Nothing could be simpler. The supplier finally got back to us saying they could not locate the replacement throttle cable for my Goldwing. So, I remove the old cable, take it to the shop, where we match up a cable that is too long and make a replacement. I said that funny, but you get the drift, we can always cut a cable shorter to match. But, can I take the right cable off the Honda? Apparently not.
           I surely did disconnect the wrong cable, shown here. It was the only other spring loaded cable on the carburetor, and it moved when I wiggled the throttle, so I thought I had it. As soon as I heard the little retention bracket fall, I knew it was the wrong friggen cable. And now I cannot find that bracket, but I will. Of course, it was a bitterly cold morning to work on metal parts.
           It gave all the Frenchies a chance to come over to say goodbye. I thought they were supposed to bid adieu, but all of them just said goodbye. Between my two trips to the motorcycle shop, I didn’t get my morning coffee until 11:30AM. I would have fixed this cable myself, but I do not know the technology of getting the correct bead on both ends. Try it, you’ll see what I mean. The cable has a small plug on each end, meaning it must be clamped on at the correct length after it is fed through the sheath, not before.

           And while you are admiring my handiwork, remember the drill bit sculpture? That’s my little collection of broken and built drill bits that I was just starting around this time last year. Well, lucky you, I have an update on that. See how it is coming along? This is a true original, I’ll have to enter it in the next Americana art show I stumble across.
           I’m trying to get the cPod camper finished for the upcoming motorcycle season. The best method to finish the rear “clamshell” doors appears to be the one major item I am not equipped for. Metal working. I can cut metal, but it is tedious. And the welder is still over at the clubhouse because I’m chicken to use it when alone. Actually, my fear is not unfounded, as the directions say not to work alone.

Wiki picture of the day.
Mona Lisa of the North

NOON
           Along with filling the propane bottles, I’ve investigated a series of security measures to keep people away from the tanks when mounted on the camper. The only logical spot to keep a tank is over the hitch itself, which is precisely where I want to place my bicycle mount. So the refilling the smaller cylinders is a must and I sure don’t want to store six of them inside the sarcophagus. I haven’t used propane much since I moved into this place, but I’m hardly going to forget those several months FPL left us without electric in 2005, was it.
           The canisters will be stored outside and the best security measure seems to be a rapid ticking noise that is audible when standing near the bracket. This is easy for an Arduino, maybe ten lines of code. I could probably tap it off the Arduino planned to monitor the actual output of the solar panels. If they are doing as bad a job as I suspect, then propane appliances are my second choice. I do not trust noisy, smelly, electrical generators.

           It warmed up enough to get the yard work done in the afternoon, which included laundry, trimming back the jungle, and even time for toast and coffee at the Senor, where it turns out I am practically the only one in my crowd that likes the place. Then again, I’ve lived in Venezuela, where certain culinary fussities are not an option. Oh boy, did I just coin another word. By mid-afternoon it was so pleasant, I crawled under the Goldwing and poked around until I found that clip or bracket thingee I accidentally dropped this morning.
           Whoa, one of the Frenchies has his unmarried daughter wondering around the pool. I’d place her in mid-30s, but totally Anglophobe. You get a certain amount of that in Canada. They still consider themselves part of the old French Empire. So I’ve decided to contact Trent to schedule a meetup at the coffeehouse this upcoming Wednesday. Maybe get him to bring some gals from the office on a “normal date”. I can afford normal-dating at the coffeehouse, but not the local night clubs. That’s a simple enough formula.

AFTERNOON
           Aw, lookit this little guy. He’s taken up residence against my back yard concrete wall. Or maybe it’s a she, I can’t find my insect book. Let’s have a race to see who can find the species or this spider first. I’ve seen them before over at Wally’s Folly, shown here snapped with my poor man’s macro lens. The only other clue is the web is around six feet across, though the working part is more like two square feet in the round. Got that, Patsie? I didn’t think so, but anyway.
           Hang on while I sent Trent that e-mail. I’ll leave it up to him to invite some ladies, since he’s the one who still works in an office. What? Now hold on, I said I didn’t date women where I worked if it could be avoided. But Trent seems to have no such rule and I’m okay with ladies that work in somebody else’s office. It’s up to him since it was his idea.
           Then again, I don’t usually take women to coffee shops. I go to the open mics to meet women, though I have to confess this has never been an effective tactic since I moved to Florida. The clientele at these places, once you are over 35-ish, tapers off to the, the, oh boy, what’s the standard term for age-appropriate women of limited intellect who are hopelessly stuck in the past? Anyone? You can’t say old-fashioned, although that’s a great descriptive.
           Ah, I got it. They are “New Age”. It just seems they are backward-thinking because they failed to conquer many of the cerebral challenges that constitute adult reality. Like math, physics, self-reliance, ambition, and future planning. They’ve substituted their own seat-of-the-pants outlook on life, not realizing how droll and predictable it makes them. Same with men who take that route, right Glen?

EVENING
           Ah, I just pulled some baked chicken out of the microwave. That’s baked in a sauce of what I had available. Wish I’d kept track, but it was mainly tomato sauce, skim milk, organic corn starch, flour, chicken bouillon, spices (Italian, with a hint of curry and garlic). I eat pretty well since I got off the Monsanto/Cargill pseudo-food, though probably not as well as anyone on food stamps who actually spends it on things to cook.
           At the foreign cinema, I watched “Rams” and I was only partially right about the plot. There was no government secret agenda involved, just a sheep disease called “scrapies”. Akin to mad cow disease, it also seems to be English in origin and infected animals develop severe itching that causes them to scrape against objects for relief, eventually scraping off their wool to the bare skin.
           Introduced to Iceland by imported English sheep in the 1800s, the disease is poorly understood and untreatable. The plot involves two estranged brothers with a prize breed caught between bankruptcy and the authorities. I won’t tell you the ending of the movie, because it doesn’t actually have one. Either that, it isn’t the first movie that ends when the producers run out of money.

ADDENDUM
           Meet the newest bone-head who has made my idiot list, Mundane Matt. The fat boy is such a moran (that’s m-o-r-a-n, the correct Internet spelling of “moron”) that I had to watch it once I started. That guy has to lay off the late night pizza and take a beginner’s course in civil law. No, you do not have to prove “malice” when you are defamed, you only have to prove that you suffered harm (it means financial harm) because of it.
           And the American media has been guilty of that for decades. The mainstream media has abused freedom of the press laws since the 1920s. They no longer report news, they create it and manipulate it. I’m a Libertarian, I say if a person is wrongly convicted in court, he should be able to sue the Judge, Jury, and entire prosecution team, so don’t try to convince me the big news operations didn’t have it coming.
           Freedom of the press is not the right to publish anything you please and get away with it. The intent of this protection was to ensure that (at that time) newspapers could not be sued for printing the news, which carries with it the obligation to stick to facts and truth. Interpreting the facts is not part of their job unless clear labeled as editorial, in which case, libel laws are even stricter. This is so mainly because the average journalist is neither trained nor mentally equipped to deal with complicated issues. There are shining exceptions, but according to Ann Coulter, none of them work for the New York Times.

           Anyway, if you want to see idiocy in action, watch the video. Never once does Trump actually say any of the things Matt the Moran insists he said. Trump merely says that newspapers that publish “hit articles” had better watch out. Actually, that has always been the case, but their victims have been unable to get the legal support and precedents established to seek damages. If Trump actually isn’t advocating any changes, merely the stricter application of existing law.
           I like the German system where the accused’s name cannot be published unless he is convicted, and the Bulgarian(?) system where anyone who is named is granted free equal space or time in the newspaper or television to present their counterargument. Only a Liberal thinks “free speech” grants anyone a right to broadcast lies. It is hypocritical of people like Moran Matt to go on about their freedom of speech while blasting Trump for exercising his own.

           For now, I concerned that the establishment is going to do a Kennedy on Trump. He is championing the greatest upset of an established order since the French Revolution. I suspect the only reason they have not tried to stop him that way is because for their own nefarious purposes, they co-opted all privacy in America. Now they can’t do a 1963 over again and remain anonymous. Anything they try will backfire and politicians are by nature all cowards. They are afraid to try anything on Trump because he is not a politician and he might shoot back.
           If anything happens to Trump, there will be hell to pay in this country. I can tell you which side most people would join. And this time, they mean it. This is not your 1960s college campus.


Last Laugh

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

Friday, February 26, 2016

February 26, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 26, 2015, on “perceived ability”.
Five years ago today: February 26, 2011, I diss e-books.
Nine years ago today: February 26, 2007, diabolical Sudoku.
Random years ago today: February 26, 2001, rare bus photo.

           What to do today? It’s too chilly to work on the camper and who asked for that wind? Mornings are quiet without the bakery and the Aventura library is, duh, closed on Fridays. So I’m invalided, cooped up, and just found out they no longer make the throttle cable for my Honda. That’s why I take it to a pro shop, they are going to custom make something for me. And once again, I’ll bring you the highlights of this day, even if otherwise there would not be anything of note.
           Lemme see, oh, I know. Up at HF (Harbor Freight) I took a chance on one of those el cheapo drill bit sharpeners. What a difference! It actually works. I love it, and you don’t even have to know what you are doing, a big plus in Florida. I’m more likely to bend a bit than to dull it, but I still had a half dozen that were beyond redemption. I thought.
           Then, my main music source, not specified here, announces they have chosen as the number one song of all time, Haggard’s “Momma Tried”, which I just finished putting the finishing touches on not so long ago. Pity the guitarist who thinks he’ll be the star ever trying to play that number with me. I chicken-pick the lead break on the bass. Like a pro.
           You know one stage tactic I’ll probably never use was playing the guitar over my head, or behind my head really. It was much in evidence at the concert. Not me for two good reasons. First, even my small scale bass is heavier than a guitar, and two, I don’t really have any suitable pieces of music. I have a natural avoidance for droning single-note bass tunes. So much so that I rarely even play music that has more than two consecutive same-notes. If I’ve mentioned this before, good, because I’m proud of it. The concert was full of simplistic one-note bass progressions.

Wiki picture of the day.
C. Darwin, naturalist.

           I went into the shed for some lumber and what do I find? A packet of pictures from the 80s and 90s, unscanned. I shall try to match them up with blog posts where possible, but there was zero coordination in that department so long ago. Can you imagine trying to produce a matching set while traveling overseas 5 to 6 times per year, in the days before real text and photo transfer was invented?
           Here, for example, is that blind seal in Oregon where Marion and I visited during a relaxing holiday sometime in the 1990s. Don't "vorry", that guy could find the fish food in a wink. The date on the photo is a guess. We toured the used book stores and somehow found our way to this marine research center. I think it was for research. Remind me to send this photo to Marion next letter, she’ll recollect far better than I. We stayed in a beachfront condo and it was one of the few times I let anyone else drive my Cadillac.

           The motorcycle shop is directly across from the Thrift out on Pembroke, so I had to drop in for reading material. Their selection is so-so because they pick through the donations and sell what they think you should be reading. Fat-burner diets, Harlequin romances, astrology, and fictionalized Holocaust memoirs. As I turned to leave in disgust, what do I find but two spools of “robot” wire for $6.00 each. Bonus, these sell for $58 up at Home Depot. While not full, these were the bargain of the week. Not bad, a lifetime’s supply of wire for the price of a pizza.
           Remember the donated cameras? It turns out both the internal batteries are kaput. Even my special universal charger can’t revive then long enough to see if they are worth salvaging. That’s about as technical as I got all day, this flu also puts a heavy sensation across the shoulders, much like knotted muscles. And I don’t even lift. Well, I should say I probably lift more than most jocks use their brains, but I’ll be nice.

           I not only stayed in today, I never went out for coffee—this has been known to happen. I have all the fixin’s here and lately I’ve been getting spoiled by the diner up in Lake Placid. Staying home is not bad once you learn to cook for one anyway. Actually, you learn to cook for two and invest in a lot of leftover containers. And today I had ham and green onion fritters, another of my specialties. This one does have a secret ingredient, it’s a hint of garlic powder. The green onion is more to alert the biter she’s not getting a sweet roll. Not yet, I mean.
           I was fooled for a while, these biscuits are made with lard and I had not noticed that the brand I was using came from ConAgra, which I had to cut out. They make good-tasting food, but I found out what they were using to make it so. I know it is all tested and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but I have to pass on the hydrogenated materials.

           No wonder I did not recognize the scenery in the upcoming movie about the two shepherd brothers. It is filmed in Iceland. The movie is called “Rams” and don’t let me miss that. There is something about movie plots that have real substance that I still like. Though I don’t mind a good Steven Segal pound-the-Chinks thriller now and then.
           Son of Pete, the cactus, is sprouting in the middle of the winter. I told you I could plant them things. JZ refers to this as a “friendly cactus” since the spines are pliable. Shown nearby, this is about the limit of the landscaping I’m about to do around this property. For reasons unknown, a group of five Canadian RVs showed up and took the vacant lots around me. That just might save the office this year, not that they deserve it.

           Trivia. Isn’t this Johnny Cash’s birthday? He recorded 1500 songs, y’know. The authorities aren’t telling you most of the confirmed Zika cases are among illegal immigrants. If the insiders kill Trump, I think there will be a revolution. The average Yankee now understands that we were the greatest nation the world had ever seen until they elected bad leaders who spun us into the ground.
           Don’t look at me, I am not your average Yankee, and I have been against political correctness since day one. I have been against welfare from the moment I found out where the money came from. And I’ve been an isolationist since I found out the USA has been manipulated by bankers into fighting two European world wars. And [how it] is still being used to destabilize the entire planet now running short of resources.

ADDENDUM
           One thing is certain, the world cannot continue if the rest of the planet decides they want to live like Americans. And remember, most of the world thinks like my family. If you have anything they don't, it is because you tricked them or stole it from them. Hard work is not a factor.
           At this point, you should probably do a little research into the “New World Order”. While I’m not a subscriber to that theory, you will quickly notice how it describes in some detail a master plan to dominate the planet. A tiny ruling elite living in wealth and luxury, with the rest of the world depopulated to maybe two billion slave-like minions who possess skills useful to the top echelon. The other billions will be encouraged to fight amongst themselves until only the rump remains and they “invite” the rich to restore order. A new world order.
           How do you like that word “depopulate”. I think that means you, and you, yes you, and you over there: pfft!

Last Laugh
Scarred for life.



Thursday, February 25, 2016

February 25, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 25, 2015, near mug shots.
Five years ago today: February 25, 2011, Canada medical NOT free.
Nine years ago today: February 25, 2007, only the French versions . . .
Random years ago today: February 25, 2014, programming & statistics.

MORNING
           Now I have the flu. So first thing, let’s calculate the GHA (Greenwich Hour Angle) of the sun when I got up this morning at 06h 54m 45s. That would be 280° 25.3’. Where is that, remembering that GHA is always west for Greenwich the full 360°, so no allowance for east or west. The declination is 09° 07.2’ S, meaning your latitude is contrary. This is the single spot, or GP, of the sun on the Earth if this was in the year 2014, since that is the most recent Nautical Almanac I can find.
           We are seeking the nearest or most interesting landfall to that Geographic Position. Instantly it is evident I made a mistake, since I’m showing a position approximately 50 miles west of the town of Chimbote, in Peru. In fact, the sun must be at a longitude somewhere east of Miami. This is a common type of calculation error when the sun is south of the equator but nonetheless, what do we now know about Chimbote, Peru?

           A bustling community on the north shore of a bay, with extensive farm fields in the valleys to the north and east. From a fishing village in 1942 to 138 times that size today, it appears Chimbote may be the city primarily responsible for the fishing out of the anchovy stocks. The city harbors ¾ of the fleet that overfished the Humbolt to the point of extinction. I like that word, "bustling".
           Here is a satellite of a little eatery on the east side, name’s “La Cochabambino”. Depending on slang, I take that to mean either “The Baby’s Car” or “The Baby’s Kitchen”. It sounds more Italian. It’s east on Los Angeles, and Cochabambino, here is your 15 milliseconds of fame. No on-line menu, but I think they have live music, here is a video that translates to “Cochabambino with Gray Skies”. I’m guess, the guy talks to fast with an accent.

Wiki picture of the day.
Titan, the moon.

NOON
           First things first. I got my act over to the new Harbor Freight on H’wood and had a time of it, spent all my pocket money. There's something not right about a man who can just walk in and out of Harbor Freight. Even when he should be home resting. I’m bound for staying in the rest of the because while this flu is not that bad, I look and sound like I’m about to drop. A peculiar strain, just sniffles and sneezes, but food I can taste just fine. What can I get to on my list of sick day to-dos, so I never have a boring day? I say track down why I got that navigation error this morning. That sounds like fun. Ready?
           Before I start with that, just to prove I was [really at] home, lookie what I built. Well, close one eye, and then look at it. This famous shape has a name, the “Penrose Triangle”. Boy, you really have to know your scroll saw to pull this off. Yes, it is for real, like, you can see I’m holding it, can’t you?
           I miscalculated the position of the Sun. Now that I’ve done it a while, I’ll talk about it, but it is not necessary to learn celestial navigation to make this computation. It’s probably a good idea to have some overall knowledge, but just you watch, I’ll explain it in a far easier fashion than the experts. Finding out where you are by celestial navigation is about finding three corners of a triangle. Once trained to do that, you can figure out how close you are to one of those corners.

           And I was looking for the position of the Sun. You need only the time in Greenwich and a book called the Nautical Almanac. The Almanac contains lists of the Sun’s position for every hour of the year, but note that is full (integer) hours only, you’ve heard me refer to the Almanac as the bus schedule of the Sun. There is another smaller table in the back of the book where you add the offset for the minutes and seconds of your actual time.
           The error was procedural. Navigation involves modular (base 60) arithmetic, so it is customary to use a worksheet. I have a habit of “rounding down” my estimates, so that when the correction is due, it is added rather than subtracted. It is easy to lose track of where you are. I had mentioned I was using the Almanac from 2014, It is customary to take more than one of each reading, so I have a second time at 07:04:12, I’ll take a break now to see where things are with that.
           And don’t think there is a shortcut using on-line latitude and longitude sites. I’ve repeatedly warned you that the people who write those things are borderline retards. iTouchMap requires you to convert your cardinal directions into positive or negative, and even that is reverse to logic of east-west. Or the complete bozos who wrote findlatitudeandlongitude Quick, find the “degree” symbol on your keyboard. Because it won’t accept ASCII equivalents. Complete mental defectives, those boys.

NIGHT
           Here we go, that is more reasonable, location-wise. The Sun was a few hundred miles east of Two Boats Village. That’s on the island of Ascension, near St. Helena. With a population of 120, it has a snack bar with live entertainment, although what that means on an island in the middle of the Atlantic remains an open question. Described as “residential in nature”, it is supposed to be at the center of this picture, taken from a nearby mountain.

           There are no hotels, but anybody who can afford a hotel on an island owned by the English has more money and a stronger back than I do. The weather today is 0 centigrade, too chilly for me, with a 40% chance of a thunderstorm tonight. And people actually live there? The island is also known for Nearby Earthquakes says that web page. Which also contains several hotlinks to the entire bible.
           There is even a TravelPod slide show that says Two Boats Village, but I dunno. It seems more like a set of photos from meh-looking people who think you want to watch them playing golf and riding bicycles. You decide. But having live entertainment put them ahead of anything in Hollywood, Florida. Except the strip joints, so they say. That's one thing I can say about Julie, this gal I met out west. She'll never have to worry about catching her daughters working in a strip joint. That's for sure.


Last Laugh

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

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

February 24, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 24, 2015, the lovely Lady Rowena.
Five years ago today: February 24, 2011, the Da Vinci Rule.
Nine years ago today: February 24, 2007, I liked that shirt.
Random years ago today: February 24, 2001, my Danelectro.

MORNING
           That was Fred on the line. Remember that storm went through here two days ago? It tore five trees out of his back yard. By the roots. Including his fifty-foot shade tree, I can’t remember what species. But I’ll be over there to take photos in a day or two. That’s terrible bad luck. I’m glad I planted cactus, I can’t turn around these days without some tree hitting the ground. Mercifully, it fell away from his house. He’s got a nice place over in West Hollywood.
           See this? Those are my first wooden hinges. I had to do it after I saw this guy on a video. It’s not only fast and easy, they work really nice. I wasn’t going for looks, but this does have a certain rustic appeal. The screw holes are counter-sunk with my Forstner bit. Forstner. I like saying Forstner. The exta set of holes is because the first set let the screws dig into the box frame. And if you think the hinge pins resemble bicycle spokes, I’d say you are right about that.
           I used the scroll saw since Home Depot no longer stocks blades for their band saw; it is an order item at $9.34 apiece. This box is not for heirlooms, rather to hold my universal charger. It even has a magnetic lid. See, I have my moments. And this is how I intend to spend my retirement. Having my moments. And watching the banksters play with the silver market, waiting for them to make their move. Can they keep silver down longer than I’ll live?

           I’m planning on attending a Trump event, if only as a show of support. If populist is the aspect of simply wanting to get rid of the existing politicians and administration, I would fit squarely in that category. I’ve said since day one that no way do politicians represent the electorate, that once they get in, they immediately join the establishment and do little more than make faces. By the time anybody can get a total pacifist-isolationist like me out to a political barn-dance, dammit, revolution is in the air.
           I feel one of the reasons Trump will win by a landslide is the millions of middle-class voters who are disillusioned by the lack of real leadership and quit voting years ago are going to return to the polls. Most also see through the criticism of Trump being labeled a populist as pure jealousy. It’s ridiculous for Liberals to spend five generations alienating the electorate to then bellyache when a leader amongst them emerges. The establishment had it coming. Wasn’t it around five years ago the Russian delegation refused to shake hands with Obama? When such things happen, America, something stinks to high heaven.

           Any Disney fans, here is how his multi-plane camera works. While you are linking, take a peek at Skyshield. Pay attention to how the muzzle programs each shell. An automatic shotgun with dumb pellets is pretty hard to fool with. Your best defense is to not be where it is shooting. And that is one old, old video.

Wiki picture of the day.
The Bingham Mine, 1942.

NOON
           There, I told you I could not go to Harbor Freight and buy nothing. I had to go in for a look and came out with a set of drill collars, a bit sharpener, a new propane valve, an air line tap, and my free multi-meter. I know that lacks excitement, so how about some trivia? Do you know how they created vacuums in the old days before they had machines to do it? They filled a barrel with water, turned it upside down, and hand pumped the water out.
           See this picture? Those are water towers in Kuwait. There is also a restaurant there, they say. Don’t quote me on the location but Wiki reports that the towers have been closed to the public. For “maintenance”. Since 2012.
           Maybe I should close myself for a few days. I do have the sniffles and another cold spell has chased away all but a few diehard Canadians. I don’t think I’ll be running any marathons but it isn’t a bad flu. If you don’t mind a violent sneeze every ten minutes or so. And it doesn’t fuddle one’s head, in fact, I’m miffed that I so badly miscalculated the sun this morning that I’m going to try again, and this time continue on to calculate a LOP (line of position) using the air tables, the marine tables being impossible to find.
           And because you are so nice, I’m going to do some Roman numeral multiplication for you. We will times 123 by 165.


          You can double-check the math if you’d like. It’s my sinuses that are stopped up, not the old brain.

NIGHT
           Don’t ask me to be nice, I’m already nice about this. Trent & I met up at the Hard Rock gambling place to attend the concert of guitar players. Eight of the top guitarists as determined, one supposes, by other guitarists. Billy Cox, Buddy Guy, Ken Shepherd, Jonny Lang, Dweezil Zappa, Eric Johnson, Keb’ Mo’,Chris Layton, Mato Nanji, and Henri Brown. Did I get too many? Like whatever, because I could not have picked one of these guys out of a lineup. But this other dude, shown here, name’s Zakk, this guy stole the show.
           Unlike the other performers, he did on guitar precisely what I would have done [if I had been] on bass. He put on an unexpected good show, interacting with the audience. When he got off stage, one fan even got on all fours as a stepping stool for him to get back up. A real showman.
           This one, I could have worked with. He had more stage savvy than the rest. He played to the audience. Do understand my viewpoint as a bassist is not going to allow for any mediocrity in a guitarist, but this show told me that the rock era is over. I’m sad to say it, because rock defined and covered my generation. Well, sort of, I was a little too young for some of it, but I definitely lived through rock’s heyday, and was also the first of my crowd to grow out of it. I told you about “Iron Man”.
           The first tip-off is the nearly total lack of women at the concert. It was clearly let the old boy go out and have his third-childhood fun. Trent & I were some of the younger men present, actually. Since the really famous rock came about while I was too young to grasp any of it. I was a Beatles fan and disliked any other bands that kept trying to “take over”. Hendrix was one of the first I didn’t care for, it was always a puzzlement to me what others saw in his music. And this show was a Hendrix tribute.

           Whereas I had intended to write a review of the show, I think this [redacted] e-mail from this morning says it best:

“As for the guitar show, we left after two hours. While we were hoping to hear some innovative interpretations and tasteful renditions from these musicians at the height of their careers. Wrong, it was nothing more than a continual over-compressed indie-grade shred-fest. While I am not one expected to be kind to this type of guitar player, I could not have been the only one wondering whether these guys were playing guitars or playing foot pedals. Billy Cox, Buddy Guy, Ken Shepherd, Jonny Lang, Dweezil Zappa, Eric Johnson, Keb’ Mo’,Chris Layton, Mato Nanji, and Henri Brown. It was fun, but a reminder that rock is a dead or dying style that won't much outlast this last generation. It'll always be around, like jazz, as an anachronism.

“Am I a better bassist than what was on stage? Listen, YOU are better bassist than what was on stage. It was two of the most obsequious "guitar-minded” pounded-down followers I've ever seen! Precisely the type of wimp-ass bass player that guitar heroes love because "they've learned their place". It was embarrassing how, even with two people on a sixty-foot stage, these limp-wrist bassists clones were potty-trained to stand behind the guitarist and gawk at him like he was their mentor. Disgusting, really.

“While I never over-play anybody, a guitarist on stage with me never gets more than 50/50 billing. Tops. I would have loved to have got on that stage and pulled my devastating "play-ahead" tactic on those guitar boys. You know, where I play everything they are going to do a measure ahead of them so it sounds like they are following me. It’s easy to do because I know all seven guitar licks they’ll ever play.

           I'll probably add to this tomorrow. None of the guitarists played anything I can use, but as you see, I found the bassists to be the big disappointment. The very idea of a bassist who comes across as second-fiddle irks me. I think one of the bassists was the same guy to played that outdoor "Guess Who" concert I attended back in 2005. He's the perfect bassist--as long as a guitarist is calling the shots. He don't dare step out of line.


Last Laugh
Stabilized Star Trek.


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

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

February 23, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 23, 2015, I hack College Humor.
Five years ago today: February 23, 2011, bees prefer stupid.
Nine years ago today: February 23, 2007, 40¢ and self-published.
Random years ago today: February 23, 2009, mostly concerning music.

MORNING
           The books are done [for the trip]. Other than what JZ spent on his own, this trip to the interior cost $164.00. That includes $51.45 for gas, $27.00 for food, and $35.00 I spent at Goodwill. We split the motel, but otherwise, it was a no frills trip. I may make the next trip in the cPod camper, since I want to systematically comb the entire stretch between Brandon and Kissimmee. Travel costs other than gas on the cPod are trivial. Meals and gas. Hey, that sounded funny.
           Anyway, JZ and I now have something rather expensive that could not have been done many other ways. You see, we now know what areas of central Florida to avoid. These trips regularly bring parts of the countryside back into view, and again we have that Mulberry-Bartow axis which nobody over here had even heard of before last year. Unbeknownst to us, we had driven past several properties of some attraction. There is little doubt I have to either get up there for a few weeks or make a decision soon. I won’t go into why that is.
           We’ll consider anything to get us established over there and this picture is a defunct plumbing supply office. Too bad it is zoned industrial and the seller wants ten times what it is worth. Sure, I’d live there, just get rid of that parking lot and put in some lawn. With a gazebo. Everybody like a gazebo.

           This drew me away from my plan to spend the day at home with a book. You can pull up Trulia.com and look at the same properties by just setting your upper price limit below $36,000. Unlike a lot of America, you’ll quickly find there are no vast farming or wilderness areas with old farmhouses or barns. Miles of farms with no houses, not even a storage shed. Crops I don’t recognize.

Wiki picture of the day.
Knight’s Tour.

NOON
           Trent came by and we got up to MAE, a music store in Ft. Lauderdale with a ton of guitars. It’s a far more active music store than Guitar Center and that means you can bargain better. Trent is in with the owners so we got to sample everything. For the first time in my life, I punched a few notes on a stand-up bass. I was right, those things are massive pigs that contribute little to the art of bass playing other than looking cool the sort that consider themselves aficionados. Or something like that.
           Trent was there to pick up some tickets, I picked up a set of guitar strings that are supposed to bite less on the fingertips. If this does not work, I’m moving to the other extreme of beefy strings. That is, the widest gauge strings I can find that will still sound like a guitar. Did I say tickets? I meant free tickets, Wahoo! I’m not even a concert-goer, but nothing’s like free tickets.
           I was at the motorcycle shop, caught in the rain for a few hours. With a rather odd-looking saleslady, the sort that is pretty enough as long as you allow her that extra hour in the morning. It was an interesting encounter, but there isn’t much you can get away with in a repair shop full of men. By the time we decided getting together was probably a good idea, she had to head back to her office and I was late for supper. She was selling those newish chip credit card readers. The next layer of entrapment.

EVENING
           And I must begin giving credit to Mel, the lady who has been helping immensely with the real estate searches. A former paralegal, she is a whiz at uncovering all manner of deep information on the properties before I schedule an inspection. It has become indispensible to know someone like that, I’ve learned. Take a look at this nice little summer cottage asking $31,000. What could be wrong with that?
           Mel discovers it will only be sold to a cash buyer with a “zero day inspection period”. It further states that the agent and owner “have no knowledge of property and no seller disclosures will be provided”. So show up with your coin, you get one look, and cannot ask any questions. Other fine print states “no utilities will be connected to this property”. Sounds legit to me.
           Or the other place that had been sold for $70,000, then dropped to $40,000 within three months. Since then, it has inched downward to $25,000. The real estate ads don’t mention history beyond a certain limits, so you need the country records and that is where Mel really sparkles. She enjoys peeling the cover off these phony ads and seeing the little man (that’s me) win against the system.
           It’s working a bit both ways, for instance, she was unaware of the problem in that area of disconnected electrical service. And, of course, we can provide first-hand information of which areas to avoid, information absolutely unavailable from any other reliable source. It is a mystery what the government hopes to gain by suppressing this knowledge.

           Over to the club for a couple, it’s too bad the juke box was monopolized by the over-40 crowd desperate to ensure all present gets to hear enough metallica. The theory is that if you play the latest trash music on a juke box, nobody will begin to consider you to be actually old. The women in Plant City last Saturday, they were definitely actually old. But I never said anything about it.
           I didn’t get my quiet afternoon at home and I’m grumpy, though that is partially because I can’t wait to get this place in the country with a private workshed. No, I’m not going to build an ark or pound metal, I want to tinker. Like put a timer on my battery charger to remind the user to check the status every hour. Meaningful projects like that. Maybe I’ll now have a quiet evening. Can I have that?

ADDENDUM
           This photo is from a monastery wall uncovered in Austria in 2004. The figure dates back to the 1300s. The Church authorities say it is St. Christopher, but we know who it really is. If you care to follow up this material, the monastery is confusingly located in a town called “Malta”, near the Swiss Alps.
           Good news, I found and fixed the problem with the new coffee maker, it now works fine. However, that does not let off the deadbeat mentality of those who “donate” defective products to a thrift. That stinks, like the Englishman mentality behind it, that “poor” people should be incentivized to make repairs. Hey, if these people had the wherewithal to fix kitchen appliances, they wouldn’t be shopping the thrifts.

          More good news. As Trent and I took the detour around the Dixie rail lines, what should we find in the old Office Bunker premises but a spanking new Harbor Freight Tools. That’s walking distance from here. And you can kiss any monthly savings goodbye because the only reason I haven’t been in there dropping a few hundred bucks is because the other store out on Taft and University was just too damn far away.
          JZ has to do some banking tomorrow, so guess where we are heading directly after that. You know, you think you know somebody after years of chasing women and gallivanting around, but then guess what I find out about JZ? He actually doesn’t care for biscuits. I thought he was a biscuit hound. Turns out, he just likes the sound a fury when opening the frozen dough package. You heard me, the dough. The guy is seriously planning on marrying the next gal who like him.l I'm recommending separate kitchens.


Last Laugh

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