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.
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.
The Bingham Mine, 1942.
NOON
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.
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
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
