One year ago today: March 1, 2015, on Merida, Yucutan, Mexico.
Five years ago today: March 1, 2011, she's not my girlfriend.
Nine years ago today: March 1, 2007, what a mess.
Random years ago today: March 1, 2014, off my list list.
MORNING
Up and at ‘em, we got both the choke and the throttle cables working first time, so I’ve already had the batbike out to Pembroke Pines and back. I love that sound, a finely tuned machine. The next step is replacing that starter, I don’t know why I keep putting it off.
The violations usually get dropped if a new owner brings the building up to snuff, and if you look closely, it is not in that bad of a shape. The city took great exception to the “railings” on the “porch”, but that looks more like some kind of cheapo landing in front of the door. Anyway, the thing about code violations is they are usually dropped for a new owner who passes muster, because the new owner did not cause the violations, he repaired them.
I want to have a look, so if Thursday is good motorcycle weather, I’m away. I’m prepared to offer $8,000 cash on the condition it is legally livable while repairs and renovations take place. I discussed the situation with JZ, but he knows zero about code violations. I further looked into the property and it appears to be more of a dispute with the owner/occupant and the city. And following the crime pins, I’m almost certain the place was a drug house. If it is still on the market by Thursday, I’ll think it over again.
Somewhat later, I looked at this property again. From what I can find on the city records, they want the “porch” torn down, a window fixed, new siding, and the yard kept clean. I wrote to the seller asking the big question—can the premises be legally occupied while repairs are underway. No reply yet.
By 9:00AM, I had the choke cable fixed and the mechanic showed up. With two of us on the work, he had the new throttle cable installed by 9:30AM and I took the bike for a test run way out on Pembroke road. For some reason, this tiny bit of work completely tuckered me out, bone-weary like I’d worked in the fields all day. I plunked into the easy chair and didn’t stir until JZ showed up at 1:30PM. That’s four hours late.
NOON
Who remembers the Honda 250 Rebel I missed last year. What a steal that would have been. The one where I showed up with the cash Monday at mid-morning and it was already gone. Now think of the Yamaha 250, almost the same machine. I think they call it the V-Star. This is a little over Blue Book, but as you see, it is pristine. Only 2100 miles on the clock. These are peppy machines and easy to wheel around, but too light for the Interstates. They get blown around a lot.
The machine is only $3,200 new so I can’t go for the asking price. I think I’ll offer $1,400 and sit back. This motorcycle has been stored indoors and I would have to make some arrangement over here to try to keep it in that condition.
Next, JZ and I drove up to Oakland Park to look at the mobile that had the rental unit on the side. It was an automatic reject. First, the park rental was $800 per month, outrageous, considering the place was appointed no better than places I've seen for half that. Even renting the side unit would not bring in that much, not in a trailer court. The place had been spruced up with new aluminum siding but not so hot of a job. It was also heavily French Canadian, who tend to dominate any amenities and use the clubhouse as a poker and bingo hall.
Furthermore, $800 per month is not rent, that much money is a bloody mortgage. Can you imagine the place I’d have up in Lakeland if I was willing to commit to that much per month? At that rent, even two people sharing is not that much of a monthly savings over staying right here and not being dependent on somebody else coming up with half. And even if, as the ad claims, you could rent the place out for so much money, one vacancy every few years is going to chew up every penny that you’ve saved. Think about it.
It was not worth the trip to go have a look. I’ve decided to slate tomorrow to get the camper up to not necessarily great shape, but enough to take to the interior before the weather gets sultry for the summer. JZ remains amazed that this form of travel is cheaper than staying in town. Once I reach a destination and stay for a bit, my expenses often drop to under $10 per day. Yet, he will not put a camper shell on his truck and do the same.
NIGHT
On the way home, we pulled into West Marine, the millionaire’s boat store. They have an 2016 Almanac, but I decided against spending the $32. Why? Because I use the tables mainly for practice, and I can do that with outdated tables any time. Besides, there was a mousy little blond at the till, the kind I would not have touched in my prime because she thought she was perfect. No, no, lady, I can show you what perfect is, and you don’t hold a candle.
For those unfamiliar with the technology, it is a floating gasoline engine than pumps air down to the diver’s mouthpiece which contains a regulator. But I have never seen one assert that it will work at such a depth. The flag mast is the intake pipe and the unit has (I think) automatic poison gas detectors that warn the diver by vibrating the mouthpiece. Again, I think, because I could be confusing this with some other product.
Normally humans cannot breathe below 30 feet because the pressure of the water is too great for the chest to inhale. The pump compresses the air to allow your chest to expand against the water pressure. The Hookah says you can work at 90 feet for three hours, but doesn’t that bring a danger of narcosis? I have not scuba dived in forty years. I’ll need time to refresh my memory. The rig in the picture runs you about $3,900.
ADDENDUM
We stopped for cod at Long John’s, with their secret batter of 19 different spices. I’m stuffed but I cannot think of 19 spices one could use that are compatible with the flavor of fish. Once more, we had the heated discussion of whether or not cocktail sauce is just ketchup and horseradish. (It is, but many people don’t like the fact.) Here, I am showing JZ a “fritter shadow”, a fritter overdone on one side and underdone on the other. I make better fritters than Long John’s, but I cannot for the life of me cook fish.
In the sixteen years I’ve been in Florida, and I don’t just mean JZ, I have never seen even one person that learned anything new, or took up a serious new hobby, or gained a new skill, or lifted one single finger on one of their hands to improve their own lot. That’s a tough statement, so let me reconsider if I got it right. Am I actually saying in sixteen years, I have never met anyone who’s changed even 1%? Yes, that is correct. I have never met a guitarist that learned a new song or an intellectual who adopted a new discipline. For that matter, I’ve not met anyone who even tried.
JZ, for instance, has never learned guitar, which on the surface seems inconsequential enough. But let’s follow through on that. It also means when he thinks of going to a club, it is in the context of sitting at the bar drinking, where I think of being on the stage performing. His perspective is to spend money on women, he seems to not see it when women buy me drinks, when in fact it happens all the time. Despite being around my place, he still knows zilch about computers, or navigation, or Arduinos, or building campers. He’s only seen robots on TV. He refers to my scroll saw as the “sewing machine saw” and has never learned the capabilities of a drill press.
He cannot find his way around the library, or drive a motorcycle, or receive Morse code. He cannot weld or solder electrical joints, nor operate any new equipment from smart phones to GPS, and hasn’t the foggiest how to shop for houses or negotiate a contract. I could go on and on. And on. But don’t conclude I’m singling the guy out, because nobody else around this damn town has learned a damn thing either. I have yet to meet a person from Florida who has actually done or learned anything new in the 16 years since I arrived.
What I’m pointing out is that the contrast is far greater because JZ’s been at least exposed to all the things mentioned and is aware I learned from scratch. He can't even say he was unaware that things could be done. He still wrongly thinks I bought that finger splint [rather than built it myself], that I only cook because I can’t afford to eat in restaurants, and that I drive a sidecar because I’m too broke to buy a car [even though I regularly fill up his tank for the smallest trips]. That is, he thinks the exact opposite of what he knows to be reality, simply because that is the only way he could rationalize himself doing anything comparable.
[Author’s note: I’ve offered to show him the ropes, I mean, if I had his prospects of meeting a nice woman, I would beg somebody to teach me to play guitar. The way I see it, learning music is the only hope he’s got left. But, like most men, he will continue pursuing what has never worked in forty years, clinging to the belief it will produce a miracle. And like most men, he still spends seven or eight times as much as I do every month drinking, as if that is going to find him a good girl. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will because JZ is wealthy enough that this makes no difference, but he told me last night he went out partying and drinking and spent $296. I have never done anything of the kind.
I predicted this would happen long before I ever set foot in Florida. That most older men who drink every day do so because they never developed any interests to occupy the inevitable quite times of late adulthood. Now they are too old and it is too late to start anything, so when they get a few hours off, what are their options? Sit around and drink, play pool, lose money on the juke box. And that, Sparky, is why you meet so many talentless people when you go out.
Myself, it is only since Jimbos closed a year ago last December that I even started buying my own drinks. Prior to that, whenever I did any drinking at all, I came home richer than when I set out. Getting more to the point, I am not going to trust anyone to have any say or sway whatsover on the property that I am going to live in. That just isn’t happening as of recently I knew Wallace 20 years, and I’ve known JZ 16, and I know that I can’t afford another failed arrangement. Well, I could easily afford it, what I mean is I'm not going to.
Last Laugh
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