One year ago today: April 8, 2015, pedal pub, revisited.
Five years ago today: April 8, 2011, everything that’s going wrong.
Nine years ago today: April 8, 2007, flat tires, flat files.
Random years ago today: April 8, 2005, WORST limerick ever.
MORNING
Front page news, they busted a ring of 22 money-laundering operations. They can act surprised, but it is nothing that hasn’t been recounted in this blog since the day I arrived in Florida. My concern is, of course, that now the authorities will push for law that requires the revelation of shell company owners. This, of course, is bogus, since the real owners will always remain hidden.
Mmmmm, pleasant surprise. I grabbed some incense last day thinking the brand name was “Cedar”. Nope, the scent was cedar and while it is not some people’s chosen aroma, it makes the place smell like I’ve got a fancy fireplace. Not that we had cedar logs on the farm because we did not. And I never said I don’t like wood stoves, nor did I say I didn’t like having to fill the woodbox. What I said was I did not like wood stoves when I was strong-armed to fill the woodbox when others of equal standing were not required to do so. Big difference.
The perpetrators of this harsh treatment always maintained they were teaching me a valuable lesson. Question, if that were true, why were they so upset when I learned that lesson? I was against unfair treatment, not work by any means. I will always work voluntarily when the benefits (or even potential benefits) outweigh the effort.
Now look at my restored “digital” brake light. This was constructed long before the LEDs now on the market. I made this fully working prototype, complete with ignition and running light switches years ago. I had raided it for parts and those are the switches replaced shown last day. It isn’t really digital, but rather incorporates LEDs instead of incandescent filaments. The brake pedal is fully functional, it works with a spring and an ordinary contact switch. This time, I also fabricated a battery holder.
If I didn’t say, I should have. The reason for not pursuing this brake light project was my calculation that to commence production, I would require $20,660,000 to set up the assembly line. And I was a little shy of that mark at the time. Around $20,659,995 short.
This is what sets our club apart from other clubs, one of which I love to point out is Nova university. We don’t brag until after we have a working prototype, and if you have one of those, is it really bragging? C’mon, be fair about that. Um, all the moving parts of this assembly are conveniently hidden in the cavity of the brake pedal.
Alaskan wild berries.
NOON
“Only hire people who are smarter than you.” ~ RHP
We must talk music again, for I was out last night to the club. It was dead, except for the usual noisy married men and their sports issues. A lady came in who I know can dance, so I put a foxtrot on the jukebox. For any new people, a foxtrot is the easiest of the “natural” American dances, medium speed 4/4 timing, easy steps. But I also played the next tune with my extra credit. This is the pub that normally has one or two age-deniers in there blasting pseudo-punk-disco-metal, particularly when they see others trying to play along with the game shows. You know what I’m talking about.
It was a good thing I was leaving after because they insisted I keep going. But the fact is, I had chosen all the songs that I could for the moment. I was out of material. Yes, it does match my bass song list to a large degree. But there’s your explanation and proof of why, with one or two exceptions, my list has completely new material from just a year ago.
And one more thing. Once again a few people brought up that I should sing and play guitar. We’ve tripped and stumbled on this one so many times, why don’t I listen? Same answer, because I just cannot meet my own musical standards playing guitar, I am a bass man through and through. However, maybe some happy day I will listen to people who say my guitar strumming is good enough for a show.
Listen to me, I know it is worth a try. I know I should get off my tush and put something together. The two players I know who started from scratch, Johnny Z and Pat-B have both told me that is how they started. My onboard excuse generator keeps telling me at least they had guitar talent, they insist it is not so. Furthermore, I’ve always questioned if I still have the 10,000 requisite hours to accomplish a guitar solo act, yet there are two unknowns in my favor.
They are, both the above solo players say my performance is already good enough, and secondly, because of my prior experience, would I really require the entire 10,000 hours? I’ve stood on the banks of this river a thousand times without jumping in.
Having the time this afternoon, I ran over what I could play and sing on the guitar. Yes, I do have a two hour set but on top of that, I have a card I’m not playing. Think back to my bingo days. How many times did the game have to stop because I played recorded music in the background? Remember that, how the ladies so often began to sing along that the whole place joined in. This patently never happened when other musicians chose the music. But keep going, there is more.
But I’ve done all that before. Many a time. I found Jimbos, didn’t I? Nothing attracts a crowd faster than the sound of other people singing happy songs. And I don’t play any sad songs. I’m pricing out the equipment I’ll need, since my most trusted advisors say I should continue. This will NOT be a guitar solo act, it will be like live Karoake, which restricts me to the oldest of recognizable songs. And the microphones? We are not talking quality, but the scratchiest AM-grade half-dimensional crap available third hand on eBay. This is the plan, not stinginess on my part. I’ve done this before.
AFTERNOON
Here’s your challenge for the day. I’ve run up against my old nemesis, the pilot light. That’s the little light that comes on to tell you a switch is thrown. Like on your stereo and your phone. This is not so simple as putting a small bulb across the prongs of the switch. That will not only dull your whole circuit unless you are lucky enough to have a regulated power supply. Nor is it a matter of tapping a parallel lamp along the power wire, try it. It saps the power where you need it most. I know there is a technology to this, but there is not a peep of any use about this on the Internet.
[Photo delayed]
Cancel that, you don't need another photo today.
It must be another of those things you are “supposed to know”. I fake the light with a diode and huge resistor, but I can still see the difference in my circuit operation. If you know how to install a constant brightness pilot light that does not interfere with the power path and does not require an expensive regulated power supply, please leave me a comment. I won’t publish it, but I’ll mention it.
What brought this up is I’m missing an entire package of 100 diodes. They were switching diodes, not power diodes, but they work fine on 5V circuits. They’ll eventually turn up around here, approximately one day after I break down and go buy another package. Just you watch.
The photo? That’s got a message I like. I was listening to callers on the talk-show. It seems none of them have real jobs. They are all assistant-somethings for obscure publicly funded nonsense that should be cut off the day Trump gets into office. If it does not benefit a majority, end of subsidization. Permanently.
The show was NPR on the radio, the permanent Libtard station. Reminding you they know your unpure thoughts by bringing up the topic incessantly. They say Trump has altered the Republican party like it was a bad thing. Hey, it needed altering in the worst way, they can’t seem to field successful candidates and you think they’d learn. For that matter, he altered the other party and everything in between as well. For the same reason.
As for Trump’s view on abortion, he and all other politicians should keep their noses out of other people’s business. And so should the pro- and anti-abortionists. It is not a political issue and people are tired of hearing about it. Leave it up to the woman and her doctor, but the doctor has to start reporting after a third episode. To keep things on course, but medical records should always be confidential. End of discussion.
Trivia. Did you know who the original test subject was in 1999 when Dunning-Kruger did their study? What, you don’t know Dunning-Kruger? That’s the study that people who are dumb or incompetent are often so much so that they don’t know they are dumb. They actually just put a name to what any half-intelligent person has known all along. To give a correct answer, you have to be able to recognize what constitutes a correct answer. The trivia is some gorf who rubbed lemon juice on his face to rob a bank. His logic that since it was used for “invisible ink”, it would defeat the video cameras.
Real stoopidity is not an inability to think. Many of the stoopidest people I know are very hard thinkers. Stoopidity is the inability to think in terms of what other people are thinking. Right, Patsie, Theresa, Ken, Hector? Dang, I’ve lost you already, again.
EVENING
The Canucks have left and the beachfront is a ghost town. Worse, the entertainment has gone for a royal dump. Trent and I teamed up for a weekly planning meeting (yes, RofR, the good old WPM is still alive and well after all these years) and the brilliant idea came up, why don’t we go check out the beach? We know all the good spots, but opted not to visit Margaritaville. You never get out of that place. And it is just a hotel. Anyway.
There was some non-local duo, totally unsuited to the atmosphere. A middle-aged lady who wore calf-length prints over thick tights and played with her makeup on stage. And the guy, while a few years too old to be her son, he was a piece of work. One of those yahoos who was not a rock musician but had instead bought into the image. And we never did hear them play.
The accompanying photo is the Riptide, not the Walkabout. The Tiki bar is on the right, the closer hut is the stage, if you look close you can make out a guitar player. Since it is daylight, this would be on a Sunday afternoon.
As we entered the place (Walkabout), they (the band) were into some extended break. We waited forty minutes, still nothing as they visited with a group of similar-looking people at stageside. Yet the staff more than once had to tell them to turn down or turn off the B-side metal they were cranking out for their break music. It was really that bad they turned it off because they didn’t have any other music. Duh.
So, we strolled to the next stop, the “Riptide”. Never my favorite, but there was music, so we stopped. Another non-local, but a bouncy Cuban chick in white shorts playing Latin-pop, bouncing along. Again, from what I saw, the entire music scene on the beach has degenerated to this. One place with a crackerjack band would take the place over in a wink, but there is no such thing locally available. All the guitar players over 40 want to be teen rock stars.
We thought it was the show, her singing and dancing. Let me get a name here, hold on. Annie, but look at that last name. Hmmm, oriental. That could explain her great looks and narrow proportions that have lasted so long. That’s an observation, not a criticism, but it’s true, most Cuban women get too fat too fast. And I am being presidential about that. She got some guy on stage to sing, Trent noticed he was some New York politician, I noticed her recorded music was Karaoke, although it was not that kind of show. She only lets people she knows well onto her stage.
I swiftly cornered her and got one song. Sometimes, folks, things fall into place and I think I stole the show, at least the sing-a-long part. I stopped 100% of the strollers on the broadwalk and had the entire bar clustered around the stage by end of the first chorus. There’s more. Around a dozen of the diners on the walk cafes were snapping my picture or recording video. There’s more, but that’s enough already. Annie thanked me several times and gave me her bizcard.
When I rejoined Trent at the counter, the server, a button-bright little brunette, was impressed. In fact, she stopped serving to approach us and over-compliment my work. Wow, it should be observed that I place tremendous, immense store in what the staff thinks of my show. They have seen it all, band-wise, and they know what sells. She essentially said the lady who hires the bands would be at the club “all day Sunday”. And me, caught with no act.
One more item. Trent says he could see the same brunette watching me on stage and also when she came over. He was mildly baffled that I did not pick up she was giving me the look and the come on, but honestly folks, I did not detect a thing. She seemed to be only another enthusiastic fan. But yes, she did kind of give us primary focus after that. Am I going blind? If so, I can wax them New York politicians with my eyes closed. Ha!
ADDENDUM
Noticing the uproar over Trump’s “medical plan”, my opinion is that there isn’t any. He doesn’t have one. Rather, what Trump has done is realize the entire medical system in the US is built on over-glorifying doctors and overcharging for everything. That’s right across the board, from the fees for medical school to hospitals charging $800 for a band-aid. The whole system is sicker than the patients and Obamacare was merely the ultimate symptom of that condition.
True, Trump would have to also ease the ability of patients to sue any but the worst of doctors but the solution remains getting the system to self-police. For openers, insurance companies would have to be curbed and the way to do that is to limit premiums at the same time as restricting that medical businesses cannot bill insurance companies any more than the patient who pays his own way. It is the presence of unregulated insurance money that lets hospitals charge such exorbitant fees, which in turn causes everyone to cheat where they can.
It didn’t used to be like that. The answer is not compulsory insurance for all, but making doctor visits affordable to all even if they choose not to have insurance. Allow supply and demand to returen as the pricing mechanism. It is evident the very presence of insurance companies is skewing the prices when only those with insurance can afford treatment. You learn about such things at the Wharton School of Finance. The picture above is Wharton. I've never been there, but I can name somebody who has, and he’s, like, really, really smart.
Last Laugh
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