June 5, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 5, 2015, well, I was warned.
Five years ago today: June 5, 2011, missing post.
Nine years ago today: June 5, 2007, kind of a quiet day.
Random years ago today: June 5, 2009, weekends are precious again.

MORNING
           And what a morning. In the distance I heard church bells instead of sirens. What got me was yard work. Huh? I’ll explain. I am not a fan of yard work, it has never been my pet weekend activity. It’s quite the occasion to see me water the lawn, probably because I don’t have one. But let’s not quibble. I took six bags of leaves off the front yard alone.

           The estimate is that there will be eighteen more bags, so it is time to dig a fire pit. Lordy knows the property is big enough for that, buahahaha, it’ll be a while before I get over that. What a score, even if the building is not worth fixing up, the land alone is worth the price tag.

           That looming storm has me on edge. Remember the squall last month that drenched me in two minutes so bad the Honda quit. It has always had sensitive wiring. So, I hitched up and headed back to Hollywood. Mostly a morning drive, even the air seems fresher. I took 98, south through Bartow, Bowling Green, and stopped for gas in Zolfo Springs. Hundreds of motorcyclists were taking to the road, that’s how perfect the day.

           In a little over an hour, I was at the Interlake Café, that’s the name of the joint in Lake Placid. The café where they love the sidecar. I walk in, they already know what I want and where I’ll sit, so the coffee is waiting by the time I plunk down my crossword. The batbike requires two parking spots over the difficulty of backing up with the trailer attached.
           The sharp-eyed will notice this picture was taken on the outbound leg, since it is still loaded up with gear. The estimate is it will take six such trips to get just my small stuff out of south Florida, but I sure don’t mind. For those not convinced, illegal immigration and persistent Cuban racism has turned the entire Miami area into a Third World ghetto. Say what you want about assimilation, they don’t assimilate and you don’t walk around there at night. Liberals should be forced to spend a week over there. It’s good to be gone, although I have not really lived in Miami since 2002.

Wiki picture of the day.
The Mummy, 1932.
NOON
           Using the time to think, before long I was at the La Belle intersection. Having no schedule, I drove it for a lark, stopping for a cold drink downtown. It’s a nothing drive, largely due to Florida’s penchant for paving over old wagon trails instead of thinking ahead. Tallahassee knows from experience that making plans causes too much unemployment. You’ve heard of ghost towns? Florida has ghost roads.

           And on this trip, I saw a deer, a turtle, and a peahen (of some sort). They lose their fear of crossing these empty paths. The deer was weird, a spindly thing about the size of a large lap dog. Are deer born in the spring or the fall? Anyway, it’s a good think I travel slow because the batbike would slice that in half at speed.

           Here’s a photo of the little floppy-haired rabbit that came by first day to check out my ride. The neighbors say they’ve never seen it, but folks, there it was. Face it, the batbike is just irresistible. That’s why you see the photos of Miss Miami lounging in it time to time. I left La Belle on the familiar road to Alva, and was east of Clewiston tanking up within the hour.
           I’d never stopped at the Marathon on the outskirts, but it replaces the old and now defunct Burger King. When I walked in, the place has ice cold air and an entire ice-cream parlor. Tables inside and out. T’would appear it is descended from an old country store. And afterward, I confirm that old Highway 27 has been blocked. There are no shortcuts left. I did pass that house I wanted to buy in 2001. It’s all renovated now and worth a fortune.

AFTERNOON
           Jet lag, and I haven’t even gotten off the road yet, ha! Here’s me pointing at the old shed, roughly where I’d like to put the corner of my new double garage. The garden area is just above my fingertip, and just to the left, the base of the dead tree with the water tap.

           I’m not going to topple the entire tree, I’m leaving about an 8-foot stump as a conversation piece. There is another dead tree out on the street side. It has to go, leaving six or seven mature oak trees on the north perimeter of the property. I was thinking of carving the house number into the stump of that one.

           A little rain slowed it down, but I was back in the trailer court by 2:00 PM in just four hours of road time. That tire is finally flat, it gave out as I turned off the freeway. That’s it, I thought. I drove home on the rubber. Why not, this trip, since I stayed in my own place, was so economical, I’ll just lay out the $133 for a spanking new tire, maybe $166 for the Michelen.

+++ Ig Nobel Prize Winners +++           Karl Schwärzler: Economics, 2003. Contact Karl if you want to rent the entire country of Liechtenstein for $70,000 per day. For $60,000 you can rent a mere village in Austria or Switzerland. But for the whole country with the highest standard of living in the world, not a bad deal.
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NIGHT
           Thinking and thinking, that’s why I rarely even listen to a car radio. I did hear lots of overhead at the places I stopped for coffee. It’s the same tire Liberal crap. Continually announcing that Hillary is in the lead, but it’s hogwash. Her entire campaign is anti-Trump rhetoric and she’s sliding fast. She thinks being a woman is so radical, I guess she’s never heard of Thatcher and Ghandi. And if she thinks quoting her “experience” is a positive, she hasn’t been to the movies in a long, long time.

           And that dude with the faggy Millennial voice won’t quit. The one who is a totally indoctrinated anything-goes Libtard. Well, like so many, he is having to change tunes to retain any audience. Where it was once Trump can’t even rate, because he’s a racist, it is now a list of sleazy reasons Trump is winning. “He’s the better name-caller.” Sure, Tyrone, or whatever your name is, you’re the same one who finally admitted Trump didn’t say anything racist, but as far as you are concerned that’s what he meant. Good going.

           That’s right. When Hillary goes up a point or two, it’s a miracle of sanity. But when Trump wins over even the Democratic voters, it’s because he is tricking them. See, I get more politics at the highway coffee shops that I do at home. For the Liberals, let’s not confuse politics with knowledge. I’ll go toe-to-toe on any news issue with any Liberal I ever met. Yet I know zilch about politics—and actually, neither do they.
           So that explains why I got home by mid-afternoon and zonked out until now. Monday morning. Even yard work doesn’t tucker me out like boring newscasters. The picture is the famous Lake Placid underpass, snapped at 45 mph. Trent used to live in Lake Placid, y’know. We talked about the place last day, but like I mentioned to him, I can’t even afford to look at the price tags in that town.

Last Laugh

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