One year ago today: August 20, 2015, microcomputer demo.
Five years ago today: August 20, 2011, I married 35 women.
Nine years ago today: August 20, 2007, did I write that?
Random years ago today: August 20, 2012, corruption at the wheelchair level.
MORNING
I had to put my prettiest picture of today first. Here is my stab at nature photography. That’s the bushes by my side door being visited by a butterfly, species unknown to me. I still can’t get the hang of the macro feature on this camera and the manual is no help. Took thirty tries to get this shot.
She’s gone, but the database is still here. I think I’ll test the year 2012, a particularly great year, using a spreadsheet. Plus, I would like to see any pattern changes when Google took out the video feature. I see the individual records (the daily posts) are generated by a key using whatever is in the title text box and the date. Fortunately, I’ve been consistent with that, though a few times I’ve hit the enter key too soon. Such anomalies will become obvious if I proceed. I’ve always wished this blog had an index or table of contents.
For those who are not sure what I’m up to, the links in the “Yesteryear” section at the top of each blog these days has proven popular. Each link has to be individually copied and pasted. Writing the daily blog takes [minimum] 18 minutes. Getting these links together takes another 12 and those minutes have to be on-line.
I’m finding new favorite radio stations. This is still Florida, so any distant good stations are drowned out by Latino talk radio, on and on about their “problems” and how rough they’ve got it, how ill-done-by they are, 24/7. I hear the Zika virus is the next fake issue, since the ebola scare didn’t distract the masses.
My question remains, how do the radio stations know which sham cause to take up so Joe Stupid gets distracted from the fact he hasn’t had a real raise since 1976. The answer is also the same—the stations are all owned by the same religion, er, I mean, corporations. If you are born rich, the smartest commodity Great Britain ever exported to America was the faceless corporation. And just in time, for the damn English were beginning to catch on.
As for the guitar work last evening, I will note the guy, in a couple of songs, began to make a few concessions toward playing what sounded right. This is substantially different that playing the “guitar part”. While I use this modified technique in almost every tune, he only did it twice. The best example was “Momma’s Got A Squeezebox”, where he actually played the accordion part. Alas, that was too late at night for most of the crowd to notice and the band began running out of material by third set—and they were not good at faking.
Now, where most of the world would have “really liked” the bass playing, I did not. While it was reasonable, it was totally the kind of bass I do not play. Most textbook walking runs in the background, the type of bass playing a guitar player would tell you is “exactly what he’s looking for”—a busy bass that backs up his lead breaks. It is mostly guitarists who place great store in this “walking bass” style with “passing notes” to fill in any unrehearsed chord changes they make, which but for their egos, would be called “mistakes”.
Sadly a lot of guitar players out there have seen or heard this type of obsequious bass playing often enough to consider it.
Canal lock. (Video.)
NOON
At 12:00PM sharp I hear this shaking in the yard. It was the neighbor mowing my lawn. He’s got one of those industrial tractors that makes it look like fun. Now I don’t feel so guilty. What happened is he found it at the city supplier with a broken clutch, which turned out to be a loose return spring on the control lever. He got it for $499. Now I don’t feel guilty at all.
I strolled over for a look. This photo shows the run-down exterior. The interior, that is a situation. You can’t see it well, but the roof on this building is brand new. But inside, it is gutted to the rafters. There is a building permit on the siding dated 2011 but nothing has been done past that new roof. It seems solid enough inside, but all that lathe and plaster has to go.
When I can train the neighbor’s dog to quit barking at me, I’ll see if I can stick my camera in one of the broken windows and get a shot. Around back, mind you, there is one excellent machinery shed. Three bays with a living quarter above.
Ha, Trump scores another late-game goal with the “what have you got to lose” approach. The opposition is infuriated, saying he is playing to a block of voters with unrealistic and stereotyped views of problems, especially inner city problems. Good one. Don. I don’t know about the issues, but I know they are aware nobody was listening to them. Let’s see how unrealistic they are on voting day.
Yet, Mr. Trump, I cannot turn on the radio most days without hearing about people “resisting” arrest. It didn’t used to be like that. It is past the point to begin suspecting our noble police are setting these people up. It’s leaving the impression that if a citizen does not cower or confess in the presence of the police, he is committing a crime. In fact, the citizen has the right to resist and unreasonable arrest. Something funny is going on.
And while your are there, Don, don’t forget to do something about illegal confinement. There is no doubt police are purposely standing in front of the vehicles of people who have a right to leave. There is no valid reason the police have to stand in front of a vehicle while the driver is behind the wheel-think about it. They are doing it to pull the old “assault” stunt.
Your police may be noble and misunderstood, but they are also real pricks if they want publicity. They are not going to get the public support you envisage if they continue to act in this disrespectful manner. They are essentially breaking the law by preventing a person from leaving when he has a right to do so. Quit using your police as traffic cops, that would be a good start.
[Author’s note: Can anyone tell me who Rambabu Vasupilli is? And why is he trying to contact me? Whomever you are, quit trying to sent me e-mail, it gets junked because I do not know who you are. Also, I do not do Facebook, LinkedIn, or any social media which does not allow users to delete their accounts and information. I see your name is associated with programming and software, but that is not an automatic introduction nor a guest pass to the inner circle.]
AFTERNOON
I’m investing in comfortable rocker-recliners. The overstuffed models they sell at big lots for $300 each. I just want oomphy, not something with a thirty-year guarantee, know what I mean? There’s a video around of me testing these chairs. Soon, I’ll get to park my ass on a chair like I never had before. By comparison, the model I liked best was twice the size of the “sleep magnet”, the old chair I’m leaving behind at the trailer court.
Like many new people in town, he feels there has to be a place where people like him hang out and all he has to do is find it. I must have failed to adequately explain that young people between 18 and 36 disappear to the nearest cities, and don’t come back unless they land flat on their asses out there. He was convinced otherwise, so finally, I took the wheel and drove him to the only cocktail lounge in the entire area. And showed him the Saturday crowd was three bald guys playing pool That’s shaved bald, not naturally bald, so bring your switchblade.
There are places in the east end, but you are not going to walk in there and find a room of people with their noses in a smart phone. In fact, my advice to anyone moving to even a semi-rural area is to find a deep lake. Then throw your smart phone into the deepest part of that lake. Find a hobby other than gossip and adultery. And stick with it. I’m ex-phone office and thus no company for people who need people. To me, going to a bar to even play pool or darts is depending on others to provide part of the entertainment and that is not going to work out for you. Read my lips, that is not going to work out for you.
NIGHT
Last stop of the day was Wal*Mart, where I see they have quarter bales of hay for sale at $8 bucks a pop. Man, am I in the wrong business. Mind you, it is dustless, spotless, and chigger-less hay, dry and air-cleaned. But at that price, it better be. So, to take your gal up to the hayloft I figure would cost you $240 just for the backrest.
So at night, I rode my bike over to the club for a couple when in walked Agt. M. See, I told you there was nothing out there. I fully understand the attraction of the city, with its seemingly greater array of attractions. I say seemingly, because just knowing they are there is a boost even if you never go. He bought another new phone, which his generation seems to go through regularly, and asked if I wanted to log on. In a bar? I asked if he wanted to use my pencil to write anything. Of course not. You want folks should think he’s antisocial! That’s how we operate, gang. We are a robot club, not the goddam welcoming committee.
You Millennials remember to get the newest protector for the cover layer for the case for the shell for the skin for the shield for the phone jacket wrapper container.
And I’ll take a stab at predicting the gold market, which I don’t follow unless something says trouble. Watch for a quick doubling in price, then a flattening as the artificial controls kick in. Silver has been recovering instantly from the bank manipulations, but overall is puttering along, building up behind the damn.
ADDENDUM
If you are missing the Darwin book reports, that’s right. I left the book back at the trailer court. Maybe tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’m still settling in at the new digs and this time, I finally got to use the appliances as intended. This is all new to me, I never had my own place since, let me calculate, 1979. I was a renter. I did not ever know that much about appliances, so bear with me on this one.
Notice the single aisleway between the stove and fridge. This will never do. Yes, that is a muffin tin from this morning, and the counter space seems full because I had just done the dishes and placed things to dry. But as you see, once dry, there is still no place to put things.
The fridge works like new so save myself a thousand bucks right there. It is a big fridge, with the overtop freezer. Cool mist swirls around the kitchen when you swing the door open, though I don’t know if that is good or bad. Sure looks neat. But is the stove what impressed me. It’s a brand name and has features I never knew. When you set the oven knob manually, there is a digital readout. So you really get 425°. Now it makes sense why JZ always thought I was overkill with my oven thermometer. He’s always had fancy stoves where as the last time I cooked regularly, as in over months at a time, was on a wood stove.
And the stove timer. That’s neat. It not only dings when the oven reaches operating temp, it times the baking for you. Lah-dee-dah. So instead of paying attention to baking, you can text on your smart phone. Anyhow, I went out of my way to follow the directions completely and the muffins turned out perfect. Uncannily perfect. Almost floated out of the pan by themselves
So the bottom line here is I don’t have to replace any appliances. Meaning I essentially got 10% of the purchase price of this property in appliances that were so new I didn’t recognize what I was gaining. Hence, that budget goes almost entirely into renovating the kitchen to a more workable layout. I’ve already measured out 7-1/2 feet of extra cabinets to go in. If you can see part of the kitchen drawers, they don’t slide out due to the floor settling. That affects the kitchen as well, even the doors stick a bit.
The kitchen itself, not just the cupboards, still needs redoing. That limited counter space makes it essentially a one-person operation. For me, this won’t do. Call it the Texas thing, but it ain’t home unless two people can cook at once AND you can see from the kitchen straight into the pantry, living room, dining room, the porch out one window, and the driveway out the other." (You know where that is from? Me. I wrote that. Homespun, or what.) Even the limited company I’ve had since my divorce still reflects the need for that community kitchen. Canan, Julie, even when I visit Alaine, the major visiting gets done in the kitchen to this day.
You think I should write a short book on that topic? How to know your women by kitchen behavior. Or the merits of the larger kitchen. Even JZ’s luxury condo, the kitchen is mapped out so really, there is only passage for one. And same as what I’ve got now, you get to open the oven or the fridge, pick one. And since discovering my as-new appliances will save me $1,800, suddenly I want a kitchen like the best. I’ve always been jealous of Alaine’s kitchen but never said so.
The kitchen was her own design. When they moved in, there was a wall along the dining area. It sort of made the kitchen into a servant’s quarters. They took that wall out and added a clever counter around the entire alcove for that Homes & Gardens effect. I instantly glommed onto it, knowing the major psychological impact of company being able to see and smell the food being prepared. I said I liked Alaine; I never promised I wouldn’t copy her kitchen.
Last Laugh
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