October 14, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 14, 2015, leaping to 3%.
Five years ago today: October 14, 2011, praying for the privacy.
Nine years ago today: October 14, 2007, some blogging advice.
Random years ago today: October 14, 2010, looking at electric bicycles.

MORNING
           It’s Friday and I don’t have a gig. Wasn’t Lakeland supposed to be chock full of countrified guitarists chomping the bit and chewin’ baccy? I’ve heard some good ones and bad ones, but nothing kind of in the middle where I need someone. I don’t think I’m going to be able to pursue the Karaoke track thing. I learned one of the tunes the guy gave me as an example. The amount of bass work is identical to playing in a real band, while the guitar part can too easily be comped. For that matter, if I did a Karaoke track thing, I could play the guitar part myself. Yes, I can strum.

           But I’ll never give up bass. Unlike most performing guitarists, my song list changes all the time. Those 90 odd songs I learned for the five-piece group I left? I have not played any of those tunes since. Is it back to my guitar solo work? If I want to meet somebody, that would have to be soon. Winter is a-coming.

           What’s with the picture of all the envelopes? One of the hazards of living in Florida. These were brand new in the box, a year’s supply of 130 envelopes. All thrown out. The humidity has stuck all the flaps shut. I like to use the peel-off type, but they don’t make them in personal size. Or if they do, they don’t sell them in Florida. Why should they, when you know non-business people are not likely to sue your ass off for this kind of low-grade rip off? Oh, it’s a rip off, glue that sets due to moisture in the ordinary air. The same brand of envelope does not stick in Venezuela.

Picture of the day.
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NOON
           My policy of one project on the house per day had me building another shelf and moving cartons around. I long for the day when all that is done so I can return to more cerebral activities on a daily basis. I don’t mind feeding birds and sawing boards providing those don’t remain the high points a little too often. Today’s big event is for the first time I’m sleeping in the master bedroom. Since I bought this place five months ago, I’ve crashed on the sofa in the living room. I always had company or the room wasn’t ready. Always something.

           Here is a picture you are unlikely to ever see in south Florida at any time of the year. Yes, it is my computer work nook, you can make out all the essentials. What is unlikely is the open window. The south is so hot that most new construction does not have windows that can be opened. The few times of year when the weather is hospitable do not justify the cost of natural ventilation. The birdfeeder of semi-fame is located about ten feet outside and you can see the greenery of a shady part of my front yard.
           This was the first window that I unstuck, it was only painted shut. It is strategically placed on the northwest corner of the building, which ensures the best natural air currents, so you bet I opened it and moved my desk as close as possible. This summer was too hot, but on a day like today, ah, paradise. Lots more fresh air in Avalon than in Miami. Plus I can see and hear every movement up and down the entire street.

           October is my fiscal year. You may recall that after buying this place, I was down to brass tacks. Well, that wasn’t the half of it. I didn’t really have the big picture until all the accounts were reconciled this week. And let me tell you this house was one damn close-run thing. I would have persevered but I was more than fortunate that any one of fifty things didn’t go wrong.
           If I ever write my memoirs, I’ll gloss it all over and imply that nothing did go wrong only because I had a viable infrastructure. In fact, the records show during the massive drain caused by the purchase, I still managed to shell out nearly average amounts for all other expenses month after month. Was that a fluke or was it good preparation? I guess we’ll never know. All I’m saying is even one extraordinary problem would have capsized the boat.

           Just my luck, I run into yet another gal who is nice but not my type. Cheery, own house, knows the ropes, but the spark wasn’t there. And I know from experience not to go looking for it. Too bad, because twenty years ago I would have gone looking for her. We talked nearly an hour about living in this area and she twice tried to steer the conversation toward topics I do not normally discuss with women over 24 unless the spark is present. She must have figured I was pretty clueless not picking up on the constant other hints, but I was ducking.

NIGHT
           I didn’t go to the car show on Main since I wanted to continue unpacking and finish the second set of (solid oak) shelving in the work room. I’m a firm believer in lots of shelves. This oak flooring is developing its own story line around here. I correctly piled the pieces in the back yard last June. As some of you know, thanks to my family, I have a certain amount of experience piling lumber. It was neatly and correctly stacked and covered by weighted tarps, but I rapidly noticed it was drying. Or at least drying more than would be expected for old wood. Possibly being indoors had some effect.

           I took small samples and not having a planer, I took surface layers off with the belt sander. There is no real improvement to the wood, which was finished on the “interior” side to a reddish hue. The boards have developed a greyish patina, shown here, and I must say it is very consistent. Even the small segments which stuck out from the tarp and were exposed to the elements turned the same color.
           Here is the lumber, you are looking for the side that was not finished in red stain. Ah, I heard somebody back there say he thought I stated the lumber was neatly piled. It was. This photo was taken moments after I had fished out all the six foot lengths for my new shelving. So there.

           Later, I decided to go downtown and hear the entertainment. It was that guitar player from Charlie Daniels Band, now playing a solo to backing tracks. He’s great and he’s in guitarist heaven. That means he is basically playing lead guitar breaks all evening, very rarely playing a chord except when his lady is singing. We’ll presume it is his wife, so he’s made it as far as a guitar player can go and still not be famous.
           The place was packed and it was mostly couples or women I recognize as paired off hanging out in small groups. For a city, Lakeland still has strong rural ties and I was one of the shortest, smallest men in the place. Mind you, if it had been a contest over who had any class, that would have been an utterly different affair. All the big men had on their tough-guy shirts and the small men, well, let’s just say the women for sure knew I had nothing in common with their antics.

           I had kind of expected another Friday with that ho-hum duo when Mitch was here, so I had taken along a small notebook and pencil. I full well know this is uncharacteristic behavior and yes, ladies, I know exactly which one of you are looking at me and with what degree of interest. There was a blonde with earrings, but when she saw that I saw, instead of smiling she grabbed her smart phone and that killed the moment. That’s okay, a half-hour later her insurance salesman boyfriend showed up.
           Then, as I was ready to leave, that little hottie that always wears the most expensive clothes in town waltzed in. As usual, followed by a string of hopefuls, all blurry-eyed by 9:30PM, the time that I left. Oh, and I did meet a lively one at the library, but in that situation where nothing can happen unless we meet again. Back to the crowd at the pub, I was astounded by the logistics for the women to put on such a great show. I mean, compared to the t-shirt and tattoo Miami crowd, up here I can barely imagine the cost in cosmetics, foundation garments, surgical enhancements, fabrics, footwear, contact lenses, hair colorings, and prep time. Truly astounded.

ADDENDUM
           I read some accounts of the French and German viewpoints on the wars between Napoleon (1815) and the Franco-Prussian (1871). Think of it as the era when industrialization moved from textiles to armaments. A country with the latest in rifles or artillery could trounce an opponent. And this quantum leap in power gave the Europeans a tremendous advantage over nations outside of Europe. The savages could and did attack, and got mowed down.
           This was a real advantage, not the iffy Spanish sword against the Incas theory. Why? Because these new mass-manufactured armaments created a killing zone that mowed down the enemy long before he got into range to use his hand weapons. It also increased the costs of war to the point where the Europeans all planned for short, sharp conflicts that won the war in a single battle.
           It conferred upon Europeans immense relative military might beyond anything they imagined a few years earlier. Imagine handing an Englishman the ability to communicate instantly by radio to a battleship on the other side of the world. So, that means it was not the Germans alone who possessed the concept of Blitzkrieg. They merely perfected the land version of it. The English always wanted to use their navy to "win the war in an afternoon".
           What’s more, “everybody knows” how the Germans circumvented the Treaty of Versailles by making sergeant the lowest rank in the army of 100,000. Well, it turns out they had done that before, several times, actually. Like when Napoleon limited Prussia’s army size. I find that interesting because the version American schoolchildren are taught says this was invented in 1933 by an evil dictator. But that is false. Why would anyone in the USA go through all that trouble to indoctrinate little kids?


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