One year ago today: January 16, 2016, worst computer mistakes in history.
Five years ago today: January 16, 2012, he likes diner swill.
Nine years ago today: January 16, 2008, he reads over your shoulder.
Random years ago today: January 16, 2014, comments on Canada.
MORNING
I’m as disappointed as anyone that five days have gone by without a [blog] post. I’ve got them coming through in a batch now. This does a real number on my readership, and I’ve missed a number of long weekends like this by using the library. This MFLK closure took me by surprise and I didn’t go in Friday, thinking Saturday would do. Wrong. So, that brings me again to finding the cheapest word processor I can use to pick up WiFi. (Nobody has ever explained the difference between WiFi and wireless Internet to me, so I use the terms interchangeably.)
Anything is better than having my readership drop to 50 per day, which happened over the Xmas long weekend. I’ve toyed with these small computers before and they have no hard drive, meaning you get stuck with what’s in memory. As usual, there is nobody in my vast network of acquaintances that will know a single blessed thing about the pros and cons of this tablet. I see a keyboard and a screen, please surprise me that the Millennials have left it at that. Who remembers the time Agt. M and I tried to delete all the shopping links from an Android?
There is heavy advertising for some parade/festival called “Gasparilla” this upcoming weekend in Tampa. Thanks to that lying jerk who ripped me off on the Honda, I have no easy transportation. Don’t worry, he’s about to get his right where it really hurts. Myself, I’m avoiding the area anyway as I find that town characterless. There’s a live theater over in Lake Wales that’s a better bet for me. How I love to pull up in front wearing dress shirt and tie on the sidecar. The Gasparilla is a pirate themed celebration but the fine print says it is sponsored by the Seminole organization. Like their carnivals. Nobody every shows up, but they do it to feign they are anything but a casino.
Dowels. I need more practice cutting wood better than I do learning dowels. I was up late so fastened two wood scraps which I will test to destruct after the glue dries. It’s a no-brainer, but I couldn’t get the marking pins to fit right and I had trouble getting the holes drilled precisely in the center of the wood, although this doesn’t seem to be all that important. The instructions say to clamp the wood. I have lots of clamps, but nothing that does that. We’ll see. Here’s a photo of the learning curve. These pictures are from last evening.
Later, the joint seems more than strong enough for most purposes, including a door. As for the imperfections in the way I saw boards, well, I have two belt sanders for that. This blasted “holiday” means I’ll be working on the shed. I have a plan to bolster the roof using eleven 2’x4’s and running a coat of patching tar over the outside. Additionally, some of that 35 year silicon just to see if it lasts that long. The roof will be the most elaborate part of the shed, as the limited headroom means I’ll be using joist hangers and plywood gussets.
About two seconds later.
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[Author’s note: this picture is one of the most misunderstood of the era. The anti-war faction took it to mean cruelty and arbitrary justice by the South Vietnamese authorities and used the photo as a rallying point. The truth is quite different. The man with the gun was a South Vietnamese nationalist who fought against American interference in Vietnam.
The prisoner being shot was Lem, a Viet Minh sabotage leader. (Viet Cong is wrong, it is derogatory term. The correct phrase is Viet Minh.) At 4:30 that morning, Lem tried to force a Vietnamese prisoner, a colonel, to show him how to drive a tank. When he refused, Lem slit the throats of the colonel’s wife, six children, and octogenarian grandmother. Lem was arrested beside a mass grave of 34 civilians, he was already condemned to death when he was shot.
Note the man with the gun was later wounded in battle, losing a leg. He died of cancer in Virginia in 1975. The American photographer later apologized to him and his family for the damage the picture did to his reputation. But as we know, mainstream American media prints apologies and retractions “on page 37, below the salami ads”.]
NOON
I filled the birdfeeder just before nightfall y’day. The seed, due to gravity, is a slight easier to peck out of the feeding holes when full, so the northern cardinals, Mr. & Mrs. Red, have just een going to town. They don’t feed in pairs, but sequentially, so I’m considering a second feeder in the back yard, the mini-garden area where the bedroom window looks out. I’ve tentatively planned for that to be a type of hidden garden, what’s the fancy name for those? Yeah, something like that. Because of where I left that massive tree stump, this could easily be made into a truly unique setting. But many moons from now.
Ha, this just in. The cardinals are noisy feeders, kind of a warning chirp. This attracts other birds. Usually these are small bandits that cleverly light on the opposite side of the cardinal, grab one seed, a poof. A moment a go, a much larger bird, a super healthy blue jay, tried to grab a snack. Purely by chance (I built the feeder from what fit the piece of wood I had) the jay could not both perch and bob for the seeds. Either his head hit the feeder eave or he lost footing. What a magnificent sight. Sorry, too fast for pics.
Y’know, I got an idea. Why don’t I build a door for the work shed today? That will give me practice with dowel work, window installation (I found two pieces of glass the right size when clearing the shed) and maybe learn some things before I work on the screen door. Talk to you later, dude.
Four hours later, here is the door from start to finish. I left out the window. The frame was easy, all dowel work which not only was easy, it was efficient. Drill, glue, clamp. I add those expensive saw blades are worth the extra price. I sliced up the 1”x4”s shown here almost effortlessly. I didn’t clamp this door frame because you see how I salvaged the old door metal. This was a foolish thing, time-wise. I had the frame done within the first hour, but that metal frame was badly crumpled and had been factory built with staples that rusted. These pictures are from today.
The major labor was getting the metal straight again and fitting it into the new frame. I finally wound up just cutting the old staples and flattening them into place. First and third photos are kind of a before and after. That last picture is the door already hung on the shed. This was a prefab and the door was right-handed, quite inconvenient for getting equipment in and out of the shed, as you had to walk around the open door. As shown here, I changed it to left-handed. It is a little off because I haven’t fixed the roof yet. That kitchen screen door is going to be easy now.
Dowels were intuitive and I am very pleased with the results. My other shed needs the doors rejuvenated, and I still would like an opening to the south, or at least put the window there so I can see the yard while I’m inside. It’s a snap to get instructions off the Internet provided you know what to avoid. If you look at the first panel, the picture of the raw door frame, you can see how the bottom runner is twice as wide as the other two. I got that information on-line.
I am now half-convinced there is a razor blade plot. You can’t go anywhere now and pick up one of the 10+2 packs for $3.99. The Bic brand, for that matter, you can’t even find those any more. Instead, you get these insane brands with three, four, and five blades. I’ve tried them, they are a waste of money. After the first swipe, you get five blades clogged instead of two. Another scam to watch for is the “sensitive” or “sensitive skin” blades. They don’t work, period. Not even in very fine whiskers like mine.
“I'll Tennessee You In My Dreams.”
AFTERNOON
This is a little off the topic, but it is related to the work this morning. The shed will just fit a display of 250,000 toothpicks with enough room to work around them. That’s way better circumstances than when the original was built in Jamie’s living room and patio. Those toothpicks are destined to be my discretionary income if I make it to told age. Here is a rare photo of me in 2003, at the San Diego Fair. Guest of the radio station, we made the record private donation to charity that year. Not bad for a non-corporation.
It was unknown at the time, but this was just months before my first heart attack. Note that although I was already nearly bald, I had no beard and my hair and moustache were still dark blonde. I was unexplainedly putting on weight, you can see I was starting to get heavy-set. It was a scant month after this photo I paid $800 for a dietary consultation, to be told my weight gain was nothing more than my natural aging process. I gained a total of 60 pounds and landed in the emergency room. Natural aging, my eye—I saw the tunnel.
The dimensions of the shed and the door today are geared toward the refurbishing of these displays. I have yet to create any better way of holding the toothpicks in batches of 100 than good only elastic bands, but they have badly deteriorated inside the cases. Also, the cases were empirically designed and were many time stronger—and heavier—that was ever required. As shown, the display is close to 700 pounds. I plant to get that down to 280. And I look forward to the work now that I finally have the proper tools.
NIGHT
Aren’t you glad you kept on reading all the way down to here? I have some strange gossip, always a treat. We now know why our guitar player rap singer from the west end has not been calling. The people from the Thursday jam walked into Happy Hour and showed me the picture of my guitar man in the orange pajamas. Yep, he’s in the slammer. Not just charged, but held without bail. That explains why his phone goes to recording. I’m not cashing in on the humor here, in fact, I’m really disappointed. So much so that I won’t go into detail about this early twenties lady who reminded me of my ex. Big time.
She was skinny, she was tall, she was blonde, and played guitar. Sang, too. I can forgive unbelievable shortcomings in a woman whose father is 20 years my junior. She spent an hour hipping and boobing me, but I could not cash in—she had come in with a person I know. She meant it, this was no frisky and/or drunk fooling around. I found out later it was a first date for her and my pal. She was very specific about being at the upcoming jam session. If she is serious, I’ll personally thank the stars, on my hands and knees.
Whatever you do, don’t underestimate what could happen here. Even if it never does. She lacks the spark of my ex, but that would hardly slow me down. I could even overlook the tattoos.
[Author’s note: time for a mini-lecture on the above incident. This blog does not normally even touch on my private life, but if I did, I would gain nothing by bragging. I get more than most by just walking in the door—but I’m after quality and that’s why I’m always bitching. Nothing happened tonight, however at my age the touchie-feelie gets top billing, I mean, how often do I get sidled up to by 23-ish gal, much less one with a perfect body. I would have responded, but as stated, she came in with somebody. I don’t go there.
Am I exaggerating? You can decide yourself. As an entertainer, I get more attention that average from young women, most of which I don’t even bother to mention. The bottom line here is whether or not I’m just barking this time. I have no need to embellish the score. She made it clear she was on a first date and unattached. My rule prevails: if you arrive with someone, you leave with that same person.]
That Cuban across the way is slow on the pickup. He tried running his truck at 6:30AM instead of 4:30, but the city inspector was there Saturday morning. I’m fairly sure it is the lesbians up the road who are using the complaint hotline. They are the only ones home 24/7, although I know they must get o.ut, I have never seen them leave the house or yard in all these months. They let their dogs out to bark, but the dogs know me by now and the most I get is a perfunctory “Ruff”. A rather dispirited one at that.
ADDENDUM
When I began to experiment with the dowels last day, there were no clear instructions about which glue to use. I tried several. The mark “Hard As Nails” was best, but it was also brittle. Of what I tried, this one was the best. Elmer’s WoodGlue Max. That’s Max, the interior variety has too many warnings on the label. However, my favorite for very small projects remains good old Bridgeport School Glue. Be advised, however that this glue dries clear, which sounds like a plus, but it is a bright and sparkly clear you can see from two feet away. Just so you know, as it can make a difference when you don’t want it to.
So what I’ll do is nip into the lumber yard next time I’m in the east end and go through their door section until I find a simple design that I like. I want the screen door to be rustic and to that end, I’m hauling out my router. The “panels” on the door should still have a bit of flourish, kept simple, as in the end, I would like them to match the screens I now know I can build myself for the front porch. For reasons unknown, my kitchen door is 1-3/8 inches wider than usual. And I just spilled tea all over my keyboard. See you at Wal*mart.
Last Laugh
Really tight pants.
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