March 24, 2017

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 24, 2016, MastaKonga is right!
Five years ago today: March 24, 2012, 120 payments of $636.39.
Nine years ago today: March 24, 2008, my last job.
Random years ago today: March 24, 2011, on band “followings”.

           Aha, this photo shows we finally made it to the Fair. Our first stop is traditionally the exhibit hall. You get the rare inspired creating like this “red baron” model. That’s the sort of thing I would have built, given the opportunity. We spent the morning looking for paint and I’ll get back to that. Like most construction topics, we went over in twenty times and wound up back where we started. But going the Fair and spending too much money has a near-traditional aspect to it.

           Once more, I found myself holding the reins. JZ, we cannot go to the fair for ten hours any more. It is best to plan what to see and do. And fill up at home first. I had brought two roast for my stay, I hate to show up empty-handed. JZ, with his restaurant background, views leftover differently than I do. To him, anything not finished in a single setting is leftovers. To me, they are only what is left after a planned number of meals and then taken out of the original pan, wrapped, and put away for later.
           We eat like kings.

           I judge Fair inflation by the price of elephant ears. This time around, they were $7 each. That’s 16% inflation, not the phony 3% the anti-Trump liars are feeding us. I can’t give you the fair pictures all at once, so here’s the afternoon at the Dade County Youth Fair. The one the nearby university tried to shut down and turn into a parking lot. In through Arnold Hall, then all the pushy sales exhibits, out to the petting zoo, then the chicken displays, then hoofing it back to the Chink Tumbl . . . I mean, Chinese acrobats. At this point JZ found the beer gardens and I went to the circus.
           The petting zoo is on to me, they have a sign up now that no outside carrots can be brought in. Besides, the ones I bought were in the crisper and JZ ate them all after I showed him how to roast veggies in the pan. When we walked through the rooster displays, I was confronted by the incredible din, while JZ didn’t notice any sound at all. I attribute this selective deafness to attending family Thanksgiving dinners.

           We did not attend the pig races, as they had been moved to the other end of the fairgrounds and no way I was walking there again. Further, I declined the Ferris wheel since they only set up the small one this year. I ate only at the $2 booth, like a hot dog and a soda. It’s a $2 hot dog and no worse than the $6 dogs at the big booths. The entire midway is now run by one outfit, some name like “American Entertainment”, it’s a corporation and the rides and atmosphere show it.
           The upside is this big outfit has the wherewithal to purchase and keep going some of the traditional shows, like the shooting gallery. Mind you, the BB’s have been replaced by laser beams that are equally inaccurate. That did not deter that sharpshooter old guy from showing up again. It’s neat, he fires two shots to determine how the sights are off.
           Then he knocks down 21 targets with the next 23 shots. But he does it all in less than two seconds. You have to see it to believe it. He kind of just flutters the trigger like a machine gun. You would not want to get into a gun fight with that character. No matter how many people offer to pay for his turn to see it again, he never does. Just walks away.

Picture of the day.
Near Puyallup, Washington.
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           It was not all fun today, we had stopped at the supply stores to find oil-based primer. See, JZ, I was correct, not every place carries it. The background here is that I have no intention of ever painting the house again in my life. Therefore I want the best materials available, where JZ is totally focused on getting a bargain, the lowest price possible. The second issue was the lack of information on whether latex or acrylic paint can be successfully applied as a top coat to this oil based primer. The “obvious” answer is not good enough for me, but finally, I got it in writing. If you look close at the fine print in this photo, that’s the information I really needed.

           It’s par, but JZ wants to drive around town to find this paint at a couple dollars less per gallon. Nope, I’ll pay the extra for the sure thing. The amount of time this paint has been discussed is now approaching twenty hours. But I want the best paint job on the block and I want it to be done right the first time. I really do want it to last the time listed on the label. JZ has not been here to witness the siding and how I’ve investigated what needs doing.

           For example, in the front, I suspected the siding had been put on after the house had settled. That is why the foundation is off, but half-way up the walls, the siding is level. I removed the lowest siding board and noticed a set of kerf cuts. So, I was wrong about the method. Somebody took and straighted the original siding while it was already hanging on the building. I’m going to retain the original color of the building unless somebody gives me a very good reason to do otherwise.

           And here’s a shot of the interior of the vehicle JZ wants to get rid of. The guy is spoiled and that is that. Over the yeas, the manufacturers have included more and more luxury features as standard. At this point, the average vehicle has power everything. That’s what you see here. Remember the Taurus? It had power options I never used or knew were there until years later when I went to sell it.

           If I said wrong before, this is a Chevy Trailblazer. JZ says it has brake problems. They are imperceptible. The bottom line here is he wants a fancy unit like the one he had before. He’s still the guy convinced you can’t get chicks unless you have a fancy house and car. He even refers to the truck as a car. Myself, I have no such requirements to go find women, but he will not budge. And for some reason, this fancy truck is below his standards. It’s attitude, folks. If I can find women with a motorcycle, there is no reason he needs a $20,000 vehicle just to talk to them. But, when it comes to women, I’m no team coach, and he can do it his own way.
           Say, we got to joking about Camp Good Counsel. This is where I get to rib the guy about where all his fussiness came from. So this new truck is bringing all that out again. Well, you see, JZ, if you gone to a summer camp and had to peel your own spuds and chop your own firewood, you’d know that women don’t think like that—at least not the women you want to have anything to do with. Bwaaaa-ha-ha-ha. This irks old JZ because I think he really liked that camp. Hey, so would I JZ, what, with all archery lessons and canoe rides. Double bwaaaa-ha-ha-ha!
           It works back at me too, for to this day he does not believe me about Camp Whitney, where they put up the chicken wire between us and the girls on campfire night. You see, back then girls didn’t know or even think about sex until they were, what, sixteen or something? But yes, our camp really did put up wire fencing and made the boys and girls sit on opposite sides. Singing, “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain When She Comes.” There is a cruel mindset to camp counselors that way.

One-Liner of the Day:
“I should go look for my missing watch
but I can’t find the time.”
ADDENDUM
           The usual displays were there, the endless shelves of popsicle stick cabins by kids who didn’t know or care what a youth fair was all about. Same in my day. I went to the fairs to get out of our little town, to have an adventure, and to meet “city girls” because everybody in the 5th grade knew was aware the city girls knew how to “do it”. My interest in this science goes back a long ways.

           Since there was no way of knowing how the displays were graded, we looked at most of them. One was a sandbox, though it was that polymer sand. I liked this one, it showed a little ingenuity. Buried in the sand were seashells and the idea was to use one of the scoops to sift out a shell, then compare it to a nearby chart. Afterward we found the only coffeeshop on the fairgrounds, in Arnold Hall. (“Where in the hall is Arnold?”)

           If you notice, you can see JZ marching in the front entrance. “You always look like you’re headed somewhere.” That’s what his dad used to say. Yeah, well JZ thought the place was full of good-looking women. He makes that mistake every year.
           As we emerged, JZ says to look over there, the seashell exhibit had twenty kids crowded around. He says I was right, that it was the best exhibit. Why, just look at them kids fighting to get a turn. I hated to inform him that was because when nobody was looking, some passerby had thrown a handful of pocket change into the sand. After all, boys will be boys.


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