July 13, 2017

Yesteryear
One year ago today: July 13, 2016, aw, the duckies again.
Five years ago today: July 13, 2012, my $13 circuit.
Nine years ago today: July 13, 2008, missing post.
Random years ago today: July 13, 2010, I manage 27 tunes.

           Once again awakening to the thunderous news that the evil Russians got Trump elected, I basically stayed put all day waiting for the confirmation on my vehicle parts. This is a progress shot on the green machine for those who may harbor any doubts that my equipment is worked on only by the best pro shop in town. Sorry I can’t get a better angle on this puppy, it is over 15 feet long. In the end, our signals got crossed. The parts arrived, but I had asked him to confirm, while he had asked me to just drop by. Between his English and my Spanish, I sat reading all day in Snapper Creek. Which is only a lightning strike away from the nearest electrical substation.

           I finished “King Solomon’s Mines”, the classic novel by Haggard. No, no, Glen, the other Haggard. This style of book was not pressed on us in Lit class. I knew it by reputation and the book thus held very few surprises. Yet the impact in its day must have been hard to miss. Finally, I learn to Allan Quatermain is. A big game hunter who is all about cause and effect as long as it gets him out of those tight spots he keeps finding when he looks hard enough.

           Book review. You can hardly wait, I can tell. Okay, Haggard must have already been well-to-do, as he was far too well-informed than England would have sported in a working class individual of the day, which was the latter part of the 1800s. I surmise this much because there is no mention of his having been in the military. He had knowledge of Zulu customs, diamond mining, and the latest inventions. His writing balances these rather keenly in the sense that he writes only what he knows for sure. This explains to me why his writing is still so readable today.
           It is a book for daydreaming boys, so I liked it. Alas, Hollywood movies have turned most of the chapters in clichés. I’d say read the book to say you’ve done so, as I did. The plot is entirely shallow, the sort that eventually becomes the script for Indiana Jones. There are few surprises, but one that got me was the cave of the dead. The tribe placed its dead chiefs under the dripping of stalactites to mummify them. The rest of the imagery is fairly ho-hum regular. I understand the book was written in a hurry, and it shows.

Picture of the day.
Arkansas River, Colorado.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           During this trip, I read another book on Hawaiian vegetation and a work on the economics of the old Spartan wars. How they would have conquered more but they kept running out of money. However, I can sleep through anything, so between waiting all day and these exciting books that JZ has by the boxful I think I slept 16 or 18 hours today. When JZ got back, I talked him into heading out to Target to get me a new frog suit, which he considers a waste of money. That’s likely because he doesn’t drive a motorcycle. I wanted a suit dedicated to the Rebel, as I have one each for the other motorcycles in my life.

           Oh look, a photo of some Aqua Velva, aromas of the 1950s. This is a back-up supply I keep in Miami for a number of reasons. What? You want to know a few of them? Okay, reason number one is that Aqua Velva caps do not fit right. If you carry them in your luggage, they will always leak. The product is good enough if you walk into any of the clubs JZ would go on his own, or if you got a surprise job interview at the civil service. Otherwise, the scent is so out-dated that even JZ won’t use it all up. The guy also hates newer products, like anything by Axe. It has proven impossible to convince the guy how much women notice these things. Other than that, I have no explanation how this photo got here.

Quote of the Day:
“A casual stroll through the insane asylum
shows that faith does not prove anything .”
~ Nietzsche
           Cooped up all day, I noticed for the first time there is a show on public broadcasting. I knew about NPR, but not about the TV show. Before you laugh, ask yourself how I could possibly have known there was such a thing. I know as much about television as most people do about my hobbies. Alas, like the radio broadcast, it is one or two good moments, then nothing but filler. I managed to watch a show on cabinetry and these two guys taking forever to carve a wooden bowl. Then the station started with the cooking shows. End of my television watching for the period.

           That’s when I noticed JZ’s crate of phonograph albums. He’s got a tinny record player that he cranks too loud. I went through the collection and quickly concluded these were hand-me-downs from his family. But there were some gems in there such as an original Elvis still in the plastic wrap. Some Moody Blues, Journey, and then a stack of Xmas efforts by Bing Crosby and some movie soundtracks. The kind that disillusioned parents think will wean their issue off the teen music of the day. I found a Beach Boys album and played that.

           I confess, I was searching for music that I would play. Nothing, but it was curious to hear the Beach Boys a half-century later. All the early studio techniques and the amateurish way the albums were slapped together. In a way, these guys were real pioneers. Mind you, if you listen, their four-part harmonies are often more like two and three parts, and sound overdubbed at times. Ah, memories of Pearl and I out in her sister’s Mustang, listening to the Beach Boys. Or at least, hoping that is what everybody thought was going on.
           The above picture is the same unopened album which I am now pricing out.


Last Laugh

++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Return Home
++++++++++++++++++++++++++