July 18, 2017

Yesteryear
One year ago today: July 18, 2016, I wouldn’t read the comic . . .
Five years ago today: July 18, 2012, my famous ‘report lesson’.
Nine years ago today: July 18, 2008, remember the tiny fig tree?
Random years ago today: July 18, 2013, define 50%.

           The circuits in the living room required more planning than I thought. The bathroom needs some recessed fixtures and a ducted fan, neither of which I’ve done before. Listen when I tell you I have had trouble in the bedroom getting the electrical boxes to line up with the drywall. Seriously, this should be the easiest thing to do, but even some of the old work was out of alignment when I replaced the drywall. The most serious immediate problem is that the bathroom has no air conditioning. Once the door is closed, the summer heat begins to build. I can’t find anything that addresses this problem.

           I’m thinking the best thing is a fan that creates negative pressure to draw in cool air from the rest of the house, but am I on the right track? I haven’t removed any floorboards yet, but I may get lucky with all the new cable runs bunched together right down the center of the floor, where it is easiest to work. I’ve got diagrams made up for closet lights as well. The place lacks anything that fancy but I can fix that. The work is proceeding nearly twice as fast now that I’ve got experience, but don’t expect miracles.

           Here’s the first two runs going along the exterior walls, pretty much regulation stuff, but I am mounting some outlets 36” up the wall to accommodate a computer desk. Nobody likes having to move heavy furniture to get at an outlet buried behind a workstation. If you are like me, computer equipment regularly involves unplugging things and unsightly power bars. This corner is where I plan to place my desk, where once again I can sit and look out the window at the world. Kind of keep an eye who’s up and down the street. That old drywall is coming down so I can insulate the walls.
           JZ called to say he may be out this Saturday. Good, if he actually makes it [out here] after a year, I’ll have that hardwood floor torn up in one day. And it spurs me on to get this electrical done asap. I’m seriously considering one of those soundproof walls with the staggered studs. The renovation involves one single partition twelve feet long, simple as you’ll ever get. Then I have a two bedroom. The trick is to get that floor level first. I can see around town this is no isolated problem. Some of the older structures have just been let go to seed, like I wonder who is living in them and how.

           One thing that’s changed is prices. They have generally gone up by half, there are no bargains left in town. This is a bubble, mind you. Like Miami, there are no local jobs that pay enough for new people to buy anything, hence the pyramid has no solid base. There are fixer-uppers, but a goodly number of them are being demolished, including the duplex I had been eyeing for JZ. Yep, he’s missed the boat on the real estate so he’ll have to wait for the next one. If there is a dip in the market, I’m ready to swoop in. Once again, the insiders hope prices go up, the outsiders want them down, and since I deal in hard money, I’m rooting for both sides.
           Nor do I mind waiting for the market to move. I stated back in the last century how I intentionally did not watch a lot of “TV movies”, saving that for retirement. Funny, with all that’s going on I don’t feel retired, but let’s get back to the movies. When I made that plan, there was no such thing as DVDs, only those finicky Video Home System players that beat out Sony Betamax (because Sony would not license to the porno industry). On any given afternoon I can walk through the breezy aisles of Wal*Mart and see massive bins of movies I’ve not seen yet. Today’s selection is “Must Love Dogs”, a romantic comedy about how difficult it is for older unattached types to hook up. (I did not say single, I said unattached.)

Picture of the day.
Chicago.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           In the meanwhile, I’ve continued reading a few pages at a time of Clancey’s “Every Man A Tiger”. It is not the standard Clancey work, but a lengthy critique of the air force. While many would find some pretty shocking disappointments in there, my background of military studies means things are pretty much as I expected. There is no corruption in America for the same reason there is no prostitution in Thailand—it isn’t illegal. All western militaries have become budget-conscious bureaucracies infighting for dollars. Tactics dictated top-down have little relevance at combat levels.

           Most of it [the book] is personal squabbling between pilots turned instructors and consultants. They are at odds with the management. The occasional gem keeps me reading. Like how a carrier based mission costs ten times as much as the same mission carried out by land-based aircraft. And Trump addressed the problem of the units receiving weapons they never asked for, although to date all he has done is talk. The real war being fought is between the military departments with each other while all the time presenting a seamless picture of fighting efficiency to the media. It is just how it is done.

           This obvious contradiction is similar to the phone company. They advertise they want the best independent thinkers to join up. But if you try any of that thinking nonsense once you are on the inside, you become the loose cannon. Hypocrisy breeds with hypocrisy and the offspring are spoiled nepotists. The three situations where the Peter Principle is applied ardently to family groups are the phone company, the military, and Nashville country music. Yes, it’s true, I’ve mentioned it before. Of the top 218 top-selling country stars out of Nashville, around 190 of them are, however distantly, related. (Johnny Cash, my hero, was an outsider.)

Quote of the Day:
“Horse sense is what keeps the horse
from betting on people.”
~ W.C. Fields.
           I spent a lovely evening pulling more wire and sketching out the wiring courses to ensure no two consecutive outlets are on the same breaker. Have you seen those outlets with the USB charging ports built in? They’re a healthy $30 each but I’ve decided on at least one. (The cheaper ones don’t match my décor. The outlets are 120V AC and the ports are 5V DC. Does anyone else wonder what happens if you accidentally plug in a flash drive instead of a recharger? We’ll soon find out. Some weeks ago, I had promised this lady a sample of Trader Joe’s onion and garlic jam, so I dropped it off, once again forgetting Karaoke has changed to Tuesday. It’s that club where old people, many of them almost my age, sing a lot of Broadway tunes.

           This is prime territory for me, as it makes my country-based music shine. Since I usually bring along my scribbler, I have lots to do besides sit around waiting for my turn. It’s a sight to see how many people endure the bad singers just to get their turn, then act so surprised when their name is called. It’s part of the ritual, but anyway, there I am doodling away when this lady starts to chat me up. This is interesting because of the frequency which this happens, which is quite often actually. At the same time, you can handily conclude that it is very rarely the sort of women that I find desirable, and yes, I mean “that way”.

           Such was the case this evening. Sometimes you meet one that you just plain feel sorry for, but not enough to do the pity thing. This lady was 110% stereotypical of your senior citizen. Same age as me, but old, old, old. This is not vanity talking, this lady and I took divergent paths in life at least forty years ago, possibly fifty. This gal did what she was told, evidenced by how she was so, what’s the word, brainwashed? How she went on about our similarity in age. Ma’am, that’s some dating criteria. Do you even own a scribbler? From the word go, it was plain this one wasn’t renovating her own house or going on stage next weekend. Nonetheless, I listened to what she had to say.
           Divorced three times, four grandchildren, empty-nester, chronic TV-watcher, three cats, humorless, a solid pillar of the community, active in the church. Divorced in 1985, 1996, and 2007, talk about your emergent outline. I’m no prize either (although that is a judgment call) but when you live your life by the book instead of reading it, you are going to have definite marketing problems down the line. Dating women who have nothing to lose is risky business, pal. I didn’t answer 90% of her questions because we were not even on the same planet. Think about it, there’s a reason these women approach me and not the other way around.

           That raises the question of would I hit on a woman whom I saw doing something intellectual? Like working a crossword, or reading a textbook, or even sharpening her own pencil. Dunno, it’s never happened.


Last Laugh
(Trouble brewing.)

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