November 18, 2017

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 18, 2016, on Bitcoin.
Five years ago today: November 18, 2012, an amazing coincidence.
Nine years ago today: November 18, 2008, Malaria? In England?
Random years ago today: November 18, xxxx, WIP

           Agt. R said it could be done. And he was right. I drove from Nashville to Lakeland in less that twelve hours. Straight down I-24, through that mess at Atlanta, and down I-75 to the Brooksville 98 turnofff. I took a two hour siesta, so that twelve hours is driving time. Two stops, one for gas, one for the siesta. Breakfast in Nashville, nightcap in Lakeland. Not a bad day, but that amount of driving precludes anything else. Nor is there much to report for scenery or tourist attractions, since it was freeway from dawn to dusk. Thus officially ends Operation Early Monday.

           But that gives me plenty of time to draw conclusions. This was the first major car-camping trip, and it is the way to go. Now I have the incentive to camperize, starting with a memory foam mattress, some real blackout curtains, and better sleeping gear. By that I mean sheets, blankets and a quilt that match the décor. That’s important because during the day, you want the ability to cover up everything so as not to attract looks from the outside. (This is different than the cPod, which drew attention no matter what.)

           What I liked most is the freedom. No check-out time, no need to register or show ID, no need to make reservations. Reservations are a hassle, they put a time limit on what you can do that day. Plus, there is no honest and reliable way to find out what is available in the next town down the road. Everything on-line plays favorites, which I strongly dislike. I’m looking for a room, not a membership.
And trust me, they are watching your every mood. While I can still hear the nothing-to-hide crowd in the background, they never point out that the system is totally designed to take their kind for a ride. Have you every noticed how secretive rich people get? Go figure.

           The photo? That’s the original electric bass used by Johnny Cash’s band, before that he had standup bass. I’ve billed myself for some 25 years as “the bass player Johnny Cash never found”, so I thought this photo was appropriate. Standup bass is one of the more useless instruments ever invented, considering the way it continues to wrongly influence band thinking even today. Anyhow, this is a Fender, the company that started the concept that a bass had to be big and heavy. I call them the ‘warclubs’.

Picture of the day.
Queen Elizabeth, 1944.
(Tappable.)
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           I’m also going to modify a few other things in the camper. One is a large storage battery that will fun fans and LEDs over night. Add a complete set of phone and battery rechargers, and a small icebox. This was also a voyage of discovery for me, since I’ve not slept in a car like this since I was quite young and agile. All’s I’m going to say is I when I was young, I was usually climbing over the front seat in the other direction. Whether you use it or not, get yourself one of those windshield sun screens. I back into my location I’m going to park overnight, so that screen is a double layer of privacy and doesn’t look as out of place as a curtain.

           And, like the camper, I want a complete overhead. That’s a reading lamp, thermometer, alarm clock, flat-screen, and countdown timer visible as one is laying down to go to sleep. That countdown time is a requirement for daylight naps, so you don’t miss things like opening time at the Grand Ole Opry.

           This is a piano at the Johnny Cash Museum. I often like to pause and look at things like this whenever I hear about musicians who grew up in poverty. Funny how most them always had something like this fancy New York Pie-anny in the house. Which means they were no where near living in the poverty I was. Not even close, read my lips, Lunchbox. Not even close.
           What’s even funnier, I guess, is how they all said they were poor but grew up in musical families. Like that isn’t an unbelievable advantage. I grew up in a non-musical family where you could get your head slapped for even pretending to be interested in music. If you got so much time for such stupid ideas like music, get the hell outside and chop firewood until you smarten up. The sad part is so many people still think I’m joking. Sigh.


Last Laugh
(Speed reading test.)

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