One year ago today: December 24, 2016, at the Olga Mall.
Five years ago today: December 24, 2012, young but not youthful.
Nine years ago today: December 24, 2008, another flunked database idea.
Random years ago today: December 24, 2013, annual Xmas party.
It’s been ages since I found something I liked that was on my diet. If you get a chance, try these. Freeze-dried strawberries. Two ingredients, strawberries and sugar. And I’m tending to believe that sugar is not as bad for anyone as the newspapers report. Why? Because none of their reports appear to be based on scientific, repeatable, and verifiable studies. I read all labels and if contains the word ‘modified’, back it goes on the shelf. So this package, containing 80 calories total, is on my menu. Problem is, when I find things I like, they quit making them.
That was quite the day tour y’day through the orange groves. It got me thinking more about the local economy. Each area seems to have a small factory that keeps the wheels moving, but they look like those pictures out of the 1930s. Antiquated. If there is another factory, it seems to be cement or sand. They don’t compare with those pictures of gleaming new establishments from China. I stopped for some blackberries and noticed on the package they are imported fresh from Guatemala. Not only is American equipment out of date, it is seemingly cheaper to grow and process the food elsewhere. Probably not a good omen.
There is also some other influence on agriculture that is making everything so expensive. We’ve wondered before why orange juice is so costly in Florida, where there is a glut of it. Where it should cost 50 cents a quart, it is more like $7.00. But this is also true of other commodities in this country. Things that are expensive where they originate include beef, seafood, pineapple, and pecans. Same with fruit where the only bargains you get is by knowing the right roadside stands. And that is not a great alternative for me since I will only usually stop and shop when I see other people already there. Most of the time I just drive past.
I’ve decided to get back to the interior of the house. I measured out the part of the porch that’s complete and there is more than enough length to continue with the bedroom. Once that is complete, I’ll at least have the two rooms and I need an indoor work area something fierce. I want a real work table and either finished room would be plenty with room for a single bed as well. I feel confident with all aspects of the work now, so expect more construction news for a bit.
As for excitement around here, hold your horses. I’ve finally watched my entire DVD collection, all purchased at rock-bottom thrift prices, so I’ve got them by the hundreds. This was the result of my failed attempt to train myself to watch TV some ten years ago. Remember that? I lasted about a month, I think. I sincerely forced myself to stay home one night per week and watch whatever was on. Well, America, nothing is on. Even the science shows are watered down. I did ask around for those new antennas that are supposed to get free TV, but got no straight answers. Once again, I may find if I get one, I’m on my own. That’s the byline of my life. Everybody’s an expert until you call them on it.
Travel cost per hour: $49,808 USD
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At the Davenport bookstore (last day) I spent most of my time in the small science section. I’ve never been good at salvaging and repurposing computer parts. When I see such, I’m always attracted and this time I read that the laser inside a CD/DVD burner is powerful enough to do some real damage. I even found instructions how to remove it and fit it into a larger heat sink. Super dangerous, considering it was in a kid’s magazine. I want to research that one further, so again, check back.
What’s this? I’m reviewing my grocery bill and I don’t buy a lot of diet soda. So I didn’t know it was taxable. What nonsense is that? Food in this state is not supposed to be taxed. I know it probably doesn’t count as real food, but they didn’t tax the Kool-Aid last week. Ah, their days are numbered as Trump’s policies begin to unravel the evil empire of the civil servants. To hell with seniority, the government hired them and it should fire them the instant they slow down or don’t follow the elected leader or use the job to make political statements, and drug test the whole lot. Civil servants should not be allowed to vote because of conflict of interest. They’ll never vote for reform.
This photo is the opening panel for most of my videos. Some of you haven’t seen it. The picture is the lighthouse out in Jupiter, Florida. Wallace and I were out for the day. That was quite the excursion. He couldn’t make the climb with his bad hip and I took an hour with my heart condition. But the structure, the only lighthouse I’ve ever been inside, was so impressive it became my video logo. Anyway, back to the music, it’s not so much that I’m playing melody clips on the bass, it seems to be more that your average guitar player does not like sharing the limelight. Oddly, they don’t mind if a keyboard player gets a little attention, or even the drummer. But they sure mind if it is the bass player.
One of the more common gripes is they’ll snap that I’m playing the riff somewhat differently on the bass. And I just finished telling them not to do the same thing on the guitar. (Actually, I rarely say that, I’m saying I’d like to hear them play it correctly first BEFORE they make any changes.) The bass is fundamentally different and there are guitar riffs that cannot be played the same.
A lot of guitarists think they can play bass on a guitar. They don’t even come close, but they THINK they can. This argument that the bass should provide backup for the guitar, not the other way around, indicates a weak-minded and unimaginative guitarist who’s solution is always the same. Bring in a rhythm player. Then a keyboardist. And before you know it, the original guy is in guitar heaven playing lead breaks and waiting for his next turn. And the band breaks up because nobody is making any money and the game ain’t worth the candle.
And the Florida bucket soon fills up and slops over with thousands of nobody guitar players who can’t strum but imagine themselves the next guitar god. To me, a band is not successful unless they’ve made a profit either playing or recording. Forty, fifty years old, they’re still dreaming. Could the same be said about me? Well, thanks for asking. But the answer is no. I’ve made money playing, lots of money. The comparison isn’t even fair if only because I am continually adapting and learning new material. There are three things I’ve never seen. The eye of an ant, the arm of a snake, and a Florida guitar player learn a new tune. I’ve probably said that before, but I mean it.
ADDENDUM
When driving y’day, I found whenever I turned the steering wheel to roughly the angle I would hold the motorcycle handlebars, I got a new stabbing pain. It’s roughly at the 2:30 position and is one of the oddest injuries I’ve ever experienced. It migrated across my chest to my right shoulder, in the reverse order of the worst to least pain I initially felt. I’ve been favoring that shoulder for months and I cannot keep doing that. All that therapy has accomplished is I can raise my arm higher before the cramp feeling begins. That is my bass-playing arm so pardon my concern should it become over-concern. It’s not something I’d chance.
I phoned Miami because I could not make Xmas dinner. Then treated myself to a diet Xmas dinner salad with walnuts, cheese, and apples. Granny Smith sour apples, I mean. My arm exercises take around twenty minutes twice a day. How about a siesta? Nobody likes feeling exhausted after so little effort. Trivia, you have to walk the length of a football field to burn up the calories from just one M&M. How long do you have to play bass? These researchers never study the really meaningful stuff. That’s today’s 1,670 words.
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