One year ago today: December 5, 2016, case closed.
Five years ago today: December 5, 2012, ugly never works.
Nine years ago today: December 5, 2008, my tweety friends.
Random years ago today: December 5, 2013, the phony mumble-talk.
Breakfast. This is my reward for stopping at Dunkin last afternoon and having only coffee. Watch out for their new 10-pack of munchkins. I’m just sayin’. This is a vivitar of my porridge, how do you like that? It’s really the strawberries that are the treat, but allow me to elaborate. This is my special recipe porridge. The oats are steaming hot, but the strawberries are fresh frozen after slicing. The brown sugar shown has an added nutmeg. The secret ingredient, however, is the half and half. It contains that hint of vanilla done just right. If Auntie Liz visits, the strawberries are coated in maple syrup before freezing. Sure, President Trump can ride you around in a fancy jet—but can he make porridge like this? Be honest.
I had business in Winter Haven all morning and some of it involved investigating the foreclosure procedure. Once again, the answers depend on who you talk to. That is a completely contrived situation put in place by those who profit by it. I don’t blame anyone who gets frustrated by it. I was seeking a simple answer. If a Motion is disallowed, does that set the timer from that point onward, or does it backdate to the original filing date? I got the royal runaround on that.
It seems logical that the deadlines should be extended by the time taken for the Motion, but it’s that logic that caused me to look into it. In the end I got nothing but website after website doing nothing by trying to goad me into surrendering my identity. They claim to offer a free on-line consultation, but that’s a lie. I understand they don’t want to implicate themselves in anything, but my question was not about the timer, it was where or who could I contact to find out the process. Nope, the bastards want positive ID—but only after they’ve wasted your time asking questions they have no intention of answering on the spot.
That’s typical millennial think. Get the other guy to invest time and effort so he’s less likely to walk away when you hit him with the sales pitch. And don’t forget, people have suffered by merely clicking on the wrong sites. Like the girl whose father’s computer was barraged by birth control ads after she made a few inquiries. Or the families whose health insurance was cancelled after their kids did on-line homework research on cancer. Everything’s funny until it happens to you.
Phantoms.
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I’ve worked with the dash cam a bit and have some data. The three minute files of 640 x 480 resolution take up just under 300k memory each. An 8GB disk holds 26 files, or just under 780GB before it begins to loop. That’s just over an hour and twenty minutes record time. That makes it ideal for documentaries, but I bought the last dash cam on sale in the store. The camera can be set for motion detection so one of the first things I’d do is a proof video that there are no young, slim, sexy, blonde women left in Florida. Well, there’s the babe at the Winter Haven coffee shop, but I’m afraid to ask how old she is. The governments got their nose in that, too.
I’ve got a book on the history of English railroads. I’ve got a mild interest in trains, but not railroads. England, however, is unique in the policies that influence these businesses. Guilty of often regulating themselves out of existence, only to be nationalized, which bloats the workforce, then sold at a loss when the taxpayers get sick of funding a clunker. With Amtrak faithfully following suit. Ah, here’s some trivia posted on Craigslist. Statistically, if New York City were all white, the murder rate would drop by 91 percent, the robbery rate by 81 percent, and the shootings rate by 97 percent. In an all¬-white Chicago, murder would decline 90 percent, rape by 81 percent, and robbery by 90 percent.
From the official city website, I discover that if an owner who occupies a house does his own construction work, no building permit is required. But he cannot even hire anybody to help him. He must occupy the house himself. If he does any electrical, plumbing or roofing, there is a required inspection. And a $40 fee. I think I schedule a few hours in the front yard for tomorrow morning. I’ve mastered working a shovel with one hand. It’s tedious, but I only have 14 small trenches to excavate in soft sand.
My newest audio book is also English. “The Body on the Beach” takes place in a village near a yacht club. The protagonist is a retired government clerk, who so far has shown no interest in anything except how other people are supposed to behave. Yeah, that’s English. So far she has scolded for knocking the door too loud, owning lawn gnomes, gossiping on the wrong day, and nodding to strangers in town. And I’ll skip music unless the new gal calls, my arms and shoulder still reacting to my initial therapy session.
There’s another wave of “free medical” claims going on about Canada. Some annoying bastard is on about how his wife gave birth in Canada and it didn’t cost him a cent. The people who study such things (The Fraser Institute) estimates that average Canadian family takes a 42% tax hit every year. That’s an average, I can testify that for single men, it can reach nearly 46%. On top of that, everything you buy with your remaining money slaps you with a 14% combined provincial and federal sales tax. So sure, after that, the medical is free.
ADDENDUM
I’m still shopping for a camera. Not just any camera will do, it has to have the qualities needed for this blog. It’s been ten years since I switched to digital and I’ve not found a good camera in that time. I hear the comments from the back, but I said qualities for this blog, not some quotation on aperture length or whatever. Some of the features necessary include instant on, 640x480 setting, long battery life, standard file formats (no Sony, no bmp, absolutely no png), and a price tag low enough that it can be lugged through the climate without worry. And smallish. It has to be smallish. You like that word, do you?
Today I eliminate the Canon Elph series for the simple reason of a non-standard battery. A blog camera must use AAA cells. The Elph has some kind of cell phone battery that is not sold by the camera stores. (I thought Wal*Mart had a policy against that.) This means one battery with a special charger, and that puts the camera out of commission for the entire charge cycle. I used to think Canon was a little smarter than that.
While shopping, I ran into a young lady at Wal*mart who was very tuned to the loss of privacy issues at stake in this country. I was impressed because most people I meet in her generation have a manner of blind complacency and acceptance about it. The world has never seen surveillance of a population on this scale. Remember, I’m the guy that labeled Google and Facebook as pure evil the first time I looked into them. And predicted by the time the rest of the world figured out I was right, it would be too late.
She was on duty so I could not chat, though I did ask where she became aware of such details. She indicated that it was from piecing together bits of information here and there. This actually seems to be the right approach for those with a balanced view of what’s going on. Other sources smack of conspiracy theory. She was aware that the government does not like dumb phones. My phones are dumb, and that brings me to another tale from the trailer court.
I have a cabinet of spare dumb phones and regularly swap out my usage. Today I went to get one activated and ran into a millennial clerk too stupid to grasp that I did not want her to enter my personal private information into her computer. What did I just say about blind complacency? She gets this look on her face like, “You don’t really live at the South Pole”, like there’s no foolin’ her. But I did notice even third-rate carriers like Virgin Mobile are now cross-referencing databases to see if the address you give is at least not fictitious. That’s another item I warned you about concerning the post office. Hey, I happen to think it is not the cell phone company’s business where I live. The reason I think so is because it isn’t.
Anyway, I got such stubborn resistance from that clerk that I finally told her I would come back another day when she wasn’t here. It was disgusting how persistent she was over getting my “real information” into her computer. That’s level fifty brainwashing for you. She has no privacy left, so why should anyone else? Guess I must be some old coot without a clue how the world has changed. I know what you are thinking. I should introduce her to my ex-cardiologist.
Last Laugh
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