April 3, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 3, 2017, I no longer read Smithsonian.
Five years ago today: April 3, 2013, self-supporting, my eye.
Nine years ago today: April 3, 2009, Smarts? Or memorization?
Random years ago today: April 3, 2008, the lap dog / lab dog double-cross.

           Here’s the fiction section of the used paperback store up in Combee. Now that is a bookstore. There are separate sections for crime, horror, westerns, romance, and a tiny, tiny section of manuals and textbooks at the far back of the building next door. Prices are about double that of Thrifts, so I spent $30 in no time at all. It is less than a half mile from where the band rehearses, I just never had time to stop in before. I was up there checking on the red scooter. Maybe next week, the parts aren’t in yet.

           That was Alaine on the phone. We missed both birthdays, Xmas, and Easter so on the 15th of May, no wait, make that the 18th, I’m invited for a half-day to the famous military museum in Ft. Meyers. And some even more famous fish restaurant. What a treat, since it turns out she never knew I had a degree in military history. I specialized in firearms, weapons, etc. According to plan, I’ll be in Miami the previous week, so consider that a May mini-vacation. I’ll be in Punta Gorda on the return leg, dropping off some “non-essentials”, this time a carload of art supplies, so I’ll just time the get-together for that Friday. Yeah, I know what some are thinking. Everybody I know is so rich that money could be considered a non-essential. Ha, ha, very funny.
           It is her hobby, but not just like painting art or such. You saw what she did with those seashells. Don’t be taking hobbies lightly around here, I say, in a sense they represent the closest thing to magic that non-musical people can ever experience. In one sense, the house I live in resulted from my hobby. I needed a place to work on projects until the house itself became the project. Today, I’m back to Winter Haven all morning. Then the motorcycle shop to check on the red scooter. If this is taking it easy, I’d better not even consider finding time for hot dogs or gold sluicing. Don’t count the band, though. There is always time for the band.

           Did someone ask what could possibly take up so much time? Am I not retired? Yes, but I retired early in many ways, like money-wise, age-wise, but not things-to-do-wise. I still have a backlog of chores. This morning, besides the scooter repair, I have to buy stamps, make deposits, price the breakers and sub-panel, check door prices, and shift some things around. That leaves no time for my drywall I’ve been trying to get at for nearly a week.
As for the electrical components, expensive or not, I’ve made the decision to get the top quality that is available. That could begin as early as tomorrow, I intend to do all the work myself except that which requires a licensed electrician. The rule book is difficult to interpret, but you don’t need a journeyman to install the panel or drill the holes. In the end, except for a dozen rules on running the wires, rules which are self-contradictory if read as plain English, it is easy enough.
           After wiring robot controls, nothing is complicated about even the most intricate household wiring circuits. Those are usually confined to three-way switches and other rare animals. This is what the $21 breaker looks like. I may need two of them.

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

           Here’s your photo of the truck windshield. That’s the answer to those who said repair it with a kit. No such option. I okayed the cash and the new glass was replaced by last afternoon. $245. But you can’t do business without a truck, RofR and I learned that when we were 21. That I chose a station wagon instead of a sporty convertible for my fifth childhood is a concession to that early lesson. Ha, the windshield outclasses the rest of the truck, which desperately needs one of those budget paint jobs.

ADDENDUM
           This is the Terabyte Fund. It’s my savings for a terabyte video storage hard drive. Many of the greatest photos shown here, well maybe I should say unique rather than greatest, are still from my videos. I have videos of gigs, Naples, Miami, Denver, fairs, museums, you name it, except nudies because we are way to smart for that in this age of negative privacy, and the raw footage is normally what fills my hard drives. I probably have 400 hours of unreviewed footage at any given time. A lot of it is music, as in rehearsals and archives. So one of those 2 terabyte USB units would sure take the pressure off. That’s enough space to store the raw footage, the WIP, and the finished products in mp4 and wmv formats.

           Show here is $74 in pennies, nickels, and dimes. There’s more but I ran out of wrappers again. Where’s the quarters? They are stored separately in the laundry jar. That’s another item getting attention, a laundry. Am I alone, or did this photo remind anyone else of hot dogs at first? I was getting to that. The cart is out of the picture for the club because I’ve ruled it too labor-intensive. For someone with no other demands, it might be everything the advertisements offer, but I don’t have/don’t want any more spare time. It might make sense to hire an employee. Employees will cheat you, but just factor that in. You can’t build the robot hot dog employee unless you know how the human does it first.
           The human that phones in sick, shows up late, pockets what he can, steals your toilet paper, and whines about wanting $15 per hour. Other than a robot, there is only one other way to get around all that but I cannot spare a company officer to be running a dog cart. And the company is nothing but officers. Who remembers that guy who used to unload the supplies for the restaurants downtown? I know he kept saying he never gets in enough hours. I’m going to go talk to him.

Last Laugh
(A repeat classic.)

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