One year ago today: May 7, 2017, County Road 471.
Five years ago today: May 7, 2013, 2.5 times more expensive than gold.
Nine years ago today: May 7, 2009, a few glorious months.
Random years ago today: May 7, 2010, nary a person in sight.
Who recalls these refurbished park benches from last season? They were meant for lawn ornaments only. Instead, they turned out to be comfortable and cool to sit on in hot weather. Never meant for constant use, you see here one of the seat rails is broken. The piece had a knot in it. My unit is intact although it gets constant use as well. But it is only half this wide. I may take a break from the renovations and fix that item. I repeat these are broken because they were meant only for decorarion.
So I’ll just tell you how it works. Due to dimensions, I could not really build a scale model, so I built a smaller full size length. We have four tubes, ten feet long. This is code-approved 3/4” CPVC plumbing pipe. The pipes are two each of hot and cold. Each pair has one plain pipe and one insulated pipe. They are capped on one end and have a stoppered 90° pipe joint at the other. The plan goes like this. Starting with the apparatus at room temperature, one pair is filled with tank-hot water, the other pair with water just as cold as it normally comes out of the tap. Don’t worry if you cannot visualize this, I’ll get up early tomorrow and get you a picture.
At regular intervals until the water in both pairs of pipes reaches ambient or equal temperature, I measure the water temperature. Planned is a Dollar Store thermometer at the end of each pipe, through the cork into the pipe joint. If this works even reasonably well, I’ll be able to recommend insulation at one-seventh the cost of virtually identical material from the big box stores. And it’s an experiment you could easily duplicate—a factor too many modern “scientists” don’t include with their descriptions. The thermometers will later be calibrated and placed in strategic places around my household.
[Author’s note: so much for planning around the Dollar Store. I should know whenever I find something there I like, they stock out. All of the little window thermometers sold out a day or two after this cold spell commenced. I’m searching for alternatives.]
Dodger Stadium on a good day.
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Here’s the birdhouse on the nine-foot stump. The oversize roof prevents squirrels from helping themselves to an omelet. The oval shaped entrance is said to appeal to a variety of songbirds. How do they test this stuff? I imagine that arrange a group of samples in a matching environment and see which ones the birds prefer.
The idea was that we would not be looking only for metals. I would still like to do that, mind you, if only because all the experts say there isn’t any. The motorized version presumed we had brought paydirt to the sifter, which I called the ‘discriminator’, or that the apparatus would be taken on a wagon to public beach areas. If I used a stream I thought why not rig up a paddlewheel, an idea I never worked on. If gold was found it would be in two forms. One would be microscopic. The other would be jewelry. Huh?
Think about it. My premise is that at no other period in history have so many working class idiots had so many valuable possessions. Sure, go swimming with your diamond earrings on, lady. How else you gonna meet a billionaire? You know, my premise was actually something else, but it applies to the situation. I’ll take a moment and tell you about the something else.
I feel the working class got all these possessions they are too dumb to protect because of credit. And credit was never so freely available as today. Why? Because for credit to work you need positive identification. In the old days, that meant on entities like kings and nations could quality. It’s difficult for such borrowers to disappear into the crowd. It took the advent of databases, identification which has an “expiry date”, and items like fingerprinting and birth certificates to really sell credit to the masses. Fly not, pay later, remember that one? Airlines were first because they were among the first to demand to know who you were before letting you on the airplane. Now, you must show ID for a bus ticket to the next town.
Your average lout has no idea that there is a master plan behind getting you hooked on credit at as early an age as possible. And why identity has become such an important quality that people will steal it just as fast as they would money. These are symptoms, my folks, mere symptoms of a greater wrong and even greater evil. But the prime operative of stupidity is majority rules, and there are a lot of average louts out there. My chief question is why do so many of them think they can play guitar?
The liberals take over, make it official to call anybody who objects to government policy a redneck, Nazi, or racist, and open the floodgates to third wor’d immigration. It began in the 1960s when the father of today’s “Prime Minister” bought himself an election based on the model of John Kennedy. These people used television in the identical way other politicians used radio in the 1930s. Namely, better use of propaganda to get elected than the opposition.
Once in, he put everybody on the government payroll. This has become a standing joke in Canada how nothing will ever change because any tax cut is also a cut in government benefits. His father expanded the civil service from 20,000 to 400,000 (later to 800,000) in a country with a population of only 20 million. This means among working adults, one third work for the government, one third are on welfare, and the remaining third are taxed up to 60% of their income to provide these government services. And by letting in immigrants by the thousands, who are given free houses and free money, this ensures the liberals are in solid until the country goes bankrupt.
Will it go bankrupt? Hard to say, because the economy is based on selling off natural resources to America, their biggest trading partner. And Canada is chock full of these raw materials that were there when the white man arrived, so basically there for the taking. So as long as there is a market, the place carries on. Careful, however. Should anything serious go wrong in the USA, the Canadian economy is one of the most manipulated that is imaginable in a country that purports to be free enterprise. The biggest problem with their immigration, other than changing the basic character of the country, is that just like in America, the liberals did it without asking the people who lived there.
Well, guess what? These immigrants are jumping the border into the USA. Can’t blame them, who likes 40 below and confiscatory taxes. No, the medical is not free, that is a complete fabrication. I’ll say it again, nothing in Canada is free. Never has been, never will be. The social system is based on the old British Isles model where poverty is regarded as the consequence of bad living. If you are born into poverty, go to church and pray for your sins.
It seems something like 4,000 a month are using Canada as a springboard into the US. The border is 3,000 miles long, most of it unfenced and unpatrolled. The pundits have been predicted a massive real estate bust, since you average house in Canada sells for something like $650,000 to well into the millions in a city. But again, with the government propping up everything, this will soar to unbelievable heights before any problem is detected at street level.
ADDENDUM
Here’s something I haven’t done in fifty years. A jigsaw puzzle. I felt I needed the relaxation from the tense times surrounding music. Somehow this fit the bill. I intend to build a frame and make kitchen art. I’d had an aversion to jigsaw puzzles because they reminded me the long hours of nothingness in my youth. Time when other kids developed hobbies and interests, and learned useful skills. There is no greater waste of youth that that imposed on them from above. There was so much nothing to do, especially in the winters, that I used to take the puzzles apart and do them again. But the only alternative was to do something constructive.
[Author’s note: all jigsaw puzzles are not alike. You probably want the type where each piece is uniquely cut.]
Later, I’m still asking around for that guitar player who strums, and what do I find out. The lady at the coffee shop’s husband is a musician who, “. . . likes that older music that’s country.” So, here we go again. It’s a slow process because so many guitarists won’t play in a band unless they think it is a good one, meaning most of them never get there. But judging on what’s typical, this guy could be in his late 30s+, by which time a few of these people, anyway, have clued in they are too old come from out of nowhere, something most of them had planned.
We’ll see, maybe I’m the Joe Dirt of the bass world. Surrounded by people who, in their opinions, are all doing better than me. But somehow, they are never the star of the show. I’ll know soon because with married men you can dichotomize. You got winners and failures and events rapidly reveal which is which. Most married men that play out welcome the legit opportunity to get out of the house a few times per month.
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