July 13, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: July 13, 2017, the other Haggard.
Five years ago today: July 13, 2013, a month's supply . . .
Nine years ago today: July 13, 2009, free, my eye.
Random years ago today: July 13, 2014, English humor.

           Am I furious at these damn engineers, or what. If it isn’t compatible with other 1/2” fittings, then dammmit, quit selling it as a 1/2” fitting. I carefully laid out then entire under-house plumbing system and dry-fitted all the pieces. So darn rights I was covered head to toe in muck, mud, dust, and sand. So what, I’m thinking. Once I glue this up, it’s hot shower time. Except, the last piece to connect, the flexible line feed, doesn’t fit onto CPVC piping. Shown here, if you look to the left end, the threads will not engage. It works fine with PVC, but not CPVC. Can those engineers possibly get any stupider?

           Oh, I understand they do what they are told. But if they know darn well it will not work with existing materials, they should call it something other than 1/2”. Call in 33/64ths or something, but calling it 1/2” is a bloody lie that cost me several trips downtown until somebody who knew the score told me the pieces did not match. I’m hold the piece after I disconnected it. You didn’t see me waste a half hour reaching under the floorboards at the farthest of my fingertips thinking I could not apply enough pressure to get the nut started. They should be required to put warning stickers—CVPC does not work with your existing plumbing.

           [Author's note: to clarify what I mean above, I'm well aware that the measurement quoted on the pipe is the inside diameter. That is not what I'm talking about. If a pipe is a joint or a union then quote that measurement. What I'm talking about here is a coupler. That's my beef. When you call it a 1/2 inch coupler, that has dick to do with the inside diameter. It means the piece will couple to another fitting with the same spec. CPVC does not. And that is who I am calling stupid.]

           One hour. That’s the longest bath I’ve taken in forty years. That could be because I usually shower, but you know what I mean. Me and a good book, at least I think it is a good book. It’s about a lady bounty hunter or something. “Lean Mean Thirteen”, it’s kind of a mix of all the detective clichés you’ve known rolled into a version for women. She’s chasing a grave-robber called “Diggery” and moonlights by planting bugs on people including her ex-husband. All successful women must have an ex-husband who is a cheap scumbag, it’s the law. Just like the divorce is never the woman’s fault. May be I’m reading it to see if this plot includes the customary stop at a stripper bar, where the hooker’s have hearts of gold.
           We had a windstorm last evening. Since I don’t get my news from the broadcast media, it could be the edge of some passing storm. But it un hooked my birdfeeder and threw it forty feet. Shown here, it got soaked, so I have to bring it indoors to thoroughly dry. Or the birdseed will mold. I hang the other feeder for the cardinals, but examination shows that unit is not effective. Even when placed in locations that seem ideal for other feeders, this one doesn’t attract a thing. Shown here is where it came to rest.

Picture of the day.
Kyoto at night (jimmyr)
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           This is your mystery object of the day. It’s plastic and looks like a jumbo pencil sharpener. Except it is entirely plastic and they don’t make pencils that big. Keep reading for the answer. (See tomorrow’s post.) I was around town picking up supplies most of the afternoon, nothing exciting to report. There are no pretty women in Florida for the asking. Even the marginally good looking ones get out of Dodge the moment they can. There is no opportunity here, it’s the same reason I left the farm over forty years ago. The farm, where you have to keep relearning the value of hard work long after the exam is over.
           There you go, now that I’ve got hot water, I’m back in lazy mode. Take the afternoon off. If there was anything to do, I’d go do it. Maybe later I’ll go look for that lens that’s broken on my car. That’s considered a big day in central Florida. I threw on what I thought were old movies, but some of them are surprising well-done. And if you are the Clint Eastwood generation like myself, it’s interesting to see his plots come from a common ancestry. This time I’m watching “The Gun and the Pulpit”. It’s the forerunner of all those movies about the stranger saving the town from the evil big rancher.

           This is day 225 of my diet, I’ve stopped losing weight. When I was a kid I swore I would never eat puffed rice again. But if you lace it with nutmeg and add just enough brown sugar to take off the dry taste, it is tolerable. So it has worked its way back into my routine. I don’t know about those surveys that say breakfast helps you lose weight. I’ll buy the story that people who eat breakfast are better tuned to the world and work better, that is what they should be looking into.
           And listen to the tards go on about Trump. Yep, he’s telling these NATO types they gotta start paying their dues. The American taxpayer has known for years it is the US of A picking up most of the tab. Trump said 90%, they say 22%, but either way, the burden is disproportionate. The US should not be paying a penny of anybody else’s military. At the same time, the US military should in return stop playing a politics in these foreign countries.

           It’s not like the American public isn’t aware of the extent that our military so often supports the wrong leaders and influences arms deals. But to speak out against it is unwise because they’ll play the “you don’t support wounded veterans” card. We know about the lobbying and the gold toilet seats. But all Trump is doing is telling these bit players they have to start carrying their own weight. Darn rights such talk is sacrilege to a liberal. They want cute-talk sweet-talk baby-talk all the while they are gouging others of their hard-earned pay.
           No, our military isn’t perfect. But they should be trying harder to be. I find it so disgusting to see some “general” with fifty colored ribbons who has never spent a month in a foxhole lying through his teeth. I disagree with American advertising that the military is a ‘career’. No many people know that we are the reason France did not have enough airplanes or pilots to fight at Dien Bien Phu. Or why England develops and builds here own nuclear warships no matter what America does. Our military simply cannot be trusted and the world knows it. We have a whole two generations of colonels who will never make general unless they can start another war. Of should I say a ‘police action’.

           Hello Snookie.
           What? He says you smell like food.

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