One year ago today: July 3, 2017, the green thingee.
Five years ago today: July 3, 2013, original NeverWet.
Nine years ago today: July 3, 2009, ripe coconuts.
Random years ago today: July 3, 2011, that makes eight . . .
All progress today was lateral. I mean, what are the odds of four batteries going bad at the same time. The big MS unit I donated to Agt. R last year went dead the same time as the scooter. Both “hotdog” batteries were purchased the same day last July. Same make and model, and they both go dead the day the warrantee expires? That does it; a battery cutoff switch becomes standard on our vehicles and wagons. These batteries lead a charmed life. If they are going dead after a year, there may be some other problems, but the cutoff switches are probably cheaper.
And our first monthly financial statements were ready y’day. On revenues of $0.00, we had a net loss of $316.50 for June, 2018. This was mostly vehicle expenses, using the 2018 Standard Amount of 54.5 ¢ per mile. Agt. R is not yet trained on keeping receipts. For those without specialized training, vehicle amounts can be confusing. You don’t keep track of the gas, insurance, and maintenance, you keep track of the miles. So, when he goes downtown to buy a gallon of bleach, that is two expenses. The bleach and the mileage. He’ll get it.
To others, July 4th is a holiday. Trivia, the most beer sold in America on one day is July 4th. To us, it tire rotation day, we have the jack stands set up to do the deed tomorrow commencing at 8:30AM sharp. That is also oil filter change day. Also, the fluids get topped up, but not changed. You will do this right if more than one person is involved, try it, you’ll see. Agt. R informs me that tires have a “hand”, which I never heard of. A preferred direction of rotation. That didn’t make sense to me because the instructions for rotating the tires say to cross the tires left to right.
Ski lodge tent.
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I looked at it every which way I could and finally cut the copper feed lines. I figured out how to disconnect the heater as well as turn off the breaker, I’m not keen on working on metal pipes when water and electricity are nearby. What I could not find was the drain valve on the tank. There is an overflow but that’s at the top of the assembly. So, I get this brilliant idea. Why not shoot compressed air into the tank through the cold water inlet, and force the drain under pressure? It works, but not so well. You see, most of the weight was not water, so I saved maybe 30 pounds. Secondly, air is not water and I got myself an indoor shower for free. This, gang, is why I prefer to leave plumbing to JZ and those who like it.
The job is mostly finished by the time I quit, which was well after dark. From where I ran th enew copper feed lines, I could see directly under the kitchen floor. What a mess of bad wiring, but I knew it was going to be that way. The water tank is moved, I will need only to splice connections where I cut the old lines. The tank is now on a small pedestal that can hold any leaks and there is room above for an ambient tank of at least twenty gallons. I have plenty of copper fittings and line from the old robot supplies. Items like copper straps, copper nails, and copper joints were fashioned into all kinds of novel apparatus, like spring switches common soldering points. This made moving the feed lines easy.
What I don’t have is taps. From planning (but never building) a solar water heater, I have long since memorized the tap system needed for safety and drainage. Mind you, those standards are more for climates where freezing is a concern. The tank is being moved from where you see it in the picture, to that small platform where the blue temporary work lamp is glowing. The exposed floor joist across the diagonal is the limit to where the building has been leveled.
Last, we took some more measurements on the hotdog cart, including wiring dimensions. It is generally agreed the big expenditures are over, but we are missing those important gas diffuser rings. There are no brand name markings on the burners to help. Tomorrow I’m going to Winter Haven to a barbeque specialty store. That is on the way to band rehearsal, I point out. The new guitarist has made it past the second meet-up, the one where most others quit. That’s where they realize getting into a real band has nothing to do with sitting back and waiting for the rest of the band to learn their perfect song list.
The fact it is a holiday is not a deterrent. He called to confirm, which is a positive. Because this could be the last time he spends money on a holiday and melts in to the crowd. He has already altered my song list, another telltale sign that we are working together, it’s called goal congruency. He wants to play “Venus”, the 1969 Shocking Blue song. And we both like “Do Wah Diddy”. This is ancient music, but these are classics that everybody knows. Twood also knows that this is a golden learning opportunity, that he is getting himself around $20,000 in free lessons. Not ordinary guitar music lessons, the kind that ruins guitar players, but valuable how to play in a band lessons.
ADDENDUM
I’ve read a few select sections of the nautical book. But this is 500 intense pages of small print. It contains complete instructions on how to sail your pleasure craft through locks on the Mississippi, to various key cases of maritime salvage law. Fascinating. But it is too much to consider deep-reading at this juncture. More than a few people scoffed at the amount of planning and preparation that went into the hotdog stand. As things fall into place, they are beginning to eat those words. I have received requests from new locations to set up based solely on their perception of the professionalism now becoming evident. And we have private functions lined up already. I would not hesitate for a moment to operate the cart without a license at such a gathering.
That last one is enough to make me smile. And it’s an ironic smile because just like I always ran bingo as a form of entertainment, thus it is with the hotdog cart. Read the want ads, you’ll find any number of bands wanting to get away from playing the bars to the trophy gigs of private parties. Why do so few of them make it? My guess is because they play the music they want and at a private party nobody wants a butt-in-ski. By comparison, my list is totally dictated by direct observation of what works right.
My little hotdog operation will get into pool parties long before any of the bands I’ve heard in Polk County. The gal who took me four-wheeling says Polk stand for “People of little knowledge”. Oddly, I shun private parties as gossip mills and don’t attend many except by express invitation. I recognize a foot in the door when I see one, and it doesn’t seem a big leap from the food business into the music business, should the opportunities arise. My set lists have always been intensively interactive. Hell, I’m just dreaming at this point. But don’t think I would not dance in the street if, by catering an entire event, food and music, I personally pulled in 20 times what the Hippie got at that gig where the old ladies fired him for playing the Mary Jane song.
Be patient for pictures of the cart progress. It turns out forming two companies was the answer. One for running the operation, the other for owning the plant and equipment. The robot club is already licensed to lease specialty tools. We never have because Florida is such a state full of numbskulls that there was no demand. However we have the tools. And all three wagons, the hotdog cart, the PamCamper, and the old cPod are built on the identical Harbor Freight wagon kits. Hmmm, isn’t a robot club one odd name for a place that leases specialty trailers? Well, think about it. The trailers, after all, came from an outfit called Harbor Freight.
In other news, my weight has stayed roughly identical for six weeks, despite my intense dieting. On top of that, if you factor in the extra heavy work I’ve been doing, and the longer and more active days, this is depressing. It means I am still 45 pounds overweight on day 215. If the calorie charts were accurate, from dieting alone, I should already have lost 85 pounds, that is, more that twice what I have. And with the cart, I’m easily burning an extra 500 calories daily. Yet, it is still a numbers game and I’m going the distance. The diet pills helped, but I’ve built up a resistance to them.
That is, earlier, I could sense when they were working. You just would not think about food at all. Now, they have almost no effect. Question for the day. Is it true states have Governors to prevent them from moving too fast?
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