One year ago today: August 20, 2017, option B.
Five years ago today: August 20, 2013, three drill bits later . . .
Nine years ago today: August 20, 2009, some new kind of smart?
Random years ago today: August 20, 2010, $3,800 per gallon.
Back home again, with a list of modifications to be made on the camper. Here’s an excellent posed photo of the late afternoon sun over the Gulf at Bayport. The solar panels reflect the sky and palm tree, kind of a nice touch to keep us up with the times. I’m sorry to have cut this trip short, but a reliable fan inside the cabin is not an option. Not it the Florida summertime. It’s also good to be back home with my K-cup coffee maker and soundproofed bedrooms. I see earplugs will once again become standard issue in the camper. How was your weekend?
So for the 150th time, I will modify my act, this time to split the music up and admit I’ll never be good enough for anything but the least exciting places. Tarpon Springs reminded me I’m not the only musician who has trouble meeting up with others who can hit the ground running. And I must mention that I’m getting stronger better reviews on my movie editing. The two important items I’d impart on newcomers is to do most of your work with the camera. Learn to frame good shots. I started learning that way with stills, like the picture here. Take a nother look at it and notice it is almost contest-grade. Because it breaks two rules* and gets away with it. Sometimes I take six or eight photos to select the best, but with increasing frequency, I get a good shot first try.
The other item that sets my videos apart is I’ve become expert at placing titles, subtitles, and credits. I do compose my own background music, which is heavy on the bass and keyboards, with a light touch of guitar where appropriate. If you ever hear them, my most popular tunes are called “Alaine & Snookie”, “Maybe Time”, and this inspired title, “MovieFillerBasicRhythm2011”. Isn’t that last one catchy? I’ve declined to post them on-line to date, but I would have no qualms about doing so. I also have a collection of tunes I play as bass solos. Those I don’t know because of copyright issues. You’d recognize them, Andy Griffith, Buckaroo, and clips from Bonanza, Gary Wright, The Who, Beethoven, Mozart, and various Russian tunes in minor keys. No slow music, I dislike slow music except for at-home listening. Which I only do if I’m awake but not reading.
I should concentrate on the hotdog cart, but that is a sunk cost which I tend to treat differently than people untrained in this type of expenditure. Buying the burners will require Agt. R to go in and make the order, he has no qualms about being on everybody’s database, and does not associate that with his string of hard luck up to now. That’s correct, he sees no connection between handing out his ID and the fact that two unknown lawyers were in the courtroom when we went to have his case dismissed. So, I’ll forward him the cash, um, let me check the petty cash account before I commit to that. I’m back, yeah, that’s a go-ahead. There is $418 even left in there.
On a different take of the situation, my being away had an impact. I held an impromptu meeting over the delays with the burners, the cranky licensing process, finances, and the potential for sales. Agt. R is totally the manger of sales and production. Don’t get the impression the hotdog stand is some convenient after-thought. We have excellent experience setting up shop and selling antiques and Civil War memorabilia off the back of the old truck. This afternoon, there was no competition, nobody else showed up and we would have been the only food cart. (I scotched the idea of setting up anyway. The temptation was real. But I’m playing this one by the books. The question remains, what happened to the statistical other 16 carts that should be in this vicinity?)
Here’s a snap of the coffee place in Tarpon Springs. Don’t let the sign fool you, this is totally a Greek restaurant. Sure, a bit pricey, but worth it. Try the snacks and appetizers. The cuisine is Greek, right down to the cheese and spinach eggy things that I like to fold up and eat like a small sandwich, Because that’s what it is, see?
Mexican drug bust.
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The mystery dispenser. We both know we’ve seen these before, lined up by the dozen. The logical answer seems to be candy, but there’s a catch with that. Candy is expensive for it’s weight and a single twist of the lever at the bottom would allow maybe a quarter pound or more at a time to drop. Not the oval hole in the base, meaning this is probably to be mounted high enough for the handle to be at shoulder or working height. The size of the tube precludes anything that is spoilable, heavy, or fades in the sunlight. (Later, it is a hotel size breakfast cereal dispenser that retails for nearly $200.)
You cannot just phone them, you will get the runaround for nearly an hour before it dawns on you that you will never get past the reception desk. They try to “offer” you payment methods on-line, but each of those options involves a fee of between $10 and $29 per month for a single payment. What they really want is you to sign a document that gives them the right to tap your bank account, where I am loathe to even let such scum become aware of whether or not you even have one. And neither Agt. R or I have Internet service at home. The option is to demand they begin sending the letters again or go to court, or to open a separate bank account for the purpose.
[Author’s note: this entire concept of paying a fee to pay your bills on-line is indicative of how stupid the average American has become. In essence, the company collecting the debt is transferring the cost of their billing department on to the customer. They call it “new” and these millennials eat it up like pigs in fresh poo. It all started with the “service contract”, where Sony began to charge people for their own product warranty. And despite the constant reports of security breaches in the news, people will still give half-retard drop-out cashiers their home phone number on demand.]
The conclusion of the meeting was well past dark, but we’ve decided to check on one of those temp tarp shelters and I want to fence that gap with the nabe’s yard. There’s a mother-daughter team renting for the moment, but the cart would be a tempting target if any coke freaks get in there. So I asked Charl for a post-hole digger. And spent the next half-hour trying to explain and apologize for thinking she was the kind of lady that would own a post-hole digger. In my own defense, she has one, alrighty.
And Agt. R is coming right along with his new business-minded attitude. Over the past few meetings he has begun to notice precisely how much help we have gotten from the community where three generations of his family, including exalted war heroes, have received from anybody. Right, not even any good advice. Things move at the speed I can get things done, and I have a ton of priorities ahead of that hotdog cart. He now understands that one of the reasons he cannot help with the running around I have to do for it is because there is no rulebook or guidelines. You even have to figure everything out on your own.
Except Charl. Maybe you can count on Charl. After all, she did give me this sample packet of beer glass cleaner when I inquired about it. They don’t know each other, but maybe he could count on her a bit. I mean, how can you not like a lady with a post-hole digger who has a case of beer glass cleaner? I ask you that.
ADDENDUM
Music-wise, I texted Twood explaining he should not be dismayed or discouraged and he will not be reprimanded for dropping out of site for a few days or months. In band formation, it happens all the time. Then I went on-line to find a tab to “Teenage Wasteland” (Baba O’Riley) only to find tons of simplistic guitar charts. The guitar part is for putzes. Hearing the violin part was mostly single notes, that’s what I wanted. The few double stops are usually easy since violin and bass are tuned much the same and my piano ear picks up the stop not only fast, but where it sounds best on the fretboard. All musicians would benefit from a year of piano lessons, it is that one instrument best played by those who understand it well. Which I can’t explain what I mean, but trumpets and cellos are less technical but more emotional, sort of what I mean. I give up.
*The two rules are first, the top of the picture lops off the upper half of the palm tree. That’s normally a no-no. It’s in the uncropped original, but I felt it drew the eye away from the center of the photo. The second departure is the rule book says the palm tree should be on the imaginary “third” vertical position on the photo, with the sunlight down the center, forming a frame. Instead, I opted to let the picture look “unfinished” by waiting a few minutes until the sun was closer to the edge and I could cut off the palm tree at roughly the same level as it is reflected by the solar panel.
Between the reflection of the trunk and the split between the two panels, it breaks the perspective so that this picture doesn’t really have a single vanishing point. I had a rough time making sure my camera was in the actual shadow of the tree trunk to get that “dark at daylight” effect. I sincerely had fun framing this photo, hopefully you like it too. If so, leave a comment.
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