August 26, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: August 26, 2017, murky jazz tunes.
Five years ago today: August 26, 2013, ha, tobacco-breath.
Nine years ago today: August 26, 2009, bitchin’ & moanin’.
Random years ago today: August 26, 2008, not from saving nickels . . .

           In one of life’s disappointments, this is the day I have no camera. While shoe-horning the new burners and fittings into place, I half accidentally discovered that a combination of two gas fittings would make the new system work. The hose was $12, the fittings were $15, but at 2:15PM we had our first hotdogs from the new cart. I’ll take pictures later, you won’t be able to tell. I bought gourmet hotdogs and beer in green bottles to celebrate. Everything works and I’m not incentivized to take everything to the next level. We are awaiting the health inspection and then it is H-hour.

           Over two hours, we tested all the major features and found things to be in good order. So as to properly test the flavor, it was three grades of hotdog on buns with no condiments. Man, what great flavor, I’ll eventually find the best brands. Even the low-fat Kayem’s passed the grade. Everything tasted like a thousand-dollar hotdog, which in a sense they were (see below). Due to complications with the gas fittings, the grill flanges, and certain parts that were off square, I’d predicted it would take a few more days. But ta-dah! Things fell into place this morning and by siesta time, I was munching on a Nathan’s.

           None of these products are allowable on my diet, but if there was ever a good reason to cheat, would this not be it? We have a budget of another $169 in food supplies to learn the ropes and another $450 to commence operations. The stops are off now that I can see things forging ahead. And, we scored another location if we want it. Right in front of the old club, the only restaurant in the area, a pizza joint, has now started closing at 8:00PM. The crowd doesn’t arrive until 9:30PM. So that’s a minimum $180 in sales—if you want to stay open until midnight. Like I said, if we want it. Don’t worry, somebody will.
           We also ran tests including timing the water heating period, grill time, and calibrated thermometers. They’re all badly made these days, but you have to use them. The top of the line onion dicing machine is $38 and I’ll get started on a Sam’s Club membership. The next big event will be the first dollar in sales. I have the picture frame waiting. It was sweltering, but we worked on. The good weather is still three months away. I can see us having one efficient operation by then.

           Stepping back to look at the operation, first off this business is not for everybody. The logistics of doing it right, which I would broadly define as minimizing the things that can go wrong because they will, is fairly complicated. There’s a fine and narrow balance that has to be maintained, but I’ve already calculated them and woe to any competitor that doesn’t. We sampled one each of three brands today, Kayem All Beef, JVL New Orleans (spicy), and JVL Cheddar. Pretty excellent, but the average direct material cost of dog and bun came to 68.4¢. That’s hefty when compared to what the sales people suggest. As for taste, not bad, considering I had that first hotdog and it cost me $2,548.52. Hard money.
           We still have that health inspection to pass, but if we can’t, nobody can. The only thing that bothers me on the cart is the complicated propane gas system. It has three valves, four if you include the backup tank. They must be operated in the correct order. I trust this will become routine. I’ll make a checklist anyway. The new burners are slightly smaller but unless they are required to be boxed in, we are ready on that count.

           There are no shortcuts to the startup. You must learn everything yourself and do all the legwork. The cart could be run by trial and error but I hope to do far better. One thing that struck Agt. R and would probably strike the casual observer is how every major decision was made on the basis of “book work”, not by brute force. Not that many people have seen this in action, but Agt. R has recent experience on how well that worked saving his house. I basically entered his mortgage figures into a spreadsheet, wrote some letters, and the next thing you know, he’s on his way to debt-free. And it is happening with the cart.
           Even the decision to buy that second set of burners was a return on investment calculation, not an isolated look at the price tag. Looking at the what-if says if we stay open 6 hours per event, the optimum sales looks to be 200 hotdogs. So I based my projections on that as a minimum before seeking a better location. Now today, timing the boiling water, the dogs and the serve time, the rate is 3.3 dogs per minute and that seems quite reasonable.

           What happens now? I would like a trial run but do not know how to do this without running afoul of the law. You can’t even feed the homeless in this vicinity without a license. So again, I look toward Charl as an ally. The cart is not registered yet, but until today that could have been a potential waste of money. There is some combination of what we do that simply has to pay off. If the show next Thursday is a success, that day is mine for the immediate future. Keep your fingers crossed. Except for the odd poorly formatted quip on Craigslist, no other bands around here do any effective advertising. And most of them are hawking CDs or t-shirts. My ads are complete with pictures, colored text, and plenty of html tags.

           Again, there is some combination, some blend of the circumstances around here that’s got to get things rolling for the few who are willing to stick their necks out. I think all of us sensed the potential was here shortly after I arrived but it took a year to figure out the two salient factors. They are, that except for the odd lucky bastard, nobody has any money, and the fear of taking risks is the dominating social sentiment. They talk, but they never do.

           How about this idea. I’m always looking for innovative ways to make home movie titles. Today I’m replacing the keyboard when it hit me. Why have I been throwing out tones of these letters? I likely presumed they would not fit the same blanks, but the prior three keyboard I’ve thrown out were identical. I’ll not hold on to them since once more, this was independent and I have no idea of anybody has done this before.

Picture of the day.
Carbery Island, Ireland.
(For sale, $640,000 USD)
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Here’s a photo of an outdated hotdog price diagram of sorts. It has no meaning today, but I needed some kind of photo for balance. I’ve found the buns seem to center around 30 cents each if you want any quality. And I’m now aware there are some 30 different brands of hotdogs.
           Happy with the progress this morning, I took the remainder of the day off. I’m still power-reading that 1950 book on American history as viewed from that era. It’s deeper than you’ll need to pass the test and is also an eye-opener on motives. The 1800 to 1950 stretch was drastic in the way western society reorganized. For example, the reason they drilled for oil was not the demand from motor cars, but because the whale oil people had formed a monopoly and were price-fixing. The book throws around unfamiliar terms, did I mention gutta percha? Terms like that are thrown indicating people of the era knew exactly what it was. I’ve inferred it must be a rubber-like sap from a tree in Malaya.

           I’ve decided to spend the evening reading on the TransAtlantic cable. Most history books laud Cyrus Fields as some hero, but this book properly places him as one of a larger group. He was wealthy and retired at 36 with no word of how he managed that. He did none of the scientific end and barely understood the principle of telegraphy. It would seem he got into it to enhance his reputation and nearly got his head chewed off. It was a vast undertaking and I now view him as some combination of chief organizer and cheerleader.

           The book tells of dozens of solutions that most of us are unaware were once a problem. Example, regular telegraphy uses relays along the path that reinforce the signal as it weakens with wire length. This is not possible underwater. But if you want the formulas, they are not in this book. The solution has something to do with dielectrics. I’ve long since forgotten the version I learned in grade school, except that the cable broke a few times until they got it right.

ADDENDUM
           Doctor’s orders, I’m to take a timed release dose of vitamin B12 each day. Something to do with how one’s system digests and I have had high triglyceride counts for thirty years. So I’m reading the labels and it seems there is nothing unusual about taking 41,667% of the RDA. It compared with neighboring labels, but doesn’t something seem a little overboard?
           Then somehow I stuck on this DVD called “P.S. I Love You”. What an aggravating movie. They call it romantic adult comedy but my 15 years in the cubicle taught me there is nothing comical about the way older shacked up women think about marriage. I try to watch it and see the humor but these movies focus much too intensely on child-like women who don’t appear to ever have faced reality. Even the opening scene is about a fight because she said he told her mother that she wasn’t ready to have a baby. He said it because she had not yet put in her agreed share of the down payment for the house they planned to buy first because she had quit five jobs in the past year.

           I was lucky to have dated a half-dozen women who would never have picked a fight over word choices. For that matter, they were as intolerant of women who pull that stunt as I am. It bugs me that enough women are into that to support an entire field of Hollywood productions. Adult romantic comedy indeed. You know how every such movie ends. She doesn’t change at all but he realizes how much he loves her and they get married. At least, that is her version of things. I know, because I worked in an office full of them.
           But I kept watching the movie because of the sub-plot. The one guy learns how to tell women what they want to hear. Other guys specialize in doing the same and the women cannot tell the difference. Duly noted. You have to believe all women at a funeral ask you three questions. Are you single? Are you gay? Are you working? I have never in my life had women ask me such questions, so I throw this one out there guys. Does that ever happen to you?

           Okay, so I told how the staff at the coffee shop doesn’t ring up my bill when the manager isn’t there? Well, now the manager is doing the same. Since except for music, I am unconcerned about popularity, it must be reputation. Half the town knows about that mortgage salvage operation. That doesn’t explain it all, because while they know the other guy, they don’t know me. And they are not persons I’ve ever seen in my audience.

           [Author's note: in a technical way, my very first bass solo was today in 2007. But I did not sing and I was playing along to backing tracks where I had electronically removed the bass frequencies. Solo meant I put the show on alone on the stage.]

Last Laugh

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