One year ago today: August 8, 2017, MFLK Boulevard
Five years ago today: August 8, 2013, Wal*Mart goes GMO.
Nine years ago today: August 8, 2009, bicycle trips, $1.00 / mile.
Random years ago today: August 8, 2015, Peace River estuary.
Even way over here, the hotdog cart became the center of conversation. The entire inner circle is aware of the disappearance of all the carts at once, “now that you [I] mention it”. And the idea [of operating this cart] is universally liked. The loudest feedback is to stop calling it the hotdog cart, rather to refer to it meanwhile as “the new business”. Since this blog is semi-inner circle, I’ll compromise and may time to time call it the HDC. Here is an out of sequence photo that shows the innards of the part being replaced. The standard distance between the burners appears to be 14” so I’m shopping for the top brand I can find with that dimension. Here is the official robot club version of the information photo.
Except I forgot in really hot weather, my hood plungers don’t work right. They’ll allow the hood to crash down, so I held it up. We emptied a can of gas into the nozzle, the A/C turned blasting cold again, and I was soon on the highway. In that few moments, I got my bare arms coated with oil and dust, probably from the number of construction sites in the area.
They are building condos by the thousands. The traditional rumor of Miami as a retirement community persists. It is the opposite, one of the worst places for seniors to live. The place approaches a nightmare for anyone without full mobility. Most seniors, including in the vast complex where JZ has his condo, are never to be seen. The pool and community center are untouched. They stay locked inside their units most of the time. If that is your idea of retirement, head for Florida. But the myth remains and those condos are again going up by the case lot. Are there enough people to buy them all?
And when you are done with that hammer, I need it. There’s another group that need to be sharpened up. It is these pharma manufacturers who make their pills the same size and color as everybody else’s. Can they get any stupider? Their ineptitude defies the imagination. Makes one wonder if there have been any studies done over the years of the medical harm done by these people who purport to be helping sick people.
I’m in listless mode, don’t wait for any thrilling passages. To my own disbelief, I didn’t get over to the coffee shop on Dixie. Usually, I have the whole place to myself. I’ve got a tale from the trailer court for you. I’ve written how every rich kid is cheap in their own way. JZ’s allowance is around $600 per week. Yet he will not go buy a DVD player, instead he wastes hours each day watching the black and white reruns on free TV. Like too many Americans, he even leaves the TV on while he sleeps.
Apollo 8. (1968)
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The high points of the afternoon are as follows. I found out to my dismay my co-pay on my heart meds just doubled. That’s crappy. Next, I was over to the cycle shop, the mechanic who does all the custom work on my motorcycles. He’s had seven bad months in a row and is closing shop. His house has a small garage where he can still work on one bike at a time and he gave me the number. There is something about south Florida this trip that tells me another recession is underway.
Then I get a call from the folks from the old bakery. See how long I’ve been away, the baby is now four years old, walking and talking. We are back in contact via e-mail and they’ve gone on the electronic mailing list, same as Trent. There was a ritual of old-fashionedness about the newsletter being mailed, but now even that has the electronic version. This social media thing is out of control. Agt. R was unable to attend the club meeting, so it was Trent and I and I’ve decided not to say anything about the 17 unit rooming house because nothing is decided yet.
The meeting, which is largely ceremonial these days, took place at the old club on Wiley. Trent was working at Sunny Isles so it was the most convenient spot to sit down. We weren’t there an hour when Debs walks in the door. This is the gal I had stopped in to see y’day up in Lake Placid. She sold all her property or something like that a couple years ago and now her older brother intends to do the same. But these days, nobody has that kind of money and the banks are tight-fisted on anything but high interest, short term, and fully backed consumer loans. Mortgage rates are back up around 8%, and this is good news for Agt. R, since the people that tried to dual-process him have a note stuck at 4.265%.
I’ll be running a set of spreadsheets on the rooming house, the one you don’t know anything about yet. The one with 17 bedrooms and 13 bathrooms, never more than two efficiencies sharing any given b bathroom. The building is old, but has only had two owners. Those who know me are aware I know all the operating parameters of such a business, including the ratios of every expense and every margin. RofR and I were landlords when we were in our early twenties. The added advantage here is I additionally know the precise financial climate around that neighborhood. It’s three blocks from Jimbos.
ADDENDUM
I declined to go out later, instead we sat around discussing politics, on which we agree but for totally unconnected reasons. I had stopped and got a bucket of corn on the cob, which I can eat all day long, but I understand others have limits. The poor souls. I’ve decided to head back in the morning rather than search for the burner parts. There was a plateful of leftover ribs so I didn’t even go out for evening coffee. A new neighbor bought the condo next door and completely re-did the place. That may have included some soundproofing because there is no longer that intermittent banging around it took years to get used to. I zonked out as I always do when traveling.
No, I’m not turning in to a dud. It’s that everything got done on schedule and I felt like staying put. Trent and I voted on me learning and playing that Clapton song, “Promises End”. Ha, he never thought I’d touch a Clapton tune I suppose, but I choose them for their suitability to bass adaptation. Give the song a listen and you’ll know why I learned to say, “Guitar is easy.”
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