One year ago today: September 21, 2017, if it’s compulsory, it’s tax.
Five years ago today: September 21, 2013, testing relays.
Nine years ago today: September 21, 2009, then smash the clock.
Random years ago today: September 21, 2010, remember peoplestring?
No bingo. They didn’t sell enough tickets, so I used the day to go shopping. This is always a treat in America, unless you don’t have any money. I wound up all the way in Keysville (get yer atlas) to find cheap filing cabinet parts. A little rusty, but the good kind. Then all the way to Winter Haven to get a decent cup of coffee. To my overseas readers, those cozy little countryside coffee shops you see in the movies don’t exist any more. The major franchises and the dreaded Starbucks has chased them all out of business. Another thing Starbucks put an end to was coffee as a social event. When I was in college and my twenties, going for coffee was standard, I’ve dated a lot of women met over coffee.
Besides, it used to be a good waitress could plunk down six cups of coffee in a wink and keep them topped up. Now Starbucks shoehorns the customers one-by-one through a single till, charging the money up front and pestering each customer for some kind of card or contest. By the time the sixth person gets their coffee to the table, the first guy is almost finished. I’ve always dislike Starbucks, and that started with their policy of no free refills. Before them, you always got at least one free refill.
The only picture I have for you is this scene of purple flowers in my front yard.
I stopped at Wal*mart to check for any type of cover for the hotdog wagon. Nothing in the boat section. And the Thrift. The blue-eyed redhead gal was there, but she doesn’t know I’m alive. She’s had the age appropriate thing so pounded into her that she is going to wind up either with some jerk or ten cats. Physically, she is perfect, although your average guy would think she’s skinny. But the average guy is also addicted to television, hasn’t read a textbook in thirty years, and owes $8,000 on his credit cards. I picked up a pile of DVDs while out there, which included the totally hilarious “DodgeBall”. It’s a bit of a spoof, like “Ping Pong” and full of gorgeous babes.
My favorite line from the movie, the guy at the championship who sees the Japanese team wearing those sumo loin cloth things. He says, “I don’t know how they can play sports wearing diapers. I know I can’t.”
The movie is good for a week’s supply of great putdowns, innuendos, and is, if you pay attention, actually quite accurate in the presentation of stereotyped people. That might be an odd recommendation, but I know a lot of types who think they don’t do that, but this kind of forces them to admit they do.
[Author's note: my rant from last day remains as follows. It generated so many hits, I suspect I am not the only one who hates MicroSoft, but am not an Apple cultist.]
Oops. Microsoft products decline in performance over time. Lately my save as function has been putting files into random directories. Like today’s post. Here I am, way over in the library and the entry is back home somewhere.
One hallmark of poor coders is they rarely check to see if a file name is already taken, gullibly thinking that placing it in its own directory will keep it local. Hence, over time, their “updates” tend to overwrite original files, and performance suffers overall. This is a built-in defect with all C+ language code variations.
So today is written, but unless I go out tonight, you’ll have to wait. Compliments of MicroSoft, who are about as popular over here as a turd-flavored lollipop.
Photoshopping.
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A friend of mine sent me a video of a political commercial making the rounds in Canada. The media there is solidly government controlled and the content shows it. This one was about a bunch of white kids who had been trained to shout in unison, “Diversity is our strength.”
The Canadian government is hugely left-wing. In America, they would be considered extreme Democrats. They are letting in hundreds of thousands of “refugees” who invariably wind up on the welfare rolls at taxpayers expense. There are native born Canadians who struggle paycheck to paycheck, but all the government’s sympathy goes to putting on a good show for the world.
Except the commercial with the children is pathetic. There is no opposing viewpoint, because the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation a.k.a Communist Broadcasting Corporation) does not allow it. In fact, as my friend points out, if any kid stated the right-wing point of view, somebody would be charged with child abuse.
Here, this is another front yard picture. That’s my wonderful little lawn seat facing the birdbath and my little green area. See the pumpkin tree at far left. I keep forgetting to pick up some pretty flowers for those pots. It is quite pleasant out there once the sun sets and before the skeeters come out.
I tired to listen to a LeAnn Rimes CD. From 1996, that was about the time this “new country” started this current era of dreary slow dragging music. What little upbeat music that comes from since then has totally outdated 1980s disco rap beats. The recording industry is designed to drain every bit of originality out of bands, the usual is three albums before the music no longer sounds refreshing. Many bands then resort to over-orchestrated studio productions. This CD has all these defects. Droll, melancholy music, none of it light, lively, or cheery. It wasn’t all fun tunes in my day, but I’m referring to the ratio. These days maybe one tune in ten is a toe-tapper, in my day it was over half.
And the themes. I always found slow country music to be depressing. I recall for you what I said when I was maybe 12 years old. I could understand why people would listen to music that made them happy, or amused, or reflective. But I could never understand listening to music that makes them sad and depressed. Like they don’t get enough of that from regular sources. You can’t tell me listening to gloomy music for twenty years doesn’t affect these people psychologically. This CD is titled “Blue”, so while that partially explains the sluggish beats, the dominant theme is hurtin, cryin’, and more hurtin’.
When I got to track 8 of 11, “I’ll Get Even With You”, I hit the eject button. Enough already. I further comment how the number of tracks per CD has fallen to 11.
ADDENDUM
Third Friday of each month is a music and craft fair, I toured the event last evening. But I did not get there until nearly dark, so I don’t know if it draws a day crowd. By nightfall, it was mostly adults. There were only four food vendors present, and all of them were at the far end of the streets. Thus, from the center crossroads where the biggest crowd congregates, it is a block walk to any food vendors. They had a fish fry truck with meals ranging from $6 to $12. There was a guy barbequeing chicken, $8 a box and it looked pretty good. Otherwise, there was a mobile sno-cone truck, prices $3, $4, and $5. I’ve never liked sno-cones and doubt I’d pay $5 for one.
The cheapest “food” was a big bag of popcorn for $3. Or make that kettlecorn, the one that is sweet instead of salty. My guess is they made a rule that the food sellers must keep a distance from the central area. However, I would like to know if that applies to our commissary, since the sidewalk in front of her shop would make it the handiest food location. Well except for the Mexican restaurant, but that’s really too expensive for most people who shop for their arts and crafts at a canvas booth.
I estimate there were 220 people present in the 1/2 hour I was looking. Hotdogs are logical, but although Agt. R has lived here for years, he is not a reliable source of information. For example, that air was one of the 11 locations he listed of the 14 that I wanted. Now he says that all vendors at that fair are by invitation only, and he has no idea who does the inviting. I suspect he did about as much research on the other spots. He does not seem to be anxious to get out there and get things happening, he just wants to sell hotdogs. And he doesn’t seem to have much experience at that either.
I did not want to get a business license in my own name yet. I have compelling reasons not to do that until after this upcoming November. While he is aware only that the license for hotdogs was to be in his name, he does not even seem prepared to pay for it himself. As always things will get done when I do them. He did not see the man fire up the cart, as I instructed him, and I did not ask to see a list of the 11 locations and I realize now I should have asked for the names of the people he’s talked to. Now I realize he did not talk to anybody. At best he recalled a list of places he drove past that had other food vendors.
Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to prepare a parking spot for the cart behind my place, away from the road. It’s been over three months, but keep in mind the cart was not in working condition and he did not lift a finger to look for or find or install the replacement parts. Possibly he thought, despite my clear description of intention, he still thought I was going to hand him a few thousand dollars and say go do as you please. Seriously. That repair ate alone up nearly two months, having to figure out the entire process myself, procure the parts, and now there is a good chance he may be losing enthusiasm. That would spell disaster for his plans to pay off his mortgage, the one that lasts until he is 87.
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