September 3, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 3, 2017, you can't improve i=i+1.
Five years ago today: September 3, 2013, I'd pay extra, sure.
Nine years ago today: September 3, 2009, the lollipop, well it sucked.
Random years ago today: September 3, 2008, the dog was useless.

           This is the worst DVD I’ve seen this year. “Pilgrim’s Progress”. Terrible, grade B acting. Loosely based on the old classic, it is about this suburban type who leaves his wife and kids to go find heaven in some swamp. Along the way, he takes all kinds of advice from every creep he meets. The original tale is about a dream this guy had about finding his way to heaven. He woke up and wrote it down, but otherwise it is no different than any other dream. I got through the first half-hour and hit the eject button. It’s produced by some outfit called ReelChristians. Go figure.

           I started a food riot. No, not hotdogs. That comes later. So this morning I go take out the trash, fill the birdfeeder, and put on some chicken to bake. Next I walk out to the car to get my mileage log for August and I hear this fuss and racket. Food riot. I can explain. Over the weekend I went to Tractor Supply to get more black oil sunflower seeds for the cardinals. But they were sold out, so as a temporary measure, I bought a bag of the seeds already shelled. I filled the feeder in the usual way, not thinking what effect this bonanza would have on the resident bird population. Well! I now have proof that if the food supply is plentiful enough, all kinds of birds will get along like chickens at feeding time. I counted 22 birds that did not fly away when I rounded the corner.
           Another DVD movie, you’d think that’s what I do all day. I had to close the August books and it took five hours. So I watched “North Star”. You’d think after all these years somebody could come up with a better movie about Alaska than the old evil mining boss, claim jumper, Indian land rights, saloon girl with a heart of gold, and the ancient burial ground smack dab in the middle of the richest motherlode in the Folly. But no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!

           I’ve never been to the Yukon, but try this. Mix 4 quarts of flour, 3/4 cup of powdered milk, 1/2 cup of baking powder, 2 tablespoons of salt and 3-1/2 cups of shortening. Then leave it in the fridge. Or if you are in Alaska, on the window sill. When you get hungry, mix in a quart of water and knead it into soft dough and roll half of it at a time into a half-inch sheet. Cut into 2” shapes, throw them in a pan and let them bake for 12, maybe 15 minutes. Yields 100 biscuits.

           Next, in semi-happy news, I fired off an e-mail on behalf of my client saying that unless he personally was the recipient of the grant money, that he was not bound by the contract signed in Clearwater. That got their attention and the matter was cleared up lickety-split. It’s not all roses, because once the escrow was caught up, there remains that nasty fact about mortgages that most of the payments are interest. Nonetheless, the bad guys had to eat the legal fees and apply the grant money to his account.
           When it was all said and done, he was up just the $1,185 equity he would have been had he made the payments on time. Still, that’s something. He did get the benefit even if he didn’t get the cash. You have no idea how much he hates that mortgage company. What? Nope, that is still no idea.

Picture of the day.
Home improvement.
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           Tomorrow, I register the cart to my company. I was going to put it in my name, but I want separation in case anything goes wrong. I bought the final piece of flashing to finish the replacement of the cart burners. At that point, I am ready to commence operations. I confirmed what looks like an alley beside the old club is private property of the commissary, so the actual sales take place on private property. There are still some misconceptions about the costs of doing business. It probably looks like all gravy from the operator’s side, selling a fifty-cent hotdog for $3 or $4, but I know to keep that cart maintained and in good condition for years, the monthly bill is going to average out at $230. That means he has to move around a hundred hotdogs every month to break even.

           He’s convinced that is a good location, me not so much. The capacity of the club is 130, but that would be based on square footage. There are only 32 chairs. It does get crammed on holiday weekends, but my estimate is he’ll be lucky to move 50 dogs max and most weekends there are only 50 people in the joint. Not all of them will buy a hotdog. Mind you, being next door to the commissary (why yes, thank you, that was a smart move) means I’ll want to push that chili. Remember, I paid for a full license, not just hotdogs.

           This grainy picture is the 12V sound system for the cart. You can see the cigarette lighter plugs. The CD player is a Walkman with mega bass and that’s the 20 Amp booster I picked up at the restore for five bucks. The speakers are Panasonics, so the overall sound is fantastic at any volume.

           I’m glad you’ve been patient with this whole hotdog situation. It’s dominated the ether since June 14 and much of the lost time has been one big frustration. It’s duly noted that Agt. R did not follow along the development process, meaning I’m the only one around here who understands the entire start-up process. This is the situation where the hired help gets to thinking they know more about the business than the boss. Hell, for that matter, he’s undoubtedly thought that since day one. What’s more is he doesn’t mind burdening others with part of the load if they’ll help. Myself, I won’t even go there. For example, when we sampled the chili, he thought nothing of helping himself to her foam serving bowls until I put a stop to it.
           By a similar token, he doesn’t always understand why I don’t care much about things that don’t make me any money. The commissary wants to call it “Sweet Maggie’s Chili” and I’m fine with that, while he sees it as a loss of identity for the business. Wait and see, I said, wait and see. There’ll be time enough to chase rabbits. In the past week, I’ve lit the burners 15 times, while he has only done it once and I was there to show him how. He wants to set up this Friday, but where are his supplies, where are the menus, where is his cash box, where is his float? I’m only responsible for the cart, not the operations.

           So yes, there are still things needing to be ironed out. If he wants to start at what might be a prime location, fine. But I would do some practice runs. He still has not got the freezer set up or tested the soda coolers. Stick around and we’ll likely see some action. So yes, there are still things needing to be ironed out. If he wants to start at what might be a prime location, fine. But I would do some practice runs. He still has not got the freezer set up or tested the soda coolers. Stick around and we’ll likely see some action.
           Here’s a picture of the “cigarette lighter” power system being installed on the cart to accommodate the sound system. These sockets, oddly, carry a warning they are not to be used with a cigarette lighter. This model is hardwired to the battery, I’m simply modifying the wiring to have it’s own fuse and power switch. This item costs around $7 at Wal*mart, but it is over in the automotive section, not in electronics, where they sell the gadgets that plug into them.

Last Laugh

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