October 19, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 19, 2017, Howard Hughes?
Five years ago today: October 19, 2013, put the buck-buck-buck . . .
Nine years ago today: October 19, 2009, more like $18/hr.
Random years ago today: October 19, 2004, musta bin quite the day!

           Today in any order. The sixties guitarist is history. He can’t keep time even with a metronome and his level of competence with the instrument puts his total practice time at probably less than 50 hours in his life. What’s he doing looking to join a band? Well, thanks to my brothers, I recognized the symptoms instantly. He wasted his youth playing big shot and now he’s dreadfully alone in the world with nobody to even hang out with. I didn’t say anything because he knew the instant I played a few notes he was in the wrong league. I believe his claim to have played for 50 years because his equipment was from the Sears catalog. He talked like he spends a lot of time watching TV.

           That’s a no-go, even the gasoline to get there was a waste. He should be advertising for something he stands a chance at, like maybe tiddley-winks. As for stage presence, he would not even wiggle the needle. He’s nine years older than me but looks like my father. Don’t delude yourself, stage work is highly based on a good show. If your energy level says just sit there and drool I’m sure not many people would consider that entertainment. I gave him a fair audition but he doesn’t stand the proverbial hope in hell.

           Here’s a photo I call the two-eyed cat. He lazes in the front yard all day watching the cardinals and bluejays. He’s so well-fed with dry cat food that he won’t take a chicken bone. There are two black and white cats, the other one is totally feral and flees anybody who comes within twenty feet. That concludes the pet portion of today’s broadcasting. The city code enforcement dork, didn’t I tell you he’d be getting himself in trouble? It’s too early to say, but he’s combing the city block by block and the little old ladies are getting riled.
           Like all bureaucrats, he thinks people pay constant attention to town meetings and bylaws. A few months ago they passed a resolution that that strip of grass between the curb and sidewalk is not longer the city’s responsibility to keep mowed. Now he’s hand out citations. I told you, I was not going to deal with him, but I do hope somebody puts him out of his misery.

Picture of the day.
High Fort Knoll.
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           I’ve reached a conclusion concerning the food cart. It’s a go for that antique show tomorrow. However, Agt. R has to work and cannot be there until 9:00AM. Thus, I will go at 7:00AM and set things up. But I don’t know where he keeps the ice, the water, the buns, or the soda. It was not in the storage fridge. If it is inside the house, how do I get at it? And once again, he left everything to the last minute, or more like the last second. I’m not saying that is a bad thing, only that it is not how I do things. I gave him a checklist this morning. The right tire was low on air, the battery needed charging, and he never did get around to mounting those brackets I gave him for the condiment table. It won’t fit in the station wagon. This is the same old situation you’ll see throughout life. The guy who doesn’t own the gear doesn’t much go out of his way to maintain it.
           They taught us that in accounting school. The only property that ever gets properly looked after is private property. We studied many examples, including property like national parks and condo developments. Despite many schemes and community spirit drives, in the end, only private ownership lasted.

           The conclusion is what I figured all along. In the event I do a show myself, I will have to set up and keep a complete duplicate of storage and supplies over here. And I hardly have the room. His house and yard are both three times the size of here. As for the soda, ice, and water, he must have then chilling inside the house. A lot of this has never been worked out because nobody guessed we’d be setting up before dawn. Working with what we’ve got, it is still better as a two-man operation. I set the cart up, he hauls and sells the food. It can be done alone, but that’s busting your chops. I do believe we will learn a lot tomorrow. We have to because it is impossible to arrange much in advance. It is not the simple business they would have you believe.
           This photo is testing for any difference between white and whole wheat buns. These are Wal*mart brand at 17¢ each. They are generic and not our best offering, but for the cheap hotdogs or chili dogs, they work fine. This is part of what I’m concerned about. You see, it turns out the only time my associate served food before was out of a commissary at a country club some 33 years ago. All the food was prepared, he only dished it out. I was wondering why he consistently underestimates the amount of work involved here. I doubt he has researched any of the food products as I have. Now I wish I had not got rid of my dandy little 21-speed mountain bike. Once I pull into the lot with the trailer, I could leave the car connected, but how do I get around?

           Thus, I would need a an upright freezer, two fridges, a storage cabinet, and my own condiment table. That’s one fridge just for pre-cooling the sodas overnight. It’s going to be at least a $400 extra expense, so, you guessed it. Good bye, this year, Smithsonian. I had planned to learn the cart myself, but over time. Now it is imperative. To balance that, there are some real benefits to operating on my own. I suppose there are people that would love to have the option.

           It also explains his penchant for offering such a variety of everything. Myself, you got a small dog, a big dog, and a choice of three brands of soda. Take your own chips from the rack. I would run only a very basic operation until I could do it in my sleep. Still seeking that better breakfast combo, I could not find the tomato bullion, so I tried this Russian paste. I never did find out what it is, I think a coffee substitute. It did not improve the flavor, but what a neat aroma. Kind of like, well, smoked cherries. I won’t be using it until I find out exactly what it is.
           I picked up the supplies for the kitchen circuits. That’s when I noticed the larger cables have the date of manufacture stamped every few feet. Another example of how the system has tightened up. Now you can’t claim the wire was there long before you bought the place. I will find a way to erase the writing at any place the cable is exposed. Let me get the cost of the electric so far this month. Parts come to $904.31. That’s after I added the shed and the wiring for the washer dryer. And I think I’ll be glad that shed is wired for 30 amp service if I do start storing food supplies in there. What I really want is a hedge that grows really fast to ten feet, then stops growing.

           I got nothing done on the house today, other than picking up the materials. It shouldn’t take five hours to do less than two hours of work, but that’s what went down this afternoon. I fell down as well. Dragging the garden barrow backwards, I misjudge the distance to some cement blocks. Scraped the back of my foot just above the ankle. I’ve got that uncomfy feeling this is going to become normal if I don’t win that $907 million tonight. I won’t because I forgot to buy a ticket. The odds are one in 302 million, well beyond most people’s comprehension of small. Tell you what, if it rolls over again, I’ll buy two tickets and double my chances.
           If I win, I’ll hire some total babe to chauffeur me around in my new leather lined sidecar. Then, I’d open a club that had a permanent ladies night until 9:00PM every evening. Boot all the guys out, then let them flood in after all the good ones have gone home or over to my place. What else? I would buy a staffed house in all the good states so I’d never have to pay for a hotel again. Staffed by whom? See ladies night. And when I was traveling between said houses, I’d have a pilot car ahead to, uh, report on road conditions, and this monster RV following behind over the horizon by GPS in case I, y’know, need anything. And I want a list of everybody in this life who got in my way. For reasons.

ADDENDUM
           Having Friday as my day off makes for a less than thrilling report. Blog rules say I must report the best or the worst, no matter how thin or one-dimensional. Are you ready? Remember how the mice ate the keys off my drum machine? I’m one of those people who, when I go looking for misplaced items, find all kinds of things I forgot I had. I found a box of bandages except the box was gone. Just a few shards of paper, the mice at the box. Next, I find this brand new GE cassette tape recorder, the only part I remember is I got it for $3. I threw in a top quality Sony tape and punched record. I have some new for the wired in generation, who get two hours out a battery if they’re lucky.

           This tape deck is marked 2012, so it has been sitting in a drawer six years with the cheapest Harbor Freight crummy batteries. Turned it on and I was in business. Yes folks, in a few years this country will be run by people who, fully armed with computer resources we could only dream of, cannot product a battery that lasts even half a day. The unit has a mic (line) input and a headphone jack, so it is compatible with my video chords. Here, I scanned it for you. What? Oh, that’s just icing sugar on the scanner glass. Never you mind.

           This was a lucky find. I’ve become disillusioned with the hand-held “digital” recorders. It bears repeating that they only record on a chip, they are not true digital devices. If you have, say 32 recordings, and want to hear the last one, each time you turn in on, guess how many times you have to press the button? What I have in mind is over the years I’ve become, what’s the word, qualified with Audacity. I never took course, but I can copy and edit everything I need. My car does not have a CD player and Florida radio stations blow worse than Hurricane Harvey. I regularly raid the thrifts for audio books, and up to now had to pass on the CDs, which have a better variety of topics.
           My plan is to use the old Acer computer set up in the family room to record from CD down to cassette. Bear in mind audio books and this recorder are mono. For music I have that schmancy Pioneer dubbing deck with the double Dolby® feature to ramp things up. And last for now, I found this Timex device that is an early address book or database. It seems well made but is listed for Win 95. I have such a computer still in operation. Say what you want, this older gear is essentially immune to Internet snooping. In that way, it is more secure than anything put out by today’s best. Return next time and I’ll get you a picture.

Last Laugh
(I’ll take two.)
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