One year ago today: October 8, 2017, where's my floor?
Five years ago today: October 8, 2013, that wierdo again.
Nine years ago today: October 8, 2009, geisha girls, today.
Random years ago today: October 8, 2014, I try a 5-string.
It’s Columbus day, one of those public holidays that is more of an annoyance. Places close up on what is just not that much of an occasion. I had to buy a few more parts and I spent the day raising the floor and putting it down again. It wouldn’t be that much work except I have to move all the furniture. What, they think I’m Charles Atlas. But I got some cabling into the right position for the electrician to show up on Wednesday. He’ll be wiring in around six to eight circuits, which is basically all the major parts of the building. There are other legs to the circuits, but they can wait.
The only novel photo I’ve got is this telephoto of the backyard birdhouse. I don’t think it has any tenants yet. I was going to install a pinhole camera, but other things came up. It was either this photo or scenes of me crawling under the house again. Come to think of it, don’t rule that out. Maybe that’s a good idea. Me working, it would be novel. Just kidding, I do all my own work and still keep on top of most of it. Sure, when I’m swinging a hammer and stuff like that, my sink gets a little full of dishes, but that’s only because I’m a bachelor.
Taking stock of the dating pool, I’ve already met all the single women in this area. The ratios are terrible, in that the dating pool is so tiny. Maybe 18 women I’d consider. But I’m past the stage of the fling in the back seat, much as I regret that fact, mind you. What? Oh, don’t worry, your turn is coming. Otherwise, this town is the same as any other town, meeting all kinds of the women you don’t want. I’m looking more closely at playing in the Auburndale area, but with my tacky act, I have to find the right kind of spot. Read that to mean some place where any music is better than nothing. I’ve had it with rehearsing, if a guitar player wants in now, I’ll just hand him my list and say call me when you can play it.
No need to take that the wrong way. As long as he sings his own material, he can hand me his list as well. The fact is, since I started looking in this area, it took slightly more than one year to exhaust all the possibilities. Nobody out there can hack it, so it would appear to be a situation where I have to play my dues all over again. I would not be the first one who spent his whole life without connecting in music or love. Well, even that is not exactly true, I’ve had my moments. But damn, compared to my age, they were just moments. I’ve been spared a lot of the agonies, that much is certain, and there are no guarantees anything else would have worked better. Ah, it’s the pressure of my fiscal year end again. Another year has gone by and you can decide whether it’s been good or bad. Use this blog for reference.
The real Kangaroo Island.
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I did meet a sprightly gal this weekend, but she out-weighted me by a good 80 pounds. Which is close to twice the amount I’m still planning to drop. Let me check something. Yes, this is day 312 of my diet and I’m still 45 pounds over. So do the math. The magazine I bought was a special edition on a novel theme, the famous American trials. Jackson, Cosby, the Lindberg kidnapping. Maybe there is something new in there, I dunno, but I’ll undoubtedly form opinions. The American justice and political systems have become seriously flawed. The average citizen has little faith in a system that can bankrupt you proving your own innocence while they use tax dollars and spare no expense to get you if they want. Trials have become increasingly based on micro-evidence and paid experts. The biggest inequity is the defendant rarely has access to the same on his side.
This magazine covers a century of trials, so there should not be too much of the forensics and this could be the rare chance to hear an opinion that was never swayed by television reporting. I’ve heard of most of these trials, but didn’t follow the media slant as presented at the time. I’m against the plastering of names of people merely accused of a crime. I’m also against the laws that charge people for fleeing what is known to be an unfair police system. But, I’m just one guy.
The American press has always been the puppet of political smear campaigning. During my lifetime, I’ve seen that change to include social slurring and celebrity busting. Implications become as damaging as convictions and the practioneers of that trade know it. I’ll first read the articles that I’ve never heard of or forgotten. Like, who is Jeffrey MacDonald? Or Robert Chambers? Trials that make the front pages generally involve murder yet I can’t place many of these names. Let’s see if this goes anywhere.
I have no idea why I took this picture of the country courthouse. It’s located in Bartow, and that is where Agt. R wanted to sell hotdogs. I say wanted, because we now know that he did not find out what the licensing requirements were and there is very little chance he will ever sell anything to that crowd now. I will take a look to see if the wheels can be greased but the general atmosphere of these locations is that the people already there have no intention of contending with startups. There is a lot more information than I can record here and I was prepared to wait up to a year to find the right location. And I’m aware that others cannot wait that long. Stick around for the inevitable drama.
ADDENDUM
A quiet evening calls for a sci-fi DVD. I found a movie called “Jumper”, an interesting action story. It’s the usual plot of people with special skills and those out to kill them. In this instance, the skill is an ability to “jump” instantly to any location in the world. Including bank vaults. The people hunting them down pose as NSA goons, which carries a message. Get the video second-hand, but it’s worth a watch. They could have done far better in casting teenage women, the ones they got, sad to say, had already gone flabby in the wrong spots.
Great scenery, filmed on location, even if those happened to be the worst of tourist traps. The acting is not up to the skill levels of even twenty years ago, but they make up for it with plenty of special effects. I was impressed by many tiny technical details but be warned, the movie makes no discernable mistakes there. When they teleport to a Chinese restaurant, the Cantonese is real. At the coliseum, the police uniforms are regulation. That kind of thing, the movie-makers seem to be meticulous about it. Compared to how they used to use Navajo war shouts as backtracks on Tarzan movies.
[Author’s note: the movie can also be a downer for some people because it continually reminds them if they didn’t keep up with the world. I’ve always felt when movie does this, it is intentional. Most people would not know if it was real Cantonese, or that the Italian police were wearing regulation uniforms, or that the airport display signs were the correct format. It’s not a fixed idea so I can’t describe it better, but that the movie presentation is meant to appeal to a different audience, type of thing. The attention to detail like that never happens by accident.]
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