November 23, 2018

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 23, 2017, reminds of Ann Landers.
Five years ago today: November 23, 2013, ice-fishing, no thanks.
Nine years ago today: November 23, 2009, the big BBQ.
Random years ago today: November 23, 1981, a fateful day, indeed.

           Welcome to the single most important day of my life. It will determine the way I live from this point onward. I suppose many people think that can only happen earlier in life, but little do they know. However, this is not that kind of blog so we leave things to your imagination and recap the recent trip. Known as The Great Trek West, in local parlance, we are past the 7,000 mile mark and not home yet, home in 509 I mean. That is another 11-1/2 hour drive, making 12-1/2 if you add the time zone loss. This photo is the hallway to my office out west, where it all started 31 years ago.

           For future reference, this journey lasted over two weeks, I'll get you more stats of the GPS. But I'm kind of busy right. On November 7, 2018, left Winter Haven, to Columbus, Nashville, St. Louis, Denver, Yakima, Everett. The return leg was Redding, Bakersfield, Flagstaff, Ft. Smith and now in Nashville. It went as planned except for the $1,000 repair in Cheyenne (includes motel costs, etc) that eventually turned out to be unnecessary.

           That's not the sad part. What really happened to beat me down was that for the first time in my life, I asked for help. If I could get back 1% of the help I've given to others, I'd be wealthy, no exaggeration. But the once I ever sincerely asked, I got kicked in the teeth. Hard. From the direction I least expected, by people I trusted.
           I gave them plenty of time to think over the situation first, but even if they have a change of heart now, I will always feel that I had to coax something out of them that should have been offered cheerfully and spontaneously. In an unrelated incident, I now have a credit card.

Picture of the day.
American cheap-ass condos.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Let me tell you what a cultureless rube I am. Today, the most gorgeous babe in Nashville treats me to dinner, and I don't know how to eat it. Mu Shu pork, shown here is like a Japanese burrito. You take the japanese tortilla thingee, and put some of the filling there and wrap it up. Carefully that is, these these wraps are thin or what. That's me pointing at wasabi, or is it at the ginger. So, do you want your meal to burn or sting?

           Add oolong tea and I had enough for lunch tomorrow. This was pretty nice fare and utterly uncomparable company. The last time I ate Japanese was in 1991 in California. I'm not a big restaurant eater, at least as entertainment or celebration. They are a convenient place to eat while you are on the go. Fancy, shmancy. I know people who know what fork to use, but then they pay for the meal with a credit card, nomsayn? Define culture.

           For the next few days, expect a lot of reptitious elements and variances as I wrap up this major trip. I've got a $300 discrepancy that appeared the morning I left some sixteen days ago. The replacement check hasn't arrived yet, I've got $54.17 to last the rest of the month. And a full tank of gas, plus lots of food, I mean. At least I know exactly where I stand on that. I don't bury bad news with borrowed money.
           Listen, short blog posts until I get home and catch up. I've got a lot to wrap my brain around. And the shell is thin or what.

Last Laugh

++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Return Home
++++++++++++++++++++++++++