One year ago today: January 8, 2018, living like Harry.
Five years ago today: January 8, 2014, I don't care how . . .
Nine years ago today: January 8, 2010, WIP
Random years ago today: January 8, 2004, less of a good choice.
I’m still saddened by the untimely death of an acquaintance, but on the other hand this morning I received some astonishingly welcome news. And we can use some of that. Agt. R has mapped the yard for either eight or ten citrus trees. I think eight is plenty because they do require maintenance. For almost certain, there will be orange, key lime, lemon, grapefruit, avocado, and peach. Is avocado a citrus? I know, look it up, but I say any blog that can look up everything isn’t much of a blog. I don’t know about that loquat tree. The ones that didn’t make the short list? Mango, papaya, tangerine, and for now, pecan.
And I am sold on that fence. Finances pending, I may make a few more strategic panels around the yard. The panels are $50 apiece, plus the posts. I can see now that adding a gate will be a problem. The sandy soil makes it easy to wiggle a post that if as firmly embedded as it can be without concrete. I don’t mind the first fence because I’ve not decided it is permanent, but a gate would surely sag in no time. That one, I’ll research since I cannot be the first person with this problem.
Meanwhile, here's a thought. Einstein only said 'idiots' because he had never heard the term 'millennials'. I was not going to use this picture except as temporary filler, but it is generating so many hits. Glad you like it.
Grand Canyon idiot.
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Here’s some reading for the green thumbs. I glance through them but I don’t possess the background to know about plants. Especially lawn plants. I have in mind one of those more complicated yards that kind of half takes care of itself. I’m more concerned about the citrus tree operation. I pounded stakes as markers along the south edge of the property. Ever five feet according to Agt. R, although that seems a little to close together for me. Wait for pictures. Of the stakes I mean, not the trees, good heavens.
Vindictive? Me? It depends. For the bunch that places a lot of value in brownie points, spite is probably a bad thing. But like most bad things, one should take into consideration the provocation as well as the intention. How you interpret the following says more about you than me. Think back a couple weeks to the Karaoke jerk who kept playing the wrong versions of my requests, then lecturing me afterward about what he thought sounded better. That guy. First of all, understand that I am busy over here and I regularly mix up Tuesdays and Wednesdays because of a change on the days I get my injection. (For cholesterol, Ken.) I can always tell you the number of the day, but I thought it was Wednesday.
The connection? Later this afternoon I went to the nearest place with WiFi, the old club. Also, Karaoke changed from Wednesday to Tuesday, which did not prove a memory aid. I walk in, set up, and the entertainment starts. What does this have to do with vindictiveness? Patience, friends, if the tales from the trailer court ever turn simple, you might not be here. See, I read you guys a bit as well. Anyway, I still have a raspy sore throat and had not intended to sing. Not a smidgen of maliciousness. But I just discovered I can impact his show by simply showing up and not singing. You heard me.
He underestimated my popularity. Hmmm, that’s another thing I don’t much believe in. I recognize two brands of popularity. One is dependent on personality, the other on, well, just about anything else. You get one guess which brand I respect. Person after person asking me to perform, but I just said, make the request to the jockey. Um, this is nothing new for me. I may not glom on to popularity, but you are spot on that I gauge it regularly as a measure of stage caliber. Anti-correspondingly, I probably have underestimated my own popularity. Anti? Did I say anti? Yes, a double whammy. Uno, the show was dead without my comedy tunes. Dos, there were people evidently lingering for my turn. If that ever happened before, I didn't notice.
[Author’s note: the other connection here is that the boss lady was in. She saw the whole episode, and she is aware of my performance ethics. That I recognize the entertainer is there to sell drinks, and the longer the cliente stays, the more drinks. If it is 15% more drinks, then everybody is happy. She sold less drinks than if I sang, and now she knows why.]
I really was busy and only aware later that something was up. You see, a personality from 25 years ago may have just re-entered my situation. If so, you may increasingly hear about a lady named Roxie. No, not my girlfriend or anything, but a gal who naturally hit on the right way to approach me, almost by instinct. She caused me lworld of worry around 1992. If her name is still here in the future, it will be horribly wonderful news. Back to Karaoke. The sum total here is that I did not sing and it will have ramifications. Questions will be asked.
So, was I vindictive? Was it my duty to do anything? The damage, if any, was done before I noticed. Maybe I will normalize things, but eventually. I don’t recall doing anything wrong and I have no need for Karaoke at any specific point. I sing up at the Fubar, anybody who really likes my show can drop in there on a Friday. It’s only two miles away. To call this vindictiveness is being shallow, but I recognize from a distance, it can appear that way to some. And they probably got to this blog by mistake anyway.
ADDENDUM
Here’s a rare theme for this blog, an intentional repeat. This is the house that started it all. I forget the exact circumstances, but they are written here somewhere around early 2015. Remember the five-year plan to buy a house? I listed it below by year, but as some may recall, in the fourth year, I got this place for what I had intended to use as a down payment. Tell you what, if I think of it next time I drive past, I’ll get you a picture of the house I was really after, but it was three times the price.
Funny thing, memory. I paid for all the gas and food whenever we drove JZ’s truck. But not entertainment, by mutual agreement since he would have spend equivalent amounts back home, where he hung out in seedy bars. But as he recalls it, he paid his half of everything. Ha, that has never happened. I picked up most of the costs of all trips in the truck, plus often paid JZ a hundred bucks a day to help. You may notice there are six items on the list. The last, move to Arkansas, should not surprise anyone. There are (or were) nice places for sale that I could afford cash by then. If you followed the progress by this blog, you’ll be reminded how in 2016 I had a $20,000 down payment.
I did not get this house because the owner sold it to one of those bail-out offices that rents the house back to you. People who do that lose ownership of the property either way. My house today is a consequence of having that much down payment. The rest is history, I threw in a half-price offer because there was only one bedroom. To my surprise, it was accepted that afternoon. Show of hands, who remembers that? I bought my place outright with what was supposed to have been a down payment. I never really wanted to live in Arkansas anyway. Too hard to pronounce.
2013 – rent to own
2014 – down payment + rent to own
2015 – check auctions & tax repos, estates
2016 – bigger down payment + bank financing
2017 – bottom-feeding cash offers
2018 – move to Arkanas
Now before I let you go, I have more to say along the same lines about the government shutdown. I say leave it permanently shut down. Let the welfare recipients know its time for them to seriously start looking for work. Remind the civil servants they had best support whoever is elected and leave their attitudes at home. Let me ponder what would happen to me if the government stays down. Well, first, I’d be amused to watch the consequences around me. I’m surrounded by people who will do anything to get out of debt except quit borrowing money. Food? I have budgeted income for all the food I could want. Other than auto insurance, I have no regular payments of any significance.
That suggests that not only would a government shutdown bare impact me, it would have the opposite effect on almost everybody else. I imply that cutting off the supply of free money would expose a lot of people who may not even realize they are skating on such thin ice. I don’t know the combined payroll for the government workers, but that’s however many millions not being spent in the system every day. Good, if you can’t put the fear of God into those liberals, put the fear of starvation in them. It’s easy, let them go out and find legitimate work. I’ll bet not one in a hundred has any marketable skills.
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