One year ago today: January 9, 2018, I disappeared in 2011.
Five years ago today: January 9, 2014, my deep fried Oreo.
Nine years ago today: January 9, 2010, I do all the work.
Random years ago today: January 9, 1980, the only time I lost.
Here’s a picture of today’s bargain. Eight bucks, and it turned out to be spanking new. A respected brand name. The idea here is to rig this up inside the car as an interior heater, and you don’t want to try this at home. You cannot connect this to a cigarette lighter, the ones that show that are leading you on. Yes, I do have one, but it is not there for heat. You see, when you put in a heater like I intend to, it will fog up the windows. The small heater I have is my auxilliary defroster. On the low setting, they can be hooked to any line with a 15 amp fuse, though I will likely install a dedicated line.
Actually, that’s misleading. You don’t connect anything direct. You’ll be needed a power inverter, and preferably one that can put out the full 1500 watts. The maximum unit I have is 400 watts. If things go well, what I’ll do is install a second battery and have the car top that up, using a diodes to prevent any problems with the main battery. It worked well on the sidecar and you always have a second battery topped up if you need to self-boost. The trick will be finding time to make these changes. I have a date day after tomorrow, read about it this afternoon.
This is a photo of the leaky hose that caused twenty years of damage. It progressively zooms in until in the last panel, if you narrow your eyes, you can see the crack. I’ve pulled the chrome nut back to expose it, that tiny black crack in the white material. With the nut cinched up, you cannot see the crack. That explains why it evaded detection, but my take off on that is they should not be allowed to even sell an assembly that can have this type of problem. But no, they want to make big splashy rules that get their names in the paper. Little items like shitter nuts that ruin your floor, that’s not news.
What now? I’ve misplaced a tool that I need now. Oh heck, some say, anybody can lose a tool. Yeah? I’m missing the four-foot drywall ruler. I was just using it two days ago, and brought it inside. How do I lose something four-feet long? Well, I lost my ex-wife and she was five-six. Tomorrow I’ll have a product test for you. I bought one of those ten-year lithium batteries, intending to put it in the Minolta. The Minolta is an old-school digital clock from Tandy (Radio Shack). That tells you I’ve been around long enough to get nostalgic over such pieces that are not quite yet museum-grade.
Anyway, the battery will not function. I hope I have a lemon, because I thoroughly documented and photographed the entire process whereby it failed. Even putting it on the smart charger for an hour barely topped it up half-way. Am I about to hit a goldmine of lithium batteries. This is for real, I’m not like those starving artists to write in to say they don’t like something just to get free food.
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Gossip. My random calendar blog topic shows that this space is overdue for gossip. How about it, gang? This is about as juicy as this blog ever gets, so grab a beer or something. When I arrived in this town, I was the ultimate outsider. Nothing I did fit the local patterns. In those days, Agt. R was bartending, so he kept me filled in on what was being said. It’s true, I did not meet any gals to team up with, but I met all eight hopefuls in the first few months I was here. And a few really pushy ones since then. I did not date any of the eight, but we chatted and bumped into each other over time enough to get acquainted enough to make any choices. I chose none. Here’s my stunt double working the level.
Well, the guy asks her out, and in a man-woman way. Some event requiring tickets, so which my lady friend said she’d pay for her own. No way, he says, but you can already see why I like this gal. So they show up at the event, he gushes thanks that she came with him. Then he goes and sits at another table with other people. Duh. When she’d had enough of this, she drove back home. Okay, I accept that as a half-date. What a gonad!
Be careful you are not enjoying this too much. Gossip will never be this blog’s forte. Curious about my situation, I simply told her I had not met anyone, to which I got the average advice: lower your standards. Aha, that tells me she is still rating me with the others. I explained quickly, same-planet-different-worlds. It is not my standards in the way. The vast majority of the women I reject, and yes, I reject one hell of a lot more than are ever recorded here. I would say I reject at least one woman per day, and many times that in some settings.
You know the score on that one. It is not my standards preventing a connect. You know why I say no, and to recap, the top three reasons are: asking for money, entertaining passes, and overly attached to the mother. And I do not believe those are “standards” or that they can even possibly be lowered without asking for real trouble. Is everyone on that page with me? I am not about to start handing money over to some lady I just met just to get the old end wet. As I keep telling JZ who is shocked by what I will snub, I’m looking for a life companion, not a Saturday night special. There you have it.
But I made up my mind. If I am still empty-handed two months from now, I will ask her out on a “real date”. I’ve had a dozen reminders lately of how much women miss this behavior. You could call in courtship and they should be over it, but it is a natural way for me to conduct myself. I don’t have to try to be a gentleman. I grew up surrounded by men and brothers who considered it a sign of weakness and accused me of putting on airs. I wonder whatever happened to them, but not too much.
All this reaches me a conclusion. Who recalls the steamy times I had growing up and the life I led at the phone company the first six years? It was because I was known as a “safe date”. I never push for sex. I’ve tried, and it increases my score but not my enjoyment. Lots of things happen on a date and I just wait my turn. It worked every time, with one exception, until I was 33. Then I fell out of the habit. Not of being a safe date, but of dating at all unless I was strongly attracted to the woman as a companion, and all the good ones evaporated on that birthday.
Time to turn it on again. Word gets around fast enough. And it is not like I have no dates. This Friday I’m taking two gals out to brunch at the Mongolia. Two class ladies, and the one thing they have in common is they are not from around here. I think you may have met them. Anyway, you see where I’m headed with this, so end of gossip.
ADDENDUM
Roxie is highly trained in psychology. One day I’ll get a list of her degrees for you. That isn’t the important thing, and for that matter, I can’t say the important thing until some more ground gets covered. Far be it from me to interfere with the lives of strangers. Yet this is a situation where I would, if need be, step in. This may not be pure gossip, but it will lead to that, so I would take this chance to explain my side of something. Those of you who have been here a while will recognize the situation.
The odds are against most people ever amounting to anything. I realized by age 28 I was not going to make it on my own. I know what I have by way of assets, I know my shortcomings, and I know how to conduct myself on the balance between the two. One thing I did not want was a life of marriage-induced poverty such as my youth. My parents stole my youth, poverty stole my young adulthood, the wrong woman stole my middle age, and if there is any good destiny in my cards, it has to happen pretty damn fast or it’s game over.
Last for today, I entirely completely undervalued that Fireman tune. Where did I get it from anyhow? One of the guitarists who flunked had it on his list. I didn’t care for the lyrics because I don’t identify with doing other men’s wives. The bass line was a studio special and not well-matched to the theme, so I re-wrote it using a set of walking bass lines that seem to be leading to the wrong spot until the last split second. I do things like that all the time with weak bass material. I had occasion to demo the arrangement and talk about appeal. Women love that song and a few of them were willing to show me just how much. No thanks ladies, but I’m sure some there are real firemen into matronly types.
I must try this at Karaoke, see if it works on their daughters.
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