One year ago today: February 25, 2018, these easy songs.
Five years ago today: February 25, 2014, WIP
Nine years ago today: February 25, 2010, on duo arrangments.
Random years ago today: February 25, 2008, my best snorkling experience.
This, my ethernet pals, is not going to be the most inspiring post. (Is it "Puh-litzer" or "Pyoo-litzer"?) The car was in for diagnostics. It has already lasted longer—and cost more—than originally planned. We don’t count the $780 emergency repair in Cheyenne, since that was not entirely random. You go the stats y’day and today I have to make a decision that may have to last three years. The transmission is leaking at $200 to $300. The idle problem is an oxygen sensor at $115 to $130. The A/C is the killer. You cannot drive in Florida without A/C and it appears to be the part under the dash. If so, the same problem arises with the heater core. If the dash must come out, that is $700 to $900. Round it off at $1500 and the question is obvious. Is it worth sinking that much into a $1700 car that cost me $3300 so far? That’s ownership costs, not even counting gas and repairs.
I got back early, so on the way I stopped at the “Appliances” place on Hwy 17 just for a look. I scored this excellent paint can sealer for $4, but otherwise there’s no bargains in that joint. The prices are on par with uptown stores that would probably be a little faster to take returns. Excellent coffee, though, and the clerk could easily be mistaken for Ray-B. And the rubber mallet, see photo. This is your serious paint can sealer, that sucker weighs around five pounds. They don’t make ‘em like that any more. I spent the afternoon planting 30 gladiolus bulbs, five lilies, and staked up all the mother-in-law tongues that fell over, as they always do after a transplant.
Hanoi Opera House.
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Here’s a set of neat shelves I picked up for $3 at the church sale y’day. They are a little overkill for the work shed, but at that price they can get wrecked storing nails and spare parts. I didn’t go out except for coffee. I’ve got a gripe about that. I know it is hard to find good help in these small towns, but somehow, there has been a 100% turnover in staff the past month at the watering holes. The Funbar has this two new lady barkeeps. I already told Charla the place is not much fun when she or Prissy aren’t there. I think she already knows.
Two new ladies at the old club as well. All of these gals are geared to blurry-eyed drunks who ogle them. That means they are not my type and in return I get sub-optimal service. All of them have the Denny’s format, where once they serve you, they ignore you until it’s convenient for them to come around. But don’t you dare do anything to get their attention, they are experts at being first-offended. This will pass, I’m not the only one who notices.
If I didn’t go out, what’s the top story? Easy, the window trim. If you look here, I’m pointing to the furring strips I’m attaching because the drywall is slightly raised because I used 5/8” and there is a layer of tarpaper. These strips aren’t an exact science, so disregard any small gaps. I’ve become a bit of an whiz at fixing small gaps and discrepancies with water putty and plastic putty knife. That’s the fun part of the day, it kind of makes me dream of the fast-paced excitement at the car museum.
Don’t pity me, after all, for the comedy portion of the day, there is liberal radio. Example, they’ve got this new tactic pushing the concept that anybody who says the word “libtard”, even once, lives in a single-wide [trailer]. The dig is usually accompanied by photo of a dentally-challenged hillbilly type chewing on a straw. Everybody who doesn’t like liberals is a redneck. If so, I found their major local breeding ground. It’s a night club in Arcadia’s biggest hotel. If you want a lot of attention, walk in there with a pencil and paper. Hey, what are writer’s for if not to help each other out.
Is this dirty pool? Apparently not if the guitar player does it. And there is no rule that says the right is exclusive—just a pervading lack of talent that means only a small cadre of bassists can do it. Cripes, wasn’t that just the nicest way to put it? I’ve done this [tactic] for years so let’s have no surprised expressions. Do such a great bass line it knocks them for six. That’s only half the motive, actually less than half. The payoff is when the guitarist, thinking he was responsible, tries to play the same thing solo. He lands on his arse, then spends his days trying to figure out how to set his amp to sound good again. BWAAA-ha-ha-ha. He can never admit it was another musician doing a good job. Let me translate that into Mexican for you, Ken, “BWAAA-ja-ja-ja.”
Seriously, am I really upstaging the other guy? Nope, you see, because the other guy, being a guitarist, will presume the increased audience attention if focused on himself. If you simply must know, I’ve devised a bass run that utilizes a short chromatic from the 5th to the 6th. It’s a kind of, what’s the word, over-deliberate? Yeah, an over-deliberate Cajun shuffle with fiddle nuances. Changes the mood from a listenin’ air to a dancin’ air. A foot-stomper. And that, Sunshine, is an opportunity with my name written all over it. I’d record the bass line for you but you’d never hear it over the sound of me giggling and rubbing my hands together.
The second choice is not so easy. It’s the Greg Kihn recording, “Breakup Song”. It has distinct arpeggio runs that may prove impossible on bass. It will take longer, that’s for sure. But sometimes these can be faked by audacious use of a capo. Open string work has not been my forte since my early twenties. And that was long after the Chuck Berry era, so no, I did not know that other song was his until I downloaded it. Having said all that, the guy has not been in touch since last Thursday.
Here’s a poser for you. Why would a lady who knows my age tell another lady, who is supposed to be a certain age, that I am twelve years older than I really am? Ah, because the first lady is hung up lore like being age-appropriate. When I ring this one up, I think she just told me the other lady’s true age. What say you? I’m going to go play bass.
ADDENDUM
The millennial world has gone for a dump and it is what they deserve. I’d say from a user standpoint (mine) the real trouble started around 1996. That’s the era when MicroSoft figured out they could scramble their operating system every other year and the latest generation were dumb enough to go out and buy it. Not because it was better, but because MicroSoft lied and told them it was better. The fact is, all MicroSoft systems decay with age. The performance declines with usage. This computer is a prime example. It has never been on-line, the only files stored on it are text and jpegs. Yet it has become slower and slower to display thumbnails, and has begun “detecting problems” that cause a pop-up window wanting to contact MicroSoft.
