One year ago today: March 4, 2018, the last-minute go-yeller.
Five years ago today: March 4, 2014, WIP (stand by)
Nine years ago today: March 4, 2010, curling is a sport?
Random years ago today: March 4, 2001, needs translating.
6:11 AM. No way I can get around an extra trip to Hollywood asap, so let’s make that today. Nothing stopping me other than no opportunity to give any advance notice [to my crew) in case anybody else needs anything [from down that way]. I’ve got some chasing around to do and the new auto insurance card goes to my old business address at the trailer court. More on why that is later. I left here at speed, taking along a carefully wrapped slice of chicken pie for the road. Miami isn’t cheap and prices have exploded. A Starbucks coffee and cookie, one choc-chip cookie, is now $4.36, or make that $5.00 to make them stop begging for change. Today’s photos are random, scenes from daily life.
7:11. This being Florida, the populace knows I want to stop for gas. You see, every station I pass has the pumps full, some of them with big rigs filling 200 gallon tanks. Finally, I see an open stall at the Marine fill-up, but it is the 94 octane pump. Having no time to waste with Florida, I pull in there and buy 11 gallons of it for $40. The sun was up, the day was nice, and the super gas cured that oxygen sensor problem. The car ran like it just got out of the shop.
8:11. Cruise-controlling through central Florida with nothing but sports and religion, I’m listening to my pre-recording lists, punching out that bass through the car speakers. The family cafe in Lake Placid is closed Mondays. The traffic is light except in the no-passing zones and it is just 163 miles from where I need to be. However inconvenient it might seem to have to get into Miami to do business, that trip if far overshadowed by the ease of operations up where I live.
The Goodwill store in Clewiston has been assimilated. No bargains there, the prices have risen to half retail and you are taking a chance because of the way people donate in Florida. Remember those eight GFCI’s that could not be wired right. People donate junk because it is a tax write-off. I usually by 5 DVDs and two books, which traditionally cost $8. Last year it grew to $15. Today it was $22.40. Time to find another thrift.
9:11 Another stop in Clewiston, that coffee shop I rather enjoyed last trip. But not today, in a sense. You know I do not like women my own age and I have to reason to deny it, plus every reason to state it. Consider it a rare privilege from owning your own blog. There are two servers, the babe moves to take my order and the old lady pushes her aside, kind of I’ll-get-this-one. Ugh. I cannot stress two things enough. One, I do not look or act like other men my age. You only say otherwise because you do not know my age. Two, with regards to my ex-career at the phone place, I purposely avoid doing almost anything that attracts older women.
This has become refined over the year. I give polite, but brusk one-word replies. I walk too fast for them to keep up, I’ve always got something more important than them to get to, I’m saying there is no way interaction with old ladies and me happens by itself. I’m having breakfast and reading a 400-page book on western philosophy. Oh, she says, “I like to read, too.” (Lady, do I LOOK like a truck driver?)
10:11 I start calling around to let people know I’m in town. But notice is too short, even Trent has a business lunch scheduled. I get my chasing around done and head for Starbucks for the hour wait filling my prescription. I plug in the headphones and post your blog. But I’m certain somebody is calling my name. Naw, impossible. No, there it is again. Be-danged, Trent and his party chose the same place for their meeting. They were talking business, so it was hello-goodbye.
11:11 Still in Starbucks. I used the wait to post.
12:11 Thinking the auto insurance people often send my renewal card in advance, I get over to visit with Fred. To discover my insurance has gone up another $39 (six month policy). Should I not be rewarded for safe driving instead of an increase every round? The letter included the usual reminder from the company that they are deeply concerned because they don’t have my phone number, home address, e-mail, and social security number on file. They have the VIN of the insured vehicle, which is the only thing I’m insuring.
Reputedly the best.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
1:11 It should not take a half-hour to pay the phone bill, but I’m back in Miami. JZ is babysitting the kids and Rick the Plumber is in the middle of moving. Generally, I didn’t stick around, thinking to leave early to beat the traffic. Wrong, it, too nearly an hour to get out of town to Alligator Alley. The good news is the A/C has held up for over a week, maybe they found the problem If so, that saves me a bundle of money.
2:11 Reaching Highway 27, it’s a now familiar jaunt up to the Clewiston McDonald's. It’s the half-way point and one of the few that keeps fresh coffee made. The town is a big trucker’s stop, in a sense, but agriculture, not semis. I totally needed that break.
3:11 Ideal motorcycle driving conditions, so I shut off the A/C, slowed down, and opened the windows for an hour. Ford, in it’s wisdom, has those rear windows that only go half-way down. I took the scenic route a bit, talking on the phone to Agt. R. He did well with the payments set up before I left last month, so we are thinking of setting it up for six months. He is sold on my method of paying bills the same day they arrive, but it is an influence that did not persist well over time in the rest of my life. He has ten more payments to receive the first forgiveness of his bailout loan. The money is there, but that’s from when I had a direct hand in matters.
4:11 The memory foam is in the back, so I stopped for a welcome nap, parking a mile from the freeway in an old orchard road. The lack of insects lets you keep the windows open and the trees deaden the traffic noise. I could have slept eight hours, but an hour later I was good to go. It was getting dark already and I dislike those driving conditions.
5:11 The 93 octane improves the mileage as well. Overall, the trip cost less because of it. They had a massive rainstorm, so I called Agt. R back. Yep, it plastered them as well. His return chore for me is to keep the yard clean and plants watered. He won’t have to do that today. It was pretty blinding, so I stopped in Lake Placid for another coffee. Nothing ever happens in Lake Placid.
6:11 It’s over to Zolfo Springs, find your atlas. They’ve put in a new section of highway right through the middle of the hamlet, but the road signs are so confusing people keep turning into the town. The big event was I stopped to buy some crackers and cheese, then cranked on NPR radio. It’s a fringe station in that part of the world, considering I may have been the only English-speaking listener. These left-wind Democrats are destroying themselves through ineptitude. Clutching at straws, they are now going after Trump’s wife. They are losing it bad.
7:11 It’s dark, I slowed down to 55, my motorcycle speed. I know all the little towns on the route and it is particularly a dead night. The last 41 miles took me nearly an hour, instead of home I went up to the Fubar for the WiFi. Prissy was there, we chatted. This is easy to do because it is pool tournament night, meaning although the place is full of men, I’m the only one to talk to.
