One year ago today: July 4, 2018, a rehash of stale themes.
Five years ago today: July 4, 2014, on Google snooping.
Nine years ago today: July 4, 2010, the metal, not the paper.
Random years ago today: July 4, 2007, Happy 236th.
GE, good old General Electric. Who besides me can remember when they were a top quality American company? Why I have two of their air conditioners in my house. They have a handy sensor that lights when the dust filter needs cleaning. You can pop the cover off and remove the filter with one hand. That’s where the convenience ends. That sucker needs two hands to be put back in place. It’s designed so if you use one hand, the last corner cannot be snapped into place without dislodging one of the others. In my kitchen, that’s above the refrigerator, so go get the step ladder as well. Yes, I remember back when.
This view out the kitchen window shows the feeder I placed into this picture-like setting, hoping to entice the family back. It was this landscape view that makes me want to put a breakfast nook in this position, where now I’ve got the kitchen sink. I know from Tennessee that a windowless kitchen is quite functional. The other kitchen window is over the stove. I don’t recall ever gazing out either window while cooking or washing. This is one of the partially refurbished windows I repaired. When I arrived, you could barely see through the glass and the thing would not open. I have the screen back down for repair. I’ve been unsuccessful finding replacement hardware for the sash locks. The pieces available today are flimsy imitations at best.
Alas, I replanted the bulb flower before getting a picture. It may recover, since it was damp. I wanted you to see how long the tap root was compared to the above-ground sprig. Around a 4:1 ratio, which is why weeding by hand in Florida rapidly wears you down. The alternatives are spray chemicals, which I try to limit to insecticides, and hand-weeding the sprouts before they can dig in. I hadn’t planned on spending half this year in Tennessee.
Allow me to vent. Something new around here is getting my goat. I have the new Dell keyboard, nothing special about it. But it has some strange key combinations that enact macros if I mistype in the slightest. Eventually I’ll narrow down the cause, but my experience is that you cannot turn those son-of-a-bitchin’ gimp features off. The worst one enables that damn narrator voice with no obvious button to kill it. I have to search out the task manager or whatever, each time.
I’ll say it again, if you feel that strongly about gimps, build them a special computer. But leave mine alone. I do not feel sorry for gimps because they get disability money from my taxes. If you ask me, that is more than compassionate, because the only thing likely to increase my compassion is if they did actually ask. But how likely is that? When I hear of some gimp donating 10% of his monthly government check to help disadvantaged white kids into college, I’ll rethink the situation. To really rankle me, the default voice itself sounds like some damn hair-lip that would make Hawkins himself cuss the thing. Did they really have to add that final annoyance?
Big fireplace.
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Blog rules, it was unusual so it gets recorded. I’m working inside, at my desk and something flies into the side of my head. Could be attracted by the reflection of the Moon off my shiny head, but anyway, it was this praying mantis. Blog news? Yep, this is actually the first time in my life I’ve ever seen a real one. Only pictures in the books. He was still praying or whatever by morning, so I carefully him in my change jar and set the little guy outside. When it comes to religion, why take chances? Well, not so little. That’s actually one big bug.
That process worked well up to, oh I’d guess, the class of ’90. Until then, you could always count on there being a man smarter than the machine. The machines kept getting more and more intelligent, and as for the people, well you can surmise what happened there. Let’s just say for those people, $15 an hour just ain’t happening. Unless it’s caused by the onrushing massive inflation. Caused by all the money printed up to pay their entitlements.
I have the set list together except for the lame pieces (think Eagles), so I’m launching into my traditional deep learning mode. My rule is play the song 30 times and it’s mine. Today I focused on a new one they sent me, “I Feel Fine”, by The Beatles. I began to notice the Beatles when I was around eight years old. They’d been out a while but we had no radio. In other words, I’m playing a lot of their music for the first time now. I put a real bass line behind the lead solo (no squawking here, guitar players, if you listen closely to the live versions, there are notes that I could point to). I also polished up my bass line to “Lady Madonna” as honed to perfection with the last big band. I picked out every relevant note on piano and wrote a bass line to match back then. The combination of the two instruments gives a super sound quality—and this piano player is better.
As for other tunes, I’m struggling with the weak lines in that “Head Over Boots” song. It’s disgracefully uninspired. It’s becoming clearer that the Guitar Center “claw hand” generation seems to have produced bassists that can be astonishingly adequate, but come up short on two counts. Originality and enthusiasm. This isn’t new, just more pronounced. And it finally happened. A bass line so boring I fell asleep playing it. Bryan Adams “Summer of 69”. Zonked me out.
ADDENDUM
This photo shows progress on the front bedroom. That double pedestal desk is coming back out. It is just too large if a double bed is going in there. The only logical place for a desk is near either of the windows and that blocks the shutters from opening by two inches. The Chinese lamp is a nice touch, but none of the outlets in the room are switched, though there is a dimmer on one set of sconces.
Sometimes I chance on a siesta movie I’ve seen so long ago I forgot. Such as “The Wind and The Lion”, or is it the other way around. Sean Connery kidnaps some iffy-looking actress which gets Roosevelt’s attention enough to work it into his campaign. There are loose historical crumbs in the plot, but one thing I never understood is those desert camps full of Arabs. Where are their supplies? There’s a well nearby, but what about food? Fodder for the horses? They don’t even have cooking gear and spend their off moments racing horses and sharpening swords. This messes with my perception of the desert as a place you have to take most everything with you. That’s why it is called a desert.
The jacket says the movie is circa 1975 but bits of the dialogue probably meant to be sly humor would not get many laughs nowadays. And some of the scarier aspects of embassy and diplomat monkey business is still going on. The best thing Trump could do to promote our overseas image is fire all those people on the spot and make a law permanently banning the whole farce. Let business promote itself and if the world wants to see the American way, that’s what they have all their little national airlines for.
Let me tell you something about the dog, Sparky. He’s a rescue pet and I know nothing much about his background. But he is terrified of gunshots, thunder, and fireworks. Last month, some kids over in the next block set off two or three firecrackers prematurely. I was in the kitchen, which the pets do not enter except feeding time. This dog has lived in a nurturing environment for the past ten years. I looked down to see him standing in the doorway. Thinking he was merely scared, I reached give a reassuring pat and he was frozen in place. His frame was quivering in terror. I was unable to calm him, so I picked him up and carried him to the sofa where he likes my fleece blanket.
But he was locked up and would not lie down. I had to pull the blanket on the floor and lay down beside him for around five minutes before he would move. This is behavior I have never seen before. I called the Reb, who said this is why she dreads July 4th. When I carried him he was shivering all over just under the skin. I wonder what could ever cause that?
