One year ago today: August 30, 2018, mmmm, stand up breakfast.
Five years ago today: August 30, 2014, I miss the bakery.
Nine years ago today: August 30, 2010, aw-right, efficacy!
Random years ago today: August 30, 2006, Hurricane Ernesto, my eye.
Fine and dandy, I woke up this morning in a daze and stayed that way. I tinkered around in the yard trying to shake the feeling but all I managed to do was re-pile the lumber and make a few cuts. But I can build a box in a fraction of the original time. Here’s my latest project, I call these small units ammo boxes. This one is for the car tire mini-compressor. Observe how I’ve learned to not take a lot of guff from the wood. No matter how precise your cut, wood has its own agenda. Here is what would have been a simple box for me a month ago. Now it is clamped into place to drill pilot holes before we get to the glue and screws. And this is just a scrap piece. I’m hoping to graduate to much better.
With that said, we are entering a new era of Internet regulation. Way back in the 90s, we used to discuss whether lawmakers would mess things up like they did with MicroSoft. They let MicroSoft get away with all manner of practices that would be illegal for any other business. The reason is the law people did not understand the implications of computer uses and that is there excuse for not enacting preventative rules well in advance. Now that the problems have ripened, they are all over the Internet, and the big mistake once again is not applying existing law on the wrongdoers. Instead, they go for new laws against the big Internet companies because that is easy money. And the laws never work right because they are too narrow.
Old lawyers don’t grasp the concepts, young lawyers are too millenialized to spot the loopholes and implications. Worldwide, hundreds of laws have appeared to harness and tax the Internet. Since these give the impression of short-term success, they will soon number in the thousands. At that point, you get laws that are contradictory and it’s payday for the legal profession. Look at that incident with the girl who posted “kiddie porn” of herself at 16. They can’t prosecute her because she’s a juvenile. It takes almost total legal idiocy to trap themselves in that kind of corner. I know the solution. It’s a simple two-part answer. One, people who don’t think teenagers have sex or try to prevent it are scumbags and two, the state has no business sticking it’s nose between the sheets.
Water harvester.
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The August gig finally, the one you’ve been waiting for. And everything went wrong. I even flubbed one of the best tunes I know how to play. The entire affair was a masterpiece comedy of errors, at least for me. One is not supposed to blame failure on others, but I would if pressed insist I had a lot of assistance on this. Chalk it up to lessons learned, and top of that list is always bring your own amplifier, or in the alternative, never let the other bass player set the amp you are going to use. I got lazy and didn’t haul my big amp all the way here from Florida.
The place anticipated a sell-out crowd for Labor Day, but the place was never more than a quarter full. Then again, consider a few aspects that contribute to that. It is out of the way, so heavy advertising is necessary. There appeared to be nothing. Here’s a pub with no ATM, no WiFi, no cash on your credit card, and none of the fifteen staff has a remote clue where the nearest services are. Hey, they only work there. I’m surprised the joint even had phone service. Using the GPS out in the parking lot, I was able to determine there was a bank 2.2 miles away on Murfreesboro Pike.
Talk about cheapskates, on the way back in the dark, the turnoff is not lit up. There's no lit sign. With black pavement and dead of night, you cannot see the entrance unless you know where to look. Not even a cheap fifty-cent Wal*Mart reflector. And Tennessee roads rarely have shoulders. I wonder how many cars they pull out of the ditches there annually.
I got some great footage, all of it goes to Nashville on Sunday. As the rover, my work will need heavy editing. I’d asked the guy on with the static camera if he had an extra tripod with a 1/4” plug, he said yes. It had no plug, rather a camera shoe. My camcorder, nor any I’ve ever seen, comes with a shoe. So my shots were all hand-held.
Let’s wait for the aftermath and see how it goes. I would point out that my bass was turned so quiet, I could not hear if I was hitting the notes. Somehow, this is the first time I’ve realized I cannot play bass by feel. I mean, why would I play bass silently, it doesn’t make sense. This photo shows the talent, that’s Tom & Krissy. With entertainers, I use real names. The shocker was yes, I know Krissy but cannot place her. It isn’t Florida because she’s never been there, hailing from New Jersey where I’ve never been. I think the Reb & I both know here, from a gig or party or somewhere, I’ll ask. The thing is, she is from the Nashville inner circle, that Opry crowd that holds so much sway over musician talk in this town. To me, the Opry is okay, because some 680 days ago they sang me Happy Birthday, which was jolly nice of them.
