November 29, 2019

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 29, 2018, networking or manipulation?
Five years ago today: November 29, 2014, have a Black Friday.
Nine years ago today: November 29, 2010, writers are healthy.
Random years ago today: November 29, 2012, because they’re ugly, says Ann.

           This is where I would crash on the sofa—if there was any room. This is the downstairs sofa near the door, the most convenient place for a siesta without climbing the stairs. I see a few other critters have discovered the plan. I want to head back to the warm climate soon, meaning cancel the original idea of staying here until the 7th. Who’s with me? Good, majority rules. This whole concept of cold belongs up in Chicago.

           Question. What do you think of wax museums? I suppose they would be fun if you had a couple of natural hams who could make the event into entertainment. On the whole, I’d rather go get a haircut. There is a chance, however small, that I could be talked into it tomorrow. Myself, I’d rather stay home, make quiche, drink coffee, play bass. Am I telegraphing my feelings on wax museums adequately here? The Reb actually talked me into a game of billiards last evening. It’s fortunate I’m past the stage where my youth could be corrupted. Again, she won handily—I sincerely did not know she knew that game.

           Sure, I openly scorn today’s generation for their lack of inventiveness, and that only addresses the outward appearance of cerebral laziness. I question if America has produced a crop with no imagination. My real contempt is for the prevailing attitude that despite this lack of accomplishment, they are improving things. The trade shows and fairs are okay, but otherwise there’s a mental block that all the good ideas are already taken and that isn’t their fault. There’s your formula for reverse evolution. Time, the magazine, has a history of reporting the best inventions of the year so consequently, their reporting gets that wee bit more slapped together each time, like they are making this shit up.
           This [newest] issue reflects this impairment. Not one really new invention in the lot. Read my lips, inventing a switch for an oven, no matter how smart that switch, is not on par with the oven itself as a new method for cooking food. It was almost painful to read such strained attempts to present eye makeup, dolls, and iPhone look-a-likes as breakthroughs. It is understood that the magazine was following tradition, but they would have done their credibility more good to outright cancel the feature and explain why. Worst product of the year is dolls that “upset gender norms”. There is a reason they are called “norms”.

           These so-called creations carry enormous price tags. Examples are $400 for a purse (with interior LEDs) and $200 for a laptop-ready backpack. But what the hell when you are living on credit hoping Bermie will save the day. Which reminds me, I was recently criticized for mentioning price too often. Hold on, I say. That means somebody isn’t getting it. When I mention price, it is in direct relation to value. I rarely hesitate to buy something because the price is high, but I will squawk if the value isn’t there. If this isn’t clear, find yourself another blog..
           The obvious case was the $66 for the movie y’day afternoon. If the value had been there, no problem and I may or may not have mentioned the price. But if the value is not there, darn rights you’ll hear about the cost. That’s why it only looks like I’m bitching. It’s a warning, not a sign of stinginess. In addition to what I already said was wrong with the movie (Adams Family), it further irked me over the theme that loonies and weirdos have some special right to mingle with normal people and pull their numbers on them. It’s a dull man who does not notice that crazies are far more intolerant of each other than society at large. It’s even duller to not figure out many seek to prey on other groups because their own kind aren’t so easily duped and often fight back.
           Nor are we talking about statistics here, but perceptions. It does not matter if statistics indicate anything one way or the other on this topic. Trying to convince people by the millions their perception is wrong isn’t the brightest idea. But I suppose every generation has its hopelessly fragmented mentalities.

Picture of the day.
Tool board.
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           See the burrs on the doggie sweater? I glanced quickly and thought they were roaches. It was another long afternoon walk with the animals. Sparkie had the time to crawl into the bushes and picked up these seeds. There are lots of semi-tame deer in the woods that leave markings and droppings everywhere. This keeps the dogs straining on the leashes unless you walk them in a public park. But that means picking up, so it’s a trade-off. I stayed home to get some bass runs into my brain, and found the Reb is also a fan of Cheap Trick.

           That’s the band that, as far as I know because I don’t follow bands, make it big doing covers (playing music from other hit bands). The name Cheap Trick made sense to me on that count. The thing is they have a talented bassist who can punch up some of these old tunes that had feeble original lines. One of them is “Don’t Be Cruel”, an Elvis number. I’d rarely listen to the original except for the new bass line. It sound easy but is actually quite a number of advanced techniques, including matching differing progressions to the vocals, a trick I use whenever I can. The other tune is “Funky Town”, a studio production using two bass instruments.
           And this explains the picture of the animals on the sofa. They follow us around the house, spoiled brats, and when I hung up the bass after dark, there was no place to even sit down. The other sofa, the Reb was crashed on that. I’m beginning to think this place has my number.

           Rip off, the Gevalia brand name. I saw a pepperment mocha latte, a two-part K-cup beverage. You empty the powder into your mug, then make the coffee the regular way. Neat idea, but I won’t be touching the stuff again. There is nothing on the exterior of the package to warn that the product contains frankenfood. Only when you get it home and for some reason turn the powder packet over and read the fine print do you find a reference to genetic alternation. I doubt if one user in a thousand would spot it. I don’t buy that it is any sort of oversight. Anybody shifty enough to pull that stunt cannot be trusted with anything else—for christ’s sakes, people, they are trying to poison you.

           If you look closely in the second panel you can just make out the genetic engineering notice.

Last Laugh