January 31, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 31, 2019, and she scowls.
Five years ago today: January 31, 2015, I don’t like Lego.
Nine years ago today: January 31, 2011, most famous blog cat, sigh.
Random years ago today: January 31, 2014, that seismometer sucked.

           I have a reason to live another twenty years, its those drastically overdue missions to Mars. The one I tend to watch is the return of soil samples slated for 2031. Nothing to report today, my Friday day off went as planned. I’m not one to sit around doing nothing and say that’s relaxing, but I stayed put. I worked on some bass lines and noted the country rhythm player who quit returning my calls is again advertising for something that isn’t there—a ready-made Polk County band. There are more ads these days specifying no startups, projects, collaborations, or soon-to-be efforts. It’s the growing extinction of the traditional band structure.

           The seem to be no more universal hits anymore. I can look at the lists and most are specific to narrow styles. Some listed as hits are so obscure I have to search on-line. Even with my regular sweeps for new material I keep seeing bands billed as famous than I’ve never heard of before. The music market has changed, I think, to where there are no longer a core group or tunes that most everybody listens to anymore. They were called cross-over tunes, like Johnny Cash material that was played on a variety of stations. That seems to be gone. Today’s hits are, musically, very confined to specific audiences. Is it the Internet?

           That’s it, otherwise I spent the day reading. I thought of a movie but in the end watched a DVD, another time-tested tale of everybody double-crossing everybody else. The only true representation was the corrupt cops these days, I’m not saying they are all on the take. I’m saying in your own self-interest, it is wisest to consider that they all are. And I priced out a set of white DR neon bass strings. Thirty bucks. The picture? That’s my keyboard array when I’m multi-tasking. Some folks have real trouble with more than one, but other than the odd time reaching for the wrong mouse, I’m okay with this arrangement.

           I was thinking, isn’t 2020 the year Bush promised we’d have humans back on the Moon? Then Obama cancelled the project in 2010, saying the money could be better spent fixing things. Yep, the money was spent, but it was other things that got fixed. As I said that same year, I am convinced it is better for us to move forward into new environments than to waste money trying to make old places work right. Every human settlement attracts freeloaders and they can never be changed, only left behind.
           The problem of western society is that liberalism supports freeloading to a greater extent than the rest of the world. Leftists see the group as “unfortunate” rather than a consequence. It reminds me of how the French tried to eradicate rats in Indochina by offering a bounty for the tails. The result was widespread rat farming. While I totally agree there is a lack of fairness and equality when it comes to opportunities to get ahead, there is never any excuse for laziness. I tend to view laziness as a condition where people aren’t allowed to suffer their own consequences.

           The inherent unfairness of western society is a corruption of capitalism that allows those with money to gain more than the virtues of owning it. That’s tricky to follow, but the way society is structured, once you get money, you are forced to protect it. I mentioned how rich people are different in that they don’t have to protect themselves from each other—but they do have to protect themselves from those who would confiscate their wealth in the name of equality. That would mean defense against the likes of Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, and their ilk. The best defense is a good offense and a good offense in this country spells political corruption.
           Down the line, the result is a society structured to protect wealth, with the wealthy constantly aware or at least suspicious that one day the hammer will fall. They begin to concentrate and accumulate as much as they can in the theory that they will still have enough left to start over in the aftermath. We’ve seen the rapid accumulation of most American wealth in the hands of the 1% because of this. They are not free to “create jobs” as the propaganda suggests, but increasingly forced to horde. This is accomplished largely by preventing others from getting a share. Even at the top, there is not, so to speak, enough to go around in the sense of having confidence it won’t be confiscated. In America, most confiscation takes the form of taxes.
That’s your essay for the day.

           [Author’s note: TMOR, if you were to read American articles related to my economic theories, you will find many differences. My opinions are those expressed by my contemporaries and my own experiences. The difference is I have studied advanced economics and seen both sides of the picture. I have slept at the Torrey Pines and I have slept in a cardboard box. While the ivory-towered elite will say I’m talking through my hat, I can reply that they are the ones who have lost touch with reality. Neither side is entirely correct, but few of the others have personally been, like myself, on both sides of the economic fence. ]

Picture of the day.
Cedar shingle options.
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           In the course of keeping squirrels out of my birdfeeders, I moved two seed dispensers under the kitchen window awning. The plan was to get the birdies tame enough to ignore movement inside. The unexpected result was the awning giving shade in the sun and shelter in the rain. These birdfeeders far out-perform the others, dispensing nearly twice the product. Taming the birds has not succeeded. They are very skittish near the window and are also camera shy. When they see the camera inside, flight is instant. The best I’ve got is a few seconds before they spot the device.

           And yes, I’ve thought of moving the camera way back inside the room and telephotoing. Sony has taken measures to prevent that. This camera shuts itself off after sensing no or little motion after 28,000 kilobytes, just over one minute. It’s not the feature that’s idiotic, but how they made it impossible to disable. Since the birds flee for five minutes at least, all I get is video of the feeders.
But nice guy that I am, I got some of that for you. This is why my readers say kind words about me, and my detractors say different kinds of words. You can see it swinging so forlornly in the dripping rain. C’mon, enjoy the video. It took me three minutes to create it.

           Tomorrow, I’ve got it penciled in. We get that bathroom floor done. It will include a removable trapdoor to get at the “guts” of the system, which is now centralized. The existing tank takes two minutes and ten gallons of water to get a hot shower happening. The new system is practically instant, which is nice when you’re on the move. I’ve also roughed in the plumbing for the ambient or tempering tank which should give an unlimited supply of hot water for half the current system uses. The bills are not bad, but I’m usually the only one here. I use less than a fifth of the minimum water service I pay for each month. Then again, I don’t have my dishwasher, garden, and front lawn yet.
           In other news, JZ calls to say he’ll shoot up this way next Wednesday. I say not. He also says I’m wrong about there being nothing to do in Miami. But he’s short on examples. Other than touristing, name me five things to do in Miami. Don’t include walking in the parks and such because they stink from the homeless and the few good locations will have the police run you off after an hour. I asked him for a list of five things. If he comes up with any, I can make the list even shorter by asking which ones he uses on a regular basis. Read my lips, Miami is third world and its culture has fallen to that level.

ADDENDUM
           Club memberships in the news again, placing clubs in more danger of being accused of violating discrimination laws. That is outrageous for the simple reason the very concept of a club with membership is the exclusion of undesirables. Of course the rejects are going to scream it is some bias on the federal hit list when it is the simple fact they are not welcome. I point out again that there is nothing stopping others from forming their own clubs with their own standards. But saying existing clubs cannot restrict membership is abrogating their rights of the club. Some people you don’t want in your house, your car, or your club. Those whiners should not be able to turn it into a personal rights issue. Now you get ass-clowns who don’t even want to join the club protesting on the pavements. Hypocrites.
           Yes folks, it’s time to thin the herd.

Last Laugh

January 30, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 30, 2019, whoa, typo city.
Five years ago today: January 30, 015, drunk broad attitude phases.
Nine years ago today: January 30, 2011, the actual trailer at the court.
Random years ago today: January 30, 2013, the Barn, Aventura.

           Welcome to Ft. Meyers. It was not that great a day, but I did get around. I could not find that big bookstore from the time JZ and I went swimming in the Gulf. Not even an on-line search, but I recalled there was a Goodwill book donation center a few hundred yards from the store. Didn’t find either. The meeting was not blog material, but let’s just say I signed some documents that could bring a quick solution. You want the fun parts. I visited everybody I knew in town. But it is Super Bowl time again and I can’t even name the teams. The Boston Broncobrains vs. the Sacramento Shitheads. Did you know the average man consumes, during the game and events, 10,000 calories. Myself, I can’t stand even watching such behavior, but that’s just me.

           I may help out with a yard sale. Remember the lovely yacht lady? She’s ready to part with a lot of stuff and none of that is junk. Have I not showed you pictures of the hand-restored radios and some of the books she gave me? It would be, if you ask me, a pity to risk that kind of quality to yard sale prices. People show up at those things expecting to spend fifty cents. I don’t care for eBay or PayPal, so I’m going to look for some alternatives. There are a few options, one of them is that somebody finally sent me, sight unseen, a credit card in the company name. I’ve used it on occasion, they really don’t know who I am, but paying the bills smack on time has gained me a sizeable credit limit.

           This photo is an item I bought because of the price. It’s a short range FM transmitter that plugs into an earphone jack and plays on your car stereo. I already have a setup, but it took a hit from a piece of lumber the other week. This unit is better and that’s one less trailing wire to snag on things. It is built in Viet Nam, can play on twenty different frequencies, and sells fo $7.95. This would be impossible in America, where most labor has priced itself out of the market. Nobody is building new factories unless it can operate on immigrant part-timers. You know who to thank for that.
           In my own lifetime, I’ve seen the dollar plummet to a dime, and on things that matter, to a nickel. That’s a good rule of thumb for my personal experience. What cost 25 cents in my day now costs $2.50. Certain items, like the 5 cent chocolate bar are now $1.89. In theory, if competition works as it is supposed to in a capitalist system, prices should actually go down, but the system is broken. Then again, I do not view communism as the opposite of capitalism except in theory. In practice the true force against capitalism is money-lending. Think about that, because the subject is not taught in our schools.
           Without credit, buyers develop an entirely different perception of value. They learn restraint and the concept of delayed reward. Without credit, sellers would be under severe pressure to maintain quality in what they sell—even if they do not manufacture it themselves. And they would have a tough time trying to sell anything for a penny more than it was worth. It is credit, not communism, that destroys capitalism. Credit displaces value on to notions that have no inherent worth. Like the worthless American dollar. It only has value as long as everybody plays the game.

           Taking the scenic route back, I wound up at a Mexican restaurant in Arcadia. I don’t otherwise care for that town, but this was authentic. Nobody spoke English (how do these people get past immigration). They had the usually candy and pottery from Mexico and my one meal of that day was a combo. I never could tell you the names of Mexican foods that come in rolls or crispy shells. I took my time and read up on Javascript. It’s another “dot” language created by goofs who really don’t know much about the proper use of punctuation. The one thing about on-line businesses are they are so alike. And if you don’t care for that format, too bad. And the majority of them have a faint aroma of dishonesty about them, even if you are just looking.
           My opinion is the way net businesses work is a process that evolved down rather than up. My incentive is to take a closer look at the role that Javascript plays in the transaction part. Let’s just say I was somewhat intrigued by how Opera, a browser I quit recommending years ago, started out so great and then fell into the micro-loan business to the point they were almost arrested.

Picture of the day.
Firefighting tank, Russia.
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           I’m delving into Javascript. It has nothing to recommend it, but like a lot of such things around the Internet, it somehow became a standard. What I would like is to get a crack at the real code that makes Javascript operate. But I cannot find even a mention of that layer. I’m further into the language that ever before, so I’ll continue until, as happens with all Internet affairs, the advanced material outruns the systems it is supposed to work on. It only takes a few minutes to find features that don’t work right on every browser. This is a fault of the way browsers are coded. You can’t fix things without adding more code, which eventually unstabilizes the entire workings. Just look at how IE (Internet Explorer) grew to where it fell from its own weight.

           There is also a tone to the books on web programming. I can’t define it exactly. But it reminds me of Art, the guy I wanted to program a database of blank fields. I handed him the specs of what the fields should be, expecting him to just go ahead and do it. Nope, I finally had to tell him to get lost because he would not do the work unless I told him what information I was going to put in the fields. It’s that kind of push that I feel when reading coding textbooks, like they want to drag you down to their level, or at least a level where they can steal your idea. It’s as though they’ve been inculcated that being a little bit sneaky and snoopy is an inborn trait of the computer business.

           I instantly disliked Javascript for using two types of variable addressing. Done right, there should be only one method in a given software product. This is hard to describe, but here’s my attempt. A variable is a location in memory. You plug a value in there and take it out when you need it. Changing the value in that location is something you only do deliberately. But these self-styled “object oriented” languages can treat that two ways, this is not a technical explanation. They can either use the value or make a copy of the value and use that. You can now change the value of that copy without changing the original value in memory. There are a number of ways this is done, in my day we called them “pointers”.
           Either method is acceptable if it is consistent. The dangers and problems rear up when they are mixed. And they always are in web page scripting languages. When I encounter memory location problems, that’s the first thing I look for. But it is clear by the failure rates of airplanes, ships, and space probes that this caution is not shared by the majority of college grads nowadays. Javascript embodies nearly every evil aspect of C+ and OOPS programming. Proponents love to chime that object-oriented is the most widely used programming style because it organizes information the same way as the human brain. Fools they be, since computers were intended to help humanity get around that restriction. Just as humanity allows stupidity, so does OOPS programming.
I’ve never been a fan of unstructured programming languages. The code becomes just as convoluted as some people’s thinking. The code became big not because it was good, but because it was another case of majority rule and first to market.

           Congratulations to Hawaii being the first state to unanimously adopt Right to Repair. It makes sense to me an island has less need for electronic landfill than continents. But please let this be a nail in the coffin for Sony, who brought us this mess starting with the “service contract” back in the 80s. And the Department of Justice finally took this blogs advice and followed the money. It led to TollFreeDeals, Global Voicecom, Global Telecommunications Services, and KAT Telecom. All were fraudulent robocalls with ties to India, which should give you some idea of the mentality over there. Does this mean I won’t be practicing my Urdu profanity on that prick Paki-Waki any more? Aw, too bad.
           Not so great news with encryption. The non-elects in DC, led by that wretched hypocrite Lindsey Graham are pushing for mandatory rights to read your encrypted communications. I use Protonmail from Switzerland and that is one company they would target. Graham seeks to require electronic backdoors and is once again packaging it as anti-child pornography, his favorite tactic for pushing horrific bills against privacy. The guy is unhinged and will do or say anything to keep what he considers his permanent job, being a senator. Let’s hope he shot himself in the foot this time.

ADDENDUM
           You get the long version of this next item. It’s a reminder of the origins of this blog as a journal and my own bad memory. Couple that with my agreement on the statement that if you really done something, it ain’t bragging – just hold off on the embellishments. This concerns my singing, something I could not do until one day in around 2009, I “figured it out”. I grew up thinking it was a talent you had or didn’t and it’s now one of those things I wish somebody had told me the easy way. But, in my life anyway, that’s never happened yet. Same with money, budgetting, and other important things, no mentors in my time. This will take some wording here because what happened next ties all this together.
           When I finally could sing, I found I could also do decent imitations of other singers, even yodeling. But the old saying that bass players can’t sing has solid reasons behind it. Critics will point out how some bass players sing, but they have not noticed the tradeoff. When the bassist sings, his bass lines suffer, and vice versa. What I did to combat that was force myself to learn to keep the bass lines going and it was so much extra hard work, I’m not surprised not a lot of people do it.

           However, the unexpected benefit of this was I found I could bass solo, something I’ve never seen anybody else do. It’s out there, but I never saw it, that is, my act was independently derived. And by 2012 I was soloing in Colorado. My last solo was in 2018 at the pavilion in Winter Haven when my guitar player quit without notice. So, where is all this going? While in Nashville, I paid close attention to the ads and what other bassists were doing. And a lot of the ads specified harmony vocals. Hell, I thought, singing melody is tough enough, I went out to see how harmonies were even possible.
           What I found was predictable. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these people have what I don’t, it’s called real talent. I witnessed how so many of them were faking it by reverting to simplistic bass—in the worse cases, they played the same dull bass line every time they sang harmonies. I further noticed it is hard to spot unless you are looking for it, but imparted that dullness to the overall sound. Now let’s look at those harmony vocals. Over the previous 18 months, I’ve been trying to learn this. The process was the same, I just figured it out same as melody vocals, but got much worst over the same said limitation—bad bass playing. And it gets worse before it gets better. Yes, but. I may lack the talent but I have the experience on how to force these things to work together. Keep reading.

           Forget books and Internet lessons, they have the tedious “it’s easy” approach that doesn’t work for me or most people. And I discovered lead singers do not like to rehearse with harmonies. And they themselves don’t like to do harmonies. That is important to the understanding we’re working toward. What they want and usually expect is that you have separately learned the harmony parts and show up ready to accompany. Thus, I had no person to practice with, not even the Reb. I dealt with this the same as my bass playing. I sang along with the recordings, but this created another problem. If you have ever sung along with a recording and the recording stops, you discover how badly you sound and that you don’t really know the material. You know what I’m talking about.
           I kept at it anyway, as was my habit. This was an almost hopeless task and I made it worse by playing solo bass the way I do. The result was a year later another discovery. There was one version of harmonies I could do while playing real bass lines. Who remembers my reports on how I play a lot of thirds on the bass? Well, I could do that one harmony vocal as well. Thirds are the sweet-sounding vocals you hear in so much country music. And, I could do the thirds an octave lower with practice. I’m getting to the point.

           The lack of a practice partner found me doing something peculiar and music-wise, seemingly useless, which I say because I’ve never seen it. Since most harmony vocals occur during the choruses, I found I could sing melody along to the verses, switch to harmony thirds for the chorus, then back to lead vocals for the next verse. It’s just the way I practice. This seemed such a non-starter that I never gave it a second thought. Until last evening. Charla fired up the Karoke machine for some friends and asked if I wanted to sing. Sure.
           My act is extroverted, and the lady singer before me was still on the stage with the mic in her hand. I often get the whole room singing along, and gestured for her to sing. Guess what happened? She sang the melody and I semi-automatically switched to the harmony line. What a sound! I looked around to see where it was coming from. I reverted to lead vocals for the next verse, and next chorus I was ready. It happened again. And, if done right, nobody out there notices the roles are inverted. I’m not very strong at it, but this is a repeat of how I learned to sing at all. What have I stumbled on here?

           It’s only thirds, but I can play real bass lines to them. I wonder. Up to now, I assumed what everybody else does—that the lead vocalist sings the whole song and if there are harmonies, they are added on. That is, a given singer either sings lead or sings backup, no mixture allowed. I sang three more tunes to make sure it was real. This would be something if I discover I don’t need somebody else to do harmonies if I want them in one of “my” songs. Is that clear enough? I let them sing the melody to the chorus and I do my own harmony thirds.
           Since most people know the lyrics to the chorus, this means little effort on their part. It increases my workload, which is hardly a surprise. Give me a little time to pursue this.

Last Laugh

January 29, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 29, 2019, dinner at Las Palmas.
Five years ago today: January 29, 2015, jerkasses.
Nine years ago today: January 29, 2011, it was bingo instead.
Random years ago today: January 29, 2016, mmmm, cornbread.

           My first farm fresh egg. Delicious, the yolk is a little more orange that the factory brands. This was a tough day on the house. That cracked PVC drain had to be replaced by removing the closet floor. Keep reading and this afternoon I’ll grab a few pictures of the process. And explain why it took so long. I was listening to Boss Hogg, a re-broadcast about the corruption in Puerto Rico. It would actually be worse than Mexico but for the imposition of US law on the island. Am I against hurricane aid? Yes, and I can explain that. Because the money is not being used for the intended purpose. The Puerto Ricans have adapted to permanently living on American welfare.

           They have consistently voted against becoming a state because they would “lose their culture”. Yeah, let’s take a look at that culture. We sent them a billion dollars last hurricane and they refuse to build hurricane-proof shelters. They build ramshackle and next hurricane they’ve got their hands out again. We tried to send the technicians to help them do things right, but the shipload of equipment sent along with the personnel disappeared. That’s right. When they arrived all the supplies had disappeared.

           Scouting around, they found 13 huge warehouses of hurricane aid, including their gear. They almost got into a firefight with the National Guard to get it. Yep, Puerto Rico, that’s some culture you got there. And confirmation that welfare just breeds a permanent sub-class of dependency. Look at Canada, with its seventh-generation welfare cases. It’s become the family business. Tell you what, I’ll pay you $10 for every welfare case you show me that got off her as and raised her own chickens for eggs. The catch is if she is not still doing it a year later, you owe me $20 back.
           Here’s a little background. We never had chickens on the farm. There was always much talk of it, but I was totally against the idea. Can you guess why this farm kid never wanted farm animals? Easy, for the rest of the family, they would be pets. For me they would be livestock. Guess who’d get stuck feeding and watering? This pattern was already so well-established by the time I was maybe eight years of age that I spent a measurable portion of the next decade arguing that I would refuse to tend other people’s animals.

           It was one of the few times I successfully argued my way out, but it was less my debating skills and more that the legendary laziness of my siblings was so drastic that even those living in denial had to allow for it. Sad? Maybe. I didn’t want any stupid pets, I wanted a motorcycle. I did get one only to learn years later that if I had been paid minimum wage, I could have bought it myself. However, allowing for different levels of involvement, if motorcycles are the chosen currency, the farm owes me another 412 motorcycles. My long-term readers have seen this number before. How is it determined?
           Mainly, it was the amount promised, but that comes to only 37 motorcycles. Part of the remainder comes from extrapolation. If your brother works for an hour and gets paid $5, how long do you expect to have to work for the same amount? Well, there you go. That’s 412 motorcycles I never saw.

Picture of the day.
Today’s college cafeteria.
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           Here’s the mid-afternoon report. This photo shows the extent of the chore required to relocate that laundry room. You can seen the PVC with added stack in side the closet. Now the explanation of the long delay. The laundry required two new outlets, one of them 240V. The wiring had been installed for the projected Florida room, but that won’t happen. So existing wiring had to be removed and re-routed, which is never easy as the wire coils and twist with a mind of its own. The drywall was old an brittle so it had to be practically shoveled out. Then the tarpaper, shown here half done. These walls will be insulated.

           The water supply was the tough chore. The washing machine requires a new water tank, which in turn means re-plumbing the entire bathroom. That’s why the floor is still torn up. While there, I installed a new exterior hose bib, roughed in the spot for the new tank, and put in the water faucets. I decided against a laundry tub. The pipes are all have that tube insulation. The floor joists had to be scabbed and I’m not looking forward to installing that new closet (toilet).

           Note the many non-plumbing tools needed, and you only see the ones I have to keep handy. In this photo, I’m strapping the pipes in place. There is one plumbing joint to go, but add two hours for that, as I have to hacksaw out the cracked section and it is under the bathtub, where I can’t get at it any other way. Yet I rate this a damn good day. It’s one of the reward days for multi-tasking. I don’t hold it against people who don’t multi-task if they choose not to. That way, they get reinforcement with each completed task. Not so, but once in a while I get a day like this one where a half-dozen items come on line at once.
           I mentioned the egg, I also walked on some solid flooring, did a load of wash, and the dryer this time was properly plugged in. I left the chickens in the coop overnight and most of the day. And I got the proper tags on the scooter. Tomorrow is a day off, but Friday I’m expecting to be roughly $500 under budget for the month. No, Theresa, you can’t have it. Like when I’m over budget, it doesn’t mean I’m broke, that’s a tricky one for you as well. I think I’ll buy a really nice washing machine. The portable unit I have is on its last legs.

Last Laugh

January 28, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 28, 2019, 25 years later.
Five years ago today: January 28, 2015, jerkasses.
Nine years ago today: January 28, 2011, early MakerShed mention.
Random years ago today: January 28, 2014, who’s who movie-wise.

           I ate beef. I was on the road early and had to stop, so I made it Burger King. Normally I only have coffee there, though I’m okay with chicken nuggets at time. Not today, I went for the 5 for 4, and this picture shows the aftermath. How was it? Delicious. They do something to the food to make it addicting, I swear it leaves you craving. This order includes the coffee, hash browns, nuggets, a bacon burger, and a cookie. I didn’t dare look at the calorie chart. I picked up supplies for the house, over the next couple days I’ll try to give you some insight into the amount of work required.

           A morning on the laundry electric and pipes. And Boss Hogg radio. They had the show by that Lady G, who is okay but a bit too much of a leftist. The feature was about poverty and she suffers heavily from the popular misconceptions of social scientists. That’s where all poor people need is a decent job and an income and they will rise in status to the point where they turn around and help others do the same. A deeply flawed concept at best. The whole idea in America is to get on welfare or disability since they rarely ever take these things away. You can live better than 90% of the world by getting into this country and chopping off your little finger.
           She is also a believer in registered charities. I’m the opposite, saying the instant a charity registers anything, it is no long charity but a tax dodge. My contention is that poverty should be addressed by the churches or tax the churches. I don’t mean in a religious way, but to give the homeless temporary shelter and that’s about it. It doesn’t help matters that the libtards let in 30 million unskilled laborers who took away all the jobs these now homeless people used to do for a living. I understand there are churches that have programs for the downtrodden, but they try to force religion down their throats along with the watery porridge. No wonder so many of them prefer to live under bridges.

           If I could point to one single factor that caused the decline of America, it is the loss of the work ethic through taxation for the purpose of wealth redistribution. Bread and circus schemes have never worked. And now that Trump has shrugged off the ridiculous cloak of political correctness, I demand to know how somebody voted when they start looking for a handout. I maintain that all people on government payroll, including civil servants and welfare cases should not be allowed to vote. Conflict of interest. That crowd will never vote for a balanced budget.
           And while I’m griping, how does anyone figure Boston bands with horn sections rate as rock and roll. Face it, that’s the wrong sound and their lyrics are always about either extreme or unrequited love, another issue that doesn’t dovetail with rock, which is about the good times, not the consequences. Kind of the antithesis of country music. Say that was neat how I just made that contract. Rock is about the fun, country is about the consequences. Now I’m going to go glue up some more pipes.

           This will be another day of grunt work where the results won’t show. I’ve got to replace a section of drain pipe because I installed it right where I need to put a concrete support. And there was not convenient studs where I needed to locate the outside taps and outlets. With the old and settle existing structure, I had to custom cut brace for each port. That took time, and I’ll need to make a supply run because one of the sections broke as I lifted it out. I thought PVC was a little tougher than that.
           The progress is there. Now I can finish the second closet floor and the north wall section I had to leave open for this stage of the work. Don’t let me forget to insulate that part of the floor and wall, it’s been so long I don’t exactly remember the order I did things in that part of the house. As for the PVC, now I’ve got experience. If there’s a spot where they won’t match up, but I’ll just Fernco it.

Picture of the day.
Brook Shields today.
I’d tap that.
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           Mid-afternoon and my rule of thumb of 3-1/2 hours per outlet again shows I could not make it as a contractor. I could have beat the timer but one strange event slowed me down nearly an hour. That makes it bloggable. I drilled the regulation hole through the studs and came to a corner. This should not have been anything difficult, but I had to drill from both sides because of the corner box offset. No problem, I know how to do this and I could see the light from the other side of the wall. I was through.

           Except no way the wire would fish. The way it circumstanced, I could not both feed the wire and see the other end. Nearly 45 minutes, that wire would not poke out the other end. I went back and forth how many times? I was about to give up and cut the stud when I gave it one more push and it went through just that easy. The next challenge is the electrical box. For exterior outlets I use the proper metal box and code calls for GFCI. There’s the rub. The largest single box made is a super tight fit for the smallest GFCI. That’s unless they make a special box that I never heard of and is consistently not mentioned in my collection of five wiring books, including the superlative Black & Decker.

           Here’s a clip of the dryer circuit done right. Note the double depth box. You can see me fitting a brace where I had to miss the studs. Note the proper wiring, now finally identifiable by color. This is a 240V circuit so soon we’ll have a real dryer. That’s a dig at Tennessee, where the dryer there takes two hours lead time before you get dry jeans. Plus all my clothes come out with a bit too flowery an aroma. Like roses or lilacs. I expect another day to finish roughing in this tiny corner of the house. And another two weeks to get the room completed to the point I’ll live in it permanently. Up to now, it has been back and forth depending on the phase. Sometime I think it was the moon phase, but I say I’ve learned a lot.

Last Laugh

January 27, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 27, 2019, chicken soup, shhhhh.
Five years ago today: January 27, 2015, grenadine.
Nine years ago today: January 27, 2011, deep humor.
Random years ago today: January 27, 2008, library hours are insane.

           I couldn’t get underway, so it was a day of reading and research. I was pondering the matter of interstellar space travel. Take an imagined trip to Alpha Proximus, 4.3 light years away. Presuming a speed of 10% of light, the travelers would still be able to pick up news from Earth along the way. Would it be higher or lower in tone? What would video look like. Would there even be any difference, since according to Einstein, the spaceship would still measure light at speed c. That’s the c in E=mc². Another laugh today is the problems with the Google translating software. It’s the “water sheep” scenario all over again, with the same old claims and same old errors. The present level of computer coding cannot handle names and compound words. And the caliber of the coders means it won’t be, because of C+ again. The only thing they can do is keep adding more code, which amplifies the problem.

           It was the library, where I’m having trouble finding non-fiction books I have not already read or on topics that bore me. Like baby names, teen abstinence, and agriculture in Togo. It was a book on hand made sundials that I was after. There seems to be no novel designs. Book after book, except of the building materials, looked much the same. However, I saw one that was horizontal. That might be something. It hangs like a picture and the shadow casts downward as the sun transits. Your trivia today is the gnomon. That’s the stick that makes the shadow. It’s characteristic shape is to keep the shadow sharp when it is long. The trivia is that you always read the front or straight edge of the shadow.

           Here’s a shot of “dog marching”. Once again, these clips take on a comical effect. I was going to call this “Imhotep Practice”. The practical explanation is making noise to scare away snakes and small animals that would otherwise make the dogs hard to manage. Oddly, these clips are likely to remain because they generate a lot of hits. While the primary benefactor is the dogs, it is also nice to have a partner who knows how to have fun. I don’t know how many women I’ve dropped for the sheer boredom they impart. At the other extreme, there is never a dull moment around the Reb. I always thought that was because we have so little in common. Seriously.
           The scooter takes my gas budget down to reality. But unlike the 150cc, there is no place to carry anything on this unit. And no trunk to lock anything in. So every time you park, it’s carry everything with your. There is also the consideration that it is light enough for two people to easily pick up and throw on the bed of a pickup. I’ve got more than enough material to finish the job, the trick is to get me started. And yet another bird has found its was inside. There are no openings, so that points to that missing bathroom floor panel. It has to be left open to reach the spot for the hot water connection when I get around to the new tank. The feeder outside the kitchen window has an established visitorship, which includes the female bluejay. The smaller birds really have to fight for a toehold, so watch for a perch to appear shortly.

Picture of the day.
Henry Ford.
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           Blue. That’s the color of the 2-stroke motor oil I add to the Yamaha. It’s dyed a deep blue. I didn’t know that and presume it is to not confuse it with other oil. Apparently it is formulated to keep down smoke levels. And it gets expensive unless you buy it at Wal*Mart. I ran across another article about how smallpox seems to have originated at the same time as civilization, or around 9,950 B.C. This is based on DNA examination, but none of these publications tell me how that is possible. If they are simply extrapolating backwards, that is not good enough for me.
           BIt’s deep siesta time. I looked at the plumbing and said, “It’s too late to get a start on that today.”

           Now where is my mall cop movie? You know, that lame DVD about mall cops from around ten years ago. I want to see how my co-workers who didn’t take the buy-out package turned out. Actually, they might make good rent-a-cops because of the experience they have of avoiding every possible work situation. You know, I have a Blu-ray player and a growing collection of the disks, if I ever find time to set the thing up. I’d like to see some of the sequels to the Terminator series, where the studios save a ton of cash by having the robots evolve back into humans. Found it, but it’s another defective disk, so I watched the comedy “Goods” about the used car business. Lots of sub-plots that moved in a lot of directions.

           One habit of mine is to keep song lists from most any musical situation I go through in my life. The songs have a lot of overlap because I target certain music styles. It was a revelation to go over them anyway. Unlike some, it shows that over time, my list renews itself in as little as two years. The average, however, is closer to twelve years. If you read over this entire blog, you’ll find constant referrals to bands and rehearsals that never worked out. Sorry, blog rules say no names and sometimes I’ll find mention of groups I don’t remember. The count remains and in this life, I’ve attempted to put together or planned out over 160 band situations. And I’ve jammed with another 61. The guitar player from Winter Haven with the matching song list this week never called back.
           I know the reason. He wants to get into a “full” group, meaning five members. This is a style of band I quit with in 1994. I’ve played in a few since then, but competition from DJs and Karaoke took direct aim on big bands, which are also expensive. They are also a pain in the butt over logistics. Have you ever tried to keep five people in line during this age of built-in excuses? Nor is it lost to me that my trend toward smaller groups was provoked by no shows. As little as two years ago, I soloed a gig in Winter Haven.

           Let me elaborate on that. Bands are not a democracy, but people tend to talk like they are. I’ve never seen a band where the members have equal say, but I have seen the pirate system. That’s where the crew follows a leader only insofar as he keeps making the right decisions. Big bands, which to me is three or more, became a losing proposition by 1998. The only successful bands (my definition of success is still playing a year later with 80% of the original members) has been, in Florida, all duos. The Hippie and Jag went the distance, but the Hippie only because I can tolerate bull-donkey if the gigs are there, and Jag eventually headed off to college.
           Last, I’ll describe something that I won’t show you. I printed up a calendar from some software on this computer, just something to keep track of gas and mileage. It’s so I could track at a glance the trips and time in Tennessee. I put a mark on the days I was away. Should be random, right? Well, when I walked into the room the other day, I saw the pattern of marks spelled out “HIS”. This means nothing but it was an event, so it gets at least this one paragraph. And the picture here is of the Post Office at Tallulah Falls. I got nothing else for you. Readership is also down, but that could reflect any number of situations. I read that gifs are a failing format, but what is there to replace them? The books say upload video to youTube and link. There are serious ownership problems with that.

Last Laugh

January 26, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 26, 2019, my carpentry history.
Five years ago today: January 26, 2015, this guy’s in charge?
Nine years ago today: January 26, 2011, my last ten bucks.
Random years ago today: January 26, 2010, found in garbage.

           I’m in the mood for politics and gossip. It’s not my fault it’s so hard to tell the difference. It is freezing this morning, so I was on the airwaves. Here’s items that caught my eye, mainly because I am critical of misplaced sympathies and I certainly don’t share or identify with any of the media-induced waves of collective guilt sweeping the country. First on the list is the Boeing 777X. Like Disney, when the old guard died off, the company proved unable to keep pace and began living off its reputation. While this is okay for musicians (right, Paul), innovation for these entities becomes more akin to disguising how closely they’ve copied their earlier successes.
When they try something new, it crashes. I can tell you exactly what went wrong with the 737 Max and the Mars probe. C+ code.

           These expensive disasters are what you get when you let the Calibri 11 bunch mess with your code. The 777X is a 747 with bigger engines and it looks it. The airplane is designed for sale to the Arabs, who since the first Bush administration can’t seem to spend enough of their time and money anyplace but Arabia. There is also the factor you have Chinese and north Seattle employees making parts for airplanes they could never afford to fly in Such people are really hard to convince their biggest concern isn’t food and rent, but the safety of foreign jetsetters. Why the comfort of those passengers crosses their minds at least twice a day, I’ll bet. And three times on payday.

           That’s similar to the reason I don’t watch America’s Got Talent. They give the prize to the fat kid, the ethnic, or the gimp instead of the best act. And I can only stomach so many singers. Unless they look like Taylor, that’s different. But the rest can be hard on the eyes. Or how about Google announcing the fees they will charge the cops for your files. Eerie, that Google has that much information on you without any oversight or controls, much less any say on your part. I’m on the other side. Google doesn’t even have my phone number. Pardon me, they think they have my phone number.
           The caronavirus, 56 dead. What to do? That’s the picture above, the latest strain from China, which is replacing Africa as the birthplace of modern plague. The right thing would be to announce the victim’s country of origin, how long they’ve been here, and whether or not they were vaccinated. The virus has no “shot” but vaccinated people over time build up resistance from having milder infections like the common cold or the so-called Middle East Respiratory Syndrome. You know why there are 56 dead? Because in China, casualty announcements are state-controlled. In America, we have the same thing except we don’t call it corporate-controlled. See how tricky I worded that? Let’s see, what else can I gripe about?

Picture of the day.
Floodplain.
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           Here’s a picture of the first class cabin in the 777X, called the Emirates Suite. It looks not unlike the interior of the camper I did not buy. You will notice the influence of two thousand years of Arabic culture in the design of this cabin. For instance, there is the . . ., um, . . ., the little round windows. They invented those in Arabia, didn’t they? Come on, work with me here. Okay, there’s carpet on the floor. That I know they have that because otherwise all that sand would get in their toes and get tracked in and all. They do have shoes, don’t they? You know, with those curled up toes with the little bells.
           And who’s to say all the burled walnut wouldn’t grow in the Empty Quarter if somebody just gave it a chance. Along with a few billion gallons of water. This is luxury, you get three windows. So you can see the missile heading your way.

Last Laugh

January 25, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 25, 2019, hmmm, anniversary mix-up
Five years ago today: January 25, 2015, tanks in the jungle.
Nine years ago today: January 25, 2011, early mention of A.I.
Random years ago today: January 25, 2003, she’s since disappeared.

           The original of this post disappeared. Around here that means it was accidentally over-written. Strange, how except for the file names, there are still no algorithms in place to prevent that. So you may get repeats as I try to reconstruct this from memory. I drove up to Orlando to look at some equipment and see they finally have finished paving I-4, or at least the southern part of it. As usual, the GPS proved unreliable because it kept telling me to make left turns where no exit existed. Also, although the claimed accuracy is ten feet, it has real trouble with entire streets that are a few hundred feet apart.

           On the return leg, I stopped at the only bookstore near hear. That’s in Davenport, one of those Florida “towns” that exists miles away from the actual location thanks to the local penchant for building the freeways through uninhabited stretches. Then stopping abruptly. I bought a book on HTML coding and its follow-on “fixes” to see that nothing much has changed. The whole Internet scripting thing remains the disaster it started out as. If you wonder why most pages look alike, there’s your reason.
           Here’s a photo of JZ biking along in Key Largo back in 2008. I found a disk of two months unposted blogs. Mostly January of 2008, I think. I had a filing system back then that went by the week, not the month. Google still won’t let me post from home, since the phone modem I use is mobile. They haven’t perfected tracking it yet.

           Having fixed the car radio, I finally finished listening to “Show No Fear” and it is a dud. Zero courtroom drama, and the plot kept getting wider, but not deeper. By Chapter 50, she had to start wrapping this thing up. But left dozens of questions dangling. Like what happened to Dr. Wu, the fake acupuncturist? And the estate of her murdered ex-husband once the DNA showed he was not the father? And most people know for an addict out of detox, staying clean for three months doesn’t count. I would say this audio book was just another string of “single mothers are people too” stabs. Is there an adjective for this sort of literature?
           A word that describes the situation where the real intent of the author is to shove it down our throats that the single mother is the highest for of pure parenthood. This story is a dig at women who get educated, stay on course with a career, and sleep with men for recreation. In the end, guess who the murderess is? Remi, the lady lawyer from Boston who’s built like a model and has everything our lady doesn’t. She gets all the men and is headed for a judgeship at age 27. By chapter 40, you just know some single mother is going to teach this bitch a lesson. Sure enough, our Nancy, at 29, is now completing her law degree at night school because she is going to champion the law for the poor people. Somebody hand that woman a medal.

Picture of the day.

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           We have an anniversary coincidence with today’s date. It seems another set of links are botched, but I cannot explain why that would happen on this day. It’s not planned, or subconscious, or even subliminal since I am rarely aware of the problem until a year later. Further testing with my DVD movies show that it was a series of bad discs, not my player (which is still on the suspect list). That’s explainable, because I often buy a batch of movies at the Thrift. Shame on people who donate defective disks. They do it for a tax deduction, another incentive that needs to be destroyed, Mr. Trump. It’s enough already that charities get a tax break. No need to extend that to donations when it results in this type of behavior. You can’t say buyer beware when it comes to things like digital.

           I didn’t get work done, but I pinpointed the problem areas that need fixing before I put down that new bathroom floor. I appear to have bungled an expensive plumbing joint, but I shall try to fix it before cutting the whole assembly out. The squirrels like my chicken coop more than the hens, and I’ve been advised to refer to it as the henhouse. Okay by me.

           The picture is my lookout, the guard chicken. Matilda. She’s the smart one. The next time we catch her, it is into the coop for three days. They have to learn the hard way how to associate the coop with being home. I think I’ll head to the library for a few hours to read up on chicken farming. There must be some easy way to catch them, even if it is the box on the stick. And for siesta, I watched the old Steve Martin disc, “All Of Me”. The one with the dynamite English blonde, a declining species unless Nigel Farange becomes Prime Minister. My favorite line from the movie, “If I can be of any help, you’re in worse trouble than you thought.”
           In conclusion, I believe there are four cities in the USA whose road system is so bad they have posted warnings not to try using GPS. It is no surprise three of those cities are in Florida. And with the sorry excuse for engineers churned out by our for-profit post-secondaries, that is not going to change soon. Some may say there is salvation in that somebody will design a robot to pave the roads. Don’t hold your breath. Imagine politically-correct left-wing roads, with built-in deniability. When you don’t like them because they don’t go anywhere, why you are an asphalt-aphobic.

Last Laugh

January 24, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 24, 2019, car eats tape measures.
Five years ago today: January 24, 2015, Patton who?
Nine years ago today: January 24, 2011, today, I soldered.
Random years ago today: January 24, 2004, un-openable packaging.

           This is a Florida sunset as I test the “dark” feature of my camera. I don’t like it. The pictures either come out darker than it actually is, or unnaturally brighter. Still here is a gif I call Venus & Fire. The sky isn’t really that purplish-blue. It was a rare cloudless Florida day, which I used to get some of the yard work caught up. That spot that grew the natural collard greens now has a row of carrots and two of radishes. The carrots are ready in 68 days, the radishes a lot sooner. The hillbilly and I tried to get the chickens to coop by themselves. No dice. So, we do it the hard way, but it’s for their own good. He’s also seen that fox again. But move fast, the word is another cold spell is moving in.

           So,how goes the trailer scam? I found half the territory blanketed with ads for that same trailer, but with different pictures, some of the flipped horizontally. I learned that people can be banned from CL (Craigslist) but you cannot find out who. However, your first clue is they list their contact information on an uploaded picture instead of the regular contact fields, and that was the case here. It’s got to be a scam because anybody who falls for it figures to buy it and flip it for quadruple the price. I’ll watch the ad. My next discovery is that on my CoolPad Surf, the Internet connection is separate from the log-on feature. If you want to view such things as gigabytes remaining or other stats, you must activate the account which involves giving them a lot of information.
           Instead, I read the manual carefully. It is intentionally confusing, making you think you must have an account. But the device has a series of signals that give you the same information. For instance, when you have used half your data allocation, the data light changes from green to yellow. If you are near out, it changes to red. I take it most people don’t read the instructions. I looked at the “required fields” on the log-in page and those bastards can go tap dance in a minefield. The modem itself is well-designed and is very conservative with power and data when in idle mode. I found you can plug it in and just leave it. Unplugged, it lasts around five hours.

Picture of the day.
Police bagpipe band.
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           This is my washing machine and I just broke it. I threw in the usual load, but it was work clothes from the back yard, with that jet black dirt. It clogged the drainage pump, which could be a difficult fix. Anyway, here, take a look at this puppy in action. It’s a Della, you can buy them at Wal*Mart, I picked this one up brand new for around $40 from this guy who wanted to see me his PA system, but I already own three. I almost bought his roto-tiller, too. And that guitar player from Craigslist responded, finally. He sent me his song list and we are an instant band—if he decides to follow through. He apparently sings, but I usually take that to mean barely until shown otherwise. If he can sing twenty songs, that’s more than enough for use to strike out after a single rehearsal.

           I connected up the dryer circuit. I know, it took forever to get around to it. Part of it is the location makes it difficult to install a big enough electrical box to stuff those 240V wires back in. Ah, tomorrow I’ll invest in one of those waterproof outdoor boxes just to get it out of the way. I’ve basically done without that dryer for some six months. Actually only three, because of all the time I was out of town. Now here’s something different. I found working with the cedar fence pickets quite easy. My new bathroom has some new fixtures, but does not even pretend to be some ultra-modern renovation. The closet (toilet) sets in an enclave of its own and I got to thinking.
What if I paneled that area in so it looks like the interior of an old outhouse. It would be easy to do with the new table saw and make it one of a kind in most ways. I’ve got another few days of that plumbing to run in. True, that is taking forever, but remember I had most of it done before making two major changes. One was to relocate the entire laundry facilities. The other was decided to move the entire kitchen to the opposite wall rather then even trying to update that iron piping.

           The proliferation of devices [around here] means I may have to get some sort of better recharging system. Including the Bluetooth™ keyboard and my portable battery, I now require 12 ports. The way I operate, most of them need recharging overnight, that is, at the same time. When I ran out today, I got stuck watching another documentary on the Boer War, this time from the viewpoint of English correspondents who thought the war was wrong, a waste of money, and politically motivated reporters like Winston Churchill were liars. I learned that until the Falklands, the Boer war was the largest battle fought in the southern hemisphere.
           There was a tendency to compare British military conduct to the last big engagement, which had been the siege at Sevastopol. Against the Boer, who they often outnumbered seven to one, the English were losing more men per week than they had in their entire colonial wars. It was a good thing that the Boers were unfamiliar with their brand new artillery and often didn’t set the fuses right. The biggest mistake of the English commanders was regarding the Boer as just more African tribes to be mowed down in senseless human wave attacks. The British also had a strange tendency to try to recapture artillery pieces lost to the enemy. The problem with that funny idea was that target shooting was the Boer national sport.

           Ah, who warned the world against HP printers so long ago? It seems they’ve carried their printer ink scam to the next level. The first thing I ever criticized them for was raising the price of cartridges to over $20, now closer to $30. This means they make a million dollars off each barrel (55 gal) of ink. Now, they have this ink subscription service. You pay a fixed amount for ink depending on your usage. There’s your first flag, allowing shifty people like HP to monitor your doings. Anyway, it seems that the idea is when they determine you need more ink, they send you a new cartridge. The problem is, if you discontinue to monthly plan, your printer won’t work, even if there is still ink in the existing cartridge.
           This is the inherent scam that began with computers and has become commonplace through millennial complacency. Why millennial? Because neither myself or anybody I know would pay full retail price for things we don’t own. These days you can’t turn around without hearing of some blantant rip-off in this category. I didn’t follow it, but some stereo company sold out and all their speakers quit working. I have enough problems with things quitting on me without signing up for the plan. Today my relatively new DVD player quit reading. The laser gets misaligned. I know because I isolated the problem very quickly like only an old telephone.hand can.
           Once again, my disgust is not with the laser heads getting misaligned, but the fact that they even still make decks that can. All disk readers should easily be self-adjusting by now. It is truly appalling how little the “greatest generation” has accomplished.

Last Laugh

January 23, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: January 23, 2019, a crew of 175.
Five years ago today: January 23, 2015, oops, wrong war!
Nine years ago today: January 23, 2011, Coleman ain’t talking.
Random years ago today: January 23, 2010, $250,000 in 30 seconds.

           I met the deadline, the coop is ready to coop. This is a bale of wood shavings, the nesting boxes have a good deep layer. This is complete luxury for the hens, who up to now kind of live on the back of a bench on the neighbor’s porch, rain or shine. I was able to pick up the white hen, but she remains skittish. I’ll try to get the owner to put them inside, but if not I’ll lay a trailer of birdseed into the interior tomorrow and see how that fares. Once the sun got up, it was a balmy day so I finished the ramp and the lid on the nest box.

           Finally, I found my spare flip-phone. I knew darn well I bought them in pairs but my last unit just disappeared. Last year when I began working on the new bathroom interior, I threw a box of things I don’t use much into a bin and shelved it. Today I was looking for some special clips for the shed and lo, there it was. Brand new, a one-touch. This may be the last one I’ll own, since I cannot find them anywhere at a reasonable price ($30). I’ve even got people out of the country looking for any that might still be for sale.

           Sadly, the concert next week may not be a go. That’s the long awaited outing in Punta Gorda, but Alaine isn’t feeling up to it. There’s still a chance. Here’s me talking, the guy who rarely gives himself enough time to recover completely, now advising others not to rush. By my standards, I am taking things a lot easier. Like that chicken coop. Should have taken two days, not five. And I still want to do some fancy trimming work for the experience. It is a permanent, hurricane-resistant structure that requires two men to move it. That was fun leveling it by myself.
           Look there, it’s the picture window. This was from an old china cabinet or similar, if you look through it, you can see the nesting boxes inside on the left because the lid is open. Note the fancy edging along the top. The roost is in place and all is ready for occupancy. Mike, from out west, upon learning the hens are both good layers, says that brings a whole new meaning to B&B. Which reminds me, the paperwork from back west. I sent him instructions to take care of and send me the bill. If the camper had been legit, I would have considered a leisurely trip this summer. But I found many of the pictures the seller e-mailed were stock photos from the company web page. There also appeared a few numbers near the bottom of the ad, which appear as random typos, but my spider sense tells me there ia a problem.

           Now, all of these could have valid alternative explanations. If so, at least some of them should have been forthcoming. I’m still watching the Loch Ness DVD. It’s a complete fabrication to get tourist dollars into an otherwise barren set of Scottish wasteland where even trees don’t like to grow. What’s neat is the production crew are all Germans, but they speak excellent English. Their choice of words reveals many of the fundamental flaws with English as they try to express exact meanings. English won’t let them, since most things can be taken many ways.
           Mind you, English is still a far more expressive language than say, French or Spanish. Except for German, English cannot be beat for conveying exact technical terms. It’s the non-tech part where English becomes daunting, but most native speakers never give that a second thought.

Picture of the day.
A hot day in Australia.
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           Here’s the coop with the ramp attached. It seems steep, but there are two ways to consider that. One is that it can easily be made shallower. The other is that it is a convenience. The chickens are easily able to fly in and out the window. As depicted, the coop is buttoned up to test for drafts. It is not completely watertight. Most Florida rain falls straight down, but it can turn 90 degrees in a good windstorm. Did I say, the roof is hurricane-strapped. From this angle, the coop looks a bit like the cabana I used to rent out on the Thai west coast. Back when it was Thailand.
When I see that slanted roof, I keep remembering I’ve got those unused solar panels from the camper that quit on me in

           Oregon back in ’18. I still have an extra controller, so come up with an idea of how we can slap together Florida’s first solar-powered Arduino smart chicken coop. Now, this is a situation for IoT. I have lots of fans and relays, but let’s see if we can get a bit more creative. This is only brainstorming so anything goes. I’ve already thought cooling the interior with solar conduction, but don’t know how feasible it would be.

           I’ll remind you how that works. A set of PVC pipes gets buried in the cool ground on the shady side, with an inlet above ground. Then an outlet pipe juts into the interior. A separate set of pipes, painted black, lies on the roof or south side. As the sun heats the pipe, the air inside rises, creating a vacuum inside, which in turn draws the cooled air from the underground pipes into the structure. I’m thinking of this less as a chicken coop and more as an experimental station as the days pass. But I still need to get my bathroom finished. That surprise visit back to Tennessee at Xmas kind of threw my year off balance already. And that rhythm player didn’t return by call. I wonder if it was that whacko Puerto Rican guy who never practiced.
           What’s this, the Democrat party is blaming Facebook for Trump’s 2016 victory, saying it spread disinformation. Yep, those Democrat donkeys are still in stunned disbelief that anybody could have voted for an outsider. Now, they are vowing to break up the tech biggies. I’m all for it, but not for the same reasons. I want a more level playing field so startups with products that work stand a chance against the junk the eFAGs have been foisting on us for decades.

           Here’s the poinsettias, just turning red now. Don’t they know Xmas has come and gone? These bushes are getting too big. I took the plant to be a shrub. All shoots I’ve taken from these two have failed. I’ve read this species is difficult to propagate. They also have to be dusted often, being susceptible to all kinds of little worms and bugs. Shown here are the healthiest parts after trimming, watering, and some grooming. Hope you like.
           And how about that change in Google search results. Except for an almost invisible icon, advertisements will now masquerade as search results. Up yours Google. Same to Microsoft who just lost 250 million customer records, instead focusing their energies on getting their “updates” to switch Office 365 users to Bing, their dog of a search engine. I have successfully avoided all MS updates, but it’s been tricky. Also, I took one look at Office 365, where your files are kept by Microsoft. That’s called artificial stupidity.
           While I’m bitchin’, I don’t like the federal broadband fund. This is the cash handed to the states so people living halfway to nowhere can get their on-line porno. While I agree a tiny fraction of Internet service does serve for job-hunting and fact-finding, I should not be paying taxes so some New York loser can get on-line 24/7. The only thing paying other people’s Internet bill equalizes is the already clone-like mind-set of liberals. My logic is the same as other rural services—these people already save enough money not paying city prices that they can pony up extra for (here’s a term I coined) luxxuries. When luxxury is spelled with two x’s, that’s my sign I consider it taxpayer rip-off for the comfort of an undeserving minority. You want Internet, you pay for it or drive to the library like I had to for years. And if you live too far from a library to do that, well, that says even more.

           Numbers from the 2019 budget are down to a trickle as I look for where things went wrong, I believe this is called management by exception. As long as things go along, leave them, but focus on where they do not. Fact is, I averaged $440 over budget every month last year. This is not cause for alarm, because not every item is budgeted. What is means is I had to dip into funds that, while not allocated for anything in particular, should still have been available for things like investments, fun, or travel. That’s still a grey area, because most of the extra cost is attributable to the car, which I did use for a lot of travel, which resulted in more repairs, and so on.
           The up side of Tennessee is that I now know I can leave my place vacant without worries. My schedule is finally my own. One thing I hated about paying rent is you had to keep paying it while on holidays. For that matter, I always hated it because it cut short my travels when I was younger. But not as much as having a mortgage, mind you. That must really suck. I spend a lot on coffee, around $84 per month, because of being on the road so much. The real killer was gasoline. My budget of $66 per month is history. The car requires three times that. I’ll have the scoot on the road within the week. Temperatures are returning to normal tomorrow, that car can sit except for road trips. Let’s see, when am I next due in Miami?

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