One year ago today: March 25, 2019, rhymes with “Schiff”.
Five years ago today: March 25, 2015, finally, a use for anise.
Nine years ago today: March 25, 011, five had backing tracks.
Random years ago today: March 25, 2001, the Act avoids formulas.
I’ll have said it nearby, but Google screwed me again. You know this when there is a lapse in postings, the clue is if I don’t miss a day in 10-15 years and then five days in a row. I had one hell of a time and still failed to get past the pinheads at Google or get on-line at Dunkin Donuts. The connection is that when I travel, many of the posts get here because they’ll accept my log-on via Dunkin. But not now. TMOR, let me explain something about contemporary America.
Using the GPS, I attempted to find Dunkin locations open during the virus scare. I’m wording this conveniently for me, so expect sarcasm. This will also typify why an America run by millennials cannot thrive. Take this example. Many businesses pay a fee to display addresses (on GPS) when they open a location..
I know Miami. There is no Dunkin Donuts at 2800 S Lejeune Road, but I drove there anyway killing time (I may explain later.) There is no Dunkin Donuts on Bird Road and 79th. And so on. It is not only irreponsible but introduces that gradual distrust of the system that causes The consequences may take a long time to appear.
Here’s a photo you haven’t seen unless you hang out in semi-abandoned nursuries out in the Redlands. It’s wagon food kitchen for the field workers and you won’t get served if you speakee English. Cubans are the most bigotted and racist of the Latin Americans. On their scale, Mexicans are the lowest. Hmmm, they may have a point. This is the bell you are supposed to ring if you like the food. I was able to get a café con leche. JZ can lift the 120 pound plant buckets, I’m not risking any such thing. I’ll be in the shade sipping coffee, thank you.
I’ve got the prep work done for my newest venture, which includes an on-line tutorial. I logged in to take a look at it. Total crap. There is a mismatch between the directions that make it obvious whoever wrote them had never seen the video being described. The usual millennial stuff, titles that don’t match, instructions to click on non-existent buttons, and gobbly-gook jargon. Tech-talk has morphed since I was a teen. In my day it was used to communicate contemporary innovation with terms that had to be new because things were new. The older generations really did not know what bytes, hard drives, and do-loops were. Now, it is now used to cover lack of real knowledge.
Personally, I find it hilarious when two of these noise-talkers are assigned to work with each other. Both have to pretend they have a clue what the other is talking about. This brings the NOVA robot society to mind again. That was my first real brush with the people who’s attitude was crank the code out as fast as possible and debug it later. But this was Arduino code, to which I applied the programming skills as learned in my teens. What’s the difference other than them being first and me being last? Easy, my code worked first time most of the time and theirs never did ever get working quite right. The Mars missions will, sadly, be flown with code that is
”good enough”.
French solar furnace.
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There’s been a change of plans. Stepping out of my doctor’s office, I rapped on the door of my opthamologist to see if he was open. Yep, and they have a cancellation at noon tomorrow, so I’m sticking around. One day saves me potential extra trip later so here I am. This had me driving around my old stomping grounds. The city announced its plan to make the place as expensive as possible to live in around twenty years ago. What’s left is their failures. The cheer up, here are some bunny rabbits. If the picture is moving, I’m back home. These are at the tree nursery and if the cage seems a bit small, they are certainly well-fed.
My guess would be that activity has moved west along the boulevard. The city finally banned the trains from blasting the horn at the level crossing by the “instant tenements”. By default the two or three fast food places out near our former shop have become the only economical places to grab a bite and a few design and law offices have appeared. The casinos have not brought the promised affluence to the neighborhood
Have you ever noticed there ain’t no fat bastards on Star Trek? I’m just sayin’. JZ is a garden-variety trekky. To me, the series represents an ideal, because the plots, shallow as they may be, focus on a problem that needs solving. Not the contrived drama of the fatties, bozos, losers, wimps, snowflakes, libtards, and the sexually confused who got on board by affirmative action.
And I sat through a Roy Orbison record-fest and he ain’t no Elvis Presley. How can you tell I’m getting bored in Miami? Is it that obvious? Turns out JZ was eating tomatoes for free at the nursery. He didn’t pay for them, I mean. Yes, we’ve been drinking beer in the hot sun and would like to point out my pal says, the sign reads “U-Pik-it” and not “U-Pay-for-it”. Is he really going to put some Karen Carpenter on that turntable? Yes, I said turntable? This is the era you step into when you visit here. JZ has never heard of an MP3. And he makes no distinction between hit songs and the filler that makes up the balance of most albums.
