One year ago today: July 17, 2018, all except Merv, ha!
Five years ago today: July 17, 2014, meetup at Panera.
Nine years ago today: July 17, 2010, NASA is a symptom.
Random years ago today: July 17, 2010, I rejected blog pdf.
Fun in the sun, I’ve decided to completely rip up the roof and start over. The rafters have already been moved once, so three is a charm. What alerted me was when I finally got up on the roof and looked down, the angles were not parallel to the neighbor’s shed. It’s way off in the corner of the yard where nobody will ever see. Thinking it over, it is only 100 or so wood screws, though some are mighty inconvenient to get at now.
It didn’t take long for the cardinals to find the new feeder, but they can’t figure out how to get inside the cage. Do I dare make the entry bigger? It’s only slightly lower than squirrel size right now. The planter in the back needs protection. Some critter is after the avocado plants, but can’t break through the husk. So, wire screening it is, this I know how to do. It’s a turtle cage all over again. The animal also digs into the dirt at the corners of the box, for what I don’t know. This view shows the wiring in place, it isn’t attached yet. I have to make a removable frame, using up the last of my furring strips. Which are always in short supply.
That’s the wiring that was intended for the chicken coop. Now overgrown with kudzu, that is a very low priority. Agt. R obviously found homes for the chickens. He probably thinks I’m angry over the scooter. I am, but at myself. I should know better than to rely on anybody for anything.
I guess that’s what they mean by biennial, which I probably took to mean twice a year mistaking if for semi-annual. Trivia. Carrots are biennials. But since we eat the roots, nobody cares if they bear flowers the following year. Still, what kind of flower gets popular if it blooms so far in the future?
An unconfirmed report y'day says three men were shot and beaten to death just east of here, in Frostproof. One called his father and said, "Help!". More as I hear it. Moments later, it is true, three dead.
$16 of walnut heartwood.
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It was a reflective afternoon with music, you might like this. For siesta, I threw on a disc titled “Mr. Holland’s Opus”, with Richard Dreyfus in one of his less stellar roles. The setting got my interest because of the portrayal of teenagers taking a music class, a situation I can, what’s the term, “non-identify” with. I can only wonder what turn my life would have taken having such resources. Imagine, having so many singers you could audition them and pick the best one. Ha, Richard, how about you scrounge around for anybody you can for a year and wind up having to settle for people you find otherwise reprehensible? How about you take and train every musician from scratch? Trust me, it is much different than strolling into an auditorium full of ready-made kids fully equipped with tubas and drums.
Sure, it is a tough job to motivate them. I agree, but how would you have fared if that was just 10% of the chore. What if you had to find instruments, build the practice shack, and get the effort going from a cold, standing start? Such people have no comprehension of the extent of their free head start, there was a familiar developmental pattern that kept me watching the movie. I found the portrayal of so many teens into classical composers to be corny and hilarious.
However, there is a scene where he argues with the school board over cancellation of the music program. He makes a valid point, that music appreciation is just as important as the athletic program. The concept is simple. Let’s imagine an experiment, two classrooms of students. Teach one room only the three R’s that school boards take so much stock in. The other room, make room for teaching music. Which group is going to use what they’ve learned? You know my opinion.
I can do the math, read the books, and some say I know how to write. Now put this in perspective. I write at least a half hour every day, remind me to mail this weeks letters. But I play music at least three times that. The impact of music would be difficult to measure both on a daily basis and long-term. And while I would likely find the company of others a hindrance while reading or writing, I would glom on to any band that comes along. Music remains the most social thing I do. I have never cared for any other form of mingling and I’ve tried them all. I’m okay with dancing.
My mistake, I planted radishes and not beets. Some farm boy I am. I got the packages mixed up.
Later in the afternoon, I drove to the Broken Rudder to see who was playing. They hire local, but this was different. As the only place open on the east side of the lake (they have a food license), the place has been packed night after night, to them the ‘rona virus is a godsend. I had to park a block away but heard the band. As I walked over, I thought, I know this piece of music, I mean not only the tune, but the presentation. When I got in the door, boom, two smooth tighties on stage and no way they are from around here. Two slim babes in cutoffs, playing guitar and banjo, and singing fairly decent harmonies. You see, the house decided to try an expensive band while the going was good.
Let’s be candid for a moment. When I saw them in Nashville, my impression is that they were a new act, nice but woefully unpolished. Lots of amateur errors, poor balances, bad equipment settings, kind of what you expect in newbies. The music was just not tight enough, but never underestimate the added value of all that pink leg and them blonde pony tails. The married men in the crowd were howling that it was like a free concert. I stuck around for an extra brew and they played exactly like they did a year ago. This is, methinks, the finished product. Are they good enough to make it? Probably. If they move fast. I chatted with the prettiest one, they are based in Orlando. That’s over 50 miles away, is business that slow? The older lady blocked before I could find out.
ADDENDUM
Mark Felton in the blog again. I understand his point of view, I never said he was wrong. Only that his research is based on second-hand redacted and censored pro-Allied sources. His posts contain interesting and novel facts about weapons and tactics. The same cannot be said about his grasp of the deeper aspects of war as have been glossed over by the media. It’s not just Felton, most WWII historians have this same shortcoming—they believe the Hollywood version of things. Tell you what, find any documentary on the invasion of Poland in 1939. You’ll get the same material no matter which documentary you choose. The “Nazis” struck with lightning speed and overwhelming force and smashed the Poles who tried to use cavalry, blah, blah.
But stop for a second and back up. Germany had tanks, but tanks are very expensive. Germany had oil, but it was scarce. The Great War was still remembered with horror. Now look at Poland. A dodo country, minimal resources or factories, with a backward agrarian economy and a largely illiterate population. All these degreed historians omit the most pressing question. Why on Earth would Germany, just getting back on its feet, gamble its tanks, burn up precious gas, chance a major war, and put its soldiers lives at risk over such a nothing backwater like Poland?
I, for one, am not buying the nonsense that Germany had nothing better to do. They were well aware if a war started, “neutral” Belgium would allow Allied forces to move territory--and Germany could not be sure if that would happen. So what was the motive? Even if Germans were a “war-like people”, they probably would still not bother with Poland. The motive wasn’t conquest, it’s doubtful Germany ever got her money back. There’s something these historians are not telling us. They are just parroting the party line, and that means they are not doing their jobs. And that is why I can’t rate Felton as anything but the next pro-you-know-who hack.
