December 22, 2012

Yesteryear One year ago today: December 22, 2019, trip log.
Five years ago today: December 22, 2015, Hungryland Slough.
Nine years ago today: December 22, 2011, (877) 504-8423.
Random years ago today: December 23, 2010, 70.008 miles per gallon
           TMOR, slough is an Old English word rhymes with ‘clue’, ‘flew’, and ‘who’. It means a small pond of slow-flowing water. It was a travel day and no real places to stop and enjoy the ride. The COVID shakedown, no openly revealed to be a scam, a political power grab, has not only shut down 70% of some businesses (such as those nasty “cash-flow” small restaurants), but the first staff to get laid off the GPS places are the top-knot bunch who do th updates. I meant to leave town at noon, which became 2:00PM, the finally hit the road at 4:31PM.

           Today’s photos are of work on the cabin, just here for looks. Clamping the window frame is easy when you have enough clamps. And there is the plate, quite visible. It does the job.

           4:31PM to avoid driving through downtown, I took the south highway over to the west end. What a surprise, this traffic is nothing. I was out in the north end within a half hour and on the open road, this time determined to find that link between route 471 and I-75. There is a kershmozzle of small towns that, in Florida fashion, have no direct roads to get anywhere.

           5:31PM I found a route get east-to-west, you go through the small town of Bushnell. The route is not marked, but it does cross my traditional return route numbered 301. I’ve already reached the radio dead zone, even the Tampa stations with their million-watt transmitters do not make it even 60 miles. But I did get some NPR propganda. Mr. Trump, stop sending these stations my tax money.

           6:31PM It’s approaching dark, my plan was to get to Valdosta with minimal travell after sunset. But it is a cloudless sky and the twilight is lengthy. I’m on I-75 now, making over 70 mph and listening to an audio tape, “The Street Lawyer”. Um, I think I may have read the book. Then I think no because there are parts I know are new to me. It is a glorious sunset, I’ve decided to carry on after dark.
Picture of the day.
Homemade wooden yarn bowl.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           7:31PM Stopped for gas in Valdosta, looked around the town but could not find the bank on my GPS. Turns out the branch was closed last year, affording me an opportunity to tour the greatest parts of the old downtown after dark. With locals in high-axle picks tailgating me the whole time. It’s the Xmas spirit of closeness that shows through to strangers in Florida. By now it is pitch black, but so little traffic, I’ve decided to head toward Macon until I get tired.

           8:31PM Still driving, now listened to the audio tape out of semi-laughter dropping at moments to disgust. What? That’s right, I’ll fill you in. The tape was made many years ago before the current degeneration of the Democrat political party. There was a time they did good works, and this tape makes referral to it in some curious ways. Where it fails is after the plot settles down after some homeless deaths, it goes on to offer excuses for poor people.

           I’ll say it again, poverty and hunger, in any traditional sense or definition does not and has never exhisted in America. Famine and gut-stretching poverty have never happened here, the worst that can be claimed are extended hard times, like the Great Depression. Even during that, new car models appeared annually and the movie industry boomed. So it irks me to hear that if somebody dropped out of school and became a prosititute, it is somehow my fault, that I did not “do enough” or pay enough taxes, or make enough donations.
           It’s the old question, if we are put in this world to help others, what are others put here for? This is a longer entry, but I want something off my chest. The prevailing theories of why people are poor are all bogus because they address it as if the poor are not to blame. Nonsense, so I            propose another theory just as valid as most. It is not that poor people think differently, which is generally so, but that they don’t “like” the way the non-poor think. Don’t write this off, think about it. I know many poor people who don’t like me because I plan ahead. If I would just quit doing that, they'd have better chances. ITwisted, yep, but in their own way, it's true.

           9:31PM -10:30PM Hello, Perry Georgia. The primary draw of this town is a huge Wal*mart parking lot where overnighting is plainly welcome. Great, except the store was cllosed. So I thought to find a spot for a nightcap. All the GPS non-franchised honkytonks are plainly shuttered up. After a few miles scouting, I said to heck, and crashed. This is why the entry spans two hours. I stopped for gas, then stopped of a sandwich, then called ahead.
Despite this being a warm winter night, it got cold enough to bite through my three layers of sleeping gear. I’m just no longer used to cold, I was warm but you could tell it was freezing, enough to make me less than comfortable. Then, no place to head for a little Xmas cheer? Goodby, Perry

Last Laugh