One year ago today: January 6, 2020, Monty never showed..
Five years ago today: January 6, 2016, fake brown sugar.
Nine years ago today: January 6, 2012, it says, “Do Not Install.”
Random years ago today: January 6, 2014, DOS spoken here.
We awake to news that Joe Biden has been inaugurated, but it is only 6:45AM. Aren’t they supposed to wait until after the votes are counted? Not that it’s ever stopped them before, but the more reliable news is these live feeds of DC, where real people are delivering a message to Congress because the fake media won’t. Biden has, prudently, canceled his inauguration parade. And on my new chronometer, it is 2021:01:06-02:10.48 GMT. Later today I’ll see if I can graph the setting sun for you late y’day afteroon. Somehow, my nifty South African sextant has gotten dusty inside a sealed storage case.
It’s two in the afternoon in England. I look forward to doing some GP calculations again. It’s a skill that rusts quickly. It’s a basic for navigation, since one major step is to figure how many nautical miles you are from that position. Once your brain kick-starts this step, you are well on your way, at least to passing your eighth grade trigonometry exams again. I do it by imagining the Sun to be atop a very tall flag pole with its base at the GP.
Later, the readings are wrong. Something has gone wonky, I was in some cases 10 minutes out in the wrong direction. I took extra time to plot the points on a graph, but of nearly 30 reaings, no more than 4 or 5 consistent. But, the amount each batch is out seems a tad consistent. I hope it is not my beautiful sextant. It has not been knocked around. I have noticed it will sometime lock between degree markings, so I was extra vigilant that did not happen today. Even if it was not this day and age, good luck finding anybody who can calibrate a sextant in the state of Tennessee.
Crossbow trigger mechanism.
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Beat Buddy, yeah the guy semi-used another of my ideas, but his variation is better. I wanted the machine to uploa batches of 200 songs categorized by music type (I dislike the word ‘genre’.) He’s packaged then that way in one sense, but categorized by artist. That strange guitar-think mentality where you chose music by who played it instead of whether you like the tune. I downloaded the manual, (32 pages)and suggest the best reviews are Sweetwater, but they are contaminated with dozens of show-offs instead of useful information about the product. I pored over as much tech material as I could find and I’ve decided to make the investment.
There seems no way to really test the pedal without buying it. Even the best of the demos focus on what’s nifty instead of how the thing works out on stage, where you don’t really care if there are 200 different drum kits built in. Questions like the pause switch. When you unpause, does it start where it left off, or at the beginning of a new measure, and is this adjustable? Can the song list they refer to be customized by song title, if so how easy is this to do? No information and the reviews are written by the duh-yup gang.
Wanting to avoid driving in Nashville, I searched for music stores on the outskirts. Sweetwater hired jackasses to code theie website, there is display of their locations. Duh. (HoursGuide is useless as they don’t show addresses.) I know I saw a Sam Ash in Madison last year, but that’s not exactly just up the road.
There are downloadable drum tracks. If you think some of the music on my list is ancient, take a look at their offerings. Somehow, you just know these people have never played in a band and never will. There is also a forum that lists settings which will probably be more useful in the end.
ADDENDUM
When I was 17 I had this gorgeous girlfriend from Newfoundland, up in Canada. What an accent. She was from a town called Cornerbrook. Bev Gillingham. I’ve never been in eastern Canada and generally have no reason to change that. Today I threw on a DVD titled “The Grand Seduction”, turns out to be a tale from that island. It joined Canada in 1967 or something, but I recognize that accent. Some fishing village sets out to woo a doctor to live there because some factory will build there on that condition. They set out to make him think it is the town of his dreams.
The humor is very subdued. They can’t fix up the first house he’ll see, so they put up a sign saying “World Heritage House”. And you’ll love the fake cricket uniforms. Of course there is one babe in town, she’s single, and doesn’t take to the guy. Sure, but she ain’t fooling me, of course, skinny women in small towns never do. But I’m resolved to be nice about it. Even if she isn’t blonde.
And the big cat, Chloe, has developed a rale.
