One year ago today: February 8, 2020, fence, chicken coop.
Five years ago today: February 8, 2016, what’s this ‘desert wine’.
Nine years ago today: February 8, 2012, WIP
Random years ago today: February 8, 2015, drop by anytime.
Wednesday. That’s the soonest I can get my tooth looked at. People ask why I didn’t make an emergency appointment. That is an emergency, people. Most dentists no longer accept any walk-ins, a sure indicator of insurance fraud. The first several places would not listen to my needs or answer questions until I filled out their 8-page questionnaires. There’s your proof your identity has become valuable enough for them to insist. Nor would they tell me any prices without having my life history on file.
One the way back, I found this barber shop that turned out like a practical museum. Here’s a pair of mechanical clippers, a model still used in many place due to lack of electricity. They had an amazing display of straight razors, most nearly 100 years old, but no Civil War era. No ivory handles, but a lot of bone, shell, and alabaster. Cheaper than the franchises, too.
Another treat was this automated car wash. The video lady talks you through the steps, and other than a couple attendants who swab your wheels, it’s an automatic process. And the plain wash is just $5 bucks. Since my tooth prevented breakfast, on the way back I stopped at a fast food joint, where this old guy working there noticed my notebook. He was so starved for intellectual conversation, we talked for a half-hour. He’s got a damn good education which gives you some idea of how this lockdown.
I was up early enough to run through the song list, but just as quickly, my arm gave out. My choice is still pain or missing notes, but now a third option is fatigue. I get plenty of active use on the arm and therapy seems designed to press those any limits. My entire arm, not just the shoulder, can how rapidly go limp-tired for twenty minutes minimum, and today around an hour already. This is new and unacceptable, time to write to my attorney. It would be different if the time, effort, and pain was effecting a cure. And I double dare the other guy’s insurance to get into whether or not a dropped everything and started treatment to some standard acceptable to them.
Rare microscope.
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That was Agt. M on the phone, we have a club meeting scheduled for next week in Hollywood, FL. Around noon, he is not musical but his kid certainly will be. He’d like nothing better than to move out here but now with the wife, she’s got roots in the area. He’s just now able to get away for coffee. A lot of people don’t drink coffee unless I’m around, but anyway the coffee is always free. First topic on the agenda is the old club welder. It is in perfect condition and in the new digs he has not place he can use it. I have a spot I can rig it up. Chances are it will be here by end of next week. There must be a way to get him and the family up here for a week, or he’s never leave Miami area.
Musically, I’ve decided to speed-learn around five of the newer tunes. They have repetitive enough patterns that I’ll just fake my way through to find out how often these are actually played before I knock myself out. I’ve always found Suzie Q so boring that today in the van was the first time I listened to the whole tune, fighting to stay focused as it dragged on. It’s another of the 1960 drug songs that was supposed to accompany a good hippie stone.
Here’s a treat for you. This is the tire shop that put the new rubber on the front of my mini-van. It’s a sample of the old American way, before we had the welfare state and people worked for a living. I paid $100 for the tires, and from taking the old tires off the rims and the new installs, partially shown here, was a total of 8 minutes. Two men, two tire jacks, two machines, two air wrenches. And that is how money was once made in America. You worked hard, you worked fast, you worked smart. Nowadays, they vote themselves free bread and circuses.
Oooo, have you see the damning evidence on election fraud that got the pillow guy censored by big media? We still don’t know what eFAG (this blog’s label for eBay, Facebook, Amazon, Google, etc) was promised for their “cooperation” but it must be an immense reward for them to behave as national censors—because if anything goes wrong, they are wiped out. I’d never heard of the pillow guy, but now he appears a force to contend with. And it is people like him the Bidenistas have to silence.
And for the record, it was four months ago that we referred to the fact more people identified themselves as Trump supporters than as Republicans. The media seems to just now have caught up with this fact. What’s happening is the second impeachment is making Trump even more popular, throwing the entire Democrat plan into disarray. Rasmussen, one of the more effective polls now that they’ve cleaned up their act, shows a fifth of all Democrats now think the election was stolen. Hmmmm, no comment.
ADDENDUM
Today also saw the flashing placed on the double window. Cutting metal is something that has never gone well for me, so surprise when this kind of fit the first time. It got dark before I could take pictures, the significance is this is the project I had started the last time I thought I would get some help around here. That’s how many years this has dragged on. Other parts of the structure were more important. I look forward to sealing this and painting shortly. Finally, a little satisfaction with that project.
