One year ago today: March 5, 2020, my first fossil.
Five years ago today: March 5, 2016, scooter birthday
Nine years ago today: March 5, 2012, like photographers.
Random years ago today: March 5, 2010, beware – natural unevenness.
Hello from Lakeland. Turns out there was no sense hanging around Miami until next week for a lab test that’s a formality at this stage. It was not easy, but I actually got all my medical appointments done. Talk about the runaround, but that’s the dead end America is barreling straight down. Every man for himself is fine, until it becomes every man against each other, a society brought on by political correctness by a tiny minority. Because we had enough food for week, it was baby back ribs for breakfast. Leftovers? With baked spuds, and home made everything. No diet food around here. Blog rules say you get this picture.
Thusforth, I described this rare event in some detail. Anyway, in the visitor center I watched that Everglades history video, and my flabber was gasted. Years later, right there on the screen, was that same lightning bolt, but on a picture from the far southeast. I could never forget that distinctive a strike, and there it was. On screen from fifty miles away, so you can’t really tell how big it was, my guess is ¾ of a mile high, the afternoon clouds that day were way up there. Ladies, you will have to ignore the distraction of that spiffy-looking old guy in the video, I swear, the guy follows me around and bombs my best shots.
Bottom line, again, is I do not believe in coincidences. But you can go ahead and try to explain this one. I’ve got places to get to. I stopped at the new half-size Thrift in Clewiston and bought a booklet on how medieval wives are expected to behave. So far I like the restrictions, but only insofar as women had little other options. Arriving after dark, I stopped to check on that closing date of the club sale. April 5, so remind me to go get my PA system out of there.
Mercedez Maybach rear seating.
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Early getaway or not, it was still mid-afternoon by the time I got out of the traffic squalor or Miami. I gassed up and spotted this milkshake vending machine. I looked at it and looked at it, and finally stopped this lady refilling the coffee maker. She didn’t know, it had been there a while and nobody used it. I read the ingredients and figured for $3, give it a try. It was a combo gas station pizza joint, so I see ten or so staff and regulars watching me. Photo op!
Thinking fast, I asked the on-lookers how long this machine had sat unused until I came along. They exchanged glances, realizing it was a loaded question, and said they didn’t “weren’t sure”.
Blog rules, I must record the unusual. For no reason, my van heated over. The water was full, but just for a moment as I pulled into the hospital parking lot, the guage rose and the water gurgled when I stopped the engine. Two hours later, I came back and completely checked everything out. Although I could not find the thermostat, do 2008’s have some other arrangement? And that unexplained seat-windshielf wiper phenomenon. For no reason the driver’s seat begins to shift back and forward and intermittently, there go the windshield wipers. Is this some kind of joke?
ADDENDUM
I gave Ray-B a lecture. He wrote to say he has not played any gigs since middle of last year. You spend half a lifetime to get to stage time, and then don’t use it? You see, Ray-B has that altruistic view of performing, that his reward ends at making people happy. I used the example of our mutual ex-aquaintance, the Hippie to tear a strip off that line of thinking. You see, Ray-B feels he needs a better job and better place to lilve before asking a woman out [from the place he works]. I won’t date a woman over 28 unless she has her own house and car, I mean, what’s her equivalent role in all of this? It’s not like they are sitting around saving their virginity? You see where I’m going with this.
Ray-B, as a seasoned entertainer, has an automatic advantage just walking into 90% of most rooms and situations. He need only change his perspective. I pointed out how the Hippie started out thirty years ago around the same time I switched exclusively to bass for my purposes. We could not have been more opposite—on the musical scoreboard. He denied he was in it for the money and the women, I did not deny it. Because I fully intended to date women out of my league and pay grade—using the scale in most people’s minds that is. Not mine. To me, anything is better in love and sex than taking what the world dishes out.
Consider the past few decades. Today, the Hippie is undoubtedly a fantastic guitar player. But he’s never had the ladies, never made any real money, and is still playing the same circuit with the same song list. On the other hand, none of that applies to me. So I’ll put the question to you as to Ray-B. Both the Hippie and I accomplished our stated goals. Which one of us is the winner here? My message remains, in this era of enforced “equality”, get what you can while you can, Because you have no concept yet of how hard it will be to get any later in life. It’s there, I mean, but finding what you want? Forget it. Other than music, only those born into some charmed life have an easy go of it.
