June 26, 2021

Yesteryear
One year ago today: June 26, 2020, four ingredients.
Five years ago today: June 26, 2016, the originals.
Nine years ago today: June 26, 2012, on check-cashing stores.
Random years ago today: June 26, 2014, the old new clubhouse.

           Told ya, I got the Miami seasonal sleeping sickness. You zonk out 9 or 10 hours and still feel like doing it again. This comes along with a major lack of motivation meaning nothing was accomplished today. I’ve got to write a book with half the chapter on yahoos I have known. I’ve said how some people scoff down my mechanic-maintained vehicles, like I’m sinking a fortune into wrecks. Ha, allow me to point a finger at what they are driving. Fixed it yourself, huh? Is that why we are working under the truck at over a hundred degrees in the middle of a Publix parking lot?

           I have never had a transmission that konked out from old age. You can’t convince me there is nothing haywire when the next guy has constant tranny problems of a similar recurring nature on every truck he’s owned in the past 20 years. I woke up so tired, all meetups for the day are cancelled and all that got done is the laundry. Why yes, now that you ask, the laundry is right next to a licensed pool hall. Let’s not confuse tired with under-motivated.

           Just the level of activity in this heat sent me to the grocery to buy everything precooked and packaged. This saved us, that and I brought some DVDs. I skipped our usual power walk around Dadeland Mall, still a decent place to do a lot of babe-watching. It turns out the high point of the day was the laundry. There was a gal at the pub who gave us happy hour prices on these little bottles of Modelo, which was okay. She enjoyed talking to us as I can imagine what she must be used to with that pool hall so close.
           Then I see this 8-seater video pool table, or at least think. It’s some kind of gambling machine. I saw these notes on the wall of people who won more than $1000 but still, no thanks. The only thing stopping JZ was the complicated instructions. He believes in games of pure chance, I’m the sort who thinks skill can tip things a bit. Maybe that’s why I don’t gamble.

Picture of the day.
Apartments in Finland.
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           Look at JZ by the Capt. Morgan statue. That’s in south Miami, where many places are allowed to set up such display. But not a sidewalk sign. What surprised me is this statue is too large to move inside every night and nobody has stolen it. I report the van behaved properly this trip, but careful, the A/C works but never as good as new. The air is cold but not ice cold. This is why I will again put a small transparent curtain across behind the seats. The van cannot be beat for comfort.

           Condo living in Miami, that crazy city with no hills or valleys and they still create a parking shortage. There used to be 20 guest parking spots at JZ’s. The condo association took them away and sold them to individual apartments. Now there are four guest parking spots left for over 100 condos.

           It is not uncommon for JZ to arrive home and find somebody parked in his spot. Don’t call a tow truck, they will not tow off private property. Don’t do anything, in fact. If you try, the next time you get downstairs, the local Cuban mafia will have sabotaged your car and nobody saw nuttin’. Thus, when I found that one spot right in front of the library, I stayed parked there the whole weekend, not daring to move. We went everywhere in JZ’s truck, which explains the parking lot repairs. It’s a linkage that keeps falling off the transmission. And he’s part of the bunch to thinks I drive “unreliable” vehicles. Har-dee-har-har.

Last Laugh