One year ago today: July 3, 2020, a gallon of tea.
Five years ago today: July 3, 2016, a forgotten steak breakfast.
Nine years ago today: July 3, 2012, math, engineering, & mechanics.
Random years ago today: July 3, 2017, I like Winter Haven.
This morning had me watching videos on air-cooled aircraft engines. There seems to be no progress in nearly 100 years, although you could split hairs. There is also room for improvements in the combination of adding a supercharger. I’m waiting for the paint store to open and the memorable part of the videos was each time I got up to go get a refill or stir a pot, a bloody commercial came on. It was listen or walk back, but I got to noticing the degeneration of these advertisements. The lack of imagination is incredible. The ads are aimed at low-grade idiots and every version smacks of some scam.
And those solar panel commercials that might be free, and maybe cut your power, and possibly sell electricity back to the company, and could cost you nothing. You know the one, the entire ad does not state one absolute. The only thing worse than an ugly narrator is one who is lying through her teeth.
Later, it’s blue paint or nothing. There are two gallons of orange back there if you want. This must be retard Saturday, even the downpour did not keep them from driving all the way to Winter Haven in my blind spot, and another batch blocking the paint counter as if it belonged to them. The van radio was on and those pathetic Tampa radio stations were actually trying to tell the Trump crowds to go home, that dangerous storms were predicted. Yeah, at the voting booths.
I pissed them off by showing the people in line you could walk around a bin and access the counter from the other side. The two women gave us the scowl like we were taking stuff they had not looked at yet, and believe me, when they saw the lineup, they were taking their bloody time. For reasons untold, it is hard to find dark colored paint at the recycle. Blue’s the color on the paint can, we have not opened it yet. I’ve planned another full undercoat of primer, that first coat is just too watery. It’s a good day for painting, that rain is out of season and such thunder does not usually occur until late afternoon. Check later, I may get motivated.
Bird behavior makes no sense to me. But the racket out there tells me there is some change. I’ve noticed the birds will share if they stay on opposite sides of the feeders. One difference is they used to disappear when it rained. Now they are in the tree, so I wonder if I could attracted them to a sheltered perch? I did some preliminary searching and this article (once again for me) does not seem to be common. I was thinking of a simple plank roof with a suspended closet rod below. And I’ve wondered about making a cage out of wire that lets only the small birds into the sanctuary. Would they use it? I mean unless I put food in there. They would not have to flee every time an intruder enters the entire yard.
By 11:00AM, I’ve sketched what I think would work. A typical birdhouse roof, around a yard long, but no wooden sides of bottom. Instead, slung underneath is my old shovel handle, which I just knew to keep for something like this. The roof would be simply to planks at a 45° angle, and from that, hang 1” mesh. I have enough of that kicking around here somewhere, it will be easy find now that I have nice sheds. The bottom could be anything, ever chicken wire, just to seal that as a possible vermin entry. I’m sure it’s been done, but if not, here’s a potential new handicraft.
I heard a novel theory that the reason big media is collapsing is because their business model was configured to have one smart person trying to argue with a half-dozen stupid people. This worked when information was centralized, but where I used to glance at Fox News, I now have five smaller links I regularly visit, for instance Gab for it’s higher-IQ memes that if nothing else, must taunt the hell out of liberals. Or at least the ones that get the point.
House with electricity.
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By 1:00Pm, I got a decent undercoat finished. Valspar, it was a superior product apparent just from opening the can. While I no longer have the patience for painting, another dynamic may be at work. I’ve not painted seriously since before the motorcycle collision and found it painful to reach some spots. Wait for photos, I’m aiming to have at least one finish coat done by end of day. Then, I may go downtown for a restaurant meal. I’m reminded of the words of P.J. O’Rourke on home cooking. It is not salt that makes meat tough, it is poverty.
I thought the July 4th crowd was jumping the gun since last day, but it is people heading for Sarasota. People who commute from here say the roads to Sarasota, around 85 miles from here, have been choked since late y’day. So many vehicles parked, there is no hope of towing and I would not in any case try that. CNN is not going to mention the number of out-of-state plates. I saw a few photos, the people seem prepared to camp if they have to. Unless the bad guys do another Kennedy, I’d say for Joe and the Camel in Florida, it’s all over buy the cryin’.
This confirms to me a serious lack of computer savvy that I previously only suspected was out there. The people marketing the concept make money at it, but no way would they be considered more than remotely aware of what they are doing computerwise. It’s fair to way you don’t need to be a mechanic to drive a car, but you should probably pay attention when there are 500 a day people telling you the car is unsafe. The main secure work station will dominate this wall very soon. Some of the necessary components are also computer-based, meaning the prior system of just logging in through Tennessee won’t work. The worst offender is Chrome.
I contacted Keith the guitar player, I asked for a song list. The reality is I found the list he gave me long ago. Judging by what he played last day, there may be no changes. I can already play most of it because it is so similar to the Hippie’s list. Music I had not played in years until I got to Florida—and he concluded I was the guy behind the times, duh? Anyway, most of the stuff is so old I have tabs to it, a step I only take with tunes I’m in danger of forgetting.
Did you see the news about Antifa fistfight at the spa where the queer paraded in front of kids? Neither did I, because from the way the incident was reported, one could not tell if the Antifa attacking the protesters over being for or against the incident. The news was the fight, not the issues, I guess. My solution for people who are sexually confused? Same as ever, equal but separate. Use the spa where you offend the fewest. America works best as a land of supply and demand.
