October 29, 2021

Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 29, 2020, beware of CNAME tracking.
Five years ago today: October 29, 2016, sawing trees coincidence.
Nine years ago today: October 29, 2012, about a year & a half . . .
Random years ago today: October 29, 2013, sidecar sagas.

           I had a little cheese a week too long in the fridge, so I mixed it in with the dog’s breakfast. Today is was beef, gravy, rice, nothing they haven’t had here before. Except the cheese. I was lucky to get away with my fingers intact. Extra sharp cheddar it was. Good morning and the real estate people from Tennessee never called back. That’s a no-sale. My simple question was, “Have you told me everything important about this property.” So we keep looking, something will come up. I took a look around to notice most cities no longer hold auctions at the courthouses, rather put them on-line these days. Then again, there are not masses of houses like back then.

           No word from the band if we are playing tonight, so I’ve made other plans. Our only confirmed booking is this Sunday. Then nothing until December 11. The market is lucrative but it is also saturated. Another factor is how so many bands come and go. The clubs become leery of a new act displacing one of their regulars, who are usually established groups that will go elsewhere and become unavailable. This does not discourage me as my most successful gigs have been those I created out of nothing, such as Jimbos. Six and a half years of gigs from a place that never had more than a juke box.

           This photo is proof there really was a back yard under all those vines. Two days of hauling one log a day from the space shows just a little of the orange camphor trunk left. The burning is going to be one gigantic weenie roast, probably a six-beer fire. The yard is starting to reappear with the hillbilly moving all the logs and hauling trash away.
           The rain quit just short of disaster levels last evening, so I did some chop sawing in the shed. The pallet lumber is inconsistent enough to really give things that rustic look. I will need another 31 pallets of mostly good wood to complete the siding. This marks another record in the amount of days worked for me without requiring recuperation. It was not a gradual recovery, but more of a surprise each time I worked over my previous limit by several hours. Wish me luck.

           Let’s click on the radio and get some morning propaganda out of Tampa. They praised the new Twix candy bar ad about a boy in a girl’s dress as signifying “acceptance”. We had these types around in my day, but they were not as in-your-face. Strange how these weirdos have one thing in common: trying to convert you to their weirdness. It is no longer just a theme for Hollywood zombie movies. They claim society is becoming more tolerant while the fact is, due to cancel culture, they are just less likely to speak up. The ad has an obvious meaning and it is disgusting.

           Feeling like driving, I took the long way home. That’s where I discover they have repaved Highway 17, shown here. It was not that bad of a shape, but you know how budgets work. This was one of my old motorcycle routes, since nothing uses that road except a few school busses. This scene would be considered rush hour. I turn on the old Agricola Mine Road, which comes out south of Bartow. That’s another road discovered by motorcycle since it twists and turns and isn’t any kind of shortcut.
           The hillbilly’s got a job in the next town over, so the doggies who have learned to wait at my kitchen door in the mornings will be back to their regular fare. I still can’t figure why they like powdered milk. The rain returned just before noon, so I took the rest of the day off. Good move, it was like soup out there. Got my letters mailed, my visiting done, accidentally bought two DVDs I’d already seen, tanked up the van ($63!) and got a haircut

           So the new barber says they have a special on Wednesdays, only $11. Since I’ve begun to conserve again, what the heck. Then he mentions Neil, the singer. Neil from Paradise Lakes, a trailer park, yeah I know him. Well, says the barber, he’s a changed man, gained himself 80 pounds, and switched to country music. Tell me more. He’s forming a band, is he now? And he’s looking for a bass player? Can’t find one, you say?
           This is a weekend between payday at the mines, so everything is dead. I stopped in at the Thrift to say hello, they had no idea what “Let’s go, Brandon” was about. They raised their prices, or more like they had to and I see the building is for sale again. One thing I never figured is how these little towns with negative population growth still expect to sell their houses for big city prices. In nothing places like Mulberry, nothing is under $200,000.

Picture of the day.
Abandoned S. Michigan RR car.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Forget the poor little guy in the photos last day. He brought along his brothers and sisters and I’m dealing with a possum pandemic. There she is on my work counter beside the kitchen, dead center There are at least two more and I’m thinking they are getting in through the attic. . This is possible on this building mainly because I’m less than keen crawling up there. As before, I will bait the trap and this time take them for a long ride, maybe out past the library. I’ve been there maybe twice in the past year. They think magazines carry COVID and I’ve read their entire worthwhile non-fiction. If was up to me, those terms would be fact and non-fact. Or fact and Democrat.

           And has anybody seen those recent pictures of Chelsea Clinton? She graduated from college, or more like the college didn’t dare flunk her and is now crusading against white privilege. Nothing like somebody born a millionaire to tell me I have unfair advantages. In the circles where she comes from there are signs of at least some panic. How about those leftists who tried to pose as right-wing supporters at a Republican campaign event?

           I could care less but what I found amusing is that the scam was so rapidly exposed. Dozens of people recognized the posers as Democrat operatives, forcing at least one media giant to apologize for jumping on the story. Score one for social media because it squelched a hoax that would normally take months to die down. And proves once again the vast majority of Democrat women are cruddy looking crows. I cannot clarify my stance on that often enough. It is fine to be an ugly women. It is not fine to be an ugly woman and act as if you are some kind of movie star and demand to be treated like one.
           There are several shallow “news” outfits on-line that do little besides repost the headlines of other sources. The Epoch Times and Gateway Pundit are prime examples. They add nothing, they make money charging for advertising based on the number of clicks they steer to a client. I have been one of their biggest critics of which they have many. So many, they have switched to Gab, which has a mute button. However, it seems they are too stupid to figure out how it works.

           You can go to their comment section and call them out for what they are, and the content gets posted. Most Gab posters are functional illiterates who cannot form full sentences and don’t even bring up their spelling or IQ standings. A speed typist like myself can go in there and publish half-page documents that utterly put them down by name. I cannot believe it has been nearly two weeks and they seem stunned. They must be obvious millennials because they are shocked that anyone could openly disagree with their wonderful and perfect way of doing things.
Sooner or later, these slope-head rookies will discover that mute button, which blocks me from posting in their comment section. The problem they have is that you only need an e-mail account logged in to comment, and I have dozens of unused accounts. They have shot back some choice words but their public school educations show through. I’m appalled by how long it is taking them to figure out that button.

ADDENDUM
           TMOR (to my overseas readers) there are many Americans who don’t know what Freedom of Speech means, and take it they can say anything they want anywhere they want. This is not true. While nobody can stop you from expressing an unpopular opinion, they also have rights. Freedom to speak is not the same as a right to be heard. They can block you, refuse you entry or admission, have you arrested if you cause or incite violence, and, if they had the brains on their Gab account, they could hit the mute button.

Last Laugh