October 8, 2021

Yesteryear
Yesteryear
One year ago today: October 8, 2020, mass IQ depression.
Five years ago today: October 8, 2016, way to go, America.
Nine years ago today: October 8, 2012, Fishman shopping.
Random years ago today: October 8, 2015, bands, batteries, crow traps.

           So much for yard work this morning. That’s the kind of day I want. I got into the shed and glued up more of the trunk lumber, only to get distracted by a small pile of end pieces. That where this box comes in. It looks rough because it is but it contains a number of features, besides charm, I mean. This is the first with corner joints using the biscuits. This has to be done carefully but it works. Beware of sawing the wood to make sure no end-grains get the biscuit cut. Another first is the use of different size biscuits, which turns out surprisingly easy to do.

           What’s not great is the number of biscuits required for even small jobs. Twelve for this tiny project, a tool box for Agt. R’s dent hammer, which he’s long since forgotten he lent me over a year back. The joints produced by this method don’t look great and you can skimp on the relatively expensive biscuits by using three instead of four where called for. I sprayed the wasp nests, only three this year which is not bad. Or maybe hornets, whatever, the outdoors is plenty big for nature. No setting up shop in my private workshed.
           There should be a better picture of the “guest” bedroom here. If you see I don’t make my bed much, that’s it. The room is actually quite as cozy as it looks. You’ve been along for the time it took, the room is soundproofed, insulated, air-conditioned, re-wired and has an excellent view of the back yard. It has that office wall, two separate circuits, a chandelier, a sound and video system, and that most rare of qualities—complete privacy.

           By noon, I’m calling it a day. I glued a lot of boards together and read another couple chapters of my murder mystery. Three people are dead and no clues. We know there is a hired killer, but nothing to say he’s the one. By chapter 17 of 51, we have already got some 30 people to remember. We’ve got at least 20 names that are not essential to the plot, their partial life histories, and the usual intense interest of what people have for dinner. That’s a curious obsession found most often in “library detectives”. This book suffers from Hollywood-think but so far not so bad. My prognosis is that our hired killer did not do the job, that he found the bodies when he got there.

           I’ve got another rare XP computer acting up. There units were built in the early 2000s, around the era they began making them super cheap. I think it is a CPU problem, the applications are losing track of file locations. Not a big deal, I have complete working units still crated up and the older ones can be used for music, work, and scavenged parts. It’s that the day is approaching when there are no more of these antiques and that means zero security and privacy.

           There is a band advertising for a singer just north of town, I know that area. The ad implies the band is up and running and just needs a vocalist to complete the team. Wrong, there is no such band. I wonder, is it Bradford. He has, in the last year, discovered the value of country music, but he still picks the weird songs. He refers to the classics as “old school” but dude, there is a reason they are classics. I’m keeping an eye on that ad. He’s come along with his singing but it is still Karaoke-grade. That would explain to me why he would not want to front a band.
           How do I know the situation? Because I’m in it. No way I can take over from the guitar player who died. Playing bass and singing are not a simple matter of taking over the guitar part. Try it. Playing bass demands more exactitude and concentration or you fall into root-banging. Yet if I don’t try, well you know what they say. Those who avoid failure also avoid success.

Picture of the day.
Svart “energy positive” hotel.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
           This is more work on Sam’s trunk. I’m still learning and this photo shows a small gap that should not be there if the saw blades were exactly 90°. However, this much error is more than acceptable for what I’m used to. Notice the nice shiny interior of the planed pallet wood? That’s in case m’lady wants to put anything dainty on the inside. This is a far cry from my tool cases. This wood will be sanded to a mirror finish and stained the same dark walnut she liked enough to remark, meaning not a compliment but that she does not know from wood staining and I know exactly how to pay attention to such mentions.

           Look for another picture of these boards being glued up. This is the most ambitious box I’ve built yet, which speaks wonders for motivation. The original wood is quite weathered. Where possible, the nice face was chosen for the inside. If you peer at the clamped wood, you may see bits of discoloration, dents, and what seem to be oil smudges. This will be removed by hand plane adjusted to 1/32”.

           Stopping by the old club later, I stuck around. I knew there was something over-familiar with the band’s song list. It’s virtually identical, so much so these guys know each other. Maybe even age-old rivals. I jammed with that guitar player years ago in Auburndale but he never called back Same bass player and drummer as the Thursday jam, thus in some combination, I’ve heard all these guys before. I was mainly there to see the old club finally start hiring live entertainment again. I semi-like this band even if they fudge every other song.
           Stop the presses. It is now 5:03AM next morning and the connection hit me. Coincidences and myself have never gotten along in this world. I pay attention to a band’s third set, not the last like most. I know three is where the crowd and tips normally peak, it’s the bellwether. If the boss is going to check in or you meet a honey, that’s the time. I realized of the eight tunes that set, five were the same as the original list my band handed me, and the three that were consecutive were also in the identical order. Our list has since changed, but I had key-entered it and remembered, the order being more important than other similarities. It hit me in my sleep.

           On top of that, two of the remaining [tunes] were also on our list, just in different sets. There is some connection between all these people that I have not placed yet. Good thing I paid close attention to how tonight’s band presented their material. Normally, there is one musician who out-performs the rest, usually the star of the show, and rarely the bass player. This is not to be confused with over-performing, never over-play your band. That’s another thing that struck me tonight. This band had no real front man. The guitar player sang, but he did so like I do. Whenever he’s singing, his playing tapers off. Mine doesn’t, but I’m saying I recognize the sequence. I make it a point to keep the bass going. He can’t do that with his guitar.
           My head is buzzing over this one. Allow me to speculate in my own favor, none of this has any current basis, I’m merely reacting to the situation. If my latest band sees me as a vocalist and bass player, it would not be unlike what tonight’s show. That would make sense why they want me to do so much singing. They should be careful what they wish for. When I do sing and play, my show tunes are designed to make me the stage darling. Each tune is a precious showcase geared to present myself as not just another background musician.
           There is one more aspect. This has elements of both bragging and self-deprecation, so how you read it reveals your character, not mine. I could not join the best band in Polk, thus I did join what is probably the worst. By that, I mean if this band was any worse, they’d never get hired. The fact is, I utterly outclass these guys and intentionally gear my playing down to their level. But that aspect is definitely going to eventually show up on stage. The two extremes will be either they fire me or I become the front man. Neither are my plan, but could this be the opportunity I’ve waited for? Next rehearsal is Monday, Columbus Day.

ADDENDUM
           Here is the evolution of the new cardinal feeder. I’ve decided to bury a plastic pipe deep enough to hold a metal pole long enough to keep the feeder six feet off the ground. I have the old metal shield that keeps the squirrels from leaping onto the unit from overhanging branches. It may be unnecessary as shown here is the metal anti-squirrel cage with the new birdfeeder resting inside. If this works by itself, the view is much better. The bottom of the wire frame is open, but the baseplate of the feeder will prevent anything large enough to cause trouble from entering.
           I took the hedge trimmers to a lot of the wild grass along the north side of the cabin. These shade loving species quickly grow to four feet high. Some have nice flowers but none of these plants take to transplanting to other areas of the yard. It’s time again to get the hoe and chop up the roots and rhizomes of the camphor trees. Otherwise, they spread into the sunny areas and the stems quickly get too tough for yanking out, although they can, if caught early enough, be mowed. But mowing does not kill them.
           Maybe I’ll regret it but I’ve left five “pistachio” trees to grow over the back yard, providing the only shade on the south side of the yard. By breaking off the lower branches, the remaining leaves grow huge and the effect of walking under them is wonderful on a hot day. They grow up rather than out, and pruning them does not always produce two headers. As long as they give me a nice shady back yard, they can stay.

Last Laugh