One year ago today: November 10, 2020, Whole Foods, Nashville.
Five years ago today: November 10, 2016, Souteastern U.
Nine years ago today: November 10, 2012, things that don’t work.
Random years ago today: November 10, 2007, they say I’m best . . .
That van is almost certainly on the way out. It’s got a lot of accumulated wear and tear and now that gasket is acting up again. I wonder if I dare drive it back to Tennessee. I don’t have much for you today, Things continue now matter, and this morning the hillbilly has disappeared for 24 hours now, not that he was ever the most stable character. The doggies, naturally, have been on my doorstep since. They know where the people food is. They have been getting their full dozen eggs per day and relishing it to the limit.
The shed now has three shelves, but only two in operation. It sure has taken the pressure off the inside of the house. I can sit on chairs and dine on the table again. This whole place is due for a house-cleaning, the major challenge always being what to chuck. You will need whatever gets dumped, unless it is my imagination. I’ve downloaded another essay on why Europe got so wealthy starting 500 years ago, though I do not agree with their conclusions that it had nothing to do with them being chromatically unique. But if you were to judge by skin tone alone, there is no question which direction that goes.
Next, I’ve decided on a number of smaller shelves on the south wall. The drawback of the larger shelves in the red shed is the need to move stuff to get at other stuff. That, and over time the boxes begin to deteriorate.
I hammered down on the bass and learned two Stevie Ray Vaughan tunes, both of which I’ve managed to never hear in more than 40 years on the circuit. But other band members assure me they are crowd-pleasing super-hits. Worst of the lot is that “Look At Little Sister” that two of the band members will never be able to play. I mean ever. I downloaded the bass tab to “Ruby Baby” and I think these guys must do a simpler version than that. Good. Time to show them how it is done in front of a crowd.
It’s amusing, this new band, because as I got older, I saw the overall pattern of band development. I’m sticking with this band because they play out, but otherwise on a scale of 1 to 10, this group is a solid 2.5. They might get 3 if they could bear to part with half the junk on their song list. Every band has somebody who thinks he’s discovered some obscure B-side no-hit by his favorite artist. I know I’ve heard every excuse why the band has to play that song because there are only two or three of them. The true reason is always the same, the other guy will not stop whining until you play it. And Vaughan cranked out a lot of B-side rubbage.
New Age sniper.
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I believe I’ve found an actual food item at Wal*mart that has only pure ingredients, even if the major one is sugar. No preservatives or chemicals. Not a lot of this winds up on toast as it has become a snack food around here. The only critters around here not on a strict diet would be the doggies. Americans do not find it unusual to hear reports of companies being fined for creativ use of these food labels.
By late in the day the hillbilly has still not shown up. I know something has gone wrong over there. But it is not right to presume I’ll keep the pets meanwhile, which is what has happened here. They got fed twice today because of what might happen down the line. The cost is nearing $5 per day which I know he does not have. I have to get up at 6:30AM to feed them at 8:00AM.
Then again, I’m used to it, aren’t I? No snarky comments required. He showed up later, got himself a job for the day and left the dogs here. He hasn’t clued in that they know how to get out of my fenced area. Anyway, I told him not to do that any more.
ADDENDUM
Here’s an on-line test, Nine Genuine Signs of Intelligence that People Can’t Fake. This is only five minutes, so let’s take the test.
1. You embrace solitude.
2. Expert in sarcasm.
3. You realize what you don’t know.
4. You read widely.
5. You are creative.
6. You talk to yourself.
7. You are open-minded.
8. You are observant.
9. You are empathetic.
Without rating myself. I would elaborate on these.
1. You embrace solitude by excluding people who contribute little or nothing.
2. Sarcasm has many forms, I prefer the written.
3. Dunning-Kreuger can also apply in reverse.
4. I was unaware there was any other kind of reading.
5. But that does not mean fanatically creative in one field.
6. This one I admit to, especially when rehearsing music.
7. Okay, but that doesn’t mean all over the place.
8. I saw this study, didn’t I?
9. Yes, but not to anybody who happens along.
Next, there was a list of lies that women believe that they think men also believe:
1. Men aspire to and enjoy being a stepfather.
2. Men will forgive a promiscuous past.
3. Men can be kept on hold for later.
4. Men want women who are their equal.
6. Men don’t have standards.
7. Men care about a woman’s education and income.
8. Men want women with high-paying jobs.
9. Men think fat is the same as curvy.
10. Men will always find all women attractive.
There is no answer to this inequality. Women have it all their own way fast and furious, but some never learn the lesson—when you are no longer young and pretty, what you are as a person surfaces and can have a devastating effect on women in particular. The tables turn after around age 25 and some women can’t seem to stand it. You hear them on talk radio a lot. I view them making that big mistake as the counterpart of my big mistake that older women would come to their senses about what is good in a man. And at no later than 21 years of age.
Of the list of lies, numbers 3 & 9 are the ones I’ve encountered most often. There is really only one woman I’ve ever waited for, and it was a long wait. However, number 6 is a hell of a thing, because bad women not only think you have no standards, they can be hypocrites about it. Your standards must be high over other women but low enough to overlook themselves. I went out fo a drink after dark and two housewife types, in a bar full of prowling men, tried to strike up a conversation with me. I politely declined, there is just something off about fooling around with women who look like my mother.
My favorite conclusion about the disconnect is whoever said, “As men age, they start looking like Sean Connery. As women age, they start looking like Sean Connery.”
