One year ago today: February 23, 2022, banking in Canada.
Five years ago today: February 23, 2018, saving the house.
Nine years ago today: February 23, 2014, rare successful rehearsal.
Random years ago today: February 23, 2016, more house-hunting.
Following a string of minor warnings, today the housing market in the USA was announced to be $200 billion overpriced. How’d they manage that? Well, flood warnings. The prices don’t reflect the danger of housing to floods or the increased insurance fees. The same company claims it can put a value on climate change. Today we tackle that troublesome kitchen light once and, hopefully, for all. I’m going aerial with some 14-2 wiring.
The work is done but the repair is a failure. Shown in this series, the wiring, the ladder up to the attic, the new box, and a look at the 1940s original equipment. Sadly, the switch still does not work so that is a half-day of wasted work. At least I can still crawl around an attic. But that means the problem is the one thing I was trying to avoid. Inside the old spider wiring under the kitchen floor. It’s best to just cut it in place and bypass it with new cable, but that is as much work in the kitchen as any two of the other rooms put together.
Today is, according to the leftoids, the anniversary of the brutal Russian invasion of the Ukraine. The MSM goes on about how Ukraine, with no resources or military-industrial infrastructure has somehow on the verge of defeating the nuclear-tipped Red Army full of battle-hardenedd Afghani officers and an armada of tanks designed to punch through the Fulda Gap and reach the Atlantic coast. All the Ukraine needs to complete their humiliation of Putin is a few more billion US dollars. The only thing more disgusting than this brand of newscast is that there must be Americans out there stupid enough to buy into it.
Brazilian banana cinnamon pizza.
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I’m not that tired but knowing when to quit, I’m taking the evening off with a good book. If I can find any I have not read. Maybe I’ll look for a documentary, but that uses up a lot of bandwidth can’t afford to run short of or to buy more. I have the $50 plan. The next tier is $100 which is vast overkill for here. Even though I know I’ll have tomorrow mostly off again, courtesy of KIA, I’m pacing myself. No way I was climbing ladders and running wiring without consequences, I figure the aftereffects are just a little delayed. Maybe drink coffee and play bass.
It was 80°F in Tennessee, a strange hot day, so the Reb called with the doggies out on a walk. Sammie loves it, he’s got that touch of arthritis, mind you, he’s learned to limp around her but not so much me. We were talking music and that is prime blog material. We have a common interest in music performing, but if you take that aside, we have a rather extensive association with me as band manager. That is actually how we met. It is not usual for me to bounce all kinds of management issues around and today was all about the guitar player.
She makes sure I keep focused and she is aware of the six year history of Bradford. Yes, he’s learned to sing but he has not learned to play in a band. He’s an accomplished guitar player which is not the foremost factor in a group. The Reb is used to my style of letting the other guy think he’s in charge. I know it won’t take long for Bradford to want to expand the group, first with another guitarist, so he can play lead breaks and fills. The snag is I’ve met all the guitar players he knows and they have the same game plan.
How to work that? I talked it over with the Reb and she draws the same conclusion. Let the two of them battle it out. Let Brad be the manager, not me. One might think the opposite of me is somebody who manages bands differently. Wrong, it is somebody who may do things the same as me but who can’t keep the band on that narrow channel to the stated goal of playing out. Thusforth, I know time will get wasted, but anything is better than not playing in a band. Let him figure out as soon as the band gets bigger than just we two, he’ll spend 90% of his time putting down rebellion.
The plan then, is to let the other guitar players make the mistakes. I know they will not practice new material and will try to steer the band toward their memorized list. That’s where letting Brad do the choosing comes in—he knows I can play the tunes in a band, he does not know that about the others. It’s a psychological game and I believe all his friends will let him down, while Bradford and I stick to the plan. I see it as just some time until he gets fed up with them. It’s more complicated than I’d go about things.
ADDENDUM
Pardon the delays, Boost Mobile is up to their old tricks. You go in, you make your payment, they don’t apply it. Two days later, your service is suspended because customer service says you didn’t pay. You prove you did, but now their system is down. They are upgrading. The upgrade consists of no new services or any improvement, it is really designed to make sure anybody who has not bought a new phone in the past two years now has to.
I did find out how to make the blank screen go away. You hold the phone to your ear. I was right, there is no switch. Problem. The major reason you need the screen is because you have been asked to press an icon, which you cannot do if the phone is against your ear. Thes millennials are beneath stupid. So, then I plan to use the library, which is Saturday, and drive home, that’s 64 wasted miles, Boost Mobile. Anyway, the radio is on NPR and I heard a broad cast that was totally asinine even by their libtard standards.
Some Korean lady was being interviewed about K-pop. I think they say K-pop because they intentionally accent the word, which I think is short for Korean pop music. Here is this third or fourth generation Korean, whose father was in the US Army, who speaks perfect English, going on about how hard White culture has been on her. In school, in LA, she says even though the Whites were a minority, she grew up with a sense of their cultural repression because they always played other music.
So I listened knowing they would eventually play a sample of this K-pop. The stupid broad went on for another ten minutes about how she felt abnormal, then she began to realize K-pop was an electronic expression of her ancient Korean music and at that point she was smitten. They played a clip of this ancient music, it was a gong, a single-note drum, and a one-string violin.
Finally we get K-pop. It’s nothing but Korean rap. Totally lifted out of the American ghettos, not a single original or Korean thing about it, even the lyrics are in English. It’s all that same Gang-nam or whatever they called it from ten years ago. I don’t consider rap to be music means I certainly don’t think some contortion of it will make the grade. The whole presentation was pitiful, but that’s how they spend your tax dollars.
