March 22, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 22, 2022, another idiot guitarist.
Five years ago today: March 22, 2018, still running the numbers.
Nine years ago today: March 22, 2014, NOVA now sucks.
Random years ago today: March 22, 2017, from New York, huh?

           To the airport at 4:30AM. This means the doggies will get “mostly chicken” for breakfast and don’t they know it. I’m stocked up with coffee and went out to set all the gizmos in the Civic. I find so many people dislike navigating the automobile menus. That’s dislike, even the simple menus like on the Honda, but I fully empathize with them when you get millennial menus. Designed by idiots for idiots. Did I mention the latest millennial design on the KIA? The seat designed by a seat expert and the seatbelt by a seatbelt expert. But you cannot connect or disconnect the best without raising up the armrest. Speaking of comfort, here's Sammy being chaufeured around in his sun carriage.
          

           The design of my van cockpit needs work. Because of that armrest problem, I’m going to make some changes. I like to drive with my right arm resting on something. I have all the tools needed here, so expect that to be the most exciting event in the near future. She texted from Dallas and Sacramento, so the trip went okay. I forget, is she performing or speaking this tour? To me, both the same. And that is a large part of what I like in that woman. We worked a crossword while the doggies were out in the yard and neither of us could name the soap operas in the clues. What’s not to love about a gal like that?

Picture of the day.
Condos in Spain.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Another long walk with the critters despite this unusual cold. Kind of bites through things. It takes me a day or so to climatize. I have several magazine subscriptions here, so there is plenty of catch-up reading each time around. That’s it for news. The pets go into a funk when she leaves, but with me they re-learn each time to get over it. For example, the breakfast they turn their noses up at becomes such a treat by supper time. The big dog, the pit cross, is a big baby when it comes to feeding and attention. When I’m around, he knows it is ground turkey and gravy. See this picture? They sure remembered the memory foam in the van.

           This trip I’m hesitant to stick around. I’m re-arranging some of the banking to make it easier to amalgamate the reports. There was a deposit gone missing and I stopped in to find out why that bank has not answered my inquiries. They wanted me to call customer service and I laid it on the line for them. No way. That’s the so-called outfit concerned with your security that wants you to state all your vital information on the phone before they’ll talk to you. The manager was away but I may stay an extra day just to chat with that lady. If I mail a money order to the bank and it disappears, I would at least like a note saying they did not receive it.

ADDENDUM
           Motivated to look, I examined the reports of the Burma Road today. Typical of both that region and their culture, the road remains in roughly the same condition as when the Americans left. Only a small bit of the road is actually in Burma. Turns out the locals consider the tunnels haunted or some similar shit and use the inefficient old caravan tracks. The most famous photo of the road is bogus. The “Twenty-Four Bends” (shown here) is in a neighboring province.
           Like most American foreign aid, the road has gone to rack and ruin. The only part of Americana that persists in these primitive cultures is movies, Coca-Cola, and dismal concepts of racial equality. The old road is gone, they say, but parts of the track are still visible from the air. There are rumors that some still-passable sections of the road are subject to home-made drone attacks by bandits. Same with Cameroon, Ethiopia, and the Honduras. Strange how these cultures want the American lifestyle but never want to work for the infrastructure that makes it possible.

Last Laugh