April 10, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 10, 2022, a virtual meeting.
Five years ago today: April 10, 2018, two new books.
Nine years ago today: April 10, 2014, my trusty Jamus.
Random years ago today: April 10, 2010, proofreading is a dead end.

           Nope, I’ve had enough Miami and I’m back at the cabin. JZ & I headed to the library at Pinecrest, where the staff of the only library there gets the “Library of the Month Award” and the cafeteria does not serve coffee. Mind you, we had the treat of a real breakfast that included ribs. You know, I’ve never been that much a fan of tomatoes, but the Reb says one a day. I mentioned it to JZ, so now I will never hear of getting enough tomatoes. Oh, did I mention, because I also mentioned the edema in my thigh, JZ checks his ankles and sure enough. Apparently this can be countered by changing to other brands of medicine.

           Here’s the gizmo I found at the Thrift, nobody knows what it is. Here’s JZ holding onto it Saturday morning. Should I tell him I discovered it was an anti-edema device? If you know, leave a comment. I have some comments. If I was in charge I would remove the following “subjects” from being “taught” at universities. Physical Education, gender studies, and humanities. You could still study them and get high marks, but they would not qualify for university credits or degrees. Instead, such would be provided in blank forms on the back of cereal boxes and inside back covers of gardening magazines.

           And while I’d turn a blind eye on it, arts and language “studies” would still be allowed, although also as non-credit courses. I see a place for these disciplines at it is not on the same campus as people studying math, science, engineering, and medicine. I’m not even that keen on literature and history except in an applied fashion. Repeat, I would not forbid these courses, but no credit toward a degree. Just no way.
           By noon, we stopped at Burger King, pretty much the only place we will tolerate fast food. The place was broken, no coffee, no ice cream, out of soda, and I don’t have to tell you what color the staff was. JZ had photocopied the crossword puzzles at the library, so we worked a few and talked strategy. He recalls many of the gigs with the Hippie, who’s name came up because nobody has seen him in years. I know he was on probation but that’s one area of the legal process I don’t understand. Anyway, if JZ can get out to the cabin, I’ll put him to work.

           There are no jobs in this area. This was one of the first where employers made the short-sighted decision to replace low-skilled jobs with immigrant labor. Sure, it works for a while, but then they find the immigrants lack the education to be upgraded when that time comes along. All the whites are gone, and you know the rest. Twenty years later the companies are still bitching and moaning they can’t find qualified people.
           Time to get out in the yard. For you people who left snarky comments so long ago when I warned against using the free rechargers in airports and libraries, time for you to read this link. The malware has a name I first heard today, “juice-jacking”.

Picture of the day.
Coastline in Gabon, Africa.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           The Pinecrest library has finally blocked all non-leftoid pages. That explains the four-day gap in this journal, along with my fruitless search for a decent tablet or laptop. The last generaion of Mac whatevers is dropping in price with the introduction of 12th-generation laptop circuit boards. I have no info beyone the rumor they are printed on film, similar to the contacts under your keyboard until the first time you spill a little coffee. Apparently these latest laptops are so weightless, they require some way to keep them from drifting. I’ll consider both options, but I was not happy with Pinecrest censoring GAB and this also changed their URL and Google would not let me blog over it. The millennial asshole ratio gains that notch.

           I was amused to read an article that the Maori people are objecting. They did not like the way A.I. learned their language and was translating things. Like many, I figured, too bad, but then I read the facts and figures. It seems they have much in common with my feelings over data storage. They are more about protecting their privacy and stopping the harvesting of data than about how A.I. actually functions. They’ve got some excellent talking points, and being residents of a far away island, I may decide to keep an eye on how they fare.

           Arriving home early enough to check the laundry deck. Shown here is one of two ladders needed for the job. I plan to sheath the roof twice. Once with the leftover lumber and a few layers of foil and tarpaper, then a thin but proper layer if all proves fine. I had a sheet of 3/4” flooring plywood in one spot and I’m salvaging that for the kitchen floor. There is always just a chance JZ will show up. This roof will dominate the blog until it is done.
           There is a small scaffold just visible, as the slope of the canopy is too steep to walk on in safety. So far the roofing has cost me $0 but darn it, I seem to have misplaced the expensive 3-wire I bought for the switch, which is at the end of the run. Took it out of the van and put it away, now can’t find it. The foam has so far stymied the squirrels, though taking inventory shows they got 12 jars of peanut butter. Last for now, have you heard of TURO? I did a half-hour ago. It has to do with that KIA sitting there. I will investigate the concept tomorrow, but it seems TURO would like to do with rental cars what AirBNB did to hotels.
           The labor department says the average cab driver makes $37,500 per years but I do not believe that for a moment. At the prices they charge, I say it is twice that plus tips. The Reb called me about TURO, apparently they have solved the problem of the overcharges for insurance, so that warrants a hard look. Tomorrow.

ADDENDUM
           This is the Indian Creek Country Club, with famous clientele like JZ. The entire center of the island is taken up by an 18-hole golf course. That should give you some idea of the depth of conversation and intellect on the premises. No doubt the private residences have weight rooms but not much by way of libraries. Whose that guitar player who lived there, the “Felice Navidad” guy?

           Don’t mistake Indian Creek for paradise. The island is totally dependent on the mainland for power and water. The one bridge that connects the island has a lot of pins on the drug map near the entrance and the place is apparently huge on pizza delivery. Julio Iglesias, that’s the name of the guitar guy. His property tax is $475,000 per year. That’s for the house he lives in. He owns several other lots on the island.
           There are no schools or stores, those sort of things are farmed out to nearby communities. There is also a 24/7 armed marine patrol circling the island. Makes you wonder what they know that we don’t.

Last Laugh