April 7, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 7, 2021, the A/C experiment.
Five years ago today: April 7, 2017, “Stripes” never made it.
Nine years ago today: April 7, 2013, mentions Lincoln City.
Random years ago today: April 7, 2020, I still pay cash.

           Oh, would I pay a hundred bucks to torture the bastard who changed the Windows search app, not that it was any good in the first place. Here I am typing in this entry the second time because the first, which I know is there, cannot be located by Windows on my desktop back home. Here I am, up at 4:30 AM to be on the road by 6:30 AM to make my appointment at 10:00PM. A little room to spare on the trip of 194 miles so I could take my time. A wise plan, the weather was fanstastic, making for a more than pleasant drive in via Highway 27 through Moore Haven and South Bay, both nothing towns except for this blog.

           Cloudless except for over Okeechobee and 73°F inside the van. Enough to roll down the windows on the slow zones. I’m fasting for medical tests and it will be 18 hours by the time I get out. So I rewarded myself by taking it easy along Route 66 (the crappy road in Florida) and listening to “All The Colors of Dark”, where it is already Chapter 26, yet North and Sierra (typical audiobook names) have still not done the wild thing. What’s interesting is the passages are from a woman’s point of view. Eventually that turns into the only novelty in this book. What part of casual sex does that woman not understand?

           The tests were again automated. Over in 15 minutes instead of two hours. They hit me for a second blood sample for a reason I’ve become used to—the original vials test so zero percent, they need a follow-up to confirm. Folks, there are no opioids or anything like that in my blood—nor am I some Jesus-freak whatever. I simply have never enjoyed getting fogged. What’s so hard for some people to grasp about that? The tests are now so slick, I arrived at JZ’s early afternoon. The original plan was to go carousing. But I arrived sapped of any gumption. He’s already pout in a day, so we sat down to visit. Sure enough, I fell sound asleep for so long it was too late to check out the campus bar.
           He decides to let me snooze and he watches Clint Eastwood westerns. For the first time in history we did not choose the party. It’s my fault, it’s one thing to admit getting on in years, another to experience it. Yes folks, I chose a comfy arm chair over the bright lights and the world compassionately let me snore. It’s a good thing this doesn’t bother me, since I’d planned on this.

Picture of the day.
Tourist submarine portholes.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           What’s happen in Miami? Nothing positive. For reasons it continues to grow while becoming as bad as Mexico City. The place is long gone. I’d forgotten the Fair was this time of year, but it ends Sunday. On Easter. That’s the day JZ has to head for a big dinner and due to the amount of walking involved, I hesitate to go there on my own. I’ve done it before, but another downside of Miami is third-worlders make it dicey to rely on strangers. You may be okay with that, I’m not.

           This curious picture is about looking for a spring. Most guys have one of those tray thingees full of spare parts. JZ’s is out in the open, the result is shown here. However, I maintain the mess in my shed is more expansive, this collection takes the prize for ageless corrosion. That’s a spool of solder I can’t use, it’s acid core. Oh look, a tray of bottle openers from the days before twist-off. And rest your eyes on the supply of emergency paper clips. Need any rusty fish knives? Window twisties? I don’t know how the picture of groceries got in there, but if you ever need to start a country hardware store, we are consultants.

           We’d considered a half day at the County Fair tomorrow. The price tag makes that untenable. Instead, it’s a shopping trip and a chance to catch up. Visiting can be complicated with so much history, that top of that shopping list is coffee. JZ is just not a coffee person and does not keep good fixin’s. That includes no Carnation and I will never adapt to putting milk into coffee. Why cool down and dilute perfectly good coffee? Sorry I’ve nothing to report, except maybe how the warmer Miami climate can both keep you limbered at the same time as increase the odds you’ll take a siesta.
           Then, behind the end table, I find an unread encyclopedia. This is not looking at all food for classic chick-hunting weekend. Them babes over a Miami U may just have to wait.

Last Laugh