One year ago today: May 6, 2022, talkers disappear.
Five years ago today: May 6, 2018, I got the jacket.
Nine years ago today: May 6, 2014, 36W test drive.
Random years ago today: May 6, 2017, debt under Trump.
It’s mild but muggy, so let’s see what we manage. I finished with that little box that hopefully fits the door knob assembly. That was to get mobile, you know, limber up for the air compressor shade. The hillbilly buried the last post a foot too deep when I asked him to move it a foot toward the building. But any help around here is a boon. I leveled the posts and here is a view of the cross-members (whatever) going up. You can see how I’ve learned to work alone, too bad I can’t pay myself $15 an hour. I didn’t make it downtown last evening. Reading about the capacitors and the next I knew it was too late.
These photos show the posts being leveled and temp braces as things move rapidly through the morning. Some of the pieces shown are for marking and not part of the structure. The radio had a documentary on Elizabeth Montgomery, the actress who played on “Bewitched” in the 1960s(?). I’ve seen reruns and do not recall her as being all that talented or pretty, so the radio program had my attention.
It turns out she was another spoiled brat with a tale of woe. Her father was an actor, which to me explains her career. It’s the same old, mother suffers depression (ho-hum), father emotionally abusive (whatever the hell that is) and never at home. What a laugh, if the old man was abusive, then it’s good he was never at home, do I have to teach them everything? She grew up in a Hollywood mansion surrounded by temptation and sex, poor thing. But, here it comes, she was determined to succeed and guess what field of work she chose?
She worked tireless to make a name for herself, I guess she forgot her father had already done that. She was a sexual victim to some of the most powerful men in Hollywood, but apparently that was not enough to make her switch to a career in pipe-fitting. She bravely fought on, they say, despite sexual advances and lewd comments, the presumption is this would not have happened to her if she paraded around in the same skimpy outfits at the pipe-fitters convention.
To continue, she starts marrying a string of producers and actors who, to her surprise it would seem, were philanderers and control freaks. She really did learn nothing from her father. Of course, she numbed the pain with pills and booze. I finally figured she had suffered enough so I turned the radio off. She gets no extra credit from me for suffering the same things others did who still managed to get by without all the drama. She wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in my surroundings.
England has a new king and by the looks of it, the most unpopular in history. He’s naively attached himself to idiot causes like gay “rights” and climate change. Besides being borderline ugly, his demeanor is that of mama’s boy, which he certainly is. The ceremony was a farce as police arrested people for protesting, something they have a right to do in England. Now you know why I like reading about capacitors.
Meanwhile, the mayor of the sanctuary city of Chicago is pleading with Texas to quit sending illegal immigrants there. It’s dangerous and inhumane, she says. Funny, she never said anything when it was somebody else who had to deal with it. A growingly desperate Fox network tried hiring Geraldo Rivera to replace Tucker. As ratings plummeted, they had to fire old Geraldo before his first episode.
Built-in refrigerator.
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Here’s as far as I got. The paneling is up over the new rafters but not fastened down. A couple spots need trimming before that. And a tarp is thrown over in case. Accuweather says a few more days of sunshine means I’ll get it finished. Soon after that, I want that air compressor connected, you see, because it is already outside, the hoses are always in the way. This tilted picture is the best view I have of the progress. Only every second rafter is secured but I think my growing experience at these things is visible. Not that I don’t trust the weather report, I also moved the other panel up under the laundry canopy.
I skipped Karaoke tonight. That Hopkin tune “Goodbye” is still echoing in my head and the bass line to Yoakum’s “When I Cry” fights back every time I try to play it. I do an innovative walk-down from the 6th and it clashes with my years of not doing that to effect smooth chord changes. Why such a challenge? Because the walk-down takes place into the chord which does not happen until the upcoming measure. Normally an amateur mistake, the old brain tries to correct it, and there is always a danger in practicing a mistake.
Let’s see what topics get my attention until I’m tired. A couple hours of reading, you see, the work done today involved a lot of something I can’t do well any more. Namely, work with my arms in the air. By 4:00PM most of the time meant climbing on saw ponies to get high enough to drill pilot holes, since when either of my arms is at maximum lift, I can’t work a drill or hammer. Your turn is coming. I had to keep the jar of peach tea beside me the last hour. I ran out of clips.
A few companies are still looking at thorium as an alternative fuel to uranium. It tricky to find documentaries that don’t go on about climate change, and even then too many narrators have that super-annoying soi-boi accent. Next I watch a colorized version of the Hindenburg incident and I believe it was hit in the tale section by an incendiary bullet. Somebody nearby, goes the speculation, hated Germans for killing so many American boys, who really had no business being over there. The bullet hit just ahead of the tail fins, the pattern of the flames leaves little doubt cause was not natural.
Inventory of my resistors shows I have only four sizes in bulk. That’s 220, 330, 1000, and 22000. The small ones are great for having LEDs at their brightest, the largest I rarely use. Another coincidence is how all the supply houses began shutting down around the time I got into the hobby. Years later, I’m still more likely to build a single simple circuit to see it work than to build something useful. Right now, I’m trying to figure a way to make a latch, a switch that stays on after you tap it once. It’s something most people never give a second thought.
A couple podcasts on lottery winners would give the impression that showing ID to win is just a rule. Nope, the lottery people are beyond fanatics about getting the identity of the winner on file. The stories told were all about how some people tried to get lawyers and trusts in an effort to stay anonymous, but the true story is far more complicated. The lottery has links to private law firms, the FBI, the IRS, and foreign governments. One could understand them wanting the winners information, but not their bizarre mechanisms to ensure that person cannot remain anonymous for any reason, far beyond merely knowing the correct winner. I was shocked at how deep this goes, it is top to bottom in the lottery game.
In a link from there, I found the three rules of counterfeiting:
ADDENDUM1) Never tell anyone.
2) Never spend counterfeit, only sell it.
3) Never be greedy.
I say the Brooks trial should result in another change in the system. Just like Miranda means the police must inform you of your right to remain silent AND stop questioning you, the Brooks right should mean a jury is informed it can override the Judge. Here’s a link to an excellent description of Fresnel lenses though you will learn about lighthouse paint in the process.
