One year ago today: July 25, 2022, half the pipe.
Five years ago today: July 25, 2018, have you checked on-line?
Nine years ago today: July 25, 2014, the band lacks management.
Random years ago today: July 25, 2010, prohibited in England.
Look what I scored for $15. that’s somewhat less than half price. It’s a 4.5 Amp 4290, about half again as powerful as the one that sheared a pin. I know there is always something wrong when a tool is donated, but I can’t find it. I will. I was in the Thrift this morning and they finally got a crossword I could not do in the time it takes. In nearly an hour, I got a third of it, so asked them to put it on ice until next time. I always do better after things melt a big, such as “French season.” The answer is “sel” for salt. Good morning, she’s another inferno but I feel like getting after something. It’s a deathly dead calm so that might amount to watering the plants.
Greg was the name of his guitar pal. If I recall Greg humors the guy a bit by playing along and jamming but has no intention of teaming up with Frets as a band. Frets has finally decided we should meet up, but all three of us. This is not unheard of in people I’ve jammed with—and I could never remember everyone that could be. If they play lead and have heard me play bass, they will bring along a rhythm player. There could be several reasons it happens often, I’ll choose the one most flattering. In brief, they have seen how I will take over rhythm on the bass when they start soloing instead of strumming. I got ten bucks says I’ll recognize this guy when I see him.
The audiobook,”Killing Rommel” has finally picked up. There are combat narratives that would unnerve many readers, but they are accurate to a fault. These are not Hollywood scripts and it was worth the four or five boring disks to get up to it. They’ve scrambled their trucks up an escarpment just ahead of their foe who have something the Brits never built well—heavy, cannon-equipped 8-wheel-drive armored cars. One of these present was enough to turn many a small fire-fight into a rout. Eerily precise are the descriptions of the weapon operation.
Example, the twin Lewis guns were designed for aircraft installation, where they could put a lot of weight on target. When used on the ground, the muzzle blast kicked up its own windstorm, tearing tarps and camouflage aside, with tornadoes of dust. The Germans knew the guns were inaccurate and often parked within range to tempt the Brits to open and reveal their positions. Also, more Germans spoke spoke English than the other way, and often could shout phrases without accents. “Come on down for tea,” was common. Hence, British passwords were often words Germans can’t pronounce well, such as “squirrel”.
They get the weather right, such as the flash flood. Often the rain is miles away and you hear nothing. The flood is on you in a matter of seconds, they come down channels called “wadi” and kill. The patrol lost two men and two trucks in a wink, often the only warning of the floods would be a short roaring sound and a blast of wind. Yet, because of the terrain and German patrol aircraft, the wadis were often the only place to stay out of sight.
I have a small rear view mirror on my desk which faces away from the window. Didn’t I tell you about this? Anyway, turning around spooks the birds, so the mirror lets me watch the antics. It is bang on 90°F out there. If a wind picks up, even a breeze, I’ll get mobile. Right now, time to play out “Tequila Sunrise”. Both guitar players are silent today, meaning they don’t know I use such down times to make things work right on the bass.
Italian fat beauty contest.
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The morning was consumed by logistics, including some document I had to mail postmarked from the next county. For reasons, and those reasons are because I hate how bureaucrats think. So, let’s take a break and leaf through the booklets from the hillbilly. There are five booklets, published between 1955 and 1958. Prices are about 1/20th of today and the illustrations are reminiscent of “Archie” comics. In two moments I could see all but the simplest projects are beyond my level. All presume you have mastered installing hardware.
Later, yep, the plans all suppose you had taken some shop courses and that is something I missed. That’s a different tale from the trailer court, but one has to be careful. If you forget the past, you are in danger of repeating mistakes, if you remember the past, there will always be some numbskull to say you need therapy. Well, I don’t see how missing out on shop is going to be changed by talking to a shrink, but the numbskull contingent is well-represented in America.
It’s now 4:00PM and zero wind. I was expected a wild rainstorm out of Tampa. Instead we get the doldrums and I’m going out there to do some work. The slightly increased work time for me has all the plus marks, for instance my belt now needs tightening another notch. This is not weight loss, I’ve failed at that for twenty years this December. That reminds me, this is the big week for the Reb. I’ll go only as far as to say many overdue matters got accelerated when I re-appeared, although I take zero credit other than being a timely reminder.
Ha, a breeze, talk to you later. Sorry to Mr. Red, who has learned to associate the bass sound with safe feeding. The squirrels avoid the sound knowing I’m nearby, but the cardinals I think may be picking up on other sounds, such as the music I play along with. Either way, they know it is snack time, but I have to get out there today to show some progress.
Tuesday is Gunsmoke night and none of the offerings were adequate, so we switched to Wagon Train. Since I’m seeing this stuff for the first time, there is no element of nostalgia when I say the old Hollywood is much better than the new. If you allow for the emoting, much of the acting is quite good. It was an episode about Chief Storm Cloud (?) being insulted by the wife of the Colonel and she winds up getting shot trying to apologize. The hillbilly was an hour late, so the planned movie “El Dorado” was shelved. He finally showed up, covered with dust from his day job.
Here’s the next tale from the trailer court. I got the inside story on his disappearance on Sunday. I had looked over my shoulder and seen a mother, kind of 40-ish, and her daughter. Not the prettiest thing, but nubile for sure. The hillbilly being the same age group as the mother, wisely stepped back. Here’s where it gets interesting, he recalled the many times I’ve told him how to go about getting the goods the easy way. He applied them.
Trust me, I know how difficult it is to hold back while surrounding men detect she’s receptive and you are making headway. He held his horses and within the half-hour she was fondling him. Now he’s a believer and the difficulty with having the mother in the same bar explains why he disappeared about the time he did. All he did was shut up and let her do the talking. Works for me, always has.
