One year ago today: January 5, 2023, millenialized stopwatch.
Five years ago today: January 5, 2019, gimp keys.
Nine years ago today: January 5, 2015, meet Diane, seven kids.
Random years ago today: January 5, 2004, majority rules on Mars.
Due to policy and mild superstition, I record how many days a year I don’t get out of the house. One was y’day, and it was cold. The only news is Phineas Fogg is now across the Pacific, with the detective Fix in tow. From other exactitudes, we know Fogg actually is on to Fix. The tale now has enough mileage to look back on it from a non-English lens, to spot historical nuances not visible from up close at the time. A good example is the vivid details of India, while Africa and Japan are barely mentioned It’s by reference easy to tell a lot of these places knew their systems had been rotten for a thousand years. They saw America, barely past the Wild West era, as still being the “back in civilization” destination for the whole world, including Phineas.
This will be a good day, once the Sun arrives, blame part of the long hours under the covers as due to that electric blanket. Downtown and back got me out of the house. Here’s something from Wal*Mart, record players. Yep, good old vinyl. And they want the original prices of around $20 per album for these re-releases. There is a sticker in the corner touting the record is clear plastic. As for the phonographs, known as record players, they are cheap as hell in quality with the only really new feature being Bluetooth speakers. I see this computer has auto-deleted the Windows picture viewer when I installed OpenOffice. I told you millennials were AOLs.
It was so slow going downtown that I stopped at the old coffee shop and worked the crossword. Old Elon has fnallly found his name in there. All the staff is new and horribly overweight. Today I learned the difference between the cheap Micro & C cables and the expensive one is charging time. I know the Dollar Tree type took overnight, but just accepted that as normal, and now I’m adjusted to that.
The van radio was on, capitalized by Tamp woketard stations. The Leftists and Democrats are stymied by Trump’s unstoppable success, stunned that their old political tricks do not work on him. Their latest tactic is claiming that just like Biden, Trump made money from overseas during his Presidency. Yes, but everybody knows Trump was a legitimate business man with actual real investments before during and after. The Left has to carefully sidestep that issue with old Joe.
Next JZ called, I tell you that is one guy who cannot stand Lady Gaga. I’m indifferent because I do not know her or even much what she looks like. I told you, I don’t watch TV. But I feel about the same with that Madonna, so I can relate. Who I do know is Taylor, who has unseated Elvis as the top-selling Rock-n-Roll artist of all time. It’s an unfair comparison, but when you think about it, the unfairness balances out. Where Elvis had a free hand establishing a totally new market, albeit a smaller one, Swift had a larger market for sure, but it was already beyond saturated. Another uniqueness about Swift (who now is offically a billionaire) is that she did not sideline by endorsing products—and I admire that.
JZ is more aware of finances here and was floored by news of the Civic collision. It cancels the potential visit to Miami this month, but there is the annual pancake breakfast in Punta Gorda he may attend. If not, Alaine rarely misses it. She’s got the right idea, one project or event per day. I’ll contact for the right day and I’d like to tour the doggie kennel again. Did you know it’s on my planner that if I ever strike it rich, I have provisions to feed twenty doggies at the pound every day. Going there is always a gamble for me as one day I may find the doggie that connects telepathically. You know darn well that is not some wild myth.
Wichita Falls Ugliest Tattoo Contenst.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
Hang on, it is 1:00PM feeding time and Mrs. Red is putting up one heck of a racket. Moments later, I’m back and I see the fancy feeder is empty. I’ll get on it, but I filled that a week ago and it holds ten days. Do we have a squirrel back, they’ve largely been absent for nearly a month. The feeder is hailed as squirrel-proof, which works on gravity. My suspicion is the smaller baby squirrels may have found a way with that. At 3:00PM I’ve scheduled the burning barrel, which always attracts the rodent where I can see and hear them. Let’s keep our eyes peeled.
It was a two-beer fire as I repositioned one of the fenceposts. I did that because it was a chore I could do while watching the barrel. It was ideal since at this temperature the mosquitoes don’t come out after dark. The post was so solid I had to use mechanics to get it out of the ground. What? Okay, you nail a block to the post just off the ground and put a car jack under the block and pry up the post. I’ve also begun a cleanup of the doggie pen which will require around ten hours labor. It would have been a three-beer but I put the case in the fridge backwards and only though I had that many.
I visited Thailand in the 80s when it was still Thailand. Now the same tourist erosion is extending into the eastern Mexican jungle. I lamented the changes in Merida, now the Mexican government has spent billions running a rail line directly into Tulum, Palenque, and Uxmal. They will become nothing but titty bars and drug dens within three years. If my hand-written diaries are ever posted, you will hear the tales from the trailer court how I walked into the jungle, and took 100 mile taxi rides to see what is about to become tourist traps.
The feature that struck me most is the absolute flat terrain. No rivers, no hills, nothing, as far as you can see for hours. This picture show clearing the roadbed for the railway tracks. I recognize that scrub jungle in this photo because I walked through it. If I had stayed working for the corporation, I would have retired in Merida. Now, I’m glad I did not. First, it is Mexico, and second, it isn’t Merida any more. At least not the $14 per week hotel I was at across from the University which had no roof. Didn’t need one, it never rains. Sadly, the photos of the time, 1983 to 1987, have gone missing as I’ve changed addresses sixteen times since then.
Later, yep, I went downtown over in Bartow. Wilford was on duty, so we spent a lot of time cracking up about the crowd and such. They have this pizza baking machine that works in two shifts, though he’s wise enough to order his from next door. You recall Wilford as my old guitar player who did not pan out. He knows the reasons why, and having been exposed to my perspectives, we can joke about the crowd and the band in some pretty severe manners. There was no band tonight, but he knows I still like noise and sound of a good crowd. Plus, somebody was playing Cash and Waylon on the juke box.
Other than some fat broad half my age checking me out, it was married couples. So I dragged out my notebook and ran some calcs by hand. Caltier again, that account is mean to accumulate toward a goal. That is, each monthly return reduces the amount I budget to commit. It’s complicated, but a method I enjoy, It’s one of many calculations of today. For instance, those tiny 1 lb. Propane canisters now cost nearly $10 a pair, the normal purchase side. Based on the last week, heating my bedroom by consuming this fuel would cost $600 per month. I pity anyone who lives too far north.
The fat broad (it is now past 10:00PM) is no longer flicking her hair on me (nice hair by the way) but now swatting me with it, I decided to leave. I picked up a half-sack of Yueng-Ling in anticpation of how the fire barrel might still contain embers tomorrow morning. Back home I decided on a mackeral sandwich, a fish I prefer oer sardines. Good choice and healthy as it gets.
ADDENDUM
The radio scan caught a Tampa station doing a survey on which decade had the better music, the 80s or the 90s. I paused on that frequency for an hour, as I have opinions upon that. What struck me was number of callers born in the 90s who chose the 80s, and their reasons for it. They used other words, but a general mood was that the 80s music sounded more natural, was happier, and relateable. What gave me a slap awake was the number of people who pointed out the music sounded brand new, actually newer than what’s on the charts today. I’ve documented how bad current artists are are any fast, fun music. If these callers and myself share an opion, they may be parallel on this reasoning.
I disagree the the 90s had better rock bands for good reason. I’ve played music long enough to see several marks rise and fall. One way I know a type is past its prime is when the pioneers taper off and the settlers move in. Rock rose from the 60s to the 80s, but by the 90s, the music was being produced not by innovators, but people who had “studied” the mode and were rolling off hits that, to me anyway, sound like strung together clichés. That would be Pearl Jam and Nirvana, I like the parts of some of their tunes that have the clichés I recognize. This is why Blues faded for me forty years ago, it is well past the max rubber stamp phase and most novelty now comes not from the artist, but the studio mixer.
