March 6, 2024
Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 6, 2023, the last decent one.
Five years ago today: March 6, 2019, a grumpy day.
Nine years ago today: March 6, 2015, not a blues bassist.
Random years ago today: March 6, 2004, great cook, lousy coffee.
Wow, has Gab fallen off the cliff. From the top free speech site to a shadow of itself. All over money, the one thing the “Christian owner” said was not his priority. It worked like so, anybody could log on to the basic service and post text and pictures. Those pictures rapidly became the premier source for memes, particular political digs. On Gab, you can become a “pro” member with a paid account, but those people were hardly the lure for the masses. Who even likes people that have to pay to get any one to listen to them.
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I posted mostly snarky comments with an anti-liberal message and got 20,000 views.
The owner, who I call Torbie, decided those memes were taking up too much memory space. He had many options, the best in my opinion would be deleting them after 30 days. After all, most politicl memes are here-and-now. Instead, he removes the option to post pictures except to paid members. The collapse in quality was instant. By March 2, the caliber of the posts dropped from top-notch to near monotony.
Here’ s the photo I was looking for. This is at the Citrus Tower last
January, where I took this picture. It didn’t work out, catching my reflection, but I remembered trying to photograph some of the tubes in the carillon machine. I remembered this typical “six tube” arrangement. Three tubes to rectify and smooth the AC current, and three tubes to amplify the sound. I’ve learned a lot.
I spent the day collecting everything for my trip, could be as soon as this weekend. One blog rule says I must record any medical events, so I don’t know abou this one. I’m moving a few things to the van and right in the middle of my back, a stab of pain. Nothing like it in my life, it was on the surface so I know I wasn’t the victim of a drive-by. No impact, but like many times the pain of an insect bite. I got inside to a mirror and not a sign, no marks, no nothing. All just faded away. Now, what do you make of that? Alien laser beams? Giant invisible mosquitoes?
It seems both our old eBay accounts have expired, leaving the only way to receive money as Venmo, which is not a sales operation. JZ called for an update and gave me hell for spending so much on vet bills. I’ve mentioned them in other correspondence and then he sees the pictures of the gig last weekend still playing my “old” bass. Somebody tell this guy it doesn’t work that way. I was also wearing an old shirt and need a haircut. Anyway, he totaled up the vet bills since 2019 and yep, nearly $3,500. He’s got a point.
Picture of the day.
One thousand hp truck motor.
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If you are reading this, I should be crossing the border into Georgia (on the 7th, remember, the blog is posted a day behind). The chosen audiobook for this trip is a Cussler tale, “Black Wind”. I’ve mentioned the plot with the Japanese seaplane submarines. I like the attention to detail, plus the story takes place in an around Seattle, so I know where everything is. The hero is Dirk, who I can identify with in thinking and the way he operates, except I”m not 6-foot-4 and 200 pounds. And I don’t date women because they are in my line of work, similar in age, or pretend they like everything I do. He’s just drowned two Korean assassins and burned the motor out of a vintage car.
I skipped the jam session again tonight, I've little interest in playing for freebies for a place I hope one day to get paid. Let's call it a day, I'm triple zonked.
Last Laugh
