March 9, 2024

Yesteryear
One year ago today: March 9, 2023, the periwinkles never made it.
Five years ago today: March 9, 2019, never buy the last one.
Nine years ago today: March 9, 2015, porridge, later in life.
Random years ago today: March 9, 2008, my delivery vehicle.

           You may have to wait for this morning’s post. I’ll remind you when it happens. The Hermitage library has finally detuned all the computers to non-work mode. It makes sense when you see their clientele. They get on the library computers to watch cartoons. Hence, all the features that expedite getting any work done have been is disabled. Only a third of the computers are compatible with Word 2003, the last version that ever worked half-right and even those have to be set to the 202003 mode every time you go to save them. All the right-click menus have been changed to remove the really useful shortcuts like “open with”.

           Meanwhile, here is JeePees grand breakfast. This is a four-course turtle meal. Left to right, blueberries, tomato, chicken, and cabbage salad. The salad is a total favorite, followed by the expertly boiled chicken. Not that many turtles get fan mail, progress reports, and have special meals prepared. Tomorrow he gets eggshells and strawberries. In fact, there is the little guy there. He’s out to welcome me home, he’s trained to the ringing sound of a small wind chime beside his home. Took him years to respond but he doesn’t miss a thing these days.
           But not the coffee. That’s mine. Hands off. Finding myself weary from the chasing around—plus I had to dress like a bag lady because of the cold. I have one long-sleeve shirt left and it was in the suitcase I forgot on Thursday.

Picture of the day.
German marching band.
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           This planned Saturday outing was a comedy of missed errors and near misses. To give it some flavor other than me being disappointed, here are some photos from the day. We opted for a movie, but no DVD player so I zipped up to Wal*mart for an ONN el-cheapo. It lasted one movie, but that was “Blow”, the story of the original hippies that went from pot to cocaine, flying it in by the ton before the Feds caught them. Amazingly, they were given short sentences and it’s like prostitution. When they get a fine or lost any time, there is only one way they can get the money to pay. Anyway, the fat guy in this picture we could not place. All the names I knew, (Farly, Candy, Black) kept blocking this actor on me—turns out he has a name I definitely did not know. Ethan Suplee.

                      The other picture is my other specialty, French toast. I finally said to heck with the mushroom coffee and drove to Kroger’s for the real thing. This recipe has no butter, what you see here is veggie except for the egg, the oil is avocado or grape, honestly they taste the same to me. The boys and I then settled I for a nap, it’s going to be a long afternoon.

           I got 99% of the chores done and all the pets bedded down. Then, I headed out for my one planned break on this trip, a meet-up with the Kaiser at Phat Bites. It is so great to talk to somebody from out west who has a brain. That would not apply to the staff at that night spot. It has two room, the jazz room and the saloon next alongside. I got there twenty minutes early and asked both bartenders if they had seen him. Nope, and everybody there know him for years. He must, I figured, be caught in the Nashville traffic.

           An hour goes by, so by then I’ve been back to the bar for two beers, that’s around my schedule, nothing. I had a table in the jazz room right by the door, I looked up at every person who came in. Since we’ve never me in the saloon, I only checked when I went for more beer. Nothing. During this time, I listened to full jam sets, that’s the formula at Bites. They present three entertainers at a time, so in Nashville that means three guitar players who sing. Although most of the men lack originality and women don’t seem to know that Nana Mouskouri thing has already been done, the standards are very, very high. I could never hold a candle to the worst guitarist I’ve ever seen in that place.

           However, no Kaiser, so I headed on home to watch a movie on my new DVD player. After I get settled in, I get a text. He was around the corner of the saloon by the east entrance, watching for me. So we must have looked right past each other at least four times—and the staff never mentioned we were both there despite knowing we were looking. No, it was not that busy. If the wall was not there, we would be maybe fifteen feet apart. Alas, I’m planning to leave town early tomorrow morning.

Last Laugh