One year ago today: May 25, 2023, riding the gyre.
Five years ago today: May 25, 2019, I’d listen to it.
Nine years ago today: May 25, 2015, we’ve done with Deland.
Random years ago today: May 25, 2016, women in cowboy jeans.
Off to a late start, I got millennialized first thing in the morning. So I hopped in the van for a trip to the southwest, I’m just getting out of the house now. What happened? My damn phone again, it would not hang up. I’m expecting a call from the shop, but first checking in on JZ and the smart phone went into that mode where to get out you have to press 1, but no way to get the keypad to display. Part of the snag is that I have computer experience and know how things are suppose to work, and no, I’m not going to get my IQ lowered just to operate XYZ menus. Check back later and see where we wind up.
The back roads leg most to my old motorcycle paths. Florida roads usually have curves only to get around the sinkholes they call lakes. How do we know it is a hole and not a lake? No creek or other water source in or out. And the roadways end in a T intersection miles from the nearest town, no services, no signs, no people. The area southwest of here is, except for far-flung farmhouses, mostly uninhabited. It all belongs to somebody, but there are big areas of natural growth left, especially near any rivers. Every tree grows to 40 feet tall and stops.
A quarter tank of gas, and since I wanted to enjoy the trip, I had all the van windows down and no Gore Vidal on the audio. Travel in these parts of Florida can be a challenge if you don’t speak Spanish. This area was hit hard by the Mediterranean fruit flies and citrus greening. It’s recovering but if you look closely at this photo, you can see the devastation. Twigs and branches of dead orange trees. This jaunt was my old motorcycle format, do everything outbound and a quick high-tail back, again, not one pretty gal in sight. If they exist in Florida, they don’t get off at your bus stop.
The news report confirms it was a Raptor engine explosion over at SpaceX. As discussed here, these engines get their super-boost from turning the liquid propellants into a gaseous mix before ignition. And gas has a tendency to seep wherever it can and cause trouble. Kind of like liberals in the civil service.
Museum, in Majorca.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
That was a call from Tennessee, the big doggie has a sore paw as of last evening. Well of course, after our regular vet is closed for the weekend. In he goes, now you know why I allocated that $750 that should have gone to Caltier. And I’m having third thoughts as they [Caltier] still remain “paused” which is a business term I am most unfamiliar with. I had a batch of mail and as you know critical letters are not mailed locally—and occasionally there is also a faked letter just to test the system. Honest governments don’t need to track your every letter, search, or click.
I was home by 11:30AM, a pleasant trip. I mailed JZ a copy of my bull’s-eye target practice with the new BB gun. It is a quarter the weight of the pellet gun, which is designed to kill varmints with one pump. The Crosman is also small scale, so I can take pot-shots out the open window like a true hillbilly into my squirrel-free back yard. And would you just look at what some disrespectful person on the Internet is selling for target practice. He’s probably thinking things like what you see when you have a gun. Poor old Joe, just trying to put food on his family’s table.
Another hundred tubes and I called it a day. The whole place is airconditioned full blast making it too comfy to consider stepping outside for long. Then, I didn’t turn in, opting to head over to the old club in Bartow. It’s between paydays so the crowd should be quiet. It was. They have another new barmaid, the only thing Florida never runs out of is middle-aged barmaids.
The regular karaoke guy was there, who got me up for my oldest standby, “Spiders & Snakes” but the tune is now so old many in the audience don’t know it. It began to fade that way around eight years ago, plus my guitar player really does not care for the tune. I did an excellent rendition of the first song I ever really sang, but so what? No audience, no credit.
This was not goof time, I was at the bar mapping out our song list into groups of three. As the Legion is a dance club, I know this grouping works well to get them up. It’s a holdover, I think, from the days of smoking, where they had to squash a butt, as the gal to dance, and by the time they got out on the boards, the song was half over. Well, she wants another full tune, so play three and make them happy. This isn’t just a matter of writing it out. For instance, you need to make sure are not all in the same key, the guitarist doesn’t have to capo, the lyrics are on consecutive pages in the book, and so on. My bands work because I do.
