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Yesteryear

Saturday, November 30, 2024

November 30, 2024

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 30, 2023, coffee-less Eufala.
Five years ago today: November 30, 2019, billiards is boring.
Nine years ago today: November 30, 2015, one hour late.
Random years ago today: November 30, 2002, early investing notes.

           Let's begin today with some investing news. I don't know if it is all that great. Our status with the tax overages business remains 100% in effect. Now there has been a change. No promises, and I have let my skills lapse. A reminder is tax overages are when a property is seized by back taxes by local authorities and sold, any money over the back taxes is due the owner, or in most cases, the heirs. But few people are aware of this provision, much less the hoops needed to go through the application process. The overages business involves finding and getting that money for a 50% commission. But, it turns out that 50% is not enough because many counties make it nearly impossible to collect. And after a varying period, they keep the money. One of the barriers these scum used was to make the refund payable only to the property owner, then lose track of the owner.
           The Supreme Court has ruled they cannot conspire to keep that money any more. But I'll bet you they will still make it a nightmare unless the court further rules otherwise. So, one of the first states to comply is Colorado. I'll take a look. To offset this change is Trump's somewhat weak intention to eliminate all taxes on seniors, including property taxes. Trump is okay, but the civil service is known to foot-drag his directives, and likely the more so on a cash show like tax overages. Check with me in a while to see any developments. Meanwhile the CEO of CocaCola seems to have underestimated the power of social media in calling boycotters a bunch of right-wind nuts. Mind you, many consumers naively switch to alternative products not knowing it is the same parent company.

           In the background, I've been off and on searching for a small digital clock that spells out the time and date. Literally spells it, as in "November 30" not 11-30 etc. Not so easy. The closest I've found is the clock shown in this picture. It has the attractive name of the "Demential Clock" or "Alzheimers Clock", which should convey a lot about the mentality of today's product designers. I want such a clock to avoid confusion on navigation dates. Like many people, I percieve local time as starting at midnight in Greenwhich, but it actually starts 12 hours earlier. It's just an easy mistake to make when reading the Almanac or stopwatch. The problem with this clock? The screen alone is 7" diagonal, much to large to fit in a shirt pocket. If I do spring for a wall clock, I'd opt for this model that automatically resets to atomic time, though I'd likely disable that because it isn't best for navigation, believe it or not. I've tried digital stop watches but they are difficult as hell to use for navigation, the worst feature being confusing button commands. To take, say, two sextant readings, you have to cycle completely around a menu of commands back to where you want to be.
          Here's something to ponder. Gab.com originally had a problem with porno ads, the bane of a site sponsored by religion. Remember how I mentioned I liked the Gab structure, where they owned all their own equipment. Therefore they could not be choked off by Google or Facebook at any protocol layer. They are also able to block postings at the DNS level and they blocked Israel. The whole country. Cured the porno problem instantly, there has not been a single porno post on Gab since May 2023 when they flipped the switch. Gab is silent on how they do it, but they block VPN as well. I never did understand how all that works--but then again, neither do most people who think they do.

           It's frozen outside, so we check the news early today. Didn't the Leftoids say X (Twitter) was going to die on the vine when Musk trimmed the fat? The latest polls show 85% of influencers are on X, which kind of says it all. I glanced through his book on SpaceX titled "Re-Entry" and decided against it. Reason? It is not a book about the space program but page after page of the for-the-most-part boring people who work there. I want to know when we go to Mars, I don't care who's mother died in Bulgaria or who turned 40. I was at the bookstore because it is next to Best Buy, where I got a new GPS. It's another Garmin and I can't get it to acquire the satellites.
           The nation gears up for the expulsion of the illegals. If they are wise, they will not resist. Many are concerned they will clog up the court system with appeals. The solution is to disbar any lawyer who files an appeal for an illegal. Aiding illegals is against the law.

Picture of the day.
November, 2002.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           The Reb was only home an hour or two. Tech difficulties at the studio, plus the pedal steel player can't show up until this afternoon. He's also somebody new that nobody has worked with before. But honestly, recording is one of my least interested topics, so let's move on. I also flipped through this month's Mechanics Illustrated and no way I'm paying $16 for that. The store had zero books or magazines on electronics or robotics. So much for our advancing society. I want to do a bit more reading on set-reset latches at the theoretical level, but found nothing. I could always build some, nothing solidifies such learning as a working model.
           I got the Garmin home and was able to link to the satellites by trial and error. There was, in the end, no instructions and the device did not work automatically. Most frustrating is the problem is not mentioned and there is no screen display for the situation. Of course, you can't complain to Garmin because they'll insinuate you lack computer skills. They would never grasp the problem is that you actually know how things are supposed to work. The unit is showing the same inaccurate mileages of the first unit. It displays the air distance, then the road mileage once calculated. But it adds too many miles, trust me, I know doorstep to doorstep via Soddy-Daisy and Valdosta is 745 miles by now.

           I don't know Gigi, but her posts regularly pass my filters. She thinks like I do, so she's sane and stable, the opposite of my detractors. Today she posted a good one bashing the people who claim Aemrica's 40 million cow farts are killing the climate. How come, she asks, that was not a problem in 1800 when there were 60 million buffalo?

ADDENDUM
           Quite late and after lights out, the doggie was restless. He was already walke by the Reb, but I harnessed him up for another twenty-minute romp. This settled him down, but not me. I hopped in the van and went over to Shooters. Where that lady who gets all dressed up for the snow cornered me into "Jackson". It was a show stopper, but I then retired to the far corner to write a bit. Ho such luck, she collected my promo pack, contact info, and convinced me Jimmy Buffet's "Pirate Looks At Forty" was a duet. It isn't, but she did a remarkable job of harmonizing and what a party that was. Free drinks, and for me, a rather decent gal showed a lot of interest. She was over forty and folks, Nashville is no place to get picky. However I was put off by how she said she had been watching me write--long enough for me to wonder why she chose now to make an approach. My alarms went off--but she is definitely a looker.

           It was not planned or deliberate, but the show turned country once we got underway, this fancy dressed lady and I. Before us was a string of crooners doing these laid-back Blues and Broadway tunes. Putting the audience to sleep. I tend to presume those who got into Karaoke before me had a big head start and should know better than to musically plod along on a Saturday night. The ones tonight were especially bad. But, since the gal knew the DJ and I was invited up every tune. There was actually one good-looking gal in the room. One.
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