One year ago today: March 12, 2024, Mafia-owned.
Five years ago today: March 12, 2020, I again attempt solo.
Nine years ago today: March 12, 2016, win the lotto first.
Random years ago today: March 12, 2007, I adopt a cat.
Caltier paid its 40th consecutive dividend, last month a lousy $12.79. This is why I advice investment be kept separate from other affairs. This could be a slow time, although I can’t see it as the disbursements come mainly from rental income. And there has been no severe decline in the millions of Americans who are now compelled to rent. This represents something like 0.05% ROI this month but such are the vagaries of the market place. Silver inched over $33. Here’s something interesting, my records show I own an ounce of gold, purchased for $1,480 on April 2, 2013.
There also appear to be some gold grams on the books, I vaguely remember buying four of those. They would be worth $95 each today, still the same purchasing power of roughly two tanks of gas. The big question is do I have that ounce of gold? Check back later, even though I base little on total readership, it’s nice to know somebody is rewarding my efforts. And the DVD movie “Andromeda”. Don’t bother. It really sucks.
Later, nope. I remember selling that ounce of gold simply because it could not be used as currency, nobody has enough change. Here are some silver grams, these would be worth about a dollar each today. I finally dug up the silver and took inventory. I do not have the gold piece, but I do have four grams of gold and a small pile of silver. See addendum.
Tariffs. Most interesting, as the US has been bankrolling foreign competition for a long time. And Trump wants to end it. My take is that he is not serious about the tariffs at this point, but using them as a threat to bring bad dealers into line. It seems to be working. I needed some hardware to fix the floor joists. I’m going to attach 2x4s along the sides, known as scabbing.
Thinking to take the scenic route back, I drove south to the SR664 exit. Millennialized. A sign 15 miles down the trail saying road closed. Welcome to the generation who thinks they can operate this system. What ass-clowns, but as long as they have entitlement gas and entitlement cars, what’s 15 miles and ah hour of your time. Oh, they love to blame it on the Boomers, but the fact is every generation has the same intensity of challenges to get ahead. The difference is until now, each generation dealt with it. These millennials did not, they found it easier to point fingers. It is their own ineptitude and poor performance that is coming back to haunt them.
Some sad news for our hillbilly helper. The system has changed, it is no longer possible to send money to a prisoner’s commissary without picture ID. Cash money direct, I could understand, but commissary? The new law is quite clear. Only those on each inmate’s authorized list can even make contact, and such contact is indirect. For instance, letters only (no cards, bubble wrap, metal parts, or packaging. The letter must be USPS sent to Tampa and written only in English, Spanish, or Creole. All mail is opened, examined, and read. It is then scanned, including mail that is rejected and returned. Magazines are not allowed. Looks like America has gone full medieval, but there are reasons for it.
Utah. I think.
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While I’m driving, I’m planning that floor. Here is a video of the part that worried me. Don’t worry about the old siding, it is open to keep the wood dry. It is that long 2x8 across the concrete blocks. It is holding up the header plate for the joists on the other side. I must replace this piece of lumber, but how. To do that the floor must be lifted, and I don’t dare lift that rotten piece or it will crumble.
It was a cheese burger with fries, my all-time favorite. Big portions. And as I entered, I got the look from this blonde lady, threw me a bit. I’m no prize as I hobble along these days, but then, maybe they don’t get that many strangers in gown. I’d place her late forties, but with an earlier fashion, what the movies used to call a “willowy blonde”. And she was wearing her sexy shorts, lots of still firmulent leg on display. But she was sitting with a couple who were definitely now the approachable type. I munched down my burger, told off a telemarketer, and drove back to Mulberry.
This is kind of my report for the day. I stopped at a Thrift and found an excellent octobox, and was about to leave when they wanted $4. I got it for $1.50 but the point is the lady behind the counter kept asking other clerks for help, explaining that I said it was too expensive or that I didn’t have the money. I corrected her around five times, lady, I did not say that. I said that is the full retail price at the lumber yard. What an ass insinuating I was too broke. On the other hand I was in there to conserve. Biden has wiped out half my retirement.
I tend to side with certain leftist viewpoints, but rarely their methods. For example, I feel there is enough in America to go around that anybody who wants to work should be able to have a comfortable and debt-free life. Instead, we still have millions of drudge poor-paying jobs, 40 hour work weeks, and crushing debts. These things are not natural, somebody creates them. But at the same time, nobody should be forced to pay for more than their share of what they use. Instead of families paying the least taxes, it should be the single man—but the way the system is set, most people could not agree with that.
ADDENDUM
Here are some size comparisons for those who have never seen real silver ingots. These are the most popular sizes for investors, remember my warning against buy silver rounds, in particular those stamped with any face value. Left to right are a 10 oz bad, then a 5 oz, and last the one you want, the 1 ounce ingot. Today $33.42, around a third of what it should cost according to traditional ratios.
The bars are typically 10% to 15% overweight according to my postal scale. There is a reason, I’m sure. Did I just say “firmulent”?
