One year ago today: December 16, 2024, paint drying, whee!
Five years ago today: December 16, 2020, some guy named Joe.
Nine years ago today: December 16, 2016, there’s my 450.
Random years ago today: December 16, 2003, a step backwards.
What is this piece of gear? It’s and ancient style of electric plug from my old fridge. Too deteriorated to salvage, I’m oiling those three brass lug nut as they make excellent connectors. This is from the days when American meant quality. It is all copper, ceramic, steel, and surprisingly heavy. This kept me occupied because I can’t get the nuts to loosen. So they are soaking. So you’ll know, I spent half the day trying to find a medical appointment. No luck, and other people tell me they are having schedule six weeks into the future. I may have to drive to Miami. Let’s talk music.
Yes, lots of it is crap, guitar player music. The one least liked by me is that bland, boring Lennon tune, “Imagine”. That’s right, just you imagine there are people who just do not like that one. What good is learning all those blah-blah guitar chords if you aren’t going to play as many as you can in one song? I also sent out contact notices to everyone who would need to know if I don’t make it this time. The symptoms remain mild enough, but they are not abating.
So if this blog stops kind of suddenly, it’s been a good life all considered. I know thanks to my putting in the extra effort, I’ve gotten far more than my share—it’s to be expected. I’ve few regrets but I’ve wondered what I might have done with a little help, or a little talent, or a wee bit of a head start. It’s maybe nothing but the head of MIT’s Plasma center was found shot to death in his bed this morning. Who would want to kill the world’s top nuclear fusion scientist?
Today’s only task was measuring out and planning the sound dampen case for the compressor. Enough study tell me that any case is apt to be as good as another. The interior is 32”x32”x20” and I think a series of channels from old pallet rails can serve as the zig-zag path of the air intake and fan outlet. If you stand near the machine, it is those parts were the sound is loudest, not the motor. I can now build boxes with solid joints, I’ll try a single layer of plywood lined with either styro or matting from the Thrift.
You’ve never seen a camera lucida, but I see somebody has made a version out of plastic at a tiny cost compared to the antique models. I’d like to try one as it works on the same principle as my sextant. A half mirror projects a subject as an outline on a sheet of paper, allowing you to trace the image. They say even non-artists like me can produce respectable drawings with a few hours practice. I looked on-line and got only sales pitches, but I’ve considered how it would work with a laser or other connection.
Grand piano floor template.
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We got a few arseholes saying Trump is supposed to be nice about Reiner’s death. The same Reiner with ultimate TDS. The Reiner who supported causes that tried to jail, indict, smear, and assassinate Trump. Trump said basically that it could be expected a household that openly advocated violence and corruption would have serious internal problems as well. My position is that Trump, after what he’s been through, is entitled to whatever he wants about such people. They made themselves his arch-enemies.
Cancel Festus, dang. Turns out the neighbor was invited to the Xmas do over at the Legion and texted me, but my phone presumes you are holding it in your hand and staring at it. So I missed the message and poked around my work shed a bit. Too cold, could have done more but why be uncomfortable? I do not mind the taste of instant coffee and sprung for a $10 jar of Nescafe for the variety. The last time I drank instant regularly was in the Philippines in the mid-80s and the recipe has changed.
By that, I mean if you want the traditional taste of good instant, you have to shell out for Nescafe Gold, shown here. They sell it in regular, but I like it stronger so this is the Espresso. Which I now plan to sip all evening and read my old book on oil tanker designs. Remember that? It’s actually the experimental propulsion ships that interest me, it is a case where you can’t really test the thing until you build it. Both the Japanese and Italians have built prototypes. It looks like none ever saved more than around 10% in fuel. Not enough to justify building new shipyards.
Finally, I finished “Paris Echo” and it is a disappointment nor worth bothering with. The bothersome European pushy style never lets up, but the story ends in thing air. The Algerian body, Tariq, takes an envelope full of money back to some terrorists, and that’s it. Except he finally gets in the shower with his old flame. Since he had been in Paris looking for information about his disappeared grandmother, I figured the link had to be Hannah finding out she was killed by the Nazis. Nope, there is no connection.
I said how time was running out for her to get to the holocaust. What finally happens is she takes a tour bus to a camp set up as a museum. She falls into a trance whereby she dreams she is one of the victims. You are supposed to believe a real victim in communicating telepathically that she was given a drug to numb her, then burned in an oven. As usual, there is no mention of the crimes for which these people were put in prison. This awakens her spiritually and she moves in with her professor.
So the theme, after all, was that 31-year-old frumpy Hannah gets the wealthy professor. Hannah, instead of the 19-year-old coeds who surround him every day. That’s enough fantasy for me for a while.
Next item, I talked with an old friend in Canada as I go through my phone list to tie up loose ends. Man, that place is totally propagandized by the anti-Trumpers. Pretty amazing how solidly they condemn him, “he’s shut down all the duty-free shops”. The border towns are dying, people won’t cross the border unless Trump is assassinated. The Canadian medical system is also in disarray.
The word is that it because it was socialized (taxpayer-funded) for so long it has become so inefficient that there is no chance it can be turned around. Nobody could afford the insurance premiums. And knowing Canada, it is probably illegal for a doctor to start his own practice and bill people directly.
I also chatted with my executor and we’ve agreed to some changes. It has always struck me how completely she trusts the system, yet knows it is corrupt beyond description. She tends to forget things that go wrong as just life, and that I know both systems equally well when I form my opinions. She gave her DNA to Ancestry.com and found out she has dozens of third cousins. I look at it from the point of view of the cousins, some of whom may not have wanted this.
