February 27, 2026

Yesteryear
Yesteryear
One year ago today: February 27, 2025, another 12 y.o. “genius”.
Five years ago today: February 27, 2021, yet another guitarist.
Nine years ago today: February 27, 2017, “entertainment radio”.
Random years ago today: February 27, 2003,10th “last date” anniversary.

           Good morning, but that’s not to mislead anyone that I’m back to par. I’m back to coffee and grits, homestyle, and that is it for a while. My big plan for the day is to refill the birdfeeders and count some lumber. One super-issue for me was finances since I’ve been away, but I was with my banker for an hour and we are going to try a different system which should work—except I won’t know the exchange rates until weeks afterward. As ever, I’ll adapt to that, for the moment, it is coffee and birdseed.

           The option to sleep all night long is already getting results. Maybe I’ll unload the van and do a load of laundry. That last chore is overdue, I took only enough for a week away. I have not stepped on a scale but I’ve lost 8 – 10 pounds. And this morning brought a return of wobbly balance and poor appetite. We are not out of the weeds yet. When I say I’m fine, I mean sitting down or making coffee.
           Checking the yard, I see there was a severe drought during my absence. Even some cactus has died off and the birdbath area that catches the spill has completely dessicated.

           I’d love to hop in the KIA for a drive in the countryside, but that is forbidden. I’m also strapped to the portable fibrillator. It’s to prevent a heart attack, though I am hoping they conclude short of the six-month estimated time that after this my heart is actually quite well. This generic photo shows the transmitter and it is twice as heavy as it looks.
In my office, the cot and chair are one step apart and this makes for wonderfully beneficial rest. I can throw on any of my favorite documentaries and crash. Today, I took a closer look at the German side of the north

           African battles against the Americans approaching from the west. German humor can be hard to follow, but there is no doubt some were laughing their asses off at the Yanks. Time after time, they would see the mass of American tanks approaching with the commanders on the turrets.
           The Germans would fire a few shells into the air, causing the Americans to duck back in the turrets, reducing their visibility to nothing. Then begin picking off the toy US tanks until the rest turned tail. I have yet to see any Allied footage of this going on.

           I bought this book at the Thrift, thinking it would focus on issues like inflation and wars, but it was mostly about media idiots. While I recognized almost all the topics, I could not place 2/3rds of the people. I know Michael Jackson and Howard Stern because they are freaks, and Gloria Steinem because so many outspoken 6’s have the same bark, but who are Al Franken and John Green? One thing I know is they didn’t make their money by working for it, or I would have some idea who they were.
           My conclusion is most people in this book are loudmouths who caught media attention for getting things backwards, screwing up facts, or being a majority at some ivory tower schools. I think this book is like the Jeopardy game show. Unless you spend inordinate amounts of time watching TV and paying attention to other people’s lives, you will not go anywhere with this. Strangely, even if you do know all these people, you will still not go anywhere.

Picture of the day.
Most popular US non-coffees.
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           Here is a view of a model wearing the chest strap, which I call the sports bra. It presses some sensors and two metal cases against the back and front. Rumor is the unit can kick-start your ticker. The apparatus is real time, it sends alarms and alerts for any interruptions. It is well-designed and comfortable. Surprisingly easy to sleep while attached but too heavy to leave long on the belt clip as depicted here.

           When I look back on the week since I got out, the most restful time was going to the movies alone. That is the first in at least ten years without the Reb andI psychological realize I thought she was there. You know, there is that big movie plaza just a short drive from here. I’m thinking.
           Later, what crap they are showing. Plotless music documentaries and if “Wuthering Heights” is as bad as the book, count me out.

           By late afternoon, all attention is on unfinished business. There is nobody here to look after anything in my absence. As mentioned the utilities and wifi were cut off, but easily restored. After the meeting with my banker, I should be back to a surplus by March 18. A tiny surplus, but that is all I need. Some of these margins, I know, are getting pretty thin.

           Checking my bass playing to map what I can play using only three left-hand fingers, you know, should it come to that. I found something. “Hotel California” is a studio overdub of many guitar parts, but during the second half there is a triplet riff that cannot be played by a solo guitarist without losing the rhythm chop. I gave it a try, and while it is a guitar part, there is a great way to spoof it on bass. It also parallels the motif of the lead break. I spent an hour on this just to see. Hmmm, this might be another piece where the guitarist who chooses this tune for his ego may find he has a lot more backup band than he bargained for. I would relish playing this triplet on the bass with the Hippie, just to see his reaction.
           Later, I went to the club to see what I’d missed. Wilford, whom I cannot figure why he still works there, is trying an “arts” night. Might as well, the old club is dead and gone. That is unless somebody gets the lerts to turn Saturday into country music night. I stepped out into a gulf breeze, meaning it is finally going to rain.

Last Laugh