April 1, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: April 1, 2025, good American crud.
Five years ago today: April 1, 2021, on the verge.
Nine years ago today: April 1, 2017, another deadbeat.
Random years ago today: April 1, 1981, Tsawwassen.

           This worked out to the first real day off this year. Stress-free is the major component. Here’s what I found worth recording, there is no goal for it to make any sense. JZ has a new coffee maker—but got one of those models that does no turn off after a couple hours. I never did trust those things. He also listens to Channel 7 news, so, he’s no inkling of the changing values of America. He’s no idea about any of the drastic “pro-right” events and moods. But he does remember as a lad how his dad would gather the family to watch space launches. And there is one later today.

           We visited a new museum, or did we? Firstly, I drove us over to the Pinecrest library, whose staff is about as xenophobic as it gets. They must methodically pore over the books and computer logs for any hints of exposure to any agenda but their own. Right away, JZ and I hit the book sale rack. I found no audiobooks, JZ found an expensive photo book of shipwrecks in the Great Lakes. And bought it. Good, I’ve read all the other books in his place many times over.

           Except this 800 page volume of general topics which has an okay atlas. Okay because it is around 25% biographies of people you never heard of. We could not find a decent map of the Gulf, which has a name change after it passes through the Strait of Hormuz. That waterway averages 60 miles wide, but there are only two lanes. Each two miles wide, one inwardbound, the other outwardbound, with a median, also two miles across.
           It makes for somewhat disjointed convo, since I care not about personalities and JZ knows nothing of the military or economics of the program. For example, the US follows conventions in not recognizing any national sovereignty over that international waterway. Between 12 and 14 tankers sail through in an average day. JZ calls it the “Gulf of Vermouth” and thinks the whole region is really one big secret nation. He could have a valid point, there.

           This picture is a lot of seized cookies, they are fake Oreos. The blog mention is because the way the logo was printed on the dough. It was made on a 3D printer. And represents a new high in meaningful millennial brain-ability.
           JZ mentions there is a military museum just opened up. No address, but last time I was at the railroad exhibit, I saw a poster saying the old cadet barracks was to be painted up. It being just noon, I drove all the way out there against protests the building did not exist. But there are mentions of it in this blog, so I knew the structure was there. The accompanying photo is NOT the same as today, this is an old picture of the way I remember it years ago.

           Did we visit a museum? Yes and no, this place was not a display case of weapons, rather a concept called a “community museum”. The focus was on the local people who served and died in the big wars of the previous century.
           I found the room with a wall display of the Miami medical team and was abraded to find no mention of JZ’s father. This could lead to something because JZ’s place has several awards and certificates of his father’s contributions. JZ and I have, over years, talked of what will happened to all those items when we are gone, so this is a new and possibly significant avenue. There is one award that stands out, it is trimmed in gold foil—I’m saying his dad deserves at least the same recognition as what I saw in that room. It is not my decision, but I informed JZ I would mention it to Alaine. And I got the business card of the head of the museum. I will do nothing without permission

Picture of the day.
Merkur Bingo Hall (London).
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Tradition, we headed for the County Fair, arriving and 2:00PM to find the place vacant and shut down. We learned from a parking attendant the gates do not open until 4:00PM. What the? Imagine, getting GenXed by Broward Country. No sign at the entrance, all the cones and lanes so no nothing until you drive into the complex. No way I could deal with a two-hour wait, so the vote was we drive to Sedano’s and stock up. If you know what to look for there are real bargains to be had. I got the thin-cut sirloin pork chips with no fat, a party tray of shrimp, and headed back to the condo, where JZ always keeps plenty of rice on hand. It was a feast.

           A late dinner I mean, when we arrived, I once more was hit with fatigue and zonked. I left instructions to wake me up before the satellite launch, scheduled for 6:30PM give or take a NASA hour. What follows is not supposed to make sense, you see, while JZ thinks the crew are “astronauts”, I consider them a pack of jokers on a publicity ride. So, picture this, two old guys, both staring a boring commentators and making better comments ourselves. Example, JZ starts watching the weather map animations showing the wind currents.

           I bet him $15 we could go sit on his balcony for an hour and we would not see a single white arrow in the sky. But that idea got the axe since we could not find any beer in the fridge. However, we later concluded the launch might be a cover up. The rocket was really a missile headed for Teheran. A sneak attack of the most sinister stripe. And that whisp of smoke from the turret was the crew, toking a Cuban cigar in celebration of their free ride on the taxpayer dime.
           Don’t pooh-pooh the logic. Look closely at this picture of the countdown. Big rocket, painted orange to get your attention. Moments after ignition, the whole scene is blanketed with smoke so nobody will notice in the lower right is a near-exact replica of the Pahokee water tower. A clever disguise, indeed.

           I was later to learn Alaine, true to the family tradition, had watched the launch from their back yard. Once it go in the air, it arcs over, which her husband was quick to point out that means it is falling back to Earth on a trajectory toward Iran. See, men know about these things. I’m the one who first noticed once the smoke screen wafted away, the water tower had been replaced by a Styrofoam duplicate.

ADDENDUM
           Club 33. It’s off limits, today I’m referring to the location in Orlando. It is a private club where VIPs and celebrity types can dine in peace. Initiation fees are reportedly $25,000 with annual membership dues of $10,000. I wonder if I’d meet Taylor there, since she has shown a distinct aversion to hopping over to my club, just 40 miles away. This is why keeping my appointments in Miami is important. Time is short and the club waiting list is over ten years long. Even the entrances are hidden from the public. I like the way the tables are twenty feet apart. So the Tay and I can have our intimacies, type of thing.
           I wish I had some of my old-style adventures to report. I know, these days it is books, treatments, and curiosities. I need a 300% improvement just to return to base. The slowdown in lifestyle was inevitable, but I can hope. Did I not just read how Tay has stopped seeing what’s-his-name? Don’t try telling me it is all coincidence. Like the Democrats who categorically swore their election computers were unhackable now saying Trump is planning a steal.

Last Laugh

           This is an Oklahoma City manhole cover. It shows a map of the city, along with a white dot showing where you are. This is either great tourist-industry foresight, or an admission of how badly their DEI policies have gone off the rails. It was used for a blog placeholder, but got 1,421 views, so here it stays. Enjoy.