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Yesteryear

Saturday, May 30, 2026

May 30, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 30, 2025, early symptoms, folks.
Five years ago today: May 30, 2021, empty that jar!
Nine years ago today: May 30, 2017, I like the lady.
Random years ago today: May 30, 2020, made it 4% there.

           Kudos to the Briggs kid, the 12-year-old who took first place at the Science Fair. Built him a working model of a moonshine still. For my favorite ten reply posts, see addendum. I guessed right, the guitarist is sending tunes that I have long since aced for stage presentation. Junk like Hendrix’s “Hey Joe”. I believe I first played that tune in 1966, that is, sixty years ago. I have asked him to send only tunes he can sing and play. We are slated for Monday afternoon. This morning, I crawled right back to bed. I’m not ready for Tennessee.
           This morning’s interesting quip was than the majority of your happiest childhood memories involved being somewhere and doing something you were not supposed to. Nothing happened this morning as I devise a new schedule that helps to combat listlessness. It involves sleeping half the day instead of no planning at all.

           Here is a picture of a device in the marine shop last month. I failed to find what it is. My guess is some kind of metal or anomaly detector. I took many pics, this is the only one that turned out. The logo says TM BC-4, but that was no help. It has two loop antennas at 90° angles mounted on the cabinet, I’m holding one of them. Possibly a long range radar, but the antennas are fixed in place. I won’t be near that store again until almost September.
           Yes, the recent operation has altered my basic patterns, some of them 30 years established. It is 30 years since an alarm clock but I am once again waking every morning at 5:30AM, sleeping an hour more per day, and I’ve lost taste for really spicy foods. I hear the jokes already, that I’m turning into a part-time Canadian. Entering my fifth month of changes, time to plan ahead. Good, I plan to stay home and stay put, which is the plans I tried 20 years ago. The Internet has become just another piece of censorship junk, but there are still a thousand good movies I’ve never seen. Yep, planning time.
           Aha, I put the search on the overhead in the kitchen and look what I found. That is definitely a picture of a similar unit and you can make out the words “White TM808”, let’s see where that takes us. After I put on the coffee, I mean. Within a 60-foot radius of my coffee-maker, even curiosity has its limits. The only thing that size and shape I’ll carry is my bass for the next foreseeable year.
           The TM stands for treasure master and most of the videos are in Turkish. I gather the piece is super sensitive, as they recommend a special uniform with no metal pieces and rubber footwear. There is a headset and several photos of a headlamp with a camcorder. The unit seems popular on old battlefields but also reveal it is not so great at pinpointing. Since operating a shovel is part of the deal, I would want something that is more than accurate.

           I watched four of the videos and conclude this machine is no more useful than any other, really. It repeatedly failed to find planted decoys, although I would like to run one over my yard just to see. The proximity of that Civil War kitchen tells me the better tree cover this way would be attractive to soldiers wanting some shade. It is almost impossible to make comparisons, but I’ll tell you what I would like. All these detectors are passive, they locate by using two coils. The transmitter uses a magnetic field to induce eddy current in metal objects, and this is picked up by the receiver coil.
           I would like a far more powerful unit that directs a narrower beam into the soil. I once watched a video of ground penetrating radar and think that is a superior concept. And I mean a real beam, mounted on a dolly since few people prospect on mountainsides. I once saw a detector circuit board and it had just two chips. Plus, that was before cheap micro-controllers came along. Has the technology advanced enough? Be aware these “pulse” detectors do not work well in gold fields, where the entire ground is often full of crazy weird anomalies. You want sandy or salty soil. Like this yard is full of.

           When I was 25, I bought a metal detector and found it useless. A few bottle caps, and the feature called a discriminator was just a waste of money. Also, in Florida all “public-managed” land is off limits, anyplace else you must likely get some form of permission. You cannot dig more than six inches deep and anything your find over 50 years old is state property—you cannot even remove it from the ground and you must report it to the authorities. And while there is no law against it, if you metal detect at night you will probably get yourself arrested.
           Same if you operate on any historical district whether posted or not. You become a criminal even if you were unaware of the designation, and the same goes for all parks and forests. Hmmm, is the world in need of a stealth model, looking like a baby carriage or puppy wagon?

Picture of the day.
Coffee roast chart.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Music dominates my afternoon, will I build anything today? For band management theory, see the addendum, this part of about music performing. I now have eight tunes extracted from what he sent, none of which specify the key or version. This is expected, so I learned them all, with bass versions that “sounds more like the original”, one of my specialties. It involves playing each note with a different “accent” than a guitarist would subconsciously impart. I know the new guy expects to form a full band—and I will give him all the latitude he needs to do just that. By himself. I have no anxiety whatsoever he will run off and join some other band in Polk County.
           Before dark I ran a sample box out of scraps. It works, but that’s about all it is good for. It’s under the laser at the moment, as even junk boxes have appeal with the logo. We are getting a bit better with those, as well. Like putting a pencil under one edge so the pattern gets slightly blurrier like a branding iron, but not enough to trip the level sensor on the laser. I found you can work on an open file, but not open a new one until the laser stops.

           Later, this is the box sporting the latest in laser etching. I reviewed reports from users who ran shops, finding little that was not common sense. I conclude while one can develop a sense of what settings are best, always test, and finally found a video that admitted they have started fires. The more powerful your beam, the more you watch. Shown here is the better, darker images that benefit from experience with this fence panel wood.
I’ve yet to see a video of others using the last for this purpose. Instead most tutorials involve thin materials and multiple cuts or layering. There are cigar box logos but those flimsy boxes do not compare with my product.            Yet, my product has no use or demand. It is gaining because it is handy round here. It has no handles, but is easy to handle. It has no price or cost files and you may be able to see that, when built from scraps, there is a difference in thicknesses.
           This box, not a Golden Ratio size, was quick and fun to build. Hence, there is a good chance I will refine the design and cost it. Most likely changes are mitering the joints, or even box or rabbet cuts as I will soon have another saw in operation. These small fence panels are soft wood that is easy to work with. Fill it with tea bags and plastic grass and sell it for $8. I need some ideas, man. By request, here is the probably-A.I. picture of Briggs with his mini-moonshine still.

           The Amish don’t buy electricity, but they make it. I saw a documentary on the batteries and got a laugh. The commentator went on about how the poor Amish farmer was suffering because he could not buy from the grid. Nonsense, the rule is to independent of outside sources, the Amish have nothing against electricity. I’ve seen the battery rooms at the phone company designed to last 70 years—they are the same design as the Amish cells and why your phone keeps working when the power goes out. It’s an old system well-known since 1850.
           I should have been out tonight checking on that guitarist at Kooters, but I’m home watching old movies. That is what boring people call “discipline”. Old science fiction is too corny to tolerate, but I’m still watching “Cosmic Man”. Favorite line so far: “Are you married in any way?"

           Next, a report on anti-pirate measures off the Somali coast. What a joke. The rules basically prevent the ships from effectively defending themselves. They are not permitted, for instance, to fire on an enemy if he shows signs of “disengagement”. A better solution is to kill everyone who participates in an attack and sink their vessels. Take no prisoners. These rules which restrict only one side is how the US lost the Vietnam war.

ADDENDUM

           This is your archetypical bass-line from your Type A or B guitarist, or in shorthand around here, your “cult guitarist”. But I don’t know if that is the case here yet. Until we rehearse, there is no way to know if this isn’t the greatest fusion of Pre-New Age Rock and Piano-Rhythm Bass of the decade. Once again, cult guitarists never really hear what the rest of the band plays, those people are at best a necessary evil. You see, that bunch never achieve the level of musical mastery as the guitar player, and that is why it takes so many of them.

           The twelve-year-old with the still was legal, but probably not allowed. He has the costume down pat. It was a demo of “distillation apparatus” and the pic looks A.I. Nonetheless, it’s something I would have done given the opportunity, or at least allowed to create the opportunity on my own. Here are the best comments:
a) does he give free samples?
b) future W. Virginia brain surgeon.
c) he beat out the meth lab.
d) follow the science.
e) the finest in homeschooling.
f) multiple income streams.
g) what’s daddy do in his spare time?
Last Laugh

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