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Yesteryear

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

May 6, 2026

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 6, 2025, nice box hardware.
Five years ago today: May 6, 2021, forget planting the seeds.
Nine years ago today: May 6, 2017, millennials love being pests.
Random years ago today: May 6, 2013, root beer ingredients.

           Corporate abandonment? That’s what community leaders want to charge Walgreens for closing stores due to shoplifting. The first round of complimentary free trials on new cars begins expiring this month. Want heated seats and remote start? Pay up, help support a system that can only get worse. Call this a grumpy morning, but didn’t we go through this with cell phones, every ass in town, instead of creating anything, focused on getting himself a bigger slice of the pie. Because actual work and creating things, well that takes brains and effort.
           Get ready for a nothing morning full of ills. Yes, I got the hose and clamp back on. I had to lie in the sandy part of the driveway, and a few of the local feral cats decided overnight that sand was just too inviting. I worked in the pooh aroma and took one hour to get this stupid clamp off. It seems in perfect shape and strong as new. I finally got it with my needle-nose vice grips, which have never worked right.

           I got the backyard mechanic blues. Example, I have this tray full of hose clamps, I chose one at random. Another wasted hour as I could just feed it into place with my fingertip, but it would twist back off soon as I applied any torque. Twenty tries later, with the thing often falling right off the hose and landing on my face, I discover of that whole tray of clamps, I picked the one that jammed on the first turn.
           In the end, I walked to the shed at least five times and tried a dozen different tools until I also noticed I have a 5/16ths socket with something wrong. Because it cost me so much today, I’m throwing it under the microscope to see what gives. And that would be the second instance today that by chance I grabbed defective gear. I’m working against two clocks. One says I need my van, two is my biological clock that could need winding without notice.

           Which leads to an extra break, as I worked an hour past the get-out-of-the-sun-you-idiot time of morning. Just in time to answer the phone. It’s Rick the new guitar guy. He’s pro enough to keep checked in whether the band flies or not. Yep, he’s in the same boat as most of us. His auto battery isn’t holding a charge, his new girlfriend has enough clothes to take inventory, his days of packing road gear are behind him, and he’s learned Florida is not a musician’s promised land. He attends a jam first Wednesday of the month, but thinks it is 30 miles up the road. Nope, more like 60 and two lanes the whole trip. (Later, it is 48 miles each way.
           He’s also cautious not to scare off any new potential, which is likely how he perceives me. But he’s after a big band without considering the cost, effort, or logistics. Fortunately, I know precisely how to work with that.

           Outside, the hood is still up and I could not find my 24mm socket. I have a wrench but it won’t fit. It is for that filler cap and the maximum standard size is 21mm, unless you want to shell out the money for a whole set, it's impossible around here to buy just the 24mm. The nut is also behind a hose attached to a flange. Howie came by to check and he lent me a 24mm, needs it for his tractor work.

Picture of the day.
Restored radiator.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           That’s as far as I got this morning. I looked at the filler cap and decided the flange can just be cut away and the hose zap-strapped to anything nearby. Later, I have the flange out of the way, but the 24mm nut is inside a slight depression. The socket has thick walls for heavy duty work, and that thickness will not allow it to fit over the nut. It is the middle of the hottest part of the day, when that is over, it will be too dark to work. At 93°F today, the summer swelter is here. I’m inside with 6 of seven fans full blast.
           Knowing I’m not the first to have this problem with KIA, I’ll do some on-line searching. Last time I searched on filling the transmissions, I got fifteen jerkfaces who showed how to drain it. Gawd, these people don’t know how bad they are making life for themselves. How, I ask, do these peole reach adulthood without knowing the difference between drain and fill? And these are the bunch who expect to go to Mars?

           Aha, I found the squirrel attack route. The game cam did not reveal the tactic, rather it was a windy day and the rodent did not hear me round the corner. There he was, leaping from the corner of a tool box that seemed too far away. He took a running leap and just made it. The box is moved. This is not victory, the squirrels are like Iran. Their culture is just keep looking for other ways to cause trouble where they are not wanted. It must be easier to destroy other people’s freedom than to fight for your own.
           Cancel Clermont, Rick is also a motorcycle rider and I’m not driving out there. Hmmm, this means get my kitchen cleared out as he won’t be able to haul a lot of gear. It also means he either has a small amp or plays through the PA. He’s mentioned he has a van but it might be his girlfriends. Either way, don’t count on availability.
           So we have here a situation much described in this blog that Rick, without saying so, finds himself in the middle of. It’s how he’s dealing just now with scenarios so old and familiar over here it’s comical. Like the fact if you are over 50, you got compound choices. You can sit home or go out. Sit home and you turn into a vegetable. Go out, and you got another two choices. Be the entertainer, or be the entertained. You got it, be entertained and still turn into a vegetable. As the performer, you got two choices. Pluck or get plucked. And that is why music is fun, yet a bit of a job. Because anything beats turning into a vegetable.
           Don’t suppose I’m thinking he’s just learned all this, I’m only picking up that he does have as much mileage on it as I’d expect. So I grabbed the bass and learned to “reggae” bass line to “Heaven’s Door”. There’s not a lot can be done with it, though during lead breaks, the guitarist is often so self-absorbed you can slide in a Bob Marley drop one. That, the drop one, is a technique of only playing one note in the first measure or half measure, the churning out the triads.

           Reading US military notes, I see they’ve wised up to the expenditure in missiles over cheap-ass drones. And a working solution is trainer aircraft. Good old two-person propeller planes rigged out with some sensors and aimers. Watched a couple with drop tanks so they can loiter in the drone alleys. The Shaheds fly slow enough to be picked off visually or by infrared helmet by night. For detection, could not be simpler. A soldier hears the lawn mower engines and phones back to base. Slew the ground radars in that direction and you get enough echo to vector in the trainers.
           The larger the drone swarm, the more targets. Modern fire control means ten or twenty rounds can ensure a hit. It’s only economical compared to missiles but I see no reason they won’t dispense with the pilot in a year or two. Plus don’t forget that kid who 3D printed that homing rocket for $3,000.

ADDENDUM
           Did I not warn y’all that MicroSoft was using Chrome, Edge, and Copilot to extract and store all your passwords. I saw the news release, and yes, they are admitting to only the storage part. Because that is only the part they’ve been caught. I also got rid of Opera and Brave long ago for the same reason. Worse yet, the Edge can be hacked to enter any site built using MicroSoft virtual code whether you know it or not. Best resign yourself that if it is digital, it can be cracked. You done been told.
           That movement in Alberta could be more than serious. Those people want out. To all the people protesting the data centers for being surveillance centers—who willingly gave them all that data? I can see it happening because Ottawa has smugly presumed they would never unite. In what might be the death-knell of the Democrats, the Supreme Court has denied their motion to reverse redistricting.

Last Laugh