One year ago today: June 6, 2025, women swooned.
Five years ago today: June 6, 2021, Sears wasn’t cheap.
Nine years ago today: June 6, 2017, so I parked.
Random years ago today: June 6, 2011, fans vs A/C.
Dang, there is no good radio left. Not one easy listening station on the dial. Religion, sports, shigga-boogah, and anti-Trump NPR. Over the past couple months I resorted to recording on-line European stations but lately all my favorites seem to have switched to techno-rock. Ha, you have not suffered until you’ve heard German pop with the electric accordion. I was up late reading the Gold Coast book, as old Hortt took several long vacations in Europe and South America. In this chapter, he’s riding trains through some desolate Andean countryside and staying in hotels with no heat. The trick is to bribe the staff to bring you old wine bottles filled with hot water and wrapped in towels. These actually work till morning.
I made an early trip to the doggie pound with fifty pounds of food. I had help lifting it, and across the way is the used paint store. The recycling depot. I got a whole bag of goodies, how is this significant? To avoid the weekend wait, I park near the mulch bin and walk over. The joy is on the way back with a bag, I walked full speed the distance without thinking. Ha, so that is a plus. Endurance will get you a job, but instant energy bursts will save you from the alligators. The span is almost a half a city block, congratulations.
The trade-off is by the time I got home, I was taking baby-steps up to my door. I was really dragging my ass by noon. But I know who is moving as fast as they can. The time and money wasting NASA people on the useless space station. Part of the structure built in Russia is starting to crack and leak out the air. Gosh, what a surprise. The Russians aboard want to use a hand saw to get at the cracks and fix them but the NASA people are horrified by that plan. My plan is to let the thing disintegrate and get the US space program back on the path to Mars. Happy D-Day. Unless you ask the vets, I mean.
I made two spice boxes, both with logos. The plan is to test some stains on the wood. This morning fronted me two of the sought-after clear or satin gloss poly finishes. I’m just not the type to spend a lot of money on those, meaning free is the correct price. The lighter stains work well enough with the laser, but the burn time is a real concern. A full-size logo, which is 3”x3” for my equipment, takes nearly 7 minutes for the burn, adding on setup and positioning, more like 10 minutes. So three labels per box keeps things hopping. The correct burn speed is 3500 mm per minute to get it dark enough to match the stain. This took months to discover.
The variability of the lumber is solved by making each box out of one picket. The timing is exactly one cup of coffee, I have tested this on numerous occasions. Today I set the time lapse on the sky again. That was India on the phone, I’ll pass on an invite to a wrestling match. Like car racing, just not my thing. She was out of the loop for almost two weeks with catching the flu from her kids.
Nor are my boxes her priority, she just happens to be a seasoned Etsy user. The roadblock for me is the need to tend to the computer at daily regular hours. That’s called a job and I don’t want one. Here are the ten tunes garnered from the twelve sent by Ricko, the guitar player. We played another fifteen tunes from experience. Those are expected to find their own way. One attribute Ricko has is he reacts to telegraphed bass lines, particularly song endings. The Hippie was just beginning to catch on to that when he went feral the final time.
QuestioninglyGranted, this is not A-side material, but he was very frank that he does not care for the overplayed standards. We can agree on that, but I’m old-fashioned in thinking the material you do play should be recognizable by the majority. Then again, maybe Ricko is deliberately choosing country songs because he knows my influences. I’ll run through the list again later, right now it is too noisy from all the plumbers and electricians laughing as A.I. replaces the people who went to college.
Hey Joe
Chain of Fools
Little Red Rising Hood
Lonesome Fugitive
Today He Stopped Loving Her
Dark End of the Street
Red House
Perfect CW Song
Today I Started Loving Her Again
Typical west-US historical district.
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The guitarist also tried to slip some originals into the mix. I leave those until last. Reasons? Easy, there is no local market for originals, the material is generally guitar-centric crap, and I regard originals as permission to over-play the material. Hey, you want original, I’ll show you original. What? You meant only insofar as it showcases your guitar? Darnn, now you tell me. I’ll have most of the covers ready by Monday, the next scheduled rehearsal.
I zipped over to Kooters for a couple and to see if the other guitarist was present. Nope, it was dart night and they are plenty noisy enough. I took this box, which was not ready, but the server loved it anyway. It’s the picket wood with pecan stain and the Kooters logo, which she loved. That is the effect of these boxes, you see it, you pick it up, you need it. If it does not sell at that instant, all you’ve got is another box.
Are you weary of hearing about boxes yet? Hey, at east I’m not on about billiards or hockey. Good, because the boxes are my representative of adventure these days. Face it, mountain climbing and the trampoline are out. The tale behind this box is that it is a reject. Nothing visible really, but the carefully chosen jig failed due to slightly differing wood dimentions. The pickets can vary in width, making the bottom panels hard to fit. Since the box bottoms have to be flat so they don’t wiggle, it also makes for uneven tops, but that is kind of a feature.
A glance around said all older couples in some degree of marriage, so I took out a pen an wrote a letter to Hersh, my pal in the frozen north country. A fellow musician, he’s made recordings, he will be amused by the list I sent him. My new guitarists list is right out of 1974, which was the last era we even listened to record albums of this music.
In other news, starting this September, Google will issue a silent update that blocks every app on your Android phone unless it has a signed contract with Google and government ID. You only think the phone belongs to you. No, you cannot disable or opt out, Google has been ready for you on that count for at least five years. I mean, think of the groundwork they must have done to infect hundreds of millions of cell phone to even accept silent updates.
ADDENDUM
I wanted a quiet day, but everything is dominated by the cheating going on in California. The radio stations are making excuses but it is evident Trump is purposely letting America see for themselves what Democrat corruption looks like. It’s the perfect tactic since the Senate rejected the America First bill that would require ID and proof of citizenship—and all this well-placed to sink in deeply before the November mid-terms. But, you knew all this years ago if you’ve been following this blog.
Few recall how many years ago I warned that most Hindu university “degrees” were bogus. This morning brings news that hundreds of thousands of visas and degrees are under investigation. It would not bother most Americans is these people were shipped back wholesale.
The stock market is not your friend. I took a look at some dividend stocks to test the waters. It is still very much a gamble, and now there are horrific rumors of government caps on capital gains at 140%. My research on this is a follow up of last day when I priced chip-making machines at nearly a half-billion each. My conclusion is the market is positioned very defensively, that is, nobody knows what’s going to happen.
