One year ago today: July 1, 2025, a porterhouse this big.
Five years ago today: July 1, 2021, WIP
Nine years ago today: July 1, 2017, NZ, just in case . . .
Random years ago today: July 1, xxxx, WIP
I was looking to get you some real Civil War museum pics today, but that did not happen and I'm not happy. My system quickly adapted to Tennessee, so that means take it easy again. The whole day. I went over to the government office and took one look. A forty minute lineup, standing, and I could not manage that. Tomorrow the day off for July 4, which hits on a weekend. It means every place will have lineups, so wet over to the beautiful library to familiarize myself with what software they have installed. Not much. Every browser except Firefox means they cater to crowd who can check their e-mail and the weather. There is no movie editing sofware at all. What kind of Tennessean library user would ever need something like that?
The Reb called, so we planned an afternoon--if I can keep awake, har-dee-har. We wanted to try Hank's, a semi-famous breakfast joint but arrived to late. So we opted to share a bleu cheese burget next door. It was soon evident nobody in the place, patron or staff, had ever seen a couple work a crossword puzzle for the fun of it. Then again, I do know for people like my family, doing anything that requires brainwork is not fun in the lease. We made good on some plans that needed coordination, but we have too much going on just now to visit much. My last two Amazon packages have not arrived, but if they do, I'm wanting to go home. It would appear I'm past the stage in life where much else except home can wait their turn.
We are great museum goers, and today I managed to pick one of the worst. That sign said Civil War museum, but it is a fixed up old house built before the civil war than ad a cannonball come through the roof. That, sadly, other than a couple muskets on the wall they don't mention, is the only connection to the war itself. Unless you are interested in ornate hand-made period furniture, this is not the tour for you. Sorry, no photos allowed. The price is $17 per adult. And you cannot tough anything, which is because the artifacts are all exposed and there are only guided tours. I did not like the guide, a pushy feminist type with a memorized script. She knew the family daughter was adopted and got married "only once", and at age 55. The daughter went to Paris in 1880 and was the first women to win an art trophy, and you kind of get the idea how much I was interested. She did hold down on the "slavery" bull donkey, but did not like the concept of servants. Inside, the building is nicely restored, apparently a society was formed not long ago to save it from becoming a Mexican restaurant.
Would I recommend the Lotz House? No, because it is too much house and not enough Civil War. The furniture and styles were not that different from the grandparents of kids I grew up with. Plus I feel the way the advertising and sign are designed, it is a smidgen too misleading. There was a skirmish to the south, where they have a fenced field with some cannonballs, but it was rear area that barely saw any action. It is not part of the tour. The ceilings inside were tall, as in 12 feet. So I had a hell of a time getting up to the second story, having to kind of wrap things up early. Again, no pictures--except the $4 prints you can buy in the gift shop. I would give a partial okay on this one, but even the scripted tours were boring. I wanted Civil War history, not a dragged out history of the family who lived there at the time. Later, yep, I was foolish to climb those stairs. The upstairs rooms were not much to see.
They have have a couple Civil War cannons parked in front to contribute to the illusion. Note when I asked a couple questions concerting this, they expertly dodged the issue and focused on the Rab, who would not wonder about weaponry. I know many a millennial who would say you have to do your research (before visiting a museum), but that is part of my point. The first item on the list of what is a millennial is a head full of ideas on what you are supposed to do for them. The ultimate form of entitlement. Besides, screw you, I get paid to do research. And the one thing I'm really good at is being off work.
Ice floe safari.
Adventures for the incredibly stupid.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
The bottom line is life cannot possibly, in my condition, move any faster. So much for a relaxing trip to Tennessee. Mind you, the Reb does not skimp on comfortable furniture, so I fall asleep practically standing up around here. Again, we had to get into some intense financials but there is just enough light on the horizon, okay? You've all seen enough Hollywood [movies] to know it always comes down to the wire and in the end family are ones who stand by you. Well, not my family, but you get what I mean. It's been a while since any positive movement but this is the end of the predicted time-frame. I do not keep exact track of these internal dollar, but it is easily more than twice what I paid for my house. So, if it flops, which is possible, like I said the house is paid for. If it flies, baby needs a new pair of shoes.
Damn Google and damn anybody who does not damn Google. They just wiped out an hour of great blog material by refusing to save tomorrow's draft. You are now reading a repeat. The Reb & I had reviewed the past 48 hours and it is all we could hope and plan for. Thus, I would have headed back but my van needs a new bulb, that being one of the most common reasons for a police stop. If album sales move the needle, I'm happy but just being in the loop is, with the recording industry, more than you'd get from me any other way. I know she goes out of her way for me and I do not like it. So I would have headed home, but she went back to the studio. Apparently some of my toys have also arrived and I'd hate to drive to Florida without them.
Needing more down time, I zipped over to the Pond, where the same demographic was present, just different faces. I sang "Guitars, Cadillacs" and "A Pirate Looks at Forty". Well-received enough but I had a couple ladies doing same-era material like "Bobby McGee" and some Bible types singing hallelujah that tended to set the pace. I had been there to write a couple letters, which I did to JZ and Hersh. Short letters, I mean. They want to hear about babes and tunes and stage stuff, while I was lucky to get by. The way I waddle by the end of the day is about as old-guy as it gets.
Sorry for the chopped up format - Google has invaded the Apple again and turned off many features.
ADDENDUM
The Legend of Schoolboy. This is the grey, stovepipe ash grey, kitty adopted by the renter. Did I ever nickname the guy, if not, it is "Nate". In keeping, all the pets here are rescues and Schoolboy is from Nate's upbringing. His grandfather used the term as a compliment and a taunt. The kitty has an eye condition but is not under the same umbrella as our own. Not wen the vet wants $700 for a cure. But Schoolboy is not suffering at all and could scarely have a shot at doing better. I shall see about some good poses for you, there should be something that allows you to admire this somewhat large feline type. But not too close. Glad to see me walk in, he decided my ankle was game and drew blood. Oops, no pictures, and the video from Rosie's didn't turn out either. The camera just sat there. It always knows when I'm taking something important.
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