Musical Chairs

Originally I was going to raise hell about things that still seem to haunt and anger me, But I decided that it is useless. Discretion and comprehension of boundaries are not endemic to all cultures, or subcultures in the US.

This teak furniture project has become a wonderland of chemical aromas. If I were into huffing, I'd be in big trouble after a day like today. I've always enjoyed working with things that smell like lacquer thinner. It could be there is a reason--something to do with my addictive nature. Some varnish stripper has a similar aromatic quality.

There is a 2 step process once you get the varnish off. First is a cleaner then there is a brightener. The latter smells like battery acid, and I found I enjoy that smell. Spooky. Those two steps are done with the teak soaking wet. I'm treating this stuff like a boat deck. I figure it is outdoor furniture so if it is dealt with like something that goes to sea, it ought to handle hanging out at the pool and on the patio. Whatever the people who built it coated it with certainly did not last. Reportedly that finish started deteriorating after a month. The trouble is that some was still intact, and some not. Lots of stripper, and eventually lots of sandpaper. Muscles I may have never used in my life are beginning to make their presence known, and not in the form of bulk or attractive ripples. That would be in the pain, Bob.

Salt of the Earth

Who would have ever thought that I would become an accidental salt connoisseur? Salt is salt, I always thought. Until the day I was denied the "good salt". Not exactly denied, but flogged for tasting the good stuff, presumably reserved for the "good people"; company and other dignitaries of higher status than myself, I guess.

The "good salt" story has served as an inside joke that never looses its flavor. And it resulted in me deciding that salt is not just salt. Some is harvested by foreign virgins at the sea shore. Other salt has clay somehow involved in the process. There are big crystals and tiny. You can grind it up like pepper.

It is uncool and not remarkably healthy to heap salt on everything, so the "good salt" lasts for a very long time. That actually justifies the seemingly high price. It is a bargain, especially considering the long hours those foreign virgins put into picking only the choicest crystals. .

I use the usual cheap salt for things like catching birds. For those who don't know, people, like my grandpa, used to say if you put salt on a bird's tail, you could catch it. When I was somewhat younger than I am today, I ran around my backyard with a salt shaker trying to catch birds. I never did. That doesn't mean the statement is false, though. My problem was that I couldn't get the salt on the bird's tail. If I had, I bet I would have caught him.

So, in the mail today I received a surprise bag of very good salt. Exotic and red from the clay involved in its harvest--or so I think. Maybe it is blood from human sacrifice. When it comes to exotic places and salt, anything is possible.

This is probably an example of personal growth. I've moved from the ranks of the salty ignoramus to salt snob.

I'm not sure how this saltsnobbery fits in with the brave new collective world. It seems a bit of an individual indulgence, enjoyed without a second thought concerning service to the community, my country or love of the holy earth. Well, maybe love of the sea from whence it came. Certainly, I don't ask myself how I can share my "good salt" with those less fortunate/and/or discerning than myself. Greater good never crosses my mind. How to pay rent does from time to time.

Another secret of the "good salt"; if you were to pack shotgun shells with it, it would be to cheap table salt as buckshot is to birdshot. You never know. There may come a time when I have to share by embedding it in the body of my foes. I guess I'm anticipating hordes of mindless green shirts in some official civil service patrol who need to be kept at bay. In the old days people used to shoot at you with salt pellets in order to protect their property and not kill the kids who were making trouble.

The kids were almost never armed and the shooter never prosecuted. Similar to today, except it is the kids who are armed, using real bullets, and protecting the property is not the PC thing to do.

Well, I must go, early day tomorrow at the old salt mine.

Belt Sanders are Good

You may not see this on the news any time soon, but there are times when proper use of a belt sander can definitely bail you out and even cut costs. Just another public service message. Not one the ad council is likely to publish. They are too busy telling you things that are of dubious validity or so obvious that even I already know them. The one that informs us, the dumbed down, obese public, that taking the stairs provides more exercise than taking an elevator. I never knew.

One thing about belt sanders; it pays to know what you are doing because you can seriously gouge the item being sanded if you aren't used to the thing. They are a little like those circular floor waxers, carpet cleaner machines. They'll run across the room on you if you aren't used to them.

Another hint for the well-to-do home owner, and the decorators they hire: If you have outdoor teak furniture made, don't let them get by with spraying a coat of varnish and leaving it at that. The sun will make most of it disappear in six months. I think it should be treated the way you'd do it on a boat.

Strange days are at hand. I'd say time will tell if these things are as bizarre as they seem but so far I notice that most people can't follow the cause and effect of things. That makes the population an easy mark. Too bad most of us are familiar with the phenomena known as solar and lunar eclipse, or they'd be doing that old trick of making us think it was a crisis and that lawyers on public pay make the sun and moon come back. It would no doubt include sacrifice and duty of some kind on our part.

It Rains In Southern California

It's sleeting in Alpine. It rained on the coast. Climate change is spooky. Just yesterday it was sunny and hot enough to sweat if you tried. Local news spokes-model man thinks it is because people use plastic bags. He struck a contemplative and thoughtful pose, so he probably knows. "Why aren't people taking global warming seriously?", he asked after his plastic bag tirade.

In considering the various slogans that have stood over time, I find that many of them really mean nothing. I've concluded that Obama's "Yes we can", applied in contexts other than I think were intended, is about as good as any. Better than most. "I have not yet begun to fight!!" is probably the best and most inspirational.

Kennedy's "Ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country", is basic nonsense, unless you live in a slave state. I'd not encourage anyone to ask either of those things. What does "do for your country" mean, except in times of disaster or war? Considering that the draft was in play, and withholding money from income was already being done, I don't think asking questions made a difference. Considering the source and context---president of the government's inaugural address, I believe it implies, "Ask what you can do for your government; the military-industrial complex".

If you are honest and trade fair, without extorting from the people, as government and many of its contractors do, then you are doing plenty for your country. Keeping Walgreen's open 24 hours is a good example of doing for your country, in my book.

The other line in his speech which recommends other countries "ask not what America will do for you, but what together, we can do for the freedom of man"*, has a bit more substance. Unfortunately the very term "freedom" has experienced some dilution in meaning and application over the years. It was already used in a twisted sense by the time JFK hit the scene. Too bad.
(*universal pronouns were still intact at that time--women weren't being left out in that statement)

Once again, it has snowed on hwy S2 by Mt Leguna. That's where the daredevil hang gliders launch. One of these days...

Fudd Ruckers and I told you so

I suppose Baba could be cwedited with making R (aw) a letter of mis or no pronunciation. Lately it seems to be the fashionable thing in DC. Lawmakers impersonating Elmer Fudd. First there was Bahney Fwank, then that other guy who has assured us that the money taken from taxpayers and given to various communities or put into public works projects won't go to workers who actually do that work, unless they fit his parameters, many of which sound as if being qualified is a disqualifying factor. Or something.

It was a rambling and not altogether coherent statement, so reasonable content may have been missing altogether. What struck me was the Fuddishness of the delivery. I think it's a fad. I'm not sure how to make money from it, and if I did know I'd keep it vewy vewy quiet.

Well, it looks like we have a year to rehab that rental house or old barn. Obama is closing Gitmo, but he wisely allowed a year to figure out the details. That's where having a ready made facility would pay off. Maybe if you pitch it, substituting Ws and "ah" for Rs, you can wow the powers that be into a tidy sum for housing the enemy.

One benefit would be that you can actually see if it is only the enemy being locked up, and not politically incorrect dissidents from this country.

So, I guess it was a good idea after all.

The only thing that I noticed from the mass euphoria going around is that a sense of humor seems to be lacking. That is a troubling development.

Another Money Making Scheme

Call me Mr Opportunist if you must. Every once in awhile I see the silver lining in the cloud. Lacking the drive to follow up, I offer these money making gems as a public service.

Today's money maker: Terrorist Jail.

Assuming Obama shuts down Gitmo, they will be wanting to house some of those people somewhere. I can't imagine anyone wants to stick them in a normal prison. The extra complications, and accommodations, would not be welcomed by many prison administrators.

The best solution is to sub it out to a private company whose only business is maintaining terrorist cages. I'll bet you could land a sweet contract if you converted that old barn, or the stables on your struggling ranch or farm into a Muslim friendly hell on earth. They don't need TV or internet, just a few dietary requirements, and foot wash and whatever else it is they do. I guess you should buy the proper holy book in bulk and make sure they aren't made of anything which would facilitate escape or suicide bomb construction.

This is a great way to make ends meet in these trying times. You'd get money to appear on sixty minutes, and late night TV. Maybe a cable network would do a special, or base a sitcom on the place.

Once again, you are welcome. A free outline of how to get rich while the rest of the world goes to heck in a hand basket. Cash cows like this don't grow on trees you know.

**many people don't know of my inside track when it comes to Barry things. Yep, 'Rack and I are pretty tight. His friends call him Barry, or "Rack", pronounced "rock". If I wasn't well connected, would I know that?

Hit of the Ball, and random critique

The highlight of the festivities for me was Stevie Wonder. Also that chick Beyonce can sing. The Sting and Stevie thing wasn't bad either. Poor Ray Romano fell flat. This was not a crowd looking to laugh at that kind of humor even though it would have been funny in some circles at a different time. They were still in awe struck and didn't want to take O down from the pedestal so soon. You'd have thought he'd have known that.

The neighborhood Ball did have some pretty good acts like the Anti-Gravity group from NYC. That was rather wild. I had to check out the music. Couldn't help it. A few were lame but Stevie and a few others made up for it.

Where Do They Get These Holy Men?

It was an innaugeration, almost a coronation. It would be the seating of dictator for life if some had their way. That's OK. Mostly it was civil, with a few low class moments and a few very bizarre ones.

The first holy man rambled on with what I assume to have been a prayer. I wondered if someone was going to have to shoot him to shut him up. Where did they get that guy? An embarrassment. If you want to give a holy man that sort of press, please don't pull him out of an animated cartoon.

Then, the guy at the end had his few minutes in the sun. Holy smoke. Racist or what? Come on man, what is your problem? So, amid messages of unity and the usual platitudes, we have this guy separating and pointing fingers. He obviously has a low opinion of white people. That's his right, but it was not the best venue in which to vent. They just seated a president who carried a strong majority of the white vote, and I assume the holy roller wanted Obama to win.

Hysteria ran high so not that many people were as offended as I was. Those who oppose the president may have picked it up, but even when their points have a some validity I think they kill their case in the delivery.

I've never liked the trend toward more and more pomp and circumstance when it comes to presidents. I am not a monarchist. I do not approve of making the office akin to supreme ruler. That is not what this country is supposed to be. Clearly most people disagree with me on that.

We are in the age in which it is assumed that government is there to handle everything. I always wished they'd handle less. Much less. That goes for domestic matters as well as foreign. Big authority is something I do not trust. It gives me the creeps. I'm glad if a lot of people are happy but I fear their zeal is based on a personality rather than on substantive principles.

After today, I can certainly see why many point to religions and their leaders as the root of much of the world's evils throughout history. Those guys were useless. Completely empty bags of wind who have neither reason nor ideals to justify their position in this ceremony. It also brought to mind how easily large numbers of people are swept into movements which ignore true rights and have caused a great deal of pain and suffering throughout the ages. Hopefully this mob's mentality is somehow directed in ways that lead to autonomous thought--thought of any kind.

Meet the Beatles.

It is Not Always Easy to Know When I Joke

Sometimes I'm not even sure. So, it is OK if others don't know.

Wouldn't it be great if all the people who are high on the new president would go out a buy stocks like crazy? If that enthusiasm spilled over into the market, it could be a good thing. Maybe it will happen. Spend that beer and wine money, and part of the dope money on stocks because you are optimistic and happy. It's just crazy enough, it might work.

Dancing for Dames

It seems better to not say what I said. So, I deleted it.

That's the trouble with being online, people can misunderstand or assume things and get feelings tangled up, especially if they know you. Not always worth it.

I'll just say that I think those various dance class things are probably a good place to meet middle aged women. I consider middle aged just about any age that is still breathing and able to get around on their own.