Quarter of a century

25 years ago I crossed that bridge into the new century, my time, and gave up drinking alcohol. Haven't drank since, although I almost fooled myself into it a few years ago. For me that is a horrible idea.

In that time pedestrians have been much safer on sidewalks and streets, roadside mailboxes and fences have been safer, as well as your garden variety motorist. Though I never did encounter another motorist when I found myself cruising through gardens or farm fields.

I don't think I've done anything great, I just quit being a hazard and such a negative force in life. Hopefully, I've managed to net out on the positive side since then. Some people shouldn't do certain things that others can do without issue. Like many people shouldn't drive, be parents, gamble, or eat cake. My kryptonite, besides brainy women and those who won't take no for an answer, just happens to be a naturally occurring fluid which is a great solvent, disinfectant and homemade camp stove fuel.

Decisions and Reality

Can't do too much computer time or reading. A little eye situation arose.

To head off real trouble they nuked a vital piece of optical apparatus contained within my own seeing equipment with a laser (I say that with air quotes and pronounce it "Lay Zar" like Dr Evil).

If all goes well then I am able to take a road trip in two weeks. The catch is that this process was expensive and I used my trip money for it. I baragained the best I could and paying on the spot saved me five or six hundred dollars. I say saved me money but I don't feel like I saved much because I really mean I paid less than if I worked out a time thing or was billing insurance.

I see well and all that, but these sudden floater things nicked a tiny bit of the big disc behind them, so the spot weld the thing with a lay zar to prevent hypopoly fallingoffadaplaceitbelongs. There is a healing period involved and I'm not sposed to do much comuter and the like or do things which jar my eyes like bang my head on the floor or play blues harp the way I do. I tend to be a bit physical in that endeavor. One friend described it; "you play very aggressively".

It was one of those things which is best done right now, not later. I went for a follow up exam due to another exam which was the result of an initial exam. The actually stayed late to go ahead and do the deed right then and there. Basically a prevetative measure which is much easier than that which was being prevented.

The guy had a cool picture of BB King hugging his guitar. His son drew it with charcoal and something, maybe flax. Very good drawing.

So, now, do I dig up money from places I wanted to leave it and have even less later on than I already do? Hard to say. I may not see all my family together like this again, so I think do it if all heals as expected.

Once again I am kind of fortunate. Various circumstances led to catching this so early that it could be dealt with quickly with no open backed gowns or very costly, much more risky procedures. It is an inconvenience but it may also be one of those things that is needed to get my attention and cause me to deal with things differently. I know I need to do that.

I am also grateful for the less than 1% who invented technology, and perfected it to the point that they can shoot a light beam in your eye which doesn't affect any tissue except at the pin point place where they focus the beam. Would I care if they are mega rich as a result? No I would not. I do not care if they recycle or if they give to charity or if they drive gas guzzling vehicles with bad mufflers. They benefit the world more than all the celebrity preachers who tell you how to live combined.

And it is in one way or another an offshoot of a capitalist economic system that these things get done. Granted, there is corruption in the world and it often, if not always, involves governmental types using their power to skew the free market so that they get money and power from those they help. Hating everyone who creates things and gets rich is the wrong place to vent anger at the corrupt syndrome described.

I better stop. I won't proofread. Fingers are crossed that I can hit the road soon. If not, maybe it will prove to be some benefit in ways I can't see pr predict at this time. I bet I do make the trip.

It is not a situation which would be helped b medicinal or illicit marijuana. In a way that is good--one less expense.

Cooking Thought

A toasted peanut butter sandwich is a fine thing. But don't think it is without its own set of complications.

Fickle Sports Fan

If I'm not actually playing a sport, I rarely get overly involved in the emotional turmoil that comes from pulling for a particular team Of course teams from home cities and colleges are my first choices for the bit of emotion I do devote to fan activities.

I like football, and always have. It must be the neighborhood games when I was a kid. Most of the guys were bigger and older but I could run through and around them with a football. It is one of the best feelings I recall from elementary school. Life got complicated after that. It was one place in which time did not exist.

So, now that I am in San Diego, it is required that I be a Chargers fan. And I am, to a point. I see no way they'll get to any playoffs, but I don't keep up enough to know the ins and outs. The good thing is that I keep a few teams on deck so I can have a favorite when San Diego punks out. And they are punking out.

My favorites are not teams my die hard Chargers fan friends like at all. They actually have disdain for a couple of my secret favs. Like Denver and New England. Long story on the New England thing, but a nice one which stems from a cool event in my life.

I'm a Miami fan, of course. I was more of one back in the day when Shula was coach and Larry Czonka was playing. I like Green Bay, so I won't mind when they win it all.

People really get tribal when it comes to sports teams, and sometimes people get beaten, shot or stabbed at games. We used to think that was just the stuff of Europe and South America at soccer games. Maybe it is a measure of our true level of advancement as a species, I don't know. That sounds kind of bizarre and pretentious, but could be true.

If everyone was like me, people would not get killed or in fights at games, but the whole sports industry would be broke and probably fall apart. The people now employed in that industry would end up doing jobs that Americans won't do--whatever that means. And I would miss out on the enjoyment of watching a game now and then and switching my allegiance depending upon who's winning or I just happen to like.

Good thing everyone is not like me.

The Reluctant Love of Machines

Fortunately, I am not the only one who gets attached to a car, a bike, a computer or some other inanimate object. I say "fortunately" because irrational emotion loves company. Then again, maybe it is rational.

Now that I think of it, this kind of emotion could be why it grieves me to see people ignoring the brilliance, hard work and persistence it takes for someone to bring a good idea to fruition. Without such people, we'd be fanning ourselves to cool off on hot days, and we'd be walking in something less than well made footwear. Certainly we wouldn't be driving machines which can go 100 miles per hour or more, and which have been so refined that semi-imbeciles can operate them--maybe not well, but well enough to get a license, or fake it.

People who are responsible for making these things happen ought to be rich. Richer that 99% percent of the population. Richer than 99.99%. Why not? It is a very dangerous thing when talk of disdain for such people, regardless how the money was earned, becomes some kind of self righteous key to peer acceptance.

Disdain for dishonest people and people, like elected officials, who abuse power to enrich themselves, usually at taxpayer expense, makes sense. If you look at the basic tax code, and how much of the tax pie is paid by the wealthiest one percent, it ought to be evident that this talk of "their fair share" not being shouldered is not all that accurate a statement.

Those who use government to control markets, market share of an industry, to reap subsidies for bogus enterprises which pay the top dogs big bucks to fail, to bail out their company, etc, are crooks--pure and simple. I don't care if it is legal. That is the problem; government officials should not have the power to so blatantly peddle corruption. It's OK. Tons of people can't see that point, or flatly disagree. They think regulation works, but who is regulating the regulators?

You start blaming the richest one in one hundred and you certainly begin to persecute some very good people who simply do not deserve your anger. Chances are, some of those people did something which in one way or another saved your life, enabled you to travel and see things you'd never have seen, made a difference that you probably take for granted. They don't demand that you use what they created in a particular way, so I see no reason to demand that they use the wealth it earned them as I see fit.

Uh oh. Sidetracked. The real story is that I finally broke down and got new brakes and timing belt done here, as well as changed out transmission fluid and a few things; needed items which I would have a hard time doing myself up here in the dusty place where I park by my front door. My first choice was Sewall Subaru in Dallas, but I just couldn't put the brakes off longer. I could tell by feel and sound that I was getting close to the point at which no pad is left and you tear up drums and rotors.

New brakes are almost as much fun as new tires. As trashed as the interior of this car is from dirt, grease and whatnot, it may have been concerned that I didn't love it. I think it has been reassured and will be happy for another several thousand miles.

When you get that much work done they arrange for a rental car. I ended up with a 2012 Nissan Versa with only 3000 miles or so. It was nice and did the job.

What struck me, when I got back in my car is how few times in my life that I owned a car which was better than the car I rented. My car seems tighter, tracks better at highway speed, and is all round more solid. Not to mention better visibility and better performance uphill. Even though it is frightening how much some maintenance items cost, I felt quite fortunate as I drove home. And I am now ready for a road trip.

I suppose 103000 is not bad for a set of brakes. I'm certain this is the first brake job for this car. To think it only had about 30K when I bought it. Well, it has been a little over two years.

I guess I will have to examine the finances and see how thin it will cut things to take this Christmas trip. I'm pretty sure I can swing the fuel bill, but lodging may have to go by the wayside. I've got a plan so it won't be too uncomfortable.

No reason the car should actually run better, but it seems like it does. It really feels great. It told me it is ready, as soon as I replace that one fog light that went out.

While being shuttled over to pick up a car with a few other people, I discovered that they all love their Subarus and all were in for normal maintenance, not breakdowns. They also gave the service facility good reviews since they had been there before.

I wonder when that one lady was there. She was about forty thousand miles past time for a timing belt and was in to finally do that. Maybe she'd been in for all the other regular service things. I doubt it. Maybe just one or two of those fluid things or brakes or something. And what a surprise, I think only one of the people was possibly a lesbian.

I'm telling you, this car is crossing over. I'm not the only non gay person to own one.

I hope that doesn't mean I am losing my uniqueness.

Maybe I Am Somebody's Secret Boy Toy

You can't prove I wasn't Faye Dunaway's secret lover. It seems she was in Memphis sometimes when I was there. So was Jesse Jackson. So was Al Sharpton.

I was in the same town as Ted Kennedy, too, and Gloria Estephan. And Jim Morrison. And Abalonia, though I'm not sure how she spells her name; I was too busy fighting my shame as she took advantage of me.

I'm pretty sure, now that I think of it, that Herman Cain forced me to do the windmill in his hotel room. He hired people to kidnap me at that conference.

I'm only coming forward now for purely altruistic reasons. It has nothing to do with secret payoffs, politics, or my narcissistic desire to be on talk shows and in the news.

You can't prove I did not have forced or voluntary sex with any of the people I've listed. It may even be difficult to prove you didn't sexually harass or abuse me, or have a consensual affair with me at some point in my life. So, I'm going to your enemies, and the media to tell the sad tale of my involvement with you. Hope you understand.

One thing I never did was visit any universities in NY or Pennsylvania. But I am not sure I can prove that.

Kudos to GQ

I do not read GQ or any other magazine. However, in waiting rooms, like at the tire store or elsewhere, I do read boating mags, and other things of that nature, depending on what is available. I don't read GQ even if nothing is available but that and Cosmo. In that case, I read nothing. Cosmo because it is evil propaganda designed to warp minds, and GQ because they haven't figured out what a fashion plate I am. They don't write about me, then what's the point of reading their publication?

But this bit of news caught my attention; they just published a list of the "25 least influential people alive". Obama is #25 and John Boehner is #24. #3 is Ed Schutlz of The Ed Show. #1 is Tim Pawlenty, one time republican hopeful in the presidential contest debacle.

For some reason it cracks me up. It is pretty much true, I think. The article didn't give the entire list. They mention some other people who are unknown to me, so I saw no point in relaying those names. I know who these people are. Not always sure they know who they are, though.

Well, GQ's accountants and tax attorneys should probably gear up because I suspect a nasty audit by the IRS will soon befall them.

Just judging by the way the GM thing was handled--you know, when dealerships were forced to close and it seemed based on who that dealer's owners supported for president more than on profitability. They ended up having to back pedal a bit on that but it wasn't loudly stated in the news.

The point is that when you displease this administration you get screwed. That may be true of any administration. It is my belief that this is why no one ever opts to get rid of the IRS. If you are in power, it is like having your own private KGB.

Got to wonder what's up when the most influential (and I'm guessing here) media person is probably Jon Stewart, a comedian.

Barring Certain Possible Obstacles, the Journey is On

Never mind what the possible obstacles are. A little scare is generally a wake up call, and being very fortunate on a regular basis, in my case there is no problem.

The really good news is that G1 of Memphis Snakedocs, my old band, is going to come through with the amp trade. Sometimes I wish I'd been less mad at him at times in the past. I think I could have handled things better. I'm sure I could have.

Anyway, despite butting heads, we are friends. I guess, even in the old days, if he'd been in a bind and I could find a way to help, I would have. And, in most cases, I guess he'd have done the same.

I'll trade my Mesa Boogie for the Fender Bassman with the 12" speaker cab. It is better for playing my style of harmonica, and the other will serve better for his guitar adventures. I forget how many guitars he has now--maybe 13, if that is possible. And he rarely buys junk, if ever.

He sold me the Mesa for a song, relatively speaking, so trading it even for the Bassman means I am getting it for a song. I'd say I owe him one because I'd never have known what a suitable rig that is if I hadn't tried it when I was last through Memphis. He went to the trouble to bring it along when the guys set up everything to jam with me.

He's going to try to arrange for another jam of some kind when I go through on the 20th or 21st. That is the tentative time frame as things now stand. A few unexpected expenses came up which may cut into how I do this trip, but I have to go.

The new rig is so much easier to deal with, so I am more likely to try to find opportunities to use it.

This day was one in which I felt out of phase, like I must of said and done only stupid and offensive things for the last week. I don't really know specifics, just the way I felt.

Then Cliff, Kevin and Lauren, of Copper Creek, our group here on Ballistic Mtn, asked if I could make it to an open mic at a music store down toward El Cajon. At the last minute I found a way to make it. It was very quiet, low key, and lit up like retail stores tend to be. No ambiance in the mood light department.

Nice people. I say that because they gave me a good reception and acted like I was OK. Some of the regular hotshots--the ones that play other places and seem to be considered the big deal there, asked for "the harmonica guy" when they got up to play. So, I had my flattery fix for the day and it took my mind off of being paranoid and uncertain in my society of friends and acquaintances.

Not enough mics, and even though there was PA, I just played without any amplification. You could hear it throughout the room so it worked out. I just tried to play louder and really work on producing good tone. It is so easy to play harmonica sideman.

I may be a little bit not quite right in some ways, but I am pretty fortunate in how people treat me. I am very grateful for that. Kindness goes a long way, so never regret giving it out. You may never know the benefit it yields, but chances are a small gesture can be very uplifting to someone who needs it.

A Little Late for Eulogy

Even so, since I just finished reading Sphere by Michael Crichton, I realize I am sorry he is no longer among the living. The guy was really quite brilliant.

I think I want to read State of Fear again. So, there you have it; Michael Crichton made his mark on the world and was head and shoulders above those who made movies from his works when it comes to imagination and intelligence. I doubt he owned a Che T-shirt. If he did, I have this thing all wrong.

TV Review--X Factor

How I ended up watching that is of no consequence. The odd show, X Factor has not darkened my own TV screen, though. However, it can be perversely addicting.

So, they have a few people on there that ought to be touring and recording. One guy in particular. I think his name is Jason and he works at a Taco place. No question that this guy is the real deal, and has something extra that is hard to define, and that can't be taught. I'd want him to front my band, if I were putting one together.

They canned the next best person. I figure, if you are going for someone who could record and perform, appeal to a large audience and who shows the potential to last, then why do they keep that obnoxious, bratty 12 year old rap creep? This kid is useless. But I have a theory about their refusal to get rid of him. More on that in a sec.

There's a girl on that show from Florida somewhere who is also a quality performer and singer. They did not can her yet. Actually Simon did at some earlier point in this fiasco, then went to her house and said come back, that he was wrong. Good thing because she's OK in my book.

Now what I think is up with this kid who has dubbed himself "Asstro" (spelling is mine, not his), is that his parents have some pull and the panel is under pressure not toss the little psychopath back in the psycho bucket. I don't know all the judges names, but I think the one on the far left, L.A. something is the kid's bio dad.

Asstro's mom is as full of bad attitude as her darling mutant offspring. I do not believe these people are poor, so I'm not buying any hard luck sympathy story that may or may not have been put forth. I haven't watched enough or been told enough to know if any such drivel was put in the mix.

Since that judge is her bio dad, and Mrs Asstro has threatened to go pubic with the whole sordid affair and ruin his life if little A gets booted, he puts up with the kid refusing to follow the same parameters all the other contestants are required to meet. The reason the rest of the panel buckled is that L.A? hired thugs and private investigators to dig up dirt on them, blackmail them and threaten bodily harm to their loved ones.

They don't know it was their beloved colleague who is behind it. So, the poster boy for why abortion ought to be legal, or even mandatory sometimes, gets to continue to have his time in the spotlight.

It just goes to show that life is not always fair, and especially in show biz, pushy creeps get more than they deserve. But, in the long run I still believe life has a way of making sure consequences catch up. Not everyone believes that, but I've noticed it often works out in fairly short order. I've seen big drug families and mafia types back in Miami, and it is amazing how their lives are so rich in tragedy of one sort or another. Ill gotten gains spend poorly.

Still, that doesn't let this panel off the hook. At least if Jason wins we'll know they have at least a shred of integrity. I've rarely seen anyone on national velvet or whatever it was called--that's right, American Idol--never seen any of those people who had that presence and pure magic this guy exudes. It really is rare. And the vocal is at once haunting, engaging, and real. Not one of those show tune, overly vain pretenders who learn how to appear to have heart.

I used to dislike Simon, but from what I've seen of this, he is the sanest of the crew of judges. The production crap behind the singers is way over the top, but maybe they have some unknown reason for all the glitz and nonsensical production numbers. Makes Elvis and Graceland look tasteful. And I liked Elvis in his early days, but believe me, he's not one you'd want doing your home decorating, or picking out your clothes.

So, I'm curious to see if they do the right thing in the end, and if they ever get rid of that creepy kid in this process. If not then this is a ripe opportunity for an investigative reporter to discover the corruption which has allowed Asstro to hold them hostage.

I may have it wrong and he might be Simon's secret son. But I get the idea that Simon doesn't like the kid but he's being forced to pretend the kid has some kind of value and character. He spun the kid's public displays of disrespect, whining, and baby -like behavior as "passion". He had to be up all night to come up with that.

My impression was that he was trying to figure out how to avoid saying the kid deserved to be there because of his talent and performances, and at the same time appear to be paying him a compliment. Yea, I think Simon was under duress as were the two high strung women on the panel. Something very fishy about this whole thing.

That's the trick though. Get you to watch just because you know something is up and because you hate the creep they won't can. It is almost as bad as shows that have a laff track. Clever and not so clever mental manipulation.

But seriously, that Jason guy could be a great addiction to the world of contemporary music. I wouldn't pin him to a genre because he could do rock, country, maybe jazz, R&B, pure blues and do it very well.

Maybe I should be a promoter and/or music producer. I know what works, even though those around me rarely believe it. My picks and ideas have panned out in small time ways and more remotely in the big picture.