Daydreaming 61012

It is a good sign when I find myself, once again, daydreaming, mind wandering and in a place not quite given to normal space and time. Now if only I can find a design for something which I haven't been able to find in the marketplace.

I need a sander, or better yet, an attachment for a normal finish sander which will sand cylindrical things like the round legs of teak furniture. There must be something out there that conforms to varying diameter cylinder shapes. I guess if it just spun around you'd be sanding cross grain. I'm after the tiny orbital vibrations a finish sander relies upon.

It is easier to have the paper on the outside of a drum, from the point of view of the sander. I get that. But I thought a handy device would be on the market. Maybe no one has come up with a good design.

You can get the job done if you are good with a regular flat 1/4 sheet device, but I want better. And I don't like having to resort to doing so much by hand.

I've learned a lot about the world of teak frustration, and I figured out that the high end stuff, if people want it to look like it did new, which is unnatural, you go about it a little differently than I have. What I did was not bad, but the sun and elements take a toll. Plus there are some things which do not work well at all, even if various literature, manufacturer suggestions, etc. lead in those directions.

I'm all for epoxy paint. Choose a color and forget it looking like wood. I'm alone in that so here we go again. It was clever to get a quote from a specialty outfit. The house manager decided that maybe there was more to this stuff than she thought.

Money is money, and unless the Mormons want to pay me big money for playing Johnny B Goode, I'd better take work as it presents itself. I thought maybe I could make some dough in Obama's Venezuela presidency bid, but I'd probably just vote for the upstart guy and get caught. He'll have to deal with that campaign, and this one without much help from me. Maybe I could get paid to remake Mitt. If I could radicalize him in my image, I'd vote for him. Big if. But I am probably not getting paid by any of those people, except in my daydream schemes.

Mitt is Mormon, and I do have the inside line there. And with the Lutherans. Maybe some Jews and Catholics will insist I play for their rituals and festivities. You never know, I may expand into Buddhist or Hindu festivities. I must admit, I like the sound of the music and language in some of the Bollywood productions. Hindi. Very pretty for singing the love song.

Todavía soy un hombre joven.

Wow. Translation software has certainly improved. I put in the sentence, "I am still a young man.", in babelfish, and had it translate into Chinese. I then copied the Chinese translation, and entered it to be translated to Spanish. Then just to check I had it translated back to English.

Expecting a result similar to the instructions for a made in China BB pistol--like the ones I supplied at Christmas one year---I was shocked to see the result: "I'm still a young man." It picked up the contraction along the way and that is it.

"Why that phrase?", one may wonder. Well I was daydreaming about the situation in Venezuela, thinking how Hugo Chavez is going to combat the upstart Henrique Capriles who is running against him in the October election. Young and healthy guy against an unhealthy sociopath (if you ask me).

Hugo is busy giving out apartments and pensions, spending money like there is not tomorrow. Very possibly, for him, there isn't. Besides, it isn't his money.

Then I thought about Obama. It seems a great way to hedge his bets. Hugo could tell people, "Don't worry about my health, about which I lie all the time. If I kick the bucket, and Obama, for some reason doesn't get reelected, he can replace me. You won't notice a thing."

Hugo before he fell apart completely. He looks religious, but that is actually a drug delivery device, and a lollipop. He tries, but not the stuff of T-shirts, like his idol, the late comrade Che.

So, Obama is talking to his advisors, like the guy with the motorized Mr Potato head eyebrows, and he says, hey if we blow it, I can get my chops back by being El Presidente in Venezuela, and since I am still a young man, I can come back in four years, and serve at least 2 more terms. Maybe we can get term limits suspended, or even elections when the only ones running against us are the bad guys. Once I'm in, who needs interference by voters or their representatives. It is the bane of the presidency--people don't always get that you need absolute power, dammit.

So, that is how the whole babelfish experiment came about. I thought it made sense that the big O would be trying to say things in Spanish. I was thinking he might just go down there and run in that election, too. Except it is before ours. His big talking point against Hugo would be that he's still a young man. Everyone thinks Chavez is likely to die at any minute, so it could sway the votes. Policy-wise, no real difference, most likely.

If he wins there, and wins here, then I'm not sure what happens. He could just let Mr Potatohead motorized eyebrows run Venezuela. Or run everything. But O would have to hang here so he can keep Air Force One. If he used it for official Venezuela business, people would be displeased. It's OK for vacations and for campaigning though.

Who knows, Venezuela could become the 58th or 59th state--however many we have plus one.

I'm not too sure where this story goes. It is full of holes as is the way of daydreams, but I think I explained my visit to the world of free translations.

That Reminds Me

Some of my very kind friends tend to believe I am easily prone to heartbreak. How can I explain to them that I am nearly heartless?

It would be hard for them to believe, that while I am a compassionate, sympathetic soul, I am otherwise too heartless for heartbreak. Granted, it is an acquired art, but one which, when mastered, becomes a well entrenched part of the being.

There are those who think that is a sad thing. Believe me, it can save you a lot of money. You coldly calculate the cost of flying to Colorado, for example, against the probable outcome, and then you weigh your sacrifice against that of the potential heartbreaker, and you say, "Screw that!". It is not an angry thing, just the way of one who has learned that one is a fool to gamble on such things.

I used to rush in where angels feared to tread because it was so absurdly unlikely to yield good result, I figured only the smitten, over passionate zealot would undertake such a mission. I signed up because I thought such intense, illogical emotion was cool. Now I see that a bit of calculated prudence is more likely to pay off in the long haul. And now I enjoy being heartless and unassailable.

Besides, even now, there is that part of me which feels too much compassion for others to ever let anyone worthy get too close. I know I'd only bring pain, or experience it. It is a lose-lose until the exact right situation is found, and that may never happen.

Marketplace Reviews From Auto Repair to Teak Products

Now that I have a new bottle of Richard's Delicious Seasoning, my life is again moving forward. There, for awhile, it seemed as if I was frozen in time and space, yet the rest of the world was slowly closing in upon me. Richard's to the rescue. The crisis is over. Thank you Mt. T. Not that big odd looking mohawk head guy.

So, after they fixed my car due to the rude and rowdy deer attack, all was well for several days--a week or so. Then, all of a sudden as I was cruising at 70mph on Thee 8, the check engine light illuminated, the cruise light began blinking, and cruise control was not operating.

A little research revealed the fact that on a Subaru the cruise light flashes and cruise won't operate when the check engine light comes on. Most of the time, when a check engine light is steady, it means something to do with emissions is amiss, and it won't hurt anything (that someone like me cares about) to procrastinate. If that light is flashing, pull over and see who will show up the quickest to drain your wallet.

I disconnected the battery for awhile because doing that will often clear the light and if it was a fluke of some kind, it won't come back on, or it may take it some time to again make itself known. In my case it came back on within less than five seconds.

Then the idle began to be peculiar, dropping so low that the car would die at stop lights. I went to an independent shop that specializes in Subarus to get the code identified. They said it just happened to be one that requires a dealer specific computer to pin down. It is a sneaky thing manufacturers sometimes do.

It turns out that the tubes which surround the plugs and isolate them from the oily hooplah going on under the rocker covers were leaking oil to the outside of one or more plugs. The dealer guy and the mechanic took me back to the service bay to see for myself. Big points for El Cajon Subaru. Obviously not run by the families of the El Cajon branch of the CA Highway Patrol.

The tubes rely on gaskets similar to O-ring seals and I guess these things can happen. The bad news is that it is kind of a pain to get to and labor costs mucho dinero. So, I bit the bullet, silently, reverently thanked what seems to watch out for me that I had the money to pay it, and here I am.

I had to leave it for a day, and since they were being well compensated for my misfortune, a rental car was provided. From the same outfit that supplied the car when the body shop fixed the deer damage. I was rather pleased that that beautiful girl, whatsername, remembered me. "Don't tell me another deer got in your way!", she chided.

This time I ended up with a Toyota Yuris. Y something that ends in s. It is great on fuel, a little squirrelly at highway speed, and not the visibility I'm used to. The ceiling seemed to be almost bumping my head, and the seat did not go any lower. I got used to it. It is an OK car.

I'll bet lots of parents buy those cars for their spoiled kids. I'd seek out something a bit more ergonomic with better visibility, but it is better than getting the kid a Mustang or a Suburban. The former for his sake, the latter for ours.

So far I think all is well with the repair. I'm not positive it isn't leaking slightly from the valve covers though because I smell a bare hint of oil after driving, when I walk past the front of the car. It could be nothing, or it could be as I suspect. I'll keep an eye on it. If it proves not to be anything bad, then I'll give Hung Phu the service writer, and Mr. Clean, the bald mechanic, high marks. I did appreciate the attitude of both, and know that if there is any issue they won't jerk me around.

OK. I wasted too much space for my other reviews: Glenview door and glass or is it screen and door?, Alpine Glass and Door, and San Diego Marine Exchange on Shelter Island.

Shelter Island is right there off Point Loma. Absolutely my favorite part of San Diego.

Money Making Scheme #6-3-12

OK. It is inevitable so why fight it? Sooner or later this obesity thing is going to get personal.

I'm thinking that the thing to do is to be prepared; design mobile scale units which take into account your height, and whatever other factors are there so then Obesity agents can cruise around pulling people over, force them to get on the scale and instantly have a readout of the degree to which they are off of the prescribed mark. The fine would be automatically computed.

I know it is coming, so I figure if I have the cool design for such a vehicle, I'll sell tons of them to the various levels of government who choose to be involved. Of course, NYC may be the first on board, but California hates to be out nannied so they may press ahead in some surprise move.

I don't care, I'll sell to anyone. Of course I expect the agents to be armed and dangerous, so I'll take that into account. I may have the option of installing something akin to a cow catcher on the front so they can scoop people into a sling scale set up as they walk down the sidewalk. Maybe smaller electric versions for malls and park paths. This will be fun and lucrative.

The Show Was OK

Forgive me if I repeat myself. I don't think I ever reported on the show with the Mormon tabernacle choir.

Well, it was a highly abbreviated version, and there were drums, guitars and a keyboard. In any case it was a successful outing. I heard the fundraiser was a success, and that there is talk of wanting this group to play more, and questions about the cost. That means maybe I'll get paid if I do another gig with them.

They were very gracious, the crowd was nice and their little children sparkled. I guess, other than me, it was a Mormon group playing for a mormon church. They must have a lot of them around here. I've seen two, and both have indoor basketball courts that double as auditoriums with a full stage on one side.

The band people made it clear that they'd like me to play in the future. That remains to be seen though. Some things are best kept within your own group in these situations. Although I did have a great time playing the show.

Still, no one has mentioned Mitt Romney or tried to induct me or sacrifice me. Whatever anyone thinks, or whatever the ins and outs of that religion may be, the people I encountered, other than the soundman twit, are very nice and pleasant to work with. Good singers.

So, I guess it was an OK thing to do. I even wore m one pair of regular human being trousers instead of jeans. Since Mitt is always dressed up, I figured they would be. Most of them were in jeans and T shirts. I kept my shades on to add some edge, and because I was encouraged to do that. I guess they think it gives me a harmonica blues appearance.

Life goes on

I Guess It Is Just Me

The fact that anyone even debates the wisdom of things like overregulation of sodas, calories, and the like, baffles me to no end.

I caught a sound bite of Mayor Bloomberg, in which he claimed his efforts to control behavior either do, or will, add three years to average life expectancy.

Then he said the thing that blew me away, (I may have some words not verbatim here, but the meaning, I do have--and the last part is word for word) "If that isn't the role of government, then I don't know what is".

For once that elitist wannabe lord of the land said something with which I agree. Yes, you meddling dimwit-with-a-superiority-complex, you clearly do not know the proper role and function of government.

It is obvious that half the country hasn't any clear view in that respect or the rebuttal to this would not be debates over whether soft drinks are the culprit in the lives of the allegedly obese. The proper rebuttal is BUTT OUT, it is none of your business! Or perhaps a less kind two word retort ending in ".... you!!!!".

cute eh? There was a time when the average American would have been offended by such cute imperatives dished out in a paternalistic patronizing manor. "It's for a good cause" Blow me! ---apologies to more refined readers, I can't help it

We've seen the stuff of fiction, like the books 1984 and Brave New World, dangerously employed in our every day lives, bit by bit. Because so few spend time away from all the external input and conditioning, the bulk of the population is suffering from the slow boil syndrome.

That is the one illustrated by the scene of putting a frog in a pot of room temperature water, then heating up the pot ever so slowly. The creature doesn't know he's being cooked until it is too late. He's a goner.

I am regularly shocked by our pot of regulations and controls because I am way out of the mainstream. When I was working for a corporation I remember finally getting somewhat accustomed to the odd language, the pretense, the generally bizarre way highly regulated businesses, and those with government contracts think. They jump through hoops in order to keep the supply of doggy treats coming from their master.

And they train themselves to think and believe what has been dictated, recoiling from acknowledging the realities labeled tabu. Get the brainwash thing rolling and people finish it off on their own.

Being there exposed me more to general pop culture and the behavior of people who watch lots of popular TV. It influences them, and it influenced me. To a point. The extent to which even the main office of the corporation reflected the nonsense was a little frustrating to say the least. It was definitely something out of foresighted fiction I'd read many years ago.

When people hear something enough, through pop culture media, news, public service ads, political and charity grandstanders, etc., it sounds normal and becomes internalized as real and right. The majority of people are most readily receptive to controls and ideas which they see as affecting the behavior and finances of others, not themselves.

Incremental tyranny tends to work such that those not clearly being targeted feel rewarded for being normal and part of the big group who isn't weird, rich, or in defiance. They bask in a sense of solidarinosc.

Because there often is a kernel of evil doing which is targeted by great ideas their representatives concoct, the fact that they are being manipulated and duped is either ignored or missed altogether.

These days most people think their representatives and the people they hire to run governmental matters are somewhat corrupt. Most people don't think they are being presented the honest facts, but they are conditioned to conclude that this is how things are and only a fool complains about it. After all, what makes me or anyone else outside the loop think they know better?

What can you do about it? Ha! You can't do anything, so shut up! That's what I told Ghandi. Stubborn old fool.

One thing I might do is have a case of sugary drinks sent to Bloomberg's office. I'll tamper with them first to make sure they leak. No, I won't do that.

Just because I don't sway your statist central controlling government views doesn't mean I have not influenced anyone else. I actually have.

If you want to justify governmental personal behavior modification strategies by citing studies which indicate these measures are for our own good, be careful. Consider the studies done on things you may enjoy doing or eating.

What will you do when the wheel lands on some type of meat you enjoy, surfing, or bike riding, or other activity which is more dangerous than staying home? Is red meat still considered evil? I don't keep up. Eggs go off and on the list of killer foods. No way squid can get a free ride. Just the smell is enough to generate emergency legislation.

Actually, life itself tends to be fatal. Oh, that is not so ridiculous as I thought, they do seem to be heading toward outlawing living life, if not life itself.

I'm waiting for the fat tax to be levied according to Body Mass Index. Forget genetics or how you feel. You must conform!!

Beside the fact that no central authority has a right to tell free people what to eat and drink, some people appear to be healthier and happier with a little fat here and there.

If this was even close to a reasonably free country, statements like, "We must address our obesity crisis!" would never be entertained, and certainly not uttered with a straight face by any sane person.

All the "we" and "our" this and that talk does not land well on my ears. Speak for yourself. I'll address my own obesity crisis, if one exists, and it ain't my children, so don't talk to me about "our children are our greatest resource". It makes you sound like a slave trader.

NYC Must Have No Real Problems

That is all I can conclude when the mayor and his posse have nothing better to do than to outlaw big non-diet Cokes.

All must be peace, love and tranquility when the long arm of the law has nowhere else to go but in your mouth.

Like The Drake Passage On a Rough Day

(pic source:993.6a00d83451b05569e20133ecd09d1e970b-900wi.jpg)

But frozen in time, covered with boulders and chaparral and other low lying green stuff, and scaled up a bit. There are trees here and there, rarely more than fifteen or twenty feet in height. That is pretty much what the landscape is like in my neck of the woods. Like the seas down there by Cape Horn, when the going gets tough, there is not much rhyme or reason, just ups and downs in all directions.

Imagine how it is in a boat rounding the Horn where the oceans meet violently on a day when warm and cold currents collide. Waves appear not in rows so much as in random chaos. As you plunge to the trough of one, you look up to see crests on all sides, not just in the direction you are heading.

Here the peaks and valleys are sometimes faced with ragged stone, often peppered with bus sized boulders, and often not. And from where I sit I can see the largest swells maybe 20 miles to the north, and the ones at my level closing off the view on the horizon five or ten miles away.

Always, it seems, the horizon is a pale, misty gray green. It is when it finds itself more than just a few miles in the distance.

I can picture this as a huge ocean to a race of giants. It could change color and resume its motion, and there you'd be. What would be the equivalent of 40 foot waves would be 400 or 4000 feet. I'm not being very precise with the scaling of this picture. The giants would be larger than anyone I know. That is safe to say.

The shape holds pretty much true. So, that is how it is. Someone was on my case because I could offer no acceptable verbal description. There it is. Throw in rabbits everywhere, some squirrels, rattle snakes, coyotes, couple of mountain lions, plenty of California rednecks, horsies, of course, random assorted oddities, and here we are.

Don't forget a bright blue sky most of the time. Way up there, not low like Miami. But then when it gets cloudy, the clouds are right down here with me, usually. The wet clouds. Once in awhile the puffy, decorative ones float around a few thousand feet up. Mostly, all that is not land is a clear confident blue, not unlike the blue seen on many computer screens.

When The Free Man's Mentality Clashes With Good Deeds

People, often including me, tend to think I am a bit unrealistic in my disdain for regulation and governmental oversight.

Today, I listened to various Memorial Day things on the car radio while watching a golden eagle soar against a clear, bright blue sky up on the Sunrise Highway. I could look down toward Pine Valley, and see peaks in all directions. I was at about 4000 feet and peaks in the distance at about 6000 feet. While taking in this bit of the American experience, I recalled how one of my best laid plans was rendered null and void by the usual suspects.

It was four years ago, almost to the day, that I first set foot in San Diego. Reviewing that adventure must have helped trigger the memory. That, and listening to various charity people on the radio discuss their wonderful efforts and how compassionate they are.

I'm not criticizing their work or who benefits. But the system is what it is, and no amount of self aggrandizement on the part of alleged non-profits can change that. I know it is impolite to say so.

When I lived in Memphis, I actually purchased a small condo in a high rise. It was on the tenth floor and had a little balcony that overlooked the parking lot and the wooded parks to the east. At that height one can see some distance. It is strange though how seeing only a few miles there seemed a big deal, whereas here I can see 8 or 9 miles from my deck. My friends in Point Loma can see the lights of Tijuana approximately 20 miles to the south.

Anyway, there were a couple of things which caused me to decide I could not live in the condo. I was experiencing a period of very heavy struggle with that pit which uncertainty, depression and isolation can facilitate. That 100 foot plus drop to the parking lot looked too inviting for comfort. Also, I thought the kind of living which involves gated parking lots, and elevators to reach home might be too confining, and could further my extreme tendency to isolate.

I elected to rent the place to others, while I continued to rent a place for me. Seems an odd arrangement, but I don't regret it. My rental was relatively dirt cheap and was in a good place, among trees, within walking distance of movies and stores.

The condo building was close to St Jude's Children's Hospital. I knew from various sources that people often need to stay for periods of time while their children undergo treatment for serious conditions.

I still remember, from my days working at the airport, the family who would fly in and out every now and then, who had a girl who was in late stages of cerebral palsy. I assumed that to be the condition. Her mother let me carry her onto the airplane and into her seat. She was light as a feather, maybe 14 or 15 years old.

I offered because the mom looked worn and exhausted, and I liked the girl. She knew what was up, and I could make her smile, almost laugh. Just one of those cases in which you feel love for someone without any reason. Something about her just glowed. And she obviously caught my irreverent humor and off the wall remarks.

I hatched a plan to rent my place cheaper than what hotels and such would cost, for months or weeks at a time, to families at the hospital. Not all of them qualify for the official charities' help but it is a real strain on them.

It wouldn't take very much for me to meet the dreaded condo association fees, insurance and that sort of thing. It would have been a win-win situation, and I know I would have really made it easy for people like my friends from the aiprort.

OH NO!!! You can't do that because the state and city and the hotel board consider such activity to be a hotel, and...no, absolutely not. Don't even think about it.

Then the condo board started making rules that said if 50% of the units in the building were already rented out, then you could not rent your place. Two or three tycoons happened to own just about 50% of the units, which they rented.

I gave up the idea, and took it as a sign from Above that I needed to sell the place before I left Memphis for the great Western Unknown. Too much complication to hold onto it, rent it, and deal with ever changing regulations.

About the time my second renter moved in, they made a rule that they had to do some sort of background check on renters, and charge me a fee for it. Then they decided that if you had a renter, you had to pay a higher condo fee. Admittedly my renter looked a little shaggy, but I went on instinct and believed he'd pay up, and that he would make no trouble. In fact he was the type that would carry the old lady's groceries for her, voluntarily, so she didn't have to struggle with her wares and the elevator.

I think they resented someone not of the tycoon circle thinking his property rights were his to exercise as long as no harm or problems resulted. That is not how those places operate.

My renter paid on time every time. He'd had some hard times and was trying to get his life back in order. Most likely he'd not have satisfied the usual rental scrutiny, but he was probably a better tenant than the majority of those who do. If something needed work, he'd offer to help fix it or fix it himself.

Trying to quantify every aspect of human life in order to control it is proving over and over to be disastrous. Yet we ramp up the efforts in that direction. I am not sure of the proper, better paradigm, but I am sure it is worth attempting to shift the model. For one thing, it would help to employ more of the old school thing of deciding about a person face to face, rather than by feeding elements of resumes and reports into a computerized algorithm.

I happen to be suspect of the fact that due to our corrupt, ill conceived tax structure, that only officially approved charities count and are accepted. They become bureaucracies and corrupt, themselves. Or not. But it should not be so hard to do things individually without a bunch of hooplah. Of course you get no tax break, but the tax code is an ass, and shouldn't be such that you do or don't get a break.

At least the state of Tennessee and the City of Memphis were saved from a bootleg hotel competing for the business of people who have second mortgages, if that, so they can sink all they have into the costs of keeping up with a child going through cancer treatment and such in a distant town. I feel better knowing that all enterprises are so highly regulated. If government controls it, you know it is safe and good.