Many Disagree

...but I cannot help thinking this country is being overrun with a misguided neo-Bolshevik mentality. It is so stunning at times that I can hardly articulate what I see as the error of it all.

From unemployed unionizing and asking questions like, "Where is my job, Mr. President?", to officials in NYC taking it upon themselves to regulate the free will purchase of popcorn and beverages containing sugar, to hundreds of issues which involve "the public sector" controlling or regulating things beyond what their authority should be in a free world.

A union of unemployed implies that the state is the default employer. Frustration I get. Statists, I do not get. They don't realize that what is seen as corrupt corporatism mostly exists because we've allowed government to have such power. The companies not in bed with the government are far less likely to be corrupt.

Big unions are only another form of the same thing and all the big ones are heavily enmeshed with the state. Sad, but they are not truly the friend of those they allegedly represent. Not in the long run. Or even the short run in my view.

That's it. Dear America, that Bolshevik routine does not bring happiness. It sucks.

Meaning of Life

I heard on the street that people have pondered the meaning of life for eons. My conclusion is that the meaning of life is life. It just is. So, the point of life is simply to live it.

People like me need to have a little definition to the thing because we are easily sidetracked by the various pressures society of others brings, amplified by our own minds. I can make a huge thing out of nothing, eventually concluding that one good option is to dive off the north rim of the Grand Canyon, without even an umbrella to break the fall. I'm pretty sure that is not the best way to think.

How to live is probably the better question, rather than asking what does it mean to live and all that. Asking for the meaning of life is like looking for hidden meaning in gravity or an apple. This is where what is is comes into play. It is, and that is all to say about it.

Now, there has also been discussion regarding whether what we experience is all illusion, it is only a dream, blablabla. Dream or not, the condition is what we have to work with, and if a deer hits your car, it will wipe out your fender. Whether it is really a dream deer and a dream fender, or not, the result is the same. You are in this dream and your car needs fixing when that crazy animal attacks. Maybe it is a dream that you are thirsty, but if you don't drink some water, sooner or later you are going to be dream dead.

But, on the lighter side, believing that life's meaning is intrinsic unto itself, then you are free to simply live it, and possibly take out some of the guilt for not being a doctor of physics, or for not having lots of kids, or for just being. Whittling down the view of being somehow makes me feel a little easier, and reminds me that I have choices. I can alter my path by applying simple laws of physics and intuitive knowledge; like the trash goes away if I put it in something and take it away.

Now the big internal debate is whether to hock the farm for an inflatable Hobie kayak, with the mirage drive, and maybe even the sail option. Or not. Inflatable is the choice because it can be compacted into a manageable pack that stores inside the car or cabin, rather than on top of the car or out in the yard. It is the best plan for the vagabond. I also think it probably has advantages in rougher water, although some speed may be sacrificed. The mirage drive lets you power it with your legs, and I know from experience that it works well and you can go fast. Seems stupid until you check it out for yourself.

You can also paddle like the traditional kayak, and easily pull the mirage drive system out. This is the way to do it in water only a few inches deep, for sure.

Hobie wouldn't promote that system if it was hokie. Hobie is synonymous with cool. That's why they chose to use the B in their name and not the K.

So, save the trip to the Himalayas looking for the guru meditating on a mountain peak. He'll tell you what I just did. The meaning of life is life.

A philosophy/logic professor once told us a story about someone seeking that answer.

The story is drawn out, but after going to one aesthetic and guru after another, the guy seeking the answer was directed to a guru high on a mountain. It was one of those treacherous journeys to get there. Finally he arrives and the old guru's answer to the question is, "What does a seven pound overcoat weigh?" The guy is perplexed, "But what is the meaning of life?"

Again the mystic replies, "What does a seven pound overcoat weigh?"

I think the point is that the answer is self evident in the question. Perhaps meaning only exists if life exists. And everything is part of life, and alive in one way or another. There is more empty space between known bits of energy and matter than there is anything else. Maybe it isn't as empty as they think. More to life than meets the eye. And sometimes less.

An inflatable 12' Hobie kayak weighs 61.5 pounds.

I thought Hugo Was Always a Hit

It must be untrue that any mention of Hugo Chavez brings a multitude of ideas, comments and passions. You mean to tell me that you don't stay awake nights wondering if he'll be re-elected? Or may die in a Cuban hospital before summer is over?

I'm shocked.

Speaking of shocked, as I was leaving practice, up the mountain at K and L's house, I started down the steep, narrow winding road back home, and noticed some movement by my windshield wipers. Holy smoke, that's a large mouse!!

So, I fumbled for the wiper switch and flung that sucker off into the dark, I think. It was great. That rodent's shock could be seen and felt. Then I see one on the middle of the hood.

You can't go too fast on that road, but I was on a very steep grade and nearing the bottom. I sped up a bit, then slammed on the brakes. The creepy thing couldn't keep its footing and went sliding off the front of the car. I immediately gunned it so it couldn't climb back up.

Since it was dark there was no way I could look in the rear view mirror to see if he was in the road cursing me or gesturing rudely. With luck, there will be no more. I'm not sure where they came from. I know Cliff the guitar player has mouse in car issues. It is a running battel, but he lives in a more wooded area of this neighborhood, and things are more conducive to that problem at his place than at mine. I parked by a pile of wood chips and brush cuttings.

I still don't get what was happening. It was like they dropped there from a drone or outer space.

It was fun to watch that mouse being flung the wipers and the other one go sliding off the hood. I don't think it was the same one, but it is possible the wiper ride did not throw the stupid animal as far as it appeared it would. I could only see him being flung toward the top of the wiper arc.

Bears, mice and rats take far too much advantage of humans inability to hold these critters to even a minimum level of civility and respect for private property. I think they should all be taught a lesson.

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.