Ever catch yourself behaving in the same manner which you found troublesome in someone else? Then you realize that had it not been for the person who ruffled your feathers you wouldn't realize you were doing, or about to do, the very same thing to someone else.
What a conundrum. It takes all the self righteous wind right out of your sails. You can no longer feel quite as justified in feeling wronged, on the one hand, and justified in setting someone straight--when it wasn't my business-- on the other.
When my energy level is low, like today, I wonder if I am capable of any direct communication with others which won't find me making more blunders than politicians from Delaware and Missouri. Of course I have no claim to the kind of pension such blunderheads often enjoy, so I guess it doesn't hurt me as much in that way. But I have an active conscience, and a desire not to step on the sanctity and rights of other humans which may very likely lead to a bit more angst in my case.
It may sound like I'm making the case that I am a better person, in some spiritual or moral sense than some of the politicians to whom I've alluded. I guess I'd have to say that most of my friends and acquaintances are better people by my measure than most politicians I've followed. As am I. Sorry, but while I consider than all should have equal opportunity and protection under the law, I guess I can't deny that I think some individuals are better human beings than others.
I do not think Che, Stalin, Castro, Hitler and people like that are good people. Most likely you agree. That would mean that you, too, believe some people are better than others in that sense. Many churches seem to think that way or they wouldn't bestow sainthood on some but not others.
I just had a discussion with a lady who claimed there is not truth; that my truth is true for me and someone else's truth is true for them. I asked if that meant if my truth was that a bullet in my head would not kill or maim me if that was still valid truth. She said it would be for me. I suppose my truth would default to reality after the funeral.
If one assumes absolutely no absolutes exist, then how can people carry on any meaningful discussion? Some definitions have to be in place or it is all gibberish. Speaking the same language indicates a tacit agreement on the meaning of at least some sounds and words. That implies a bit of universal truth. Either a chair is a chair or it is not a chair. Of course, there are nuances and varying meanings which occur, but all it takes is a small portion of the language to be concrete to make the point.
What happens when people adhere to her view, which is very much stuff of the sixties, is that people pick and choose when to agree with accepted meanings and when to decide their truth is in play. The issue of rights is a perfect example.
All people should have unalienable human rights; an assertion with which most in our country would agree. The Islamic governments may have a severely abridged version of that. Then people of my friend's school of thought decide that the word right means something other than what I would think, or what it generally meant in 1800. It's a complicated world and very tough to find harmony and peace unless one remains incommunicado.
But that is just no fun. The desire for socialization is a characteristic of our species. Not to be confused with socialism. Although allocating the use and beneficiaries of the resources of others does appear to be a popular hobby of many of our kind.
Allocating my own resources, such as they are, is enough of a challenge for me. Deciding what to do with your time, effort, money and property is probably not best left to me. That's part of the summertime blues I think.
The heat and energy sapping weather leave me lethargic, tired and low on brain power. That leads me to do less than optimal allocating of my resources. I waste time, lose track of ideas, and generally don't look at the world around me, spot the possibly opportunities to fill a demand or maximize my enjoyment or that of others, and act so that these opportunities become concrete reality. Nope. I just can't wait for the chance to sleep and keep cool.
Now maybe I can convince myself that my truth states that I am really working hard and doing the best I can, and that I am really rich, married to the hottest most beautiful perfect woman possible, and that my private helicopter is due to pick me up any minute. It really helps that my truth can be true without having the slightest resemblance to reality.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Then Again, Maybe Not
There is a fine line between being realistic and fatalistically cynical. It is so easy to convince myself that nothing I am or ever have been, nothing I do or ever have done is at all worthy of even an approving nod. That is a stupid exercise if one's goal is something other than depression and misery.
Still the mind is a persistent doomsayer. It is the old battle, still raging. The one I never quite win, but haven't quite lost.
I do feel that there is a possible final win in the cards, though.
How come so many naturalized citizens I've met, who actually made the effort to become citizens rather than spend their time protesting and waving the flags of their ex-countries, seem to know more about identifying and seizing opportunity than I, or most Americans, do.
I think we've been conditioned through stupid status ideals and ridiculous convolutions of what constitutes respectable behavior so that we refuse ourselves the freedom we ought to embrace. I don't necessarily blame Hollywood and other media strongholds, but I do believe they are hugely influential. Who influences them, I can't say. Someone who knows how to make idiocy seem intellectually advanced, that's for sure.
There is a vast difference between the arrogant person who flaunts his disdain for a country he is visiting (or annexing, or squatting upon to illegitimately demand rights), and one who has respect. The LaRaza mentality is not one of respect, and their total lack of knowledge, or intentional lies, when it comes to their own history is shameful, selfish, destructive and born of nothing but naked greed and envy.
You should see the looks you get in this part of the country if you are doing any work that resembles yard work or domestic labor if you are not of the prescribed ethnic group. If you are American doing the work Americans supposedly won't do--one of the most absurd arguments ever posited--you could get mugged by the illegals who believe they are entitled to have all such work reserved for themselves. They'd probably picket city hall if they knew what I get paid.
But, unlike them, I do not cause collateral damage in doing my work. You don't have to clean the building if I clean the patio. Since their number one tool of choice is a power blower, if they clean the driveway, your cars and all nearby building will need cleaning, or the neighbor's driveway. If they paint the wall, all the things which were too near to the wall now need a paint removal job. That is how it is in SoCal.
Thank God there is a huge difference between general attitude and philosophy from north country and east county, and from LA to San Diego. Closer you get to Hollywood, both geographically, and in the trade, the jerkier and more hypocritical the nature of people and culture becomes. I guess I am a little harsh. Why not? It is true, and the world of pretend gets old sometimes, causing one to impolitely suggest that the emperor has no clothes.
Still the mind is a persistent doomsayer. It is the old battle, still raging. The one I never quite win, but haven't quite lost.
I do feel that there is a possible final win in the cards, though.
How come so many naturalized citizens I've met, who actually made the effort to become citizens rather than spend their time protesting and waving the flags of their ex-countries, seem to know more about identifying and seizing opportunity than I, or most Americans, do.
I think we've been conditioned through stupid status ideals and ridiculous convolutions of what constitutes respectable behavior so that we refuse ourselves the freedom we ought to embrace. I don't necessarily blame Hollywood and other media strongholds, but I do believe they are hugely influential. Who influences them, I can't say. Someone who knows how to make idiocy seem intellectually advanced, that's for sure.
There is a vast difference between the arrogant person who flaunts his disdain for a country he is visiting (or annexing, or squatting upon to illegitimately demand rights), and one who has respect. The LaRaza mentality is not one of respect, and their total lack of knowledge, or intentional lies, when it comes to their own history is shameful, selfish, destructive and born of nothing but naked greed and envy.
You should see the looks you get in this part of the country if you are doing any work that resembles yard work or domestic labor if you are not of the prescribed ethnic group. If you are American doing the work Americans supposedly won't do--one of the most absurd arguments ever posited--you could get mugged by the illegals who believe they are entitled to have all such work reserved for themselves. They'd probably picket city hall if they knew what I get paid.
But, unlike them, I do not cause collateral damage in doing my work. You don't have to clean the building if I clean the patio. Since their number one tool of choice is a power blower, if they clean the driveway, your cars and all nearby building will need cleaning, or the neighbor's driveway. If they paint the wall, all the things which were too near to the wall now need a paint removal job. That is how it is in SoCal.
Thank God there is a huge difference between general attitude and philosophy from north country and east county, and from LA to San Diego. Closer you get to Hollywood, both geographically, and in the trade, the jerkier and more hypocritical the nature of people and culture becomes. I guess I am a little harsh. Why not? It is true, and the world of pretend gets old sometimes, causing one to impolitely suggest that the emperor has no clothes.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Maybe This Is A Life
My return from the week or two journey was uplifting. I looked forward to coming home--something I rarely felt in Memphis, or other places in the last decade or so.
I had texts and messages from friends on the coast and here on Ballistic Mountain expressing the sentiment that I was missed. They even sang to me in one voicemail. That was very cool.
Now we are back to practices up here, and practice with the other group in Poway. I managed to lure a pretty girl onto the property, and even made her a cappuccino with Cuban coffee. I've done some work, and have more work ahead, and I feel primed to finish a particular creative project which has been on hold for some time.
Hot as it has been, the gully washer which assaulted the mountain this afternoon was quite welcome. It truly was a gully washer, as the road up past me now has deep crevices that most cars can't navigate. There is enough flat path on the edge of the road for them to make their way on up, I guess. It was a spectacular rain storm. Intensely hard rain.
Back to reading Michener again. The last one I read is called the Novel, and like My Mexico, it gives plenty of insight into the writing process. The Novel delves a lot into all the facets of publishing, as of maybe 1990. Even though that world has radically changed, I think it provided some timeless insights. The fact that change was on the horizon did not escape him.
I've got books scattered everywhere, and all of them have been read, so it is time to haul them into the used book store and trade them for more. I'm so illiterate in ways that I will never be able to catch up to where I should be, so I select what suits my purpose, and holds my attention.
I revisited the film, Artois the Goat, and I still consider it a brilliant screenplay. Low budget, obviously, and made in such a way that that adds to the charm. Some of the humor is silly, but so well placed. Kind of like Monte Python meets A River Runs Through It. I very rarely watch a movie more than once, but I found watching this one again was not at all boring. Of course, plenty of time had elapsed since my first viewing.
I had texts and messages from friends on the coast and here on Ballistic Mountain expressing the sentiment that I was missed. They even sang to me in one voicemail. That was very cool.
Now we are back to practices up here, and practice with the other group in Poway. I managed to lure a pretty girl onto the property, and even made her a cappuccino with Cuban coffee. I've done some work, and have more work ahead, and I feel primed to finish a particular creative project which has been on hold for some time.
Hot as it has been, the gully washer which assaulted the mountain this afternoon was quite welcome. It truly was a gully washer, as the road up past me now has deep crevices that most cars can't navigate. There is enough flat path on the edge of the road for them to make their way on up, I guess. It was a spectacular rain storm. Intensely hard rain.
Back to reading Michener again. The last one I read is called the Novel, and like My Mexico, it gives plenty of insight into the writing process. The Novel delves a lot into all the facets of publishing, as of maybe 1990. Even though that world has radically changed, I think it provided some timeless insights. The fact that change was on the horizon did not escape him.
I've got books scattered everywhere, and all of them have been read, so it is time to haul them into the used book store and trade them for more. I'm so illiterate in ways that I will never be able to catch up to where I should be, so I select what suits my purpose, and holds my attention.
I revisited the film, Artois the Goat, and I still consider it a brilliant screenplay. Low budget, obviously, and made in such a way that that adds to the charm. Some of the humor is silly, but so well placed. Kind of like Monte Python meets A River Runs Through It. I very rarely watch a movie more than once, but I found watching this one again was not at all boring. Of course, plenty of time had elapsed since my first viewing.
Code Contemplation
There was a conversation that ended quite badly some weeks ago. I've mentally reviewed it and tried to look at it from both sides. My conclusions are inconclusive.
After experiencing events in which much alcohol was present, I thought maybe the other party was somewhat drunk; had reached that point of belligerence which happens sometimes when you drink, especially when talking to someone who makes or contemplates choices you wouldn't make.
That conversation was worrisome. If the other party is unaware how questions were put to me, then my answers probed for more detail, then when detail was offered I was assaulted with angry complaints about the topic, then there is a serious problem which needs to be addressed. I can't make it happen, and I suspect any direct suggestion would bring more rage.
Another case of a person getting super angry because I did not care to entertain unsolicited advice about matters which affect only me. The subjects came up in response to queries, not from me introducing the topics out of the blue.
It was either a conversation tainted with some mind altering substance, or possibly influenced by some health issue or outright mildly psychotic episode. All my experience with such interactions proved in the end to be the result of depression tempered by drinking.
Where the code comes in is this: I will not tell you how to spend your money unless you ask. If it makes you happy to buy an iphone for every day of the week, then I'm happy for you. That is not my business. I won't step in uninvited claiming I'm doing it because I care and am your friend. Some things are simply the result of how a person chooses to use time, resources, and whatever else life is offering. Ridiculing innocuous choices is just a way of raining on your parade because one refuses to accept that he is ignoring his own. Or her own.
My code differs from that of some people. Just like I am very hesitant to apply the concept of social cost in supporting measures which ban or require certain behaviors; like helmets, use of poppies or pot, sugar, and a host of other things. If I see a real and present danger to what a friend is about to do, I will speak up if I can. Sometimes it only sends them over the edge, so discretion is needed. Let it look like someone else's idea. There are times when giving up the credit for an idea is the surest way it gets implemented. I've used that trick many times. I was more interested in the result than getting my ego justly boosted. That's kind of an ego trip in itself.
The code is largely about boundaries. That is a form of respect. It has to do with knocking and waiting to be admitted before barging in. Not like they do in the medical profession--knock on the door as they open it. Why do they bother knocking if it is not a polite request for admittance?
Defining those boundaries and what constitutes respectful approach is kind of difficult at times. I know the rules when the situation arises. Sugar coating the breach does not change anything. You can't humiliate or ridicule a person's nature, then justify by saying you are only trying to help them, it is only because you are a friend, or that it is for his own good. It is a strange way of killing trust. It certainly does not ring of the respect the one offering the character assassination claims is the motive.
There are things one can not fix. I think it is when the personal code of one person is too different from that of another.
We see it all the time. There is a growing difference of opinion in this country over the definition of the word "right"--as in right to a free press, speech, etc. Some believe in a right to brain surgery, higher education, housing etc. Others believe in the right to earn or pursue such things;you have a right to buy a house if you can, as opposed to the right to have that house, regardless of purchasing power, willingness of the seller to sell it, builder to build it, etc. That bit with rights goes on and on. There are people who think their right to free speech includes the right to stop traffic and more. Sometimes I think semantics clouds the reality to which the discussion allegedly refers.
The point is, not everyone is on the same page, and that can be fine and dandy until one's understanding conflicts with another's in a way which makes it impossible for them to peacefully occupy the same space or conduct a pleasant conversation.
A perfect example would be the situations in which someone gets emotionally involved over whether someone else does or does not eat meat. If you don't do what I do in a situation which has absolutely no affect on me, then you are no good. People have been on this planet too long to be such idiots. No excuse for it.
After experiencing events in which much alcohol was present, I thought maybe the other party was somewhat drunk; had reached that point of belligerence which happens sometimes when you drink, especially when talking to someone who makes or contemplates choices you wouldn't make.
That conversation was worrisome. If the other party is unaware how questions were put to me, then my answers probed for more detail, then when detail was offered I was assaulted with angry complaints about the topic, then there is a serious problem which needs to be addressed. I can't make it happen, and I suspect any direct suggestion would bring more rage.
Another case of a person getting super angry because I did not care to entertain unsolicited advice about matters which affect only me. The subjects came up in response to queries, not from me introducing the topics out of the blue.
It was either a conversation tainted with some mind altering substance, or possibly influenced by some health issue or outright mildly psychotic episode. All my experience with such interactions proved in the end to be the result of depression tempered by drinking.
Where the code comes in is this: I will not tell you how to spend your money unless you ask. If it makes you happy to buy an iphone for every day of the week, then I'm happy for you. That is not my business. I won't step in uninvited claiming I'm doing it because I care and am your friend. Some things are simply the result of how a person chooses to use time, resources, and whatever else life is offering. Ridiculing innocuous choices is just a way of raining on your parade because one refuses to accept that he is ignoring his own. Or her own.
My code differs from that of some people. Just like I am very hesitant to apply the concept of social cost in supporting measures which ban or require certain behaviors; like helmets, use of poppies or pot, sugar, and a host of other things. If I see a real and present danger to what a friend is about to do, I will speak up if I can. Sometimes it only sends them over the edge, so discretion is needed. Let it look like someone else's idea. There are times when giving up the credit for an idea is the surest way it gets implemented. I've used that trick many times. I was more interested in the result than getting my ego justly boosted. That's kind of an ego trip in itself.
The code is largely about boundaries. That is a form of respect. It has to do with knocking and waiting to be admitted before barging in. Not like they do in the medical profession--knock on the door as they open it. Why do they bother knocking if it is not a polite request for admittance?
Defining those boundaries and what constitutes respectful approach is kind of difficult at times. I know the rules when the situation arises. Sugar coating the breach does not change anything. You can't humiliate or ridicule a person's nature, then justify by saying you are only trying to help them, it is only because you are a friend, or that it is for his own good. It is a strange way of killing trust. It certainly does not ring of the respect the one offering the character assassination claims is the motive.
There are things one can not fix. I think it is when the personal code of one person is too different from that of another.
We see it all the time. There is a growing difference of opinion in this country over the definition of the word "right"--as in right to a free press, speech, etc. Some believe in a right to brain surgery, higher education, housing etc. Others believe in the right to earn or pursue such things;you have a right to buy a house if you can, as opposed to the right to have that house, regardless of purchasing power, willingness of the seller to sell it, builder to build it, etc. That bit with rights goes on and on. There are people who think their right to free speech includes the right to stop traffic and more. Sometimes I think semantics clouds the reality to which the discussion allegedly refers.
The point is, not everyone is on the same page, and that can be fine and dandy until one's understanding conflicts with another's in a way which makes it impossible for them to peacefully occupy the same space or conduct a pleasant conversation.
A perfect example would be the situations in which someone gets emotionally involved over whether someone else does or does not eat meat. If you don't do what I do in a situation which has absolutely no affect on me, then you are no good. People have been on this planet too long to be such idiots. No excuse for it.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Round and Round
The Subaru parts guy, on the phone, says they have no center cap for the steel wheels, but they do for "the aluminum ones". I got to thinking, I bet that will fit. He mentioned the diameter, so depending upon how it hangs on... I'll go down there and take a look.
Today I decided to paint the things. They had semi-rusty stripes due to uneven exposure to the world caused by the wheel covers. Ignore any over-spray on the tires. That will be gone quickly. I did not shine up the tires in the process. Another time, maybe.
You can still see part of my dirt road on the rubber. It was another hot day, but we had a welcome downpour at midday. I'd run up and down the hill on errands, enjoying the softening effect the mud had on the crazy washboard, teeth-jarring stretch during my last trip home.
So, of all the cabins in all the hills in all the county, she shows up at mine. The cowgirl up the hill. Maybe past discrepancies have dissolved.
pic stolen borrowed from wikipedia
I guess it didn't hurt that I flagged her down while I was playing around with Rustoleum. I had just sprayed all the rims with the flat black primer. She encouraged me to finish it off with the gloss black. I had both. She may have been right. I did end up doing the final coat with the shiny stuff.
I just wanted a good looking dame on the property so as I saw her wave in passing I did the "come on down here" wave, and she backed up and drove in. There is a God.
A man has to experience such things from time to time or he becomes convinced his life is possibly devoid of...spirit.
It is good to keep friendships. Perhaps I'll just have to institute a no more than one text per day rule, should this get interesting. She tends to get carried away in that regard. I must say, the dame was looking swell. I guess my resolve, of which I probably haven't written, is coming to fruition rapidly.
When it rains it pours, though, and that can get complicated. That's OK. Said precipitation is several states away and who knows. I figure that Ms Right and Perfect will slip away if I don't get some practice in which will improve my manners and prepare me well. It's happened before. I want to be ready when this mythical being crosses my path.
Maybe I'll hit the open mic they have in the Starbuck's patio area tomorrow. The lady associated with that has given me good word-on-the-street, and facebook reviews. Nice dame. And my pal Cliff may be there, as well as another good player or two. I'll show off my newly painted, plain jane wheels.
I must say, I now feel smart owning a car the same color as Ballistic mountain dirt.
Maybe with the crazy wheels it at least looks like a butch lesbian car. (G1, in Memphis, informed me when I bought the first tourmobile that the Forester is the official vehicle of lesbians in America, so don't blame me) Not that anything is wrong with being a lesbian, butch lesbian, bull dyke, gay, transgender, bi and/or tri sexual. Some of my best friends are Black. Oops, wrong apologist line.
Some of my best friends are LBGTBDBLTS. And many speak languages other than English. That's better. Good thing I have high cheek bones and ample pigmentation, and I'm not always hitting on all cylinders. That excuses me, and increases my latitude in mentioning cultural divisions.
We call it maize, you call it corn.
Today I decided to paint the things. They had semi-rusty stripes due to uneven exposure to the world caused by the wheel covers. Ignore any over-spray on the tires. That will be gone quickly. I did not shine up the tires in the process. Another time, maybe.
You can still see part of my dirt road on the rubber. It was another hot day, but we had a welcome downpour at midday. I'd run up and down the hill on errands, enjoying the softening effect the mud had on the crazy washboard, teeth-jarring stretch during my last trip home.
So, of all the cabins in all the hills in all the county, she shows up at mine. The cowgirl up the hill. Maybe past discrepancies have dissolved.
pic I guess it didn't hurt that I flagged her down while I was playing around with Rustoleum. I had just sprayed all the rims with the flat black primer. She encouraged me to finish it off with the gloss black. I had both. She may have been right. I did end up doing the final coat with the shiny stuff.
I just wanted a good looking dame on the property so as I saw her wave in passing I did the "come on down here" wave, and she backed up and drove in. There is a God.
A man has to experience such things from time to time or he becomes convinced his life is possibly devoid of...spirit.
It is good to keep friendships. Perhaps I'll just have to institute a no more than one text per day rule, should this get interesting. She tends to get carried away in that regard. I must say, the dame was looking swell. I guess my resolve, of which I probably haven't written, is coming to fruition rapidly.
When it rains it pours, though, and that can get complicated. That's OK. Said precipitation is several states away and who knows. I figure that Ms Right and Perfect will slip away if I don't get some practice in which will improve my manners and prepare me well. It's happened before. I want to be ready when this mythical being crosses my path.
Maybe I'll hit the open mic they have in the Starbuck's patio area tomorrow. The lady associated with that has given me good word-on-the-street, and facebook reviews. Nice dame. And my pal Cliff may be there, as well as another good player or two. I'll show off my newly painted, plain jane wheels.
I must say, I now feel smart owning a car the same color as Ballistic mountain dirt. Maybe with the crazy wheels it at least looks like a butch lesbian car. (G1, in Memphis, informed me when I bought the first tourmobile that the Forester is the official vehicle of lesbians in America, so don't blame me) Not that anything is wrong with being a lesbian, butch lesbian, bull dyke, gay, transgender, bi and/or tri sexual. Some of my best friends are Black. Oops, wrong apologist line.
Some of my best friends are LBGTBDBLTS. And many speak languages other than English. That's better. Good thing I have high cheek bones and ample pigmentation, and I'm not always hitting on all cylinders. That excuses me, and increases my latitude in mentioning cultural divisions.
We call it maize, you call it corn.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Elites and Bionists
I've finally given in and decided that maybe They do know what's best for me. Since they are deemed to be a little smarter than the rest of us and are led by "the smartest guy in the room--IQ off the charts!"***, I've decided to do what I can to emulate them.
So, my first move is to do as they have done and exempt myself from the health care law. Problem solved.
I'm not sure what my friends and relatives are doing, particularly those who have recently become bionic with new high tech knees and hips. I have several bionic friends and relatives now. I'm certainly glad they were able to obtain the relief that procedure is said to bring.
If I find myself in such need, I'll hold a benefit or start a solar company, get a grant, then run with the money and go bankrupt. It appears to be a good way to realize a quick windfall. If I plaster the right bumper stickers on the car and all that, I don't expect much legal hassles.
Recently, I've read some things that crystalize the belief by some that it really is their duty to control the direction of the arts, and intellectual thought. They truly believe themselves to be the elite class, and consider it their duty to combat the natural inclinations of lowly people who do work or build businesses. Those ignorant fools are devoid of the understanding of art and how things should run. Good thing the volunteer caretakers are in place.
A psychology professor at Florida State once told us that those of us in the academic world were the elite. It made me uncomfortable when he said that. He went on about it for awhile and the further context did not improve my impression of the assertion. Many of the professors there made me uncomfortable, except those whose field was math or science or engineering. (too bad I got schnockered and skipped so many classes) Or the guy who did metals and jewelry making. Philosophy was a bust, as was theater, english, history, and pretty much all else. Those were difficult times and confusing days. I survived. sort of
Sumer session was the best time to attend because many of the more egregious a-holes were down in Cuba volunteering in the sugar cane fields. I kid you not. Talk about useful idiots.
Oh well. That war is over. And I'm exempt from confusing insurance regulation. I'll just wear a helmet and tell them I'm doing it for the good of society and maybe to save the planet. For the kids or for the planet is a good method of avoiding unwanted discussion. Kind of like claiming it is God's will or His idea.
***not sure what that means. I don't know much about IQ, but I did know one person whose score on one part of the IQ test was "off the charts" according to a psychologist. I asked my shrink friend what that meant and she said that test's chart did not go as high as the person scored. (I was in a situation in which it was OK to discuss the score--all parties permitted it) The individual did better than what would have given him or her the top mark on the chart. The person taking the test didn't do anything grand or earth shaking, to my knowledge, so maybe it doesn't mean much unless you are in politics.
Conversations with psychologists can sometimes be fun and informative. Sometimes, though, shrinks are too arrogant and nuts to be enjoyable.
So, my first move is to do as they have done and exempt myself from the health care law. Problem solved.
I'm not sure what my friends and relatives are doing, particularly those who have recently become bionic with new high tech knees and hips. I have several bionic friends and relatives now. I'm certainly glad they were able to obtain the relief that procedure is said to bring.
If I find myself in such need, I'll hold a benefit or start a solar company, get a grant, then run with the money and go bankrupt. It appears to be a good way to realize a quick windfall. If I plaster the right bumper stickers on the car and all that, I don't expect much legal hassles.
Recently, I've read some things that crystalize the belief by some that it really is their duty to control the direction of the arts, and intellectual thought. They truly believe themselves to be the elite class, and consider it their duty to combat the natural inclinations of lowly people who do work or build businesses. Those ignorant fools are devoid of the understanding of art and how things should run. Good thing the volunteer caretakers are in place.
A psychology professor at Florida State once told us that those of us in the academic world were the elite. It made me uncomfortable when he said that. He went on about it for awhile and the further context did not improve my impression of the assertion. Many of the professors there made me uncomfortable, except those whose field was math or science or engineering. (too bad I got schnockered and skipped so many classes) Or the guy who did metals and jewelry making. Philosophy was a bust, as was theater, english, history, and pretty much all else. Those were difficult times and confusing days. I survived. sort of
Sumer session was the best time to attend because many of the more egregious a-holes were down in Cuba volunteering in the sugar cane fields. I kid you not. Talk about useful idiots.
Oh well. That war is over. And I'm exempt from confusing insurance regulation. I'll just wear a helmet and tell them I'm doing it for the good of society and maybe to save the planet. For the kids or for the planet is a good method of avoiding unwanted discussion. Kind of like claiming it is God's will or His idea.
***not sure what that means. I don't know much about IQ, but I did know one person whose score on one part of the IQ test was "off the charts" according to a psychologist. I asked my shrink friend what that meant and she said that test's chart did not go as high as the person scored. (I was in a situation in which it was OK to discuss the score--all parties permitted it) The individual did better than what would have given him or her the top mark on the chart. The person taking the test didn't do anything grand or earth shaking, to my knowledge, so maybe it doesn't mean much unless you are in politics.
Conversations with psychologists can sometimes be fun and informative. Sometimes, though, shrinks are too arrogant and nuts to be enjoyable.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Searching for center caps
Geez, I wonder if that title will bring more spammer comments. All the auto maintenance entries bring something like, "Wow! Great post and you written it very good. Maybe you could visit my site xyzstupidstuff.com"
I'm always flattered because I know they read and loved whatever I wrote. But that won't help me in my current quest.
I'm ashamed to admit that when I took delivery of this car about three years ago, I did not pay closer attention. I'm almost positive that when I first looked at it that it had factory alloy wheels. I drove off with plain steel wheels with wheel covers which closely resemble the alloys at first glance. For whatever reasons I did not push the issue in a timely manner.
It is what it is. Kicking the covers back tight when they appear to be less than snug on the wheel had become tiresome over the last many months.
Then, prior to the trip, one cover fell off without me knowing exactly when. I had a spare as a result of the deer strike repair--no need to explain why--so I grudgingly snapped it on.
One of the tires developed a slow leak about the time I reached Oregon, so before heading out to the campground event, I stopped at Eugene's version of Discount Tires which is called America's Tires. Same company.
They fixed it and did everything they could to be first rate; balanced the wheels because they suspected they might be slightly out, and generally behaved competently. It didn't cost anything because I bought the tires from that company.
Then I stopped for fuel about ten miles down the road and noticed a wheel cover missing. I went back to the tire place but they looked everywhere and are sure they did not leave it off. The guy who did the work wasn't defensive, but he was concerned and helpful. They had some wheel covers that would fit so they put that set on so all would match. They were a bit less sedate than what was on but I had just about had it with frigging hubcaps.
I kept a couple of the old ones, throwing them in the car, trashed the third since I still have spares at home. While at the wedding celebration event I drove up the store one day. When I got back one of those had fallen off a different wheel. That was it!
I removed the others and tossed them in the dumpster. Hubcaps flying off of wheels could kill someone or damage a car. It is a public hazard, like driving drunk. Eliminating the known risk was the right thing to do.
Now I need just simple, plain center caps to cover that axle nut in the very center, then I'll spray the wheels flat or semi-gloss black so they look ok, and that will be that. They aren't really ugly like some wheels.
My problem is finding the simple, functional center caps. I tried to look on line and all I found was stupid stuff that costs over a hundred dollars for one. There should be simple ones that don't even cost ten dollars each. But where are they?
I'm always flattered because I know they read and loved whatever I wrote. But that won't help me in my current quest.
I'm ashamed to admit that when I took delivery of this car about three years ago, I did not pay closer attention. I'm almost positive that when I first looked at it that it had factory alloy wheels. I drove off with plain steel wheels with wheel covers which closely resemble the alloys at first glance. For whatever reasons I did not push the issue in a timely manner.
It is what it is. Kicking the covers back tight when they appear to be less than snug on the wheel had become tiresome over the last many months.
Then, prior to the trip, one cover fell off without me knowing exactly when. I had a spare as a result of the deer strike repair--no need to explain why--so I grudgingly snapped it on.
One of the tires developed a slow leak about the time I reached Oregon, so before heading out to the campground event, I stopped at Eugene's version of Discount Tires which is called America's Tires. Same company.
They fixed it and did everything they could to be first rate; balanced the wheels because they suspected they might be slightly out, and generally behaved competently. It didn't cost anything because I bought the tires from that company.
Then I stopped for fuel about ten miles down the road and noticed a wheel cover missing. I went back to the tire place but they looked everywhere and are sure they did not leave it off. The guy who did the work wasn't defensive, but he was concerned and helpful. They had some wheel covers that would fit so they put that set on so all would match. They were a bit less sedate than what was on but I had just about had it with frigging hubcaps. I kept a couple of the old ones, throwing them in the car, trashed the third since I still have spares at home. While at the wedding celebration event I drove up the store one day. When I got back one of those had fallen off a different wheel. That was it!
I removed the others and tossed them in the dumpster. Hubcaps flying off of wheels could kill someone or damage a car. It is a public hazard, like driving drunk. Eliminating the known risk was the right thing to do.
Now I need just simple, plain center caps to cover that axle nut in the very center, then I'll spray the wheels flat or semi-gloss black so they look ok, and that will be that. They aren't really ugly like some wheels.
My problem is finding the simple, functional center caps. I tried to look on line and all I found was stupid stuff that costs over a hundred dollars for one. There should be simple ones that don't even cost ten dollars each. But where are they?
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Everyone Must Do This
My lack of home A/C has now become a matter which is impossible to ignore. I know that anyone reading this must be somewhat of a humanitarian at heart, so I must appeal to your sympathy and your probable Bolshevik sense of fair play.
What I'd like everyone to do is to box up the cold air from your refrigerators and send it to East County, San Diego. Also run your air conditioning at max cold, High speed, and open your doors and windows, especially if you live west of the Mississippi. I think the cooling will make its way to Ballistic Mountain, and I will, once again, be able to wear clothes without burning up with fever and drenching them with copious amounts of vile sweat.
Thank you. It is only fair. Spread your wealth of cool air.
What I'd like everyone to do is to box up the cold air from your refrigerators and send it to East County, San Diego. Also run your air conditioning at max cold, High speed, and open your doors and windows, especially if you live west of the Mississippi. I think the cooling will make its way to Ballistic Mountain, and I will, once again, be able to wear clothes without burning up with fever and drenching them with copious amounts of vile sweat.
Thank you. It is only fair. Spread your wealth of cool air.
As Planned, played Crest Comm. Ctr. on way home
The target time of arrival into Crest, a community out here in East County, and on my home from this trip, was 7PM. I arrived at 7 PM. even though I got lost in this town which is less populated than the high school from which I graduated.
We were one of four acts playing, and were the last ones to play. First each group played a short set, the they had a break, then each one played about 15 minutes. I haven't practiced with the group in awhile, and I haven't played much in a few weeks. It worked out OK.
The second set almost warmed me up. They chose things that give me a lot of leeway and I was in need of that. It is like a nutrient that my mind and body crave; being able to let go and float in the air for a minute or two. That is partly how it feels to play that way. In any case I had a blast that last fifteen minutes, and I think it came through.
What a great way to end a trip.
Being a neighborhood band, my landlords know the others. There was some kind of neighborhood meeting today with the fire people or the power company or someone, so they knew about this event. They showed up to see us. I hope they liked it and don't raise the rent or kick me out for being a disappointment.
It has been ultra hot here, just like it has in regions north.
***I even shaved before hitting town. Maybe I care more than I thought
I look forward to playing the various practices and open mics that have become part of my regular routine.
There is work on the near horizon, and a new found passion for some other projects. I'm a lucky enough guy, I'd say. The warm reception from the CopperCreek bandmates was almost a tear jerker. It is nice to know when people miss having me around. I'm such a sap.
We were one of four acts playing, and were the last ones to play. First each group played a short set, the they had a break, then each one played about 15 minutes. I haven't practiced with the group in awhile, and I haven't played much in a few weeks. It worked out OK.
The second set almost warmed me up. They chose things that give me a lot of leeway and I was in need of that. It is like a nutrient that my mind and body crave; being able to let go and float in the air for a minute or two. That is partly how it feels to play that way. In any case I had a blast that last fifteen minutes, and I think it came through.
What a great way to end a trip.
Being a neighborhood band, my landlords know the others. There was some kind of neighborhood meeting today with the fire people or the power company or someone, so they knew about this event. They showed up to see us. I hope they liked it and don't raise the rent or kick me out for being a disappointment.
It has been ultra hot here, just like it has in regions north.
***I even shaved before hitting town. Maybe I care more than I thought
I look forward to playing the various practices and open mics that have become part of my regular routine.
There is work on the near horizon, and a new found passion for some other projects. I'm a lucky enough guy, I'd say. The warm reception from the CopperCreek bandmates was almost a tear jerker. It is nice to know when people miss having me around. I'm such a sap.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
