An Unsolitary Man

It is amazing how much of an isolationist I am, yet that is not my first choice, were I capable of making choices differently than I have.

I enjoy playing songs with people.  I like it when there is a singer, and worthy lyrics.  That is why I like the group I've been working with.  Mostly we are backing the singer/song writer, Sande.  And her stuff is good enough that I am willing to put my stuff on the back burner, without resentment or hesitation.

The best thing is that performing can suspend ailments for a time.  Maybe not a long time, but a time. Then again, maybe for a long time.  Do not know until the time comes.

I think I know how it is all working out.  Worst comes to worst I'll hire deaf mutes to overhaul my house and life.  They have to be illiterate as well, but intuitively good workers.  That way they won't be able to talk and sully my good name.

I'm hoping someone turns up with a video from this weekend at Crest Community Center.  Maybe because the house was packed the acoustics were better.  It was beautiful, powerful, balanced sound.  And we probably played part of the time at a new level. I am sure a few minutes were our best of all time.  An evolving project.  We are getting tighter, and more settled in ways.

If I discover a video, I hope it is good because it was fun.  If it is good I will put it up.  The last one can only be seen on FB by friends of the posting person.   Or so I understand.

Star and Micey - Love Me?/#1

I happened upon Star and Micey videos last night, somehow.  About a year before I left Memphis I crossed paths with them.  They were very young and had a very uplifting attitude and presence.  Only three of them then.

The guy with glasses that is shown for a second or two with a mandolin is the creative force.  The name came from his talks with a homeless guy who said his name was Star and his long lost wife's name was Micey.  Hence the name.  He'd just settled on it back when I saw them.

They had great family support but had hardly played anywhere.  It was a kind of invitation only open mic environment.  The excitement and joy of the whole thing, with such great family backing was infectious.   In a way, very southern.  I'd forgotten that little episode in my secret life.  It was a bright point during a dark period.

Not sure how I got there.  None of the old band knew of my forays into more acoustic, non blues circumstances.  Can't swear to it, but I believe I sat in with them on a tune or two.  They made an impression for me to remember 8 years or so later.

Ardent, one of the studios where I recorded, signed them.  Ardent is the most impressive studio in Memphis.   That is definitely the home of the cool kids.

So, I am thrilled that they got signed so soon after they began, and that they still have a good attitude and they rock.

So, maybe later

I like the professionals who suggest options, with one of them some variation of the "Let's wait a couple of months and worry about it then,  Maybe it will be different."   I chose that option over the definitive but invasive visit to the core of my being--carnally speaking.

My vital signs are terrific, so I am pretty sure all else is just a misunderstanding of some kind.   However, I do plan to get a bigger car to compensate for ill formed, smaller than normal reds.   Remember Red China?   Of course.

But who remembers Red Rhode Island?  No one.  See my point?

Probably not, but trust me, there is one, either contained within the lines, or between them.

I may have yelled at the lady at the information desk who wears a mask.  At first I thought it was to avoid disease.  Now I realize it is to hide her identity because she's a terrorist.  A 95 year old female terrorist.

The bureaucratic maze that is this complex leaves people other than myself, even employees, at a loss when trying to discern the route between here and there, or even where there is.   So, there is a huge, semi circular desk, in front of a woman sitting on a raised chair, sort of like a judge.   She is wearing a mask.

"May I help you?"
"Where is imaging, x ray?"
Do you have an appointment?
I don't know, I just came from upstairs, Dr. Dracula ordered the tests, and they said to go but I am not sure of the directions given me. Just need to go there.
Where is your paper work?
I give her something, but it is not her job.  She wants to start calling to see if I really have authority to go to this xray place.

Do people crash x rays ordered for others?  Do they sneak in and make mischief?

I reached over and grabbed my papers and was trying to leave.  I got there eventually.  The masked matron was nuts.  I'm pretty sure she must have escaped from the psych ward, and she commandeered the information desk while real employees were at lunch.  No one would pay this terrorist shrew.

I felt the disapproving look of strangers while I angrily asked her to please just not involve herself in my business and forget I asked her anything.  I may have said, without thinking, "Hey the last thing I need is a fucking moron calling different departments causing more bureaucratic idiocy than we already have.  No more idiotic bureaucrats need to be involved."  Words to that effect, including an expletive or two.

It didn't dawn on me until later that she was an escaped lunatic.  I would have played along better.

Oh well.

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La Musica de la Gente

The last time we played Good Guys tavern was just this past Saturday.   Month or so prior was out last outing at this bar, and it was what we considered our worst show yet.   This last one was good in many ways.

So, our March 10 House of Blues gig got moved to the 9th, and we had to cancel for reason that the bass player had a lame previous commitment.  It all comes down to an older woman he is stalking to no avail.

However, we now have 2 House of Blues bookings, June 30 and Aug 11.  Crest community center this Saturday.  I have played there with Copper Creek and it is always a nice evening.  I like that place.  Way up on a ridge.

We have a regular 3rd Sunday of the month show at Navajo Live.  And sometime soon, Hard Rock Cafe downtown.  Another place I like.

This new style of play which involves many very big chords, mostly split chords, and a lot of first position, or straight harp playing, taxes my lung capacity to the limit. It is not at all easy.   But it is not all typical either.

I encountered one other harp player doing a lot of stuff similar to what I do.  Blew me away.  He also fronts some songs, which I do not.   Not with this group and no covers, in any case.  After crossing paths with that guy, I think I may have upped my game a bit.  I have issues with myself if I think I've been smoked by a better player.  Not sure if he is better, but he does some things very much like I do. That is very rare.  The tone is great, too.  So, I focus more and try to utter perfect sounds and be the catalyst which defines the blend of guitar fiddle and harp.

Some of the songs have some sweet violin parts.  This is purposeful arrangement on the violin, not limited dimension fiddle.   People are liking the sound.  No one else has this sound.  I know of two other harp players who could play the background and compliment the violin.   Quite the surprise to find these two.  Keeps me on my toes.

Like me, these guys aren't hanging in the blues circles.  Kind of a rarity among San Diego harmonica players.  Most all hit the same blues things and play pretty similar licks.  Many really good players in this town.  Just not always the kind of stuff I care to hear.

I'm finding it a little more difficult to hang but it is OK for now.  I wonder how it will be in June.  Better, I hope.

Is It a Chronicle Candidate?

This past year has been the oddest year of way too many odd or stupid years.  I am not sure if this is a stupid one or not.  We measure February to February.

This is a merry go round that I can't seem to exit, and it is speeding up.  I imagine that sooner or later it will go so fast that I fly off.  It's the whole centripetal versus centrifugal force routine.  Actually, centrifugal force is a made up force.  It is really momentum at play which out weighs whatever the force is trying to hold me in the circle.

That is how it works.  Why does that leave one a sentimental puddle of mush and in no condition to face another human being at this instant?  No answer.

I'm thinking that by the time I see people who haven't seen me in awhile, they will think I got way older.  Which I did.  I use the word "got" in unsophisticated ways, just because I can.

I think I am following a saga that some may consider a little grim.  Only a couple of people are fully in the loop.  I curse myself for that, but they know medical things and want to be in the middle.  I believe they are scared, to some degree.

I'm going through the process which may give definition and finality to the trouble shooting phase, but if it is as it appears, I will likely go on a rampage of joyous nonsense until money or other things run out.   Maybe I should anyway.  I should not do it alone though.

RR shot me down about a year ago.  I do not know why, but sometimes people get all wrapped up in religion or other super natural endeavors, and they queer the deal.  How maddening.  I've been exposed to all the blind fanaticism I can take for one lifetime.

Anyway, I think it could have worked out, but not really.  Looking for gurus and magic?  Better pass me by.  That kind of thing is not real.  Fake spirituality born of peer pressure and wishful thinking, if any thinking at all is at play.

That is what recovery from alcohol or drugs can do--lead you to another kind of emotional addiction which offers continual validation and reinforcement, but can also screw up a young man's fancies.
Or an old man's.   Still, most things are better than active alcoholism or drug addiction.  I just have to back off from certain things.  It is personal to me.

We'll see wednesday if the last bit of blood study defined anything.  Then they drill into your bone to sample bone marrow.  With luck it won't happen, though it appears inevitable.   On Monday they want me to swallow a pill that is a tiny camera.  It sends pictures to a receiving unit you carry around all day.

I do not think this will yield any info at all, and I told them.  I think everything is higher up and that's that.  Allegedly this anemia circumstance is an energy sapper.  I thought I was just depressed.   It may be that I was oxygen deprived on a cellular level.   They think my ill formed blood is disappearing somewhere.  So they go looking for it everywhere.  Right here between my chin and my navel, I guarantee it.  Who listens to me?  It's my house and I know what is what.

This is why I walk away rather than invite anyone into my world these days.  I have nothing to offer and I'm falling apart.  So, the more I like someone, the less likely I am to leave the opening.  It would be too selfish and self absorbed, even for me, if you can imagine that.

We did OK on our Saturday night gig.  I wonder if anyone can tell how hard it is to do these days.  Probably not.  I may have a little missing in the realm of ultra fast garbage, but I manage with new ways of doing things; lots of gentle chording encouraging the violin to show off.

I feel like I should somewhere write down everything going on; good days, bad, symptoms, procedures, the entire case as it flows.  Where to do that?  I don't seem to be able to.  I can have a horrendous night, but if I feel ok later, I forget and feel odd mentioning it to paid professionals.  In my mind, somewhere, is the idea that I probably am not tough enough, or that I made it all up, and I'm actually 100% fine.

I have to do without real food all day Sunday.  I will do all I can to wake up very very late that day.  My stomach will be killing me.  It is for the pill cam.  It wanders down the small intestines taking snapshots like a Japanese tourist.
(I hope that is politically incorrect enough for morons to label me racist.  We've allowed our culture to be molded and shaped, more and more, by charlatans, fools, and complete imbeciles.)

People talked me into the pill cam. Maybe they are right, but I will bet the cam that nothing is amiss there.  You win, I give you the cam when I'm done.  You can wash it off and sell it on ebay. Who will know?  In any case, I am not sure this is necessary.  And I am probably right.  I don't think this will leave me in lasting pain like their recent foray down my throat with a camera on a stick.

I think it is good to chronicle some of this.  Otherwise I forget the sequence of things, and entire events.  It is all very surreal.  I want to know what's up, and then I want to fix it and be done.  Even if they can't fix it, I can do OK, armed with all the facts they have.  I'm a better trouble shooter than these beleaguered medical people.  They have to be like government agents and paper pushers to stay out of jail.  It sucks and soon we'll all die as a result.

Sande, the singer I back up, has a song that seems to fit me for many reasons this year.  The first lines are; When the rug gets pulled out from under your feet, and your world's spinning out of control... ...it's just a moment in time, but it's the rest of your life. all must be told...
Great tune.  But I don't know how long I can keep playing with this group if the sternum/stomach/skin issues get any worse or just stay the same and wear me down.

Nothing stays the same.  That much is fairly certain.  So, we shall see.

I'm pretty sure I've become used to a way of life which is not quite right or normal.  This is probably not at all a normal way to feel.  Tonight is working out to be another difficult one. But, I have what I need and more.  Compensate and improvise.  That is what I have to do.

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Seriously, Can Humanity Survive the Nonsense?

Research is not my favorite thing, but I will do what I must to become informed when I see the need. I've done it with things like the healthcare bill, back when everyone was talking "what it will do", but avoiding actually disclosing the text.  It is very convoluted and continually refers to other bills and leaves much up to bureaucratic discretion.  

In reality, no one outside of a few crafting the text of the bill could have had a clue what was in it.  Other than the extraneous things they added in according to donors desires and all that.  But that was then, and I made it known I felt it was more a bizarre vote ploy and power grab.  But like always, people like to think they are getting what they want and are more than happy to dance to the ends-justifies-the-means tune.

Rarely are the ends a long term bargain.


I have done more medical investigation than usual, lately.   It can work for or against you.  I've heard people act like someone who searches his own diseases is in for trouble.  If you aren't more in tune with what could be the problem with you, given some information on symptoms and what they indicate, then you deserve to be treated like a subservient subject by medical people and nurses who think in big valley-speak cartoon bubbles.

This is a quote from a page I visited,  "In honor of Rare Disease Day, help spread the word with a photo.‎"

Really?  Rare disease day?  Come on.  This whole disjointed view of medicine, charity, science, life, has gone too far.  Let's celebrate rare disease day!!  Are you nuts?

There are plenty of diseases I don't have which are about as rare as what I may have. But what if none of the above is the case?  Then it would be even rarer.  I've lived in towns in which, according to these stats, I'd be the only one with whatever it is.  

For a few days I thought I was OK.  Or could easily become OK.  Then, after last night's gig, at home, weird, supernatural, demon possession stuff began.  Big red areas, like instant birthmarks, and dots like blood vessels or maybe got stabbed by a fork, looking dots.  Blackish, reddish.

Today, no patches and the dots all but completely gone.   Then I wonder.  What if it is a crazy episode and you only think you see it?  That prompted me to take pictures of my arm the last time it happened.  Hard to get a very good pic but it shows up some.  What if I just think it does?

Not hard to wonder if you are nuts when you already suspect as much.

I do not think the survival of the species, or even the pursuit of happiness are best served by having Rare Disease Day, or a jump in icewater to cure disease, or any of a million odd celebrations of sickness that are held all over the place, mostly by the unafflicted.  It is an industry built upon partial truths and much fear--the patients' and their families' fear.

There is a lot of money to be made and much trouble from lawsuits can happen. So, you play ball, cover yourself by filling files with enough tests to thwart a tort attorney, and if you are very lucky, someone's issue may actually be pinpointed and properly treated during the process.

That is the exception, not the rule.  The rule is that there are drugs which can make you feel OK while your true problem is never really well diagnosed.  Trouble shooting is normally weak.  But drugs can mask that.  We handle symptom A with drug X, and symptom B with drug Y, and then there are drugs to deal with the side effects of X and Y. 

Those things happen.  Drugs can be a bribe to pretend everyone is doing a great job and hallelujah, you're healed, sort of.  Some are great.  

Maybe a Rare Pharmaceutical Drug Day would be cool.  I don't even know how to express how strange that seems to me.  Rare Disease Day.  You think maybe some of us are from other planets, far away, and we just don't remember how we landed here, but we know it was a mistake?

Let's have a national, boy oh boy does my upper belly hurt day.  Or rare migraine headache day.  Everyone march, slamming pots and pans together to bring on the celebrated condition. 

I'll bet all my trouble is because I am not a carnivore.  It is not a thing I can easily fix.  I do not find it a natural desire on my part, eating a creature that motors around one way or another.  It would be easier if I did find it natural.  It must be.  

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By the Way, I Doubt N. Korea Was the Sony Hacker

I had to see for myself what the video hooplah was this time.  Last time an embassy was attacked and they blamed a video which was like a bad SNL skit.   This time Sony gets hacked, private emails get exposed,  and Hollywood people get caught being the snakes and nincompoops they apparently are.  And then they get all indignant, as if they don't know their industry is petty and cutthroat.

Where else do people that dim think they are the intellectual elite?  It is almost embarrassing.

The film, The Interview, actually had possibilities and could have been a good film.  Or at least better.  The humor falls off into the shallowest, dumbest of all possibilities.  Dumber than I would have guessed, for sure.

They start off fine, with Eminem giving an interview where the guy cites lyrics and searches for meaning.  Em deadpans that it is because he is gay.  That is the highlight of the movie.

In any case, it is highly unlikely that N. Korea even took notice.  It is just too silly and stupid, and it just doesn't seem the sort of thing to catch anyone's attention.

I do not know who, if anyone, hacked Sony.  I do know that without this free advertising, and curiosity seekers like me, the project would probably have been 86'd, and would never have seen the light of day.

They had to know that somewhere along the way, early on, the writers and directors just gave up trying to hold to even a shred of quality.  They just gave up and phoned it in.  One or more in the bunch must be the type of people who can't come up with real humor so they stick to boner and fart gags.

Haha.  This is so funny and clever. Hahaha. Boner.

No. Not the stuff of international espionage.  I would wager large sums that the North Korea scenario is as big a lie as the one about the muslim video.  Maybe bigger.  Never happened.  Why the lie?

No telling.  You'd be surprised how connected to government and power some in Hollywood are.

In summary, The Interview sucks.

More Reviews

The Good Lie.  An extraordinary story.  This is the sort of thing that helps give a little perspective to life.  The Sudan scene in late 80s on up seems a bit strained.  Not Paradise or Utopia.

Good flick.  The things people endure to survive, or to save others.  The problems people cause when they decide to get what they want by killing and hurting others.  You can't make a good place by refusing to respect the lives of others, and all that implies.

They are extreme.  We are hell bent on heading that direction.  Not there by a long shot.  We are fortunate for that, and much else.  Imagine no running water, no easy stores and seemingly unlimited selection, especially when it comes to breakfast cereal.

I hope people realize that cereal is mostly pure junk.  The ones that aren't frosted or shaped like monsters or animals are generally better.  It is easy enough to just look at it and know.  Many cereals are puffed imitation synthetic foodstuff.  Edible styrofoam.

But it sells.

So, The Good Lie is a very good movie and since it is based on truth.  True stories of this nature are better than fictitious survival tales.

It would be a good idea if the USA quit finding ways to arm and fund lunatics, sadists and garden variety tyrants while pretending to do otherwise.  Directly and indirectly major powers have supplied arms to whole nations of nitwit factions.

That's all I can say.
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And the show Vikings is pretty cool.  I especially like Ragnar's ex wife, whatever her name is.  Everyone likes her but she is not such an easy catch.  She's Viking royalty and doesn't need much.  This type of royalty is achieved through a coup.  And that always leaves one susceptible to another coup.

May be easier to be a Viking than one of the Lost Boys of Sudan.

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Movie, TV Ad reviews

The Imitation Game is mostly a very good movie.   They do well until they decide the whole sum of the guy's life is about being gay.  They are simply acting the other the side of the coin to what the state did with him.  This time we can blame England.

The real story is the fight genius always has in the face of officialdom--those who claim they are holy with a gun to your head.  In our country, people have forgotten the difference between circumstance and principle.  Missing that distinction is a key element in the failure of states, and the promotion of needless suffering and cruelty.   There are reasons why totalitarian societies enjoy mass executions on a scale hard to fathom.

They believe the ends justify the means.  And we have people in our congress who are seriously stupid enough to say things like, "I think China has the right idea ...".  Or they honestly believe Cuba's healthcare is a dream for all.  You think being nobody there is somehow easier and rewarded more than being nobody here?

Anyway, the guy built a machine, a mechanical computer, to break the nazi code machine, "Enigma". He called his machine, "Christopher".  The politics were maddening, and then later there was bizarre  harassment and convictions for being homosexual.  In England they gave people some sort of hormonal drugs.  They had to take them all the time or go to prison.  It really messed them up with lots of side effects.  This guy was socially clueless.  I don't think he understood why anyone cared.

If he did understand, he has one up on me.  That is what keeps shaking me up; the acceptance of the oversight and intrusive harassment of most of the population, by their elected, appointed, and self-proclaimed authorities.  They even encourage it , if they think it won't touch them.  Circumstance over principle.

So he committed suicide in 1954.  Alan Turing.  He very much influenced the outcome of WWII, and he influenced the development of the computer.

The whole story was a case of someone battling the state purely because of small minds and having to live by permission.  Left to their own devices, the British military, run by arrogant insufferable officers, would never  have let Turing work on breaking the code.  If they had had their way, Germany would have won the war.  All because of ego and arrogance.  And the worst sort of incompetence--the sort doesn't know it is incompetent.

 The Germans were able to radio transmit and it didn't matter who heard it. It was a code which changed every day, made possible by a coding machine called, "Enigma".

In the flick, one gets the idea that Churchill's office overrode the officers who didn't get what the mathematician was trying to do.  Of course, the story was held secret for 50 years.

The guy was seemingly semi-autistic.  He took everything literally, so he was lost socially.  But good looking women liked him.  Safe, I suppose.

That code breaking saga and the contributions of Alan Turing did not come out until sometime in the 1990s.  The Queen forgave him for being a poof, and everyone celebrated and said, "Thanks, Alan, for saving the day.  Sorry about the hormones and all that.  You can now posthumously be a flit and not go jail."  Much fanfare, pomp, and circumstance.  But the movie only does that in text at the end. They don't show the speeches and all. I made those up, but I think they are close.  Brian Williams was there and said I'm spot on.

Instead of realizing that immoral power is the culprit, they just go off on gay statistics and imply better laws are the deal. Nothing about limits on intrusiveness.  So few people get it. I must be wrong.

Worth seeing.
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Worst auto ad ever:  Fiat ad which has noisy, stupid snippets, some of them cartoons, of nonsense, and horrible sound effects.  And that is their ad.  A minute of obnoxious audio and video.  But the fiat is just sitting there in the middle of the unrelated trash, so you do know it is a Fiat ad.  That could be bad.  Because of that ad, I hope they fail and die.  I would not buy one.

Ad geared to disturbed and, probably, insane four year olds.

Well, if I wanted to buy one, I couldn't today, but in another world in which I could buy whatever I want, whenever I want,  I wouldn't buy a Fiat even as a party favor.   That is what we in Ad Land call a backfire.  The ad chases people off.

What Doesn't Kill You Just Means We Can't Remove You From Our Files

So, I'm thinking to myself, "Holy smoke!! It feels like someone installed a piece of 1/2" galvanized gas pipe behind my sternum, and they keep turning the fire up and down at random.   Please let's avoid any emergency room over reaction."

So, I do the right thing and all is bearable.  I call the alleged expert the next day.  The crackerjack office lady, maybe a nurse, says, "Oh he isn't here, I'll leave a note and maybe tomorrow you'll get a call from him."

What?  I just told you I am trying to find out something I can do to avoid drastic action.  Uh huh.  Well, he'll be in tomorrow and maybe call tomorrow afternoon.

I am convinced I am losing my mind.  People seem to be saying things to me which do not fit the context.  Especially medical people.  But then there was also the visa lady of no known first language.

I'm hope it is not just me, but if I am to go by numbers and the ever conclusive deal closer, "that many people can't all be wrong", it must be me.   I'm screwed.  So crazy I don't know I'm nuts.

Then there is the insurance deal.  On their site I do the "contact us" thing and send an email because they list about 10 top specialists who do not do business with them.  Will not accept that insurance, period.  I opted for the plan I have specifically because of one of the people listed.  Turns out he doesn't take this plan.

The insurance company replies about how there are issues with doctors and "the exchange", and confusion about what is and is not part of "the exchange".  Exchange this Mo..Fo.  Then they say what I ought to do is go to their site---I was on their site, logged in, and the email is internal to their site---and search the list of providers under my plan.

What?  Go do what I did before, but which did not work, and that is why I sent you a jmessage, and are you just playing with me, do you hate people and want me to die, or are you a new century moron with no sense of empathy, logic and compassion?   WTf'ingF?

I replied with, "What an odd reply.  You just suggested I refer to a list to find a physician in response to me informing you that the list is bogus and cost me much trouble.  Well, I do thank you for your insight into this matter, and concerned reply.  Best regards,  [my name here]

Here's the real problem: I have been more out of the mainstream than most for many years.  I'm not used to bureaucracy on the scale that has become normal to most people.  My brushes with the self titled healthcare industry are changing that.  My weakness is that I can't get used to it and have almost no temper control in the face of the absurd.  Especially when it involves officialdom.

I have to show ID to let these butt diving bastards do their thing, like I'm going to crash someone else's colonoscopy or spinal tap.  Do not need it to vote or use my credit card-9 times out of 10.  That is the level of reason you get when things are over-controlled from a centralized governing authority. It never ever fails.

Hence my Centralization theory of systems, which I described years ago, complete with a colorful graph.  You paid no attention so I won't repost it.  It holds true of social governing systems mechanical systems, just about all things.

Anyway, the expert reminded me of that internet advertisement where someone is calling about lack of service and the guy finally says, "you need to call someone about that!!"  Oh, maybe blabla and see and ear nose throat, etc.  No no no.

I'm seeing plenty enough people. We are not adding to it.  Everything is somehow related to that area with the 1/2" pipe.  No more need to go up my backside or make movies in the stomach.  I guess the other stuff, maybe I cannot explain.  But I still think it is related.

I'm told we have two separate things going on.  Maybe.  But I know I am a better trouble shooter than 99% of everyone, doctors or not, given the same information.  It is the main thing I have going.  But I cannot apply it because I cannot usually articulate my process, and rarely do people give you the information you need.  They dislike being questioned.  And the medical profession dislikes you having the audacity to form an opinion of your own without their approval.

I should have been a doctor, pilot, lawyer, all the professions that demand some brains and an insufferable ego which insists you are superior to all who are unlike yourself.  I think I'm superior, potentially, to most all of them.  So you see why I could be comfortable in a field that demands unreasonable ego and view of one's worth.

I've found my ego bumping against that of a doctor or two.  I ended up winning in the end.  Question me like I do not know what I'm talking about?  They learn.  I just want this scavenger hunt to be over.

Mostly, it really is.  But even then you have to do certain things.  They have another thing in mind on one of the issues that I am going to decline. I just think it unnecessary.  The need to look at the gas pipe.  It is the kind in fireplaces.  Don't go looking elsewhere.  No need.  I live here.  I know what is what.

It gets old being both tired and angry.  I'm not always angry though.  I'm working on just being calmly abrasive rather than passionately angry.