What you have to do when your credentials fail you.

If you remember the last time we got together I mentioned to you I was a chicken whisperer. I chose this vocation because wearing cheap wire rim glasses disqualifies me to be what I really wanted to be. Roy Rogers. Roy Rogers does not wear glasses. I wear glasses. And yes, broke them three or four times. Mostly in a tussle with another second grader. My folks were furious. Not with the other tussler but with me. Me someone who THINKS he should be Roy Rogers but a skilled chicken whisperer. So my tussling capabilities are limited. So off to Dr. Downs’s optic office for another pair. But the bottom line was I never wanted glasses in the first place. MY dad didn’t wear glasses. Tarzan didn’t wear glasses. Only Mrs. Block, my second grade teacher wore glasses. But she was over sixty-years old. Just a granny person needing glasses.

But when I wasn’t chicken whispering, me and my neighborhood friend Donnie were collection agents. A quick and dirty way to make easy money. Back then we collected glass soda bottles and traded them for hard cash. The twelve ounce glass bottle fetched and easy 2-cents. The quart size glass bottle gained us a nickel per bottle. This process would start early on Saturday mornings going house to house asking for empty soda bottles. At first we rang doorbells starting about 7-AM and quickly discovered people didn’t like coming to the door at seven Saturday morning. SLAM! The doors went. Some asked to go around the back in the alley and look in the trash bins. So Donnie and me did. Usually with some success. So we would collect enough bottles to make about 30-cents apiece. Then it was off to our personal banker. Joe Miller ran Miller’s Market on Olympic Boulevard and there we made our financial transactions. We would roll in a red wagon full of empty pop bottles and he would immediately pull out the correct change and place it firmly in our hands. Then We quickly went to the comic book section of Miller’s and chose one comic, two Double Bubble gums, a Snickers bar, and would hand back the hard earned cash to Joe Miller. He must have thought we were just financial wizards. “Firm but even handed”. No one would ever take advantage of me and Donnie for sure.

What enterprises did you engage in back in grade school?

This is not a partisan wish list.

I am almost sure we can agree on a few things. Easy access to affordable healthcare being one. Reduced inflation being another. I would like a few potholes filled in and some wider roads here and there. Most teachers would like a pay raise. Do we agree on these things?
So how do we get there?

My sage advice.

Here is my mid-term advice.  Vote for a woman every time and seldom vote for a Republican.  Yes, it’s that simple.  I am convinced women are much smarter than men.  Especially somewhat youngish to middle-aged women.  Again, do not vote for Men who are elderly and fossilized into extreme narrow right-wing politics.  I would suggest instead vote for smart and a knowledgeable Independent or Democrat leaning women.  If you follow my sage advice, I know for certain government will improve by fifty-percent.  Trust me.  I’m an old white former Republican.  I know what I’m talking about.

 

 

Sent from Mail for Windows

 

The answer my friends is blowing in the winds.

Homes and buildings need to be a bit more aerodynamic with less wind drag. Something that would withstand a high-speed wind-tunnel test and hopefully escape damaging high wind tornados or hurricanes.
We may have to change the architectural structure of a home or building in order to reduce wind resistance. Rounded corners, stucco instead of brick, less eave overhang, roof shoulders instead of gables, and lower and smaller chimneys. And what we are trying to do is design a home with less wind catching drag.
The whole idea of aesthetic and eye appealing form may have to go the way of a box framed house and more of a low roofed dome or smooth sided ‘Airstream’ looking structure.
One idea might be to take one or some of the mothballed aircraft parked out in the western deserts and strip it’s wings and tail section and half-way bury it in the ground to achieve this aerodynamic design. Providing a dozen or more home interiors. Never the less, tossing out the old high grand and traditional Victorian looking home and replaced by a less wind resisting modern home. Using a mothballed jet might a bit far fetched but you know what I am getting at. It might have to be a Quonset hut with rounded ends. Maybe. Something like a rectangular igloo with flushed rounded windows. Windows that follow the contour of the structure while remaining aerodynamic. And some of this would have to be built into the local building codes. Especially near open ocean waters near the gulf.
But my guess this idea will not fly with architects and home designers. Even though New Englanders built the classic New England style home with simple eve less roofs with few windows. So, forget whatever I suggested. Just don’t live near the gulf coast. Live in a cave with a thick and heavy door. Good luck.

Why do those guys talk like that?

Who’s correct here?
People north of the Canadian border or south? And I am talking correct pronunciation of certain words.
When speaking of living in a house is it howse as the southern neighbors pronounce it or howoose as the northern neighbors pronounce it. When pronouncing the word about is it abowt or is it aboot? If you go outside do we go awtside or ootside? If you are out at home plate, is it owt or oot at home plate? Tell me. I want to know. Somebody is right and somebody else is not so right. I had never noticed the late Alex Trebek saying oot or oose. So, there! Plus, I had never noticed the late famed ABC news anchor Peter Jennings saying howoose. So there again.
And what is this deal with Celsius and the metric weather talk? Good grief! Oh so confusing.

Less product for more money.

Shrinkflation. What is it?
I generally am not litigious but I very much would like to sue the fashion industry. They too have jumped on this “shrinkflation” concept. Reduced product size but selling at the same old price. As you might have noticed with other consumer goods that they are becoming less in size or volume for the previous price if not more. Shrinkflation.
You might have notice toilet paper has become narrower with at least a half inch reduced from its width. And paying the same price and in some cases, we are paying a bit more. Shrinkflation.
My granola bars are becoming shorter and again I am pay Ing the same old price as I did with the original size. Screw the consumer and reward the shareholder. Shrinkflation.
When manufacturers are producing items by the gazillions this shrinkage is a huge savings for them and their stockholders. Just never mind the consumer. Reward the poor people investing in these companies. Shrinkflation.
Now here is where I am a bit miffed if not ‘red faced’ angry. The men’s fashion designers and clothing manufacturers have arbitrarily and in their own interests have decided to reduce the length of zippers on men’s pants or shorts. Saving manufacturing costs by offering something shorter. Zippers are typically ten to eleven inches long on most men’s trousers. What they sew in today is only about five or six inches. I first thought I had purchased women’s wear. But no. We men have been ‘short zippered.’ Creating a cost savings for the brand. A savings passed along to the stockholder or investor in the form of increased profit. Creating a hardship for the customer.
Now here is what I am talking about. The shorter the zipper the more difficult it becomes to facilitate a necessary operation at a wall urinal. No more just zipping down and pointing. With the short zipper pants, one has to unbuckle ones pants, zip down, and lower the pants a bit in order to point. Risking losing one’s pants and possibly dropping the pants. Totally embarrassing one’s self and maybe mooning the guy standing in line behind. And for all this humiliation, I wish to sue the fashion industry. If I can recruit enough disgruntled men such as myself, we could file a Class Action law suit. Forcing the garment makers to return to the proper zipper length in men’s pants. Could you imagine buying a pair of Levi 5 0 1 jeans with only four buttons? Diehard Levi fans would wet their pants.

There are no Starbucks on Mars.

Mars or bust.
Why are we in such a fever to go to Mars? Couldn’t we be just as happy going to the Moon? The Moon is so much closer. Just think of all the money that could be saved by only flying to the Moon. Possibly we might find Martians on the Moon. Is that who we are looking for? Or is Mars the only science experiment we are interested in.
But anyway, who really is interested in Mars exploration? Rocket scientist? Geologists? Archeologists? Climatologist? Mineralogists? Network news anchors? Or maybe just land developers? Who knows? What would we expect to find when we get to Mars
It has been estimated it would take at least 75 to 100 different specialized scientists and engineers in one trip to create a livable environment in order to inhabit Mars. Along with medical doctors and other medical professionals. Plus a few individuals willing to procreate and colonize Mars. Read the book Dr. Strangelove.
As far as I know at this time there is no current engineered rocketing means of coming back to Earth. No such returning rocket or space shuttle. But I have been known to be in error about subjects like this.
This is all to not mention it will take approximately six months just to get to Mars. Could you imagine being stuck in the middle seat for six months? However, it takes less than a week rocketing to the Moon. To me the Moon has more commercial possibilities.
Both planets have a somewhat hostile environment. Low gravity, no breathable air, and depending how you face the sun a person can freeze on one side facing away from the Sun and burn up facing the sun. So, wearing a heavily insulated suit would be required to travel alfresco outside an artificial environment.
Now tell me, who really would want to go to Maars anyway? Young unattached scientifically trained adults I guess. People who are focused on exploration and experiment and not too attached family left behind. Again, they might not ever come back to Earth. But think about it, most of the folks traveling on the Mayflower away from the motherland way back when never returned.
But before you head off into deep space consider these possible scenarios, where would you go to buy your Starbucks white lattes and stale pastry on Mars? There is no cell-phone coverage on Mars either. It might be a few years before a Super-cuts opens for business on Mars. What would anybody on Mars do without a Trader Joes? However, all of this could easily be constructed on the Moon. Perhaps the Moon will need a Chamber of Commerce in order to lure visitors to the Moon instead. “Take advantage of our special two-week round trip offer for only $375,000. Includes hotel with complimentary breakfast. Ground transportation and gratuities not included.”
‘Fly me to the Moon. Let me play among the stars.’

How does this mahogany box work?

Our very first television.
It was 1952 on Simmons Avenue in East L A not that far from the Willard Battery factory water tower and just downwind from the B. F. Goodrich tire factory. The latest electronic marvels had entered our Okie home. Once television was brought into our tiny East Los Angeles Livingroom entertainment quickly transitioned from radio listening to the new watch-it-now visual format of T V.
It took the better part of a Saturday afternoon for my dad and my older brother to rig this thing up. Lots of shouting through the roof to “turn it to the right. No, stop. Turn it back the other way.” And what they were doing is rotating the rooftop antenna mast back and forth to hone in on the best TV signal And hopefully a signal without double images. A single image is best. All of this was after running a flat brown wire from the antenna, down the side of the house, into the window, and attach it to the televisions antenna screw down connection on the back of the TV set. An engineering feat equal to doing a load of laundry. But anyway, my brother and dad got the job done. There it was. A single image picture on the screen but a bit ill defined. It was like taking a black and white photograph and laying wax paper over the image resulting in reducing the detail of the picture. Just a bit fuzzy but discernable none the less. Sometimes an Indian feather headdress test pattern would appear or sometimes a tall hatted cowboy on a spotted horse would be shown on the fuzzy screen. All this magic coming from the television transmitter farm up on Mount Wilson near the observatory. TV technology in Los Angeles was just amazing back then.
What we had here in our Livingroom was a 12-inch simi-round Sears black and white TV screen set into a square mahogany wooden box set atop for mahogany legs. There was a big channel selector knob and an on/off switch below. A volume knob, a contrast knob, a horizontal hold control knob, and a vertical hold control knob along with several smaller tweaking settings on the back panel. Probably weighed about fifty pounds. Not sure how much it cost. My dad never told us.
But anyway, I as an eight-year-old boy when alone in the living room loved to tweak the many knobs. The fuzzy picture would lean to the left. Then lean to the right. Then the image would start to rolling like a slow reel of film. If I couldn’t achieve a steady picture, I would just turn it off and go listen to our less complicated radio. “Hi Ho Silver! The Lone Ranger rides again.”