Registering to vote

 Ken came over last night, and I got my pay check which he says won't bounce. We talked about stuff, and it was pretty much just the usual. 

I woke up the usual time, around 2:30 in the afternoon, and packed things. I can't deposit my pay check until tomorrow so it was the usual route of post office, FedEx, stopped at Sprouts for beer, found packing stuff on the way home, and got back here. 

I'll deposit this latest check tomorrow, and my level of worry is down maybe by one notch. I'm still worried because Ken's not paid that $1000.95 he owes the landlord, and we still have our present lease running out on August 31st. 

So the plan is still to be able to step onto a plane September of this year instead of September of next year. Maybe Ken will be able to make things hold together and maybe he won't. 

The guy makes pretty exactly 10X what I do, $200k to my $20k. But being a devout Suburbian is expensive. You have to have a McMansion or at least as big a house as you can possibly afford. You have to have N+1 cars where N is the number of people in the house. You have to eat in restaurants a lot, take regular vacations whether you can afford them or not, and you have to have several credit cards that are at or near their limit.  It's a very distinct, and expensive, subculture. 

Another piece of mail that went out was my voter registration. I've been sent two forms with different serial numbers, so I filled out one (disposed of the other) and sent it in. Of course among other things the form asks for one's race. because race is everything in the US. 

I wrote in "White" because although I am certainly more than "one drop" Tatar that doesn't count the way being "one drop" Negro would. "One drop" Negro would have gotten me life on a red carpet, with free college plus extra pay for going to college, plum job offers, etc. 

Now ask yourself, would Japanese, over there in Japan, their nation, enact laws putting Japanese at a disadvantage and, say, Koreans or Filipinos at a huge advantage? Would Spaniards set up laws against themselves, and in favor of Ethiopians? When has any group that's doing fine, enact laws to sabotage themselves? 

The answer is plain and clear and can be expressed in a single word: Jews. The very group whose signature move is to infiltrate a host country, then open its gates to an attacking army because profit. This ranges in practice from physically opening a medieval fortress' gates to taking over the media of a country and brainwashing people, as is done in these modern times. 

In any case, growing up where being white is a disadvantage, and living in a time where it's the same (moving to California didn't get me away from anti-white discrimination because Da Jooz run the whole thing, not just the state of Hawaii) I've had to become canny. 

Going onto Ebay has been a lifesaver because Ebay has no mechanism to pay a seller more of less according to their race. Being self-employed is pretty much the key to getting around the ZOG rules. 

But in Hawaii there have been extra nuances. For instance, selling trinkets in Waikiki. You can't do that if you're white. If something physical changes hands, you're going to spend the night in jail, if you're white. If you're non-white, go ahead it's fine. But in playing music, nothing physical changes hands. Plus, being white and being a musician is actually kind of good because there's the "exotic factor". 

The most valued tourists in Hawaii are the Japanese tourists and Asian tourists in general. They spend money, they're polite, etc. And imagine growing up in Japan and seeing on TV etc all these musicians who are white, and then in Hawaii there's one in the flesh. 

I've been astonished seeing white guys playing guitar not only barely tolerated but considered as OK as anyone, on the strip in Waikiki, on YouTube but that appears to be the situation. I think there's always been less racism against whites in music in Hawaii for various reasons. Firstly, music is not considered a prime occupation, and also a lot of musicians that Hawaii musicians admire are .... white. Get any old local musician guy talking and he'll gush about white guys like Chet Atkins.  

So this is why busking and doing things like maybe playing in some bands to fatten up the sound, playing Taps, stuff like that factors so largely in my plans. 

There are tons of other things I can do but I'm not even counting on Ebay any more because although once back in Hawaii I'll be out from under the rigid non-compete situation I'm in now, it appears the small-hat that runs GameStop (running it into the ground apparently) is trying to buy Ebay for some reason. And given that the small-hats own and operate our financial system, this may actually happen. The problem is the particular parasite proposing this has no knowledge of the history of Ebay, and wants to try changes that have been tried and failed utterly. 

So Ebay may ... go away. Etsy will presumably still be around, and there are tons of other ways to sell stuff so I'm not that worried. But it will be interesting. The small hats are over-reaching and over-reaching and the anger is building, like a tsunami that is only inches high when it crosses the high seas and then when things start to pinch and the water gets shallower.... 

 

Visiting a sick friend

 That sick friend being my bank account. Amazingly, the pay check I got last week didn't bounce. 

 I rode downtown to the bank to check on that, because Ken typically can't find out from his phone or anything, so it's easier to just ride downtown. I figured I'd get bubble mailers too, but only got one from the Amazon place. 

And I stopped at Nijiya on the way back for $20 in sushi, a bottle of tea, and a little apple pie thing for dessert, to sort of celebrate. I was worried enough about things that I even had a weird dream about my money situation. 

So I figured I'd better go. Then after getting back here, I packed one thing that had to go out today so that was a ride up to the big post office and on the way back I looked for packing materials and neat stuff in general and found nothing. At least I spent my last bit of change for two packages of "Mama" brand green curry ramen, because I really like that flavor and I might not be up by 99 Ranch until Monday. 

 

 

It ruined me

 "Streaming ruined gaming for me for YEARS. It took me ages to find that part of myself again" 

- u/OhGodImHerpin on Reddit

I was considered destined to be an artist. The oldest was going to be a writer, I was going to be an artist, and the youngest, a natural entertainer because it's that or starve if you're the youngest/smallest/weakest, was going to be an entertainer. 

I was continually having drawing materials put into my hands, and I was probably known as the kid whose hands always had ink all over them (from pens) because that was pretty much the case. 

Both parents were frustrated artists, and I think the fact that I showed any interest in drawing as any kid would, plus my eyesight being so bad, the idea was I'd become this genius nearly-blind artist and save the family fortunes. 

As we became poorer and poorer, art-for-fun (I loved drawing my seashells) became art to make money, and I really tried my best but the internal motivation was not there. It had already become a job. 

I spent tons of time as a teen thinking there must be something wrong with me that I'm "talented" (I am not, but tons of successful artists are not) and thus I should love doing art, should do it instead of surfing, fishing, shell collecting, skateboarding, reading books, all the usual kid things. 

I really tried to push myself, thinking that would make me *want* to do it for hours a day, but that never worked. I could do it, but I was never actually all that interested. 

This same thing is why I think my mother was so miserable. Her mother was a tailor; took classes and could make a suit from scratch, really something. She probably loved it. She also gardened and had a number of plots of land in Pasadena that she gradually sold off as finances demanded. 

The thing is,  I think my mother showed some interest in the tailoring, and then was pushed to do it. My mother would become this great tailor and/or designer, and save the family fortunes... And my mother really tried. She could sew, all right, but I don't think her heart was in it. And she was miserable. Because here's this thing you know how to do, but you don't have any internal motivation to do it because it's become this thing you have to do, or are supposed to do. 

It seems simple as hell but it's taken me a long time to realize this. The first hint of this kind of thing is how Fielding Benson, noted surfer Becky Benson's younger brother, was being pushed to become this champion surfer (he was our neighbor) and instead liked to skateboard and do usual obnoxious kid things. The Bensons were a kind of surfing royalty, with their father, "Colonel" Benson financing and filming a lot of surfing movies, and here was the crown prince not doing his duty. 

The thing is, there's art I did love, I loved comics and once I was exposed to them, "underground" comics. But I knew that if artists don't make a living, underground cartoonists *really* don't make a living. Plus you can get in real trouble poking even the mildest fun at, well, anything or anyone, in visual art.  

I'd packed a bunch of things last night, packed a few more today, and took my big load to the post office and FedEx. 

Running on financial fumes because of my rule of putting my $400 weekly pay check into the bank and taking $200 out and that's it, that $200 is my allowance. But I got what I need. 

It's been cloudy and grey and not all that windy, but like a big lid has been put over the valley, made of cloud/fog. Kind of neat really. Not primo busking weather though. 

It's hard for me to concentrate on busking when I've got a million plans going through my mind about what to sell off, what to give away, and how to at least go through the motions here and keep the sales numbers good. 

 

 

 

Don't start none, won't be none.

 A classic example of this is seen all the time on r/publicfreakout on Reddit, where, say, Generic Out-Of-Shape White Guy at, say, a restaurant, goes over to Relatively Fit And Larger Black Guy (and family) and says something, generally including the word "vinegar" without the "vin" and thus, gets his ass handed to him. Things were going along fine, and then someone's going to start shit and then cry about being a victim. 

Firstly, I'm hearing on the radio that Our Most Zionist President has cooked up a plan for us to have Navy warships and who knows what other assets, to escort commercial ships through a 500 to 1000 foot wide "channel" through the 20 miles of the Straits Of Hormuz. So, instead of just the cost of fuel, now these ships, or more like we US goyim, are going to pay for this additional expense, which has to be several times the cost of the merchant ship's fuel. Iran was minding its own business as always, and now we've got this huge problem we, under our Most Zionist Government, have created. As always, victory to Iran! You're fighting for all of us! 

2nd example. I was up most of the night as usual, listing 20 things on Ebay and also during the day had done a bunch of stuff, sorted things, found things to toss out, etc. At 2AM the illegal night club started up, but no problem, it looked like the crowd would be small. The night before, the cops had come around on their own and rousted the pimps, hos, and johns out in the usual hilarious ants-leaving-a-kicked-over-anthill routine. I hadn't called them or made a peep. 

Well, sure enough a pimp comes in with a few ho's and one of them comes up and knocks on my door. I've had these idiots pound on the door, in the past, so hard that the door was actually flexing like in a cartoon. So I had no idea how persistent they were going to be, made sure my big knife and pepper spray were at hand, and called the cops. 

And the idiots got rousted again. Fuck 'em. As I explained to the police operator, I'm not bothering them, not even going out there at night, but they're coming over and bothering me. And in not too much time, the cops came around and rousted them again. 

The thing is, if I'd been following normal hours, I'd be asleep and the knocking on the door would have awakened me, probably thinking it's Ken or Tom or someone, some kind of emergency or at least urgent thing. The result would have been the same, calling the cops, but being rousted out of sleep is even worse. This is one reason I keep staying up all night. And also, the people running the illegal night club not only have made an enemy, they want to make sure I hate them with the maximum amount of vitriol. 

Getting back to the Iran Kicking Our Ass thing, it's hilarious that the expectation is that large commercial ships, larger than US aircraft carriers, will be able to stay in a de-mined 500-1000 foot wide "channel". Ships are just not that precise, and even with a compliment of tugboats it would be tricky. Plus of course the companies that insure ships are going to raise their rates, drastically. Hell I've known at least since I became an adult, that no one will attack Iran because they can shut down something called the "Strait of Hormuz" which would be terrible. Well, no one, at least, until our Zionist Occupation Government finds someone stupid enough to do so. 

 

Depressed

 That's why I haven't been practicing, much less busking; I've been depressed. It's kind of helped that it's been grey and blustery and not all that warm, not great busking weather. 

I've been depressed I think because I'm feeling like I have a bit less control over my life because right now I don't know if I have to be out of here in the planned year and a third, or in 4 months, or in less time than that. 

And because there's stuff I have to do like get my Real ID. My driver's license is ... well .... it expired last year and that's all I'm gonna say. 

So I *finally* had a look at the email the DMV sent me and somehow I'm supposed to send them documents ... like scan them? But bring in the originals too... And there's mention of both making an appointment and simply checking wait times for walk-ins. 

So here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to get together all the papers I can which is basically my passport to prove I'm me, and then a few things with my address on them to show that Yes I live here in California and have been doing so for quite some while. And my $2 thrift store glasses in case I need to take an eye test. That's it. 

But really, I don't give a flip about being licensed to drive a car or ride a motorcycle any more. I've gone since 2012 without having to drive a car even once, and back in Hawaii there are buses, cabs, Ubers etc. I haven't even taken an Uber, ever, and have used cabs a bit, and I'd rather my money go to the old local guy with a big yellow car that says SIDA TAXI as far as that goes. 

Sure, I've thought about how neat it would be to get a cool vintage bike like a Honda C70 "Passport" but in reality anything with a motor can be a real pain in the ass. So just having a state ID card would be fine with me. Those are a bit of an oddity here in California but back in Hawaii they're routine, and all I had for some years. 

So if I run into some hitch at the DMV like they don't like my eyesight (they never did), I can say Look, I just want a state ID card. 

So I think the plan would be to go to the Los Gatos DMV because that's the really nice one. It's somewhere around the south end of Vasona Park and I've been around there before. 

 

Making up my mind

 Last night I made my mind up about the flutes; I'm keeping the Yamaha in its Yamaha case, which fits in my Fjallraven backpack just fine. In the time I've had the backpack sitting upstairs in the loft, it's collected a nice patina of dust, making it look suitably "humble". 

Fjallravens are not waterproof, and one is supposed to apply special Fjallraven wax to it and hit it with a heat gun, but I can just genuine 3M waterproofing stuff at Lowe's, or if needed I can just carry a large plastic bag with me to put over the backpack if I'm caught in rain. This is much more of a concern back in Hawaii where it rains a lot, but unless I end up homeless, I don't plan to carry the thing around. 

Last night I got 20 things camera-ready, because the Ebay business must go on. I also tossed some things out and each day I'm going to de-list and discard one thing that's a real loser. 

Today I went out to dispose of trash and buy things and the usual futzing around. On my way back (I hadn't realized how late it was; it was 8:00 by then) I stopped to check out a new shawarma truck that's set up across the street from here.

I'd checked them out online some days ago, so I had a general idea of the food and the prices. I decided to go with a beef shawarma salad, and the gal said they were out of rice. I said that's OK, just substitute in a pita. OK! I paid, and it was something like $18, so I handed her a $20 and she didn't have change so I said don't worry about it (I was going to say to keep the change anyway). 

While waiting, I ended up talking with a couple of Turkish guys, about various things. One useful thing that came up was, one of the guys, an engineer, wants to try an Apple computer. I said to go to Fix Laptop or just about any computer repair place, and if they get a desktop instead of a laptop, they'll get a lot more capability for a lot less money. 

We also got talking about where we're from, and they're both Turkish, although the darker guy joked about the lighter guy being Bosnian or something and I said Yeah, he could be Bosnian. Then the "Bosnian" joked about the darker guy being Indian and that was a big laugh. But no, they're both Turkish... I said OK what am I? They said I look "Baltic" and I said that's funny because on my mother's side they were all Lithuanian, but actually Lithuanian Tatars. That got me fist bumps because for some reason Tatars are considered "Turkic" as much as Central Asian, maybe more so, although being Turkic has more to do with language groups then genetics. The warm weather has me tanned up a bit early this year. 

So of course some joking Judenhass happened, and that was a good time also. Eventually my order was done, which was odd because the guys were there first. But the gal insisted it was for me, and handed me a heavy bag. OK then, See you guys, have a good weekend! And rode off with the bag hanging off the handlebar and back to here, and I seemed to have gotten a full dinner. A huge portion of beef, on ... rice! And hummus, 2 pitas, parsley salad. 

I ate the good parts and one of the pitas, and now the birds will have rice and pita bread in the morning when they discover the plate left out here. And I have to wonder, did the gal screw up and then have straighten things out when one of the guys got the salad I'd ordered, or did she hear our Judenhass joking and decide this deserves a full meal, and cook one up for me instead of the salad? In any case the food was really good. 

But getting back to the computer advice I gave the engineer guy. I, too, could just get an Apple desktop if I want to go to the Apple ecosystem, or a PC desktop, instead of a laptop because honestly the only reason I use a laptop now is that originally I had to pack up my 'puter and take it to and from Ken's house once a week, and when I list things on Ebay I have to set this laptop aside to clear the desktop to put the things on to photograph them. But once I'm back in Hawaii I either won't be selling on Ebay or if I am, I can arrange some other place to photograph things since I'll be dealing in very small things like seashells, jewelry, trinkets of various types. Nothing big. And that means I can just go to a used computer place and get a desktop. 

 

 

"Oh, shit"

 I woke up around 2 or 2;30. I decided to get out of here quickly and get over to the music store to look for a flute case. 

I have two flutes; a Yamaha that's not great, kind of rattly compared to new, but plays, and also had a ding on the lip plate that doesn't affect playing but would make any flutist cringe. And a Bundy that's got a wonderful glow to it, looks playable (haven't tested it) no dings, but comes with an horrible big clunky case. The Yamaha has a nice sleep Yamaha case. 

I want to keep one flute and one case. If the Bundy plays OK I frankly prefer it to the Yamaha because it looks so nice, and is perfect to be "my old high school flute". So ideally I want another case, keep the Yamaha with the Yamaha case, the new/used case would be for the Bundy, and the ugly Bundy case would go in the trash. 

The music store closes at 4:30 so I really wanted to get a move on. I left here around 3 I think, got over to the bank and deposited my pay check; the IRS has cashed my check so this, with my pay check deposited, puts me at just about exactly 5 grand. 

Then I rode over to the music store. This all sounds easy but in fact there were tons of detours and road work and stuff, so it was all a bit of an ordeal. 

I got to the music store and the guy has two types of flute cases, a generic case for $50 which he swears is new but the latches are corroded, and a "French style" which is probably about $100 and is sleeker, having no handle. 

My phone rang and it was Ken. Did I deposit my check, he wanted to know. I said sure, just did a half-hour ago. "Oh shit!" said Ken. I said that the words Oh and Shit are not words I like to hear in connection with banking. His work hasn't paid him, and he thinks he can move some money around so my check will clear but also the landlord isn't being paid their $1000.49 which is becoming the hill Ken, or this business anyway, is heading to die on. 

I decided to wait on the case; It'll always be here the music store guy said, and I rode off, back towards downtown. It was about 4:00 now and I thought, I still have time to go over to the bank but is un-depositing a check even a thing? And I should not have to. 

I went over to Whole Foods and got some meatloaf, broccoli, mashed potatoes, and a beer. I hung out and talked with some guys some, and ate my food, and tried to think a bit less. 

Pretty soon I was done, went downstairs and bought more stuff, and as I did with the food, got cash back so that my total withdrawal from my bank was $200. That's my allowance for the week. It's a pretty good idea; spend half and save half. On an income of $20k, it means saving $10k, except for the $3k going to the IRS so call it $7k. Still a pretty good savings rate, about a third of my income. 

But now I don't know. Ken's got all the good intentions in the world. I could sell some stuff around here that's too big or awkward to ship on Craig's List and count that towards my pay and can limp along that way for a while. 

From what Ken told me, he's got too much credit card debt and he's trying to get that consolidated. The guy at my bank told me, again, that they can offer a credit card with somewhere around a year interest free, to Ken or for that matter, to me. It appears everything's not done by mail any more, and payment is done online, somehow. There's even auto-pay. 

But it makes no sense to get a credit card with a bank I won't be with much longer. I like to think I've got a 4 months here left at least because our present lease runs out on August 31, I might not even have that much time. 

 I need to sell off a lot of things. I plan to travel as lightly as possible going back home. There are no winter and summer clothes back home, just ... clothes. I have a Fjallraven backpack that I guess will do for a carry-on bag holding the flute, important papers, phone and charger, a good book for the plane ride, etc., and then I need to get a larger thing for a checked bag that will hold the cornet in its case, the cornet gig bag, clothes, etc. 

I plan Moving Day as, taking everything that's mine that I don't want to leave to Ken to deal with so pretty much everything, put in the parking lot and putting a free ad on Craig's List, Come And Get It. Stick my bags on the bike trailer and ride to the #60 Airport Flyer bus stop, leave the bike trailer etc., there with a big FREE sign on it, hop on the bus, and off to good old Alaska Airlines' terminal.