30,000 and counting

 The big news right now is, 30,000 tech jobs gone, and counting. The numbers will get bigger, of course. Tech has proven to be a very bad field to go into, aside for a tiny upper crust of talented and mostly lucky people. It's proven to be a worse career gamble than art or music, because at least in art or music you can set up on the sidewalk and make a decent living. 

A decent living these days means enough to pay for a storage unit, daily food, and to replace one's tent and sleeping bag occasionally when the homeless camp you're in gets "swept". 

I listed 20 things last night, and got an hour's practice in on the shinobue. It's a simple matter of developing breath strength, and learning the "feel" of going to the higher octave which I'm learning is all about that feel. My bad habit is tensing up like a trumpet player. 

I really wish, when I'd heard that quite good flute player being hassled at San Pedro Square, I'd gone and hung out with the guy, maybe bought him dinner, heard his story. 

I slept until 3, then went back to sleep and had what I call a "worry dream" where it's made up of things I worry about. In the dream, my bike got stolen and utterly stripped. The frame wasn't even worth keeping. 

On the light rail the other day, a young guy got on with a folding bike that looked pretty decent, a Durban "Metro" and the guy looked like a worker rather than a bum, so I told him it was a neat bike and asked how much it had cost. "I got it for $50 from a guy". OK then. It turns out they cost about $400 new and can be bought from Amazon. 

Considering I'm leaving in 2 years, is spending $400 on a folding bike worth it? It would make a nice 2nd bike that I'd actually have room to store. I could even buy a bracket for my Burley trailer and pull the trailer with it. And it would be easy to take on the train up to the city and explore around. And it uses 20-inch tires which are a really common size and easy to get. 

Once I'm back in Hawaii I'd not mind spending on a nice folding bike, even one of the expensive $1000+ ones, because I could buy a piece of carpet runner to set it down on and keep it in the room I'll rent. A folding bike could be a life-changer. Since I'd enjoy riding all the way around the island, Kaena Point included, on any bike, a folder could work fine too. 

As for my Catastrophic Flat, a can of what we motorcyclists used to call "Spray And Pray" could have gotten me right back on the road. But a folding bike could probably be taken on DaBus to get home from something like that. It'd certainly not be a problem for a cab. 

So a $400 folding bike would be $200/year for the extra quality of life a folding bike could give me. That might be worth it. I'll have to think about this some more. 

As soon as the sun got low today the zombies came out. First a zombess on what looked like an electric bike with the electric stuff stripped off. Just looking around... Then some zombies milling around the now closed and locked dumpster that looked like it was just full of cardboard boxes anyway. Maybe one of them has learned to pick locks. They didn't dig for long, though, and they all went back to Crack Alley, AKA the stretch of Rogers Avenue across from the cement plant. 

Then a zombie on a bike towing a shopping cart by a rope - the shopping cart swung back and forth across a wide arc but the zombie didn't seem to mind - or notice - a bit. 

A day off finally

 By the time I got in, from all the walking around and nabbing stuff from the bountiful dumpster (only a few pieces of foam and a power cord) and talking with the Mexican guys, who'd have surely given me all the tequila I wanted if I'd wanted, and getting back in here and cooking something (Portuguese sausage slices with garlic and cabbage) and of course reading lots of doomy stuff on Reddit, I was done and decided to try to call it an early night. 

Of course I put in some time blowing octaves on the shinobue. The beauty of the shinobue is not only is it an instrument I want to become competent on, but it's so easy to just pick up and play. It's small, light, one piece, and has a lovely piercing tone when done right, yet can also play a wonderful low tone down at the bottom of its range. 

This is why I decided to go ahead and order a bamboo one from Mejiro. I want to finish with my modifications of the plastic one, which is mainly take the ends, which don't have wraps on them yet, and fill in some areas with J-B Weld, then wrap with black sign vinyl, then put on wraps. This will be practice for putting wraps on the bamboo one. 

I wish I'd had a shinobue to play on instead of the little Aulos recorder I'd bought when I was just turning 18 because I couldn't afford anything else. It seems that the key to success is to simply practice a lot, as I'm getting progressively better through sheer stubbornness. 

Although the big dumpster, irresistible to the zombie population, has been removed there was apparently more stuff thrown away in the normal-sized one and stuff left in the hedge by the wall, as zombies were around both, digging away, for hours and hours and even after dawn, were in the dumpster digging away. 

These are the same zombies that left $150 worth of silverware out in the parking lot, for any and every bum to look at and pass over, and which I picked up last night. So it figures they'll expend hours of their energy and time digging for cheapo glittery things and lipstick with lead in it etc. 

The silverware's just plated stuff but from a good manufacturer and made in the 1950s and will do fine on Ebay. At the rate I'm finding stuff, I'm almost tempted to go off on my own, but as I've mentioned, Ebay will freak the fuck out, think I'm a "shill" account of Ken's and kick us both off of their system for life. I can't risk doing that to Ken. 

When I move back to Hawaii it will be almost like that scene in The Terminator where Arnold arrives where he needs to be naked, with nothing. I don't plan to take a computer with me, or even a phone but will get a phone with a local number right away. Whatever computer and phone I'm using here will have the data destroyed. I'll need to find someone in my temple who has family back there who will let me use their address for at least a bit, and I'll be extremely lucky if I can find a room, loft, garage, or back yard to rent in this way. It'll be rough. But an address will enable me to rent a storage unit. 

I'll arrive with the clothes I'm in and one change, zoris on my feet as closed shoes and Hawaii are not a good match, my flutes, one carry-on bag and one checked bag which I'll assume I may or may not lose. The flutes will be carry-able in such a way that I can *always* have them on me. Plus ID, cards etc. in one of those around the neck pouches. 

1000s of miles away, with a completely different computer, I may be able to set up an Ebay business OK. I'm undecided whether to go the full ascetic route and get onto Social Security right away which will sort of enforce same, or whether to do a combination of playing music and finding and selling stuff on Ebay. I know it will be rough. I may be limited to a storage unit and a sleeping bag for a while. Or I may live in hotels which will eat money rapidly but may ease things. 

I may even get a "vacation package" that involves a week or two or three in a hotel along with round-trip airfare as also in my plans is to make the whole thing look like a temporary trip. Just a vacation. I'll tell the people at my bank that I'm going to see an ailing sister, and to make sure my debt card works so far away. Of course I won't use that return ticket, but a lot of places won't rent to you if you don't have one. 

In any case I figure I'll likely blow through about 5 grand just getting over there and having a place to land for a few weeks to a month or two, then try to eke out living for another year on another 10 grand. This is assuming no inputs from busking or flipping items I find. I want to be able to do nothing, if I am so inclined, for a year. 

I really hope I can get back in communication with my older sister. Last night I was thinking, if I could cut off one hand, and that would somehow stop my older sister from having migraines, I'd seriously consider it. I could give up my right, and still be able to play the French horn, or my left, and play the trumpet. But that should give an idea as to how I really feel about my older sis. 

I really hope we can get back to being friends! I'm reminded, though, of the episode of the British TV series "Are You Being Served?" where Captain Peacock's old war buddy hits town. Capt. Peacock is a rather stuffy fellow who likes to give the impression that he's a member of the old British military elite, while his old war buddy is a can-do Jewish cockney-ish guy, who can survive anywhere and who, in the war, got things done. He liked to rib ol' Peacock about certain moments of cowardice on the part of the latter. I'd not rib my older sister about her moments of effective cowardice as she'd fall apart if I did, but that's certainly the vibe. 

She's about Punahou the way people are about CrossFit ... no need to ask, they'll *tell* you. But in spite of this, I've met a lot of nice people who went there, and some real characters like at least one of our local comedians went there, and at least one street performer, and one of the vet techs at the Blue Cross Animal Hospital (who was very nice) and tons of people, almost all of whom are not snobs. And I have great memories of the yearly carnival, and the White Elephant sale, and of hearing about the neat classes they taught there like German and chemistry. It takes more than one insecure snob to make me dislike such a neat place. 

I don't even resent her going, because with her migraines and eyesight, she'd not have been able to stand up to the lives we younger kids went through. My dad would have liked to send all of us there, and it made sense to start with the oldest. I'm glad at least one of us got to go, and I'm glad it was her because as mentioned, she was not equipped for the hard knocks the rest of us dealt with. 

I woke up at 4:30 because I'd needed the sleep. The guys next door had a car, apparently right outside the door here, that they were working on or something and the car alarm kept going off. But I woke up a bit before that so it didn't bother me that much. They eventually got it resolved and sped off. 

Although this is a day of rest, I really wanted to get out a bit so I bagged up some trash and walked up to the FedEx dumpster to get rid of it. I also wanted to see what kept the zombies so fascinated for so many hours last night. All it was, was cardboard and some trashy wooden furniture. There was an electric motor in the HVAC's trash but I dragged it out and tried to turn it and it would not turn so I left it on top of the dumpster for some metal scavenger to get. I also left out the big plastic jug from these bay leaves I'd bought on Amazon months or a year or more ago, that I'd used to preserve stored rice. (The bay leaves are bagged up in 8 small bags, labeled, to donate.) 

I had to be careful of two crazy zombies that came staggering along Queen's Lane but I'm pretty sure they noticed the innocent looking yellow "stick" I had in my hand was a long steel bolt and I'd be happy to use it, and I walked on and they didn't follow. Lust for blood and brains can only motivate the creatures so far. I dumped the trash in the FedEx dumpster and found a good box to pack something in, and picked up two Swisher Sweet envelopes with tobacco in them, to donate. People take the tobacco out and put weed in, weed + opiates, etc. But the tobacco, as such things go, is rather nice so I'll donate those. 

I came back out of the enclosed FedEx/Foxconn parking lot and here came a large black zombie, running. Running? Who runs in this hot weather? Luckily, a train, an actual freight train, was coming through and I was able to use its "wake" as a sort of protection to get across the street and get back in here. Forget when the sun in down, even when it's low the zombies come out to "play". 

I made the mistake of having the idea that I might, tomorrow being Sunday, go to the Berryessa swap meet, which is quite large and may have some interesting things. That was a very bad idea to have, because like almost everything here, you're strongly discouraged from going there unless you have a car. According to every resource I could find, to go there I'm to walk the mile and a half or so out to the light rail station, to take the light rail to a station up in Milpitas or Fremont, and from there to get on a BART train to the swap meet. That will get me only a half-mile away. 

I've been there on my bike and was nervous about leaving it parked in the bike rack there, but the time I went there were only 1-2 other bikes and my bike was no bothered at all. The whole area is so anti-walking and anti-bike that I was only one of 3 people who'd come by bike in the whole, huge, swapmeet. So maybe I'll just do that... 

The thing is, back on the island of Oahu, you know how you go to the swapmeet? You just get on the goddamn bus and go. The Aloha Stadium one is right across from the neat historical museums around Pearl Harbor, and the Pearl City one is just a bit past that. Go a bit further and you're in Wahiawa, which has several really neat pawn shops and an antique store or three. This is all just on one bus, the #52. For that matter, you can take that #52 bus right around to Hale'iwa and eat at a nice restaurant there, then take it around to the Windward Side and pick some shells, stop off in Kane'ohe for a snack, then right over the Pali with its beautiful views and right back to town. 

This is only example 3846384568103 of how living on the mainland is living in Hard Mode. 

A tiring day.

 Last night I did a bunch of things that I'd be "supposed" to do when I got up, but wanted them out of the way for sure. Things like shined my shoes, washed hair and shaved and cleaned up, got packages and bags and messenger bag all ready, etc. 

I was up all night of course, and got to observe things like the crazy shit zombies do, like a zombie went to the welding place's trash, where I'd already dug through for packing stuff and which featured a large black plastic bag of regular ol' disgusting "household" type trash, you know, food wrappers and snot rags and such, and after digging around a bit decided the black plastic bag 'o' garbage was valuable and took the whole thing. I can understand wanting the plastic, but then why not empty it out? And food wrappers and such make lousy campfire fuel as they're typically not dry enough and tend to stink when they burn. 

I got in an hour or a bit more doing octaves exercises on the shinobue and I'm actually improving on 'em. I think it just takes being stubborn and keeping up the practice no matter what. 

I woke up at about 2:30 and was out of here at 3:24. The walk out to the light rail station too me up to a few minutes before 4, and the train came right away so I was at the downtown post office at about 10 after 4. My bank visit went OK,  and I waited at the bus stop out front. A bus with an "OUT OF SERVICE" message on the front stopped, and I asked if they were going up by Walgreen's. It turned out to be a 64b, and would go right by there, with just a little loop by Diridon so I got on. The message thing was broken, the driver said, so he just stopped wherever he saw someone waiting at a stop, and told them what bus it was. 

I dropped off the FedEx package, and then went to Whole Foods for my meatballs and veggies (mushrooms this time) and near-beer. And got some chocolate and nuts because those are easy to carry. 

I had a plan, to go to Mountain View and visit West Valley Music. The idea being, they'll probably be selling off or even tossing out a lot of stuff, for their move which is this weekend. After this, they'll be on El Camino Real. I haven't been to Mountain View in a while and figured it was a pretty good idea. 

So I got on the CalTrain and went up there. And ... after all this plotting and planning, West Valley was just plain closed and that was that. No one working there, they were obviously partway through moving, and nothing was being tossed out either.  

I walked around a bit. That saxophone guy who's just plain a pain in the ear was doing his thing, and most of Castro Street was closed off to cars so it was really busy. Other than Mr. Saxophone Ear-Pain, I saw no other buskers. The sax guy probably has a sort of arrangement that happens, where organizers, wanting to bring "life" to events, will actually pay people to play music and the musicians get to keep any tips they get too. Getting one of these gigs depends almost completely on your politicking abilities and has almost nothing to do with whether anyone actually wants to hear you, so you always get these ear-pain "musicians" doing this. He didn't seem to be getting much in the way of tips at all though. 

A block or two away from the guy, though, it was fine and I could see myself busking at Easy Foods just fine. Also, the ear-pain guy probably knocks off at 8 or 9, which is getting pretty late for a Bay Area town, but a dirty little secret is, some people like to be out until 10. Or even 11! 

I ended up having a near-beer at one of the "Irish" bars (Oh, if they made an alcohol-free Guinness!) and watching music videos for bands I never thought did videos, but they had. I pulled out the can of coffee I'd bought at Whole Foods so I had beer and a "coffee back". I just needed to rest as all the walking lately has me pretty sore. Eventually the place started to fill up so I used the loo and left. 

Now there was not much for me to do but go out and get on the light rail to go home. And there was a train waiting when I got to the station so that was handy. The system's changed so I had to change trains from the "orange line" to the "green line" which I did at Levi Stadium. There's a huge concert going on and the stadium is massive. I got in a little conversation with a guy about Beck, the opening act, who I'd seen a video of some years ago where he was busking in this restaurant but he'd set up in the back near the bathroom so all these people were going back and forth right by him, ignoring him. It might still be online and it's hilarious. 

The green line train came and a few of us got on. I was riding along kind of halfway noticing how quiet it was, when an old lady asked me how to know when she's at the River Oaks station, which she had to get off at, it's only her second time riding the train, etc. For some reason the little electronic bulletin board things weren't working, the voice announcements weren't either, and the driver was zooming by the stations so fast it was hard to read the signs on them. Also, pressing the stop requested thing didn't result in a beep. The lady was pretty worried so I used the "emergency" intercom thing to say to the driver, "We'd like to stop at River Oaks, thank you" and he did. At my stop, Karina, I just pressed the thing and the driver stopped. I figured if that didn't work, I'd use the intercom to ask him to stop at Airport Metro, which would work fine too. But the button worked. 

I got off and I had to use the loo, bad. I planned to go to Denny's and order something small, and they'd let me use the bathroom. But where there used to be an empty field was now a finished building with something called "H Bar" that looked like a sort of relaxation area with coffee and snacks, so I went around the corner and went right in. It was the lobby of a hotel, the Hyatt House. I went right past the front desk and used the bathroom which was great. I got a bag of cheddar cheese popcorn just to buy something, since I'd have spent a few dollars at Denny's anyway. That's really neat having that place by the light rail station now. 

My just being able to walk in like that is pure white or white-appearing privilege. Thanks, Dad! Mom, well, Tatars don't look East Asian; she would have looked right at home anywhere in a large swathe of the Eurasian continent. A brown babushka. A fairly pale one if she avoided the sun. But Dad's WASPy looks have served me ill and well, and here on the mainland, it's pretty much all well. I just look like I spend some time in an expensive tanning salon. I'm "white enough" here in California, and that and demeanor mean I can walk right into all kinds of places. What's funny is, in Hawaii where at least when I was there, being white was not an advantage, I could still walk into places a lot of other people can't, because who knows, I might be a wealthy tourist, or a Punahou kid or anything. No one would think that of a Micronesian. Yep, it's the "Micros" who get all the shit nowadays. 

I my usual route back here, took a look at the bountiful dumpster and decided it was worth coming back with the bike trailer, unloaded things here and went back out, didn't find much in it and what's worse, after I'd been looking a short while the noise started to excite some zombies that seem to live in the parking lot nearby, and they started growling and gibbering and making the usual zombie sounds. So I took off. 

A Mexican guy standing in front of his workshop said Hi and we got talking. "Where's the bike?" he started off. I told him about the mother of all flats and how I'd thought to use zip ties, and he told me about how his car was stolen right out on the road there and they got it back by Levi Stadium, trashed. And we talked about this and that and a friend, holding a tumbler with a few fingers of liquor, came over and joined in. I seem to have given an impression of being a hard worker. This makes me feel good because it means if they needed someone and I were so inclined, I'd probably get to try out working for one of them. 

So it was a mostly but not a completely fruitless day but I got the mailing and the bank visit done, and have survived another day. 

Attractive Nuisance - Gone

 Ken came over last night and I got my check and we had a good ol' talk about this and that. He seemed a lot less tired than he was on Monday night. He said on Monday he'd driven just about a "full tour" around the Bay Area getting various things. That'll do it. 

After he left, I got busy first cooking up a curry for dinner, then after eating I took the things Ken had brought over on Monday, apart. That was my work for the day although I'd also walked the bike trailer up to the bountiful dumpster and found some things that might be pretty good, I have them "ripening" upstairs until I get around to them. 

After spending hours taking stuff apart, I did about an hour practicing on the shinobue and flute headjoint, trying to figure out the "secret" of doing octaves. Maybe the secret is to keep stubbornly practicing. 

I went to sleep thinking I'd wake up around 2, and thus have time to either fix the bike or get walking. I did in fact wake up at 2:30 or so, then "rested my eyes" and woke up again at 5:30, too late to do anything. 

This is OK, though, because tomorrow is Friday and I can go to the bank then. 

I looked and the huge dumpster that the bums can't resist and dig through all night is gone. An "attractive nuisance" no longer there and now the bums will have to find something else to do. The scrap metal I put out at dawn sure disappeared quickly enough. 

I'm still corresponding with my friend back in Hawaii. He's in Puna. It's too bad I have no interest in living on the Big Island, because I could actually save up the money to buy a place nearby if I really wanted to. It turns out he grew up there too. I got the impression he'd come to Hawaii for college. He always seemed to be "mainland" but then, that's the burden of being 100% Caucasian there. People will always think you're "mainland". I, myself, back in 2003, even effectively accused a 100% Caucasian guy of being "mainland" and his family had been in Hawaii for 3-4 generations. Back to Kingdom days. 

I haven't heard from my aunt for a while, so I shot her a quick email asking how my maternal grandfather died. My understanding is he died pretty young, and although he was a shooting competitor, he died during a robbery of his men's wear store. Pasadena may have been becoming a bit rough even back then. It's a mordant subject, but I don't have a lot to talk with her about. There's not a lot in common with someone who grew up poor and started from nothing, and a mean old money-hoarder who'd rather cut off her hand than giving a starving person a sandwich. 

And the country sliding into Nazism proceeds apace. On the radio there was coverage of a race for Senator or something, with one candidate Jewish and the other a guy who rants about "Jews, pagans, atheists running the country". Yet another voice calling for pogroms. It won't be Jews this time, though, at least not at first. And it won't be Muslims or Hispanics. It'll be LGBT people, being both a minority and having no powerful countries backing them.  

If I could just get this headache to give it a rest! I tried coffee and aspirin and shots of Sriracha sauce and eating some chocolate and walnuts ... I finally got my ass going, walking with the bike trailer, to the bountiful dumpster at almost 10 at night. 

Bountiful it was not, plus I dropped the little flashlight I was using - a bike light that the latching mechanism had broken on, demoting it to being a small flashlight. I had a feeling this might happen since it was shaped like a slippery little bar of soap. It's shining through a crack in the bottom of the dumpster as I type. At least I got an onion and a tomato from the veggie dumpster. 

I walked back here, contemplating coming back out with another flashlight to check a couple dumpsters in the complex here, and also bringing out some reflective sheeting to put on this big metal pole that, although I'd put white sheeting on it, has been whacked a couple more times. I was just going to go into the karate school dumpster enclosure, noticing that oddly it was closed, when it opened and there was a zombie! Said zombie looked at the long pole with a nasty deck screw sticking out of it and my look of immediate hatred, and decided to say "Hi" and "Stay safe" while I looked at it icily and walked on. 

My soul is warmed by the thought of having a WWII type flame thrower and using it on zombies, watching their undead bodies dance their final dance! 

I checked the other dumpster - nothing, and got back in here. I'd just taken the bike trailer inside and was in the doorway to close the door when Crazy Chrissie drove by slowly, leering and saying something in Bum, in her rough, drug-damaged voice. I don't understand Bum, the language of bums, any more than an Eton boy could be expected to understand the strongest Scouse version of English. 

The beauty of Bum, as a language, is that it's an example of efficiency and brevity. If someone's speaking Bum, you can be pretty sure they're (a) begging for something, (b) offering to sell you something which could be drugs or their body or something they just stole or (c) challenging you to a fight. This the non-speaker of Bum can look at the mumbling entity confronting them and tell which is which by observing whether they're a streetworn whore or proffering a little bag of powder or have their hand out and a much-practiced hangdog look on their face, or are using aggressive body language. There is no other need to communicate in Bum, as speakers of it are not wont to discuss politics or remark on the beauty of a sunset etc. 

This I believe Crazy Chrissie was attempting to communicate a variety of (c). She's pissed off that I'm a decent person who lives in a decent place and does decent work. 

But I've digressed. I'd been reminded that once it's dark it's really not safe out there and I should have been inside already, everything buttoned up tight. Once it's past working hours, so past 5 or 6 in the evening, all the "normals" have gone home so the scumsuckers figure it's their place now. Those who work late either scurry to their cars when done or walk, as quickly and directly as they can, to the bus stop or light rail station. 

I still like my reflective tape/sheeting idea, and will plaster some on tomorrow, when it's daytime. 

I got reading on r/preppers on Reddit and someone's describing something I worry about myself, a dog attack. On his dog, of course, but the dog almost turned and attacked him after he'd stabbed it a couple of times. He concluded that he should have gone for the neck instead of hindquarters right off, and that he needs to up his knife game and thinks he might start carrying a Leatherman K2. So of course I had to look up the Leatherman K2 and it looks dandy but there are some people saying the steel's not that good and there are other nitpicks. 

So I ended up ordering the big yellow Victorinix rescue knife, which I wanted years ago and settled for buying this other rescue knife which I've not carried because it needs some filing down before it will be comfortable in the hand. But any rescue knife, I want to be something I'll carry every day even when I'm futzing around at the beach back in Hawaii and you can't be Victorinox for a knife you can futz around with in salt water, rinse off, give a spot of oil, and it'll be fine. But I probably need to up my own knife game, what with all the zombies around, and for some reason if something is yellow, it's perceived as not-dangerous. 

The other rescue knife, still in its box, will probably get sold along with a bunch of other things I plan to sell at the ham radio swap meet. A person is allowed one sale a year there without having to have a resale number, and I'd probably do what I did once before - get there the night before, sleep or not-sleep, maybe have a Red Bull or two, sell and then go home. Assuming we're not deep into WWIII, I'll have a nice load of knives and various gadgets. Or I could make things up into lots and sell on Craig's List but there's something to be said about taking one load, selling everything off, and riding home with a big wad of cash. 

Word to the wise: If there's something like a rescue knife you want, get that one rather than something that's second-best. 

I also ordered the basic shinobue Mejiro sells on Amazon, and that will get delivered to the house and then to me. The price of the thing keeps going up, so I figured I'd better get one while it's still possible at all. That's almost $200 with the shipping so I'll be 'way down into the negative for saving this week, but that should turn around once I'm busking again. Or if WWIII starts I guess I'll regret not spending all my money. 

RIP Saint Lovelock

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Lovelock

Kurt Vonnegut uses the term "Saint" for someone who acts decently in this indecent world. James Lovelock was certainly one of these and now he's gone. I remember discovering "The Ages Of Gaia", probably his best book on the theory that the Earth is a self-regulating system and full of good, clear, scientific thought in general. 

Science is certainly very enjoyable. It's took bad that probably 99% of people who'd be good scientists were born onto the wrong square in the race/class chessboard and will never get to pursue it. I loved chemistry but apparently it's even lower-paying then tech. 

There's a ton of Lovelock material online and he, himself, never embraced the woo-woo popularizations of his "Gaia theory". He simply proved that the Earth self-regulates the way a cell or simple organism does. And showed that human activity is pushing the Earth to the limit of it's self-regulating range of operation. 

I got 15 things listed last night and put in an hour or so practicing octaves on the shinobue. I'm not sure why this exercise is hard for me. I wonder if I'm hampered by a decade or more of habits from trumpet playing - it seems I tend to push too hard. At least one thing I observe is, playing in the fully assembled concert flute is pretty easy by comparison. Along with all of my other projects, I need to be capable of making at least my day-to-day food etc. money by busking before I leave here.

I woke up today at a bit after 5.  I'm headache-y and sore from all the walking lately. Just about first thing, I put the numbers back up on the front door and touched up some of the paint. I'll admit it looks pretty good, and it's also good that I have plenty of the paint left in case it needs a repaint or touch up when I leave in 2024. 

 

I walked it

 I was up around 5, and figured I had to get out of here by 6:30, assuming it will take an hour to walk to FedEx, to arrive at 7:30. They close at 8. I had coffee and walnuts and packed one large thing that sold overnight, that took the biggest size of car wheel box, which I just happened to have one of. 

It was a simple matter of, I could mess with the bike, and find out the tire is ruined or something, and not get to FedEx at all, or I could pack this one more thing and load up the trailer and walk it up there. So I walked it. 

The bike trailer is very hard to control with just a piece of strapping. It would be tons easier to pull with a handle like on a kids' toy wagon, rigid and with that kind of grip. The walk indeed took an hour, and I hung out a bit with the guys in FedEx, talking about whether we live in a simulation. I'm halfway to thinking we do. 

I got a couple of useful boxes for mailing and one for scrap metal behind the sandwich place, then on the way back stopped where a bag of stuff had literally fallen off the back of a truck and took a lot of stuff out of there - foam blocks and anti-static bags and such. 

There hadn't been much in the way of zombies on my way out, but by the time I was on my way back the sun was just about down and the zombies were coming out. And the thing about walking is, now I was moving at roughly the same speed. They shuffle along more slowly, but not that much more slowly. 

A zombie was maybe 200ft, ahead of me on the sidewalk, parked with its bike and looked young and fit, and thus hungry for brains and able to fight effectively for them. After packing up the stuff from the bag of stuff, the zombie hadn't moved and I figured it was waiting for the ambush. Zombies are not subtle. So I got out my pepper spray and had it in my hand, finger on the button, while I went cautiously around it. But it didn't move; it was staring at its phone and had been all along and continued to do so as I passed and was long past. Maybe the zombie had found something, perhaps a video of brain surgery, and was transfixed by the sight of that delicious brain. 

As I got to the bridge I had to pass under, I spotted another zombie ahead of me that was not transfixed by anything but was doing the usual idiotic zombie shamble, stopping very often to look around at things - I'm sure a brain infested with zombie virus and rotting, produces its share of hallucinations. 

My pace was somewhat faster than that of this zombie, as much as I tried to keep it ahead of me. I caught up at Junction Avenue, but lucked out in that the zombie turned left on the near side of the street and I turned left on the far, and then stopped at the tire place to see if any interesting packing materials were there. The zombie continued to shamble, stop, stare, shamble, stop, look around... 

We both proceeded South on Junction. I got to where there are zombie RVs and box trucks and cars and all sorts of improvised places to rest one's rotting bones, and side-tracked into the parking lot there whic enabled me to put distance between myself and the denizens of the RVs and cars etc. The zombie was now effectively following me, but it apparently got tangled up somewhere at that point and no longer followed, I noticed, checking up on things after I'd passed the RV's. 

I was still keeping my pepper spray handy and thought, "I'm safer now, but 'safer' is a relative term" and indeed, at the end of Junction, where it becomes a dead-end, I heard zombies fighting. A zombess screamed, "You're a bitch!!!" and "Thief! Stealing my stuff!" and got into a minivan with the passenger side so smashed in, it was amazing it was drive-able. The male got into a loud, black, old, SUV and also drove off. (For bonus points, this zombie in the black SUV has been driving around here all night, passing back and forth, parking, then taking off, then parking again.) 

I got back in here and finished the salami slices I'd bought at H Mart yesterday. Presently I got the bike trailer out again and my "getter stick" and walked up to the bountiful dumpster in which I found absolutely nothing and the same goes for the veggie dumpster. Except for a few clean plastic Target bags, that trip was a waste. 

I got back and watched the zombie with the noisy, older, black SUV have some kind of a confab in a limited palette here, with other bums in a grey, a white, and a red SUV or car. I think they are probably small-time drug dealers which would explain the fight earlier with the zombess, and that they have OK but not great cars. The serious drug dealers have beautiful cars that always look like they just came from the car wash. 

I do not care to repeat what I did today, taking things to FedEx "by hand". It's an hour each way and tiring. But the problem is that I have a lot of different things I have to do here.  A good number of them actually have a higher priority than fixing the bike. 

Today was a good introduction to how things will be when I've gone that final step from car to motorcycle to bicycle to merely being happy I've got a decent pair of shoes. 

As I walked in today, I thought, That's another reason shopping malls have died. People in the US are just not up to walking around for hours which is exactly what we did when we went to "the mall". 200 TV channels and computers are blamed, but I blame the modern sugar and carbohydrate based diet. Malls are still alive and well in Asia, where obesity is not yet normalized.

Outer Mongolia?

 The front door looks great - it'll look even better with the numbers back on and a new "NO SOLICITING" sign. 

I did an hour's practice last night, with the flute, all put together, and working out of the Why book. I've been telling myself that, at the end of the day, I'm tired and can't properly concentrate and should just do octave exercises. Those have helped as I can feel that my tone is stronger, but I need to keep working out of the book because I need to get to where I can play actual pieces and get out there busking. 

I woke up around 4, and turned the radio on but wasn't really listening until, while making coffee, I heard something about "virginity tests" and automatically thought it was here, in the US, in the South. I listened more closely and it turns out to be a thing in Outer Mongolia, and it's not even the gov't there doing it, but some overzealous officials deciding to do it on their own. They'll find the pedophile or pedophile ring behind it in due time. But I honestly thought it was something happening here in the US. That's how crazy things are getting. 

Ken thinks it will be the "Middle-Easterners" that would be this Nazi regime's Jews. "They'll start in on them", he said. He's also fond of remarking on what an "Aryan" appearing kid he was, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Basically he thinks the Nazis won't affect him. And they won't, only his wife, his kids, tons of his friends... 

I need to point out to Ken that it won't be them. If the Nazis pick on Muslims this time around, there are tons of Muslim nations and quite a few powerful ones, and Muslims are in the habit of rallying to each others' aid. No, they'll pick a group that doesn't have a nation or nations of its own, that's numerically small (there's no way things would have gone the way they did if Germany had been 15% Jewish the way the US is 15% black). Even "Liberals" are far too numerous; they'll simply be forced to knuckle under like the majority of Germans who were not ardent Hitler fans. Only about a third now, just as about a third of US'ians are Trumpists. 

No, it's already clear that it will be LGBT people. They're a fraction of a per cent of the US population, and have no powerful nations behind them. Both requirements are satisfied and they both have to be. Even now, monkeypox is being blamed on them, just as Jews were blamed for every plague the unwashed Europeans hosted ages ago. 

It's just a question of how bad things will be, and how soon.

I woke up at about 4 or 4:30 and had time for coffee and to pack a couple more things.  I pumped up the rear tire on my bike as it was a bit low, and headed out the usual time. I was able to toss out trash at the FedEx (the zombies hadn't taken the Daiso bag of trash but had just hidden it around the corner for some reason) and had just gotten across Old Oakland Road when I noticed the bike felt funny. The rear tire was going flat. 

I got the pump out and pumped, but the air was leaking out faster than I could pump it in. I realized now was the time to do what I'd planned if something like this happened. I've long kept a fistful of zip ties in the bike bag, because if I get a really bad flat, the tire will want to come off of the wheel and it will be next to impossible to keep it on, so the bike won't even be push-able, really. A hell of a situation if I was miles from home and now I was. I got out the zip ties and put them on, all around the wheel and unhooked the rear brake. Now I could at least push the bike along. 

I had time to get to the post office so I went up there and dropped off the post office packages, then pushed along, accompanied by the funny sound of the rear wheel, to H Mart where I locked the bike up and took the one FedEx package to the FedEx. I asked them about the plywood over one of their windows and they told me how it had happened early in the morning, someone had taken the top of the trash can out front and used that - it was lying amidst the broken glass when they came in in the morning. I told them about my flat and the zip ties, and how, if I can't get the bike going again by tomorrow, I'll hook a handle onto my bike trailer and just walk the large - but not heavy - boxes I have to ship, to them then. They said I could hook it to the back of my pants so it would trail behind me "like a parachute" and I said that's an idea; it'd be pretty funny. Funny guys, those guys. I left in a much better mood than I'd gone in with. 

I went into H Mart and used the loo and got some garlic, a package of salami slices, and a can of coffee. I had coffee and some of the salami outside, then got going on my bike-pushing walk again. I stopped off at Lowe's and got a new "No Soliciting" sign and some black paint, which had to be mixed for some reason. I got a "sample" for $6 but at least the sign was cheap. 

I pushed on back here, put the bike and things away, then went back out with a couple of Whole Foods bags and my "getter stick" and headed out to check on the bountiful dumpster. The guy who has the machine shop down at the end was there, and we got talking. His name's Jim, and we talked about how it really doesn't matter what you do for a living, as long as it's something that's steady or "constant" as he put it. I said I wish I'd known you have to "gamify" saving money when I was young. And to stay away from college and just get any ol' job and save save save that money. Nice guy though. 

I only got a glass stopper and some weird glass sculpture out of the bountiful dumpster, and a pepper, some beans, and other veggie odds and ends from the veggie dumpster. What's interesting is, the dumpster on the other side of the complex here had cans and jars and packages of food, so I've got a ton of stuff to donate from Kraft mac and cheese to Pnut butter, spaghetti sauce, some apples, etc. There was even a new bottle of Kewpie mayo, but it's the made in USA Kewpie, so I'll donate that too. 

I got back in here and was just sitting down to a bowl of two Cup O'Noodles shrimp flavor with scrambled eggs, raw onion, and butter, when Ken called. He was coming over. 

I ate hurriedly, and Ken came by and ate the hamburgers and fries he'd gotten on the way, and I fixed him up a Diet 7-Up, while  I finished my noodles. He had some things he brought in, most of which are things to take apart, and we talked about stuff. 

By the time he left it was a quarter to 1. I'll see him again on Wednesday which is good because he forgot to take the instrument case I took apart and bagged up for him as we talked. 

A good entrance

 I practiced last night on the flute headjoint and on the shinobue, and I dunno ... I can do octaves beautifully at first but then it gets hard. I'm not sure if it's just because I'm new to this, or I'm tightening up too much, or what. But it takes years to develop a good embouchure so ...

I read about half of Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s last book, Timequake, and went to sleep at almost 9AM. I woke up at almost 6. It's the weekend and I must have needed the sleep... 

I continued on my new practice of not eating first thing. I kind of ate; I had the last Keto Cup, along with some aspirin, with my coffee. Keto Cups are, in my opinion, awful. There are all these processed "keto" foods that seem to be some kind of plot against keto eating, as they're worse than just ... regular foods. But it may be personal opinion, as I loathe Diet Coke but for some reason like Coke Zero. 

I cleaned the front door and doorway with rubbing alcohol, then masked off the parts I don't want to paint with masking tape, then got to work painting the door/doorway. It needed a 2nd coat to really do it right, so after an hour or two I put a 2nd coat on. 

Unfortunately, I managed to lose one of the brads that are used to fasten the door numbers on, which I'd removed for the paint job, but found one to a picture hanger that will fit. I'll need to get a little black paint to re-paint them, though, as they're both dull and have a few chips. 

... And a new "No Soliciting" sign because when I pulled the masking tape off of the one that was on there, the letters came off too. 

At least when it's all put back together and Ken comes over, it will make a good impression. A good entrance, you might say. 

I've been nervous during all this painting because normally on a weekend, especially a Sunday, there are few zombies around. But that giant dumpster down at the other end of the parking lot is a real zombie magnet and the comings and goings of zombies are constant. One set of zombies came in a pickup truck and had an ill-behaved dog. They dug through the crap in the dumpster for a couple of hours, and at one point I think went into the truck for a fenanyl break, leaving the dog outside. It's a little cold outside, in the 60s, and the poor dog was running around and yipping, wanting to be let into the truck. 

This doesn't decrease my watchfulness, though, zombies often use a dog, or even a cat, to use to get into peoples' shops or homes. The way they do it is, let the dog or cat, being ill-trained, run into the house or shop. Now, their precious dog or cat is inside and Can they please come inside to get it? Now you've got zombies in your place and if you're smart you know it's a fight for your life now. They'll kill you and eat you and live in the place until the neighbors begin to wonder and then move on. This is why in a rational world, zombies would be rounded up and put into camps far away from normal people, to eat each other or whatever the hell they want to do - away from humans. 

I've had to keep the door open for the paint to dry, and that's meant being extra watchful. Even just now, I heard a sound and looked outside, and a zombess rode by on a (stolen) zombike, and croaked out something that sounded like "Get you" but it's hard to tell what zombie gibberings actually mean. If the local zombies have any memory and I'm not sure they do, they'll remember that I chased 'em out of here by encouraging the neighbors to shut off outside water taps, told them the zombies are only here to fight and steal (true) and complained to the cops and the city whenever they were doing something complaint-worthy (which was often). 

It'll almost serve that company right, when they come in tomorrow and see what a mess the zombies have made of their dumpster. They're moving out but are still responsible for any mess they leave, and the zombies have scattered trash and garbage all over around the dumpster. I say garbage because earlier, a large number of crows were going through the piles which means there are food scraps mixed in there.  

So the property owner will have to pay to have it cleaned, and the company that moved out will get the bill, I guess. 

I did more stuff and a bit past 2:30 in the morning, the zombie truck with its two zombies aboard and ill-behaved zombie dog, for some reason pulled up right across from my front door here, and stayed for 20 or 30 minutes. I peered out through the mail slot and could see the dog moving around but not much else. Did it mean something or nothing? Zombies do some really random shit. I've seen a zombie, in Arizona, pull up to the gas station I was hanging out at (it had a nice convenience store and I guess I was kind of buddies with one of the guys working there) buy a pack of cigarettes, light up one, set the pack on top of the gas pump, get back into its zombie muscle car and roar off. The stupid zombie didn't come back, either. If you're human, smoking is expensive and I guess if your head is filled with zombie virus infested rotting matter, it's even more so. 

To give an idea of how randomly the undead can behave, one of 'em actually took the bag of trash I had sitting out in front of the dumpster enclosure. It was a paper Daiso bag with handles, holding mostly rotten lettuce leaves and other vegetable trimmings, plus some random household stuff. Nothing with any names or addresses or so on, because of opsec of course. It was just ... trash. But some zombie took the damn thing. Maybe the zombess on the bike. I had the nasty things take bags of garbage before, really nasty stuff I didn't want to have inside here before I took it to the FedEx dumpster. Zombies like rotten stuff. 

In other news I put the rest of the shelves into the book case and in the process of going through my remaining box of books, found an old busking diary. It was from when I was playing a Getzen 390 trumpet, so this would have been far back into the Before Times, probably a bit before moving to this new building here. I was playing for tiny amounts of money. I guess at the time I was happy enough if I was making money at all, so if I made enough for a bottle or even for part of one, it was enough. Besides, playing for $5 after two hours was all I knew. 

 

Waikiki 7-11 practices Sharia law

 I not only washed the circuit boards last night (they were coated with dirt!) but washed my fan also, and got parts organized to list but did not list them. 

Upstairs, I secured my "new" shelves which now hold banker's boxes with clothing, to the pipe on the wall so at least a small earthquake won't cause it to immediately fall over. Also secured the bookshelf, using some little brackets we've got 1000s of, which turn out to be so perfect it will be fun showing Ken how I used them. 

It's funny that I have the place so clean and the bathroom floor waxed and all that, and Ken didn't even come in, for good reason, due to his cold or whatever it was. 

I also futzed around putting a couple of shelves in the book case. There are these little clips that click into holes, then the shelf goes on top. With the paint job, that bookshelf looks tons better. 

I played around on the shinobue a bit more, working on what is really going on when I switch from low to high octave. I guess it takes years to develop a really good embouchure on the flute and that's what I want to emphasize. Fingering is important also, but with all the typing I do my fingers are pretty fast and although my hands are small overall, I have wide palms and really good finger independence including pinkies so I'll be all right in that area. The main thing is embouchure, because it's good tone that really grabs people. Good tone also makes it a lot more fun to play. 

I went to bed at about 7AM and woke up around 3, decided to "rest my eyes" and woke up again at 5:30. I guess I needed the sleep. 

Last night, on YouTube, I'd seen a news article from good old Waikiki about a scuffle at a 7-11 there where one guy produced a sword and cut the other guy's hand off. Now, checking Reddit, it seems the sword-wielder was a 7-11 employee and I'm just about 99.9% certain the cause of the scuffle was that the victim was suspected of theft. 

So, Waikiki 7-11's practice Sharia law. U steal U get your hand cut off. 

Reddit also filled me in that there are tons of fights at the "laundry mat" nearby. Although if I use a laundromat back home I'm not likely to use that exact one and most are peaceful. I actually kind of like my hand-washing technique and in Hawaii I'd have less clothes to have to wash (there's no summer and winter wardrobe there) and I really like the "not spending quarters" and "not being around weirdos" aspects of it. 

I headed out of here at about 7:30. First stop was to drop off two bags of trash at a street trash can. Next I put 7, 1-lb bags of rice I'd bagged up last night, into the little free library in Japantown. Next a can of hot chipotle peppers and a jar of jalapeno slices went into the one on 6th, further down. Then, lastly, two jars of pipe tobacco I'd saved long ago, and a prescription bottle of some kind of pain killers I'd found, went into the one by the "Peace And Justice" center on 7th because there are tons of bums down there and bums likes those sorts of things. 

I rode over to Wal-Mart and got two six packs of diet 7-Up for 2.88 each, a can of corned beef for just under $6, and 4 cans of tuna in "extra virgin olive oil" and "lemon dill flavor" for just under $2 each. This was perfect, I figured, as it would come just under the $20 bill I had in my wallet. It turned out to come to over that, because of the CRV charge on the soda, so I put one can of tuna back - maybe I won't like that flavor anyway. 

I noticed when I went out to load up the bike, some yelling up on the corner and a police car go by. So I rode right out to the street to get a look at what was going on. What was going on was, a MAGA type guy right out of Central Casting had apparently decided the traffic light was "liberal" and had knocked it down. Of course his car was smashed up now, the guy probably had alcohol in his blood, yadda yadda but he sure showed that light a thing or two. I say MAGA type guy because he was overweight, Caucasian, wearing a T-shirt, bearded, and had a demeanor like, "How dare you arrest me, didn't you see that light shine red? Red is the color of Communism".

So I had about $1.40 left, and rode home thinking about going this and that place where they might have some thing that was $1 or so. San Jose is too small a town to support a McDonald's so something off the $1.25 menu was out. Both 7-11s have too many zombies around for me to feel safe going to them.

It was dead, dead, dead downtown but from the sirens I heard and lights I saw, it was not dead for crazies/criminals. I rode to Japantown and JT's had these little "macaroons" for $1 so I got a pistachio one of those. It didn't taste like pistachio at all, just sweetness. After eating that I headed back here. Along 10th there was a skinny zombie with a road bike, messing around with and then dragging a shopping cart alongside. I was sure to speed up as the nasty thing could catch me on a road bike, but fortunately the undead really treasure their shopping carts and that slows 'em right down. 

I actually had to get past another one, a zombie with a road-ish bike and some kind of shopping cart contraption, on Old Bayshore. As the nasty thing got going I rode as fast as I could past it, then ducked into the armored car place and squeaked back in here from there. 

So that was my day out. I can stay in tomorrow. 

Actually, I should mention that before heading out, I took the sprayer I'd found some weeks ago and decided to use it to spray down the area by the front door. The tip was plugged, and the part that screwed over the calibrated plug with just the right size hole in it was missing. So I just took one of those rubber things used to protect the ends of things and jammed it on there and pierced a hole in the end and it works fine now. And on my way back in today, I found a neat Rubbermaid step-stool that goes higher than the ones we have, that just had the "handle" part at the top broken. I just took some bamboo chopsticks I had, long ones for cooking that I've never used, and stuck them in there, then covered the clumsy clear tape wrapped around it with neat red electrical tape. It's super light, and being Rubbermaid means it's not junk. And I'm not that heavy so it's perfect for me. I'll show it off to Ken, and tell him he can take one of the ones we already have here, home.

I'll reiterate that in the year 2000 I had a car, in 2010 I had a motorcycle, in 2020 I had a bike, and if I make it to 2030 I'll feel pretty good if I have a decent pair of shoes - this last being one of many reasons to move back to Hawaii, as shoes are not nearly so important there. But I figure I'll always be able to fix things and invent ways to fix things and do things.

Quid's in

 By bed time last night, the laundry I'd hung up was dry and I'd not even had a fan blowing on it. That's how ideal a drying space the loft can be. 

I took a thing apart which gave me lots of neat parts to list but they'll all, circuit boards included, need to be washed with Windex then sprayed down with alcohol and allowed to dry. So I didn't list anything last night. 

I did my becoming-usual practice on the shinobue last night, trying to be aware of the little stream of air coming out of my mouth and what I'm doing with it. I'm trying to solve an essential problem early on, that of a good embouchure that will give a "mature" sound. I'm convinced that's what made the difference on trumpet and got me from making about $15 an hour to $30 or better; that I'd spent time practicing shakuhachi and practicing trumpet regularly, giving me a more resonant, mature, sound. People mostly don't give a shit what you're playing, it's *how* you're playing it. 

I was up in time to do a head to toe scrub down, and while I'd been using Windex in the past because if I splash it around it just evaporates, I don't think it was really doing the trick so I used Simple Green. That got me really clean. And I had clean clothes all ready to change into so I felt great as I headed out at my usual payday time. 

First thing, I took the canned goods and other foods I had to donate, and stuffed 'em all into the little free library in Japantown. That took care of that! Then I went to the post office and dropped off 7 packages, then I went over to the bank and did my deposit. I was only a nickel off in what I calculated I should have, and what the bank thinks I have. 

I went over to Whole Foods and got too much food again, carnitas and broccoli and since they didn't have any near-beer out, a soda water. I sat at a bench downstairs to eat, where a gal studying some books with a couple beers in front of her was already. I got talking, she's studying law, and gave me the 2nd beer. They'd been given to her by someone. I said my boss will like it since I don't drink any more. 

I went back in and spent a lot, because I re-upped most of my vitamins. That gets spendy. I also got things like chocolate and butter and walnuts, so it over $100. 

I went out to my bike with my haul and loaded it up. There was a BMX bike there with a jacket? tangled up tarp? wadded up on it and mud on the wheels so the rider had been riding along the river. A bum bike, in other words. And here came Mr. Bum, so I said, "Neat bike, looks good for exploring the trails" and offered him "a beer" but he said he was fine. 

Next was Dai Thanh and on the way over there was a shirtless, skinny, zombie on a corner, ranting about ... I dunno, UFOs or the Attorney General or some mixed-up crazy shit. I got the beer out and offered it, thinking this ought to be interesting or at least calm him down. "I don't drink", he said, and I left the beer on top of the traffic control box - some other bum will pick it up. 

I went over to Dai Thanh and got a bunch of things, like more coffee and 6 little cans of coconut milk. I'd used the kind that comes in little waxy cartons before, which are easy to open. These take a can opener but the flavor is really good. A little cheaper, too, I think. The place was super dead, though. There was one lady buying a week's worth of groceries, it seemed, and the guy ahead of me was buying a sprig of mint. Other than her, though, it seemed really un-busy and they only had one checker working. 

I went over to the Amazon place and got bubble mailers, and picked up my coffee filters and battery shipping warning stickers. Then of course to Nijiya for eggs, Black-Black gum, some scallops for scallop curry, and maybe another thing or two. 

I got back here and put stuff away. I totted up my buying and wow, I've reached my self-imposed limit so other than the $20 bill in my pocket, I want to try to not spend anything at all until next payday. 

I went out to check the bountiful dumpster and there was nothing, but I got a few tomatoes and a couple packages of Romaine lettuce from the veggie dumpster. I'd also, first, checked where I'd seen what looked like it might be a neat table set out by Galli Produce, but it was gone. Maybe I should have checked when I first saw it, because it might have actually been a rather nice one. But someone else got it. On my way back with the lettuce etc. I checked this other dumpster on the other side of the complex and this thing leaning up against it, that I thought might be the "core" of a car bumper (they're made of super firm black foam these days) turned out to be a snow board in, well, a snow board bag. And Sunday, my List Something On Craig's List Day, is coming up. 

I checked on Craig's List and people are selling their snow boards for $5. Yeah there's a helmet and gloves and goggles etc. in the kit too, but it looks like all that stuff is being nearly given away these days. So I put it out for the bums, along with a box of various chemicals and sprays and stuff, for the bums. I'll list something else on Sunday. Maybe even my fancy-schmancy trumpet. 

I keep practicing on the plastic shinobue because it's easy to just pick up and play with no fussing around. There's one sold by Mejiro for $140 or so that I'd really like to get (it's actual bamboo made by a "craftsman") but I want to hold off until I'm better on the plastic one and have also put the rest of the bindings on. I also want to remove the cap even if I have to drill it out, and put a wooden cap with a cork in there. I want a plastic shinobue I can show off. I've got a pretty bamboo-like texture on the outside and the one binding looks nice except I used white tape underneath so I need to remove it and put black tape underneath then a new binding. 

I noticed something today, that I just started my day on a cup of black coffee and that was better than eating. Yeah, I picked out too much food at Whole Foods but by that time, after dropping off things and doing my banking, I was ready to eat something. So instead of 3-4 oz. of nuts with my coffee, I'll just have coffee, and have my vitamins with food later. 

I did get a bag of raw walnuts but those will be for the occasional snack. I did get three different flavors of "keto cups" which are like peanut butter cups but supposedly 1g net carbs and flavors like almond, coconut, etc. Those were $3-something per package but I figure, might as well try 'em once.  I was thinking at one time of buying cocoa butter and using an ice cube tray to make uniform little cubes of it, to eat one with coffee each morning but I didn't see any cocoa butter or nibs at Whole Foods at all. But I don't think I need anything like that. 

This is hilarious: That dumpster that's full of stuff from the schlocky make-up and hair "products" place is a continual object of fascination for every bum in the neighborhood and they keep coming around and digging through it for hours, all night. I can't imagine what they could be finding other than really shitty office stuff and even shittier make-up like, I remember years ago a scandal where cheap lipstick was found to have lead in it. It's a real bumfest and if no one takes the snow board and chemicals overnight I'm gonna throw those things in the dumpster to give them something interesting to dig for. 

There were very few Nazis in charge of the Nuremburg trials

 Last night I listed 10 things, which took some repairs on some of them so it was a fair amount of work. I also moved things around in the loft and got the bookshelf put back up, installed some screws where they were missing on it, etc. 

Painting the loft has been a lot of work, and somewhat expensive. The latest expense: the charger for my electric toothbrush, without which it's just a paperweight. Luckily I have a few manual toothbrushes stashed away for the end times, and got one of those out. 

I did octaves practice on the shinobue and can get the lowest note even stronger now. I'm thinking I need to become much more aware of raising and lowering the little stream of air because that seems to be key in playing the lower vs. upper octave. I'd say it's equally that and getting the lip placed just right in relation to the air hole. Get it right and octaves are amazingly easy. Get it wrong and no amount of blowing will do it. 

I woke up at 4:30 which is about right considering my awake hours. 

The trials are on the radio on NPR, and before the actual trial footage, they aired the opinions of a few "man in the street" type people. One, a Republican obviously, said the trial was "unfair" because there were "very few Republicans" taking part. I'm sure there were doctrinaire Nazis who thought the Nuremberg trials were unfair because there were no Nazi judges. 

We've all fantasized about being in Germany when the Nazis could have been headed off; we've all fantasized about meeting a young Hitler and knowing to kill him. Well, we're in the same point in history right now. This is the trial after the Beer Hall Putsch, our chance to send a lot of people to the firing squad and that's not going to happen because we want to be "reasonable" and so on. 

There's a saying: You can vote your way into Fascism, but you have to shoot your way out. 

I got going my usual time with 9 packages. I took the other way around, since on the radio just before the trial coverage started, they said something about a sink hole that sounded like it might be right on my usual route. So I went around, did my drop-offs, and coming back noted no sink hole. According to the internet there was one some distance from here 3 days ago though. 

I didn't find anything in any of the dumpsters, veggie or otherwise. That's the way it goes sometimes. 

I got back here and the welding place was throwing out a lot of little bags with stickers on them that peel off easily, and the bags were maybe 5 mil, so really nice for small parts. I entertained myself peeling stickers off of these things for a while, then noticed there's a huge green dumpster, the kind with ladder steps up the side, down the parking lot near the front of the complex so I finally just grabbed the rest of the bags stickers on or not, and went over there and climbed up. It was just junk from this place that sold hair ties and glittery shit and artificial weaves and trash like that. So all low-grade packaging holding utter junque. There was a bum with a truck at the other end of the dumpster, dumping things *in* and hollering on and on about the dumpster being full. I ignored him and as Crazy Chrissie came trolling by in her bum-mobile, was sure to peer into it and give her a nasty look. She's got a new bungee cord to hold the trunk down though, fashionable! 

I got back in here and had a bowl of tuna salad and cleaned the office and the bathroom and finished the load of laundry I had soaking and that's dripping upstairs. 

I was having a cup of coffee when I heard a startling CRASH. It was a bum, who'd balanced a lot of metal on his bum-bike, and he'd dropped the pile right across from here in the parking lot. Mr. Bum marched, pissed off, toward the water tap a couple doors down, and I shut the door here and locked it, not wanting a pissed-off bum then deciding I owed him something. So when there was a knock on the door, I asked in a firm tone, "Who is it?" It was Ken. 

So Ken was feeling better, and he dropped off a check to cover last week and this, some mail, a couple of shipping boxes, and the package with the lacquer sticks I'd ordered (it's used on flute pads and also on the cork). He didn't want me to be exposed to his germs, but I said hanging out outside here is OK, so we talked a while, him sitting in the car and myself standing outside, with a nice breeze between us. 

We talked about the usual things, neat places we'd gone and how gambling had gone for them in Reno, and the cowboy-est, dive-y-est bars we'd been in, and such things and I gave him a vintage copy of "The Green Felt Jungle", a classic book about Las Vegas, for his daughter who now owns a house there. Socializing is a big part of my working for Ken and I wanted to make sure he got a dose of it. 

So now, as the Brits say, "Quid's in". And it looks like, over the last two weeks, I have saved in the bank just about $5. So I will have to think about my budget a bit. 

I noticed an interesting thing today. Since I woke up so late and wanted to pack more packages before heading out, I didn't eat anything before going out. I just had a cup of strong black coffee and a couple of aspirin. And my stomach was extremely calm and well-behaved while I went out making my rounds. I didn't feel hungry at all, and I didn't have to rush back here to use the bathroom, either. So I'm thinking I might do away with the rather expensive nuts I've been having along with my coffee. They all work out to about a dollar an ounce, so three or four ounces a day add up. 

I could still keep nuts around for a snack, but eating them habitually might not be best. If just a cup of black coffee leaves my stomach calm and non-hungry, then I'm all for it. 

I've also been going back to finding most of my veggies in the various veggie dumpsters. It's the thrill of the hunt, and of getting something for free. Best to keep with this trend.  

I've also cut down restaurant eating to just about zero. And I've discovered that if I just get 3-4 of the beef meatballs and a little greens and a near-beer at Whole Foods on payday, it comes in well under $10.

The big thing, though, is busking. Or rather, that I haven't been doing it. I need to learn a handful of songs and get out there.

Golf carts gone

Last night I listed 10 things on Ebay last night, but started a load of laundry, did the final painting on the bookshelf and its shelves which means tonight I can put it up, freeing up a ton of painted floor space. 

I woke up around 4, and finally, at a quarter to six, allowed myself a look outside and the golf carts are gone. Various bums were going around, so either whoever owns them got them inside and safe somewhere, or the bums got 'em. 

Ken called me today and said he got some kind of cold or something in Reno, and will come in tomorrow or Friday. I said he might want to make it quick, not a lot of sitting and talking, because  I don't want to catch it. But I'm thinking, we could hang around outside so if he's up for that (maybe with a hot cup of tea or two) that would be pretty safe. 

It's been cooling off at night but of course it's always 15 or 20 degrees warmer in here. I was explaining to Tom how traditional houses are in Hawaii, with lots of air flow. You'll never get cold, so the idea is to have air flow, or you end up with an oven. Come to think of it, my place in Waikiki had windows facing Manoa Valley, and wind from there would sweep right through my place if I opened the louvered windows on that side and opened my patio door. It was great! My Newport Beach place was like that too. I had a neighbor who cooked some kind of mackerel or something, I called it "fish warfare" and I'd open the front door and the patio door and the wind would whoosh the smell away in a minute or two. 

But this place is a closed box, and real cooling off requires opening the roll-up door and as I've found, that's not safe to do. 

Since I was all out of nuts (but not out of coffee!) I scrambled a couple of eggs with chives in them and ate that and had coffee, and packed a few packages that needed to go. My trip was pretty uneventful except I must have inhaled just a little hair off of one of those awful tree seeds that are all over, and had to have a terrible coughing fit. I pulled over by the 880 bridge and coughed and spat and got out the small bottle of Listerine I'd bought for just this reason, and was able to gargle enough of it to wash whatever it was away and calm my throat down a bit. It's the original kind so it contains not only ethyl or "drinking" alcohol but something called thymol, something else call methyl salycylate, and I guess whatever gives it that yellowish color. My point being it's not just the alcohol helping my throat but the other stuff too. 

I found lots of odds and ends on the way home, not just shipping stuff but weird stuff from the bountiful dumpster including some anti-seizure medicine I put out for the bums so there will be one, maybe more, really calm bum out there once one of them picks it up. 

Golf carts

 I woke up and the internet was down because of course it was. After some messing around (it seemed the neighbors' internet hotspots were all down too) I restarted my computer and it was back up. 

I packed the few things I could find easily, had already found and picked out boxes for, etc. and headed out. When I got to the post office I put the few small things in the chute, which is my normal practice. Although I was sure it wouldn't jam, my method is to put the small things like padded envelopes etc in first so if it jams, those things are safely inside. Then I can always put the larger things on the counter and their being larger means they're less likely to get lost. The chute jammed, of course, and I felt really smart as I took the one large box to the counter. 

I picked up some veggies at the dumpster behind H Mart and two packages of Korean cold noodles. So I headed right over to Tom's to give him one of the packages of noodles and some of the veggies, and we hung out and talked for a bit. He's repainting the front of his building, brick red. I asked him if, out of the cans of paint and stuff I gave him, if he's not going to use the gallon of grey paint, if I could have it back. But it doesn't seem the can I thought was grey, was in fact grey. The one I thought was it was white. But he handed me a small quart bottle of some paint that now that I think about it, I'd gotten mixed to match the paint on the front door here. So I guess I'm going to paint the front door this weekend. 

Tom and I hung out for a while, talking about this and that. He said, if I'm so antsy to get back to Hawaii, why not leave now? I said, unfortunately, there are a lot of reasons. One is that Ken's been a friend for years and I don't want to leave him in the lurch on short notice. Secondly, I don't want to make a move until I can get Social Security. Thirdly, since I've changed from trumpet to flute I need time to get up to speed on the flute. I need to save up money, too, because I want to be able to take it easy for as long as a year when I get back, Lastly, I said, I won't be allowed to travel until I get my papers in order. 

On this last, I said, I'd told myself I'd wait until this covid thing was over. But, I observed, while cases are back up, deaths are down and the medical system should have bounced back by now but it's not; it's gotten worse. And now monkeypox has joined in. Wait times for surgeries are super long now, and doctors and nurses are leaving the field. I've realized, I said to Tom, that things are not going to get "better". This, right now, is "better". Things are just going to get worse and worse. And it may take me a year or more to get my papers in order and thus I need to get working on it now. But that's another reason why I'm not leaving for Hawaii right away. 

After my visit with Tom I got back here and dropped things off, then went back out to the bountiful dumpster where I found one good thing, and a lot of cans and packages of food someone was dropping off. So I gathered some of that to donate. I'm only keeping a little can of peppers and a jar of other peppers for myself. 

When I'd gotten going today, someone has parked three golf carts in the parking lot, neatly in spaces, across from the shop. When I came in, there was a guy in a bum pickup truck (you can tell it's a bum truck because there were different colors of doors and body panels on it, obviously used for scavenging) and the guy asked me if they were mine or something and I said No, I don't know anything. And I really don't. So now the bum truck's been left parked in such a way as to keep anyone else from driving or towing any of the carts off, while its driver I guess, makes arrangements. 

The answer is more guns, obviously

 Another full night, last night. Put the 2nd coat of paint on the area I was working on up in the loft. Also on the bookshelf and shelves. Tonight I can flip that over and get the other side, and move things around to expose another area to paint up there. I've also got one can of paint really used up, so I can take it to the paint store and get more because I'm sure I'll need another gallon. I paid $60 a gallon, who knows what the stuff costs now. 

It's been in the news that someone went into a shopping mall food court with a long gun to shoot a bunch of people, killed three, but was in turn stopped by some young guy who was (legally under new laws) carrying his Glock on a date with his girlfriend. Who carries a gun on a date with a new squeeze? I guess he does, and responded two minutes after the bad guy started shooting. The young hero did a good job too; the bad guy was killed. 

Maybe that's the future for this shithole country though. Since we're bringing in laws stricter than Sharia law with regards to women's rights, and I'm sure we'll end up stricter than Sharia on a lot of other things in a few years, I guess it makes sense that everyone will go around armed. This is how it is out in "tribal" areas in Afghanistan and such places. Everyone goes around armed. 

This is why I see Big-5 applying for a license to sell pistols, and they have a lot more rifles like an "American Ranch" bolt rifle with a magazine feed prominently displayed. Also an Umarex (parent company of Walther) pepper ball defense pistol for sale. I looked that one up and the reviews are not good. Better to just carry pepper spray. 

It's sad that the new laws apply to Hawaii also and Hawaii does have its Trumpist element. Hawaii does *not* need more guns but it looks like it's going to get 'em. The only saving grace of Hawaii is it being majority Asian and it's as progressive and civilized as it is because of this. It's why I'm going to stake my future on the place - as opposed to here, people know each other and I have a network there where I have none here other than Ken's family. Plus life there is so much more affordable. 

I made my post office and FedEx run. Traffic was almost as bad as in the Before Times, and of course the chute was jammed so I had to pile my packages on the center counter. I got a small carrot and a very small daikon radish from the organic dumpster, but got some lettuce "butts" from the trash behind the restaurants, like Togo's, where I often pick out boxes. Essentially they take a head of Romaine lettuce and cut 25% off at the base and discard that. 

I checked the bountiful dumpster and there were only bags of shoe boxes and who cares about shoes? I got some merlitons from the veggie dumpster. 

I got back here and relaxed and moved some things around upstairs, and threw some boxes away, and had the place all neat and clean for when Ken was coming over, except he didn't. And his phone went right to voice mail. He probably got some combination of tired and too hot coming back from Reno. I guess he'll show up when he shows up. 

Working in tech, of course I get worried about whether I'll get paid. Ken not paying me last week doesn't help my worry. I guess this is why I'm so keen on getting ready to leave, even though the planned date is two years away. What if I have to leave sooner? 

I should mention I made a tiny breakthrough last night, practicing on the shinobue and on the flute headjoint for an hour. I'd been having real trouble doing the octaves exercise and I think it was due to tensing up too much to do the high octave. But I figured it out, somehow, and did it better than ever. 

I'm glad I got my flute when I did, too. I mean the good, new, ones from West Valley Music. Because I've checked now and their web page is down. My browser won't even go to it, seeing it as a scam site or "certificate not renewed" or something. As things break down, there will be more and more of this; you don't go to a web site for a place, you go there in person. And if you're not within a bike or bus or train ride, you don't go. At least things are, by comparison, super easy to get to on the island of Oahu. 

Boring hot Sunday

 Last night I moved more things around, allocated some stuff to put in the little free libraries, and did the first coat of paint on the first side (!) of the bookshelf as well as painted the corner of the loft; the one part with the most of that annoying railing to paint. Even at 6AM, when it's at its coolest, it's hot up there and I raise a sweat. 

I did a little practice on the shinobue, not enough of course but some. I realized something: If I'm working on high notes and want to switch easily between octaves, it's best to work on being able to blow not as hard but still get the high notes. I believe James Galway mentioned this in one of his books, that high notes automatically come out louder, and low notes quieter, so he'd practice the other way around -  he worked on loud low notes and quiet high notes. 

I left here at almost 7, with the bike loaded up with a bunch of containers of fideo pasta, two quart bottles of shoyu, and the book I'd just read. A dropped off pasta and the shoyu at the little free library on 6th in Japantown, a bunch of fideo on the other one further down 6th, the book in the one on 5th (that has the books-only sign) and the last of the pasta at the one in front of the Justice Center on 7th. 

Then I went to Lee's. The idea was, I'd pick up one of those cheap bags of croissants they often have near the end of the day. But they were out. But they were selling everything 2 for 1, and I told them I didn't need that much, just gimme this one skewer and a pork egg roll. That was $5 and I put the 40c or so I had after that into the tip jar. 

I ate at my usual place on the college campus. An older zombess who looked like before the zombie virus got her, may have been an upper middle class lady, pale and was once blonde no doubt, was wandering around carrying things in bags. When she wandered near, I asked her if she was hungry - I'd give her the egg roll. She said the was OK in upper middle class (in other words, clear, non "mumblemouth" English) so that was that; I didn't press the issue. Maybe I should carry an extra bottle of soda or something around... 

There were zero squirrels! The last time I was there, there were tons of them. Now not even one came around. Did predators get them? Or an extermination service? I'm no squirrel expert though. 

There was drumming that sounded like taiko so after eating I rode over by the music building to check it out and that's exactly what it was. I guess a class doing their "lab". It was pretty great to see. 

I rode around the area around Cafe Stritch and it was dead, dead, dead. I rode up 1st street and it was the same. And through Japantown and .... the same. Actually downtown "Good Karma", a vegetarian cafe/bar was open and doing fine, some comedy show had a line, and in J-town the shave ice place was doing a ton of business. 

But what bugs me is, someone painted over most of the panda wall. This was a wall with a neat painting along it of pandas doing various things like going to the panda restaurant and doing various panda things. I think it would be hilarious to do a mural in its place, with bums doing various bum things like shooting up, smoking crack, prostituting, having a knife fight, etc. 

As may be gathered from my giving away two quart bottles of shoyu, I'm going to start going through my "preps" and giving them away. Some of the stuff, like canned beef and tuna and so on, I can eat myself. Most of it will go to the little free libraries. I honestly think it's a good bet that things will hold together for the next couple of years. As an example, as Nazism 1.0 got going in Germany, it became physically dangerous to be a member of an out-group fairly early in, but food didn't become scarce until much later. 

 

Change is constant.

 After all the moving things around last night and all the other things, I didn't list anything and I didn't do any painting either. Instead I went to bed and read "A Time Of Miracles" by Bondeaux, a book about a kid in the Caucasus whose mother does the utmost to get him out and away and even gets him another nationality, to get him out of there. 

There are slight echoes of this in our being told, growing up, that we're tan because we're part Navajo Indian. The Navajos went from being just another bunch of "dirty Indians" to being quaint and idealized in the 1920s and 30s, to being actually heroic because of their work as code talkers in WWII. It was a cool reason to be tan. And a much better reason than because we're Lithuanian and not just Lithuanian but Tatar, a sort of "eh" group among Lithuanians. To give an idea of the lowly status of Lithuanians in the US early in the 20th century, the protagonists in Sinclair's "The Jungle" are Lithuanian. Well, imagine being a swarthy out-group even among that group. 

I woke up at about 5:30, and after coffee etc. I was out the door at 6:30. I stopped at Nijiya and got a can of Doutor coffee and $20 cash back. Then I cruised down to Wal-Mart, parking the bike at Big-5. I looked around in Big-5 by which I mean I ogled the guns'n'knives. Then went into Wal's. I needed diet soda and TP, but once I got looking around realized I also needed rubbing alcohol and Dawn too. And there were no 4-packs of TP; I had to buy a package of 12. I had $10 in my wallet already and it came to $29 and change. 

Money well spent though, and I rode back up to the area across from the ex Cafe Stritch. I figured I'd hang out and drink my coffee, and found a little table to sit at. There was a guy set up by the curb with a screen or something and a bunch of stuff so I thought he might be an artist and had a look. 

I ended up settling down there with him; he was playing a video game on an Xbox and holding the space by the curb for the taco truck that comes around later. He told me about his life. About restraining orders and mother dying and becoming homeless and being fired from the bar Paper Plane where he'd been a bouncer, and how he had all this irregular work. 

I asked him about the homeless guy with a dog and a cat who used to beg by Cafe Trieste, who I've not seen in a long time. He said he'd seen the guy just a few days ago so I guess he's still alive. He also told me the guy has a house and a van, so he's not really homeless. (Still, he probably either inherited the house or bought it many decades ago and has to maintain it and pay the property taxes and so on, so I don't regret the money I've given him.) 

I was going to hang around for the taco truck but it came out that it would not be around until 10, so I took off. St. James Park had some kind of city attempt to take the park back from the bums thing going on. They were going to show a movie, about a talking pig called Babe. There were quite a few families there. I dug out my change and got a taco from the truck for $3 and sat and ate. There were a couple of tables there but they were monopolized by a homeless ghoul-ess with a baby carriage full of crap. The taco was really good and at least it's an attempt to run the bums out of the park. It had been a bum-fest when I'd gone by earlier. 

I rode back here and unloaded and had two bags of trash to take to the FedEx dumpster, so I took off with those and partway there, here came Karen the security guard in her little truck who told me "You can't trespass in here" with a twang. I said, "OK" and kept riding. The word "trespass" has some meaning here, because if a person gets an actual citation for trespassing, they can be arrested if they're caught there again. On my way to the dumpster, here came a bum carrying some stuff hanging off his bike handlebars, heading in the direction Karen had gone. Good, I thought, she'll be busy with him. I pulled in behind the dumpster so my bike lights would not be visible and dumped my trash. 

Now I could not go back the way I came, nor could I take the other side of the parking lot because that's Karen's beat also. So I rode up Junction, around past Tom's place, and down Zanker and checked the bountiful dumpster - nothing new - and got a couple yellow bell peppers from the veggie dumpster. 

It's 10 degrees warmer than it was last night. And there are changes, always changes - the house that looks kind of like a synagogue is now a greyish blue instead of green. More store fronts are empty. 

When are the guys stepping up?

 I got 15 things ready to list last night but felt tired so I didn't list any of them. I packed a bunch of things, too. I also organized my clothes into the 6 banker's boxes that fit on the two shelves just fine. I realize now that I'll need three more for jackets, sweats, and shoes, making three more that will sit on top and I suppose the random things that used to occupy any flat surface in the loft will end up on shelves on the book case, once I have it painted and put together. 

I did the 2nd coat on the next strip" of the loft, so now I have a lot of painted area to move things onto. I also really need to do some laundry so I need to see if I can arrange the book shelf, laid down, to paint plus its shelves, and still have room for the drip pan so I can do a load of laundry. 

I'm listening to all this news on the radio about the fascists banning abortion, and I keep thinking, "Where are the guys?". I remember when Roe v. Wade was challenged in the 90s and there were a lot of guys saying they were glad women had abortion rights because for instance, a guy and his girlfriend want children but later, or a guy has sex with a gal who swears up and down she's on birth control but is not, etc. Also to hear guys talk, child support is a huge bugaboo. So where are they now? 

I went out with 12 packages and dropped them off, and did some shopping at H Mart, spending almost $40. Now I'd better not spend any more, because it means out of this pay-period I'll only be saving $70 and I dropped into the negative the last pay-period. 

I picked up a few goodies from the bountiful dumpster and also got a couple packages of romaine lettuce from the veggie dumpster. Also some lettuce stem type things from H Mart's "organic" dumpster I plan to put into curry. I got home and snacked on seaweed-flavored peanuts, my last bit of cheese and olives, and three romaine lettuce hearts. 

I re-arranged a lot of things up in the loft for my next paint session. I'll not only be painting the next section but I've got the book shelf and its shelves laid out on cardboard. It's very tall and unwieldy, and frankly not of the best quality but Ken brought it over and I think it's like this weird green table we have in the bathroom; his dad built it and Ken will never-ever be induced to say anything decisive about whether to keep it or not. Hence it must be kept. So at least it can get a new coat of paint and will look a lot better.

I also took a piece of wood we had around here and cut it into 4 shorter pieces, used super-strong double sided tape to glue them together making two spacer blocks, and put one in each end of the "new" plastic shelves I'd just gotten. For some reason, one of my inserts we letting one corner down and it did not look good. The way the shelves are made, my spacers clicked right in and it only took a few minutes to measure, mark, and saw the wood with one of my hand saws. 

I will probably mostly stay around here this weekend as there's a lot of painting to get done, plus I don't want to spend any more money and besides, until I can do some laundry I don't smell very good. 

It used to be that if I was *really* hard up for a clean shirt I'd just go to Muji's and get some new ones. But Muji's is gone. We've also lost the downtown Walgreens, the Safeway, the McDonald's, the good Thai place, Da Kao, Johnny Rockets, I think Dai Thanh has at most a year or two left, and so on. 

Population wise, San Jose California and the island of Oahu, Hawaii, are very close in population but Oahu has two Nijiya markets, Marukai, Don Quijote which is like an awesome Japanese K-Mart, the local, excellent, Foodland chain of markets (which I've actually worked for) real health food stores (worked for one) along with Whole Foods, just yadda yadda you name it. Muji has pulled out of the US entirely, but chances are pretty good the same T-shirts I used to buy there will be found in Don Quijote or whatever Holiday Mart's called this quarter-century. 

There's just something about being at least 2,500 miles from anywhere else; if you need it, it's there. This is why I plan to travel back there *very* stripped down. With as much as airlines charge for checked bags and considering that I'd not put anything very valuable in one, I'll probably just travel with one carry-on bag, as I can buy what little I'll need once I'm back there.

A nice normal Thursday

 Ken didn't some by last night. I'd put things away, cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed the office, and gotten everything ready for him to come by. When he didn't, I called him. "You forgot," he said, "I'm in Reno". He said he'll try to come by on Monday. I didn't forget; he'd said he'd come by Monday and it was a matter of which Monday. When he didn't come by last Monday, I figured he'd come by Tuesday or Wednesday. But it'll be next Monday. That's actually good because I'll be tons further along on the loft. 

I listed 10 things and actually pretty good ones, on Ebay, and put the first coat of paint on the next strip of floor and railing in the loft. It gets like a paint-drying oven in there during the day. 

I also messed around on the shinobue a bit, and can get the lowest note on it now. That's a challenge. I want to go ahead and order the Mejiro one but I want to get some progress done on this plastic cheapie first, before I spend almost $200 between it and shipping, on a better one. 

I didn't get that much sleep but I did get up in time to get out of here at about 20 after three. I waved as I rode by the bank and I'll find out next week if they saw me. 

I went around and did the same sort of things I'd do on a payday, including learning that if I get 4 beef meatballs and a near-beer at Whole Foods, it only comes to $6-something and will hold me for hours.

 While eating downstairs, I noticed a perfectly normal-looking lady, who might work in an office and is almost certainly someone's mom, digging cans out of the recycle trash can. So I dug out $2 and gave it to her, "Here's like 40 cans" and she said "Thank you". This is an example of the majority of the homeless and/or struggling, who don't look or smell are act (she said "Thank you") what we see as "homeless". This is most of us. 

If I ended up "street" well, first Tom's said "We'll always have a cot for you" so there's that. Plus I'd get a storage unit and it'd be a crash program in busking. The storage unit would be big enough to store a couple of bikes, a bike trailer, and my other stuff. This is actually good because the bigger ones are easier to get, and still don't cost that much. $250 a month gets a huge one. And it would be right across from Tom's because I've used that place off and on for years now.

I'd work right away on rigging up a shower for Tom and myself. I've thought up some ideas. I had a great setup in Gilroy. I'd built a deck for my little trailer, had a fence with grape vines on it and besides, there was no one around to see me showering outside. I got a dark-green hose and hung one of those hose-holders on the fence, and had a sprayer nozzle on the end of the hose. The sun heated the water in the hose and it came out HOT, hence a fine spray was great. A system at Tom's would be gravity-feed and it would still be thrifty on water because there's no running water there and you have to steal water from one of the taps on buildings - my favorite being right next door. So we'd not want to use more than a couple of gallons for a shower. 

After picking up bubble mailers at the Amazon place I want to Nijiya for a few things and Blondie was there - he's still working on Dune and hasn't started on Pau Hana yet. 

I realized that I was out of clean T-shirts, but still need to get more of the loft painted before I can do laundry. So I am very "inspired" to get it done. But I'll be able to do laundry this weekend because tonight I'll put a 2nd coat on what I did last night, and then my laundry area will be clear enough to set out my drip pan etc. 

I rode out to Willow Glen which is an interesting area to explore. It was something called "Ladies' Night Out" I overheard, and got to look around in one of the thrift stores. There were musicians out, and there seemed to be more foot traffic than usual. I went into the CVS there and got some "exam gloves" because I'd used up the little box of 4 pairs that I'd bought for $2 at Walmart. That paint really sticks, and gloves are the only way to go. I remember when I was a kid, helping my mom paint; we'd just pour some paint thinner into a can (paint was all oil-base in those days) and we'd scrub down with it. Mom also used gasoline to kill weeds ... those were very different days.