Goodbye, Dr. Evilkisser

 

Canceled: Kissinger and hopefully his idiot followers will have lost their source of evil ideas, at least for a while. 

After Ken had left felt very tired and this was the time I'd allocated for practice. Get the listings done, get packing done, foist the FedEx packages off on Ken, all went well. But now it was practice time and I was so tired, I was in bed just before midnight. 

I woke up at 9:30 or so. This is the perfect schedule, early enough to live like a normal person and late enough to fit with Ken's night-owl schedule. Ken doesn't stay here later than midnight these days, so even if he'd stayed until then, as soon as he was gone I'd just get the bedding out and go right to sleep. 

I just need to get it settled when practice is supposed to happen. 

I packed another 5-6 things and got out the door a bit after 1. Then it was onto the light rail with the usual freakazoids and off at St. James, to the post office to drop the packages off, when I walked over to the bank. I walked through San Pedro Square and it was super dead. There was some good-looking "tool" type guy in a suit with another guy, same, being filmed and interviewed, and that was the only thing going on there. So much for busking there in the middle of the day. 

After the bank I hopped on a bus to Whole Foods, and same, it wasn't very busy at all. I'm still not sure if there's a "lunch rush". 

I got some beef/mushroom meatloaf stuff and broccoli and a near-beer I barely drank any of, and chowed down. Gee, miles of walking and cold autumnal weather makes a person hungry, who knew? 

I got on a bus again to Scott street, where I first checked out Patel Brothers, which is a really neat Indian market. I only got a couple of things there but I'd gladly go back. 

Then I went into Target across the street and got the same model Omron blood pressure meter the people on Reddit on r/hypertension seem to favor. I'm pretty sure the one Ken provided me here is an Omron and about 20 years old, I'm not sure if it's accurate or not. Omron makes such good stuff I'd be inclined to say it's accurate but I just don't know. Also the cuff on the older one might be too big. So I'd decided to buy a new one to eliminate those factors. I also got a couple of thumb drives - I plan to scan tons of papers and with some of them, I'll keep the originals but with a lot of things I'll just put the scans on the thumb drives to take with me when I go home. 

That all done, I hopped on a bus back to the bike shop to get my bike. They'd put on a new chain, new derailleur, new gears on the rear wheel, and I think that was about it. It was a bit under $140 so no biggie. Whoever had test-rode is had put the seat up by an inch or two so after heading out the door I came right back in and the gal there lowered the seat to where it had been. 

It was really nice riding back, gliding along, instead of all the walking I've been doing. I stopped by Nijiya for a couple of things, mainly a couple of little packages of boiled scallops to make scallop curry tonight. 

 

Displacement theory

 If this bozo's sax is OK in Waikiki, my trumpet might be ....

 I got 10 things listed last night, although I was falling asleep in my chair, and had the trumpet out ready to practice but sleep won. But, maybe getting the nifty new gig bag which means I can go out busking this weekend, is enough for one day. 

I woke up around 9, maybe 9:30. Neat! I checked my blood pressure and it's still high at least according to the meter I have. Once it's the new year, I'm going to pay my dues at the Yu-Ai-Kai Center because they have things like blood pressure screenings. They've kept me on their email list, and they have a lot of neat things. Like they show movies, have cheap meals especially cheap for 65+ people, and have a very inexpensive series of Japanese classes held at the Akiyama Center. 

Plus kicking in my $60 for 2024 is a benefit to the local neighborhood and that's always good. 

I have come up with my Trumpet Displacement Theory which is merely that, if I spent an hour or more a day doing things that are "supposed" to be good, like exercises out of the Rubank book, this does a number of things, all of them bad. First, if I have the time and energy to play or practice for an hour a day, now I've spend that hour doing dull exercises. Secondly, I'm beginning to think the exercises have a stiffening effect on the chops and body in general. Flute taught me that. Lastly, it means that I'm not learning songs. Lastly, I'm not having fun. That's the worst of all. 

Instead I'm thinking the best way to go is to play songs and bits of songs and explore in that way, and play exercises only afterward as needed if they're a real help. I notice that classical/pro musicians tend to instead play snippets of actual pieces a lot. 

I realized I had plenty of time to list things, so I photo'd and listed the 10 things I had ready. It was a nice feeling, having that done.

Then I to work packing things, and was going along when I realized that walking to FedEx would take at least 2X as long as riding the bike, and thus I was already too late. But, if I get up early tomorrow, I can go pick up the bike and be back here in plenty of time to take the packages to FedEx with the trailer. Or I could just get Ken to take them for me. 

Ken came by, an hour earlier than usual. I got my check and we hung out and talked. He said he'd take the FedEx packages, so that's one less worry. 

New trumpet gig bag

 I probably woke up around 1 in the afternoon. 

Not only did I practice some trumpet, but I made the mistake of looking up "how to make a shell trumpet that can play a scale" on Google with the result that the first site I checked out gave me a weird virus thing that kept popping up this little window, it was annoying as hell. It turns out all I had to do was clear my browser data and that just required digging around in my browser's controls to find out where that was hidden - the online tutorials were all for Google Chrome which I don't use. They all do the same things, there are just different layouts. 

After that was gone, I was still not inclined to use my card online, so once I was awake and had a handle on things, I called West Valley Music about trumpet gig bags. It sounded like they had the one I don't want, but a number of others also, and they suggested I just come down there and I said that's a good idea.

I packed this one thing that has to go out today, and walked out to the light rail. I made what was probably not the best decision, in that I decided I'd get off at Santa Clara and get on a #22 bus which would drop me off right by the FedEx on the Alameda. 

I had to wait a while at the Santa Clara and 1st bus stop, while all kinds of buses that were not the #22 went by. Finally, a 64b I think it was, stopped and I told the driver I'm just going to get on for one stop - this because something like the World's Smelliest Bum was lingering around, dancing in front of the bus, just in generally stinking up the place. The guy reeked so much that even though it was a cool, breezy day, the stink was horrible. 

So I hopped on and the next stop was the one right in front of my bank. And no bum. It took a while for a #22 to show up but one did, and I got off 3-4 stops down at the FedEx and dropped the package off. 

Then I waited more, for another #22 to take to the music store. That went OK other than it just being a long ride of about an hour, and Lo and behold, because West Valley has lessons, they have a bathroom. 

It was the usual tag-teaming situation where the lady I'd talked to on the phone was not the same as the lady I dealt with, who was the nice Chinese gal who plays violin and piano. She got out the various cases, a couple of Protecs and a "Max" all of 'em big. Then one shaped a bit like a "torpedo" case that turned out to be a Protec that's not as Protec-tive as the ones I've typically used in the past. And are probably overkill, I'd decided. That case and a snake cost me $65 and the case has the usual excellent workmanship Protec is known for. 

I grabbed my case and headed back out for the bus, and a #22 showed up pretty quickly, nice on this cold night. It looked like I'd get to a meeting I wanted to make, on time. I got off at the meeting place and went in, and I was just the right amount of early as the meeting started at 7:30. I got some useful bits of information, and someone else there "is" a trumpet player as in they used to play, and really lit up when I described the situation at West Valley and how they have a lot of "pristine" instruments in stock right now. 

The meeting was done at 9, I got out of there at about a quarter after, and went over to Whole Foods thinking I'd get something to eat but there was nothing that appealed to me at all and I got a "triple latte" in a can that I'd had before. Very rich and creamy and has caffeine. 

I walked over to the Diridon light rail station hoping I hadn't missed the last train or something, and a train showed up right away. I tried the latte which foamed up like crazy so I had to kind of huff it in to keep it from making a mess. Pretty good though. 

I got off at my station and went to the gas station to see what they had. Their beef jerky was very expensive, but somehow I was able to get a couple of "Monster" Slim Jims for not much more than Walmart charges for them. The convenience store was full of prostitutes and "tough guys" buying 3-packs of micheladas, which is beer with tomato juice in it, kinda gross. 

The walk back here wasn't too bad, I think I'm getting used to walking a lot. 

Monday, monday....

 I got back in yesterday and around 8-9 in the evening Ken came over to drop off 27 microscope illuminators (gee, thanks, I think...) and some other stuff to list on Ebay and he had time to drink some hot tea and we talked a bit. 

Once he'd left I took the meat I'd bought and cut it up and portioned it out and put it in the freezer, then just had a can of "white anchovies" in olive oil and some cheese and cucumber slices for dinner. 

Then I got to work listing the 10 things I'd prepped in the morning. I was falling asleep in my chair and had to push myself to do so. I hit the sack at 12:30AM and was asleep pretty much immediately. 

My "new" trumpet hasn't come out of the case. The new Blessing 3C mouthpiece is still sitting untouched, in the trumpet case. My sudden romance with Adam Rapa continues, though. I was into him years ago but since then he's put a ton more material on YouTube and it's tons of stuff I want to try. 

I woke up around 10, by noon was packing things to ship, and left here around 2. The $2 garage sale special Costco backpack turned out to be really handy, as I was able to put heavier things in it, as well as a sweatshirt and hat, some wet wipes, etc. 

I walked out to the light rail station and the train came in a few minutes. I ended up a in big conversation with a gal who'd been at the station with me and 2-3 other members of the underclass. Since they were the underclass, absolutely nothing was talked about that's even worth noting. 

I got off at St. James and walked over to the post office and dropped my packages off, and got on the train going the other way to Japantown. I walked up to Nijiya and got a couple of the large carrots that are used in curry, a couple boiled eggs, a small package of chicken karaage, and a can of coffee. By now the sun was starting to go down and it was cold outside, so I got the sweatshirt out and put it on, and ate and drank and people-watched at one of the tables outside. 

I walked back to the train station and rode (another episode of the Weird People Show) up to Tasman where I had to get off the "blue" train and get on a "green" one to go one more station to Baypointe, where I got off to get on the "orange" train to Hostetter. 

Then I walked over to Dai Thanh Market and got a bunch of things. Mainly a can of chicory coffee and a big bag of frozen shrimp but a few other things too. 

Then back on the train, got on a "blue" train at Baypointe and rode back to my "home" station and walked back in here. Now I was glad I'd brought a hat too, because it's pretty darned cold out there. 

I got back in here and sorted out the papers from today's packing session and did a "burn" which may have been a mistake. I prefer to burn papers when it's not quite dark, because once it's full-on dark the flame is a real zombie attractant. Sure enough, I'd lit the papers and a nice flame was going and I walked back in here and then heard a noise - a zombie on a bike was checking out the neat charcoal burner thing, with burning papers inside. 

I closed the door quickly, thinking Well, I'll have to buy a new burner now... then realized if the zombie shook the thing out to take off with the burner, there might be unburned papers which I'd better go out and get. I went back out and the zombie was gone. I took a couple of pieces of trash over to a box by the trash enclosure and the damned zombie was back now. I handed it a can of (made in China therefore questionable) smoked oysters I'd been tossing out, saying they're like smoked clams but taste better, then went over and got the burner with embers in it now, and took it back inside here. The zombie was saying now, "Hey mister.... Hey mister..." no doubt to beg for something and I didn't say a thing just went inside here, closed the door, and buttoned up for the night. Goddamn zombies, I hate the things. 

The charcoal burner had spilled surprisingly little ash on the floor as  I hustled it from the front door to the sink in the bathroom where I let it finish burning then washed the ashes down the drain. 

Dinner was what I call "shrimp boil" which means boiling some vegetables then when they're basically done, dumping in some "Louisiana Shrimp Boil" I got a bag of ages ago (it's lasting me forever) and shrimp, and as soon as the shrimp look barely done, putting that in a bowl with a good amount of butter and powdered garlic. The "boil" water then goes down the drain as the stuff's to boil things in, not a soup. 

I got 10 things ready to list, but then decided to call it quits. Except I didn't, because I got the new trumpet out. This thing really is very close to new, and I can't find a dent or ding on it anywhere. There was a big piece of fuzz or something in the leadpipe though and since I don't have a pull-through or a snake, I improvised using some gun cleaning stuff I had. I remembered that that's where I'd left off, deciding that there are better cleaning tools in a cheapo gun cleaning kit than you overpay for in a music store. 

I played a bunch of little things, some Christmas songs, with the intent to do some Christmas song busking for December, and also to do the things Adam Rapa says to do, low mouthpiece pressure, keep shoulders back, etc. 

What I did *not* do is a lot of the stupid drills I was getting all wound up in doing, before. Those were probably hurting more than helping, and as an argument towards this, when I was going to play flute I got into doing octave exercises on the headjoint along and it didn't take long for me to get so stiffened up that I was not able to do them. Adam Rapa seems to do either musical things or the kind of exercises that are not found in any book, like really extreme lip slurs, which are easy if you are following his advice. 

The conclusion is that the new trumpet plays fine, and I think I got a deal because the last time I bought a student trumpet from West Valley Music, it had been "loved" in that it had little dings everywhere, and it had cost just as much. The lady who owns the place would have charged me quite a bit more if she'd been there, but instead it was the nice Chinese gal. 

So I have a lot nicer, newer version of the same trumpet I did tons of busking with.

A/B testing

 I went to sleep, good and tired, at midnight. I'd watched one episode of the 1990s movie "The Stand" which was actually kind of good. I mean it's Stephen King, not fine literature here. 

I also did some A/B testing between my regular and "enhanced" Shakuhachi Yuu. The regular one, with the wood stain outside and painted red inside, doesn't just look like a hunk of plastic these days. The idea being, of course, that with it looking at least a bit like a bamboo flute, I'd go out busking with it. I was planning to put some bindings on it also - not necessary at all but for decoration. 

My conclusion is that I like the "enhanced" one a lot better and I don't think the regular one was harmed much by my painting the bore, but that they're very different from each other and it's hard to go from one to the other. And I would not go busking with the one I decorated to go busking with. 

I'm only taking ONE with me to Hawaii and it's not going to be the un-enhanced one. I actually want to buy this carbon fiber one made/endorsed by Daisuke Kaminaga which is about $200, apparently better than the Yuu, and "the closest thing to an Aireed-X without the price". But I want to hold off until I'm back in Hawaii. My little 28-liter backpack has to hold everything I take with me, after all. 

(And I just read something about Alaska Airlines, the one I plan to fly with, being described as "Hunger Games for carry-on baggage". This seems to apply to overhead bins, as the space under one's seat is still pretty much one's property. But at least I'll have 3 flutes in the bag and will be a Musician complete with union card so I think I can get by just fine. Plus I'm not taking a trumpet with me, even I'm to be a trumpet player who plays a bit of shakuhachi for the breathing exercise. I'll either leave my trumpet here for Ken to mail to me once I'm settled in, or I'll sell it and just get another when I'm back in Hawaii.)

I woke up around 7, and checked my blood pressure. Still high but the lowest reading so far. 

The thing now is to figure out how best to order my day as a person who's back on a normal schedule, up at 7 or 8 in the morning and doing their work during the day. 

By noon I'd prepared 10 things to list on Ebay and was heading out the door with one box to go to FedEx that wasn't too large to easily carry. The walk was pretty pleasant, I saw some mushrooms and general Nature stuff and found 4 packages of "Airheads" candy which is gummy strips. I figured Tom would appreciate them - $8 or $10 worth of candy. 

When I walked past Tom's, though, his new truck wasn't there so I kept going and left the Airheads by the little trail that homeless people use to go to their camps along Coyote Creek. 

I went to Ross first and found two T-shirts, then to Sprouts and got my macadamia nuts. Then I went over to FedEx and dropped the box off, and got beef and pork and veggies and stuff at H-Mart. Then on my way back I got some eggs and a can each of sardines and "white" anchovies at Sprouts again. 

The walk back was fine but those bags of groceries got pretty heavy. I remembered now how I'd have my messenger bag and put the heavy things in it, then any hand-carried bags would be made as light as possible. I think tomorrow I'll use the neat CostCo backpack I'd picked up at that garage sale for $2, that I thought I might use if I had jury duty. 

On the way back I looked at Tom's place again .... truck still gone but there was Tom. I turned and walked over, calling out to him "Where's your truck?"  We hung out and talked and fed peanuts to the crows and eventually it came out that he'd gone to Reno, to a place called Circus Circus, to see the trapeze act but then been too late to see it, so he'd just spent the night and taken his truck to a place to have a camper put on and then the truck ... died. It's been close to two weeks now, and they still haven't found the problem. 

So Tom got a rental car and came back here, and when his truck is done he'll rent a car again and go get it. Also because of befriending James and thus taking on James' blood feud with that one business owner, making it now James' and Tom's feud, Tom now has to have an architect inspect and sign off on things that have been done to his building. 

While we sat and talked, periodically, some different instance of bum life went by. A guy with another guy on the back. A couple riding close to each other, bickering. Just assorted scraggly individuals, and eventually James, on a bike, riding with another guy on a bike. James called out that his chain was too short, to Tom. Tom said his grinder isn't working, and I said you really need a special tool, to take it to a bike shop like Bike Express on 4th and William. I mentioned this shop because they're likely to charge little to nothing. The pair rode on. 

Not long after this, a minivan pulled up and Tom had a customer, for some wood and maybe some shelves. So I set off for the rest of my walk home. 

I got a couple heads of lettuce from the veggie dumpster and got back here. Whew!

Recovery day

 Today's a recovery day I guess. It was all I could do to stay awake when  I got back last night and I just had some cheese and went to bed around 10:30. 

I woke up at 8, which is the time I'd told myself I wanted to get up. Now as I write I'm sleepy but I know that's a trap: If I take a nap now, I'll wake up in the early evening and want to stay up all night. I need to get away from the night-owl schedule as it's not natural and it sure won't fly back in Hawaii where people get up early. 

A day or two ago I'd gotten one of the bathroom scales we have around here and put some batteries in it and weighed myself. I'm 20 lbs lighter than I thought I was. I *thought* I'd lost weight but didn't realize how much progress I'd made. 

I mention this because yesterday I walked to/from Fedex, that's 3 miles each way so that's 6 miles, then back out to the light rail station that's another mile so that makes it 7, and let's call it another mile with all the other walking around so that brings it up to 8. I'm tired today but before I lost weight I'd have been sore too. 

What a wonderful "Black Friday"

 I stayed up all night, listed 15 things, and made plans. I'd *walk* my packages to FedEx, then take the bike on the light rail to the bike shop. This depended on everything being open, so I made up little cards with the place names, normal hours, then a place to write in "abnormal" hours, and their phone numbers. As each place was due to be open, I called and in all cases they were. Neat. 

I left here at about 9:30 in the morning having packed a number of other large items to go by FedEx. I felt the bike + trailer was a bit more "natural" to push than towing the trailer alone, which requires twisting around in an odd way, plus I could carry more with the bike. 

It went OK. It was very clear, beautiful blue sky, and cold. I saw a turkey vulture sunning itself to get warmed up for the day. I dropped the things off at FedEx, picked up a couple packages of fresh basil I may or may not use behind H Mart, and went by the Taiwanese place but it was closed. Two very disappointed Taiwanese ladies were hanging around out front and we all decided they were Just Plain Closed today. 

I actually found packing stuff, a couple big pieces of foam and I filled a bag with bubble wrap etc at the laptop repair place. 

I got back in here, and put the trailer away, and put the bike inside to work on it, the delicate task of removing the saddlebags, which normally slide right off of the rack, but I use a bolt to make them theft-resistant at least. I'd tried fiddling around with the messed up dereilleur some more and had broken off gear teeth end up in my hand so this was definitely above my skill level. 

Done messing around with the bike, I gave myself a much-needed haircut and a bath, ditto. The bath was neat because I got to verify that the artificial "burlap" used in those large bags of onions, makes a great scrubber. Each bag yields two of them, and they can be discarded when done. 

I got into clean clothes and after having some nuts and coffee, started out again. This time no trailer, no saddlebags, and I only had to walk up to the light rail. And the trains weren't very busy today. I got on a "blue line" train so I got off at Convention Center and got on a "green line" train and got off at Diridon Station. Then it was just a matter of walking the bike over to the bike shop. 

The guy there said Yep, this is gonna need some work. New dereilleur and quite possibly a new chain and probably some sprockets. It will probably cost me a hundred, or a hundred and a half. And they'll have the bike until Thursday anyway. The shop actually seems more cheerful since it changed from La Dolce Velo to Upshift, and I asked the guy if he liked the new management and he said he does. This is good to hear. 

Now I walked across the street and hopped on a bus to my bank, put my pay check in, only off by 30c or so, then got on a bus headed back the way I'd come, but I stayed on up to Mountain View and got off at the music store. 

I'd been eyeing a listing they had on their web page, of their consignments. They'd had a Yamaha 200AD trumpet on there for a while, and for $200, then it was raised to $250. A while back I'd been selling a trumpet (with no success) to a guy and his son, and the son had a Yamaha 200AD and I'd handled it and thought it was a pretty neat horn. 

So, a 200AD for $250 might be a good deal if it's not a dinged and dented and "loved" horn like the last student horn I'd bought there. So I was there to look at it. The lady who owns the place wasn't there and I was waited on by a very nice and helpful Chinese gal. She checked the consignment white board and said there's no Yamaha 200AD on consignment "But let me check, we should have some". 

She brought out a 2320, said Sorry it's a different horn, in a nice case and case and horn very close to new. She said they'd bought out a music store and this was one of their rentals. This was a classic case of a parent renting a horn for their kid, and the kid barely taking it out of the case. But this gem was not $250. It was $400. Still stores are asking double that or more for a 2320 in decent condition at all.... 

So now I have a trumpet again. I also got a K&L stand, a Blessing 3C mouthpiece and a mouthpiece brush. It totaled $510, or in other terms, about 2-1/2 good busking weekends. 

I have been doing a lot of thinking about music lately. I have had a tendency to get all wound up in doing rote exercises and this seems to result in a little progress and a lot of "stiffness" and frustration. I've come around to thinking that Yes, there are exercises that are useful. But almost all of one's practice should be things that are enjoyable. 

The shakuhachi club got me around to this. Except for the warm-up, we've all been doing songs. This has made me loosen up and do a lot more good old noodling around. 

I also rediscovered Adam Rapa a couple of nights ago. I'd watched a bunch of videos by him years ago but he's got a lot of new ones out and I think he's gotten better at explaining how he does things. This is a guy who's been playing since he was 10 or so, been in marching bands and was basically raised as a trumpet player, but his thing, other than making very high-end trumpets, is figuring out exactly how to make high notes easy and sharing what he knows. He does a lot of neat little exercises that I really want to try and you can't try 'em without a trumpet. 

So I didn't stop for groceries or anything because I had this trumpet case to carry, and just took the bus from where the music store is, to Diridon Station then on the light rail to the station closest to here and walked in. It was cold out there - according to my computer it's 41F out there right now. 

I got in at about 8:30. I'd done a ton of walking, plus had some pretty fun conversations with various people so that was good too.

The noblest way to die

 I'm starting this post with some Truth. 

Yesterday a Noble American ended his life in the best possible, most American way, by driving his car to the "Rainbow Bridge" border crossing with Canada, flooring it, getting the damned thing airborne and not just a little, and crashing into a guard kiosk or something and dying in a massive ball of flame. For extra points, his passenger died also. 

This is an example of someone dying doing something they loved.  

It was bad enough, it was initially suspected to be an act of terrorism. Once cooler heads prevailed, it was revealed to indeed be an act of terrorism, but the OK kind. 

In the US, it's like living in a low-medium level of warfare, where being killed or at least injured in car accidents is completely normalized.  

I woke up around 5 or so, had practiced last night, mainly working out songs which in all fairness is easier on the shakuhachi than on the trumpet, even if the sound isn't as clear. 

My headache was giving me grief and I thought I'd gotten rid of the thing by going "low carb" in my eating and dropping some weight. I haven't weighed myself but I know I've dropped some because of my appearance. I'm also not getting swollen lower legs like I used to. 

So  I would say my health has been on the upswing, but as I've finally gotten around to filling the blood pressure meter with batteries and using it, I seem to have high blood pressure. Was it higher before, when I was fatter and having more swelling of my lower legs? 

I have "stage II" high blood pressure, based on the readings I've taken yesterday and today. Was it worse before? Without lots of data points I won't be able to determine the trend. 

I had my coffee (I might have to quit that) and nuts and thought about things to do, if anything. I finally decided at 9:30PM that I'd do something that's been in the back of my mind for a long time, to go up to the casino and try the Thursday prime rib dinner for $20. 

So I hopped on my bike and as I'd just rounded the curve that I guess denotes where Bayshore magically becomes Zanker, my pedaling ground to a sudden halt and it sounded like I'd run over maybe a piece of a shopping cart. I got off the bike and got the flashlight out and it was one of those little flat like they use to show where a water line runs, consisting of the flag of course and a piece of wire not much thinning than a bicycle spoke. That had gotten all tangled up in the dereilleur and gears, and the bike would roll but could not be pedaled at all.

I walked it back, and got out a large Channel Lok pliers and tried to straighten it out and it's not going to be that easy. So right now I have a bike that rolls but can't be pedaled. 

I still have 5 boxes that have to go to FedEx, making a pretty heavy load. Tomorrow's "Black Friday" and I have no idea if my bank will be open, or the bike shop, or anything. Thanksgiving holiday is one where normally, I just assume everything is closed for the full 4 days. Instead I'll have to get the packages to FedEx somehow, plus the sooner I can get the bike into the shop the sooner it can get fixed so I'll have to call the bike shop and see if they're open first, then walk the bike out to the light rail which will take me to Diridon Station then I can walk it over, then hop the bus over to the bank (have to call them too to see if they're open) and deposit my pay check, then get back home. 

This means I'll be bike-less over the weekend too. Lots of walking and public transport. At least public transport is an option and I can take my bike on the light rail. At least I have plenty of food stocked up here so I don't have to go to any restaurants. At least I have a cash-stash because working in tech as I do, I never know if I'm going to have a dry spell of not being paid for a while. 

Thanksgiving Eve

 I was up all night packing things and then did quite a bit of practice, not just long tones but messing around with songs and bits of music. Before hitting the sack I thought about dashing out with the stuff I'd packed so I'd have it done once and for all, then I could sleep all I like. 

I didn't do that, but instead went to sleep because sleep is good, right? And woke up at about 10 minutes to 6. I had to be out the door at 6. It only took me about 15 minutes to get out of here, with a good heavy load. One of the things is a big HP power supply that I had to use a box for that I'd had in the loft for years with the top cut off and lots of smaller boxes and stuff in it. I'd taken this and gone through the stuff in it, and near it, put a bunch of stuff out for people to pick up, measured and cut down this box, and packed the power supply. 

So it was a good load. And I got to the post office just fine. The chute was jammed of course but there was one of those white plastic bins right there so I just put my packages in it and put that on the counter with tons of other packages other people had not been able to put into the chute. 

I rode to H Mart and left the bike out front - load and all - and went in and got a package of cheese and a cucumber. I'd been 7 cents short and had to dash out to the bike to get my change bag; I should have brought it in with me. 

FedEx was closed. It turned out they'd closed at 6. So I had to ride back with my heavy load of 5 Fedex boxes. They're going out Friday I guess. I did my usual route for finding packing stuff and found a few things, and coming back along Bayshore, thought maybe I was getting a flat tire as the bike felt very slow and heavy. It was just me, the tires were fine. 

I got back in here, took the stuff I'd put out before and put it in the salt company's dumpster, came in here and put things away, put my bedding away and generally got the chaos under control, and was just settling down to some coffee and macadamia nuts when Ken came by. He was quite a bit early. 

He had tons of stuff to unload, I got my check and we talked for our usual hour and a half or so, and I went ahead and finished my nuts and coffee while we talked. We always find interesting things to talk about, so at least there's that. 

When he finally left I still felt like hell and my headache was bad. I'd taken some hot sauce before Ken came, and while he was there chewed up a couple of aspirin and swallowed those with some coffee. I even observed to Ken that I should have wised up and gotten chicken or even some food at McDonald's and eaten before I even came back here. 

Once Ken was gone, I hopped on the bike and rode up to the casino. I changed the $100 bill I took with me to $20's, and one of them got me the "Vietnamese pork chop" dinner and a diet Red Bull. It was partly a matter of getting some food and partly just getting away from here for a bit. 

Quick night time zombie run

 I stayed up all night doing stuff, putting things away, taking things out to ship, etc. and I didn't even get everything put away. I listed 10 things so that was good. 

I told myself that since I got some things out yesterday, I'd not worry so much about waking up in time to make the post office today. 

I practiced too, long tones and figured out "Amazing Grace" works pretty well if  I start on Ri. Plus there's a way to play it that way, then play it again an interval up, that sounds good. 

I woke up around 4, lay in bed until 4:30 or 5, and finally decided to get out of here at 6 not for the post office but for Nijiya so I could get rid of a bag of trash on the way, pick up some eggs, etc. So I took off to do that and wow, the traffic out there was crazy. 

I went and got my things and had a laugh with the guys about how traffic resembled this one episode of South Park where it's some holiday and everyone gets in their cars and drives around and crashes into each other.    Nijiya was busy too, which is why I decided to get eggs today because although they're open Thanksgiving Day, they're likely to be out of them at least in my experience. 

Traffic was bad on the way back too, plus there were plenty of zombies out there. Maybe the increased traffic has them riled up. I had to speed up a lot and veer really wide around one staggering around on the road on Bayshore under the bridge. Damned thing might have got me if it was more coordinated. 

I got back in here and vacuumed the office. I'd given the bathroom the standard cleaning last night, all this because I half expect Ken to come by early this week. 

Red paint

 I listed 10 things last night and practiced a little, and mainly I took my plain ol' Shakuhachi Yuu and the can of red paint I'd bought for this purpose and painted the inside. Painting the inside without painting the outside too is a bit of a challenge but I actually did it. 

Now I can let the thing dry for a couple of days and then put my "enhanced" one back on standby and play this one. The idea is, if I'm going to go out busking with the thing, it ought to look at least somewhat like a bamboo one. 

I had time to pack 10 things that were small enough for me not to need the bike trailer, and got out of here the usual time. The drop-offs went fine, and since they were all for the post office I went over to 99 Ranch and got a thing or two, then rode over to H Mart and locked the bike up. 

I walked over to Ross and amazingly, found a package of underwear to buy.  I'm impressed enough with them that I took the two black ones and put them in my "leaving for home" backpack when I got back. I plan to take very minimal clothing, just enough to wear and have a change or two. 

I went to Sprouts and got a bottle of d-mannose powder so I can continue to take it without the added sugar and cranberry nonsense. I then had $3 left and decided to look around. I noticed in the meat section the same skirt steak I'd bought so cheaply was very much not, now. I was just browsing, essentially, thinking there's not much trouble I can get into with $3. Then I noticed a package of "taco meat" for $2.15 and decided there *was* some trouble I can get into there with $3 and got that. 

The terminology is a bit ominous. It's beef, but the label just says "taco meat". Maybe in as much of the future as I'll see it will not matter to anyone if the meat once oinked or moo'd or meowed or barked, it's just ... taco meat. 

I decided to check by Sanmina for packing stuff even though it's a Monday and there was actually a fair amount of bubble wrap in their dumpster. I checked the other dumpsters and there wasn't anything in those, but that one had enough to justify getting out the big bag I carry with me and I stuffed it with all the bubble wrap and foam I could find. 

I was just tying the bag up and talking to myself a bit because who else am I going to talk to? Muttering about getting out of there before the zombies zero in on me. Then - an approaching zombie. "And there's the zombie" I observed, under my breath. 

Your typical never-took-care-of-himself white guy came lurching up, greeted me like he knew me (and old trick I think, this gets better) and asked about plastic bags "to keep warm". I found one for him, and one he had doubts about, "It has garbage trash in it" seemed to have another bag inside it that looked OK. 

He'd come up from Santa Cruz and since it feels like at least a year since I'd been there, I was interested. He said there are tons of tweakers, and I said that at least some years ago it was all about heroin, Vicodin, Oxycontin, opiates in general and I'd been told that the bruises on the legs of young people there are actually from injecting Mexican black tar heroin. 

So I bade him follow me to show him an area I thought he could bed down OK, plus a couple more dumpsters that might have plastic bags. He said he'd not slept for 3 days because of the tweakers, and as I was curious how he'd ended up here from Santa Cruz and tried to get him to understand how to get from here to his supposed goal, Los Angeles, he told me about how he'd been in Denver for some important photo shoot and helping that famous boxer in another city, and a relative of Marlon Brando in another, and how actually he's the nephew of Marilyn Monroe, see here's his name (something I forget Monroe) and here's the T-shirt from the photo shoot (shows me a T-shirt 3 layers in with a logo, the kind every thrift store has in plenitude) and "You see, I'm a movie star". 

I wondered at how such well-connected people could not see their way to let him sleep somewhere, and he'd gone to Berkeley to see his brother he'd not seen in 40 years but at his brother's place there are "Rules! I hate rules!". I *had* shown in a place he could stay pretty hidden for the night, and he was going deeper into his movie-stardom and connections with old-time Hollywood big names, all dead now, that's why no one will help him .... and I hopped on my bike and took off. 

I rode back here and almost right away checked to see if his story holds any water and it does not - Marilyn Monroe's actual name was something like Norma Jean Baker, and the youngest living relative is female and in her 90s. 

What if that bozo had had bad intentions? What I should have done was said, on hearing he's after plastic bags, is said something like, "There's a bunch of 'em near the bottom!" and rode off. 

RIP Rosalynn Carter

 To whom I am not related, really, there are a lot of Carters in the world. Jimmy Carter was a good president as American presidents go. He's a good guy, but an American first, and in 1980 stated what became known as "The Carter Doctrine" which says about the Middle East that it's OUR oil, even if its under THEIR sand, and we'll shoot anyone who gets in the way of our getting it. 

I got up at around 5, had coffee etc., then kicked my own ass to get out the door and (a) drop off a very full bag of trash, (b) go to Nijiya for some things, then (c) go over to the exercise stuff by the County building and do some exercises. 

When done with my exercises I tried going into the parking lot of the building/complex thinking I'd be able to go out onto 1st street at the next corner but it turns out to be a baffling maze and God help you if you're disabled, as there are tons of traps that would be difficult for someone in a wheelchair to get out of.

I've noted that disabled people are hated here and thus are very rare. I grew up in Hawaii with disabled people being a fact of life, perhaps due to lots of WWII, Korea, and Vietnam veterans being around. It was no big deal. Some people are good at things but one of the things might not be walking. In a civilized society, we make accommodations for them, 

But here in Silicon Valley, the doctrine of Social Darwinism is very much in vogue. Want to use the bathroom at Whole Foods? You have to be able to walk up a double flight of stairs to get the code. The streets, businesses, and so on around here are just very hostile. So if you're disabled you stay indoors all the time or you leave the area I guess. Or kill yourself maybe, unfit, surplus population and all that. 

I got back here and on the radio ol' Shankar Vedamtam, one of the regular hosts, it having a long talk with a lady who had one of her children killed by someone in a car. This long discussion is all about not paying it too much mind, getting on with life, etc. The unsaid message they're talking around is that being killed in traffic is a noble way to die, that an adult ought to be proud to sacrifice a daughter via a horrible death so the rest of us can keep driving, and that sympathy and sorrow are for the weak. Buck up, Americans! 

All the rain in the world

 I got 15 things ready to list last night but then told myself it's 2AM and I should be in bed. I ended up staying up all night again and the only good thing was I practiced a bit, not so much grinding away on long tones but messing around trying to be musical. One thing I've got to say for the shakuhachi is it's a lot more intuitive than the trumpet. 

For instance, the anime "Astroboy" has 3 series. The original black and white series, the middle series, and then a late series. I love 'em all, but the middle one has really neat music, one piece at the beginning of the show and another one at the end. I *did* work out both pieces on trumpet with some work, but I was able to work them out very quickly last night, just noodling around. 

I woke up at 4 in the afternoon, relaxed a bit and finally at 4:30 got up and checked the radar map. All the rain in the world(tm) was incoming, it seemed and shortly afterward it got very wet outside. This is why I'm glad I got everything that had sold, sent out yesterday. 

Reading my usual Reddit things, I came across a genius term: "Help theater". This is like the term "Security theater" only for help for homeless folks. They work the same way. Help theater is the appearance put forth by the homeless-industrial complex to give the more fortunate the impression that homeless people are being helped, but of course not actually helping them. 

Those who actually call the numbers, go to the places, etc, generally find themselves sent from place to place, exhausting themselves, going hungry, even putting themselves in danger of pursuit to help or shelter that turns out to only exist theoretically. 

I ran into something akin to this when I lived in Gilroy and the owner of the place I lived, being a good "small government" libertarian type, almost insisted I go on food stamps. I did, but there were constant interviews, "churning" in which I was put on, taken off, put back on, taken off, etc. Plus continual threats that at any time and at their whim, I might have to pay back every penny they'd given me, with interest. I finally decided they could fucking piss up a rope and at the time I cut up my EBT card there was $600-odd on it. 

I was getting about $200 a month from EBT, or borrowing it or something, and I had zero control over whether I'd get it. But I could go out panhandling 3-4 days a month and get the same money with some advantages: It was cash, there was no mechanism to coerce me to pay it back, I knew that for sure X amount of panhandling would result in Y amount of money, and it was voluntary on the part of people who gave me money - it was completely up to them to give or to tell me to fuck off, whereas food stamps come from taxes which are not very voluntary. 

Food stamps in my experience were not pure "help theater" in that I did get them but the strings attached were so onerous that they only made sense if one is simply unable to do anything else. I suspect it's the same for being homeless. The obviously homeless are something like 1/10 the total, because most are making things work somehow and taking great pains to not look homeless. 

I first got an inkling of how the system actually operates when, back in 2009, I'd gone to this one building in Palo Alto that was supposed to be some kind of big homeless center. There, I'd been told, I could obtain this much-rumored booklet that had numbers to all kinds of help organizations. So I'd gone there and at the window they told me it was after X time and I was to fuck off, in just about so many words. There were some very bad-off individuals hanging around outside and the one who made a real impression on me had his feet wrapped in rags in place of shoes (winters get cold here even in Palo Alto). 

It occurred to me that this place really was run for profit, and without that guy with his feet wrapped in rags, no profit. They *needed* for there to be people in horrifying poverty, out on display, for the good burghers of Palo Alto to keep the fat donations flowing. And they certainly did not give me the legendary booklet. 

I was to later obtain a copy of this booklet, only a year or two out of date, from a guy, a van-liver I think, at the Starbucks at one end of one of my regular panhandling strip malls. "You need this more than me", he'd said. As it was, I never called any of the numbers in the booklet and while I was gratified to see that it actually existed, by then I knew the score. 

 

Trying to reset my schedule

 I practiced last night, some songs. Rinban Sakamoto is big on "Rainbow Connection" which is not only not part of the traditional shakuhachi repertoire, but not even a "gatha" or church song. But I worked on it a bit and sounded pretty good, I think. It seems this is an instrument that just plain takes some years to build up the breath. 

I got some sleep but probably an hour or two because I woke up again and could not get to sleep so finally I decided, since the rain wasn't here yet and it would surely be, to get out and do my errands. 

I packed things and took them to the downtown post office, then went to the bank and deposited my check - that agreed with my own accounting to the penny. Then I went over to Whole Foods and got something to eat. It was weird being there before noon and guess when the re-stocking of shelves is done? The place seemed to have as many shelf-stockers as customers. 

After eating I went down to Walmart and got things, and there was the regulation long wait in line because even though it wasn't very busy they only had two cashiers working. That's OK though as what reason do I have to hurry? 

I rode back to Nijiya and got things there, and by this time I really felt like I was sleepwalking or many sleep-riding my bike. This was not the best since during the daytime there's a lot of traffic and things are a lot less relaxed than they are in the late afternoon. 

I got back here and had some pork rinds and a Coke Zero, and took a nap for a few hours. It was about 8PM when I woke up. So much for shakuhachi class, but I felt very unsure of my ability to ride safely to/from it all tired, and not good about my playing in that tired state. 

I've realized that simply doing long tones isn't enough, that I have to work on pieces too. Daisuke Kaminaga, a shakuhachi teacher on YouTube, says he never "practiced" much. In his case, he loved video game music, so he strove to play it and he put in a lot of time playing things he liked. His channel, the happy, cartoony, "genki" one I recently discovered, is just the thing I need at this point. 

Mr. Kaminaga is also a member of a band that combines Western instruments and shakuhachi and he plays, jumping around on the stage and makes quite a show. It needs mentioning that the old-time shakuhachi practitioners used to swear by practicing while walking. 

So my goal for the next month is to practice all the pieces we've been handed the sheet music for in the class, and prepare for a possible "concert" in that, there's a New Year's lunch in January and I remember the one I went to in the before times. The shakuhachi club played a piece or two. 

Rainy day

 Yesterday I'd stayed up all night and as soon as the post office and FedEx were due to be open, I took everything that needed to be shipped and shipped the things out, before the rain came in. It was actually dry, and warm, just with threatening clouds. 

As soon as I got back I relaxed a bit and went to bed. When I woke up at about 6:30 in the evening, it was really wet out there so I'd made the right decision. 

For some reason the post office had been shown on Google Maps as "Temporarily Closed" so I thought something must have happened and I went to the other post office that's a few major blocks North on Junction. 

Brokaw Road is a sort of dividing line, where there's really not anything "high tech" South of Brokaw, and North of Brokaw one enters the high-tech zone with huge blocks, everything scaled for car travel (no one walks in this zone), "brutalist" buildings and high-tech companies with funny names. The lawns are as neatly manicured "..as Lego pads" to quote Douglas Coupland in his book "Microserfs". 

This post office is funny because it's all Indian folks running it, and frankly it's kind of a small, sleepy post office. I dropped off my packages, turned around, and rode back. On my way out I'd stopped at the lunch truck that parks across from Tom's and gotten a breakfast sandwich, and parked in front of Tom's to eat it, eating the fillings and tossing the bread to the gulls and this one half-tame crow that hangs out at Tom's. The gulls didn't let him have any of the bread but being a lot smarter than a gull, maybe he was able to get the cheese off of the wrapper. 

I guess I'm getting too old for this

 I practiced last night not only long tones but some songs. Just doing long tones is not enough, I need to work on songs. The main problem is the lack of time. 

I woke up in time to pack 14 things, and refunded a customer for a thing that had just plain disappeared. It's very, very rare for something to re-appear once it's winked out of existence. Out of working for Ken for almost 12 years now, I can think of only two instances. So the thing is just plain gone. 

I expected it to be raining but it was not. I had small things to send so after the post office I went to 99 Ranch and got some things, then came back to H Mart and dropped off the one FedEx box then walked over to Ross to look around. That's the problem, the walk. I'd really messed my back up dealing with that heavy transformer yesterday and the walk did not do me good. My back spasmed a few things and that's fairly painful. 

I found a thin sweatshirt at Ross and even saved some money on it because it's a secret, word-of-mouth thing but prices are 10% off for "seniors" on Tuesdays. I only knew about it because a checker told me about it long ago, and I'd remembered it while waiting in line. It's just one of those things where if you know, you know. And if the checkers don't like you, you'll never know. I'm thinking now that I've never seen a non-POC working at Ross so here's another example of the Great Replacement Theory(tm) and Keeping The Whyte Man Down(tm) haha. They just like my looks and... the fact that I'm actually nice to workers in stores. 

Because my back was so messed up I didn't collect packing stuff on the way back but just got right back here. 

The I-10? Really?

 I listed 10 things last night, and did some practice, emphasizing pieces rather than just lone tones although I did a fair amount of that too. The "genki" shakuhachi channel's latest advice is that I may have been trying to play with my mouth too far from the utaguchi edge, using sheer power more than technique so I want to work on that more, playing closer without it messing up the sound.

When Ken had come over, of course I'd had to grab the ukulele and stash it away upstairs where it would be safe. And at the end of my day all I had the energy for was some shakuhachi practice. 

I'd even talked a bit with Ken about my choice of things to do, that I'd noticed quite a demand for sign painters and had considered turning the loft into a sign painting studio, but what gets me is doing signs even at a modest level involves having to have a lot of space and deal with a lot of materials.

And back in Hawaii, I can't guarantee to have much space at all. Plus unless you are Pacific Islander or Japanese (don't be Korean!) if you are selling anything in Waikiki and a physical object and money change hands, you *are* going to jail. But music is OK. I've seen videos of buskers in Waikiki and they don't care what race you are, because with music no physical object and money are exchanged. Somehow music must be considered "above" the racial laws because they could still chase anyone white-appearing out, but they don't. 

And that I'd chosen trumpet because it's easy to be heard, doesn't take an amp, and is pretty durable. Any instrument that's used in marching band is going to work pretty well. And an instrument being small like a trumpet at largest is best because you never know when you'll have to grab it and run. 

This is my world; so different from Ken's. When I'd come in last night and Ken was here, one of the first things I'd said to him was, Why does he still work so hard when he's going to be selling this business off once I'm gone? I'd said that the concept of work you like is almost incomprehensible to me, being in the working-class. If you're working-class, it's a matter of what kind of work do you hate a bit less than the others. 

This is probably why wandering samurai chose the shakuhachi, because it's sturdy, small and easy to carry, can even be used as a weapon in a pinch, and since there were no cars in those old days, could be heard just fine. 

I'd slept a bit more soundly than I've been, and woke up with just enough time to pack two heavy things that I'd have packed last night if Ken hadn't come by. It was not raining although it looked like it had, a bit, and other than the two boxes being heavy (one was 60 lbs) it all went well, and I even had a pretty decent haul of packing stuff, gathered on my way back. 

The big news right now is that a pallet fire under one of the overpasses of Insterstate 10, in Los Angeles, has actually weakened the overpass making it off limits until they fix it. They're still trying to figure out exactly how the fire started although you have to wonder why it was allowed to stack tons of pallets there. 

There were apparently homeless camps there too so it's pretty much a slam dunk that the homeless started it. First, if you're homeless you're required to smoke. It's some kind of law of the universe, along with having at least one ugly, preferably "poke and stick" tattoo. But even supposedly middle class people who get the zombie virus and turn into homeless, will turn out to have one or more tattoos. But yes, they all smoke, tobacco at a minimum but in most cases just about anything. They'd smoke dog shit if it would burn. 

Between the smoking and the camp fires and their propensity to burn each others' tents when they're fighting which is just about always, where you've got homeless, you've got fires. 

This would not be worth writing about even on this blog with a readership of zero, except I-10 is a really major freeway. It goes from the West Coast all the way out to Louisiana at least. And Reddit chatter shows that lots of people are paying attention and it's now opened to their thinking that if you really wanted to fuck things up, for protest or whatever, get a good fire going under a freeway overpass. Homeland Security had better be paying attention to this also. The railroads know what's up and they don't allow huge masses of pallets and giant hobo camps on their property. 

Today's freebees: a large green bell pepper from the veggie dumpster and although I didn't take them, something like 36 cans (3 12-packs) of Coke and Diet Coke. The workers were there at the vending machine place and the guy there said "You can have them" and I said that it's funny, I don't like Diet Coke but I like Coke Zero and that probably "said" that I wasn't in the market for regular Coke. He said "But it's aluminum" and I said I don't collect metal, I collect shipping supplies since I ship things all over, and in fact leave metal out for others to pick up, by my shop. 

F*ck the Peace Creeps

 I practiced some last night. These days I have ukulele stuff and shakuhachi stuff coming up on my YouTube feed and I found a Japanese channel that can only be described as very cutesy and bouncy and "genki". It's so damned cute! But it's also really neat. The first "lesson" the guy emphasizes the importance of holding the flute right, having an "anchor" finger that keeps you having a good hold, so you keep tension out of your playing - or least it helps to do so. 

The 2nd lesson was showing how, to be comfortable blowing the shakuhachi, try blowing into all kinds of things. The guy was getting a note out of tea cups and all kinds of things. Fun! 

The technique of keeping my chest "up" and really using the diaphragm seems to result in "more air" and a bit longer long notes so I think this is a good direction. 

For the ukulele, I need to get the tuner out and make sure I'm really tuning it because some chords sound awful. Also, I thought I'd have to go out and buy a knob of some sort to put onto the tail end to attach the strap, but there's enough hardware on there that I can tie that end on with a piece of string. 

I didn't wake up until past 5, and the guys next door are holding a party with loud music, as they're perfectly OK to do, as it's an industrial area. 

I turned on the radio and the Peace Creeps(tm) are certainly afoot. Now they're hollering for a cease-fire in Gaza so the Palestinians, a group whose name has become synonymous with terrorism, can regroup, re-dig their tunnels, etc. The same deal as the cease-fire they want in Ukraine so the Russians can re-group and reinforce. 

I was just having my coffee and thinking about my evening when Ken called; he wanted to bring some stuff over. I was just heading out to Walmart, I told him. He said I should call him when I get back - OK. I finished my coffee, just about, and he called back, asking if I was now back. I got a bit exasperated and said I had been finishing what was my breakfast and was about to head out, and just because he wants the laws of physics to change, doesn't mean I can do a half-hour trip each way into 5 minutes each way. Ken eventually said he'll just plan to come by at 8 and start in. 

I rode for downtown but I didn't go to Walmart. I dropped off some trash and then went over to the civic center where I did my little chin-up routine on the exercise stuff there. There's a light rail station right there, but whatever bums are around seem to just want to infest the light rail benches and not the exercise stuff. Good. 

I rode past the post office and through the car-free area at San Pedro Square and to my amazement, Leroy was there. I stopped and put a couple of bucks in his tip box and we talked a bit. He'd been inland taking care of his mother who moved in with his sister and busy with that for a couple of years, but he's back out here now. I congratulated him on being the last busker in San Jose and we had a good old time talking for a bit.

Then I rode over to Whole Foods. I was hoping Pee-Pee Lady and her friend were going to be there, as I'd brought a ton of pens and some other stuff for them but they were not there. There were no buskers or botherers at all.  

I went in and got one of those little salami slice snack things and went upstairs for a near-beer and sat and enjoyed those. I ended up talking with a Vietnamese guy who's live here for 30 years or something and is trying to learn Vietnamese but "it's hard". He had a neat T-shirt from Los Angeles' Japantown which he said is really small. I said that's like our "Microscopic Italy" here. 

I went back downstairs for olives and cheese, as I'd decided the Walmart stuff can wait another week and really all I'd wanted to go downtown for was olives and cheese, and to give the pens away but I'll have to catch Pee-Pee Lady another time. 

Then I rode back here, a nice uneventful ride. Ken was here, and at least it wasn't a huge pile of stuff he'd brought. Mainly he wanted to explain what things were, how to list them etc. Plus we talked about the usual science bullshit. It was a lot more agreeable than things had been on the phone... 

Which points out to me something I've seen too many times to ignore. If I tried making up with my older sister by phone or by mail or email, it would probably not work. It's obvious the internet wants people to hate each other and to fight, but the telephone and even physical mail has this effect. This is why in both the government and the business world, so much time and money is spent just so people can talk to each other in person. 

As I type here, Xi and Biden are meeting up in San Francisco and they'll probably do inane things like go golfing or eat at some mundane restaurant but that mundane shit keeps the world out of war. I love the idea of being in touch with my older sister and having some arrangement ahead of time when I move back home but that's simply impossible. I'll have to actually be back there, run into her by chance or through a mutual friend, arrange to have a mundane, overpriced lunch at the Art Academy or something, and then diplomacy will happen. 

I got my check from Ken and after some more talking he took off. He's got tons of relatives coming over which is the reason he came by today. He had some computers and stuff he had to get out of the house (now they're here) and wanted to take care of my pay check so he won't have to worry about it during the week. 

A very small outing

 I listed 10 things last night, didn't practice, and went to bed. 

I had what apparently were grandiose plans for today. I was going to go to a thing that I was under the impression was going on until 6, as it had been open until 4 yesterday, Friday. I was hopefully going to get an early enough start to, after checking out this event, take the bus up to Palo Alto and go to Gryphon Strings where I'd have fun looking around this phantasmagoria of stringed instruments including ukuleles, and at the very least buy a strap for my banjolele. 

I woke up later than I wanted, the natural result of having stayed up longer than I should, then checked and the thing had run until 6 yesterday, and until 4 today. I'd missed it. And with Gryphon closing at 5, that was already off. 

In the end I had my coffee and nuts and rode up to Japantown where I went into Ukulele Source and bought the very same Levy's strap I'd have bought at Gryphon, with no long bus ride required. 

Then I took a walk around, getting in interesting conversations with a couple different store owners. So it was a pretty good time. The guy at Nikkei Traditions and I got into talking about Hawaii things, and when the subject became the classic comedians there, I told him how when I was a kid, one kid in the neighborhood might have one of the comedians' record, then they'd memorize the routines and tell it to some other kids, who'd then pass them on. The result was getting the routines 2nd or 3rd hand, and often funnier than the original. 

It turns out there's quite a collection of music from Hawaii on the rack there, and the guy told me how they had some of the comedians' material there until someone complained; they were Portuguese and didn't see the humor in what we called "Portugee" jokes. That's how weird the mainland is. 

The guy'd even been surprised that the classic send-up of racism song, "Mr Sun Cho Lee" was sung in schools there. "Sure, we all sang it," I said. I think the thing with Hawaii is, there isn't the level of racial power/powerlessness that there is on the mainland. There's some, but it's not nearly as extreme. There's no one group that's in power and as surprising as it sounds, things are more "level" than on the mainland the same way the economy is more "level" in Japan. At one point I joked with the guy that "I'd be happy if Japan just bought Hawaii" and we had a good laugh about that. I'm serious though. 

I walked back around to Nijiya and did some shopping, and went back in for a little box of Pocky to enjoy with some of the chicory coffee I'd brought from home. I got in a lovely little conversation with a mom and her daughter; some people at the very top of the new building were waving, and we waved back and talked about fun things to do from up there like toss paper airplanes and fly kites and so on. Also about interesting hot/cold things like taking a scoop of vanilla ice cream and pouring espresso over it, and I described the lemon thing I'd seen in Barcelona which is a lemon with the insides all taken out, with a sort of lemon ice cream/sorbet put in. 

So my day was a bit different day than the usual grind after all. 

Kick Veterans In The Ass Day.

 I was up at a decent time, and packed a few more things to add to the things I'd "prepacked" last night which means print the labels and have each thing packed all but the final taping-up and putting the label on. 

I thought the post office might be closed but Ebay's pretty good about not showing a thing has to be shipped by a date, if that date is one that the post office is closed on. Therefore, I wonder if it might be closed on Monday but it was open today. 

I did the usual routine, dropped things off there and at FedEx, picked up some shipping stuff on the way back, and got back in here. 

Veterans Day is often a big pain because things aren't open right when it's very important for me that they be so, but so far no problems. 

I only practiced a little last night, mainly messing around with playing the very highest note (Ro dai kan) and seeing how easy it can be these days. 

While out on the bike today, I thought about how Herbert L. Clarke told his students to keep their chest up/out while playing even to the end of their air and tried my breathing exercises this way. This ... might lead me somewhere. It's more tiring but it might help having both "more air" and more resonance. 

 

Now it's November

 Now it feels November-y. Last night I got some things sent off, picked up packing stuff on my way back, the usual things. Ken came by and  I got my check and some more stuff to list on Ebay. I finished out my night getting 20 things photo-ready, cleaning them mainly. 

I woke up in time to clean up a bit, put on clean clothes, and head out to the bank. There was a really crazy zombie hollering away outside the bank so I went right in with the bike, a thing we'd pre-arranged because of problems like this. 

After depositing my check I went over to Whole Foods and just got a little snack thing of salami slices for $3.50 and had those with some coffee I'd brought from home. 

There was a guy sitting right on the center bike rack, doing his petition scam. I joked around and talked with the guy, though, as I don't want to piss off anyone who's got my bike and everything on it within arm's reach while they grift. 

After my little snack I went to the Amazon place for bubble mailers, then over to Nijiya for a couple of things, then rode around the long way to 99 Ranch and then to H Mart from which I walked over to Ross and Sprouts. I didn't find anything at Ross but at Sprouts besides my usual macadamia nuts I got 2 lbs of skirt steak for $3 a lb. It's funny because the packages were mixed in with flank steak at $12 or whatever it was. They looked almost exactly the same, except the skirt steak has more fat on it, which is to me is good. 

I got some veggies at H Mart and then came back here. I'd taken care of errands that I'd normally do on a weekend, and I got back here about the same time I would from my usual routine, at about 8:30 which is like getting in at 11:30 in the before times. 

Line go up!

 I listed 10 things last night, did a long, long-tone practice, then got the "uke" out and ... it was in tune, and I messed around a tiny bit with the songs I'd printed out. 

"Good news, everyone!" - professor Farnsworth. 

Graphics credit: u/antihostile on reddit.  

The point is, this is 2023, one single year and look at how much the line diverges. Interesting times are coming and soon. 

I've got "all kinds" of money saved for my trip back home but I realize that all I can expect it to do is get me back there and hopefully allow me to "hotel it" long enough to find a safe, stable, room to rent and get settled in. I'm hoping long term to be on good terms with my older sister again and combine forces in some way, because I can be pretty handy to have around. But that's it. I don't know how bad it's going to get in Hawaii because I don't know how bad it's going to get anywhere. If I have to starve somewhere, I'd prefer to do it in a place that's my home. 

Just getting over there will be rough, and the transition to being settled in will be rough. I fully anticipate being homeless, having to live out of a storage locker and work my way up from the very bottom. So far, the times I've thought I'd end up street homeless I in fact didn't, but as things get worse I don't think I can coast on my luck. 

There's a pretty good chance I'll almost be starting off as a new person, as not only are the banks all different there with the exception of the Navy Federal Credit Union, which I am seriously considering joining, but I may lose my email and ability to keep this admittedly very mediocre blog going. I may be effectively offline for months on end although probably not years unless "online" is going away for almost everyone. That's not due to happen for a few years later, maybe 2030. 

Royal flush

 I packed things, lots of things, last night. I didn't practice because I felt too tired, but did download and print out some songs from the San Jose Ukulele Club web site. (I've looked repeatedly at the map, trying to figure out if there's any way I could go to their meetings, but the meeting place, like those of all the other ukulele clubs, is situated where if you don't have a car, forget it.) 

I woke up in time to have coffee etc., pack a manual for a guy (I'd sent him the wrong one and fortunately had more than one of those, and more than one of the right one.) and get going for the post office. 

The drop-offs went fine, and on the way back I stopped by Tom's to catch up on the latest. The inspector had come around and for some reason instead of just checking things off, has to write a report which Tom will get ... later. 

I saw no signs of his usual hangers-on which was nice. No bum drama. Tom and I talked a bit and he was really keen to go to "the casino" (M8trix) and I said Fine, but I have zero money. He said he'll loan me $20 and I said that works, so off we went in his new truck. 

He got Mongolian beef and I got Vietnamese pork chops which were really good, and Tom seemed to enjoy his meal. I've had Mongolian beef there and it is good. 

Tom had wanted not only to eat but to watch the poker players so while waiting for our food he hung out, like a raven perched and apt to croak "Nevermore", over a busy table. At one point a guy pulled his phone out and took a picture of the cards, and then a manager or something was called over. It turns out one guy had had a "Royal Flush" which apparently is unusual. According to Tom the winner had thereby won $70-thousand-odd dollars which is a good day's work assuming he won't plow it right back in and lose it which he almost certainly will - that's how gamblers do things. 

I was surprised Tom got away with his lurking right by the table as the last time I'd wandered around looking at the tables full of people and their stacks of pretty chips a big guy with a "heavy" demeanor had come over and told me I was not to hang around and I'd left. I'm pretty sure I'd been tipsy on alcohol though, plus places get used to you if you're a regular which I'd been for the free coffee and food and pints of beer in the restaurant, and a non-gambler. Those places have everyone's number. These days I go to a casino about once a year. 

After the royal flush our dinners came and we ate and talked about all sorts of things. I don't think my delicious Vietnamese pork chops were too carby and I just didn't eat the big mound of rice. I offered the rice to Tom who polished his dinner right off, but he didn't want it. A "tum" as big as his is getting needs a lot of carbs to maintain, but maybe he gets 'em with beer. 

(It's kind of funny, that I never gained weight from alcohol, but from food. Theoretically it's possible from beer, but fat beer drinkers are eating a lot of carb-y food too. Your street guys who are beer-alcoholics are typically thin. And I always got tired of beer, moving on to wine and then hard liquor. Regardless of the other health problems it delivers, I stayed thin as long as I stayed "keto" on vodka.) 

Long long tones

 It wasn't much of a day off yesterday, with packing that big box and running over to Nijiya and all that, but I did make an attempt to relax a bit. Until a particular large ugly piece of equipment Ken had dragged in here tried to destroy my knee for the final time, because I dragged it into the office and took it apart. There weren't even very many valuable parts in it. 

I settled down, eventually, to practicing long tones on the shakuhachi and did a good long session. 

Then I told myself I'd sleep all I wanted and did. The result was I woke up at 5. I had one Ebay buyer ask when their item is going to ship and said I'll pack it tonight and ship it tomorrow, that it took some days to find it, which is true. 

I keep finding very depressing things to watch on YouTube about homeless in Hawaii, but in reality they're just as much end-of-spectrum cases as the wealthy people living in Kahala. The norm is just a regular person, getting along, whether it's near the upper end of the spectrum like my older sister and her husband (the lawyer) or someone like myself, as a young student, where if I had stayed the hell away from college would have had quite a nice life and been able to save up money too. 

More damp day errands

 I listed 20 things I had all ready to list on Ebay last night, and finally went to bed as I was tired. 

I woke up seeing that it was still dry outside, and I had time to pack this big item that had to go out, not heavy, just big. I had a box that's essentially a 25-inch cube, and packed that and took it up to FedEx. 

Then I rode by way of Oakland Road to Nijiya and did some shopping, mainly to pick up eggs but some other things too. It was warm, almost tropical feeling. There were a lot of people out, having ice cream because that's what you do in November, walking their dogs (some real cuties around) and just enjoying the pleasant, warm, night. 

After buying my things, I went back in and bought a package of Kasugai Peanuts to enjoy with the bottle of coffee I'd brought. 

When I was done, I went over to the ukulele lessons place to look at a poster that was up about an open mic being held by a place called "Coterie Den". I asked the ukulele guy and he said that wasn't him, that was a place that's next to the shabu shabu place. I thanked him and went over there. 

I memorized the place's name so I was able to check on it now and it's an event, in a way, in that if you're a performer you pay $10 for a slot, sing your "best song" then the winner gets professional photos taken or a record cut or something. I'll have to think about that. It's on Thursdays so I'd have to go to the bank and then right back there to get signed up. Plus, why pay $10 when I could go out and be paid $10 (or more). Plus I think this is something for aspiring J-pop/K-pop types. 

I then went by the big community events board to see what was up (I didn't really want to rush home) and then rode home. I'm glad I got this done because now I won't have to make a 2nd trip on Tuesday. 

Damp day errands

 I practiced last night, long tones. 

I woke up today later than I'd hoped to, around 5. So there went the 1/2-hour window I have once a week to visit the ukulele store. I had coffee and so on, and got out of here around 5:45. I got rid of some trash, dropped my November pledge at the temple, and went to Nijiya for a couple of things. 

Then I rode to Walmart to get, among other things, some sugar-free 7-Up so I have it when Ken comes over. But there were other things too. 

They didn't have paper towels in packages that weren't huge, so I stopped at Cardenas Market for those and some Jalapeno peppers, and at this point I was counting out change, but I had plenty of that. Because I am living my life right, I'm accumulating $1 or more in change a day. 

There was a lot of traffic downtown and a lot of activity, but I saw exactly zero buskers. Not anyone playing music for fun, no one carrying any sort of instrument around, nothing. 

Of course it's hot - it's November

 I packed a lot of things last night, and got some practice in, about half my long-tone routine before I decided I was too tired and went to bed. 

I woke up in time for coffee etc., and to pack one very large thing which I'm glad I was able to do since Sunday and probably Monday are going to be rain days. There was only one other thing to pack and it's a thing that has disappeared and I'm just hoping it will re-appear before Tuesday when it's due to go out. 

I did the post office and FedEx run, found packing stuff on my way back, got back here and unloaded then headed back out for some shopping at H Mart, bought nuts at Sprouts, and looked around in Ross but didn't find anything. It was past 10 when I got back in, the equivalent to my being out, busking perhaps, until past midnight and getting in around 2AM - I've done it. 

Trip to Sunnyvale

 I did some long tone practice last night and went to bed. I got up in time to wash up and get downtown to the bank to put my pay check in and the amount added up to the penny. 

I rode over to Whole Foods and locked the bike, surprised to find no "botherers" of any kind around the bike racks. No one begging, collecting for some shady charity, anything. That was nice. I got some food from the hot bar and cash back and ate, then caught the #22 bus to ride to Sunnyvale. 

That was today's plan and it all went to plan. I got off - it was a long ride - at the big complex with Dick's Sporting Goods, Ross, and a Sprouts in it. I went to Ross first and found one of my favorite T-shirts, one of the Puma ones that fit so well. I didn't find anything else though. I was on the hunt for a sweat shirt, nothing special, not a fleece or a hoodie, just a standard sweatshirt. 

I didn't find any in Ross, so, "Over to Dick's," I thought. I went over there and they did have them, for $45 and in pukey colors. No, thanks. I went to Sprouts thinking I'd use the loo but it turns out to take a secret code and an employee has to open it for me and I wasn't told this so it was a lot of walking back and forth and in the end I told them thanks for being so unhelpful and left. 

Next was Walgreen's to look at their blood glucose stuff. They have meters and strips and lancets and stuff and I can set myself up pretty well while not spending more than $50. As difficult as it is to get an A1C test, I can test myself for pretty much what an A1C test would tell me, with a glucose meter. So I'm considering it. I ended up getting some envelopes as I was running low and a nice little wooden ruler for Ebay photos. 

I remembered that Baraka Market is there and went in for a yogurt drink and some black oil-cured olives. It's a neat place. 

Around the corner from them was Coconut Hill market which is the best Indian market I've been in. I actually used to shop here in the early 2000s and it was good then and is amazing now. I got some sesame seeds and powdered coconut cream there.

I walked over to the Target store next. Downtown Sunnyvale has been remodeled to make everything more suitable to giant robots than to actual humans, the presence of and need for which must have really annoying the designers of the hostile architecture there now. 

Once I'd walked a good block's worth just to get around past the gargantuan parking structure of the Target I had to go in through a giant foyer and literally past 10 cops who were all waiting in said foyer. I was able to find the package of underewear I was after. I paid for 'em and walked back down the very long stairs I'd had to walk up, past the 10 cops, and was out of there. That's not a fun place to be. 

I walked to the actual downtown and it was nice to see a lot of long-existing businesses are still there. The Bean Scene coffee shop was closed, Gumba's was open, the little magazine store is still there and apparently thriving on "Smokes And Gifts". 

I walked around the corned to the Goodwill and was there in time for it to still be open for 15 minutes or so, so I did a quick search for sweat shirts. No luck, but at least one there would not be $45. The thing is, sweat shirts seem to be more of a spring/summer thing, associated with sports and working out somehow. 

I walked over to the train station and tagged in, and the train came right away. I ended up on a car with some of those seats with little desks so I was pretty comfortable, drinking my yogurt drink and watching the stations go by. 

I got back to Diridon and walked back over to Whole Foods, and to my bike to put my various things into the bike bags. 

Pee-Pee Lady and another lady, an older Black lady, were there. Pee-Pee had her sign, which she was proud to show me was drawn with the pens I'd given her. She gushed to the other lady whom I'm going to call Treme Lady, about how I'd "bought" the pens for her. I corrected them, saying No, I just had the pens around my shop, I hadn't had to buy them and in fact I ought to go trough my shop and round up all the pens I don't need and bring them by. 

I ended up hanging out with them, drinking a bottle of coffee I'd brought from home and had in my bike bag. "What's that, darlin'?" Treme Lady asked and I told her how I made it at home, that it's better than the stuff you buy, then we went into this mutual admiration thing about chicory coffee. 

It came out then that she was from New Orleans and from Treme particularly, had gone to school with relatives of Louis Armstrong, about the music scene there, and we both talked about how music and art programs used to be free and for everyone, not just the rich kids. I told her how I was given trumpet because "Everything else was taken - now the cool kids, they played clarinet" and she said she'd played clarinet. 

We just had a good ol' time talking about things, I ran down the list of busking regulars in this city that are all gone, and she talked about how New Orleans has changed and "I hate 'NOLA', it's New Orlins!"  Pee-Pee Lady was left back in our dust with all this talking about music, and all the while I'd been seeing if I could get us singing something, because tons of people were walking by without dropping any donations. I figured I could hold my end up on "This Little Light Of Mine" or something that Treme would know and Pee-Pee would know well enough. But that was not going to happen. 

Presently Treme said she was going to get going along, and I wanted to use the loo after that bottle of coffee so  I went in and did so. I came out and went into Whole Foods proper to look at the Plugra brand butter which I saw at Walmart and figured I'd compare prices and probably get some to try - it's supposed to be good. But they only had unsalted, granted, I think a dollar cheaper than at Walmart. Pee-Pee was there too, looking over the butter and commenting, asking me about things like Was this one vegan kind actually butter, and I said, no, it's margarine. 

We were able to "talk shop" a tiny bit and she was out today for about 3 hours, and typically makes about $60. "So, $20 an hour," I said, and she agreed. That's pretty good considering she works the system like a virtuoso and has food stamps, an apartment, etc. $60 a day is more than I make, and $60 a day untaxed is a lot more than I make. 

I rode back through San Pedro Square which is really busker-friendly now, being shut off to cars and there were lots of people around and I think "quiet(er) time" starts at nine, so it looked fine for any sort of busker. But, there were none. There was one bum, set up with his piles of bum stuff, bum bike, suitable lack of personal hygiene for a suitably extended time, and just sitting there like a bum. They rank above buskers in the general scheme of things... 

I had a very quiet ride home as it was after 9 which is like after midnight in the before times. Got back here, neatened up some things in the parking lot, gathered some packing stuff from the welding place, and am now in for the night. 

I turned on the radio and on NPR there was some creep from "The Lincoln Project" which I'm convinced is a psy-op being run by the Nazis 2.0 AKA the Republican Party. What a bunch of clueless twats. It's like they're thinking, "Gee, a lot of people don't like us, maybe we're not Nazi-ing hard enough. Or Nazi-ing in exactly the right way....". The guy was clueless enough to actually say something like "The US needs a center-right party, to put its case forward....etc..." We have that. It's called the Democratic Party. What we lack is anything to the left at all of center-right. 

Hitler did this. He sent out posh guys to talk to the posh, crude guys to talk to the working-class, and so on. "The Lincoln Project" is delusional because what I call "the conservative delusion" is only becoming more clear. 

"The conservative delusion" is that old line about shrinking government, lessening regulations, putting more things into the hands of the individual, let people freely agree among themselves on things, etc. What they really want, and get, is things like big government that's suddenly very concerned things like eugenics, political purity, things like that. You end up with widespread corruption, Mafias big and small. You end up with racial policies not seen since before the Civil War. You see under-the-table slavery, drug pushing, smuggling, counterfeiting, etc. We're seeing the return of child labor. When you're a 20-something, making good money, perhaps twice or even three times the minimum wage, you tend to get fooled by the conservative delusion. You want to keep more of your money in your own hands, you actually think small government will cut down on racism and favoritism, the lack of regulations will let you start your own business .... someday. The reality is the conservatives have a blueprint in mind and it's Nazi Germany. That's not small government by any means and the only ones with more freedom under that are wealthy, well-connected "Aryans" who can prove a "pure" family line going back 1000 years. Rule by idiots. 

I guess I got a raise

 I managed to get 10 things listed last night and didn't practice because I felt too tired. 

I slept OK I guess, and woke up in time to pack 3 things to go to FedEx which meant I could leave at 7 instead of 6, for the shorter trip to FedEx only. 

I stopped at the chicken place and had my fried chicken, found some shipping stuff on the way back, and got back in OK. What's annoying is the zombies. On the way out I'd come upon a zombie on a bike, rolling another bike alongside, and there were too many cars for me to just swing wide and go around. I turned off once I came to a side street, with the idea of shooting across the other day once the traffic allowed, going out to Brokaw by that street and thus avoiding the zombie. But instead the zombie wandered its own way over that way, to avoid me. Good. 

Then on the way back, riding along Bayshore, I was paying so much attention to a fire truck that had stopped across the street that I didn't notice a zombie walking along, nearly silently. They usually are more noisy, with the staggering and shuffling, but still. I should have noticed it. The next one, further up, was even more dismaying as I should have been aware of the disgusting thing, a zombess that muttered a constant stream of gibberish. How could I not have heard that? These two were going the other way and may not have been any more aware of me, but not only are zombies disgusting but the mere touch of one can transfer any of a number of diseases. 

I got back here and put things away, cleaned the place up and was all ready for Ken to come by. The power went out for 15 or 20 minutes but I just turned some flashlights on, pointing up, to make at least some low-level room light and kept with what I was doing. There had been an accident of some type at the freeway entrance because people in cars love to smash 'em up, and maybe the power company had had to cut the power for a bit. 

Ken came by not early but his usual, standard, time of almost 11PM, and I got my check - $400 again so I guess I've got a raise. I need to keep track of things like this so I have my numbers right when I do my taxes. Ken and I talked about various things, tonight an interesting subject, as we got talking about whether those drops the eye doctor uses to dilate your eyes is the same as cocaine. It turns out they're not the same thing, and the eye drops are actually something like an opioid, which of course zombies especially Eastern European ones, are fond of injecting into their veins. Injecting eye drops - doesn't that just figure.