Once A Dancer...

 On my way home yesterday I found a book, "Once A Dancer" by Allegra Kent. Allegra is Jewish from two Jewish parents and looks a *lot* like my older sister. I want to read at least the first part, about her apparently unsettled childhood, kind of like mine was. Yet she found she liked something, dancing, and made it her whole thing. 

This was a good decision because dancing doesn't take tons of materials or supplies or anything. Musically, only singing is like that, taking no equipment. You can be in deep poverty and still learn either skill. 

In my own case, I was pushed to be an artist and I wasn't able to keep anything I did, it was taken and sold if I didn't sell it myself first. I think that's what really soured me on it. 

Now that our Ebay status is back to "Above Average" I've got tons of things to ship. 

It took me all afternoon to find 12 good 0.15uF 50kV capacitors, and drastically lowered how many we have on Ebay. I think I could come up with 5 more. Then I packed them, 6 per box in two boxes, each weighing around 40 lbs. I also had to pack a fan a guy was antsy about, that I'd actually packed first, to go by 2nd day air. 

So I'm ready to go, and got ready to haul these things to FedEx. One of my bike trailer tires was low, so I got out the pump to pump it. Well, the Slime inside had jammed up the valve core, so I replaced the valve core with one that worked better, but then whatever flat the tire had had a year or two ago, opened up and the tire went flat. 

I ended up putting the trailer and big boxes back inside, and just rode up to FedEx with the fan. I got a few things in H Mart and a couple more in Lowe's then found some bubble wrap and stuff on the way back. 

I'd spotted a "crypto server" thing in the medical place's trash and after dithering around way too long, walked back there to get it and on the way, two bums zoomed by me on bikes. I knew where they were headed. Yep, when I got there one of the bums had the server turned around so I could see the motherboard was gone anyway. I said to him, "Good luck!". 

I walked back here and made some fish soup. 

More mental furniture re-arranging

 It turns out Ha'aretz doesn't do a print edition any more. It would probably cost something like $500 a year if they did. There's the digital edition that's about $120 a year and I don't need it to read at least most of it, but I'm subscribing anyway because I have to atone for my shit-talking about them and agreeing with others who shit-talked it. 

The rabbi also told us, again, that Obama was a great president for the Jews, that he supported Israel more than any other president. I have to trust him on this because I know he researches the hell out of things, especially politics. This is the opposite of the popular impression that Obama, a guy whose middle name is Hussein, wasn't very good for Israel. 

I don't know where this stuff comes from. It's like it floats in the air. I remember long ago, at a ham radio meeting, one of my friends there going up  to the chalkboard to draw some kind of diagram or something and writing out "Israel" and my trying to fuck up his spelling, "I-S-N-T-R-E-A-L..." Or another one of the ham radio guys talking about using drip irrigation that "Our friends in Israel invented" and myself making a sour face. Or my giving shit to a street person in the City who was making little bits of jewelry, some of which were Magen Davids. Just fucking stupid. 

Of course it doesn't literally float around in the air like pollen; it's got to be little things in conversations, online, etc. You pick up on the little things and learn that that's what the cool kids think.

Even back in the 80s, I remember moving to a small apartment complex in Costa Mesa, California and the first people who befriended me made sure I was equipped with my own copy of The Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion. 

I just drew out my little map to get to this big theater in Campbell for my Next Big Adventure(tm) the erev (night before) Rosh HaShana (literally head, rosh, of the year, ha-shana) service. It's an old 1930s theater and looks huge. To think my mother and her sister, my aunt, performed in places like that, and my mom never told us. 

How could she not tell us about something that cool? Was it that her big numbers were in Yiddish? Was it that the music she'd played sounded so different from the pop and rock we listened to? Somehow she knew about tap dancing too, and I believed as a kid that Mom had a pair or two of tap shoes in her closet. I don't know if she actually did, but I had that impression. 

My mom was not actually a very nice person, but I think it was because she was intelligent, and sensitive, and hurt. Born in 1937, she'd have been 5 when the war broke out. Who knows what kind of flak, haha, she and her family got in the isolationist years leading up to the war, Father Coughlin, Bund rallies, and the rest. If most of your identity was Jewish or doing Jewish-type things, and you've got to hide that, it can make for an unhappy life. 

I see it on Reddit all the time, people finding out they're Jewish and were never told they were by their parents. Or the surprise when they're in their 40s or something. "Hey I never told you but you're Jewish". 

And ... wow just wow. It turns out my subscribing to Ha'aretz, which I just did, triggered the fraud detection on my card, and disabled it. So when I went to make my weekly Harris-Walz donation, the card didn't work. I was robo-called by the bank, went  though a bunch of choices, and then it concluded by saying my card is active again. I guess any international transaction would do this. My bank is going to have a fit if I'm still using them when I move to Israel. 

I finally got going out of here at a bit past 5. The end result being that I started playing at Whole Foods at a bit before 6. I did my thing, and after an hour had made $33. I decided I'd play until 7:30 but by 7:20 I noticed whatever was gong on on the corner, with tons of police cars and flashing lights, we getting people's attention so I packed up. I walked over and asked a couple people what was going on. They said it was a guy inside the building (it turns out the building, an erstwhile collision repair place, simply had a squatter) and we talked a bit and I mentioned I'd had a pretty good day and the lady said "Oh, you do deliveries?" and I said that I'm the trumpet player and they said they were going to go over and see me. The guy wanted me to play some Cuban tune I didn't know, but I thought "El Solo Toro" by Herb Alpert would go over pretty well so I played that and it did. The guy tipped me $12 so my total was $45. 

I went in and got some chicken and vegetables and a pack of those little bottles of wine. and went upstairs to watch the incident, the view being good up there. But not much happened. I talked with some different people and we joked around. It was a nice bit of escapism, really. 

Eventually I did the rest of my shopping and rode back here.  Nothing to do but put 4 boxes of stuff that's been listed into the warehouse, catch a big black widow spider and put it outside, start a load of laundry, and wash hair, brush teeth, those last things best done before bed rather than in the morning. 

Selichot

 Well! Firstly, the good guys nailed the Hezbollah top guy, who was the architect, for decades, of Hezbollah's campaign against humanity. This is very similar to when in WWII, we shot down Tojo in his plane, Tojo being the architect of Japan's militarization and war campaign. 

I read the first 2/3 of The Handmaid's Tale, then realized I needed to get cleaned up to go to the Selichot service. And in short, it was great. First we watched the movie "Golda" and then discussed the hell out of that. I ate three little boxes of popcorn, which is a no-no under the keto diet but you can't have a movie without popcorn. 

In the discussion the rabbi said something about reading articles in Ha'aretz and this is where I really put my foot in it. "You mean the Hate-Retz?" I said. The rabbit said I'm to not use that name for it around him, and he explained, after my saying it's too far left for me, that it has a spectrum of opinions. We both said we've been reading it for years. I realized that I'd been reading it years ago pretty omnivorously, but over the last several years I'd only been reading what was pointed out on sites like Reddit, "Look at this awful article in Ha'aretz". So I'd not been reading it fairly, and I'd been exactly what I hate about the Trumpers, influenced. 

When I got a chance to speak again I explained this, that I'd been wrong. 

The service was pretty nice. It's the kind of "holiday" the West really doesn't have. It's really not a holiday but an observance. We ask for forgiveness for our sins, said sins are listed, and even listed again, and the songs are somber. We had a small band consisting of a guy with a cello, a gal with a keyboard, another gal playing the flute, and a visiting cantor literally named Star Trumpeter. Still not as good as our own cantor, Cantor Shifritz. Get well, we miss you! 

One of the listed sins was listening to cynics, so I really felt taken down a peg or two. So when the service was over and we were just schmoozing, I told the rabbi I'm going to subscribe to Ha'aretz, the printed one because on printed things I read the whole thing where it's too easy to read only what I want to, on a computer site. And then I can take the issues I've read to the temple to put on the table of flyers and pamphlets and things. I said I felt so stupid, being "influenced", just the thing I loathe in the Trump crowd. The rabbi said I'm  a good guy and I got a good firm pat/thump on the back, a wonderful feeling. 

It was now past 10PM and I rode home. Nasrallah. That's the guy who's gone. I swear, every time I hear the name Hezbollah, it makes me think of the story "Kaballa Bonga" by cartoonist Charles Burns of "Big Baby" fame. 

Things left unsaid

 They were holding another rave or whatever the hell it is last night. Tons of people, starting at 2AM, parking lot full, people hustling in and out... I just need to get the 1-2 suspected unit numbers, which unit they're using, is it where Salt Unlimited moved out? Or the one next door? And I've got the email of the cop who's the contact mentioned in an article about a similar operation being busted in this area late last year. I think it's better to narc 'em out than wait for someone to get shot or stabbed. 

In other news, I'd really thought I was on all the pertinent lists to go to the classes and so on for conversion. Apparently I was not? So, being dropped a heavy hint about joining the temple has led to my getting a meeting with the actual director of the temple, has led to my getting put on the lists for things. 

I'm supposed to get High Holidays tickets but so far  they've not shown up. A possible angle is that it's really not proper for me to attend until I'm at least seriously into the conversion process, a temple member, etc. If this is so I wish they'd just tell me. 

But it's funny how many things are "left unsaid" and it's almost like it's the modus operandi to see if a prospective member/convert is going to stick around and Do The Things(tm) with persistence over time. 

A bit early

 Ken came by a bit early last night which was fine. I got my check, we talked, it was all good. He brought by a few things to list, and I'd found some interesting assemblies with motors and relays and such things last night, so I have stuff to work on. 

After Ken left I organized 25 things to list, all ready to take the photos and go. But I didn't wake up until noon today; I guess I needed the sleep. 

What's nice is, since we're back to the rating of "above average", customers are finding and buying obscure shit we've had around forever, that I'm glad to see leaving the shop. 

I woke up at noon, and didn't really get out of bed until 12:30. I had to have my usual breakfast, and wash hair, shave, and get cleaned up because I had a 3:00 appointment at the temple, to talk with the "executive director" no less. 

I got there early, and she showed up at 3. We talked. A lot. Among other things, I learned that the "year" the memberships go by is the fiscal year, which starts on July 1st. And, she found a form where the recommended dues are calculated, and on my income, it came out to about $300. I said, "Oh, I can give a thousand". So it's established now. I'll pay my dues at $1k a year around July 1st, and in the meantime I will be concerned with the adult Hebrew class, Intro To Judaism class, and going to all the services I can. 

I now feel like this person is a personal friend. I can't really describe how ... reassured ... I felt when I left. Back when I was in Hawaii, maybe 22 years old, I had my ham radio license and started going to meetings of the HARC, Honolulu Amateur Radio Club. One time the club met in a restaurant and in my usual broke-ass style I got something small, maybe a slice of pie or some toast or some small thing. Someone had given me a sheet of paper with all the repeaters on the island listed, their frequencies, PL tones, etc on it. A treasure! 

So we all go trooping out, and I realize I'd left the sheet of paper on the table so I dashed back in to get it. It was gone, and the little pile of tips we'd left were gone too. Someone else dashed in and out after I'd come out, saw that the tips were gone, and of course being a hated "haole" the rumor was started that I'd stolen the tips. I never had anything to do with the club again. 

Now that I think about it, here on the mainland, a waiter or waitress would see a sheet of paper with a bunch of info on it and know not to throw it out. You could go in and ask them if they'd seen it and they'd say something like "Sure! Here it is! It looked important". But this was Hawaii. They'd probably been watching the "haole" and here was a chance to do 'em dirty. The waitress might have even lied to the person who went in after me, saying I stole the tips. They'd get to harm the hated "haole" and there's the chance they'd get tipped more to make up for it. That's how things are there. 

So the thing is, I kind of had this worry in the back of my mind, that this meeting today was when I was going to find out that I'm not really welcome, because I have a really goyische name at present, or because I'd committed some faux pas, or something. So I felt quite good, riding away from the temple. 

My next stop was Whole Foods for some food. I had  beet salad, salmon, a few mushrooms, and feta cheese. And one of those little bottles of wine. 

Then the bank. The numbers agree to the penny. These days I'm saving $150 a week instead of $200 a week, due to my donations to the Harris campaign. But things are ticking along OK. 

Now on to Walmart. But first I wanted to find this "Grapes Of Wrath" motel sort of thing on Monterey Road that's right out of the 1930s. I rode 'way down, far past where I thought it was. Maybe it's buried under new condos, I thought, and turned around. I found it on the way back. I went in. There's a cigarette machine there that's not worked but still smells like cigarettes. The Indian lady there said it's $120 a night. Robbery, really. I said I was asking for a friend, and got on my bike and took a slow circuit around the place, reveling in the squalor. 

At Walmart I got some things including a little food grinder that may be instrumental in my making chopped liver and also I want to make gefilte fish that tastes good. I stopped at Nijiya for eggs and a couple of other things, then rode back here. 

Books: The Handmaid's Tale I bought at Recycle Book store.  I had a long and very interesting conversation with the owner. He's got his kids in the preschool at my temple, because a friend of his, who's *really* connected, has *his* kids there. I found "Shoeless Joe", the book the movie Field Of Dreams was made from, and "Ellen Foster" on the way home. I'm only picking up books I want to read myself. 

I got back here, put things away, and started back out to go to H Mart and Sprouts. I checked the medical device place to see if there were more of those assemblies I'd picked up last night, but the whole trash container had been emptied. So I'd gotten there just at the right time. 

Tomorrow's Shabbat At Home or something. I want watch the service on YouTube. It'll feel good to stay in, other than the shipping run I'll have to make. 

 

Wanna buy a hot bike?

 I slept until noon. I have my breakfast then gave myself 2 hours to take a big thing apart, a half-hour to fry some eggs and eat them, and 2 hours to pack things. It turned out fine and I was able to get all the things packed. 

I took the things to the post office and FedEx, and found lots of packing stuff on the way home. At one place there were some of those huge prints that were so popular in the 80s, on foamcore. I  took the foamcore because it's great packing material. There were also two big sheets of acrylic that had served as glass on the artworks so I took those too. 

I stopped by Tom's to hand off the acrylic sheets. We didn't talk much as we both had to get back to work. I found some interesting assemblies with relays and motors in them at the medical device place, so when  I got back here the bike was *really* loaded. 

I got back in here and then took two Walmart bags, one for some rotting Romaine lettuce I had, and one for a leaking high voltage capacitor, and took them around to the other side of the building to put 'em in the dumpster there. Too bad! The thing was loaded up like one of those ice cream cones with all kind of crap in 'em. I just stashed my things in a box behind the dumpster and found an interesting book, "Messing With The Enemy" by Chris Watts, in new condition. 

Meanwhile there were these sketchy-ass people in the parking lot in a minivan, who had this electric bike, styled like a chopper, they wanted to sell me. I said I already have a bike, two bikes in fact. 

And once done with the dumpster thing, I set about burning my trash with sensitive information on it, and also cleaning the Shop-Vac so I can put a new bag in. So this chopper bike guy was riding around and I clipped my larger pepper spray on my pocket and kept up my tasks. They went away and now they're back, Oh fun. 

"We're gonna take other countries' jobs"

 Another bit of idiocy by Mango (low-budget) Mussolini. Yeah I know how we're gonna take other countries' jobs. If he wins and institutes the huge prison camps he'll need to to fulfill his policies, American slave labor will indeed be cheaper than labor in other countries. 

We got a little taste of how he intends to run things when he enacted the War Production Act to force pork plant workers to work to fulfill a contract to China. Workers died, because Covid was in full swing, but the important thing to him was the contract was fulfilled. 

After making the mad dash to get the UPS next day air package out, I got back here at one and started packing small things. The guy came by to pick up the CRT so that went well, and I left here at 6 with something close to 20 small packages for the post office. 

On the way back I checked my usual places, and behind the gym found a bunch of food stuff. The more sugary stuff I bagged up for Ton, keeping things like nori seaweed (used to wrap sushi) and seasonings for myself. 

So I stopped by Tom's, handed off the stuff, and ended up hanging out with Tom for quite a while, talking about things and laughing it up, then James came by and said there's a gambling hall going on in "my" complex here, which explains the sudden influx in the middle of the night of people dressed like they're going out "clubbing". This didn't happen last night though. I'm gonna keep an eye on the situation because I think it's hilarious. At least until someone gets stabbed or shot. 

Also yesterday I decided to take action on that little interaction where I was checking in at Friday night's service and the lady checking me in asked if I'm going to be a member of the temple and "they're very diligent" or something like that, about such matters. I'd replied that this year I'd spent $1500 on the two plaques to remember my maternal grandparents by, that that sure seemed to shut her up, but this tells me it's time to look into this, as I've been attending there since Passover. 

So I'd sent an email with questions, like are the dues paid according to the Jewish or Gregorian calendar, and what the recommended dues are for a single person with a gross income of $20k and a net income of $17k. Apparently the person I emailed, the person who officially handles temple dues, punted this to the executive director of the temple of all people, so I'm meeting with them on Thursday. 

I'm prepared for this. If it were the standard 10% tithe, that would be $2k if it's based on my gross income, and $1.7k if it's based on my net income. The actual dues for a single person are about $1800 a year so that's right in between. But they might look at my income and go "Oh shit, we don't charge that much for people making what most of us spend on just gasoline each year" and suggest, from their side, a much lower figure. 

We'll really discuss brass tacks! Officially, the expression seems to be trace back to how many decorative tacks to put on one's coffin and goes back to the Lincoln assassination. But personally I think it goes back further than that, when a man was buying a rifle, probably the most valuable possession he'd own. Rifles back before the Lincoln assassination, your Kentucky squirrel type rifle, featured "furniture" that is, brass ornaments on the stock. One type of ornamentation was ... brass tacks. So a man might bargain for a rifle, and in the end would get down to, literally, how many and what kind of brass tacks. 

In the end I don't mind paying the full dues because I'm serious about this thing. But it might make *them* feel better to charge me less so they don't feel like they're taking advantage of someone of modest means. 

After hanging out really too long at Tom's, I got back here and got into the stuff I'd taken home for myself. I have tons of nori now so I should look into making low-carb sushi with it. And I got a package of "Little Sheep" hot pot base. 

I cooked this "Little Sheep" hotpot base, it's for 6 cups of the stuff so I divided it up, saving 2, 2-cup portions in the fridge and then putting fish, vegetables in the last and trying it out. It's very salty! I tried to get through it but wow. I ended up dumping the last bit out, and it made me feel lousy. I looked up "hot pot" and it's more of a dipping sauce, like shabu-shabu you keep it simmering and dip things into it. And not necessarily healthy! So I dumped it *all* out. 

I got up, rounded up 10 things to list, did that, packed things and took them to the post office, then did some shopping at Sprouts and Ross, and lucked out this time at Ross. I found a good shirt and a package of three belts. 

I stopped by Tom's again because he had his door open and we talked about things and laughed it up. James came and went; he keeps finding very Ebay-able stuff but he's got ADHD so bad he can't even get his shit together enough to get his ID and "PayPal doesn't like me". 

Dinner was tuna salad, and it was the usual futzing around here and then bed.

Big shipping day

 I was actually up at 10:30 which was good because I've got someone picking up something and I said I'd be here 12-4. 

Well, I got to work packing stuff and one order, that should have gone out, ideally, on Friday, had to go out. The buyer contacted me and wanted me to UPS next day air it, on his dime. But I thought a bit and he paid full price for the things, and my standard discount on one of them would pay the $50 for UPS next day, so I packed it with some extra software and accessory kits and sent it on my, er, Ken's, dime. 

So I had to run that over to UPS because next day air only makes sense if it's dropped off pretty early in the day. I left a note on the door for my CRT pickup guy, but when I got back at 1, he hadn't come so that's all good. 

I stopped on my way back at a food truck and got a chicken skewer, about the most "keto" thing they sell, except they put extra sauce on it which I dabbed off when I got back here. Sure, due to the sauce there will be some carbs there, but not nearly as bad as anything breaded. And it was only $3. 

In fact, I find that when eating on the keto diet, there's so much stuff you *don't* buy because it's not on the diet, but then you don't want it. The bag of arare from the Japanese market. The tempting croissant at Whole Foods. 

I'm only going to weigh myself once a week but if I'm doing keto right, I'll lose a lb or so a week and that's good progress. 

Dealin'

 So, I woke up, and to my surprise it was 10AM so I started thinking about maybe getting out there busking for the lunch crowd. 

I had my Elite coffee with cream, some seeds, looked at Reddit while I ate. Donnie Dumbass has come out with another grift, a coin, the guy's not sure himself if it's a real coin or a digital coin .... Coins. Wait. There's a collectible show that comes around, so I took a look and it was today. 

So I went. I sold something I had, bought some stuff, and just had fun wandering around looking at the neat stuff and talking to people. 

Amongst the Magic The Gathering cards and Space: 1999 stuff one guy had what I thought were those standard 1-oz. silver coins. He had Trump ones and Harris ones. I knew that normally those would be at least a bit north of $30 so I was happy the guy wanted to sell me one for $25. So I got my Harris coin. 

I went around, socializing, looking around, and showed another seller the neat coin I'd gotten. He got a sort of sad look on his face and said it's  not actually silver, it's silver plated copper, he's seem 'em on line and being sold really cheap. But at least you're only out $25, he concluded. I had to kind of laugh at myself, and went on looking. 

I got to the last table and there were all kinds of things, including a huge trilobite fossil. I mean the thing's the size of the palm of my hand. I said to the guy, I'm out of money but do you wanna trade this coin for it? He was like, Sure! So the trade was made, I had the trilobite wrapped up in a paper back, so we were at the point of "no backsies". He takes a closer look at the coin and said, "HARRIS?!?!?" I think he thought it was a Trump coin because they're both in the same packaging. He just put it in his display case to sell to someone else, such is life at these shows some time. 

An interesting thing is I ended up helping two dealers make a deal. One guy had 500, 5 rolls of 100 each, forever stamps. Another guy I talked to mentioned mailing out tons of flyers. I said the first guy has stamps.. I ended up shuttling back and forth between them, getting a price from the one, telling the price to the other, getting an invoice from the one to take to the other, going back with a check, coming back with the stamps. It was cool to be able to help. 

Then I was ready to go, and my wrist was developing a cramp from carrying the trilobite around. I went back out to my bike and thought about my options. I was tired and hungry, and decided screw it, I'll go to the M8trix casino and see what they have. 

I ended up having prime rib, 2 pints of Guinness, the second one bought for me by the guy next to me, laughing it up with a couple of guys, and watching a crazy football game where the 49ers had it in the bag then missed a field goal and lost to the Rams. 

I rode back here and looked at my last post about busking, and I *had* played the early evening time. So I took off with my trumpet and tip box a bit after 5. There were no booths or beggars etc at Whole Foods. Perfect.

I started in playing at about 10 to 6, so I'd play until 7. Which I did, and it went OK. Not great just OK. I hadn't practiced last night, I was tired, and I'd only gone because  I told myself it's a way to force myself to practice. I made $24, which I spent $22 of in there and then rode back here. 

In another time line

 On Friday I was able to list 10 things, take some packages to the post office and FedEx, get cleaned up and have some time to stop in at Whole Foods to eat a beef stick and have some coffee, use the loo, etc. and get to the temple in time. 

The attendance was low because earlier there had been a Tot Shabbat so anyone with kids would have gone to that one. We had a few new people as always, the most notable being a tall Black guy in a sort of trench coat and boots and black Stetson type hat, lots of jewelry. 

So we sang our cowboy songs and did our thing, then afterward was the bread and wine and snacks and schmoozing. I ended up talking a lot with a gal named Dina who was original from Mexico City and whose father was a rabbi. She'd lived in Long Beach for some years so I was able to talk with her about Long Beach a bit, then other things. 

The black guy talked with various people, and at one point he was sitting alone at a table so I said something like, "Great hat, is that a Stetson?" and he said in fact it was. Then he started in asking me if I was into kabbalah. I had to explain that I wasn't and in fact most of us are not, and in my own case I have much higher priorities like studying each week's Torah portion, keeping Shabbat, and eating at least Kosher style, since I don't 'have a Kosher kitchen I can't call it Kosher but it's at least Kosher style for instance, since I'd eaten a beef stick before coming, I wasn't eating any of the cheese but only parve things. 

The guy claimed to hold a doctorate in anthropology and also "African studies", but he was awfully flashily dressed. Maybe he'd heard that you wear your best clothes on Shabbat and some temples do so but we dress from "business casual" to a bit more casual than that. He seemed really interested in whether we did anything strange or exotic like kabbalah. If he's spying for some group, I hope he went back to them and told them how boring we are. 

I stopped by Whole Foods on my way home for a few things, got back here, had my dinner and night-night. 

I woke up and among other things, something I've been pondering lately came to mind. I've recounted how I remembered my mother meeting with an older lady, who was from Austria, my five-year-old self being told that's not the same as Australia where the kangaroos are. And the lady talking about Israel, which I made a little memory device for myself by saying it "Is real". Being only 5, I didn't know to look for a number on the older lady's arm. 

But I wonder if there's a time line where my mother was talking with this lady, during the day when my father was at work, about our perhaps being Jewish and my mother decides to escape the failing marriage by moving, with us, to Israel. And I wonder if in this time line, my father hustled us off to Hawaii which would be even harder to get to Israel from, and which might save the failing marriage (or at least get my mother less stink-eyes for being as brown as she was). 

Mystery Pain Syndrome

 I'm kind of astonished. My friend Pat on the Big Island didn't want to talk to me any more. OK that was fine with me, I respect the wishes of friends. But I found a documentary on YouTube about a medical syndrome that sounded an awful lot like what he's suffering from, so I decided to take a chance at pissing him off, and sent him an email with the link and said he doesn't need to reply but please watch this thing. 

So today I check my email and he replied and didn't sound pissed off at all. He said he'll try to watch some of it today. I said that I'd been pretty convinced his troubles were due to being vegan, but watching the documentary, I'd remembered that he'd said he'd had the problem "back when he ate burgers" so I felt I had to tell him about it. 

I closed by saying even if he doesn't want to talk any more I still care about him. It's the same situation as with my older sister. OK so I didn't go to Punahou or become rich enough and for her that means I'm not worthy to associate with, but it doesn't mean we didn't grow up together and I wouldn't help her with a problem if I could. 

I think she'd be a lot happier if she stopped being such a damned snob but I don't know how to do that. We seem to have dealt with poverty in different ways. My way was to learn to function in spite of it, and her reaction was to hate and fear it, and hate/fear anyone who might not be at least comfortably wealthy. 

I just took a quick look at some things, and until January 1 2025, one can travel to Israel on an American passport and stay for the duration of the validity of the passport.  I forget whether they're valid for 5 years or 10, but 5 would be enough to complete my conversion and formal aliyah. 

So I have from now until December to get my papers in order and get a new passport. 

If Dumpo wins, which will be known in early November, I shall choose to celebrate Xmas in the Holy Land haha. Then why not stick around to celebrate Easter ... honestly the writing will be on the wall and application for asylum will be on the table. 

The other possibility is civil war if the orange turd wins. Because millions of us can't up and move to other countries, other countries are not going to want American problems in their laps. We've seen the documentaries and we're a lot better armed. In fact, half the country will be in an eerily similar situation to the Ukrainians, who Putin thought he'd roll over in days and something like 2 years on, are winning. I'm not of prime fighting age or condition these days but I can help out in tons of ways and instruct/train. 

 

Getting days mixed up.

 I was right in the middle of taking a bunch of illuminators apart when I heard Ken's truck pull up. I'd called him to say Let's unload the new capacitors on Thursday, and Ken remembered that but thought yesterday was Thursday. 

In the end I got a hamburger (he gets these 2 for 1 deals) and my pay check, and we agreed to handle the capacitors on ... Thursday. Tonight. 

I finished taking the illuminators apart, finished a load of laundry, and eventually got to bed. 

I drank less, again, and had a vivid dream but it wasn't too bad. I woke up at 10, and finally got going around 11. I had breakfast and then gave myself a haircut. Then I singled out 15 things to list on Ebay and photographed them. Then, as I watched the clock closely, I got out of here I thought, at 4. 

I always look at my phone to confirm the time when I leave here and it was actually 3. Oops. I dropped off trash and then mail, and got to my bank about 5 minutes before they were going to take their afternoon break. My math and theirs agreed to the penny. 

The road was all messed up on the way to Whole Foods so I went through Diridon Station to get around it. Then I went in there to eat. It being the slow part of the afternoon, there wasn't much. The things in the hot bar were all not Kosher style or not things I wanted to eat due to being full of carbs. So it was "sticks and stones" again with the addition of some salmon, and a can of fizzy water. That only cost me a little over $7. 

I sat and ate and people-watched. The security guard (they seem to just have this one guy now; he must be good at the job) gave me a wink and a smile, and I saw him hassle a homeless person who appeared to be sleeping at one of the tables. 

Because Ken and I had been gushing about Goodwill, I decided to go to the Goodwill on San Carlos. I ended up finding 3 pairs of synthetic shorts. Not quite running shorts but kind of like them. Maybe what guys might wear playing vollyball or just doing sporty stuff in general. I want to find some of the really skimpy running shorts but that may take some time. My cotton shorts I'd been wearing around here are not all that comfortable and they tent to roll up for some strange reason. So that cost me $18 and money well spent as the shorts are a big improvement. 

Then I rode over to Walmart, of course locking the bike by Big-5 and they had a sale so I looked around in there. I saw a shirt for sale near the front and picked that up, then looked into their running shorts situation. Kinda meh. So I tried on the shirt and it's great, or at great as a shirt is going to be before I lose weight, so I bought that and that was about $17. 

I didn't buy that much in Walmart, and didn't even need a bag as the Big-5 bag had plenty of room. Now I rode back to Nijiya and was going to get eggs and peppers there but they didn't have the 6-packs of eggs so I just got the peppers and some Lipovitan. 

I did find one book on this trip, about Mayer Lansky so it's definitely one I'll read.  

I got back here, listed the 15 things, and moved things around to make a space for the capacitors Ken was bringing. He didn't show up at his regular time so I started doing trash pickup in the parking lot and then of course he drove up. He brought in his check book and I said, "Don't write me another check, you already wrote me one". He ate his usual Burger King burger and fries, and I'd just had something like "burger in a bowl" earlier so I was fine - he said I could have half of his Whopper but I said I'd just eaten. 

We got to work bringing the capacitors in, took a break halfway through, then finished. It wasn't too bad. And of course we talked about tons of things. So all in all it went pretty well. 

 

It's even funnier the 2nd time

 First the pagers, now the radios. It's almost like being a member of Hezbollah isn't a good idea. Lots of discussion on Reddit, naturally.

It's supposed to rain tonight so yesterday I called Ken up and said let's aim for Thursday to bring the rest of the capacitors over. That also gives me a bit more time. 

The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that I'm right about good old Pat on the Big Island. He's a hell of a nice guy and even offered to come over to Oahu to help Dave and myself in getting a room cleared in Dave's house for me to live in while I helped him (Dave) sell off a lot of stuff. 

And yet, his message that "American Jews want to *visit* Israel NOT live there" really sounded angry. The only other thing he's gotten angry about was if I mentioned eating meat or anything non-vegan actually, or talking about fishing. Although it probably didn't help that I mentioned that I'd worked the numbers and his cats, obligate carnivores which he feeds food imported from Australia, have the same carbon footprint as a bit more than one more person. 

So yeah, nice as he is, the idea of an Israel not as a Christian-owned theme park but as a self-standing country that's Jewish, pisses him off. 

Likewise I have no intent to buddy up to "Recorder" Ron and the Waffleman, because not only is Ron someone who comes up with vicious gossip about other buskers and characters downtown (he put so much energy into trying to convince me that Trumpet Man was a pedophile that it makes me wonder about Ron) but years ago now there was a "Night Of Solidarity" thing at the temple and I'd mentioned to Ron that I'd gone to it, and made some little anti-Semetic remark that let me know he's no friend. I expect the both of them are on the same page politically. 

This post is GOLD: https://www.reddit.com/r/Oahu/comments/1fk1g2g/some_things_to_consider_for_anyone_from_the/ This is the best rundown of how things are there and why I've changed my mind on going back there.

Weird attracts weird

 Last night I moved some heavy capacitors around and took an amazingly heavy piece of equipment apart because I wanted to get it out of the shop, Unfortunately that meant I didn't get to bed until 5AM and I woke up at noon. 

Besides a pledge drive, the news on the radio is all about the latest nut to try to shoot at El Dumpo. I'm kind of ticked that the guy's last known residence was good old Ka'a'awa on the windward side of the island of Oahu. When we first moved there in 1968, at first we stayed in a lovely A-frame cottage right on the beach. That was while my father got our house ready, on Portlock Road. 

I never lived in Ka'a'awa since, but did live in Puanlu'u, Hau'ula, and Waikane. If Hawaii's a place crazy people like that Chapman guy who shot John Lennon, go because they feel it will "fix" them or be a place to hide out, well, the Windward Side (and the much more expensive North Shore if they can afford it) is more attractive to them than "Town". 

I remember, in no particular order, a lady who did women's portraits in those awful oil pastels, the only pose allowed being the woman on her back, legs spread. No view of their faces at all. A psychologist who seemed to have a problem with ... everyone ... and had a gun. A dentist who's get you into the chair and then try to convert you to Christianity. Tons of "New Age" nonsense. Tons of freeloading hippies. All kinds of strange cults. 

I guess this guy is more interesting to the media because they caught him alive. The media seems intent on tracing his whole route, life even, and it's impressive that he lay in wait 12 hours. The guy claimed at times to be from a military background but his being caught shows he was not. Secret Service people tend to come from military backgrounds, and we all remember the beloved "police call" where you went out and picked up every bit of trash, every cigarette butt. Even old ones. Even bits of ones. 

The Secret Service, in checking out and area and making it safe, are going to look for anything at all that's out of place. And a gun barrel is a lot bigger and out of place than a cigarette butt. The guy seems to be a "dissatisfied customer" as he'd voted for El Dumpo and was unhappy he'd not followed through on some of his talk. Whether his gripe is about the economy, or America not being made full-on white nationalist, or what, we'll find out. 

The thing is, weird attracts weird. Assassins have certainly targeted presidents who were not weird, but when the president is a weirdo also, I think there's a multiplying factor. 

I got an email today from "Nikkei Resisters" which is an American-Japanese group dedicated to whining about the internment camps and trying to make some noise about trying to prevent something like that happening again. Well, I was cordially invited to see a movie called "Israelism" which they're showing, a nice anti-Semitic screed. I unsubscribed, and put as my reason that I stand with Israel and that Israel deserves to exist and Jews deserve to have a homeless just as much as Japanese deserve to exist and to have a homeland. 

Haha that ought to piss 'em off! I'm pretty sure this is the reason my two flake-O friends back in Hawaii aren't talking to me any more. Ol' Pat seemed pissed off when I told him of my plans to retire in Israel. He wrote back angrily that "The dream of American Jews is to VISIT Israel not live there". Is he saying, knowingly or not, that he wishes Israel to be taken over by the Arabs and run as a sort of theme park for visitors, the way Hawaii is regarding the native Hawaiians? He may not have thought it through, but I believe that's what he said. 

Now that I think about it, I think he wants the Arabs out, Israel to be Christian, and a few Jews left to be players in a Disney-fied "Holy Land" theme park. So a Jewish American visiting the place is well and fine, but a Jewish American going there to live is one more obstacle to the Christianization and Disney-fication of Israel, so whether he's thought it out this clearly or not, it pissed him off. 

A bit of hope: The Isreal Decolonization Force somehow made a lot of baddies' pagers explode. I mean ... They. Made. Their. Pagers. Explode. I have no idea how they pulled that off but they did it. I'm overwhelmed with admiration. The baddies had gone to pagers because they thought they were more secure. They were until they weren't ha ha. 

I left here a bit before 4, dropped off packages at the post office, then got down to Walmart and bought things. But an interesting things happened as I was looking for the Ziploc bags. This heavyset guy asked if I'd seen Ron lately. Naturally I replied that I don't know any Ron. Then he said he was a guy I'd sung karaoke with and I replied that I don't sing karaoke. 

The breakthrough was when I realized he meant "Recorder" Ron who played a recorder and a bippity-boppity little drum. This guy used to run the karaoke thing with Ron. They'd later sold grilled cheese sandwiches and now this guy, henceforth the Waffleman, sells waffles. I told him I thought Ron had left the area as I hadn't seen him at all. Ron had inherited a house from his father, but since it was a 55+ place he had to sell it. It sold for $15k of which he got $7k. 

And where's Ron living these days? "He living in my kitchen" quoth the Waffleman. That's kind of hilarious. I imagine Ron curling up and sleeping under the sink. Waffleman got Ron a job washing dishes at the Old Spag, and now he does "maintenance" there. I said this is amazing because I've played trumpet there and never seen him. 

I asked if Ron was still doing music, and he's doing art these days. He doesn't hang around downtown at all but rather goes straight to work, and straight home. 

And the Waffleman? He sells waffles, and can be found at 11AM somewhere downtown I forget. The cops have only said they're glad he's there. I guess the smell of waffles reminds them of donuts. 

I rode back and as I rode, I thought of a way to get this one guy, maybe, to upgrade the feedback he left for someone to good, as he'd left a neutral and even that hurts our score. I'd send him some other prism that's like the one he got that he wasn't happy with. I could not find one like it, but found a few that we have many of, that are not selling. So I packaged up the three and realized if I hurried I could get to the post office and mail the package off, since it's supposed to rain tomorrow and I plan to stay in. 

So I accomplished that, then went to Ross and looked at two different jackets, both of which didn't fit right. Then I went to Sprouts and got my roast beef and a lb. of codfish. 

I stopped by Tom's and we talked and laughed it up a bit. The guy's actually sleeping in his truck camper, because the inspectors won't let him live in his place. The problem is Tom doesn't seem to understand that he brought this all on himself, by befriending James. Eventually we were both cold and tired and I rode back here. 

Codfish soup for dinner, yum! 

It's not O'Hana

"Doesn’t matter. It’s not O’Hana. It’s not family. It’s not culture. It’s corporate business that doesn’t always know who or what they cut while trying to do who or what they think they know." 

- u/Competitive_Sail_844 on Reddit. 

Fucking WHAT? "O'Hana"??? This is really starting to boil my blood. That's how colonized Hawaii is. "Hawaiian Pizza" is a good example. Made of wheat (not native to Hawaii), cheese (same) tomatoes (same) and pineapple (same - it's native to S. America). Or you go to Hawaii on vacation and go to a luau; a recommended one is Germaine's (a European name) and it's a commercial thing, you pay to go to it. You get a tiny dish of poi because the organizers know you're only going to taste it and go "Ewww". 

I've been to a real luau, the kind you're invited to and you all bring what you can or just come if you don't have anything. You eat all you can, swim a bit in the ocean to get your appetite back up, then eat some more, and take food home too. The older (Samoan) ladies have tattoos on their faces (it means they've got some rank) and nod and smile a lot because they're not too good at English. 

As I've said, Hawaii doesn't operate under racism so much as color-ism. If you're brown, come on down. This means that anyone who's a bit brown can get a job as a "Hawaiian" so at Germaine's luau there's likely not an actual Hawaiian anywhere near the place. It'll be run by Asians and Filipinos. They're brown enough, and you'll go back to the mainland bubbling about how you went to a real feast with Hawaiians. 

Compare and contrast Israel. They revived their language and use it with pride. Christians who try to convert anyone there are kicked the hell out. No one's taking some food or fruit from the other side of the world and saying it's Israeli. 

I realized I was out of a bunch of stuff, most importantly at the moment I realized this, cream for coffee. I was right out of it since I forgot to pick it up at Whole Foods after busking yesterday. I made a list of other things I need, and took off at about 3 to go to Walmart. I stopped in at Nijiya first because I hadn't had anything for breakfast, and got some nice cold grilled mackerel and a can of black coffee. I sat and ate over on the old hospital steps, then continued on. 

I had to whiz so I stopped in at the little food court on First kind of across from the erstwhile Cafe Stritch. They have clean bathrooms that are open. So I went and did that, and noticed there was a lady working at the little bar there, called The Fountainhead. 

I talked with the lady about how I'd been there on election night in 2016, and plan to be this coming election night. The menu used to have a lot of drinks named after architects but she, the owner, had changed it around to drinks people would be more familiar with. She has them named after what the "Bottoms up!" saying is in each country that drink is themed. 

We talked about other places that have managed to stay in business, and just a lot of general things so I ordered a Guinness except when I ordered that I was looking at the word Heineken on the menu so my mouth said Heineken. So that's what I got. I said I wanted a Guinness and she said I'd said Heineken and I said I think I did, because I was looking at the word Heineken. I sipped that and we talked, and eventually after chatting a little with other people who came to sit and drink, I said I'd have that Guinness after all. I ended up getting pen and paper and wrote the "Bottoms up!" saying for Hawaii and is okole maluna, and how to pronounce it, and then two drink recipes I've invented in case she wants to try them. 

This was all well and good except for a few things. Firstly, the beers are carby so that's not exactly staying with a keto diet. Beer makes you fat! And I'll say the Heineken is probably worse for that than the Guinness. 

Secondly, the beers were expensive - $8 each. And lastly, I looked at the time and realized I didn't have time now to go to Walmart, because I had packages that had to go out today. So I rode back to Nijiya, got my cream for coffee at a higher price, and other things. And got back here, packed the packages, and took off for FedEx. 

I stopped at Tom's place because I'd gotten a package of raw peanuts at Nijiya for him. He's been buying them at Sprouts where they're really expensive, so I've been on the lookout for cheaper ones. I got a bag for myself too so I can see how they are. The main thing is they're fun to give to the crows. 

I dropped off the packages at FedEx then got a couple things in H Mart, then went to Lowe's for paper towels. Then dinner and ... packing more things, small ones I can take with me on my way to Walmart. 

Starting my Sunday the right way

 By sending $50 to the Harris campaign, of course! 

I got a little practice in last night, and also had an interesting thing happen. The dumpster that the machine shops use, it turns out, is never actually locked. They close the doors to the enclosure so they're very even and there's a padlock hanging on there, but the lock is just "there" it's not locking anything. Well, last night one of the doors was a little mis-aligned so even I could tell it was not locked, time for a look in there. 

Because I've probably pulled $2000 out of there over the time I've been here. So I went to have a look and surprised a homeless lady who was in there rooting around. It was a lady I'd met there before, so we talked. She needs knee surgery but believed that because she'd been to the ER at Stanford she couldn't go to Stanford. I said it doesn't work that way, and she ought to check and see if she can get it done at Stanford. Her own doctor is in jail for a dozen years because his wife was cooking the books and so she was doctor-less. I also told her to look into organizations like St. Vincent De Paul and so on. 

Anyway, the trash. She was looking for a purse or a backpack, anything like that. I thought about my CostCo backpack which really isn't that great, and told her to wait a minute, and went in here and got it. I gave it to her and said it had only cost me a dollar and she'd use it a lot more than I would. 

I'm sad to see on Reddit that another nut has self-immolated or at least tried to (he lived) in front of an Israeli embassy. That's the Western Death Culture in action. I've long felt, since a teen, that suicide is illogical. In terms of Judaism, I'm pretty sure the idea is that your life is not yours but God's; it's not yours to take. 

If this latest idiot wanted to actually try to change things, he could simply get a tourist visa to go to Israel, and go around and see how things really are. Maybe let himself be captured by the Hamas he loves so much. But honestly, go there, boots on the ground, talk to people Israeli and Arab, and see what's really going on. Maybe find a way to volunteer, there are plenty of pro-Hamas organizations, sorry to say, the biggest being UNRWA. 

I didn't feel very motivated to get out there so I decided I'd try playing the 5-7PM time slot. I stayed in and took a big ugly piece of test equipment apart because we can get more for the parts. Then took off at around 5, and first checked out the Old Spaghetti but there were two loud sources of canned music plus a live band I didn't want to interfere with. On to Whole Foods. 

It was cloudy which as far as I'm concerned was great. I bought a bottle of water to use as a weight to keep my tip box from blowing away, and set up to play. I planned to play from 5:30 when I set up to 7:30. It went well. I'd practiced up a few cheerful songs and really mixed things up at one point playing "High And Dry" by Radiohead. 

One gal came up, put a $20 in the box, and I said I do requests, and she wanted me to play "Beautiful Dreamer" again so I did that. This other lady who's convinced I'm a teacher (I can't change her mind on this) put in a $20 and hurried off. The motorcycle-riding guy from Greece came by and put in his customary change, and the Paperclip Bandit put in two little $2 bundles secured with colored paperclips. I guess he's happy to see me back. 

There were no tweakers, no Grandpa Hate, no bums, just no problems at all. I ended up playing until 7, and almost all the tips, maybe all but one, had been in the first hour. I made $83.50. I got a lot of compliments on my playing too. 

Saturday night

 Well, after listing 10 things on Friday I actually got my ass in gear and fixed the flat tire, and moved that tire to the front wheel and put a newy-new tire on the rear, and was back on 2 wheels. 

I didn't leave here until past 5 but that's OK because I only had two small packages to ship and I know of some mailboxes that are open. I took off and dropped off trash, then went  over there and dropped the packages, then went over to Whole Foods. 

I invented a dish I call "Sticks And Stones". What you do is, take a bunch of the Parmesan cheese shavings, which look like little sticks, then put some Kalamata olives on top, those are the stones. Then put some "zesty tahini" dressing on top because that's the bottle that's always at least half full, because tahini is too exotic for most. It's a lot of calories for the weight due to the cheese, tastes good, and can be eaten quickly. 

Then I went over to the temple for the service and I'm glad I did. I was welcomed by one of the ladies who holds some kind of office, those who do wear these little pins that are hard to read but are shiny and rectangular and so it's easy to see this or that person is "ranking". She had me sit near the front and then a lady who is originally from Brooklyn but "has lived here longer than there" sat right next to me. 

I had my glasses ready but instead of the screens, we used siddurim but different than the ones used outdoors. These are hardcover and the print's small enough to almost but not quite need reading glasses. And the lady next to me had an even harder time because the page numbers are in black and blue, with the black ones going the way Western books do and the blue ones going the other way like Hebrew books do. 

So we sang our cowboy songs and I could just imagine the wagon train makin' it over the hill and the brave cowboy's back from the trail and gonna marry the Sheriff's daughter and the sagebrush blowin' in the wind, but also I helped the lady next to me a lot, keeping up with the page numbers and showing with my finger just where we were. She kept thanking me too which was neat.

It was a small attendance but it was a great service. It was supposed to be a "Rock Shabbat" but "rock" ended up being one guitar. I got to make the rabbi laugh a few times in the service and the oneg, and all in all I left feeling great. 

I went back to Whole Foods and got some "salmon bites" and decided I'd try cheaping out and got some beef hot dogs. And the cheapo wine, nothing special. Cold hot dogs, salmon bites, cuke slices, and wine for dinner.

Then, well, shabbat. 

Now I woke up at noon or so, read the 2nd half of Children Of Men, the ending of which ended up a little too pat for me. 

I also watched the most amazing 9/11 documentary by a pair of brothers from France, who were filming a documentary about a rookie NY firefighter, and then 9/11 happened so they filmed that. I'd always been kind of, "too soon" about watching anything involving 9/11, but I'm glad I watched this one. 

Am I that out of shape?

 Sure I walked plenty of miles yesterday but I feel really beat-up by it now. I'd say "this morning" but although I drank 1-1/4 bottles of wine to get to sleep quickly and probably was passed out by 2AM or even 1AM, I slept until 1PM. Now part of this is probably because I only slept about 3 hours the night before, then did all that walking. I woke up in Donald Duck mode. That is, apparently I'd gotten up to pee, and to expedite things had dispensed with my underwear and shorts. I also found a length of (unused, thank goodness) in my bed along with the underwear and shorts. I hadn't peed them but it must have been close. 

If this means my tolerance for wine is going down, good. 

I need to walk more to stay in better shape but I sure don't need to walk more today. At least I moved some things around to start to be able to accommodate the next load of capacitors coming in. And practiced the shofar a fair amount while drinking wine and watching YouTube, er, Vimeo actually, because there's one Adam Curtis series that for some reason Vimeo has and YT does not. 

This: https://www.reddit.com/r/Jewish/comments/1ffy6qb/ex_friend_finding_success_as_a_pro_pal_influencer/ is a very good discussion of what's going on now. Essentially, a lot of Americans are Nazis but they're not quite to the point of calling themselves that. But they're getting paid to be Nazis, getting approval and funding from large institutions like colleges, and deep underneath, they think this is really neat, because the underlying motive, as with the first-generation Nazis, is, Here's a small group of the population that's rich, so if we kill 'em off we can take their stuff. 

According to this: https://www.statista.com/statistics/1416272/us-household-income-by-religious-affiliation/#statisticContainer Jews are a wealthy group, but next is Catholics, and Asians aren't doing so bad. I'd expect Asians to be the next group to the death camps if Americans can really get their Nazism rolling. Also, I'm going to say that if you're working-class, you're not going to be prone to admitting something that you may be attacked for. I don't even admit my left eye's not much good, I'm sure not going to admit to some stranger with a clipboard in hand that I identify as Jewish. 

When it rains, it pours

 Ken came by an hour earlier than usual last night. I'd just cooked and eaten Burger In A Bowl with two fried eggs on top, and Ken said it smelled like tacos. I said it was onions, peppers, and I'd used some garlic powder and that's probably why. I said at least I didn't cook fish, and if I cook before he comes over I always make sure it's something familiar. 

I got my check, and we talked about all kinds of things as usual. He wasn't wearing his blood glucose monitor so he had to test himself and he was low and I didn't have anything around here he was interested in but he remembered he had a bottle of A&W root beer in his truck and drank that. He says the main way he can tell he's low is he'll start to get a white-out in the center of his vision. Ouch. 

I used to keep a box of brown sugar with a spoon all ready to go here, but then I thought he was carrying lots of fruit juice in his truck. I think I'll get another box of brown sugar because that stuff can sit for years and be fine. 

Ken's going to get more big capacitors, so along with working on the bike tires, I've got to move things around to make a place they can be put. 

After Ken left I got 15 things ready to list which took some time, some of it was taking a thing apart as well as general cleaning, prettying-up, etc. 

I woke up at 9 this morning after having an anxiety dream that was a jumble of worries about Ebay, about moving to Israel, etc. As the Talmud says and both Nikola Tesla and Harry Houdini agreed, dreams are just a mishmosh of one's daily events and things one is worried about. 

I was able to list 15 things on Ebay, pack a couple, and get myself cleaned up and took off from here, walking, with the two packages and a bag of bike tools. I didn't have to wait very long for any of the trains or buses I took today so that was nice. 

First the post office, then I walked over to the bank and deposited my check, their math and my math agreeing to the penny. Then the next stop was Good Karma Bikes. I waited to talk to the big gal who I'd not only bought the folding bike from, but who gave me the neat patches yesterday - she was the only one who know where the patch stash was. 

She was putting a Campagnolo gear cluster on a wheel for a guy, and the dumb little gears have to be put on *just* right and the right side facing out, etc. Then she said "We need a cap" and went off to help someone else with something more urgent, and I noted a cap sitting there so I put it on, finger-tight. The old shop guy tightened it down, so when she came back up front, it was all done. 

I held up the Walmart bag I was carrying, and said, "I'd said I'd bring you guys some tools I've never used..." and brought out a bunch of new Park tools I had indeed bought and never used. A pedal wrench, chain breaker/installer, cable cutter, a smaller pedal wrench, a new tube of Phil grease, and some odds and ends. They were very happy to see these. Then I sprung the trap: I said I'd like to get "however many more patches you'd like to give me" because "I have a large Christmas list and some of them have children..." 

So I got something like 50 patches and 165 stickers. We're talking about $1800. So I could have simply listed the tools on Ebay and let them sell, or I could do a swap like this where a lot more money comes in. I don't mind doing this because business is not good right now so I don't mind pitching in. 

Next I walked over to Whole Food and got some food and ate, drank a tiny bit of wine like 1/4 of one of those "airplane" bottles, along with a can of fizzy water. 

Sated, I walked over to the light rail and took it to Japantown, and walked to Nijiya where I got eggs, beef, and some other things most importantly a "medicinal" bottle of orange Fanta. The whole bottle has 60 grams of carbs, it's fantastically carb-rich. And Ken wanted something orange or lemon, so I have something to keep around here in case Ken gets low sugar again like last night. 

I walked back out to the light rail and then from the Airport/Metro station to back here. In the end I had something like 15 or 20 lbs of stuff in each hand, and I stopped several times to rest. 

A resounding win

 The media agrees with me, the debate yesterday was a resounding win for Harris. The mainstream media is a little less fawning on Dirty Don now, and maybe they've concluded that this particular dictator might not be so good for them after all. 

Today's 9/11, and Harris and the Diaperman both went to the memorial. I'm sure Harris made a great speech and the Dolt gave a thumbs up and talked about himself, sliding in the odd observation that the people who died were suckers and losers. 

While watching the debate I got together my last batch of books. After this, no more book racket for me. I'll go back to using the little free libraries as libraries, taking only books I want to read, then returning them when done. 

I left here at about 2:30 maybe 3, with my last load of books and some packages for the post office. I did my drop-off at the post office while the zombies in the park there fought and gibbered etc. Then over to Recycle Book Store where I handed them over, saying "This is my last batch". The guy asked if  I was moving, and I said no, that I just find books. And that it was a good thing when I was buying books I wanted like that one $60 one, but now I've got tons of reading ahead of me and I'll just go back to playing my trumpet. 

Because if I'd just played trumpet yesterday/today, I'd have made more money and gotten my Recommended Daily Allowance of practice in too. 

I got $8 for my books today, and had about $9 already. I went to Whole Foods and bought wine, then counted up what I had left. About $3.50. I got a hard-boiled egg, a bunch of Parmesan cheese shreds, and a dollop of tahini salad dressing, from the only bottle that wasn't empty. And my sneaky trick: I got a packet of soy sauce from the sushi counter. Whole Foods believes that you'll die of covid if you salt your food, so salt is unobainable. But shoyu is very salty. 

I also got a 89c can of seltzer water. When it came time to pay, however, I was about a dollar short so I had to put the seltzer water back. That's the kind of economy we're in these days, a 1930s sort of one where even a bit of seltzer water is an extravagance that must be foregone. At least the egg and cheese etc was pretty good. 

I went to the Good Karma bike shop and asked if they had any sew-on patches. I had to explain the concept, then the big gal there who I'd bought the folding bike from went into the back and gave me a handful of Palo Alto Patagonia patches. I'm hoping one of those will cover the "Danskin" logo on the yellow jacket I got from there. 

Now I had to donate the rest of the books, to the Peace & Freedom Center. This meant going through the center of downtown and that meant often traveling no faster than this or that shuffling zombie, so that took a while. At one light, a blonde zombess was crossing in front of the cars, not giving a shit. Then the thing stopped and waited, and when the light changed, didn't appear to notice. Then, when the walk signal was still on but the left turn arrow was on, thus the tantalizing chance of being hit by a car, the zombess looked down at an invisible watch on its wrist and sauntered across. Zombies don't care, they're already dead. 

I got to see that even at 4 in the afternoon, there are a lot of students walking around the Paseo de San Antonio, and it might be a good lunch time place to busk. Also tons of zombies shuffling around and smelling bad, but I can bring my larger pepper spray to deal with them. 

It was 5 when I got back here. The End Times wind is really strong today so the ride was very slow. 

I packed a heavy (but not too big) thing that has just sold and with another heavyish-largeish package, had a load to take to FedEx. I took off at 6, and by the time I got to Fry's the going felt like I was going up a hill. I stopped to pump the rear tire up a bit and I think that helped but I think a lot of it was the weight I was hauling, the wind I was working against, and I was already tired from all the riding I'd done doing the book run. 

Also I'm pretty sure I'm keto-adapted now and that will make a difference. I need to start weighing myself once a week. 

I got to FedEx to drop off trash and the two boxes, and coming in, I heard this loud music. The source of the music turned out to be a teenage Gypsy boy with an amplifier and a "keytar". He was playing this one riff over and over but it was catchy and sounded good. I still had those 50 "unlucky" pennies from earlier so after my FedEx business I went over with my change bag and dumped all these pennies in his pot. I saw a $10 in there and it looked like he might have been doing pretty well. It's hard to say because I'd have to know how long he was there, maybe hang out at the Starbucks and observe, etc. 

But it's an intriguing thought, because other than the fact that I'd have to set up on a parking lot island like the kid was, I'd say it's a good busking location because the place is typically busy as hell, and people are all funneling in and out of a smallish area. 

I got some boxes from the EMT place, and as I left there, noticed the rear tire was feeling kind of squishy. I stopped by the tire place to pump it up more and rode right back here. I think it's spit out so much Slime that it's gone dry, and I'll actually have to do something about it now. 

 

 

 

RIP James Earl Jones

 The voice of Darth Vader, the guy with the epic voice in Field Of Dreams, has passed on. Field Of Dreams is an OK movie but it will always have a special meaning for me because one night in 1995 I was sitting in my room in the Olympic Training Center, watching my TV that I had to stick my finger into a hole to change channels, and was watching that movie. The whole idea of building your own ball field reminded me of the kind of thing my dad might have done. The part where there's some ghostly voice saying "Ease his pain" I was actually crying. It really got to me in a way that surprised me. I found out the next morning that that was probably the exact time my father died, back in Hawaii. It's not very scientific but there you have it.

Last night I got a batch of things ready to photograph, "played with my food" AKA divided the fish and hamburger into portions and put into the freezer, started a load of laundry, and got a batch of books ready to take to the used book store. 

I woke up at 7AM amazingly, then went back to sleep until 11AM when I got a call from some volunteer reminding me to vote no on proposition 34. I said I'll probably vote that way. I'm going to study my election materials carefully. 

Besides all the other things I have to do today, I want to see if I can watch the presidential debate. It turns out I can watch it on YouTube so that's good - I won't have to spend money sitting somewhere with a TV. 

I left here with my (heavy!) books and packages around 3, dropped off the packages at the post office and took the (heavy!) books to the used book store. I ended up getting $10 in cash. I took the books they didn't want and put them in the little free library on Shasta.

I went to Whole Foods and got wine and put it in the bike bag and then got some food and a bottle of Lagunitas IPA. I rode back here, stopping for bubble mailers at the Amazon place, and picking up a few more books but here it got interesting. 

I picked them up from the little free library on 5th, and the old guy whose house it was in front of came out. "You finding anything good?" he asked. I said I was, kind of. He said something about being sure to put a lot of books there and I said "I'd always figured you were a voracious reader". Well, I should have said "I thought you read a lot" following the rule of the first Cat In The Hat books which were written in Basic English so even the uneducated or dull could understand them. The guy seemed to not understand the term "voracious" and my explaining it didn't help. I finally said, "This is not a 'San Jose' conversation, a 'San Jose' conversation would be more like 'You gotta cigarette?' followed by 'You gotta dollar?' or 'Which way's the bus?'" and ended with "I talk too much!" and rode off. Maybe the old dum-dum just likes the books because most have colorful covers. 

Really I'm starting to re-think the whole thing. The "book racket" was nice when I wanted to stock up on Jewish books, and it was a great way to fund my expensive Koren chumash which I really like, but it's a lot of work for little money even in trade credit and there are not a lot of books I'm that keen to get now, as I've got plenty to read. 

So while watching the debate I cleaned up the last of my books and am throwing in two big books by Abba Eban I'll probably never get around to reading, and will do one last book run tomorrow. Then, after that, I'm just going to stick with busking.

In fact, in riding around today, I noticed a fair number of people walking around the Paseo de San Antonio and around the $2 hamburger place that's owned by a Trumper so even though it's students I might try busking there because there's no set demographic that tips me. 

The debate by the way was kind of hilarious. Donnie had this old-man slump and played his invisible accordion one-handed as the other hand was used to lean on the podium with. He scowled constantly like he had "something died" farts that were seeping up through his suit. The times he tried smiling were just gruesome. Harris did great. I felt like I was watching the Kennedy-Nixon debate, the first debate on TV. Except Nixon was actually intelligent so those who listened on the radio thought Nixon won and those who watched on TV thought Kennedy won. Even just on the radio, I'd have known Harris wiped the floor with The Dump. 

The secret of the coal miners

 Last night I took a couple of things apart to have stuff ready to list today. I woke up at 12:30 and I guess I needed the sleep. I turned on the radio and good old NPR was talking about the coal miners in Appalachia. 

The central question being, why had this area, so solidly Democratic, so heavily fallen for Rotten Donnie? All I'd ever heard about coal miners was how miserable the jobs were, being paid in "scrip", the pitched shooting battles between miners and "Pinkertons", if you were short of rent on your company-owned shack the property manager to to screw your wife, black lung, etc. If you mention coal mining/miners this is the picture that's going to come to mind. 

The guy on the radio said that due to heavy Union agitation and solidarity, coupled with the oil crisis of the early 70's, plus the introduction of machines to do the hard work, miners became wealthy. He described a helicopter delivering a kid to a public school, and helicopters hovering over a football field because it needed drying out so the team could play better. 

This prosperity went on into the 80s and a bit into the 90s. So this is not a case of beaten-down and ignorant peasants longing for their days of toil with an "idiot's spoon" (shovel) and a reliable bowl of gruel, this is the living memory of coal jobs being very good jobs. 

This reminds me of pineapple jobs when I was a kid, jobs that I, due to my race, could never aspire to get. If you were the right race, a job in pineapple meant you could buy a house, start a business when you retired, send your kid to any college they wanted. 

So these halcyon days, days of relating to the upper-middle-class family in The Brady Bunch, have largely gone. And along comes Dumpo, who's old enough to have been familiar with John L. Lewis, the famous union organizer, and probably has taken on some of his mannerisms or style in his rants. (I'm convinced my mother, who would have heard the odd Hitler rant in newsreels or on the radio, took on a bit of his style when she ranted at us.) 

I looked up a Lewis lecture on YouTube and sure enough, there are some similarities. Lewis had a bit of a goldfish mouth, while Donny does not but seems to have taken on the mannerism of making a goldfish mouth even if it's not natural to his mouth shape. Lewis had rather epic hair, and I wonder if that was the inspiration for Donny's rug-like coif. Lewis was short and stout, hence his suits would have to be a big baggy to work, and Donny likes his baggy suits - he always reminds me of a kid who wears his older brother's clothes to see more grown-up. 

It was a charismatic populist leader, Lewis, that the miners, by following him, created the good living of the early-70s to early-90s. Therefore, by following another populist blusterer, even if as evil as Lewis was good, they'll get that good life back again. 

It's the same kind of stupid calculus that I did, deciding that studying electronics would lead to a good life for myself. It's a hard pill to swallow to realize the best you can do is manage poverty as well as you can. Do not aspire above your position. 

I had a package that should have been at UPS about 5 minutes after they opened and the customer was (understandably) antsy so I told him I'd get it right out and did so leaving at 2. I took it over there and they have a system where you scan the package at a little kiosk then put it in the area with the other packages that have been scanned. So that's nice. 

Then I went over to H Mart for things like hamburger, mackerel, veggies. Around back I picked up a bunch of thawing frozen fruit bars and 7 bottles of "vinegary chili paste sauce". I hurried over to Tom's and handed him the bag of frozen stuff, saying "Put this in the freezer right away" which he did. And gave him 4 bottles of the sauce because he likes to cook with Korean sauces. 

Tom's getting over his covid but now has bronchitis he says, and I said the frozen fruit bars might help. A bit of small talk and then I said I have to get my groceries into the fridge, and rode back here. 

A wholesome thread on r/homeless: https://www.reddit.com/r/homeless/comments/1fcpe9m/what_are_your_homeless_hobbies/ I see these folks as the few people who might have a chance to change from zombies back to humans. Like them, if I have to go to my Plan B, which is get a storage unit and sleep "wherever", maybe ultimately getting a car and living in the parking lot here, or renting a small office on 1st street, I'll have a lot of free time and honestly don't know if I'd spend it all on music or end up doing music and also some art. 

The emotional block against art is strong with me, but  I also have a lot more skill and appreciation of art than the average person. 

Mainly I'm just trying to keep Ken's business alive, keep my skills improving even if slowly on the horn, and doing the Jewish things. 

Some comments on my busking last night: That screaming guy is right, I should play some happier stuff too. And I think I may have busked the entire time with my damn fly open. Nothing to see but my sky-blue undies but it's not a good look. I believe Benny Goodman had one of his band tasked with making sure his fly wasn't down, so I guess I share something with the clarinet genius. 

Also, the nice lady who'd been "tabling" for Harris and whom   I talked with a bit, I'm pretty sure had dropped a $10. That's why I talked a fair bit with her. But when I looked, later, there was no $10 nor a $1 that was folded like the $10 had been. 

Now, one of my "visitors" was a young Hispanic guy who was in love with my playing. First he asked what my instrument was called. That's the level of musical knowledge these days. He loved the sound, and I said he could go to any music shop and rent a horn, and learn off of YouTube. He was up here from L.A., and had to go back down there to get some papers in order or something, and was killing time until his Greyhound left. He went away and them came back and more adulation, but I wonder if, when he came back, he started by dipping into my tip box and snagging that $10. I like to think either I only thought there was a $10, or if there had been and the kid snagged it, it's probably the only reason he was able to eat that night. His love for the trumpet sure seemed genuine, and he tossed change both visits, the 2nd time more, maybe it was the change from the $10. I hope he gets a horn and gives it a go. 

The water bottle rule

 Over the last few days I've done quite a bit of thinking about how I got kicked out of playing at the Campbell Whole Foods. I'm pretty certain the male Karen asked if I wanted water or anything as a test. And that the female Karen was lying through her yellowed teeth about not having him come to her and complain about me. 

So the rule from here on out is, if offered that classic charity move, a bottle of water, to accept. That gives the Karen offering nothing to bitch about and they get to be a hero and turn your entire life around by buying you a 78c bottle of water. At least that's how they'll see themself as they drive off in their $100k douchemobile. 

In all fairness, the sidewalk in front of the Campbell Whole Foods is a bit narrow and I always felt a bit odd busking there. That I got no complaints with Whole Foods personnel as well as everyone else parading back and forth in front of me made me think I was no problem. 

But this is Campbell. If you look at the demographics of this area, there are actually a lot of white people. So where are they? Because they're sure not downtown or in my usual haunts. The answer is, they're in places like Campbell. And white culture is big on backstabbing. It's almost a cornerstone of white culture. So there's no simply saying "Hey, we have rules against busking or petitioning here" they sent the male Karen to probe my defenses by offering something I really didn't need, like a bottle of water (as we say in busking land, a mild case of dehydration is your friend) and I, like an idiot, told the guy I actually eat and drink and brush my teeth etc., and am set to play without really needing anything, it's mainly just money I'm playing for. 

That's an Israeli level of directness. American white culture can't stand directness. It's always done in the backstabbing way. I remember a sergeant in the Army buddying up to me and offering to sell me a pair of boots he had (which I turned down for being too big) and behind my back he was complaining about me. Or my paternal grandmother, telling me to let her know when I'm ready to go to college and I could move to her place, live in a trailer in her yard, and go to college. But when the time came it was Sorry, fuck you, I've got mine etc. 

A classic example is when I left for the army in the first place. My WASP father said he'd drive me to the airport. My older sister, the Punahou snob, said she'd drive me to the airport. When I had to leave for the airport, neither of them showed up. We all lived in the same house and they were both off ... somewhere. Due to working at the local gas station I had some money and I called a cab and got myself to the airport. I never even got an apology from either of them either. 

A couple of days ago there was an interesting show on the radio where a lady was talking about how to deal with narcissists and it helped me understand some things. Like, as a kid I learned not to ask for anything because it would only give whoever  I was asking the pleasure of telling me, "Fuck you, I've got mine". In a narcissist society, I was actually standing up for myself in this way which is good but as the lady said, it's also bad because it keeps one from communicating and asking and finding people who will actually help. 

I think it's good to try to understand these things. For instance, I remember my mother as someone who could not keep friends, but she may have been stuck between a rock and a hard place. By her generation there may not have been much of the "old culture" to go back to, and the feeling that the old culture is old-fashioned and "square" and uncool and all that may have been very strong. Yet, getting along especially in Hawaii means being very Christian. Hawaii's like the South in that way. 

I think my mother was trying to reach back a bit to the old culture before we moved to Hawaii though. Hence my memory of her entertaining the older lady from Austria and talking about Israel. Hell that could be a reason Dad moved us to Hawaii - we'd be near his WASP aunt, our "Aunt Mary" who had this ghastly crucifix on her wall, right over her bed. And that much harder for Mom to take us kids and be off somewhere. 

Oh, the intrigues that happen in families! Father moving us to the middle of the Pacific to try to keep us together with him. Plus there's the theory my older sister holds that a friend of my father's, a Mr. B-, somehow defrauded my father of "all of his money" as if he had much of it. Programming computers is not a job that will get you anywhere, money-wise. 

So here's my Mom trying to befriend some neighbor, and pretty soon it's a literal "Come to Jesus" talk. We were recruited hard. One of my younger sisters went to Sunset Beach Christian School for a while on some kind of a scholarship (the was the "whitest" looking of all of us, taking after my father with big blue eyes, freckles, and brown hair with just a bit of curl) and the youngest got taken in by the extreme "born-again" type Christians, and these days, well, if there's ever a pogrom in Hawaii, I expect her to be as involved in it as she can be. 

Mom always thought Christianity was weird, and I still think it is. I remember when we were still living in Hawaii Kai, a Jewish lady started a deli in the nearby shopping center and mom used to hang out with her and talk. The deli had big Kosher dill pickles for 5c, and I remember standing on the street corner waiting for the light to change, just savoring one. So my mom sure seemed to gravitate toward Jewish folks. 

Trumpism. It's "Trumpism" on the radio, in the same way the Brits talked about "Hitlerism". We're in the nail-biting time. I was never this nervous about Y2K. I sold my guns to Ken with the idea that if it comes to where I need guns I should have been out of here by then. But now I just don't know. 

Today I decided I'd busk in the evening like I used to, when the wind's died down and it's a lot quieter, and cooler. I ended up feeling like I had tons of time, which I used to put more capacitors away, put things away, just general things around here. 

I decided I'd play the 7-9PM time slot, but actually got to Whole Foods at 7:30 and since I was all prepared, set up and started right in. It went slowly, but some interesting things happened. The first thing is, a big older SUV pulled up and its occupant took a ton of time to crawl out, barely being able to move apparently and using one of those walker things. I realized he was the skinny white guy who used to set up a table and big signs and hassle people with his begging and his extreme-right conspiracy theories. 

The guy hobbled into the store and a short while later hobbled out with some groceries. But he didn't leave. When a lady dropped a tip and we started talking about Harris, and then she left, he yelled out the window, "Did you hear about Harris?" I called back, "Yeah! She's running for President!" Then he yelled, over and over, "Harris! Hit and run!" I had no idea what he was talking, or more like shouting about, but was sure it was some kooky theory, so I started playing again, loudly .That shut him up. 

The thing is, he didn't drive off because he was probably planning to set up his Table 'O' Hate and was waiting for me to leave. Fine, I thought, I just won't leave. 

Next came the tweakers, a black/white couple, skinny and twitchy, with the (white) guy with his pants literally half off of his naked ass cheeks. They came around to bother me and I got my pepper spray out and held it in my hand. I said I didn't have any money, then the guy got offended and just wanted me to know I should play more Dylan. I did the old ignore-them-while-watching-them-carefully routine and since tweakers are short on patience, they eventually wandered off. 

And eventually, Grandpa Hate drove off too. Haha I hope I made his night. I had only maybe a half hour left at most, and I'm not sure I got a tip at all in the 2nd hour. Now I play some sad stuff, generally so sad it's sweet, or so sad it's funny like St. James Infirmary. A guy charging his SUV down at the other side of the parking lot didn't agree and screamed something like "DON'T PLAY THAT SAD MUSIC! I CAN'T HAVE IT IN MY LIFE!" so from there on I played happier things. I eventually had had enough at 9:45 and packed up. 

I'd made $19.74. And spent about $24 in Whole Foods so basically I'd gone out and gotten some practice in, bought some groceries, and my wallet was only about $5 lighter. 

And I found a bunch of books on the way home. Book run on Tuesday I think. 

I checked out this "Harris hit and run" thing and it's a hoax. Someone put some effort into it, setting up a Wordpress site that purports to be a California TV station but there's no such station, used some random photos, a fictional reporter, etc., and put this story on line then the fictitious TV station ceased to exist a few days later. This is the kind of shit the MAGA crowd falls for. I could try to tell him the story's not true when/if I see him again but I don't know if I will. I remember checking out something else bizarre he told me a while back and it was utter BS also. What a world that guy must live in. 

Saturday night Sept. 7

 I got things packed and got all the things done I had to, and got out of here at the usual time. At Whole Foods I saw they had "Baron Herzog" wine that was both Kosher and something called "Mevushal" which means it can be handled by non-Jews, essentially, and Kosher for Passover. And about $12 a bottle. 

What a great thing, I thought, to buy a bottle and take it to the service and people can have something that's not Manischewitz? Well, it was a great idea and I had fun helping Richard, the helper guy, pour it into all the little cups - I wanted to be generous so I put 2X the wine in each cup as usual. 

So we had our service and sang our cowboy songs and had a good ol' time, and then it was time for kiddush (wine) and ha-motzi (bread) and the wine... well ... someone said "You can tell it has tannins". I ended up talking with people and met an interesting guy who had acquired boxes and boxes of old Hawaiian stamps from Wells Fargo so now he's "the" big Hawaiian stamp expert. And he lives not all that far from here. He's also a fraud consultant for Ebay's coin and stamp group. I got his card. 

After talking a bit I was about ready to go and about half the red wine was still there in the little cups so I had another to really taste is and ... it's got this burned flavor that I don't like. That's probably why no one else wanted it that much. 

I rode over to Whole Foods and got a different bottle of wine because I had a bottle of Baron Herzog at home for my "good" Shabbat wine, and now I didn't want to drink the stuff. I got a bottle of pinot noir because I wanted to see what that was all about and it's OK, like cabernet without the bite. 

Today I read about half of "The Children Of Men" by PD James. I'm not sure if I'll ever get to see the movie so I might as well read the book. It's pretty good. 

Dancing and shofars, what's not to like?

 I wanted to wake up at 9. I actually woke up at ... noon. Luckily I had things pretty much singled out to list, and got 10 things ready and took the photos. Then I packed the things that have to get shipped out today, loaded up the bike, cleaned myself up, and was out the door at 3. 

I dropped off trash, dropped off the packages at the post office, went to the bank and deposited my check - their math and mine agreed to the penny - and then went to Whole Foods. I got ... wine, a little 4-pack of wine, a bottle of unsweetened tea, and a package of 365 brand beef jerky. 

The thing at the Addisonp-Penzak center started at 5, so I wanted something I could eat on the train. The whole day was stressful about whether I'd make it, and as I left the bank I realized I had a leak in the rear tire of my bike that went ft! ft! ft! But it was maintaining pressure and I think was the "leaf or something" that I thought was making that sound two days ago. So the Slime, a product I very heartily endorse, had been keeping me rolling all these last couple of days. I looked at the tire and there was a significant cut in it. Lovely. I just figured I'd go on and hopefully it'll be all right. 

So I rode over to the Diridon light rail stop and ... I've left my clipper card in the pocket of another shirt, that I wasn't wearing. I bought an 8-hour pass for $5 which is the same amount that would have come off my clipper card anyway. 

I rode down to the Winchester station, and rode south on Winchester Blvd. for a while until I came to a bus stop with some shade, no bench but a nice grassy bank to sit on. Probably the only place in the city of Campbell someone could loll around on the grass and not be arrested. I had some beef jerky and some tea, mixed with wine. It was a nice little break. Then I rode on, and found I'd actually gone most of the way I'd have to ride. I rode to the center, locked the bike to a tree, checked in and got my wrist band, and I was even early. 

There were a lot of booths set up on the (very large) lawn, tables and chairs, a stage, etc. The DJ played tons of songs from when I was in my 20s (pre-grunge). The booths were for all sorts of Jewish organizations, schools, camps, etc. A weightlifting club, a sort of political action group, etc. The funnest one was the Chabad one where they had a lot of ram's horns with the basic hole drilled, and it was a make your own shofar thing. They were all smaller than the one I've got, and it was mostly kids participating so I didn't want to "horn in" 

But I'd brought my own shofar and played that a bit here and there. I'm having trouble with the "teruah" the short choppy notes. But I didn't one perfect sequence, the tekiah, shivirim, teruah, and tekiah gadol, and right there at the Chabad booth so yay for that. It was so neat seeing the kids, some of them quite little, learning about the shofar and one kid, maybe 12, blew nice long note with wonderful tone. You gotta love Chabad, they had tefillin there and wrapped a few guys, had mezuzot, a tsadaka box, and for some reason those little tubes of honey and honey stirrers.

I'd signed up for a chicken dinner which was chicken in barbecue sauce, an ear of roasted sweet corn, and a slice of watermelon. I ate about half the chicken, had some of the corn, and had a Coke Zero. 

Eventually it came to the core of the event, which was one of the rabbis sounding the shofar, kind of "eh" but the shofar seems to humble a lot of people. And then a song with the guitar, then it was back to music but then there started some Russian sounding music and dancing by some Russian Jewish girls that was really cool. It was to recorded music but the first dance's music had some great trumpet in it. 

After the Russian gals did a few dances (and were probably pretty tired) there was a pause and then some other songs were played and some people were called up by name to dance, and it was Israeli dancing. That was fun to watch; it was on the lawn not the stage and more people kept joining and the circle kept getting bigger. 

I'm not sure my back is up to it yet, but once I feel tip top again I want to try out the Israeli dancing that's held at my temple on Wednesday nights I think. As they say it's not only fun and a good workout, but it's political and when there's a victory for Jews, the dances will break out. 

I also got a ton of literature, spun the wheel where it says to do this or that exercise and then you get to choose a prize, so for 5 push-ups I got a nice water bottle. And I got a big "Repair The World" bag that I'll find useful. 

The Addison-Penzak center is great and there, you can hear people speaking Hebrew. If I lived closer I'd probably consider joining. 

Last night I'd told Ken that due to my social class, I don't get vacations (he didn't even blink at this) and I realized a few years ago that if you're working class, the best thing you can do to stay sane is to join a religion, hopefully one with lots of holidays, because while there are no protections for vacations, there are protections against religious persecution. It's not like England, I said, where workers get holidays. I said that I felt a lot less like a "burnout burger" since I've been taking Fridays off and going to Jewish things. I think he understands this. 

The ride back was pleasant, and the ride on the green train back to Diridon not bad. When I got off at Diridon, there was a big black guy who rushed up, and tried to shout through the window to the driver, to hold up a few minutes while he gets his stuff - his stuff being a plastic trash can on the ramp. I don't think the driver was going to do this so I stopped with my bike on the track to check something with my kick stand, and the train operator honked at me, then honked longer, but by that time the guy had dragged his trash can to do door, at least I hoped. I hate to piss off a VTA driver but why wreck a guy's life? 

The ride back from Diridon was nice, too, and I found several books. Through all this the bike tire's held but I'm not counting on it.