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!