In 1965 I was nineteen and living in a rundown little dive in Chico, CA with my best friend, Crazy Louie. We dumpster dived at night to furnish it and it's where I learned the pleasures of tomato sandwiches. One day we decided to hitch-hike to Mexico so we packed up a couple suitcases and headed south out of town with about $40 bucks between us.
In Tijuana we hit the bars and started drinking. When we ran out of money we sold our American made clothes from our suitcases to Mexicans on the street for pesos. In one bar we met an American who offered to drive us to Ensenada, so as the sun was rising, we took off. Along the way we picked up some Mexican hitch-hikers and we're all getting drunker on a bottle of something the stranger had in his car.
When we got to Ensenada, Louie was passed out and the stranger suggested he and I walk in opposite directions around the town square looking for the best bar, and meet on the other side. We took off and he never showed. I continued around the block and the stranger, the car, Louie and our suitcases, were gone. I was alone, broke, drunk and stranded in Ensenada, Mexico.
To be continued...
I helped a young family member get a job the other day, questioned his integrity to the parents, and now I'm on their shitlist. Pulled the job offer...
My cat Piper is missing. She went out last night and she's always ready to come in when I get up but she wasn't there this morning, or all day. It's now evening, it's raining and she hates rain, but she still ain't home. She is my partner, I would be heartbroken to lose her.
Things are pretty fucked up at the moment.
There was actually a fine moment down on the creek today. We had a father and son hit the creek right at the end of our 1500 deadline. Stormy afternoon, they probably shouldn't have gone in, but what the hell. I'm down at the pickup spot anxious to get these boys home and it's raining hard. I did something I never do and walked down the creek toward the highway bridge and there they were, struggling but having fun. I called out and they made their way to the bank where a couple of rocks offered an exit from the creek. The good old boy tossed the tubes to me and I extended my hand to both of them as they exited the creek with gratitude.
They didn't know me, and when I put my arm out to pull them up a precarious embankment, it was a moment of blind trust in your fellow man to make it happen. I pulled both up strongly, with smiles on their faces.
Update: Piper is home!
I added a line of code to my Place app today and then killed it. It reads: This app has had 624,023 hits and not one person has sent a thanks or dropped a dime in my PayPal, so I'm shutting it down. Have a nice day.
I also hauled a bunch of falling down drunks off the creek last night at 1815 after eating a beany weany from my truck for dinner. I also killed my Facebook this morning. Hello world...
Update: I'm also considering not renewing my top-level domain which is the mother from which all of my apps exist. It costs around $150 a year to keep it going and I have countless domains and code projects flowing from it, which cost $15 each. Letting it die would negate all of the code I have written for the last fifteen years. I have to look myself in my minds eye and ask myself what fucking difference would it make.
Excuse me while I do that...
Ok. Nothing... I never get feedback from anything. I have no idea how people out there are using my stuff, and without feedback, it's empty.
Killing the top-level domain would bring both busdriverjim.com and oldmanjim.com to a screeching halt, along with every app I've ever written. My presence on the internet would cease to exist.
Anyone reading this right now specifically came here to my blog, as there is no Facebook click bait to get you here otherwise, so I ask you: Stay or Die?
The new drop spot works well:
Here's the pickup spot:
Here's our flags at the pickup spot along with my new landmark, the stack of trees:
My boss Ricky dropped by the house last night to tell me about the new route, starting today. The drop spot is still a little unclear, I need to check it out, but the pickup spot looks workable.
From the base (red dot) I'll hang a right out onto the highway, take another right past the water tank and swing around towards the creek. If I'm on a drop run I'll inform my tubers that this is the spot to get out at, continue on to the highway, take a left and on to the drop. Otherwise I'll enter the little round-about, load them up, proceed around the loop, hang a left, back to the highway and on to base.
Update: Ricky read this and added: You can also point out the alley way up to the store by our base in case they would like to walk back with the tubes if you get busy and take longer than they want to wait. Or you can tell them they are welcome to play in the creek till you get back to pick them up.
I installed an app called Walk to my phone today and then took a short stroll down along the creek to check it out.
I love this thing!
My down home born and raised Tennessee neighbor Daniel was explaining to me what a Cracker was. It was a white slave owner who cracked the whip over his slaves. Wow, I'd heard the phrase before but never knew the origin. I was called a Honky a lot back in my Oakland, CA days but I still don't know what that means.
I have also determined that I can completely remove the EGR valve from my Weber carb converted truck engine, slap a plate over the hole, and complete the total removal of all evil emission controls. I think this makes me a Whacker.
The exhaust gas recirculation (EGR) valve recirculates a portion of your exhaust back into the combustion process. How sick is that?
When I tell people where to get out after a float I tell them to look for the rocky beach and our flags up in a tree. Sometimes the people in the back are so engaged in their own loud conversation that they don't hear me.
In which case they end up floating right on by into the dark hole of Shoal Creek and like that Kingston Trio song M.T.A. they never return...
I've been creating a flyer for my employer this morning and just got an IM from Melissa with a shot of this weeks front page of our local newspaper.
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