Daily Archives: October 8, 2013

I wonder if we oldsters are different

Hi readers.

The representative democracy elected government useless eaters and the various space aliens running things know younger people are nothing but a bunch of sheep trapped in career paths, credit ratings and compulsive consumerism.  They know most of them have never stepped far outside the boundaries of control-created behavior and never will.  They know their heads are loaded with frenzied propaganda-induced rabidity of opinion safely within the fences.

But what those useless eaters in the White House, Congress, and all the societal traps of career paths have never been is old, been-there-done-that on most things, and trapped in promises made by useless eaters of the past.  Promises that if we handed over pieces of our incomes for half-century, they’d set it aside, nurture it, and feed it back to us when we got too old to make a living.  One month at a time, every month.

Come rain, shine, four horsemen of the whatchallit, apocalypse, Chinese invasion of toasters, utopian government sawbones free-for-alls, Drug Wars, supporting our Freedom Fighters against their Terrorists, whatever.

We oldsters have broken enough promises in our lives to recognize what a broken promise looks like.  And a lot more of us than anyone might imagine don’t have a lot to lose.  Whole different animal from those on the under-side of 65 circuits around Old Sol.

Some of us also have a mean-streak we’ve gone to a lot of trouble to subdue during our lives.  And some of us probably figure when it comes time to get off the pavement going through the fence is as good as going over it.

I say this because of the workings of my own, personal mind.  And that doesn’t assume the way my mind works necessarily rhymes with the workings of the minds of others in my situation.

For myself, I’ve got three cats I’ve got a contract to feed as long as I’m alive to do it.  It’s a contract I hold dear, as important to me as anything in my reality.  Those cats are going to eat one way or another, so long as anyone in the United States has a plate of food in front of him.  So long as I have the ability to make it happen, by any means whatsoever.

The promises made back when I was feeding the US government pieces of my income and trusting them to set them aside were written into law, and those laws haven’t changed.  But when the US government jumps the tracks and becomes a legion of lawbreakers and the laws they break influence whether my cats eat, all bets are off. 

The government can prove by prima faci evidence they didn’t mean it when they made their laws.  But they can’t do it surgically, selectively.  If the laws don’t apply to them, they don’t apply to anyone.  Not just the laws they picked to break, but all the laws on the books.

But hell, that’s just one old guy saying it.  What the hell do I know?

Old Jules

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Screwdrivers ain’t what they used to be

Hi readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

I spent most of the day yesterday trying to fix the rear door on this cargo trailer I swapped from Gale.  When he was backing it up an innocuous righteously small cedar tree got in the way and it poked a less-than-righteous hole in the door.  Easy enough to fix, thinks I.

But fixing it involved removing a lot of screws holding the door together, which revealed an engineering problem with the way the stop to hold the door open was installed when the trailer was built.  Some genius put it at the bottom of the door so’s everytime the door swung open and hit it, gradually it destroyed the structural member at the bottom of the door.

The long lever arm at the top of the door kept pushing when the bottom of the door stopped, and all that energy was transmitted to the bottom of the hinge every time the door experienced an uncontrolled swing to the stop.

Heluva deal.  The internal structure of the door at the bottom of the hinge is requiring some innovative changes, along with adding a new stop at the top to keep it from happening in the future. 

But naturally, that ain’t all.  The screws holding the entire skin together, the hinge attachment to the door and trailer, everywhere a screw is, involves screws with little star-shaped holes in them instead of hex-head, phillips, or flathead.

Ended up putting vice-grips on the heads to loosen them enough to twist them out.  Those I could get vice grips on.  But hell, me being the useless eater I am, it ain’t a big deal for a job to take two, three, four days that ought to take a couple of hours.

The cats don’t mind and the government’s shut down anyway.  Not much point doing anything exciting when the government’s shut down.

At least not until they shut it down long enough to force me to stick up banks to buy cat food and Smack Raman.   Seems the useless eaters in the White House and US Congress have decided useless eaters on Social Security pensions are up for grabs to be held hostage on whatever-the-hell it is they’re up to.

Never stuck up a bank, though I have done a good many other things in my life.  The cats and I are looking forward to expanding our horizons.

Old Jules