A better class

"I just don't know about those new people who moved into the Weavers' old place."
    "What's wrong with them?"
"I think they might be Episcopalian."
    "What? No!"
"I think they are."
    "Who would believe it? In this day and age!"
"They've got that little Episcopalian sticker on their car."
    "Well my word! Them and their bishops and their archbishops."
"Not like us. Not like us at all!"
    "I should say not!"
"And their young one. I don't even like to say it!"
    "Say what?"
"I think he may be..."
    "May be what?"
"May be a mandolinist."
    "No!"
"I think he is."
    "A mandolinist! In this neighborhood! It doesn't bear thinking about."
"What is the world coming to?"
    "What indeed? Where will it all end?"
"They just aren't like us."
    "Not like us at all!"
"And I think... I think I saw Osmond Brothers records."
    "Osmond Brothers records?"
"Who still has Osmond Brothers records?"
    "I still have 'One Bad Apple.'"
"Well of course. EVERYBODY still has 'One Bad Apple.' But it's weird to have any other Osmond Brothers records."
    "They might be valuable."
"They might be. But it isn't like us."
    "Oh no. Not like us at all."
"And there's another sticker on the car that says they're in the country club."
    "Oh good heavens. Not that!"
"Oh how I hate those country club people. Always looking down on everybody and finding fault. Not like us."
    "No, not like us at all."

Tomorrow: Serendipity

Ding Dong the flag is dead

    Well that was quick. In the end, getting the flag down from the State House grounds went pretty quickly indeed. Just discussing what to call it might take longer than the actual process did. It is not in fact the Confederate flag, as that was three other ones. It isn't the battle flag, strictly speaking, as it's just the Army of Northern Virginia flag. (It isn't the flag of your ancestors then unless they were in the Army of Northern Virginia; apparently 1/8 of that army was from South Carolina, so it's possible. But not what you'd call likely.) I'll just call it the thing in the museum. (Flag supporters probably should have renamed the Confederate Relic Room while they were at it.)
    Sure I feel good about it. It's nice that the thing is finally down. However, I don't think I'm going to join in on breaking my arm patting my fellow white South Carolinians on the back for finally fixing a problem we created ourselves that we should have never done in the first place. The fact that nine people including a sitting state senator had to die before the governor and general assembly noticed that "Hey! We might have a public relations problem!" kind of undercuts their heroism. Yes Nikki Haley and Jenny Horne did well. Yes, after members of both houses took advantage of worldwide coverage to show their asses thoroughly, the general assembly did the right thing. But I would feel better and prouder if they could have done it with Senator Clementa Pinckney still alive to lead the fight and vote by their side.
    Still and all, it was a great moment. It was fun being there the moment it came down, hearing and joining in on the cheer. Now maybe they can do something substantive, like, I dunno, expand Medicaid.
    Tomorrow: Fiction. (Did he say "fiction"? I think he said "fiction." Yes, fiction!)

Drone reborn

    So my friend Bruce came around some weeks ago with a soldering iron and changed out all the motors for the old original drone. Alas, when all that was done, it still wouldn't fly. the new motors spun like crazy, but fly it would not do.
    Yesterday, I noticed something that I should have noticed before. Moreover, I should have figured it out before. What I should have figured out was that if two of the motors go clockwise and two counter-clockwise (they do), the propellers ought to be different. What I should have noticed before was that they ARE different. Each propeller has a warning label affixed to it. ("Do not grab these, Enrique Iglesias.") On some they're on the left; on some they're on the right. When I put them with the labels where they are on the picture on the box, miracle of miracles: a flying drone again! Yes, I really am that dumb.
    Also, when we were doing all the taking apart, I thought that the screws (all tiny) were interchangeable. This turned out not to be the case. Some have bigger heads in order to, you know, hold the propellers on. But I took the thing apart again and put it back together and didn't find any more big head screws. Nor did we lose any screws. (If anything, we gained one.) So I just can't figure it. Having had one propeller fly off by itself due to the littler screw not holding it on, I tried the (hopefully) clever trick of inventing a tiny washer through use of a tiny piece of aluminum foil. Can't hurt, anyway.
    Point is, the old original drone is back, better than ever, and looking for a tree to crash into. Huzzah!
    Tomorrow: Look Ma! No Flag!

My lord and master pernil

    I've been trying for ages to find an ideal venue for Drinking Liberally. This is not surprising. Bars are not made for discussion groups. Though we are not primarily a discussion group, it's nice to hear what everybody is saying. Or at least to be able to hear what everybody is saying if you want to. This is normally impossible in a bar. It's especially impossible in the kind of dive that national DL would prefer that we meet in to keep costs low for potential new members. So it's been frustrating.
    Membership too started slipping when Obama took office, as people no longer had the "OMG! What has this idiot Bush done NOW?!" motivation for getting together. And of course I'm a jerk. So there aren't many of us. The steadiest attendees live in or near the northeast part of town. So there was a suggestion that we try to find a venue in that direction. So I tried Los Bellos Portales, primarily a Puerto Rican place.
    Oh my freakin' gosh! The first time I went, I ordered mofongo, fried plantains, with steak and onions. I liked the steak and onions a lot but was not as overwhelmed as I was hoping to be by the mofongo. (It's crazy fun to say "mofongo," though.) However, for the first actual meeting there, I ordered pernil. Roast pork butt, what's exotic about that, right? It was devastatingly heavenly kookoo awesome! As a plus, I didn't get sick in any way either time in spite of not having mentioned gluten at all. Now, I don't know if people in general are going to make the trip to the edge of town for Puerto Rican food and political discussion. The probability is that I'll be moving back to town pretty soon. But for a short minuts, what a great venue I've found!
    Tomorrow: the drone RETURNS!

Deef

    I think I've mentioned already that should I want to sleep on my side, it has to be the left one because if I sleep on the right my right ear gets stopped up. This morning, it was stopped up anyway. So I broke out the peroxide and addressed matters. Since my left was fine, I wasn't even going to bother with it, but did so out of some kind of dedication to parallelism. Now my right ear is totally clear. And my left is totally stopped up. It's OK; all I need is an airplane ride or a quick trip to the mountains. (Seriously, I'm sure it will clear up shortly. Pretty annoying in the meantime, though.)
    Tomorrow: my lord and master Pernil!

Maybe I should put off my procrastinating

    I haven't been covering myself in glory all year, pretty much putting off every important thing I should be doing... indefinitely. However, one thing i ought to be able to manage is vacuuming. In a house with kitties (and a carpet and an allergy), not vacuuming is not an option. And yet, I even manage to put that off. This morning, I got around to it after a week and a half. Eyes might start getting less red and itchy up in here.
    One thing I notice is that my anxiety seems to be quieted by my constant trips to Goodwill. Some talk of retail therapy. Since I hardly ever buy anything, this is more like Turning Up My Nose At Stuff therapy. However, I found "Prehistory of The Far Side" yesterday. The checker asked if it was a kid's book; it made a difference of 50 cents in the price. I wasn't worried about it one way or another but didn't want to presume, so I just said, "If you say it is." Pretty cool buy for 50 cents or a dollar.

Mr. Arm, Mr. Hammer: get to work!

    It took me a ridiculously long time to notice that indicator toothbrushes don't indicate anything if you use baking powder instead of toothpaste. The colored bristles must react to fluoride or something. Anyway, they don't react to baking soda. My brush can be frayed as anything and the blue bristles are just as blue and pretty as when I bought it.
    This is an opportunity! Arm & Hammer need to get on the stick! Indicator toothbrushes for those who prefer baking soda! Granted, there are only about seven of us, but c'mon! We're suckers; we'll pay top dollar. You'll make a fortune!:)