B Bird's the Word

Sarasota, Florida

This bird lives in the ditch in front of the RV. It fishes all day.


A-well-a everybody's heard about the bird
Bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a don't you know about the bird?
Well, everybody's talking about the bird!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird...


Surfin' bird
Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb... [retching noises]... aaah!

Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow

Firefox?

Sarasota, Florida

This is supposed to be just a travel blog.

The problem with that is that, for assorted personal reasons, Mrs. Phred and I don't travel much in the winter. So...other subjects creep in: economics, fish recipes, limited computer geeky stuff and general rants. I feel the need to share my painfully accumulated wisdom with the world.

So, speaking of tech stuff, the new Dell laptop keeps crashing internet explorer every 15 minutes or so. I downloaded the free Mozilla Firefox browser which has a surprising 21% market share.

The download went well and Firefox imported all my Internet Explorer favorites, cookies and homepage. So far it hasn't crashed and it politely draws a little red line under any words that I misspell. I like the interface, which, among other things, has a Refresh page icon that I was missing in the latest Internet Explorer browser.

It's free. It's better.

Riding the Long Wave

Pompano Beach, Florida

The Mayans had a ceremony for it. Every 52 years they would forgive debts and burn possessions to ensure the return of the sun and let the good times roll again.

Then there was Nicholai Kontradieff. Nicholai worked as a Soviet central planner in the 1930s. By plotting worldwide price levels and economic activity over a 200 year period, he became convinced that there was a longwave of capitalist economic activity and that things collapsed every 50 to 70 years in a kind of nuclear winter lasting about 15 years.



Kontradieff believed that this periodic collapse, accompanied by deflation, called the Kontradieff Wave, was caused by an unsustainable increase in debt levels. The Soviets threw him in prison, where he died. Part of his theory was that the Winter of the wave paved the way for capitalist economic renewal. This did not sit well with Marxist theory or Uncle Joe.

So, as the chart above reveals, we've increased debt levels to almost 350% of our annual Gross Domestic Product. Were I the Grand Economic Poobah, I could see only three ways out of the current dilema:
1. Pay it down.
2. Default.
3. Inflate it away.
Guess which one they will try?

By the way, the first spike on this chart to a debt/GDP level of 260% was 1929.

We've done a kind of smoke-and-mirrors trick with countries like Japan and China where we take their manufactured goods and convince them to hold our paper. Cheap debt provided by China and the Arabs has created a series of bubbles in dot.com, equities, commodities, housing, debt, oil and now government securities.

The debt crisis, credit crisis and economic crisis were merely the opening acts in the approaching end of the long wave. The big crisis will be the currency crisis. This will begin to unravel in the next few months as creditor Nations begin to realize that they are holding huge amounts of dollars and British pounds that won't buy much of anything of value and all head for the exits at once. The music will stop and there won't be any chairs.

It's time to invest in guns, gardening tools, seeds and dirigible stamps. It was swell while it lasted. I thought 1974 was the wave, but now I know that the mother-of-all Kontradieff waves is about to hit the beach.

How's that for mixed metaphors?

Break Out the Toboggan

Sarasota, Florida

Happy days are here again,
the skies above are clear again,
so let’s sing a song of cheer again,
happy days are here again

The toboggan sits in a little consignment shop in Tampa, Florida. It's one of those useless things that people drag to Florida when they move, like the snow shovels that I've found dumpster diving.

I ask about the price and negotiate it down to almost nothing. The wood strips are alternately dark and light. It has a detachable green canvas cushion. The bottom is a little scraped up from running over rocks, I think.

I take it into my workshop and sand it down and then apply dark and light stain to restore the appearance. I finish it with three coats of varnish, use pumice to smooth it out and reattach the cushion. It's a beauty...a little extra Christmas present.

The toboggan stands in my grandchildren's living room for over three years. I guess they like it well enough to use it as sort of a room decoration.

The oldest called me yesterday. He wants to show us the four inches of snow on his Skype program. Break out the toboggan!

The Reunion Happens

Melbourne, Florida

Family reunions used to attract more people. We have a photo of a 1929 reunion in Ithaca, New York with about 80 in attendance. Mobility in the 20th century has fragmented American families. It's much harder to get a big attendance now. The 1929 photo shows Uncle Bert, staring out with James Dean's intensity and charisma.

My three cousins and I were all born within two months in 1943 while our fathers were in Europe or the Pacific. The three Robinson brothers and their little sister, my mother, all produced offspring before going overseas. This picture was probably taken 61 years and 23 days ago on Christmas day, 1947. I'm the handsome one on the left in both photos below.



We try to get together every five or ten years. Here we are again, yesterday, without the coyboy outfits. The cutie just to my right in both photos is cousin Kate. The strangest thing that happened to us was attending basic training in the Air Force at the same moment in 1963 and going together to see a movie at Lackland Air Force Base.



Jeff and Everett are to our right. We're all veterans, I think, like our fathers. My favorite niece came to the reunion. There is no one there near her age so we spend a long time playing darts, fooseball and talking. She's a sweetie and gives me a long hug at the breakfast after the reunion. That's Mom in the background. She's in the 1929 photo as well.



We managed to sqeeze in a trip to the Melborne Musuem of Art to see an Annie Liebowitz photo display of women. It was enough to make me feel very humble. I really liked the picture of Sigorney Weaver and the one of Oprah Winfrey. They didn't allow photograpy, so here is a picture of a plant growing outside the Melborne museum.

Voicemail Purgatory

Last month I purchased a Dell 1536 laptop after my old Acer died once too many times. It's a nice machine that lets me videoconference and logs me in to all my places with a fingerprint scan...how cool is that?

My trusty old color printer wouldn't print with it so I bought a new Lexmark all-in-one copier/scanner/printer. That wouldn't print either (but it would copy and scan) so I took it back...Alas...without the box, no refund. I thought maybe it was a firewall issue so I turned off the Windows firewall and uninstalled Mcaffee anti-virus...no help there.

Yesterday I boought a third printer, a Hewlett-Packard all-in-one. Again it installed perfectly and could copy and scan, but not print.

After three printers that won't print, but otherwise communicate fine with the laptop, I'm concluding that its the Dell 1536 laptop at fault. I try to do a "chat" with a Dell technician, but their system won't talk to Google, so I reluctantly pick up the cell phone.

I call Dell and they send me to India where I talk to a computer for a long while. I have to hold the laptop over my head with one hand to read the tiny ten digit service code on the bottom while holding the cell phone in the other hand. The computer can't seem to understand my voice so it puts me on hold for a long time waiting for a person.

I get a nice lady with a strong accent. Eventually I get the problem over to her and she spends ten minutes updating my personal information while I'm on hold. She gives me a ten digit customer number and tells me to remember it somewhere.

Then the first lady transfers me to a "technician". I go on hold again. Finally the "technician" picks up and we spend some time discussing the problem. Finally he tells me that I have to talk to a "North American" software specialist and...get this...PAY FOR SUPPORT.

I guess I'm sounding a little annoyed at this turn of events, because he wants me to talk to his manager....I spend another five minutes on hold and go though the same issues again with the "manager" ...Yes, you have to pay he says...Then I really get placed on a LONNNG hold for "North American Support" and hear the same message repeated about 5,000 times...."Do you want help loading your digital pictures...blah! blah! Please have your credit card ready."

Eventally, after 30 minutes, the voice goes silent and I lose the call...back to square one.

I Google "Dell 1536 unable to print documents" and come back with something on the Dell support database that tells me I've bought two unnecessary printers, and spent many unnecessary hours because Dell doesn't give simple performance checks to their stuff before they ship it....

AAARGGGHHH! They program in a problem and want to be PAID to fix it. We have a word for that in English. It's spelled F..R..A..U..D..

Dell Studio™ 1536 Is Unable to Print Documents
Journal ID: 09013GSKT8
Article ID: 346620
Date Published: 12/19/2008
Last Revised: 12/19/2008

Article Summary: This article describes how to resolve printing issues when the Dell Studio 1536 is unable to print documents. Studio 1536 may not be able to print out documents or have error messages while printing, although the printer has been installed and recognized to be fine. This issue is observed with both Dell™ and non-Dell USB connected printers.

The issue is seen with Dell 946, 968, V105, V305 and V505 All-in-One (AIO) inkjet printers. Other models which are not listed in this article may also report the same issue. When the issue occurs, an error message Communication Error will pop up for printing jobs. It works fine while a scanning job.

» Uninstall AMD USB Audio Driver Filter

To Uninstall AMD USB Audio Driver Filter

_Click the Start button, and then click Control Panel.
_In the Control Panel window, click Programs and then open Programs and Features.
_Select AMD USB Audio Driver Filter, and then click Uninstall.
_Restart the system when the uninstallation is finished.
(Uninstalling the AMD USB audio driver does not impact systems with Microsoft® Windows Vista® Service Pack 1 installed).

My first print job is a long letter to Michael Dell...I feel better now...

A Day at the Beach

Siesta Key Beach, Sarasota

With a wind off the Gulf, a temperature 0f 70 degrees F. and sunny blue skies, Mrs. Phred kept saying things today about paradise...



There were a lot of dead fish on the beach. I don't think it was Red Tide. The scavenger gulls were feasting.

And it really didn't have to stop...it just kept on going.
And so castles made of sand slips into the sea,
Eventually
- Jimi Hendrix

Hope springs eternal...this guy had two poles, a cooler full of sandwiches and a large supply of Pabst Blue Ribbon.



Sometimes you see disturbing things on the beach. This looked like a chunk of human flesh, but I think, after touching it with a toe, that it's just a piece of soft coral that broke loose and washed up on the beach.



We used to have a Miami band called "Dead German Tourist". They were formed because German tourists kept making the mistake of turning into Liberty City in Miami on their trip between the Miami airport and Miami Beach. At the time, rental cars had special licence plates...that was a little like wearing a sign on your back saying, "shoot me".



I'm trying to talk Mrs. Phred into three months in a Maui condo next winter so that she can gain some perspective on paradise. I stopped in Honolulu about 50 times on trips to SE Asia and back. It was always delightful...Even so, Sarasota has some lovely beaches. They rate among the ten best in the world...Don't know who gets to decide...Today they were crowded with snowbirds, locals, seagulls and live German tourists.

Gran Torino

Clint Eastwood does it again with a portrayal of a misanthropic, foul-mouthed. 80-year old, retired Ford auto worker and disturbed Korean war veteran. Clint is living alone in a Detroit neighborhood, surrounded by Hmong immigrants and other minorities.

Don't miss this one. Definitely 5 stars... Oscar material.

Clint's wonderful facial expressions and blue collar dialog reminds you of Dirty Harry, The Unforgiven and "the man with no name" spaghetti Westerns....GET. OFF. MY. LAWN. he says to the Detroit gang bangers. After kicking and beating the bloody beejesus out of a bad kid, he snarls "If I have to come back, things are going to get ugly." When he gets out of his truck to confront a bunch of delinquents, he has a big monkey wrench stuck in his belt...reminded me of the 2AM nocturnal walks Mrs. Phred and I used to take downtown by the docks with the ice tongs in my belt...In the end, Clint achieves a state of grace...mostly.

The only trouble I have with the movie is the inadequate five-round clip in his ancient M-1 Garand.

Today, after seeing the movie, I went online and ordered two new 40-round clips for my M-1 carbine...when they get here I'll tape them together and face the world with the two banana clips and 80 rounds taped together. My old 30-round banana clips seem to be suffering from inadequate spring tension...I can sympathize....Although I read thats common when you load them with more than 25 rounds ...Who knows when one might encounter a platoon of Viet Cong burglars in the night?...you need more than bananas...

Lazy Daze

Sarasota, Florida

We went to a "Shul" in Tampa yesterday. It for was a memorial service for Max who was 92 when he passed away. I met the Rabbi. He was the first one I've met since our wedding in 1966.

Mrs. Phred whispers that I need to read the book backwards. I already knew that, of course.

I Google "Shul" and find it is a word (meaning place of learning) for "Temple" used by certain Jewish sects. There is a pile of yarmulkes in a box at the front door and I know enough to pick one out (black) and wear it on my head. I wear the gray suit that I keep in the RV for weddings and funerals. The mourners are dressed in surprisingly casual fashion, many in jeans and tennis shoes. They are mostly older, like us. Refreshments are served after the service. Mrs. Phred knows a surprising number of the mourners.

The "reader" sang most of the service. He had a lovely voice. Max was an interesting guy, a newspaperman, father of a friend. I always enjoyed talking to him during his visits to Tampa.

I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Good-bye Max.
Good-bye Ma.
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream
- Pink Floyd "The Gunners Dream"

We spent a lazy day establishing the places we want to see in Spain: Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Granada, Rhonda, Seville, Las Pueblos Blancos, Toledo. I'm still considering trains vs. a rental car. Usually we like the flexibility of a car.

I picked up the ingredients for my vegetarian chili in the morning and cooked a big pot. We ate a little over Omega 3 enriched spaghetti. Here's the deal (but Mrs. Phred won't eat it with the Cayenne Pepper so I sprinke some Louisiana hot sauce on mine):

olive oil
1-2 large yellow onions, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 red pepper, diced fairly large
1 green pepper, diced fairly large
2 28-oz. cans crushed tomatoes
1 T. cumin
1 tsp. cayenne (or to your taste)
1 package frozen corn
2 to 3 cans black beans (or other kinds of beans, garbanzo, kidney, northern are good)
1.5 C. picante sauce
salt to taste
grated cheddar, if desired

Saute onions in the olive oil.
Add garlic a bit later.
After onion and garlic are have turned golden brown, add cumin & cayenne, and fry for a couple of minutes.

Next, add the peppers, saute them for a few minutes.
Put the crushed tomatoes, corn, beans and picante sauce into the crock pot, and add the onion and garlic mixture.

Cook on low about 10 hours.

Serve in bowls and sprinkle on grated cheddar

Squabbles of the Old

Sarasota, Florida

It's characteristic of large collections of old people that they will organize themselves into warring factions and spend their time and energy making each other miserable.

You can see it in condominium associations. It is the reason we would never consider living in one.

Tennis is a big activity here. The six tennis courts may be the main reason that many snowbirds pick this place to spend the winter.

The better players tended to play "social tennis" in the allotted time in the morning at the three courts up by the "street". The duffers, like me, play at the at the three "dog courts" by the dog exercise compound. It was all a self-selecting process which worked pretty well in my view.

I never paid attention to this, but somehow an "executive tennis board" was formed. It's headed by a person I never met. I think he's a retired grade school Principal or some such. His organizational abilities are doubtful. When a new player is added to the list of 140 or so players he sends you the single name rather than an updated list. He also uses the list to circulate tasteless jokes and for unrelated business matters. I put him in my spam filter months ago.

They have divided the players into two lopsided groups. Lets call these groups the "elite" and the "losers".

The 90 people or so rated as "losers" are only permitted to play social tennis in the mornings at those times when the approximately 40 "elites" are not scheduled to play. If you walk up to try to play round robin with the "elites" and you are a "loser" they tell you that you are not good enough, go away.

My friend, an "elite", witnessed two old tennis players being denied play and walked out in protest today. Both were older, in their seventies and had failed to read the e-mails announcing the unneeded changes in play. I think he's going to join a tennis association "off campus", as he would say.

I feel guilty about the stong stand my friend took. Just the previous evening I told him that the only thing need for evil to triumph was for good men to do nothing.

Mrs. Phred attended the meeting where these changes were suggested and decided. She had the impression that most in attendance did not understand what they where voting on, like the confused old Jewish people down in Palm Beach who voted for Pat Buchanan on the Butterfly ballot. She voted against the changes, but they now describe them as unanimous and complain that some do nor "respect" the decision. Respect! Paugh!

Never live in a community run by elected and retired old people. They have too much time on their hands to organize and promulgate unnecessary rules. No pickup trucks in the driveway and stuff like that. True, I could easily organize a Coup d'état and change the rules back... it wouldn't really be a competition... but then I'd be just like them, thoughtless and domineering... worse, I'd have to organize the tournaments... as Pogo the possum once thoughtfully said, "We have met the enemy, and he is us."

The highway beckons...