I may be running out of ideas, but he isn't

I really had nothing to say today, and was not planning on posting. I was perusing Oppo and the morning news as I do every day, outside with a nice cup of black coffee. This is the view from where I sit.


Then this.

Boy, do I love my dog, but dammit Toby....

He is playing with an adapter for my pool wlsweep that helps keep the line from getting twisted. I needed to purchase a particular type of hose to use it, but I guess that is out the door. That won’t be happening.

Last night, I attended alcohol server training put on by ABC. It is a requirement to volunteer for the marching band’s biggest fundraiser, handling drink concessions for concerts, Fresno State football, and other local events. It was four hours to explain “check everyone’s ID carefully” and “don’t serve drunk people.” It was painful.


Did you know I was a bartender in law school? I put my life’s savings at the time, a princely sum of $5000, into a bar owned by my roommate, and I worked there. This was a terrible idea. In theory, it should have worked.

We were in small town Vermont, where in the 90s there was a bizarre proliferation of old Saabs and Peugeots for reasons that remain a mystery. This was real Vermont, not Burlington or Middlebury or some other hippie haven. In South Royalton, the rednecks outnumbered the hippies. (I will qualify this story by pointing out that this was over 20 years ago and I have no idea about present conditions) Especially in the winter, alcoholism was the primary activity in the town, and we were the local dive that primarily served the townsfolk. There was a bar across the way that catered to the law students, but the owner’s cocaine problem took that place down (allegedly).


Our bar was a shithole, but it was a busy shithole. But my roommate was a terrible businessman, and I lost my entire investment, as I deserved. I drank for free through law school, so I suppose I both got my money’s worth and hurt my investment. He was supposed to buy me out when I graduated, but that was not to be. He cut off contact when I went back to California, and closed the bar a couple of years later. I should have blown the 5 grand on a used car.

I guess I was not out of things to say after all.

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