USMB Coffee Shop IV

[Foxfyre]

I don't even remember the last time I wasn't at a mall. If I want to buy something, I buy it online and have it delivered.

The suburbs is enough civilization for me. I don't much like big cities. The public transportation would be nice, though.

I considered the same, while the period, I'd living some months in a center of city. When you could reach a lot of needed objects by foots - it's very comfortable, it's real another style of life, instead of living somewhere at city edge...
In other case, living somewhere with clean air and low level of noise is comfortable too, offcourse.. Especially with a good Internet

and I've moved almost as far as I can from any city that still has a road going ther!

To live somewhere with directions instead road is excellent, but how could you solve the "problem of last mile". For example, after serious snowfall?

Hmmm. Hadn't thought of that. In our city which really is classified as a big city in the USA but would be a small town compared to yours, we do provide directions such as from the intersection of Wyoming and Academy, proceed west (away from the mountain) on Academy 1.1 miles. Turn right (north) on. . . .

So I would imagine Gallantwarrior would give directions such as take Hwy whatever north from Anchorage however many miles, turn left at whatever and proceed however many miles. Some such as that.

Distances are usually in miles or fractions of miles and described in minutes. Coronado mall is 20 minutes from here or whatever. . .

Exactly how it's done. Either using mileage from point to point, or referencing the mile markers along the road, like: at mile marker 11.5, look for Rudy Road, turn right and drive 3.3 miles, driveway on the left, big, gray house, barn in the back.

Or if there are no mile markers or road markers which is the case in much of New Mexico, you look for the Shell Station across from the body shop. That will be Rudy Road. Or go exactly 11.5 miles north from Pickle Street on Hwy 200. Turn right on dirt road and proceed. . . .

 

[gallantwarrior]

Once again Daisy the Mutt has disturbed a fine night's sleep with her whinning to go out. And once again I find myself awake during the weest of the wee small hours with something to write about.

Back in the early 1980s I was a freshly minted college graduate here in the upper Ohio River valley with no job and no prospect of one. The steel mills were closing up and down the valley. Everyone it seemed was moving away. And I followed. All the way to the sunny gulf coast of Florida and Sarasota county.

It was a pleasant enough place to live and work for an Engineering graduate was easy to find. The place was growing like a weed and new infrastructure was needed. I helped drain the swamps before that became a hackneyed campaign slogan.

But I knew deep down that Florida was not for me. There were actual southern people there. There were also a bunch of northern people seeking to become southern people. I was a northern guy who wished to remain a northern guy culturally if not literally.

I never served in the armed forces. But I can speculate on folks who enlist just for the benefits. Someone who needs the G.I. Bill to get through college. They never make the cultural conversion and become lifers, making a career out of military service. I never wanted to make the cultural conversion to become a southern guy by default.

One could tell who were southern guys and who were northern guys. Southern guys knew distinctions about fishing. Large mouth bass and the specialized tackle it takes to land a trophy fish, catfish and the techniques of trot line fishing (which we'll get into later as this tale unravels), deep sea fishing for marlin, swordfish and the exotic species unknown to land lubbers like me.

Southern guys were into NASCAR. Now, NASCAR. How does one become a fan of NASCAR? Did folks play NASCAR on the school playground? Are there Little League NASCAR teams to cultivate an early love of the game? Perhaps the University one attends is a big NASCAR school going to whatever the equivalent of Bowl games are in NASCAR.

Or does one chose a NASCAR hero based on the vehicle he drives? But then there has got to be more than one driver of a Ford or a Chevy. Maybe it's a devotion to the sponsor. "I just love DuPont Chemical so much, I just had to follow their driver!" Or Hormel Sugar Baked hams or Dawn Dishwashing liquid. You get the point. NASCAR was an aspect of living in the south that was baffling to me.

Northern guys, by contrast, owned no elaborate fishing gear or leather jackets festooned with commercial advertising. Nope! We owned impressive stereo systems and album collections stretching from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Our televisions were bigger, our VHS movie collections were more extensive. We could quote Lou Reed and Jack Kerouac. We brought libraries with us. We were readers. We were used to being holed up inside for a few months every year while winter raged outside. Southern boys developed skin cancer while northern boys suffered Vitamin D deficiency.

Attempts were made to make me see the light and adopt the southern way of life as my own. Friends took me fishing. Deep sea fishing resulted in sea sickness. It's a long walk to the beach from Pittsburgh and bobbing around in open water is a foreign experience. Bass fishing was fun, but unproductive. I guess there's a difference between 'fishing' and 'catching'. Then there was trot line fishing (I told you there would be more on this subject).

Trot line fishing goes for catfish as its query. The technique is simplicity itself. A list of the equipment follows; a canoe, a length of heavy cotton twine, several fishing leaders, a two and a half pound container of Winn Dixie chicken livers, a large picnic cooler filled with canned domestic beer and ice, a plastic five gallon pale, several empty one gallon milk jugs (plastic) and an acoustic guitar.

Tie the fishing leaders to the heavy cotton twine at regular intervals (about ten to twelve feet apart). Attach the empty plastic one gallon milk jugs to the line to act as floats. Bait the leaders with the Winn Dixie chicken livers after preparing them for fishing. Some might get lost at this point. By 'preparing the chicken liver' I do not mean mincing them into a paste, adding a smidgeon of horseradish and diced onion. Preparing for fishing means opening the lid of the container of chicken livers and placing them in the noonday Florida sun for a few hours.

Place the line, the plastic milk jug floats and the chicken livers in the canoe and paddle to the center of a lake during the evening. Distribute the line, floats and livers so catfish in the lake might take the hint. Retire to a campfire and strum the acoustic guitar while seated upon the plastic five gallon pale until a red ring develops around your posterior. That is the indicator that the trot line should be checked for catfish. Paddle the canoe along the line and check each leader for the presence of a catfish. Re-bait as necessary. Retire to the campfire, guitar and plastic five gallon pale and drink several cans of the domestic beer from the large picnic cooler filled with ice.

Sounds like fun, huh? I neglected to mention the welts from the mosquito bites that will appear on your face and arms. I left out the part where the domestic canned beer swells up in your head like a loaf rising in a proofing drawer causing a headache only darkness, quiet and solitude can cure. I forgot that strumming the guitar to the tune of the Velvet Underground's 'White light, White heat' will get you just so far with a southern audience before someone yells out 'Freebird'!

And so it was. No conversion to another culture for me. I stuck it out for four long, miserable years down there in NASCAR and fishing paradise yearning for the day I would hold a snow shovel in my hands again. And in 1988 I pointed a UHaul truck at the I-75 north sign and pushed that long pedal on the right, just as if I was racing on Sunday at Daytona. When I got home all those closed steel mills provided me with steady and ample income. Someone had to clean up the mess and I was just the guy to do it.

I haven't fished since the end of the Reagan years. Then again, I haven't smelled a putrid chicken liver since then either. We all have to make compromises.

Wonderful Nosmo though culturally there probably are a lot of folks who wouldn't empathize with you all that much re preferring to be a northerner. Myself I love visiting the south and enjoy myself pretty much wherever I am, but I am always glad to be back in the southwest with its wide open vistas, huge skies, and more comfortable climate for me.

But I admire people who love where they are too. 007 loves Wisconsin. Sherry and WelfareQueen are Floridians through and through. Gracie is connected to the central California Coast. I imagine ChrisL couldn't imagine living anywhere but New England, etc. If we all loved the same place, it sure would get crowded.

As for Nascar, it is difficult to explain. We aren't really strong fans but had to get interested in it when our elementary age granddaughter became a super fan and has remained so into her 20's. You choose your favorites among the drivers, not the cars themselves. And it is some kind of mystique, emotional connection, or something that attracts you to a particular driver and inspires you to want that one to win. I can't speak for my elementary age granddaughter but when she became the teenage and then grown one, I think it is based on which driver is both competent and also really cute.

You forgot Alaskans, especially "bush" Alaskans. Raised in the Southeast, traveled all over and lived in a lot of places, I cannot think of any other place I'd rather be than here, in the Frozen North. Second choice would be NM, along the Continental Divide...Lake Roberts, Silver City, that area.

 

[gallantwarrior]

This one is MUCH better. A lot more information about your sign if you click on the link. Some of it seems accurate to a scary degree. What do you guys think? Do you think any of it is accurate in describing you? Must be a personality profiling type of thing because I can't figure out why that would be accurate at all.

The problem with definitive descriptions like these is that if we like the description, we can fit ourselves into it, and if we don't, we can believe we don't fit it. Reading the description of Libra, however, I didn't strongly identify with a lot of it personally. But I am not a Libra though I am within 3 days of being one

You said you were a Virgo? Here is yours.

Element: Earth

Quality: Mutable

Color: Grey, Beige, Pale-Yellow

Day: Wednesday

Ruler: Mercury

Greatest Overall Compatibility: Pisces, Cancer

Lucky Numbers: 5, 14, 15, 23, 32

Date range: August 23 – September 22

VIRGO TRAITS

Strengths: Loyal, analytical, kind, hardworking, practical

Weaknesses: Shyness, worry, overly critical of self and others, all work and no play

Virgo likes: Animals, healthy food, books, nature, cleanliness

Virgo dislikes: Rudeness, asking for help, taking center stage

Virgos are always paying attention to the smallest details and their deep sense of humanity makes them one of the most careful signs of the zodiac. Their methodical approach to life ensures that nothing is left to chance, and although they are often tender, their heart might be closed for the outer world. This is a sign often misunderstood, not because they lack the ability to express, but because they won’t accept their feelings as valid, true, or even relevant when opposed to reason. The symbolism behind the name speaks well of their nature, born with a feeling they are experiencing everything for the first time.


Virgo is an Earth sign, fitting perfectly between Taurus and Capricorn. This will lead to a strong character, but one that prefers conservative, well-organized things and a lot of practicality in their everyday life. These individuals have an organized life, and even when they let go to chaos, their goals and dreams still have strictly defined borders in their mind. Constantly worried that they missed a detail that will be impossible to fix, they can get stuck in details, becoming overly critical and concerned about matters that nobody else seems to care much about.


Since Mercury is the ruling planet of this sign, its representatives have a well-developed sense of speech and writing, as well as all other forms of communication. Many Virgos may choose to pursue a career as writers, journalists, and typists, but their need to serve others makes them feel good as caregivers, on a clear mission to help.


Virgo – the Disappointed Goddess Seeking goodness in humankind is the story of Virgo, and disappointment seems to be inevitable from their point of view. The first time they came from their cloud and jumped onto planet Earth, it felt like their mission is to use their existence for good, discovering ways of justice and purity in other people. Once they fail to find it too many times, Virgos will pull away, get lost, turn to substance abuse, or simply separate from other people to sit on the bench, criticize and judge.

What's it say about Pisces?

 

[Ringel05]

Think I have one done;

The black is an ancient lava flow.

 

[Ringel05]

 

[Foxfyre]

Think I have one done;

View attachment 160429

The black is an ancient lava flow.

One what? Did I miss something?

New Mexico does have some awesome old lava flows, even more amazing that they are still in excellent condition and still on the surface of the land.

 

[Ringel05]

 

[Ringel05]

Think I have one done;

View attachment 160429

The black is an ancient lava flow.

One what? Did I miss something?

New Mexico does have some awesome old lava flows, even more amazing that they are still in excellent condition and still on the surface of the land.

figured out how to resize the photo so the site will allow me to upload.

 

[Ringel05]

 

[gallantwarrior]

I considered the same, while the period, I'd living some months in a center of city. When you could reach a lot of needed objects by foots - it's very comfortable, it's real another style of life, instead of living somewhere at city edge...
In other case, living somewhere with clean air and low level of noise is comfortable too, offcourse.. Especially with a good Internet

and I've moved almost as far as I can from any city that still has a road going ther!

To live somewhere with directions instead road is excellent, but how could you solve the "problem of last mile". For example, after serious snowfall?

Hmmm. Hadn't thought of that. In our city which really is classified as a big city in the USA but would be a small town compared to yours, we do provide directions such as from the intersection of Wyoming and Academy, proceed west (away from the mountain) on Academy 1.1 miles. Turn right (north) on. . . .

So I would imagine Gallantwarrior would give directions such as take Hwy whatever north from Anchorage however many miles, turn left at whatever and proceed however many miles. Some such as that.

Distances are usually in miles or fractions of miles and described in minutes. Coronado mall is 20 minutes from here or whatever. . .

Exactly how it's done. Either using mileage from point to point, or referencing the mile markers along the road, like: at mile marker 11.5, look for Rudy Road, turn right and drive 3.3 miles, driveway on the left, big, gray house, barn in the back.

Or if there are no mile markers or road markers which is the case in much of New Mexico, you look for the Shell Station across from the body shop. That will be Rudy Road. Or go exactly 11.5 miles north from Pickle Street on Hwy 200. Turn right on dirt road and proceed. . . .

There's always a way to convey directions. Nowadays, lots of people tell me they'll just Google the address. Funny thing, there really is no address other than on Google. We have no mail box, or numbers, or anything like that. It really isn't difficult to find us, though, we're the only two-story green house for miles, and we're the last place along this road. When the guy delivered my barn trusses, I drove out and met him at the main road and guided him in to the place. It was easier for both of us.

 

[Ringel05]

 

[gallantwarrior]

View attachment 160436

All so beautiful...and desolate.

 

[Ringel05]

 

[Gracie]

I'm afraid NM would not suit me at all. Yes, it has quaint adobe homes and downtown district that look cute...but I just loathe desert. Hate it. Which is why I never moved to Sedona although it was pretty...in some spot. Maybe in a previous life I was in a tropical climate because that is my cuppa tea. Tropical. Huge ferns and leaves and trees an ocean nearby. Like Maui. Or Kauai. Or Bora Bora. TROPICAL. Dat's me.

 

[Ringel05]

View attachment 160436

All so beautiful...and desolate.

Hence the name El Malpais, roughly translated means 'the bad lands'. The whole area is dotted with extinct volcanoes and huge ancient lava flows.

 

[gallantwarrior]

I'm afraid NM would not suit me at all. Yes, it has quaint adobe homes and downtown district that look cute...but I just loathe desert. Hate it. Which is why I never moved to Sedona although it was pretty...in some spot. Maybe in a previous life I was in a tropical climate because that is my cuppa tea. Tropical. Huge ferns and leaves and trees an ocean nearby. Like Maui. Or Kauai. Or Bora Bora. TROPICAL. Dat's me.

With bugs, lizards, snakes, sharks (if there's water), and even more obnoxious tourists than we have here in AK. At least they keep their clothes on up here!

 

[Gracie]

 

[Gracie]

Just need greenery, I do. Desolation of desert just depresses me. Maybe in my previous life I died of thirst or got stung by scorpions or bit by rattle snakes in some desert, lol.

 

[Foxfyre]

View attachment 160436

All so beautiful...and desolate.

It is strange though. The high desert is so different from other deserts. There is a mystery and a mystique to it and when you stand out away from civilization in it, you don't feel alone or feel desolation. Or at least I don't.

 

[Ringel05]

I'm afraid NM would not suit me at all. Yes, it has quaint adobe homes and downtown district that look cute...but I just loathe desert. Hate it. Which is why I never moved to Sedona although it was pretty...in some spot. Maybe in a previous life I was in a tropical climate because that is my cuppa tea. Tropical. Huge ferns and leaves and trees an ocean nearby. Like Maui. Or Kauai. Or Bora Bora. TROPICAL. Dat's me.

Eagle Nest, NM

Angel Fire, NM