I Can Only Blame Myself

 The best intentions are easily forgotten, and my intention to use the pressure washer yesterday led to some time in the heat I didn't envision. 

Before I added gas to the pressure washer, I checked the state of the gasoline. I knew it had been awhile since it was used, and couldn't remember if fuel conditioner was added in the past. After smelling the familiar odor of old gas, decided I needed to drain the tank and carburetor bowl. It didn't take long, so I hooked it up, made sure the pump had water, set the choke, pulled the pull rope and was rewarded with the engine running one second. I pulled some more with the choke off, tried it with the choke on again, and it wouldn't start. 

I let it sit for a few minutes, took a break to rest my arm, set the choke, pulled the rope, and it started again...for one second. Pulling the rope again, and again, was a useless endeavor, so I resigned myself to the task of delving deeper into the problem. 

I knew it was getting fire, since it ran for a few seconds. That left only the carburetor, and I didn't relish the task of removing it, but without any other recourse, did so, which led to the usual fighting with throttle linkage, and hoses. That, and the careful examination of disassembly to guarantee replacement didn't end up with extra parts. 

The bowl was full of varnish, which verified there was probably more deeper in the carburetor. So, I removed the float, which revealed an accumulation of crud, and the realization I didn't have any carburetor cleaner. A trip to the parts house was necessary, and I was soon ready to finish my cleaning. 

I removed the main jet, cleaned the small passages with a small wire, sprayed carburetor cleaner through the ports, and was rewarded with all being open, instead of being sealed, and possibly, not being able to be opened. Reassembly was a short task, and it wasn't long before I had the pressure washer back together. A short pull after choking showed I was successful. 

In the end, it was all good. I accomplished the washing I intended, and I know the washer will now be stored with fuel stabilizer. The only problem was the cool of the morning I anticipated for cleaning was lost to repairing the washer. That rewarded me with doing the power washing in the sun and the temperature at 95 degrees. I live, and I learn. How that relates to a learning curve is unknown, but I have a feeling it might be described as steep.

Jury Duty

I received a summons for jury duty the other day. In the past, I've served on one jury, and been called a few times. Since I'm retired, have no work reason for not going to serve. 

I know many people don't like jury duty, but it's an interesting process, and allows some time to observe the slow, grinding wheels of justice. From what court the summons is for, it will be for a criminal trial, and those can be eye opening. The only trial I was a juror was a criminal trial, and the responses by the jurors in the jury room were sometimes astounding.

The Battle For Territory

This year brought new arrivals. We've always had fire ants, but what are known as "crazy ants" have arrived. They don't bite (at least I've never been bitten) and are tenacious foragers. Their big problem is their attraction to electricity. They'll fill a junction box, or a circuit board, and eventually short it out. I've experienced their destruction on a project where they filled the computer on a changeable message board, and the only repair was complete replacement. 

So, I spray them when they're around the house, carefully watch outside electrical appliances, and have to accept they're here to stay. One good thing is they will overwhelm fire ants. Where last year mounds were all in the yard, this year hasn't revealed but a few. Still, they're an invasive species, and I don't like having to deal with them.

Free Range Pets

Back in the late seventies, my hometown took money sponsored Vietnamese refugees. Local churches, including my grandmother's, were proud of their money being spent for the endeavor...until they came. I'll explain the problems. 

First, the plan was to relocate the refugees in an area that best matched the environment they were accustomed to living. My hometown was on the coast, so the fishermen were relocated to the area; including some of the suburbs of the Houston metroplex. Sounds good? Right? 

A local wealthy grocery owner conveniently had a multitude of rent house near his store, which allowed them to be filled with the refugees. This area was near my grandmother's, and somehow, she ended up with a family across the street from her house. That's when reality set in. 

Without careful thought, and planning, nobody realized the people that fished in Vietnam were not the same as the people that fished in the United States. The cultural difference was immediately apparent, and the results were not pretty. 

The people across the street from my grandmother's would hang their nets in the trees to dry. For those that don't understand fishing nets, they acquire an odor when drying. Not everything washes out, and residue takes on the odor of dead fish. To add insult to injury, commodes were not readily available to many of the refugees in their country, so the porcelain storage area in the small room was convenient for storing shrimp. A little chlorine bleach in the water prevented the shrimp from becoming unsellable in a short period of time, and buyers of shrimp became wary of any shrimp that smelled like chlorine bleach. Shrimp were cheap at the roadside sales on the highway, but not smelling the shrimp before buying was not recommended.

Children, when afflicted with intestinal problems, were allowed to play outside with nothing but a shirt. That allowed them to drain, without soiling their clothes, and this infuriated my grandmother, who wholeheartedly promoted the refugees, and now wanted them gone. She commented one day: "They need to bring them all to the ship channel and throw them in."

I was living in an apartment in the same area at the time. One thing I noticed over time, was the absence of the neighborhood pets that once roamed freely.  Rumor was they were being supper, but I never had any proof, although I did notice the absence of pets I'd watched over a period of time. 

Local fishermen had a huge problem with the refugees. The refugees were given resources the local fishermen spent years of accumulating, and the refugees were exempted from many of the wildlife laws, which gave them an advantage over the local fishermen. To add insult to injury, the refugees, with their free resources, could cut the prices and the local fishermen suffered. There was even an incident of violence in Seabrook, Texas that made national news. 

So, here we are again. This time it's not being swept under the rug, and the internet offers daily views of the problems created by the unbridled relocation of refugees. It doesn't work, and it never will. 

I have to add those of Vietnamese heritage have assimilated into our society, most are productive, good citizens, and those I've known are blessed with strong family values and integrity. It took a long, long time for their adapting to our society, and the method used was far from what anyone could describe as a good solution.

Dancing Monkeys

The economy is terrible, but it's good. Most of the media chooses a side, and the reports they publish confirm their opinion. So, who do you believe? You can't trust most of the media, and politicians have to lie to stay in office. Samuel Clemens had a good quote about this: 

"There is nothing in the world like persuasive speech to fuddle the mental apparatus." 

Unfortunately, too many people have a malfunctioning mental apparatus, and fuddling is not really that difficult. The most educated have lost their ability to perform critical thinking, and they pontificate ideas influenced by money, power, or both.  The least educated are willing to accept their opinion because it's presented by self-appointed "experts". To make things worse, their dancing monkeys present sometimes erroneous "facts" as truth, and dare you to question their opinion. 

So. is everything terrible? It isn't for those that are blessed with resources that adapt to whatever the economy does. For those that don't have this blessing, their shrinking ability to acquire resources is leading to decision that are earth shattering. They have to accept less, watch investments lose value, put off retirement until they may have the ability to retire, give up their dreams and endure the increase in crime that follows economic downturns. To add insult to injury, they have to adapt, and pay, for the politicians, and bureaucrats, salary with benefits increase they decided they needed. 

It's hard to accept our society is now run, and financed, by those without integrity or morals. Maybe it always has been this way, but it doesn't make it easier to accept.