We finally got around to helping my buddy with the expensive yacht fix his antenna. We probably didn’t need three of us there, but we got things working. Oddly enough, we had a very basic problem (the brass power bus turned out to not be very good at being a bus) but we have enough experience to figure out the simple problems, thank goodness. We made sure the antenna worked as an antenna and declared victory.

After that I went out to a co-worker’s open house. While I don’t envy his commute, his house is in a beautiful location and well-maintained. There tall evergreens all around and views of wooded hills. I think I’d end up filling the place full of crap and letting the yard get overgrown, but it’s a good fit for him. My ultimate house would either be a whole apartment building with separate apartments full of different crap, or a house attached to a warehouse. The heating bills on the warehouse would be awful, I bet.

A lot of my injuries aren’t very manly, like carpal tunnel and paper cuts. Last Thursday, for example, I got my finger stuck under a weight at the gym and injured a finger. Today I have a couple of cuts on my left hand from a machine gun and from cutting down a tree. It sounds manly, though.

I was supposed to help my rich, but cheap, friend John work on his yacht that’s worth more than the house I live in. Instead I had to drive a bunch of guys an hour down I-5 to a machine gun shoot. I was going to spend all the cash I had in my pocket to shoot some interesting things I never see, like a Lewis gun (off of a pre-WWII biplane) or some huge 50-caliber, or a full-auto pistol, but I didn’t.

What I did do was get back to town too late to dog-sit for my sister. I hope Dede did OK.