America (and all nations on earth from the beginning of time) add and subtract territory. They also change degrees of administration. Alaska and Hawaii weren’t states until 1959. Puerto Rico doesn’t seem to want to be a state (but it does like to bitch). Washington DC is… well that’s a whole post of its own.

Territory acquisition and release doesn’t have to make sense. As a wee lad sometime during the Carter administration I found myself asking a elementary school teacher; “Why on earth are we giving away the Panama Canal Zone?” My teacher muttered something like: “It’s a complex situation.” I was like “No it’s not. If we own it, why would we give it away for nothing?” My teacher looked at me like I was an evil capitalist demon. (You think teachers being socialist bots is a new thing?) “Are they trading us an island or something?” I asked. My teacher’s answer: “Shut up kid.”

Hmm… my teachers said “shut up” a lot.

We own Guam. Representative Hank Johnson thought Guam might capsize.

A man can be so stupid to think an ISLAND might CAPSIZE and still win elections. Here’s a thought for you to mull over, Hank Johnson is “the Ranking Member of the Subcommittee on Courts, Intellectual Property, Artificial Intelligence, and the Internet”. THE GUY THAT THINKS ISLANDS CAN CAPSIZE IS SUPPOSEDLY MANAGING ARTIFICAL INTELLIGENCE! You’re welcome.

Anyway, territories moved and shifted until something happened in people’s minds. They’ve solidified the false idea that whatever is now must be always. I suspect Boomers locked down politics forever. Nothing can change once Elvis died (1977). We must live in concrete now and forever. (There are other theories.) All I know is that America could add States in 1959. It could give away territory in 1977. But God forbid anything change now.

Into that bear trap wandered God’s own tornado of activity… Trump. Dude wants Greenland. I don’t know why. I don’t even care why. I just love the idea of something new.

Trump offered to buy Greenland. Why not? Everyone is too scared to do a fucking thing anymore but Trump at least broached the idea and whipped out a checkbook. Half of America has TDS and shrieked “America can never add or lose territory in the modern world because change is death!” Another part of America said; “Greenland? All it’s got is glaciers, who gives a shit?” A tiny fraction said “Greenland is important for military reasons of…” and loaded up PowerPoint presentations about logistics, submarines, and whatever other boring reason why it really matters; causing the rest of us to flee.

It’s an interesting thing to observe. For the first time in my life, someone in Europe didn’t want American money. Denmark said “It’s an affront to our dignity! We will never give up a square inch of our Kingdom! We love our frozen land that perpetually costs money to support! It’s part of our cultural heritage of something or other we can’t quite explain now but it’s fucking important.” What else could Denmark do? They’re in the EU. It’s a club that does nothing but bitch about the US (and especially Trump). All they want from us is money and military support… for which they’ll shit on us.

Which brings me to the first half of my silly little opinion. I like adaptability and we need to practice it or lose it. So far we’ve lost it. A world where nothing changes allows pressure build up until shit gets unsustainable. Look around; you’re surrounded by shit that’s been unresolved for decades. It’s unstable and y’all can feel the tension in the air. Any change, big or little, is probably a good thing. Planting a flag on a frozen nowhere is probably the easiest way to get the ball rolling.

If Greenland can be acquired, why not? Let’s trade for it. Maybe Denmark would like Rhode Island? Maybe they’d like a big pile of money. Maybe they’d like a good deal on something America is sick of… would they like Hollywood? Denmark, like the ossified Americans, have done nothing but bitch… which is pretty standard for Europe in general. Recently they shouted about kicking us out of NATO… which is awesome! Your terms are acceptable! If Trump gets Greenland and simultaneously gets us out of NATO he’d be a hero. That would merit a gold plated statue of his clanging balls hung from the Washington Monument.

Mostly, it would be good for America to demonstrate it can initiate change. I feel like we’re locked into a multi-generational stalemate. It doesn’t have to be that way. What Americans could do in 1959 or 1977 we’re too fucking pathetic to do now. I don’t like that. Think about how everyone said Brexit would kill the entire hemisphere but it happened in 2020. Or think about how East and West Germany reunified in 1990.

Then comes the second part of my silly little opinion, I hope we buy Greenland so I can go play there. Iceland has all sorts of awesome 4×4 roads but I can’t afford to go there. The place has EU prices and EU bullshit and I’ll never afford it. Maybe Greenland can be a shitty low rent place to go have a redneck hootnanny?

Caribou hunting? Cod fishing? Whatever. If it’s cheap just do it.

I know it’s 99% impassible but get the military out there and have them build a trail across some glaciers and shit. Somewhere rugged and cheap. Did I mention cheap? Subsidize ATV shipments or rentals and let me drive my ass across the tundra. Why the fuck not? I can recreate in Alaska… but if Greenland were cheaper and weirder how cool would that be? If it were American territory maybe I could go there with less passport bullshit. I could go camping with a pile of guns and my dirt bike. Shoot a rabbit? Set off fireworks? Yee haw!

I don’t know what’s going to happen. All I know is everyone has been trained to focus on the negative. We’re just so damn practiced at listing things we can’t do. I mention driving an ATV that isn’t yet there on a trail that hasn’t been made in Greenland and you can almost see the Sierra Club protests about endangered lichen materializing before your eyes. Lets stop that.

I propose things can change. I propose things can be done simply because it’s fun. I propose a bazillion acres of impenetrable glaciers and frozen tundra can spare a few spots for trails. Trump’s military base or whatever could come with a heaping helping of cheap stupid redneck entertainment.

It probably won’t happen but it could. Think of all the things that could happen that are rejected out of hand. Lets not be like that.

Around Thanksgiving my simple idea for an online form to sell sawhorse jigs turned out to be unworkable. You don’t know what you don’t know.

Luckily there was no harm done. I resorted to a kludge at https://adaptivecurmudgeon.com/sawhorses/ and it worked just fine. I think my audience is a little more adaptive than the usual. If ya’ can drive a car with a clutch ya’ can cut and paste for an e-mail.

By the way, the sawhorse jigs and rigs are still for sale. I can make them at will and bought a pile of filament. They aren’t a Christmas only thing.

Another step on my Curmudgeonly voyage of self improvement is to sort out a better approach. I installed the WooCommerce “plugin” for WordPress. It purports to do everything I could ever want. It will take orders, accept the money, forward the order to me, calculate shipping, print shipping labels, it’ll detail my car, it’ll clean out my refrigerator crisper drawer, it’ll empty the cat box, it’s a slicer, it’s a dicer…

Is there anything this wonderous plugin can’t do? Yes! It can’t leave me alone. It wants to integrate everything. It wants me to setup some sort of captcha thing. It wants to know my PayPal account details, it wants to know where I was last night, it wants to crawl up my ass and take measurements, it wants… ok I’m exaggerating but only partially.

In order to do everything it needs to know everything. But I’m the kind of guy that doesn’t bother to already know everything. I can barely remember how to login to the various bits and bobs of my half ass online existence. Sorting it all out for a damn plugin is not my forte.

So, there’s a link on my blog that you may or may not see. It says “store coming soon” (or at least it does on my “admin” version of the blog). The store thing may happen, assuming I can jump through enough hoops. But I’m in full procrastination mode so don’t hold your breath.

Part of my delay is that I find the whole thing boring! I’ll happily spend hours trying to figure out the proper chamfer on a 3d part. That feels like a real life challenge and I love it. Configuring linked cascading software feels like a fake and gay simulation of a real task. It makes my brain fall out. It’s just a personality thing. It’s a task ideally suited to some permanently on-line social media addicted millennial with a cell phone glued to their hand. If I find one I’ll offer them an unpaid internship that offers massive “career building synergy”!

The long game is that I get an online “store” setup now so the next time I come up with a 3d printer idea (or maybe just something I make by hand) I can “go to market” with minimal drama. Wish me luck. Life is a learning experience.

What a glorious Christmas it was!

I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was everything I hoped it could be.

I’ve been hoarding and growing… peace. One needs to! Modern society is as irrational as it is corrosive. You have to take care.

So I attended to my health, enjoyed the world around me, and stayed unplugged. This seasons feels so much more sweet after fate rattled my cage last summer. For Christmas I rode out a head cold and instead of being pissed at the interruption I was thankful that fluids and rest cured it.

I also made merry, though not too much. There’s a time to party like a rock star. There’s a time to contemplate in quiet satisfaction. Now is the latter. I enjoyed every minute with family. I was happy ever moment I was with Mrs. Curmudgeon. Even the new kitten played a role. He kept me occupied by alternating between cute fluffy sweetheart and actively trying to kill me. (I’m not a cat person, but I like that our kitten has the heart of a lion and the mind of a butterfly.)

Mostly, I had a lot of gratitude and basked by my woodstove. Couldn’t have been happier. I didn’t do much over New Years. This too, was all I hoped it could be.

Then, like a lightning bolt, the new year was a real thing. No holiday lasts forever. Like everything else in our unbalanced world, it was full of surprises. Not bad surprises, good ones. I’ve seen a lot of… correction. (I feel or hope there’s going to be a lot of that in 2026.)

Literally hours into the new year, the oppressed people of Venezuela breathed a little freer. I didn’t see that coming. Who did? Folks can debate geopolitics but all I care is that more people are more free now than were free a month ago.

I’m glad it happened but I’m reluctant to wallow in the politics of the day. I wrote a post about it. I shelved it. Nobody needs nor cares what I think about the global stage. A wise man seeks the maturity to let things pass without comment. (I don’t always succeed but I try.)

After Venezuela what more could I hope for? How about a figurative broom sweeping the turds of Minnesota sidewalks? Inconceivable!

A week into 2026, the people of America, seemingly all at once, noticed obvious, continuous, and well known corruption orbiting certain activities in Minnesota. Why did they not notice before? I have no idea. I feel like millions of people worked very hard to preserve their ignorance. I have no special investigative authority, yet I knew. If a wandering forest creature such as myself knew, how could anybody not?

Regardless, that which was unthinkable was publicly acknowledged. One more corruption iceberg in the sea of icebergs is now on our radar. I have no idea what threshold was crossed, only that it was.

Tim Walz, the nation’s would be VP and Minnesota’s embarrassing mincing retard of a Governor, shocked me by bowing out of his re-election campaign. Now? After all these years? Imaging watching a toddler who’d been trying to stick it’s feet in its mouth suddenly grow to a full human and act accordingly. I’m shocked and impressed. (Yes, I know he didn’t do much and only under duress and he’s still the governor. But who expects change will come to a man who seemed to have a mind of Play-Doh? Take time to appreciate it!)

Such is the wonder of seeing a moron gone to seed. Who among us hasn’t seen some politician or CEO flame out and thought “how did that wingnut ever get that far?” Regardless, be thankful. A city that self-immolated in 2020 might stabilize in 2026. (It might not. There’s months of faffing about that still must happen. But I can hope.)

Also, don’t misread me. I’m not expecting a sudden outbreak of competence. Whomever steps into the Walz’s void will probably be another complete blithering moron. The Peter Principle cannot be denied. And, I’m sure the election will be ugly, tainted, and gross. But where there’s change there’s the possibility of improvement.

Anyway, two things happened that I perceive benefit humanity. Surely some, steeped in their own biases as I am mine, are fuming over both events. I wish them well. The best I can say is I didn’t cause either, so I don’t want to hear any bitching aimed at me. If you’re pissed off, take it up with the Universe. I control nothing.

Alas… nothing is clean.

I’ve been wondering what gross, incestuous, circular firing squad, bullshit will taint one of the two events. Call me cynical but when corruption is stopped (or in these two cases noticed) I start wondering what isn’t as it appears. It’s been years since I took for granted that a crime could happen without the FBI (or someone) using my taxes to cause it. Since I already knew most Minnesota corruption was Federally funded, I turned my eye to Venezuela.

What’s the ugly secret nobody’s talking about? Drugs? Oil? Commies being commies? Zoo animals on the BBQ? I doubt it. All that stuff I already knew.

Something is going to come to the surface that I don’t know or in a scale I didn’t imagine. It almost has to be so. If something good has happened for the people of Venezuela (or Minnesota) there almost certainly is some further layer of degradation I’ve not yet considered. To quote from Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead:

“Things have gone about as far as they can possibly go, when they have gotten about as bad as they can reasonably get”

What is missing about Venezuela? Idly, and with no malice whatsoever, I remembered a factoid from the past; Smartmatic.

I knew (as anyone who isn’t trying hard to not notice) that Venezuela’s elections were sketchy. Let’s not freak out when I state the obvious. We’re all adults here. Our election are sketchy too. I’m required by tradition, humor, and lawfare to state that Joe Biden got more votes than any other candidate in history. But if Georgia’s behavior in 2020 was squeaky clean, they sure worked overtime to make it look dirty.

As far as I know there’s two election software / hardware companies. Dominion and Smartmatic. I’m 100% sure that both are perfect. Both should have a halo hovering over each machine. Etc…

As far as I know (and I don’t know much) Dominion seems to be the biggest player in USA. Smartmatic seems bigger in South America but I’m not sure about that either.

It would be awesome if nothing weird happened to unfairly give both honest and transparent systems the slightest appearance of taint. I’d sure like to live in a world like that. But this is what went down in 2020 in Venezuela:

“The electoral council in Venezuela says a fire in its main warehouse near the capital, Caracas, has destroyed most of the voting machines held there.

Almost 50,000 voting machines and 582 computers used in the country’s elections went up in flames…”

Ah there it is.

Nothing looks clean and above board like a unexpected event that happens at exactly the right time. I’m not saying Smartmatic was up to hinky shit in Venezuela. I’m not saying Dominion was up to hinky shit in Georgia. I’m saying I’d prefer a world where nobody even looks like they’re up to hinky shit.

I’d like a world where oppressed people could be freed simply because it’s good to be free. Then again if wishes were fishes, we’d all cast nets.

Take care of yourself. It’s a good time to be alive. It’s going to be a hell of a year! America is about to have it’s 250th birthday, I got a “free” kitten, and gas is cheap. Don’t ignore things crawling in the shadows but don’t despair. If you didn’t crawl up your own ass in 2020, you’ll ride out 2026 just fine.

A.C.

P.S. Even if you see the truth you don’t have to admit to it. Just “don’t notice”. For your own entertainment, ponder the phrase “we do not dispute that the tapes were not signed. It was a violation of the rule. … We don’t dispute the allegation from the 2020 election.” That’s just a boring thing said at a State Election Board Hearing. Don’t worry about it. There’s no question that Joe Biden was totally legit, won fair and square, and got more votes than any other candidate ever. I believe that with all my heart because I live in a nation that had political prisoners. However, if you’re rebellious enough to “notice” things, ponder the following two sentences. That 315,000 ballots were improperly counted is no longer contested. That the margin of victory was 12,000 votes is a matter of record. Now quit noticing. Everything is awesome, nothing weird happened, and voting machines in places like America and Venezuela are flawless.

The kitten has two settings. It’s either wide awake and about to attack or zoned out and half asleep. He can cycle between the two settings in a flash. I didn’t want a new pet but he’s a fun little critter.

Photo A: Z0nked out.

Photo B: Wide awake and about to launch a barrage of chaos. Elapsed time between the two photos, about 1.5 seconds.

The kitten had a wonderful Christmas, as did we all.

I love the Cato refrigerator attack!

My last post mentioned I was enjoying Christmas in quiet contented domestic bliss. I am.

As an expert in overthinking things, I fret that such a state doesn’t come naturally. I find myself most contented right after or during a big challenge. Last year, for example, my greatest moments of peace came by the campfire after exciting days riding dirt bike on the WYBDR.

This year I turned the dial back; not out of weakness of sprit but in wise conservation of limited health. The whole thing makes me nervous. Under normal (ideal?) circumstances I might be snowshoeing across a lake this weekend. I’ve been planning to camp on the ice with my “new” (now a few years old) winter tent. Sadly, it’s not a good idea and I’m holding back. I wonder how long I’ll be “patient”?

Since I’m not generally a “quiet and contented” guy, I’m a little suspicious of unexpected moments of Zen. Sitting in a chair by the fire, I pondered my situation:

“I always prefer challenge and excitement yet right now I’m sitting on my ass like a schlub. How has it come to be? Why am I not bored and annoyed?”

I sighed.

“Is this it? Am I just an old guy getting boring and sleepy?”

This whole line of thinking was unwise. Never ever pitch one across the plate like that! Give fate an opening that wide and you deserve to be your own punchline. I’d practically willed God’s banana peel under my feet!

What I haven’t blogged about is the feral kitten I mentioned in late October. It has moved into the house and rules the roost… as a kitten ought. I couldn’t keep the little scoundrel out of the house, it invaded my peace, it owns the cozy woodstove, it delights Mrs. Curmudgeon (and grudgingly me too), and the floor is littered with various cat toys. It wasn’t what I wanted or planned, but it’s what happened. We like critters in general and clever tricksters doubly so. So it’s here to stay.

I’m just glad the cat lets me live in its house!

So there I was, resting by the fire, completely relaxed but wondering if I was shirking some sort of cosmic duty to rise to challenges; with a cat sleeping on my lap.

Cats exist to stir the pot and (in my life at least) God has an excellent sense of humor. With no warning at all*, the kitten burst up from what had seemed like deep slumber, unsheathed ten tiny little claws, and attacked my beard!

I jerked back, which gave the little hellion just enough space to launch. The first attack had given it a good solid two paw grip on my beard. The full launch propelled it through (!) my beard, over my face, across my head, down my back, and across the room.

BLAM! The universe had provided the excitement I didn’t know I needed.

There was no more perfect time for a harmless but unexpected Honey Badger attack on my face. The universe knows when to swing for the bleachers!

The chair nearly went over. The book I was reading flew into the air. A cookie I had balanced on the chair’s arm went flying and disappeared. (I suspect the dog had something to do with that.)

I found myself on my feet in a fighting stance and facing the furry missile. I looked like Inspector Clouseau after being jumped by Cato.

I was alert, awake, and ready to rumble. The cat had no malice toward me. It had burst into action like a firecracker for reasons that only a kitten would understand. It had forgotten I existed. It was zooming all over the room… exactly like a spastic unpredictable kitten should.

The dog was barking. The cat was running in circles, sometimes underneath the dog. Mrs. Curmudgeon was calling into the room to see if I was ok, assuming probably that something had exploded.

Boring and sleepy indeed!

The world is exciting and vibrant! And my forehead has the scratches to prove it!

I fished a laser pointer out of my pocket and redirected the Tasmanian Devil at my feet. He obliged by zooming around, crashing into walls, and knocking stuff over.

I wasn’t mad. I was laughing my ass off.

God knows what you need. I hadn’t precisely expected an inexplicable grenade made of fur and claws exploding out of my lap… but it sure did get the blood pumping!

The cat and I had a merry time trashing everything in sight. After a good ten or fifteen minutes of concentrated mayhem me and the cat started winding down. The little maniac was tired. And so was I.

I flopped back into the chair. Without invite, the cat leapt up into my lap. As far as the cat’s concerned the chair belongs to him and I’m just sitting in it as a convenient space heater.

Five minutes later the cat was sound asleep. It was surely storing energy for the next round of chaos. I was no longer fretting! Was I was dodging some universe decreed allotment of fun? Nope. Shit would happen that keeps things interesting. I don’t have to worry my pointy head about it.

Unlike the cat, I didn’t drift off to sleep in the chair. Why? Because I had a cat in my lap that might detonate again without warning. However, I slowly got absorbed in my book and was once again contented and at peace.

God apparently knew I needed something to keep me active and responded eagerly. He unleased a furry Claymore mine in my living room and eased my worried mind. Can’t complain about that.

AC

*Except the obvious reason that cats are chaos wrapped in fur.

P.S. Here’s links from when the little critter showed up: Well That Didn’t Go As Planned and Pics Or It Didn’t Happen: Kitten Edition.

If you didn’t know me, you’d think I’m being a Grinch. I haven’t hung up lights. There’s no tree. I’m not listening to carols (though I’ve been Whammmed three times so far). I haven’t cleaned the house. Mrs. Curmudgeon and I don’t exchange presents. (Some caveats to that; I did treat myself to a new miter-saw a few months ago and I’m sure Mrs. Curmudgeon has Amazon-ed herself some nice stuff and I’m glad she has. We just don’t do the “surprise and wrapped box” thing.) There’s no outward sign of the season. If you were judging by Hallmark movie standards we’re nearly zombified.

But that’s a false surface appearance. Below that we’re both having a great holiday season. In fact, I’m off the charts happy. It’s one of the most Christmas-y Christmases I’ve had in years. I’m an empty nester and I’m enjoying the total lack of pressure. There’s no stress. I don’t have to do shit. I’ve got a forest full of trees. I meant to bring one in and decorate it… then I didn’t. Why? Because I’ve earned the right to not. The trees can stay out there with the chickadees.

I even had a brief flurry of activity with my 3d printed jig sales. Very fun. For a while my workshop had a Santa’s elves vibe to it. Then I caught up. Well mostly caught up. I have one last order to ship and that’ll hit the mail in the near future. (3D printers are not fast.)

In the main, I’ve been checked out and relaxed; kicking back by my woodstove. I’m burning wood I cut myself and reading. That’s it, just reading. Not even reading anything deep. Just fluff. I even slacked off on blog posting. (Forgive me.)

I’ve got lots to be happy about. I’m deeply appreciative of the fact that my health scare of earlier this year didn’t plant me in the ground. Not being dead is awesome. I hesitate to even mention my tribulations. What knocked me down is nothing like the horrors many people have endured. Regardless, it was real to me. A thing happened that  really sucked and now it’s mostly handled and so I’m beaming like a little kid. Life is simple that way. Who wouldn’t be fuckin’ ecstatic to be getting better?

A note on that; I thought I’d bounce back. Nope! It’s apparently a marathon not a sprint. I planned to be ice fishing and winter camping by now. But that’s just unwise so far. I’m getting better day by day at a snails pace. Slow and steady; on a schedule that’s not mine. There’s not a damn thing I can do to accelerate things and that’s fine. I suppose God had it in his plans to clip my wings a bit and maybe that’s something I needed. Who am I to reject a present of humility?

Speaking of humble acceptance, I somehow threw out my back and picked up a head cold all at once. Ouch! It sucks. But I’m practicing my new lessons in letting things take their time. I cancelled a few plans, bought another fluff book on my kindle, and parked my ass by the fire. It’s all very cozy and domestic. Some sniffles and hot cocoa, not too bad a fate. Statistically speaking I’ll get better in 7-10 days. My old self would be pissed off and my new self is like “whatever”. My old impatient opinion was dumb. 7-10 days is what it is, no point in freakin’ out.

I’m not sure why 2025 is such a time of quiet thankful joy. Maybe the shock of society shitting itself in 2020 faded? Or maybe I further distanced myself from a society dumb enough to be like that? Maybe it’s my health? Maybe some hard earned wisdom has kicked in? I changed my work situation and that definitely didn’t hurt. It could be all of that or it could be something else. I guess I don’t know why I’m so happy. I don’t even care. It just is.

Merry Christmas y’all!

“You’re literally asking them to send you mail!?!” He asked.

I was talking with someone much younger than me. I’d explained that I’d sold a bunch of sawhorse jigs and rigs which was super cool. But I’d flubbed the whole “online marketing” part and that was a bummer.

I described what folks had to do to order a jig. As you know, it’s nothing like the usual electronic shopping cart and checkout software we’ve come to expect. He reacted to my description as if I had antennae coming out of my head.

“I tried this online form thing but it crashed so…” My excuses were lame and getting lamer.

“…this is your URL?!?!” He demanded.

He was looking at https://adaptivecurmudgeon.com/sawhorses/.

Seeing it second hand, shrunk on his tiny cell phone screen, it looked dismal. I’m not even in the same planetary hemisphere as a “normal” presentation. “I’ve seen graffiti more skillfully executed.” He concluded.

I nodded. I had that coming. “I was kind of in a hurry and so I…” I didn’t even get to finish the rest of my rationalizations.

“You told people to cut and paste? Into an e-mail.” He was squinting at the tiny text. “It’s like a caveman did this. Do you have a Flintstones car with your feet sticking out the bottom?”

He was right. “Well, I…” I stopped and just embraced the learning experience. “It was pretty pathetic. I had no plan B when the online form croaked.”

“Wait, what?” He was flummoxed but I didn’t notice and was babbling.

“… on the other hand all of my customers were delighted. Most of them e-mailed when they received the package to say they were pleased.”

“Um…”

I still hadn’t noticed his silence. “And I put in a funny little instruction thing. Folks liked that so I put it free on my blog. Mostly it was jokes and bitching at people to turn off their cell phone.”

He had come to a screeching halt in all his complaints. He was also eyeing his cell phone, which has probably never been off.

“Yah, I fucked up.” I concluded.

“You admit it sucks…” He had a thoughtful look.

“What am I supposed to say ‘Mistakes were made?’. I really did make a goofy order form.”

“Mistakes were made?” He was smiling at the joke. “Sounds like a politician.”

“I think it was Robert McNamara.” The discussion had gone off the rails but I didn’t mind.

As always the younger generation was “fact checking” with their phone. “Looks like everyone said that.” Somehow I’d impressed him anyway. “Man, you just said your own form sucked… just like that.”

“Well yeah, when you fuck up you’ve fucked up. I’ll do better next time.” I chuckled.

We both paused, lost in thought. We were both silent for about a quarter of my cup of coffee.

“It’s nice when people say ‘That wasn’t ideal. I’ll do better next time’.” He had the dreamy look of a youth who’s been put through the wringer by modern society.

That kind of made me sad. It’s 2025 and nobody knows how to be wrong anymore. I mean, except for me who’d just done it. That’s hard on everyone.

“You whippersnappers just don’t know how hard things were in the old days!” I hammed it up to break the tension. “Why in my day we had to pan for gold and then send the flakes wrapped in wax paper. We’d buy things from the Sears Roebuck catalog and also use the catalog for toilet paper.”

The great part was he had no idea how much of my exaggerations were true and how much wasn’t. I decided to offer some true “geezer lore”:

“Not too long ago the commercial would be on TV. It would have a phone number to call but long distance was expensive and nobody had a credit card. So they’d tell you the address to which you’d send a check.”

He blinked. It was all too unbelievable.

I grabbed his phone and surfed up an example. Here it is.

“Mail your check to this place and there’s a money back guarantee…” He was laughing at the ad. I was too.

“No wonder people fell for Nigerian scams. You had to do all that to get a damn song.”

He mentioned about a dozen online software gizmos to process transactions. I knew they existed but mostly ignore them. They all had stupid names. It sounded like:

“Get the Flimflam plugin to Spazzer and that’ll send your purchase data through Nurtburst. Then you can ship it either by FedEx or Snorfdoodle.”

I think I’m going to try something called WooCommerce; which is also a dumb name.

Anyway, that’s my plan. No rush, no hurry, I’m enjoying my Christmas nice and slow, but after that I’ll try to list the jigs in some sort of sane manner. If y’all already bought all you’ll want that’s OK. I like anything that helps me learn.

I said “The past is a foreign country” and insisted we re-watch the old TV ad. 1985 really isn’t that long ago, but it’s also very long ago.

Wish me luck with WooCommerce or whatever the hell it is.

As y’all know I’ve been selling sawhorse jigs and rigs at https://adaptivecurmudgeon.com/sawhorses/.

What you don’t know is I tossed in a little half page printed document. I considered it sort of a “value added” thing. In private responses everyone seemed to like it. One person who ordered some jigs asked that I post the document so he could include it as he distributed jigs as gifts. That’s a reasonable request and I’m happy to comply. I’m pasting it below:

How to make a sawhorse (instructions for beginners)

1. Take a deep breath. Relax. Does this help make a sawhorse? Not specifically. Do it anyway.
2. Buy three studs. A “stud” is a piece of wood that’s 96” (eight feet) long. It’s called a “two by four” and is 1½” by 3½”. Why are the name and the dimensions different? Don’t ask.
3. Select the straightest “studs” you can find. Pick the best of the bent spaghetti the store is selling. Buy an extra stud. You won’t need it unless you screw up but lets be real.
4. Also buy a box of 3” Torx screws. As a test of stoic prowess, try to buy absolutely nothing else.
5. Optionally: on YouTube look for Perkins Builder Brothers. Watch Building The Perfect Job-site Sawhorses. All hail irreducible complexity! Like & subscribe. Now turn your phone off. (Link)
6. Follow safety precautions. Ear & eye protection, etc… Don’t be stupid around power tools.
7. Cut the straight cuts as listed on the jig. Everything but the leg spreader. You will use every inch of your materials. Measure twice and cut once. Keep your phone off.
8. Use the jig to trace the angle at the top of all four legs. Trace with a pencil and put the jig away; possibly in another time zone. Don’t try to hold the jig in place while cutting. I shouldn’t have to say that, but I do. (If you bought “fancy feet” trace the angle on the bottom.)
9. Cut along the lines. I like to use a bandsaw. You can use what you want. Be safe.
10. On one 48” piece, make pencil marks 1” in from the ends. That’s where the legs go.
11. On the legs make pencil marks 12 1/8” from the bottom (do this before you cut fancy feet). That’s where the leg spreader goes.
12. Hey, did you turn your phone back on? I told you to leave it off. You need a break from it.
13. Use the jig to trace the angle for the leg spreader. If you make straight cuts and then cut the angle you’ll run low on wood. Once you’re done, make pencil marks ¾” left and right off the center line. That’s where the 41” piece goes.
14. Assemble your sawhorse. If you’ve got a nail gun, use a few finish nails to tack it in shape.
15. If you don’t have a nail gun, don’t use a nail gun.
16. If you want to drill pilot holes for your Torx screws, do so. If you don’t want to, don’t.
17. Tighten it all up. Checking that everything is straight and true before you crank it tight.
18. You’re done. Is the phone still off? Good. Relax a few minutes before you turn it back on.

[This post is basically a pointless ramble. You’ve been warned.]

I’m not a misanthrope.

The point is I wish the best for people but need plenty of solitude. I’m happiest if everyone’s pleasant and fulfilling lives have nothing to do with me. This is why I do weird shit like start a post with “I’m not a misanthrope”.

Anyway, the house has been under construction lately and it’s driving me nuts. The dog and I are both grumpy about it. The dog growls; “There are people within the allowed perimeter, totally uncool man! Bearded one, please chase them away.”

I growl back; “I agree, they’re in restricted territory. But I want the kitchen floor repaired. We must endure!”

Mrs. Curmudgeon is a voice of reason. “Why are you and the dog both growling?”

I can’t help my grumpy attitude. I chafe under the intrusion even though I rationally know it’s necessary. In fact I like our contractor. He’s a nice guy. He does a fair job. The last thing he needs is me pacing back and forth glaring at him like I’m some kind of barely controlled serial killer.

The good news is I think he’s aware that I know I’m the nutjob. I tell him I’m pleased. Even if my body language says “I want to toss you off a cliff” my actual words are “good job on the molding”. He seems to get it.

But still, I’m a wreck. Too many people are being too people-ly on my property! (And that’s in addition to the FedEx dude who had driving issues and flaked out spinning his wheels on my lawn!)

I’m not a shut-in. I’m perfectly happy wandering the earth. (Indeed I was bummed out when I cancelled planned motorcycle wandering this summer for health reason.) But I can cover a lot of ground and still maintain a people-limited situation. I miss that.

What’s the word for a guy who would happily travel a thousand miles amid humans but his ultimate destination is some deserted canyon rim somewhere? I feel like society puts a negative connotation on “loner”; which isn’t fair. “Solitude” is not “lonely”.

Anyway, I’ve had my house torn up all week and then there was a blizzard and a cold snap. All this has been a bit much. I spent as much time as I could hunkered down in my workshop (with the dog at my side) but the overall vibe has me pretty jittery.

I wish I was healthy enough to be camping in a snowdrift somewhere. It feels like I should be ice fishing or something.

Ah well, at least it’s Christmas-time. I very much like Christmas. Speaking of which, I’ve caught up with all my Christmas orders but am still happily 3d printing “not due by Christmas” objects. (I’m definitely open for business at https://adaptivecurmudgeon.com/sawhorses/. Feel free to order!)

Also Christmas this year is particularly sweet. I’m pleased to not be dead. Also it’s grand that I didn’t piss off Mrs. Curmudgeon during my illness, or drive us bankrupt. Beyond that I made a very fine anticipatory move in fixing up my shop. Last week a few mornings were down to -20f and I had crowds in the house, yet I could escape to my shop and peacefully percolate coffee on Betsy. What more could a guy want?

Tomorrow is Monday. The contractor is coming back. I plan on bailing out for the workshop asap. I’ll take the dog with me. I may pre-stage my percolator ready to go. Maybe a frying pan and some eggs too. Just to ease my morning.

Wish me luck.

AC