Gadzooks, I don't even remember. I expect I blogged about it, but good luck finding that when I'm not even sure what year it was. 2007? 2006? When?
Anyway, point is, the dang thing is well over a decade old. I'm thinking "2007" so that'd make it thirteen years. The last couple of times we had power failures, this thing lasted just long enough for me to get into my chair and select "shut down" before crapping out entirely.
So: bought two new batteries, one for my wife's UPS (which worked about as well) and mine. The battery for her UPS came Sunday and it's been quietly sitting in the computer room powering my extra monitor since then. (We bought a small UPS to replace it, but then I decided that was too little UPS for too much computer, hence replacing the battery in hers.) The battery for mine came today, and I just put it in.
Will I get another 13 years out of this UPS? Can I?
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First I was going to do the usual foray into politics, then I wasn't, then I was.
*Clang* Bring out your dead!
Someone referred to professional basketball as "politicsball" and I could not swipe that term fast enough. Their ratings are in the shitter; a game between two of the most popular basketball teams out there drew less than three million viewers, and to make it worse the game took place during a time when the people that live local to the teams are under quarantine conditions and should not have anything better to do.
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Someone in charge at Happy Camper took the "you should quit" gaffe very, very seriously but I don't know if that's enough to save them. The problem is, the damage is done.
While we advocate only a peaceful boycott by all police and those who support police, it is time that businesses (and politicians) experienced perhaps a little bit of economic (or voting) fear from the police and police supporters.I think it's a very, painfully simple rule to follow: when you work in the restaurant industry, at any level, you DO. NOT. adulterate the food you serve to ANYONE, for any reason whatsoever. You don't spit in it, you don't put drain cleaner in it, metal shavings, whatever. You simply do not do it, not ever; I don't think I need to amplify why that's the case. And anyone who does should be fired immediately.
And if that means the Happy Camper goes under due to the actions of its [ex-]employee, then let it serve as a warning to every other restaurant that there are consequences to actions--the same as everyone is demanding of us.
Because what happens is that--around everything else--your business gets a reputation for being the kind of place where you can't trust that your food won't be adulterated. What cop is going to want to go to the Happy Camper now? And not just cops! I'd hesitate to go to the place myself--what if I were there with my wife and we were chatting and the server didn't like something I said, so my sandwich got a helping of mucus? Can I trust that not to happen at the Happy Camper? Given this story, the answer should be obvious.
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I suspect a lot of them would do about the same. I've seen enough stories about antifa goons folding like wet cardboard whenever they meet real resistance to figure that probably eighty, ninety percent of them wouldn't hold up if the shit got real. Most of them are just LARPing as communist revolutionaries; the instant someone starts to fire live ammunition in their direction most of them scatter like the cockroaches they are.
Combat isn't for sissies.
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The civil war that the Left wants would not go the way they think it would. Remember that gun-confiscationist asshat who said the government has nuclear weapons? This article speaks to that point.
You can't defeat an insurgency with heavy weapons.
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Stepped outside for a bit, and spied two or three bats circling above the neighbor's houses across the street--feeding time!
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...Mrs. Fungus came home from work and wanted to go out to dinner, so we went.
Tried to go to Outback, but they moved, and it was getting late, so we went to this place we'd seen several times and she'd wanted to try. "Gino's Steakhouse".
Faugh. Never again.
First off, fine-dining prices. Second, we were sitting under a speaker and they were playing Adele's greatest hits. Mrs. Fungus had to look up who it was, but I knew the songs already from my Target days. Complete shitmusic, too loud for conversation, so decidedly not fine-dining atmosphere.
I let Mrs. Fungus goad me into a steak because that's what we'd originally gone out to get; I selected the 16 oz New York Strip steak--a snip at $42!--and with your steak you had your choice (!) of soup or salad, and how do you want your potato, baked, twice-baked, fries, or garlic mashed? I decided on the latter.
No vegetable? Not even "of the day"?
Because we ordered our salads without tomato, they were essentially just greens with a couple cucumber slices. The ranch dressing was room temperature and bland.
The steak was cooked correctly, which is about the only positive thing I can say about it. It was tough and it was bland--I had to add salt twice--and it had not been trimmed correctly. It was served with a quarter onion that had been steeped in red wine vinegar; WTF. But where I drew the line was at the potatoes. See, the "garlic" part of the "garlic mashed potatoes" was raw. It was as if someone took a pot of regular mashed potatoes and dumped a tablespoon of raw minced garlic in it. It tasted awful.
Our diet sodas were refilled from a carafe rather than just bringing us fresh glasses, so the refills were about half-flat.
So I'd sent back my mashed potatoes, and requested fries instead. They were delivered to the table scorching hot, which is--again--the only positive thing I can say about them. I had to add salt; and when I was finally able to eat one without burning my mouth, I found their texture to be leathery--overcooked.
Mrs. Fungus' steak was better than mine--at least, it was tender, unlike mine. I had a 1.5" cube of it that she couldn't eat. A strip steak is supposed to be tender, but mine had the consistency of round steak.
Dessert was a slice of tiramisu which had been allowed to get too warm, thus losing its firm consistency. We split it. The side that was initially facing me had almost none of the espresso-drenched ladyfingers that make it so delicious; Mrs. Fungus took a bite and said, "It's so strong!" So we rotated the plate, but she still wasn't too happy with it.
My entree was $42. At that price there should have been a vegetable of some kind, not just "soup or salad", bad potatoes, and a weird quarter-vinegar-onion-thing. The steak should have been seasoned. And, in fact, it should have been soup and salad.
I have had steaks before that were worth $42. In fact, I have paid much less than that for steaks which were worth that much! That was not. And it wasn't even the most expensive thing on the menu; the porterhouse was $49 and some of the seafood selections were $YEECH! If you wanted a plain steak that wasn't marinated in, and served with, weird crap, you couldn't get below $40.
Gino's Steakhouse in Merriville--AVOID. The food isn't good, the atmosphere isn't good, the music isn't good, and it's a freaking clip joint. Holy crap.
Well--we tried it, and we never have to go back.
* * *
Anyway--next few days are vacation days for me, and I'm going to try to spend them productively. Goals are to get the cupola finished, re-paint the bathroom ceiling over the bathtub, cut the grass, and to put the new end links on the Jeep's front sway bar.
The exhaust on the Jeep has gotten extra-loud, so I'm going to have a gander at it and see what I can do.
Well--five days, and they'll be over before I know it, but I should have enough time.