The Coffee Guy's blog

Sun and Swill on a Sunday

As the gold orb rose, and the Riff Raff rousted, plans proceeded preciously preening probable uses of the hours.  It only lasted a few, and I was out for it all.  As air nearing the lake to the east became cooler, we rode west young man.  Into the reserve not using mine.  The S was sipping but for a few needed twists to catch up at times.  And I did.

Fresh and nippy, burping and squawking at the beginning, expected after a long cold winter.  All that should and could tan did by all reports.  Some had donned too many and some not enough.  Herds and heards about as we wended our ways.   Each decision based on which was the turniest, and which would deliver the most fun. 

Hill and dale welcomed up at each juncture.  Some on muscle power had us using the French contractor routes.  Some gravel and some lined, most were free of encumbrances.  Sightseeing stops added and passed the golden orb hung up all day.  Stopping for a tube steak and pommes frites added a fresh resolve to rip’r again. 

Thinking of others and pass times of theirs, glad that all would be out that day.  As expected, vintage and resto’s shared the bitumen readily and often.  Shined up and ready for the ocular receptors.  Playing “my car, your car” in my head.  Would I wonder if?  Spring breezes pushing and pulling on my decisions on which direction would be next.  See a turn, miss a turn, take a turn for the better.

Each dodge and weave a new sense and sensibilia.  Winter begone my friend.  The super-tropics brings a shorts summer, stilted again this year with a shortened spring.  Eagerness to make rotations on the twos, decisions to be made on which ones.  I try to keep the wear and tear even, but sometimes the decision is made for me by the destination.

T'was good to get out twisting and turning till the sun tipped off the horizon.  Next day, next bike, next ride, next adventure.

Make the steam curl Maria, I like the aroma that way.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.

Productivity Problems Plague Populations

The innate need for nations to produce has been lost in the th9ought that we can be come an information world.  Get this, nothing can be done without labour.  Nothing can be done with out resources.  Information and technology are not labour or resources.

The big lie is that we as a nation can be thought of, and driven by, Information Technologies.   There is no measurable production from this sector.  Why, now after some A.C. 750 plus days into the world of Coronus pandemonium, do our leaders promote our failing economy with “work from home” mantras, “green tech” platitudes and such like pabulum of the oratory? 

The resourcefulness of entrepreneurs stifled by bureaucracy and NIMBYism.  Get out of my way and life.  Most of the first world a is governed by what we might affectionately call a representative government.  Unfortunately ALL these electees defer to the “staff” studies, reports form their underlings, research done, introspection and consultations out the wazzoo, and nothing from their brain.

These people have been elected because of that THEY said they believed and stood for.  W e did not elect them because of the staff on hand.  “Unproductive” civil servants are there to execute plans and not create or define them.  They produce nothing.  They are a net loss against the productivity of the doers.

If it is not tangible in a tactile sensile way, you have not produced.  Hence the weakness of economies.  GDP is the strength of and economy.  GDP is what a country had produced as a whole on AVERAGE per person.  The more tech and information and no producers we have, the lower the GDP and the weaker our economy will be.

Get out of the way!

Make a Macchiato Margie, froth it up.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.