Calvert county fairgrounds yard sale

I've posted about my frustration with my spouse a lot recently, but I am dealing with my own struggle with too much stuff. Enough things didn't go according to plan today that I really needed to reflect on how I've been doing recently and find something to celebrate in my own journey.
Sometimes the victory isn't in what we get rid of; it's in what doesn't come in, in the first place. I'm posting to celebrate that type of victory.
Sales, plants and seeds are among my weaknesses. Last year I made a firm commitment to not purchase any annual bedding plants until we have replaced our fence and installed a drip irrigation system for whatever containers we're putting the annuals in. As tempted as I was, I did not purchase any annuals last year and have not purchased any this year. This year I went through the vegetable seeds I've purchased over the past several years and shopped there first before purchasing more seeds this year. Over Memorial Day weekend, it felt like I was being bombarded with advertising for holiday sales every time I picked up my smartphone. I can ignore most of them, but two were especially enticing because I really am looking to purchase those items within the next 6 months. The time just isn't right, right now.
With every tempting ad, email alert, social media post, and text message reminding me of these two particular sales, I reminded myself that I did not need to find something to buy just to take advantage of the sale. I also had a discussion with myself about the facts of the matter, which are:

• Fact: they will have another sale with the exact same discount the next three day weekend, and possibly for Father's Day.
• Fact: the item I want to buy is out of stock in my size and preferred color.
• Fact: they will restock. I do not need to find a second choice and "make it work." I can hold out for my first choice.
• (Fact: finding a second choice and making it work is how I acquired every pair of shoes I donated several weeks ago, as well as every single article of clothing I will donate when I go through my closet and the totes of "out of season," "not my current size" and "I just got bored with it" clothing in my attic in a couple of weeks.)
• Fact: I am decluttering and buying something just to take advantage of a sale is not consistent with my goal.
• Fact: I have two upcoming "significant expenditures" that I need to take into consideration.

So, I took myself out of the loop. I unfollowed their social media group because that's where most of the buzz about the sale originated. I will make a final decision about unsubscribing to promotional email and text alerts based on the activity over the next 30-60 days.

Welcome to the weekly /Louisville Classifieds and Promotions thread.
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hey reddit trades fam! Questions for automotive folx..
On a whim I purchased a large tool cart at a yard sale - it was FULL of tools and looked to be mostly automotive tools. Exactly what I wanted. But there's a few things I'm either having a hard time identifying OR I just don't know if I should keep or get rid of. I'm new to the trade so I want to have everything important, but it would suck to get rid of stuff that might serve me down the road or be expensive to replace.
Items included and I'm unsure if I should keep:

• steering wheel puller
• imperial 45 degree flaring tool (also no idea what that is?! Do I need it?)
• fuel pump vacuum + pressure tester gauge
• oil filter wrench (fairly heavy duty)
• piston ring compressor tool
• multi tool - unsure what this is for. See pic.
• Kastar tool - also unsure. See pic. I thought maybe it was for measuring brake pads, as each tab has a measurement on it, but they all are identical in size when stacked??
• ratchet drive handles (see pic)

Thanks in advance for your help!!!

I've had a bunch of amazon boxes filled with many random things that I was going to resell online but they are so many different items that it's too time consuming for me. If anyone is interested in knowing more about this, send me a message. I have multiple boxes and maybe you can try listing these online or have a yard sale.

Does anyone here know where I can find the trees for sale locally (I’m located near the Morris / Sussex county border).
Any suggestions on which varieties grow best in NW New Jersey?

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”

I was going to be late. I was on the verge of panic, uncertain of where I’d come from or why I was late, but I was going to be late.
Today was supposed to be different. I was sure of it. The start of something new. My only opportunity to move out of my little dead-end corner of Appalachia rested on me arriving for the night shift on time.
I sped over the rolling road in a panic. Dense old growth rushed past in a blur periodically broken by small plots of pasture, apple orchards and fields that a few months earlier were brimming with corn. Shadows danced out there in the dim moonlight and the closer I got to the airfield the more separated from the small outlying town I felt.
My steering wheel was cold and it vibrated wildly in rhythm with my heart. I tapped it impatiently.
The rusted hulk nearly left the road each time I crested a hillock. My suspension groaned under the salt spurred corrosion and strain.
I can get a new car if this all works out.
I nearly missed my turn. Fishtailing, I plodded off the main road onto an aptly named “Airport Drive”.
I came to a halt at the designated stall and turned the car off.
A minute to spare.
I looked out into the darkness beyond the parking area and a tingle ran down my spine. The shadows that were once dancing as I passed were still now and the air oppressive. My hands were tingled with cold yet brimmed with sweat. Before opening the door, I took a few deep breaths, flattened my hair, and made sure my uniform was sharp. Looking into my image in the rearview mirror I cleared my throat.
“Alright buddy. You’ve been drifting from service job to service job in this dying county for half a decade. Somethings got to change. *You’ve* got to change. You’ve got a daughter now, you can’t be out there chasing bar weasels and getting drunk every other night. It’s time to up your game. You aren’t the little boy who had to stand in the corner with his nose to the wall every time you messed up anymore. Now your choices matter for her life too. The pay and experience here are going to help springboard you off into something bigger and brighter. You can do this.”
My car door shrieked open causing the chirping and croaks in the forest around the airfield to briefly fall silent. The crunch of gravel followed me across the unpaved, unmarked parking spaces poorly illuminated by one lonely floodlight. I made my way to the entrance of the terminal and pulled open the door to the chime of an old brass bell.
“Oh, hey buddy.” He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.” Stepping into the room I saw Gus casually looking up from his crossword, bifocals resting on his fat, bright red nose.
“Yessir. I figured maybe if things weren’t too busy we could get started early. I’ve heard night shift can be a lot to take in.”
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung half open.
“Well….alright, I guess. But we’ll be easing you in. Just the basics for the first week.” He held up a finger, “Will and I are gonna rotate each night, until we know you’ve got the hang of it, then we’ll start giving you more responsibilities – if you’re up to it.”
We spent several hours on the night shift responsibilities for the airfield. Many of the duties weren’t too complicated. When we went to the control room at the base of the single tower overlooking the tarmac we flipped several very clearly marked switches turning the runway lights on and off. Then we walked over the several generators tucked away behind baggage claim to check their fuel and oil levels.
“Checking these emergency generators things each night seems a bit overkill, no?” I asked.
Gus smiled. “These aren’t for emergencies. This is our power. Yea, this past winter much to our surprise we found that some of the power poles came down. Some heavy rainfall right before the first snow turned the ground to soup and the just sort of…fell over.”
“They really shouldn’t do that.”
Gus shrugged. “Yea well, corners get cut all over the place. Damn things still aren’t back up, so here we are.”
As we walked back over to the portables for baggage claim and arrivals/departures. Another tingle ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked around and caught sight of something out in the dark. It was the feeling of being watched. I tried to focus my eyes on the darkness. I saw some gently pulsating shadows near the trees but nothing more.
The chirping and croaks were nowhere to be heard and I shivered.
“Come on kid, I ain’t got all night.”
I came to and trotted over to where Gus had stopped. “Sorry, I thought I saw…something.”
We continued onward, restocking the restrooms, went over baggage tagging and safe lifting procedures and the other mundane parts of preparing for the night’s departures and arrivals.
Finally, we wrapped up my first training session with perimeter checks.
Gus’ labored breathing alternated with his footfalls on the blacktop as we walked down the small runway.
“Every 3 hours you are going to be making this walk.” He gestured around. “You start over at the ATC tower and head out to the tree line, then follow that parallel to the tarmac until you pass the last of the landing lights and keep going until you hit the transmission shack. Don’t get distracted and go off following the transmission lines. Had a guy do that a year or two ago and it took us a week only to find his ass mumbling by the side of the road talking about the linemen – boy wasn’t right after that.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“Anywho, after the transmission shack you hook right following the shore of the river until you hit Eddie’s orchard then head back. You’ll pass his cornfield and follow that until you see the two terminal portables, then you check the parking lot and come back to the office to enter it all in the logbook. Just need to make sure there ain’t nothing out there that shouldn’t be.”
We continued walking in silence for a few minutes. “So what do I do if I find something? Are we looking for the Wilson boys or something? I thought they stopped causing trouble after you…”
“Well, you need to enter it in the logbook for one.”
“Bears? What do I do if it’s bears?”
He stopped. “Bears? What the hell are you rambling about? We don’t get bears this time of year. Oh, and be sure to bring your bear spray.”
“Even though there aren’t bears?”
“It’s under the counter next to the logbook.” He paused again. “If you see any wildlife, just take the truck out there and honk at it to get it away from the runway. Be sure to use your high beams, too. Very important. You see any people you get back to the office and call the Sheriff – don’t need to be a hero. You hear anything weird out there in the dark you leave it be, if it’s off property it’s not our problem.”
“Any questions?” he asked as we got back to the office.
A few.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great, Will’s in the control tower if anything comes up. No flights scheduled for tonight so it should be awfully quiet. Here’s the keys to the castle. Adios.”
He placed a massive key ring into my hand that had more keys than there were doors on the property and took off.
I sat down behind the counter, looked at the broken clock and sighed.
I was able to knock out the task list before midnight and had 6 more hours to kill before the end of my shift. There was no cell service, because of course not. I tried reading an old Town and Country magazine I found stashed under the desk and found most of the pages had been covered in circles and doodles by someone who must have been just as bored as I was on some unknown shift prior.
I decided to sweep up and clean the counters to keep myself busy and after I was done it was only 12:15.
I groaned.
The silence was oppressive. Outside the window was an empty, dark expanse with a slowly strobing series of red lights marking the flight line. I felt safer indoors but even then as I stared into the dark something felt off. If I turned my gaze from the windows I could see something out of the corner of my eyes. Branches swaying in the breeze.
There was no wind here.
12:34.
I pulled the logbook out from its shelf and placed it on the counter entering my start time, grabbed my flashlight and headed out into the frigid night.
The occasional whistling of the wind punctuated my footfalls. I passed red light posts every few yards on a never-ending runway. I kept walking for what felt like half an hour, losing count of the lights I’d passed. I turned back out of curiosity and still saw the slowly receding light of the air traffic control tower confirming that yes, all was well. After the runway ended I continued into the dark until coming to the boarded up transmission shack and the power lines that ran off into the forest.
I came the edge of the marsh and began following it. Minutes passed. I turned to get my bearings on the tower and found it’s lonely beacon, but I also noticed a void in the dark – not a blackness per-se, black is a color. No, it was a complete lack of color, a hole in existence out past the power lines. It was getting larger.
I picked up my pace.
I got to the orchard and looked back finding that the lights were out. All of them were out. And that thing in the forest was growing near.
I stood there and watched it for several minutes waiting for it to move. It didn’t.
I turned back now walking as fast as I could. After a dozen yards I stopped and turned around.
It was closer, I was sure of it. Much closer.
I turned and began to jog forgetting everything Gus had told me. It was gaining on me.
Now I was in a full-blown run down the flight line, glancing back every few moments, still unable to see it but sure it was there. The thing that had been watching me since I got here. The thing that drove a cold shock down my spine. This was it.
My legs pumped like pistons and the sting of cold air shot through my chest with each strained, gasping breath.
I passed the recently harvested cornfield, in which stood two perfectly still Deer judging me for my frantic escape.
It was gaining on me.
Finally I came to the portables. I slammed into the nearest door but it stood firm. I slammed my shoulder into it three more times and it didn’t budge. I remembered my key chain.
I pulled it out and started flipping through the keys. *too many keys*.
First key. No.
Second key. No.
Third key. No.
The fourth key worked, the tumbler clicked and I was in. Slamming the door back in place, I frantically locked it.
My hands were shaking and even though I was panting, I went to the window. The void cast long shadows across the field as it stood transfixed not on me, but on the deer.
“Shhhh” a man’s voice whispered from behind me.
“Oh SWEET JESUS FU-“ I screamed as a hand clamped down on my mouth.
“SHHH.” Sharper this time, commanding. “It’s me.” Will whispered, releasing his hand from my mouth.
“What..” I replied quietly as I turned to see him using his phone to maneuver the drone. “What’s going on? You scared the shit out of me. Nice to meet you by the way I’m..”
He smiled, “You gotta be more careful buddy, Didn’t Gus tell you not to go out into the woods?” Now that I could hear him clearly, his odd vowel pronunciation took me off guard. He’d fit right in, in Venice beach. Surfers. He sounded exactly like how I imagined California Surfers sounded. Very out of place for this part of the country. I shook the thought from my mind.
“I didn’t, I..”
He shushed me and pointed to the deer.
“Just…watch.”
I’d never seen deer stay still so long.
I strained my eyes to see. The shadows, tilled earth and wilted corn husks broke up the terrain making it hard to see what was hidden in plain sight. I’d see movement then have to dismiss it as wind kicking up gentle curtains of soil or the shifting of a shadow from the small movements in the night.
Slowly a thin sharp shadow moved, followed by another, then another. They moved in concert from that enormous void that had followed me.
The deer stood transfixed before it all happened at once.
A mixture of humanlike screams erupted as each of their bodies were slammed into the ground. Viscera painted the wind. In another moment the light went out and I heard Will sigh.
The wind whistled and died, but we could still hear it out there breathing heavily as it gorged itself. From where I stood I could only see a throbbing silhouette breaking the horizon as it went to work. A crisp snap rang out as it pulled limb by limb from the carcass. The throbbing of the shape slowed as a new sound arose. A contented hum made its presence felt through the rattling of the windows and doors and threatened to overwhelm my own beating heart.
The sound rose as the shape slowly moved closer.
“What do we..”
Will shushed me.
I jumped and stifled a scream as a wet, boneless appendage slammed against the window curiously. The doorknob rattled though this time not from the creatures’ purr but from it’s clumsy efforts to open the door and join us inside.
The ceiling creaked above us under a massive weight.
It groaned as if remembering something and suddenly began moving away back towards the trees. There were no footfalls, just the gently receding sound of a blissful purr.
When it finally entered the world beyond its movements melted into those of the swaying branches becoming indiscernible. The more I tried to focus on it the harder it was to recall its form or the impossibility I’d just witnessed.
Will smiled and patted me on the shoulder sadly, “Welcome to Murkintok.”

https://imgur.com/a/VMLvBxR
Seen all of them various times but dont have them in physical form.

I need some help!
I just bought an RCA Home Theater System Model RTD206/207 from a yard sale and had it ready to go, except for one problem. It has no HDMI posts, and only one RCA audio-video connector. It switches between USB, auxiliary, DVD, and Tuner (for radio). I own a PS5, Nintendo Switch, and an Xbox 360, all connected to an HDMI switch for the TV. My TV only has an HDMI, USB, and RCA connectors. How would someone connect a system like this to these items? You guys have any ideas? I'm looking for anything. Feel free to ask questions too. I can answer any questions to help with this.

(I also posted this in /vegaslocals. If reposting here isn't allowed, I apologize, and feel free to take down).
Hey Everybody!!!
I just want to keep you in the loop on what’s going on with Oakland A’s owner John Fisher’s request to have the Nevada Legislature give him up to $380 million in public funds for a new stadium. The Legislative session ENDS MONDAY, which means that they will ram this through very quickly in the next 48 hours or so or call a special session.
NOW IS THE TIME FOR YOU TO SPEAK OUT!!!! I have put together a fairly well-documented argument below demonstrating that this is a bad deal and Fisher is a terrible partner. Please share this post and information as widely as you can! Most importantly, contact members of the Legislature and BE HEARD!!! Be sure to tell them that you live in Nevada!!!
Contact your Assemblyperson and State Senator!!
Assembly contact info: https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/LegislatoA/Assembly/Current
State Senate Contact info: https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/LegislatoA/Senate/Current
If you would like, you could use or modify this sample letter which contains URL links supporting the claims.

Dear Senator or Assemblyperson [Last Name], I am writing to express my strong opposition to the proposed public funding for John Fisher's baseball stadium in Nevada. I believe this project should be stopped for several reasons: Lack of transparency: Fisher and his team deliberately released funding details at the last minute and scheduled the only public hearing on Memorial Day evening, during a Golden Knights playoff game, limiting public awareness and participation. This is a shameful subversion of democracy and I hope you had no part in it. Neglected education system: Nevada ranks 49th out of 50 in educational attainment. Our focus should be on improving public schools, not funding a billionaire's stadium. Unrealistic economic projections: Expert analysis discredits the claim that the stadium will attract an additional 400,000 tourists, which, even if true, would only be a 1% increase on an annual basis. A Stanford economics professor expressed his belief that Fisher’s Stadium will result in the equivalent of a few hundred, permanent, long-term jobs. Fisher’s economic projections are detached from reality and unreliable. Fisher's history: His track record with the San Jose Quakes, another publicly funded stadium venture, raises concerns about his commitment to investing in player payroll and creating a competitive team. Fisher owns the Quakes. After he was given a public handout for a stadium, he did not change or competitively fund his soccer team. Troubled partnerships: Mark Davis of the Raiders, who shared the Oakland Coliseum with the A’s, has expressed frustration with Fisher's management group. MLB owners are also frustrated by doing business with Fisher. Nevada should expect to have the same experience if we proceed. I urge you to oppose public funding for John Fisher's stadium. Let's prioritize transparency, education, and responsible use of public funds for the benefit of all Nevada residents. Thank you for your attention to this matter. Please consider my perspective as you make your decision. Should you require further information or have any questions, I am available to discuss this issue. Sincerely, [Your Name]

Feel free to modify, expand or use as-is. You can also write your own letter too. I'm just trying to make this as easy as possible for everyone so that we are HEARD!
TLDR Bullet Points For Big Argument Below:

• Oakland A’s owner John Fisher, and team President Dave Kaval, strategically released details about stadium funding to minimize public awareness and participation. They released the legislation on Friday of Memorial Day weekend and the only public hearing was on Memorial Day during the Golden Knights playoff game.
• Fisher and Kaval failed to even show up at the Memorial Day hearing, demonstrating a lack of accountability and a disregard for public concerns. They have never publicly answered any questions.
• The prioritization of funding for a sports stadium over public education in Nevada, particularly the Clark County School District, is concerning.
• Economic projections presented by Fisher's lobbyists are questionable and disconnected from reality, as experts have pointed out.
• Fisher's history with the San Jose Quakes of Major League Soccer raises doubts about his commitment to investing in a competitive team with public funds.
• The low payroll of the A's compared to other MLB teams suggests a strategy of minimizing expenses for greater profitability.
• Mark Davis, owner of the Raiders and A's shared the Oakland Coliseum, expressed personal animosity towards Fisher and his management approach. Other MLB owners have expressed similar frustration about doing business with Fisher.
• Elected leaders should consider these concerns and prioritize the needs of the community over the interests of wealthy individuals.

PUBLIC FUNDING FOR JOHN FISHER’S STADIUM MUST BE STOPPED!!!!
1. They Don’t Want to Hear From You
Fisher and Kaval strategically waited until the 11th hour to release details about the handout. From USA Today:

The A’s, their cadre of lobbyists in Nevada and friendly politicians and tourist officials are doing their best to hide the sausage, introducing, finally, legislation for state funding of myriad projects on the Friday night of a holiday weekend, and then offering public discussion on the evening of Memorial Day. Pretty slick! And it sounds like Gov. Joe Lombardo’s signature would be waiting.

The only public hearing on giving away hundreds of millions of dollars occurred on Memorial Day. And not just on Memorial Day — it was in the evening during Game Six of the Western Conference Finals where the Golden Knights punched their tickets to the Stanley Cup Finals. A hearing at 4:00 AM on Christmas morning would have received a higher profile and greater public scrutiny.
They didn’t want you to know about the hearing and your opportunity to be heard. And if, by chance you did hear about it, they didn’t want you to be able to show up and be heard. They are not very subtle about their preference to not hear from you, the unwashed masses.
Guess who else wasn’t there? A’s owner John Fisher and President Dave Kaval. I am not making this up. They didn’t bother to show up to the Memorial Day hearing. They want us to give them hundreds of millions of dollars, but couldn’t be bothered to show up at the hearing and answer questions themselves? Where were they Monday night? What was so important they couldn’t be bothered to show up for a public hearing to answer questions in public? Fisher and his army of lobbyists have had weeks to meet privately with lawmakers behind closed doors. Are you telling me Fisher couldn’t give us regular folks two hours in public?
2. What Are Our Priorities?
There’s no way to sugarcoat it. Nevada, and in particular the Clark County School District, fail to provide adequate public education. Nevada ranks 49th out of 50 for educational attainment. Of the 50 largest metropolitan areas in the United States, Las Vegas ranks second worst for schools. This is unacceptable, yet real education reform is never a priority for the same politicians who are willing to pull the Memorial Day/Stanley Cup Playoff hearing shenanigans for Fisher.
If our elected officials can turn on a dime to hand out hundreds of millions of dollars to a billionaire for a sports stadium, why can’t they act with similar urgency for our disastrous public school system?
Our failed public schools, especially CCSD, are the most significant impediment to economic growth and diversification. The number one reason companies and individuals are reluctant to relocate to Las Vegas are our terrible public schools. If we want to create economic growth, we need to fund and fix our public schools, not build another billionaire a sports stadium.
3. The Numbers Don’t Make Sense. They’re Basically Fraud.
Whenever a billionaire asks the public to finance his stadium, the ask is always accompanied by a series of fantastical economic projections. If you watched the Memorial Day/Stanley Cup Playoff hearing, you saw a powerpoint presentation made by Fisher’s hired lobbyists. The numbers presented by Fisher’s lobbyists aren’t simply slightly embellished, they are disconnected from reality.
First, there is the claim that Fisher’s publicly funded stadium will bring an additional 400,000 tourists. John Mehaffey breaks down this non-sensical claim in the Nevada Independent:

The 400,000 number seems inflated to me. The A’s host 81 baseball games per year. This projection assumes 4,938 tourists at each game that would otherwise not be in Las Vegas. Considering only one American League market is within a reasonable driving distance, most of these tourists would fly to see their home team. Many or most of these tourists would go to two or three games in a series to justify this travel. If the average number is two games, that puts 9,877 visitors in the stadium per home game. If those fans go to an entire three-game series, that number is 14,815. If the 1.8 million locals attendance prediction is accurate, and visiting fans tend to go to a series as opposed to just one game, the A’s project that they will sell out the stadium's 35,000-seat capacity every home game. If visitors go to only two games, that is 90 percent of capacity. That is a bold projection for a team that was last in attendance in 2022 and at the bottom so far in 2023, especially since no MLB team comes close to selling out all its home games. The lack of flights makes 400,000 new visitors seem impossible Most teams that would visit the Las Vegas A’s stadium are in the American League. Most are in the east where nonstop flights to Las Vegas are scarce. For example, I found five or fewer nonstop flights per day from six of the other 14 American League cities. Four of those six teams had home stadium attendance below 20,000 per game in 2022. It’s hard to imagine that 10,000 or 15,000 fans will fly across the country for a series when that is around the average attendance for the 81 home games in their own cities. Some displaced fans may be within driving distance, but the point is one that needs to be considered. Las Vegas would need dozens of flights per series that don’t exist to accommodate this prediction.

Mehaffey also points out that Miami, which recently built a publicly financed stadium, also has 40 million visitors a year, just like Las Vegas. However, the Miami metro is substantially larger than Las Vegas. “In 2022, the Miami Marlins averaged 11,204 per game. A market with a much larger metro population that posts similar tourism numbers does not come close to the A’s projections. There is no reason to think Las Vegas will be different.”
Stanford economics professor Roger Noll agrees with Mehaffey that the attendance numbers Fisher projects are not credible. From USA Today:

“Baseball is different than the NFL,” Roger Noll, professor of economics emeritus at Stanford University, tells USA TODAY Sports. “This notion that of those 162 baseball games, I've got to see those three that are between the A's and the Royals in Las Vegas - it's just nonsense, right? It's not true, it's not going to happen. “That's the fundamental reason why economists, when they do research on the impact of sports teams, typically find that the effect on local incomes and employment is slightly negative.”

But what about job creation?

Noll says the hours that stadium workers put in – for 81 games a year – computes to roughly 15% of a full-time job. “So the 500 people who work at the stadium on game day, you got to multiply that by .15 to get the number of full-time equivalent jobs, which means it's less than 100. Wow,” says Noll. “You know, $1.5 billion to create less than 100 jobs, right? Wow.”

4. Grossly Underfunded Payroll
The total payroll for the 2023 A’s is just $59,630,474, just 37% of the MLB average payroll of $116,112,414 and just 17% of the highest-spending New York Mets ($345,474,042). To provide context, the highest paid players in the league, Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander, will each make $43,333,333. Verlander’s salary, by itself, is 72% of the entire A’s roster!
This meager spending is by choice, not necessity. It’s a strategy that works. From Sports Illustrated:

The A's were a top-5 team in 2022. Not on the field. The A's finished with a 60-102 record, second-worst only ahead of the Washington Nationals. On the spreadsheets though, they netted $62.2 million according to a report from Forbes. The only teams they finished behind were the revamped Seattle Mariners who made the playoffs for the first time in two decades, the San Francisco Giants, the Boston Red Sox, and the Baltimore Orioles who had a Mariners-esque upswing and an A's-esque payroll.

When the A’s do develop talent, they quickly jettison those players to avoid paying them their true worth on the market. As Review-Journal columnist Ed Graney explained, when Fisher’s A’s have experienced success, the response has been to break down the team and sell off the parts. Graney concluded: “John Fisher is an owner with deep, deep pockets who (incredibly) has always acted in a way that he can’t afford to hand out exorbitant contracts to his best players. About him, an overwhelmingly popular opinion is that he simply doesn’t want to.”
Why do this? Wouldn’t a competitive team generate more revenue? In Major League Baseball, there is a revenue sharing agreement among the franchises, intended to help smaller markets field competitive teams. Fisher uses revenue sharing, and dumping talent, to be one of the most profitable owners in baseball. From the New York Post:

At least a few rival MLB club owners are annoyed at the Athletics for conducting a major fire sale to enhance their bottom line soon after being added as a new revenue-sharing recipient in a vote by owners. “The idea of revenue sharing is not to make money, it’s to field a competitive team,” one rival owner complained Thursday during the owners’ meetings at MLB headquarters in Midtown. “That money is supposed to go toward player salaries. [The A’s] took the money and put it in their pocket.” Yet another owner, also upset that the A’s didn’t use the money to buy new players, but instead did the opposite and sold three major stars and drastically cut their payroll, referred to the franchise generally as “a mess.”

Fisher will not fund a competitive team in Las Vegas if we give him a stadium handout. That would destroy his very profitable business strategy. Why would he do that? The payroll of the Las Vegas A’s will be 30th out of 30 MLB teams, just like the Oakland A’s.
5. History Repeating: Quakes Publicly Funded Stadium
There seems to be some hopeful thinking that if we give John Fisher a stadium handout, he will increase the A’s payroll to become more competitive. A’s President Dave Kaval stirred excitement when he insinuated that the franchise would bankroll a World Series championship team with a new stadium in Las Vegas. “But with more revenues, we want to turn a playoff team into a World Series team. That’s why we’re fighting so hard for a new stadium, whether it’s in Las Vegas or Oakland,” Kaval told the Review-Journal.
Many people, including our elected officials, want to believe this, in good faith. It would be awesome to have a Las Vegas MLB franchise win a World Series!
This isn’t Fisher’s first rodeo with a publicly funded stadium. Fisher is also the owner of the San Jose Quakes of Major League Soccer. From an Associated Press article in the May 25, 2006 Salinas Californian on public financing for a new Quakes stadium: “The Quakes won MLS championships in 2001 and 2003 led by former star forward Landon Donovan but attendance slid to an average of just 13,037 fans last season.” Sound familiar?
So what happened? Did Fisher increase player payroll once he obtained his publicly financed soccer stadium?
From the San Jose Mercury News:

Out of the 29 MLS teams, the Earthquakes rank 21st in guaranteed player compensation and base salary, both on a per-player and teamwide basis. The Earthquakes’ average salary came in at $434,079, nearly $100,000 lower than the overall average salary for an MLS player ($530,467). San Jose’s total spending ($13.022 million) comes in at more than $2.8 million below the average team spending across the league (15.822 million). It’s a continued trend for the Quakes, even after they moved into the state-of-the-art PayPal Park in 2015. The Earthquakes have consistently ranked in the bottom half of the league in spending, per Spotrac, even as the MLS has continued to add new expansion teams over the years. Earthquakes spending rank in MLS by year · 2015 (20 teams) — 15th · 2016 (20 teams) — 11th · 2017 (22 teams) — 16th · 2018 (23 teams) — 19th · 2019 (24 teams) — 19th · 2020 (26 teams) — 17th · 2021 (27 teams) — 24th · 2022 (28 teams) — 22nd · 2023 (29 teams) — 21st That has been reflected in on-field results, too. Since the Earthquakes moved into their new home, they have never finished a season with more wins than losses — the closest they came was in that first year, at 13 wins, 13 losses and eight draws.

Nevada should expect Fisher to act in the future as he has in the past. His business strategy is clear: spend as little as possible on player payroll regardless of venue. If Nevada gives Fisher a handout, nobody — nobody — can act surprised when his miserly payroll does not change.
The Raiders and A’s shared the Oakland Coliseum for decades. Aces and Raiders owner Mark Davis is very familiar with what it means to “partner” with John Fisher. Davis did not hold back when he spoke with the Review-Journal:

“I won’t forget what they did to us in Oakland. They squatted on a lease for 10 years and made it impossible for us to build on that stadium,” the Raiders owner said in a phone chat Thursday afternoon, referring to the stadium the A’s and Raiders once shared, the Oakland Coliseum. “They were looking for a stadium. We were looking for a stadium. They didn’t want to build a stadium, and then went ahead and signed a 10-year lease with the city of Oakland and said, ‘We’re the base team.’” … Davis was asked if he could envision an environment where the Silver and Black would cross-promote with the green-and-gold Las Vegas Athletics. “Not with that management group,” Davis said. “I just have, again, a lot of personal animosity toward the front office. But with a new management group? Absolutely.”

Mark Davis did business with John Fisher for decades. Davis knows Fisher. Nobody in Nevada has done business with Fisher as much as Davis. Davis’ reaction to Fisher, basically unfiltered instinctual revulsion, should be a massive red flag to our elected leaders who are being plied with sweet nothings by Fisher’s hired guns.
Sources:
“A’s Stadium Math Doesn’t Add Up.” The Nevada Independent, May 30, 2023. https://thenevadaindependent.com/article/as-stadium-math-doesnt-add-up.
Graney, Ed. “Graney: A’s Penny-Pinching a Reason for Las Vegas to Reassess.” Journal, March 18, 2022. https://www.reviewjournal.com/sports/sports-columns/ed-graney/graney-as-penny-pinching-a-reason-for-las-vegas-to-reassess-2547852/.
Gutierrez, Ana. “Nevada Ranks as the Second Least Educated State in America.” KLAS, February 17, 2022. https://www.8newsnow.com/news/local-news/nevada-ranks-as-the-second-least-educated-state-in-america/.
Jenkins, Bruce. “MLB Has Punished Other Owners. Why Is A’s John Fisher Getting a Pass?” San Francisco Chronicle, June 3, 2023. https://www.sfchronicle.com/sports/jenkins/article/john-fisher-mlb-oakland-18130516.php.
Katsilometes, John. “Raiders Owner Rips Oakland Athletics’ Likely Move to Las Vegas.” Journal, April 27, 2023. https://www.reviewjournal.com/entertainment/entertainment-columns/kats/raiders-owner-rips-oakland-athletics-likely-move-to-las-vegas-2765229/?xxyy.
Lacques, Gabe. “Why A’s Las Vegas Stadium Gambit May Be a Losing Bet: ‘It’s Just Nonsense.’” USA Today, June 1, 2023. https://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/mlb/athletics/2023/06/01/oakland-as-move-las-vegas-stadium-gambit-losing-bet/70277528007/.
Lozito, Nick. “‘this Is Not Our Fault:’ Oakland A’s Fans Are Defending Their Image.” The Oaklandside, May 5, 2023. https://oaklandside.org/2023/05/01/oakland-athletics-leaving-las-vegas-john-fisher-dave-kaval-fans/.
“MLB 2023 Payroll Tracker.” Spotrac.com. Accessed June 3, 2023. https://www.spotrac.com/mlb/payroll/.
Oakland Athletics made over $60 million in 2023 - Sports Illustrated ... Accessed June 4, 2023. https://www.si.com/mlb/athletics/news/oakland-athletics-made-over-60-million-in-2023.
Shea, John. “Don’t Believe John Fisher’s Propaganda: A’s Fans Are the Best in Baseball.” San Francisco Chronicle, June 1, 2023. https://www.sfchronicle.com/sports/athletics/article/oakland-a-s-fans-aren-t-reason-team-las-vegas-18126429.php.
Simon, Alex. “Would New Oakland A’s Ballpark Lead to More Spending? John Fisher’s Other Team Shows That May Not Be the Case.” The Mercury News, May 17, 2023. https://www.mercurynews.com/2023/05/16/would-new-oakland-as-ballpark-lead-to-more-spending-john-fishers-other-team-shows-that-may-not-be-the-case/.
Wootton-Greener, Julie. “Las Vegas Area Schools Ranked Second-Worst in Nation for Quality.” Journal, December 9, 2021. https://www.reviewjournal.com/local/education/las-vegas-area-schools-ranked-second-worst-in-nation-for-quality-2493177/.