A Funny Thing Happened.....
Moderator: TMAX
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Jones'n4chrome
- Posts: 778
- Joined: Mon Dec 31, 2007 3:10 pm
Yep, still hitched together. But they had some real adjustments along the way, I guess we all do actually!
My dad did not tolerate my two brothers and I "acting up" in the car. Acting up could involve fighting, arguing, pushing, whatever! We would trade punches, knuckle dusters, etc until someone got mad and let out a yelp. After a while, my dad would say "Don't make me pull this car over"!
(That would mess up his time!)
Of course we knew the drill, it was not real serious until he raised his voice a full octave and said "DON'T make me pull this car over and take off my BELT!" (That could really mess up his time, and his temper!) Then we knew we were treading on dangerous grounds and we would back off a notch or two if we knew what was good for us.
To save time, sometimes my dad would reach around and take a "swing slap" at us, (think a three stooges kind of rapid slap that collects all three kids in one swipe in machine gun rapidity). You learned to sink low and way back in the seat if things were getting too heated up and you knew he was in a hurry and could not stop to take off his belt (all that wasted time again!), so the triple header slap could be coming up!
But- even with all the drama of traveling with my parents not withstanding, I still loved to travel, especially in the summer when I could have the window down and smell all those summer smells. Fresh mowed hay, diesel bus fumes, (everything passed us in those days including the Greyhound buses because my dad was a genuine pioneer of the "hyper-milege" technique of driving) hot pavement, etc.
I suppose one of the reasons I have a fascination with buses comes from those long ago days of riding in the back of the '47 Studebaker Champion or the '49 Ford and seeing the Greyhound or Continental Trailways bus pass us and I wondered what exotic destination all those folks were headed to. I was sure there had to be someplace else to go then your grandparents but I just could not figure out what it might be when I was only 9.
My dad did not tolerate my two brothers and I "acting up" in the car. Acting up could involve fighting, arguing, pushing, whatever! We would trade punches, knuckle dusters, etc until someone got mad and let out a yelp. After a while, my dad would say "Don't make me pull this car over"!
(That would mess up his time!)
Of course we knew the drill, it was not real serious until he raised his voice a full octave and said "DON'T make me pull this car over and take off my BELT!" (That could really mess up his time, and his temper!) Then we knew we were treading on dangerous grounds and we would back off a notch or two if we knew what was good for us.
To save time, sometimes my dad would reach around and take a "swing slap" at us, (think a three stooges kind of rapid slap that collects all three kids in one swipe in machine gun rapidity). You learned to sink low and way back in the seat if things were getting too heated up and you knew he was in a hurry and could not stop to take off his belt (all that wasted time again!), so the triple header slap could be coming up!
But- even with all the drama of traveling with my parents not withstanding, I still loved to travel, especially in the summer when I could have the window down and smell all those summer smells. Fresh mowed hay, diesel bus fumes, (everything passed us in those days including the Greyhound buses because my dad was a genuine pioneer of the "hyper-milege" technique of driving) hot pavement, etc.
I suppose one of the reasons I have a fascination with buses comes from those long ago days of riding in the back of the '47 Studebaker Champion or the '49 Ford and seeing the Greyhound or Continental Trailways bus pass us and I wondered what exotic destination all those folks were headed to. I was sure there had to be someplace else to go then your grandparents but I just could not figure out what it might be when I was only 9.
No Bob, just an ex-high school teacher by professional training and currently a jack of all trades being a master of none! But I always enjoyed reading good books as a kid, read alot of Mark Twain, Bret Harte, etc and I am sure that has influenced me alot. Plus I enjoy observing people, and try to see the good and the humor in folks and different situations. There is enough sorrow and sadness in the world that it can drag a person down if we can't have a good laugh every now and then!
My son is an english and writing professor at a University in Washington state. So maby the acorn did not fall too far from the tree!
The real pro is Sharkey! But it is getting harder and harder to shake loose all those words and thoughts collected in his head! Perhaps that is how all good writers are, they just dole it out sparingly at times. If they were more prolific they would work for some television sit com in Hollywood.
I try and refrain from badgering Sharkey too much about writing more chapters for his book about 30 years in a housetruck. I don't want to give him writer's block!
My son is an english and writing professor at a University in Washington state. So maby the acorn did not fall too far from the tree!
The real pro is Sharkey! But it is getting harder and harder to shake loose all those words and thoughts collected in his head! Perhaps that is how all good writers are, they just dole it out sparingly at times. If they were more prolific they would work for some television sit com in Hollywood.
I try and refrain from badgering Sharkey too much about writing more chapters for his book about 30 years in a housetruck. I don't want to give him writer's block!
DB, Here are some photos that may bring back memories. This is a 1949 Ford. I always thought they looked a lot like a Studebaker.
Below are a few 1947 Studebakers.
Below are a few 1947 Studebakers.
Last edited by Rudy on Sat Jan 30, 2010 7:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
Well, It's time for another story. The first year of high school was at the old William H. Hall high school. The second two years was at the brand new school. But, you may ask, that's only three years. That's because we had ninth grade at the junior high.
Getting back to the old Hall High, there was one day where the whole school was in the auditorium to hear speeches from the principle and a few guest speakers.
Having been seated towards the rear, and in close proximity to my brother, I motioned to him that we should try to sneak out. That is what we did.
Now it was time to have fun. We went to the attic of the auditorium. There we found that the ceiling lamps were on chains that had manual cranking devices to lower them in order to change the bulbs from below.
Naturally, when that process was done by the maintenance crew, they would line up all twenty of them level.
Well, me and my brother spent a half hour slowly lowering all the 20 lights to different heights.
We then secretly returned to the auditorium to see our handiwork. Nobody had even noticed what we did.
I bet the janitor eventually wondered how those lights happened to be so askew!
Getting back to the old Hall High, there was one day where the whole school was in the auditorium to hear speeches from the principle and a few guest speakers.
Having been seated towards the rear, and in close proximity to my brother, I motioned to him that we should try to sneak out. That is what we did.
Now it was time to have fun. We went to the attic of the auditorium. There we found that the ceiling lamps were on chains that had manual cranking devices to lower them in order to change the bulbs from below.
Naturally, when that process was done by the maintenance crew, they would line up all twenty of them level.
Well, me and my brother spent a half hour slowly lowering all the 20 lights to different heights.
We then secretly returned to the auditorium to see our handiwork. Nobody had even noticed what we did.
I bet the janitor eventually wondered how those lights happened to be so askew!
Ahhhh, high school hijinks. Why didn't you say so?
It was a well known fact that with a little effort, you could climb up on top of our high school due to roofs at various levels. We had been rummaging around underneath the stadiium and discovered some old sideline markers that had been made from old tires. The beads had been cut out and the tires turned inside out, as I recall.
Somehow, we came up with the brilliant idea of hauling several of these up on the roof and attempting to ring one or more on the flag pole. After several attempts, the closest we could get was hitting the pole and getting it rocking back and forth. Though we came close, we never got one over the pole and eventually gave up. Instead, we ran one of the tires up the flag pole. It took two or three of us to get it all the way to the top and tie it off, never givinga thought to what would happen when the janitor loosened that rope to put the flag up.
We all gathered across the street, as was customary before school and watched as the ususpecting janitor came out to raise the flags for the day. He untied the rope and it was all he could do to get out of the way as the tire screamed down the height of that flag pole! We thought it was funny at the time, but I'm sure we would have thought otherwise had that tire hurt anybody.
Mark
It was a well known fact that with a little effort, you could climb up on top of our high school due to roofs at various levels. We had been rummaging around underneath the stadiium and discovered some old sideline markers that had been made from old tires. The beads had been cut out and the tires turned inside out, as I recall.
Somehow, we came up with the brilliant idea of hauling several of these up on the roof and attempting to ring one or more on the flag pole. After several attempts, the closest we could get was hitting the pole and getting it rocking back and forth. Though we came close, we never got one over the pole and eventually gave up. Instead, we ran one of the tires up the flag pole. It took two or three of us to get it all the way to the top and tie it off, never givinga thought to what would happen when the janitor loosened that rope to put the flag up.
We all gathered across the street, as was customary before school and watched as the ususpecting janitor came out to raise the flags for the day. He untied the rope and it was all he could do to get out of the way as the tire screamed down the height of that flag pole! We thought it was funny at the time, but I'm sure we would have thought otherwise had that tire hurt anybody.
Mark
One of my favorite jokes:
The farmer has three daughters who are coming of the dating age. One afternoon, all three of them ask him if they can go out on a date that evening. He agrees.
The first guy shows up at the door and says " Hi, I'm Joe, I'm here for Flo, we're going to the show, is she ready to go?"
The farmer laughs and says, sure.
The second guy shows up ten minutes later and says "Hi, I'm Freddy, I'm here for Betty, we're going for spaghetti, is she ready?"
The farmer laughs and says, sure.
Ten minutes later, the third guy shows up and says "Hi, I'm Chuck". The farmer says "SHE'S NOT GOING!".
The farmer has three daughters who are coming of the dating age. One afternoon, all three of them ask him if they can go out on a date that evening. He agrees.
The first guy shows up at the door and says " Hi, I'm Joe, I'm here for Flo, we're going to the show, is she ready to go?"
The farmer laughs and says, sure.
The second guy shows up ten minutes later and says "Hi, I'm Freddy, I'm here for Betty, we're going for spaghetti, is she ready?"
The farmer laughs and says, sure.
Ten minutes later, the third guy shows up and says "Hi, I'm Chuck". The farmer says "SHE'S NOT GOING!".
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Jones'n4chrome
- Posts: 778
- Joined: Mon Dec 31, 2007 3:10 pm
Rudy, that '49 Ford looks just like my dad's old car. My mom had the Studebaker for her car. Dad's Ford was a black 4-dr like the one in the picture but I think he only had the flat head 6-cylinder since he was the original cheapskate, and had, I believe, invented the hyper-mileage technique of driving. At least it seemed so to me at the time.
He would get a run at the hills, and then on the other side he would shut off the engine and coast to the bottom, turning on the engine in time to build speed to get a run at the next hill, and so on. The only thing we ever really passed was an occasional farm tractor on the way to the next field. It appears in retrospect that not only did he want to save time by not making potty stops, but it would have fouled up his fuel mpg records he was attempting to set if he would have had to stop and start at an inconvienant time and place such as on a hill.
I suppose this actually left us more time to really look at and study all the geographical features of the land we were traveling thru, and to have more time to appreciate rural America, because we saw alot of it at very slow speeds.
My Dad found a Crosley station wagon to replace the old Ford in about 1960 as I recall. The Crosely was only about a half step above a horse and wagon for comfort and speed. It taught a person patience, humility, and an appreciation for better modes of travel like bicycles, roller skates, etc. I found what was left of the old Crosley years later in one of our old neighbor's fields, and I got permission from him to remove the hood ornament as a keepsake. I keep it in my shop where I can see it, to remind me when I complain about my current mode of transportation that things could always be worse!
I suppose some of the readers may have wondered "how did DB's dad set speed records and yet really go slower to set fuel MPG records at the same time?" It was a delicate balance- maintain speed by not stopping for anything, but not go to fast so as to lower your average mpg for the trip.
This tension between two opposing schools of thought regarding the best methods of auto travel may have been the actual reasons our cross country trips were so odd yet fascinating.
He would get a run at the hills, and then on the other side he would shut off the engine and coast to the bottom, turning on the engine in time to build speed to get a run at the next hill, and so on. The only thing we ever really passed was an occasional farm tractor on the way to the next field. It appears in retrospect that not only did he want to save time by not making potty stops, but it would have fouled up his fuel mpg records he was attempting to set if he would have had to stop and start at an inconvienant time and place such as on a hill.
I suppose this actually left us more time to really look at and study all the geographical features of the land we were traveling thru, and to have more time to appreciate rural America, because we saw alot of it at very slow speeds.
My Dad found a Crosley station wagon to replace the old Ford in about 1960 as I recall. The Crosely was only about a half step above a horse and wagon for comfort and speed. It taught a person patience, humility, and an appreciation for better modes of travel like bicycles, roller skates, etc. I found what was left of the old Crosley years later in one of our old neighbor's fields, and I got permission from him to remove the hood ornament as a keepsake. I keep it in my shop where I can see it, to remind me when I complain about my current mode of transportation that things could always be worse!
I suppose some of the readers may have wondered "how did DB's dad set speed records and yet really go slower to set fuel MPG records at the same time?" It was a delicate balance- maintain speed by not stopping for anything, but not go to fast so as to lower your average mpg for the trip.
This tension between two opposing schools of thought regarding the best methods of auto travel may have been the actual reasons our cross country trips were so odd yet fascinating.
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Jones'n4chrome
- Posts: 778
- Joined: Mon Dec 31, 2007 3:10 pm
The best thing about the Crosley wagon was that you could hold more people to push it up the next hill.
I think your dad & my dad might have been cloned as fuel misers, he did many of the same things. He had a 1966 Plymouth Valiant with a 170 slant six engine & 3 on the tree, I can't tell you how many miles we coasted downhill in that car.
The funnest story about MPG, a lady that worked with my mother was obsessed with good gas milage, everyone at work had to hear about it constantly, so when she bought a new car she bragged about the MPG's for about 15 days, everyone at work was tired of hearing about it, little did they know the ladys husband was totaly sick of hearing about it. After about 15 days of bragging that not only did she not have to fill up yet, she said the needle on the gauge had not dropped at all, well one night, a few days latter she caught her husband in the garage topping off the car from a 5 gallon can, he had been doing it since the car was new. She was a good sport about it, she told everyone at work about it.
I think your dad & my dad might have been cloned as fuel misers, he did many of the same things. He had a 1966 Plymouth Valiant with a 170 slant six engine & 3 on the tree, I can't tell you how many miles we coasted downhill in that car.
The funnest story about MPG, a lady that worked with my mother was obsessed with good gas milage, everyone at work had to hear about it constantly, so when she bought a new car she bragged about the MPG's for about 15 days, everyone at work was tired of hearing about it, little did they know the ladys husband was totaly sick of hearing about it. After about 15 days of bragging that not only did she not have to fill up yet, she said the needle on the gauge had not dropped at all, well one night, a few days latter she caught her husband in the garage topping off the car from a 5 gallon can, he had been doing it since the car was new. She was a good sport about it, she told everyone at work about it.
Last edited by Jones'n4chrome on Wed Mar 17, 2010 5:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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TMAX
- Officer Hormel
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- Location: Bellflower, California
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Hi Rudy and thank you for posting the pictures of the Ford and Studebaker. Brought back some good memories. When first being able to drive (legally), friends of my parents would let me drive their 1950 Ford (almost identical to the 1949). What a great car. It was quiet with the flathead V8, 3 speed and overdrive, nearly flat floor (very small transmission / drive line hump), and perhaps one of the best, full toned AM radios ever put into a car (8 tubes).
I am most fortunate in that I presently have a 1962 Ford Galaxie convertible with of all things a 3 on the tree shifter. Brings back good memories every time I take it out. It seems as if almost every time I take anyone under 35 years old, it's the first time they have ever seen this type of shifting arrangement in a car. On the down side, I can't seem to locate any 19 cent a gallon gas for it.
TMAX
I am most fortunate in that I presently have a 1962 Ford Galaxie convertible with of all things a 3 on the tree shifter. Brings back good memories every time I take it out. It seems as if almost every time I take anyone under 35 years old, it's the first time they have ever seen this type of shifting arrangement in a car. On the down side, I can't seem to locate any 19 cent a gallon gas for it.
TMAX
ChromeJones, after the Crosley wagon, and in a very mis-guided attempt at even better fuel mileage, my dad thought he would try a VW bug. This was after the infamous incident when my mom ended up in the ditch with her knickers around her ankles. After that, he seemed resigned to his fate of never being a real contender ever again in the time trials.
But- he could hope to really shine when it came to fuel mileage with that VW bug. He had not really given up his obsession with the desire to always beat his previous time though, but he re-directed this obsession into a new direction: The Bladder Endurance Tests.
This is how it worked- you all lined up to pee before you got in the car, and WOE! to the person who asked to stop and go once the car was rolling. This still was linked in Dad's mind somehow to getting "good time" but it was never quite the same again as in the old days. We all just had to learn the tricks of getting and keeping a really large bladder and using extreme bladder control. And in a VW bug crammed with all us kids you could not really expect "good time". Hence, I suspect this is how his new obsession with "never having to stop once you got rolling" was born.
In those days of the grossly underpowered VW bug, you really did not want to stop forward momentum once you got rolling due to the fact that it was hard to get it up to speed. 0 to 60 was in the next time zone. You learned the fine art of drafting semi-trucks and you kept your air pressure in the tires up near the redline! The extra rough ride did not help the over extended bladders either, but hey- we were rolling, sort of!
I forgot to mention that about this time my 1st of 3 sisters arrived, so with us 3 boys and now my sister and all her extra baggage you carried for the baby in those days, it was a tight fit! And it seemed that there was always my great-grandmother coming along on those trips for some reason. So Great-Grandmother Endicott rode shotgun up front along side my dad the driver, my mom, baby sister and us three boys were in the back. Notice I did not say back "seat". Two of us always ended up in the well behind the back seat in front of the rear window.
This was the space reserved for really bad kids, sort of a claustrophobic torture chamber. The Viet Cong at the Hanoi Hilton had nothing over my dad when it came to cruel and unusual punishment. And to be stuck back there with your obnoxious brother whose fault it was that you were back there to begin with....... (as you can tell, I still carry the psychological scars with me to this day!)
The worst part was when a car with cute girls passed us and they always pointed and laughed at the two dorks in the back of the VW. Other kids in large land yachts and luxo-barge station wagons (real cars) seemed to look at us with disdain and genuine horror as they passed. If this were to happen today, my poor folks would have been locked up for genuine child abuse and endangerment!
Traveling in that VW bug, plus a latter stint owning one of those infernal contraptions gave me a distaste for VW beetles. I was glad when the hoped for great gas mileage did not pan out (with the way it was overloaded it was a wonder it could even move on it's own!) and my dad traded it for a '55 Chevy 4 door sedan. At least there were rear doors you could get out of (if and when my dad would make a very rare and unsuspected stop) and you were not always trapped like a rat in the back of that ugly little VW. And there was room to duck down when a car with a cute girl passed and your dorky older brother was sleeping with his head on your shoulder!
But- he could hope to really shine when it came to fuel mileage with that VW bug. He had not really given up his obsession with the desire to always beat his previous time though, but he re-directed this obsession into a new direction: The Bladder Endurance Tests.
This is how it worked- you all lined up to pee before you got in the car, and WOE! to the person who asked to stop and go once the car was rolling. This still was linked in Dad's mind somehow to getting "good time" but it was never quite the same again as in the old days. We all just had to learn the tricks of getting and keeping a really large bladder and using extreme bladder control. And in a VW bug crammed with all us kids you could not really expect "good time". Hence, I suspect this is how his new obsession with "never having to stop once you got rolling" was born.
In those days of the grossly underpowered VW bug, you really did not want to stop forward momentum once you got rolling due to the fact that it was hard to get it up to speed. 0 to 60 was in the next time zone. You learned the fine art of drafting semi-trucks and you kept your air pressure in the tires up near the redline! The extra rough ride did not help the over extended bladders either, but hey- we were rolling, sort of!
I forgot to mention that about this time my 1st of 3 sisters arrived, so with us 3 boys and now my sister and all her extra baggage you carried for the baby in those days, it was a tight fit! And it seemed that there was always my great-grandmother coming along on those trips for some reason. So Great-Grandmother Endicott rode shotgun up front along side my dad the driver, my mom, baby sister and us three boys were in the back. Notice I did not say back "seat". Two of us always ended up in the well behind the back seat in front of the rear window.
This was the space reserved for really bad kids, sort of a claustrophobic torture chamber. The Viet Cong at the Hanoi Hilton had nothing over my dad when it came to cruel and unusual punishment. And to be stuck back there with your obnoxious brother whose fault it was that you were back there to begin with....... (as you can tell, I still carry the psychological scars with me to this day!)
The worst part was when a car with cute girls passed us and they always pointed and laughed at the two dorks in the back of the VW. Other kids in large land yachts and luxo-barge station wagons (real cars) seemed to look at us with disdain and genuine horror as they passed. If this were to happen today, my poor folks would have been locked up for genuine child abuse and endangerment!
Traveling in that VW bug, plus a latter stint owning one of those infernal contraptions gave me a distaste for VW beetles. I was glad when the hoped for great gas mileage did not pan out (with the way it was overloaded it was a wonder it could even move on it's own!) and my dad traded it for a '55 Chevy 4 door sedan. At least there were rear doors you could get out of (if and when my dad would make a very rare and unsuspected stop) and you were not always trapped like a rat in the back of that ugly little VW. And there was room to duck down when a car with a cute girl passed and your dorky older brother was sleeping with his head on your shoulder!
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Dennis The Bus Dweller
- Seasoned Nomadicista
- Posts: 1874
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- Location: Southold N.Y.
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The Perfect Husband
The Perfect Husband
Several men are in the locker room of a golf club.
A cell phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands
free speaker-function and begins to talk..
Everyone else in the room stops to listen.
MAN: "Hello."
WOMAN: "Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?"
MAN: "Yes."
WOMAN: "I am at the mall now and found this beautiful
leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK if I buy
it?"
MAN: "Sure, go ahead if you like it that much."
WOMAN: "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and
saw the new 2009 models. I saw one I really liked."
MAN: "How much?"
WOMAN: "$140,000."
MAN: "OK, but for that price, I want it with all the options."
WOMAN: "Great! Oh, and one more thing
......the house I wanted last year is back on the market.
They're asking $950,000."
MAN: "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer
of
$900,000. They will probably take it. If not, we can go the
extra 50 thousand. It is really a pretty good price."
WOMAN: "OK. I'll see you later!I love you so much!!"
MAN: "Bye! I love you, too."
The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are
staring at him in astonishment, mouths agape.....
Then he smiles and asks: "Anyone know who this phone
belongs to?"
Several men are in the locker room of a golf club.
A cell phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands
free speaker-function and begins to talk..
Everyone else in the room stops to listen.
MAN: "Hello."
WOMAN: "Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?"
MAN: "Yes."
WOMAN: "I am at the mall now and found this beautiful
leather coat. It's only $1,000. Is it OK if I buy
it?"
MAN: "Sure, go ahead if you like it that much."
WOMAN: "I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and
saw the new 2009 models. I saw one I really liked."
MAN: "How much?"
WOMAN: "$140,000."
MAN: "OK, but for that price, I want it with all the options."
WOMAN: "Great! Oh, and one more thing
......the house I wanted last year is back on the market.
They're asking $950,000."
MAN: "Well, then go ahead and give them an offer
of
$900,000. They will probably take it. If not, we can go the
extra 50 thousand. It is really a pretty good price."
WOMAN: "OK. I'll see you later!I love you so much!!"
MAN: "Bye! I love you, too."
The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are
staring at him in astonishment, mouths agape.....
Then he smiles and asks: "Anyone know who this phone
belongs to?"
Peace along the way
Dennis the bus dweller N.Y.
Dennis the bus dweller N.Y.
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