A Funny Thing Happened.....
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Dennis The Bus Dweller
- Seasoned Nomadicista
- Posts: 1883
- Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 9:33 am
- Location: Southold N.Y.
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GoodClue, your story reminds me of an experience I had in Canada years ago. In 1971 my dad and I left SW Idaho for a short weekend road trip up thru Idaho to the north border with Canada, and accross the border so we could say we had been to Canada. I had decided to go to Cranbrook, and turn around and head back home. Most of the weekend therefore was spent driving, but hey- I was young and had a new car and my dad was along for the father-son bonding thing.
We made it accross the border at night, and a few miles further on we were beat, so we decided to camp out for the night. It appeared that there were nothing but woods and forest, so we pulled off the highway down a side road, and parked in a wide spot. We pulled out our camping gear consisting of a large piece of plastic to lay on, and our sleeping bags. Off to dreamland.......
We were wakened at dawn by the sound of hammers, and saws, and other construction sounds. Seems we had pulled into a housing develepment and had bedded down for the night in the front of a house under construction. I am sure the construction workers wondered what these 2 guys were doing sleeping on a large piece of plastic on the ground in front of a house under construction.
We tried to quickly slink away, well aware of the stares and amusement of the faces of those workers.
Thankfully the rest of the trip was more or less uneventful...........
The moral of this story is that one should never just assume anything about the lay of the land in the dark. While it appeared to be rugged forest land, it was in fact on the edge of town in a construction zone.
We made it accross the border at night, and a few miles further on we were beat, so we decided to camp out for the night. It appeared that there were nothing but woods and forest, so we pulled off the highway down a side road, and parked in a wide spot. We pulled out our camping gear consisting of a large piece of plastic to lay on, and our sleeping bags. Off to dreamland.......
We were wakened at dawn by the sound of hammers, and saws, and other construction sounds. Seems we had pulled into a housing develepment and had bedded down for the night in the front of a house under construction. I am sure the construction workers wondered what these 2 guys were doing sleeping on a large piece of plastic on the ground in front of a house under construction.
We tried to quickly slink away, well aware of the stares and amusement of the faces of those workers.
Thankfully the rest of the trip was more or less uneventful...........
The moral of this story is that one should never just assume anything about the lay of the land in the dark. While it appeared to be rugged forest land, it was in fact on the edge of town in a construction zone.
I am working at the music store. At the front of the main counter is a couch on which customers can sit.
Dave is sitting there during his lunch time. He works for us. He is reading the newspaper which he holds high enough to block his view of me sneaking up on him from behind the counter.
The front door of the store is open. It is a balmy, windy day.
I sneak up on Dave and light his newspaper on fire. He holds the paper and lets the fire ring get somewhat large before he releases it with not so much as an excited reaction, as if it really was not occurring.
Amazingly, the newspaper, riddling with flame magically transports itself out the front door at the same time that my girlfriend and a friend of her's walks in.
What I heard then caused me to ask twice" What did you say"?
The answer was, "there's a naked man in the parking lot"!
Of course, this necessitated investigation.
It was true. There WAS a naked man in the parking lot.
You may wonder what this particular scene looked like. Let me say that the whole episode of Dave's newspaper being transported out the door in a ring of fire, coupled with what I saw when I went out that door, was somewhat mystical.
There, was a tall slim man, with long black hair, standing naked to the wind with his arms held above his head and his hands clasped in a prayerful motion.
I must admit that it took thirty seconds to realize the actuality of what I was seeing.
So I came back into the store. Dave was still expressionless on the couch.
My girlfriend, and her friend, suggested that I should do something about this situation. I agreed.
I went out to where this "magic man" was standing, and said to him" Hi, perhaps you are feeling a transcendental moment right now, but you really can't do that in my parking lot. Please go home".
He looked at me, smiled, and did not say a word.
I insisted that he move to a better spot.
One hour later, I found him in the parking lot of Jack In The Box which was next to our store, still doing the hands in the air thing.
Fact is stranger than fiction.
Dave is sitting there during his lunch time. He works for us. He is reading the newspaper which he holds high enough to block his view of me sneaking up on him from behind the counter.
The front door of the store is open. It is a balmy, windy day.
I sneak up on Dave and light his newspaper on fire. He holds the paper and lets the fire ring get somewhat large before he releases it with not so much as an excited reaction, as if it really was not occurring.
Amazingly, the newspaper, riddling with flame magically transports itself out the front door at the same time that my girlfriend and a friend of her's walks in.
What I heard then caused me to ask twice" What did you say"?
The answer was, "there's a naked man in the parking lot"!
Of course, this necessitated investigation.
It was true. There WAS a naked man in the parking lot.
You may wonder what this particular scene looked like. Let me say that the whole episode of Dave's newspaper being transported out the door in a ring of fire, coupled with what I saw when I went out that door, was somewhat mystical.
There, was a tall slim man, with long black hair, standing naked to the wind with his arms held above his head and his hands clasped in a prayerful motion.
I must admit that it took thirty seconds to realize the actuality of what I was seeing.
So I came back into the store. Dave was still expressionless on the couch.
My girlfriend, and her friend, suggested that I should do something about this situation. I agreed.
I went out to where this "magic man" was standing, and said to him" Hi, perhaps you are feeling a transcendental moment right now, but you really can't do that in my parking lot. Please go home".
He looked at me, smiled, and did not say a word.
I insisted that he move to a better spot.
One hour later, I found him in the parking lot of Jack In The Box which was next to our store, still doing the hands in the air thing.
Fact is stranger than fiction.
Got love? Give love.
Fact really is stranger than fiction!
A similar story to GoodClue's...
Part One:
I ran a TravelLodge Motel in Farmington, NM back in the early 80's. Farmington is right on the edge of the Najaho Indian Reservation (Shiprock).
So, my mom and dad came for a few weeks to visit. They owned a baby blue Ford F150 with a shell camper on the back. My dad was a drinking man. So, they just get to my place and my dad decides to go a winger and disappeared for several days...we had no idea where he was.
Well, he finally came back and man he looked like hell. I mean, really bad. And as soon as he walked into my apartment, my mom cut loose on him so I go out into the motel lobby/office to get away from the fight and there sits 2 drunk Indian men that my dad evidently brought back with him. He felt sorry for all down and out people and really did give them the shirt off his back and the last dime he had.
Anyway, I could hear my dad trying to explain to my mom where he'd been but my mom was so PISSED he couldn't get a word in.
In the meantime, I'm freaked out customers are gonna hear my parents fighting and see two filthy drunken bums sitting in the lobby. I was behind the registration desk so I stand on my tiptoes so I could see the drunk Indian men's faces and tell them to get out NOW so one Indian gets up and leaves. The other one just sat there staring at me. I told him several times to get the hell out before I call the cops but he never said a word and just sat there! The more I told him to get out and he just sat there, the more angry I got.
About that time I look up from the desk, out the big front window and see the Indian that left opening my dad's truck door so I run out there yelling "Get the hell out of that truck and go get your friend! Are his legs broke or what!?!?"
He reached into the cab of the truck and says "yes"" and pulls a PAIR of prothstetic legs out and heads back toward the office.
A similar story to GoodClue's...
Part One:
I ran a TravelLodge Motel in Farmington, NM back in the early 80's. Farmington is right on the edge of the Najaho Indian Reservation (Shiprock).
So, my mom and dad came for a few weeks to visit. They owned a baby blue Ford F150 with a shell camper on the back. My dad was a drinking man. So, they just get to my place and my dad decides to go a winger and disappeared for several days...we had no idea where he was.
Well, he finally came back and man he looked like hell. I mean, really bad. And as soon as he walked into my apartment, my mom cut loose on him so I go out into the motel lobby/office to get away from the fight and there sits 2 drunk Indian men that my dad evidently brought back with him. He felt sorry for all down and out people and really did give them the shirt off his back and the last dime he had.
Anyway, I could hear my dad trying to explain to my mom where he'd been but my mom was so PISSED he couldn't get a word in.
In the meantime, I'm freaked out customers are gonna hear my parents fighting and see two filthy drunken bums sitting in the lobby. I was behind the registration desk so I stand on my tiptoes so I could see the drunk Indian men's faces and tell them to get out NOW so one Indian gets up and leaves. The other one just sat there staring at me. I told him several times to get the hell out before I call the cops but he never said a word and just sat there! The more I told him to get out and he just sat there, the more angry I got.
About that time I look up from the desk, out the big front window and see the Indian that left opening my dad's truck door so I run out there yelling "Get the hell out of that truck and go get your friend! Are his legs broke or what!?!?"
He reached into the cab of the truck and says "yes"" and pulls a PAIR of prothstetic legs out and heads back toward the office.
ezrablu
1991 Bluebird International
360 DT - 6 Speed
1991 Bluebird International
360 DT - 6 Speed
I am working on my 1958 Ford pickup truck. It has a six cylinder motor. Four speed on the floor with granny gear. Top speed 55 miles per hour. A good strong truck.
I have just changed the oil, oil filter, air filter, spark plugs, spark plug wires, points, capacitor, and rotor and cap.
I am feeling very happy about this rejuvenation of my engine. I put everything back together and anxiously await the moment when I can start my newly refreshed engine.
OH! I forgot to tell you that for some reason, (I can't remember) I had removed the distributor shaft.
I was smart enough to remember how the distributor shaft should go back into the engine block.
OK, Rudy, turn the key.
Imagine how distressed I was when the engine would not start. Immediately, I began to doubt my picture of where the distributor shaft should be placed.
So I figured that there can only be six different combinations of how the shaft should be placed back in the hole.
Now imagine how confounded I became when after two whole turnings of the distributor shaft failed to permit starting of the engine.
It was only after two revolutions that I realized I had been failing to put the rotor in the distributor.
What a funny discovery. Even in my youth I could be dumb. I put the rotor on and positioned the shaft to my original mark and then there was the hum of that beautiful engine.
These days I quickly accept my stupidity. If I worried about it too much, I would not only be stupid, but I would be crazy.
I have just changed the oil, oil filter, air filter, spark plugs, spark plug wires, points, capacitor, and rotor and cap.
I am feeling very happy about this rejuvenation of my engine. I put everything back together and anxiously await the moment when I can start my newly refreshed engine.
OH! I forgot to tell you that for some reason, (I can't remember) I had removed the distributor shaft.
I was smart enough to remember how the distributor shaft should go back into the engine block.
OK, Rudy, turn the key.
Imagine how distressed I was when the engine would not start. Immediately, I began to doubt my picture of where the distributor shaft should be placed.
So I figured that there can only be six different combinations of how the shaft should be placed back in the hole.
Now imagine how confounded I became when after two whole turnings of the distributor shaft failed to permit starting of the engine.
It was only after two revolutions that I realized I had been failing to put the rotor in the distributor.
What a funny discovery. Even in my youth I could be dumb. I put the rotor on and positioned the shaft to my original mark and then there was the hum of that beautiful engine.
These days I quickly accept my stupidity. If I worried about it too much, I would not only be stupid, but I would be crazy.
Got love? Give love.
Part 2
ok so, one drunk Indian goes in the office and puts the fake legs onto the other Indian sitting in the chair. I was so angry and upset about the situation I never noticed there were no feet on that guy
So when they finally leave, I go back into my apartment to try and calm my angry mom down and get a story out of my dad. I ask my dad "What happened to your truck topper and boot?". See, the inflatable "boot" between the cab and the topper was flat a pancake and the truck topper/camper was hanging on by one lousy screw.
My dad said he was driving out in the desert to find a place to pee and ended up driving right into some kind of ceremonial dance the squaw's were doing around a fire. He didn't realize it and stopped his truck to get out to see what was going on and watch. Well, the men started chasing him and he barely got back to his truck. My dad kept a pistol under the seat so he said he grabbed it and took off in the truck firing shots into the air and the whole time there were Indians hanging on the truck bed and bumper. He said they were inside the topper unscrewing the bolts that held it down and the inflatable boot got popped when one was trying to climb through the window to get him.
I'll never forget the look on his face when he said "They damn near stole my topper...one more bolt an they would have had it!".
All I could picture is my dad driving through the desert like a drunken idiot, shooting into the air with all those Indians hanging on the back of the truck!
Some time I'll tell the story of him coming back to our motel room in Las Vegas....he was wearing a baby blue leisure suit; he laid on the floor trying not to wake anybody up and pretend he was sleeping there all night and my mom asks him "How did you get tire tracks across the back of your jacket?"
ok so, one drunk Indian goes in the office and puts the fake legs onto the other Indian sitting in the chair. I was so angry and upset about the situation I never noticed there were no feet on that guy
So when they finally leave, I go back into my apartment to try and calm my angry mom down and get a story out of my dad. I ask my dad "What happened to your truck topper and boot?". See, the inflatable "boot" between the cab and the topper was flat a pancake and the truck topper/camper was hanging on by one lousy screw.
My dad said he was driving out in the desert to find a place to pee and ended up driving right into some kind of ceremonial dance the squaw's were doing around a fire. He didn't realize it and stopped his truck to get out to see what was going on and watch. Well, the men started chasing him and he barely got back to his truck. My dad kept a pistol under the seat so he said he grabbed it and took off in the truck firing shots into the air and the whole time there were Indians hanging on the truck bed and bumper. He said they were inside the topper unscrewing the bolts that held it down and the inflatable boot got popped when one was trying to climb through the window to get him.
I'll never forget the look on his face when he said "They damn near stole my topper...one more bolt an they would have had it!".
All I could picture is my dad driving through the desert like a drunken idiot, shooting into the air with all those Indians hanging on the back of the truck!
Some time I'll tell the story of him coming back to our motel room in Las Vegas....he was wearing a baby blue leisure suit; he laid on the floor trying not to wake anybody up and pretend he was sleeping there all night and my mom asks him "How did you get tire tracks across the back of your jacket?"
ezrablu
1991 Bluebird International
360 DT - 6 Speed
1991 Bluebird International
360 DT - 6 Speed
RUNNING AROUND ON YOUR SPOUSE
I am not sure if yaw have Brookshire grocery stores in your parts of the country but we have them in La well anyway my dad had lost his right leg in the mid 70's and wore a artifishel leg to walk there was a part that broke often in the knee joint so he had a extra to get him by til he could get the broken leg fixed, and kept it in the trunck of the car for when they traveled it was always there. Well anyway my mom had went shopping and they had a carryout boy probably 15 or 16 years old, they bring the gro out for you and of coarse when she poped the truck open there the leg was and she said the kids eyes just kept getting bigger and bigger my mom seeing this decided to having a little fun and of coarse the kid didn't know he was wearing one at the time so she egged it on, and told the kid she was tired of him running around the neighborhood and messing with the other woman on her street, so she started making him take his leg off and she put it in the trunk so he couldn't get out of the house, well the kid got tears in his eyes and told my mom she was one mean lady for doing that and she then told the kid well I give it back to him when I get home and restressed the point of being tired of his running around, My dad would never had runaround on her he worshipped the ground she walked on and the same with mom, she then told the truth he thought he had been punked by his friends that worked with him
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Dennis The Bus Dweller
- Seasoned Nomadicista
- Posts: 1883
- Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 9:33 am
- Location: Southold N.Y.
- Contact:
Today, I had the displeasure of removing and replacing two windows at a woman's house that has 13 cats living within.
FIRST THING, when I opened the front door to enter, was the highly ammoniated stench of cat pee. I almost fell backwards.
Being the professional worker that I am, I did not even falter from my usual gregarious smile.
The windows got installed, but then there was over an hour's work of interior trim work to be done.
Towards the end of the trim fabrication and installation, I was becoming weary of my present atmospheric environment.
Happily, the time to leave had arrived.
The woman inquired about the large number of ladybugs that had made their homes behind the original trim pieces of the old windows. I told her that it is quite common to see them in window jambs and casing trim.
She asked me if I knew if there was a way to get rid of them.
Looking around her house of stained carpet, cat hair filled heat registers, and fur ball decorations, I had no problems coming up with a reply as to how to rid the house of ladybugs.
I said to her "get yourself a bunch of spiders"!
The woman gave me a strange look. On the one hand, she knew it would work. On the other hand, she might have thought that I figured that spiders should have a home there as well as the cats.
FIRST THING, when I opened the front door to enter, was the highly ammoniated stench of cat pee. I almost fell backwards.
Being the professional worker that I am, I did not even falter from my usual gregarious smile.
The windows got installed, but then there was over an hour's work of interior trim work to be done.
Towards the end of the trim fabrication and installation, I was becoming weary of my present atmospheric environment.
Happily, the time to leave had arrived.
The woman inquired about the large number of ladybugs that had made their homes behind the original trim pieces of the old windows. I told her that it is quite common to see them in window jambs and casing trim.
She asked me if I knew if there was a way to get rid of them.
Looking around her house of stained carpet, cat hair filled heat registers, and fur ball decorations, I had no problems coming up with a reply as to how to rid the house of ladybugs.
I said to her "get yourself a bunch of spiders"!
The woman gave me a strange look. On the one hand, she knew it would work. On the other hand, she might have thought that I figured that spiders should have a home there as well as the cats.
Got love? Give love.
Can't remember if I told this story on Sharkey's site or not. So if I did, sorry to repeat it!
Back in about '78 the wife and I lived in SoCal, we lived in Northridge in the Valley. We both taught school, and looked forward to the weekends to get away from the city and go to the beach to get away from it al. Our favorite spot was just south of Pt Magu Naval Air Station.
There was a nice beach on hiway 1 that was mostly unihabited or sparsely inhabited. But one day we also discovered that it was also uninhibited too. I was sitting on the beach looking out to sea with a pair of binoculars watching the sailboats, when I looked south down the beach and caught the sight of a couple- (kinda' like the old fashioned young hippie types)-walking our way in the buff.
I told my wife we could have company soon, and that we should not stare to obviously at the nudists when they ambled by. She was visually challenged, almost legally blind without her glasses, so she asked to see the binocs so she could look down the beach. I turned back to look out to sea, and after a while I turned back to see what she was doing, and get my binocs back. The nudist couple were only about 50 feet away by now, and she was still looking south thru the binocs- and in a loud voice she said "I can't see them, where did they go?"
Apparently she never found them with the binocs and while she looked for them, they 'snuck' up on us. I could not answer her with them so close, so I just said to them "hi, how are you folks doing?" and hoped they would think her question was not about them but some one else. They stopped right there by us and began to chat about how nice the beach was etc, so she put down the binocs to see who I was talking to. You should have seen the look on her face when she looked straight into the faces (I think) of our two nudists.
She was mortified to think she had asked where they were so loudly when they were right there, and with her still staring down thier direction thru the binocs. But they never gave any indication that they were on to her question, and pleasantly walked off down the beach.
Sometimes life is strange!
Back in about '78 the wife and I lived in SoCal, we lived in Northridge in the Valley. We both taught school, and looked forward to the weekends to get away from the city and go to the beach to get away from it al. Our favorite spot was just south of Pt Magu Naval Air Station.
There was a nice beach on hiway 1 that was mostly unihabited or sparsely inhabited. But one day we also discovered that it was also uninhibited too. I was sitting on the beach looking out to sea with a pair of binoculars watching the sailboats, when I looked south down the beach and caught the sight of a couple- (kinda' like the old fashioned young hippie types)-walking our way in the buff.
I told my wife we could have company soon, and that we should not stare to obviously at the nudists when they ambled by. She was visually challenged, almost legally blind without her glasses, so she asked to see the binocs so she could look down the beach. I turned back to look out to sea, and after a while I turned back to see what she was doing, and get my binocs back. The nudist couple were only about 50 feet away by now, and she was still looking south thru the binocs- and in a loud voice she said "I can't see them, where did they go?"
Apparently she never found them with the binocs and while she looked for them, they 'snuck' up on us. I could not answer her with them so close, so I just said to them "hi, how are you folks doing?" and hoped they would think her question was not about them but some one else. They stopped right there by us and began to chat about how nice the beach was etc, so she put down the binocs to see who I was talking to. You should have seen the look on her face when she looked straight into the faces (I think) of our two nudists.
She was mortified to think she had asked where they were so loudly when they were right there, and with her still staring down thier direction thru the binocs. But they never gave any indication that they were on to her question, and pleasantly walked off down the beach.
Sometimes life is strange!
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