Creative Endeavors, The Home of BoxcarOkie.com

February 28, 2013

Once Upon A Time There Was A Father

Filed under: Blogging,Life — ldsrr91 @ 8:25 AM
Tags: , , , ,

An 80-year-old rancher from Montana goes to the Mayo clinic in Rochester for a check-up.

The doctor is amazed at what good shape the guy is in and asks, ‘How do you stay in such great physical condition?’

‘I’m from Montana and in my spare time I like to hunt and fish’ says the old guy, ‘and that’s why I’m in such good shape. I’m up well before daylight riding herd and mending fences and when I’m not doing that, I’m out hunting or fishing. In the evening, I have a beer, a shot of whiskey and all is well.’

‘Well’ says the doctor, ‘I’m sure that helps, but there’s got to be more to it. How old was your father when he died?’

‘Who said my Father’s dead?’

The doctor is amazed. ‘You mean you’re 80 years old and your father’s still alive? How old is he?’

‘He’s 100 years old,’ says the old cowboy. ‘In fact he worked and hunted with me this morning, and then we went to the topless bar for a while and had a little beer and that’s why he’s still alive. He’s a Montana rancher and he hunts and fishes too!’

‘Well,’ the doctor says, ‘that’s great, but I’m sure there’s more to it than that. How about your father’s father? How old was he when he died?’

‘Who said my Grandpa’s dead?’

Stunned, the doctor asks, ‘you mean you’re 80 years old and your grandfather’s still alive?’

‘He’s 118 years old,’ says the man.

The doctor is getting frustrated at this point, ‘So, I guess he went hunting with you this morning too?’

‘No, Grandpa couldn’t go this morning because he’s getting married today.’

At this point the doctor is close to losing it. ‘Getting Married??? Why would a 118 year-old guy want to get married?’

‘Who said he wanted to?’

OOO

February 9, 2013

Lover’s Day

20090204_045645_valentine2_pinupRecently I noted that someone who writes a daily “grammar blog” has come on board for a following/subscription to this blog.  This of course worries me, I am a grammar blog writer’s ultimate nightmare.  I used to have a university professor that followed me, drove her nuts.  She nailed me all the time on apostrophe’s, said I put them in the wrong place and was constantly pointing this out.  Last I heard, she had gave up and was working a rig in the Balkan Field in North Dakota as a tool pusher.

Let’s talk of Lover’s Day, that magical time of the year, that is quickly approaching.  

Soon the WordPress.com media will be full of nothing but happy, sappy, posts about this illegitimate holiday. Time is running out for a lot of guys, Valentine’s Day, that illegal estrogen enriched time of the year sponsored by all the chocolate manufactures and of course, jewelry shops nationwide is now clearly visible on the romantic horizon.  A banner day for Hallmark Cards I suppose … and the immediate downfall for the poor sucker who forgets.

Some of these holiday’s are suspect anyway.  Did you know that last Friday was “National Wear Red Day?” Well, it was, “If I am lying, I am dying” as my buddy Billy Raye Littler used to say.  This month, b’sides Valentine’s Day we also have President’s Day (the 18th) we ought to buy him and the family a one-way ticket to Borneo and give him a carton of Marlboro’s.

But I digress … sorry.

My marriage firmly locked down in the layered bedrock of the planet, established way back years ago, when the earth was still warm, does not require a yearly injection of false admiration and adoration, so I assume I am free.  I should be able to slide under the radar, much to the chagrin of some of you other suckers who will not.  All I have to do is remember to pick up the seat and I am okay for a month or two on the by-ways of matrimony.

Not a big fan of the holiday, as you can see.

My feelings about Valentine’s Day are mixed.  I remember as a small lad, we were required to give Valentine’s cards to all our young classmates in school.  The teacher would give us a list of each child in the class, and we were to dutifully fill out a little sentiment and then pass them around on the appointed day.  This gesture was to be seen as goodwill and friendship, but in reality, quite cruel to the kids who were an exception to the rule, and received no cards whatsoever.

I never cared for it.

Most of the time, the man is going to “get something for himself” and then pimp it off as a gift for her.  Box of chocolates, something racy and sweet, from Fredrick’s of Hollywood (for himself).  Now when you are secure in your relationship, you do not have to spring for these things.

One of the readily apparent benefits of a libido in retreat and being older, is the fact that at our age a trip to the Catfish Cabin, some shrimp, a short well timed visit to the Salad Bar and later, some bread pudding and you are set.

I would even venture that both would cost about the same in the end.

In my younger days, being the sleeze-ball that I am, I would have opted for this new thing on the market … The C-string.  Have you seen one?  Here is a photo sampling for your perusal and a live demonstration.  This would not be suitable for showing at work, so check the room first.

c_string_v2

As you can see, this clearly leaves little to the imagination and is a testament to the female form.

40786jc_20

Here is a working example of a C-string on some lovely, I would assume it is Mexican Television, it sure would not be aired here in the U.S.A. even Fox would not touch that (pardon the pun).

Clearly this is not a gift for the older audience but for the younger set.  Most of us who read this site, would be just as happy with a new toaster over.  I don’t know where the chocolate would fit in, but then again, it is the thought that counts.  Best get busy and do some shoppin boys, time is running short.

Please remember, “do not go overboard.”

OOO

Possibly Related:  Here is a lighter look at the subject of love, Timber Wear from a few years back.

January 18, 2013

Look At It Like Dis …..

Filed under: Blogging — ldsrr91 @ 1:00 AM
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Clay Bennett editorial cartoonClose but no cigar

A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He steps into the taxi and the cabbie says, “Perfect timing.  You’re just like Frank.”  Passenger: “Who?”  Cabbie: “Frank Feldman. He’s a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time.” Passenger: “There are always a few clouds over everybody.”  Cabbie: “Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy.

Passenger: “Sounds like he was something really special.” Cabbie: “There’s more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order, and which fork to eat them with.  He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out, but Frank Feldman, did everything right.”

Passenger: “Wow, some guy then.”  Cabbie: “He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid the traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good.

He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too.  He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.”

Passenger: “An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?”  Cabbie: “Oh, well, I never actually met Frank. But he died, and I married his —-’ widow.”

Yeahsus!  That is sooooooooooooooooo good.  

 Huh?  No good you say?  

Well, okay, try this …  The Preacher was a preaching, he was magnifying, testifying, he was glorifying!  And then he announced to the congregation, “Do you know anyone in your life that is perfect?” and one single hand went up in the back of the church.

The fired up preacher quickly seized upon the moment and inquired of the man, “You!  You know someone who was perfect,” is that right?  And the man slowly nodded his head up and down in accordance with the preacher’s intense stare. At that point, the Preacher then demanded of the meek little man … “Who was this person, this person who was perfect?” and the little man looked down, pointed at his wife, and said, “Her ex-husband!”

Big gun show at the fairgrounds this weekend I am going out to invest in some brass.  Just as soon as I finish some unexpected paper work.  My tax return.   Yesterday I received my tax return for 2011 which was sent back from the IRS.

It puzzles me. 

They are questioning how many dependents I claimed.  I guess it was because of my response to the question: “List all dependents?”  There seems to be some confusion. They question the section where I replied: “12 million illegal immigrants; 3 million crack heads; 42 million unemployed people on food stamps, 2 million people in over 243 prisons; Half of Mexico; and 535 persons in the U.S. House and Senate.”  Evidently, this was NOT an acceptable answer.  Next year I am again asking them to take me off their mailing list, and then there is the nagging question:

I KEEP ASKING MYSELF, WHO THE **** DID I MISS?

mexicans2

Please pay your taxes you have people depending on you.

Here is the Email of the week:  This is by a daughter of a murdered couple in Raytown , MO , who had a Bible and Bookstore on 63rd street .. She says: When I had to testify at the murder trial of my parents a week ago, I was asked to raise my right hand… The bailiff started out “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” 

I stood there and waited but she said nothing.

She said “Do you?”

I was so stunned I blurted out “What happened to so help me God’?” 

She came back with “Do you?”

I replied yes, but I was perplexed. 

Then the judge said  ”You can say that if you want to.” 

I stopped, raised my right hand, and finished with “So help me God!” 

I told my son and daughter that when it came time for them to testify, they should do the same.   I don’t know what can be done about it, but it’s time for us to step up and DO something. NBC this morning had a poll on this question.. They had the highest number of responses that they have ever had for one of their polls, and the percentage was the same as this: 86% to keep the words, 14% against… That is a pretty ‘commanding’ public response. I was asked to send this on if I agreed… Or delete if I didn’t. 

 Now it has been stated that 86% of Americans believe in God.

Therefore, I have a very hard time understanding why there is such a mess about having “In God We Trust” on our money and having God in the Pledge of Allegiance.

 The final question:  Why is America — Our nation — Catering to this 14%?  

You don’t like it here … Get out.

ATT00015

Have a great weekend.

OOO

What the teeming masses have been reading this week at Creative Endeavors:

Home page / Archives  
Bikinis (The reason men are pigs)  
Tweaking Your Reality  
Goin With The Flow  
Clear Blue Sky  
Eagle Bus Project Files  
Wood Ice Chest  
Pink Hat Ladies  
A Moment In Time  
You Don’t Smell Like Flowers (audio)  
Skinny Dipping With Grandpa

A special thanks to Boateral, Diane, Joey our west coast correspondent for contributing.  American Progress Online.

January 15, 2013

Inside The Cage Looking Out

Nice to wake up to a good cup of piping hot coffee, little sunshine in the window, and the much anticipated storm did not materialize.  Life is good.  It has been a long week, I am hoping that this one on tap is better than the last.  Putting a video here for you first off, you can click on it and Grandma will play you the blues … As you read the latest news.

This morning I am reading a post by a lady who has been Fresh Pressed five times, that in itself, amazes me.  But wait, it gets better.  Just below that in the comments section someone is asking her “how is it I get Fresh Pressed?” which is something akin to asking “How many grains of sand are there on the beaches of the world?” One poster was actually lamenting how difficult it was to post three times per week, I found that quite amusing.  Here is the clear cut winner … One poster was going “to learn ONE NEW WORD a year.”  Wow, knock yourself out there sister!  It has to be true Maw, I read it on the Internet.

A great deal of interesting material in the news.  This one here, I really liked it.  A pair of Michigan robbers entered a record shop nervously waving  revolvers.  The first one shouted, “Nobody move!”  When his partner moved, the startled first bandit shot him.  This guy doesn’t even deserve a seat at Stoooopid Criminal School.

Anyone seen this new tattoo show on CMT where they have competitions with each other on certain designs (snake, devil, flower) and they go to the closest morgue and put their handiwork on a cadaver.  Now I ask you, “how sick is that?” Your poor Uncle Ed who has been living under an overpass for the past five years dies when his alcohol diseased sick liver finally gets tired and stops.  You go down to the morgue to pick him up and they hand him back to you looking like one of your Grandmother’s best hand-knitted quilts.

This is almost as disgusting as the game I play with myself when I fly to Asia.  Leaving Seattle, Washington, you usually swing over a huge portion of the world that is covered with ice and snow (might all be gone now, I dunno?).  I will look out the window of the aircraft and then back into the cabin and my mind will start to race … “Which one of these people am I going to eat first?” in order to survive. gas7 Gasoline continues to do a downward spiral, and yesterday my bride asked me if it would ever go under $2 again.  I gave her the standard “when pigs fly” answer but that was not enough.  So I calmly put it in technical terms for her. Honey, it’s true, oil prices have reached an all time low this year. But before consumers do something drastic, like purchase a hybrid—or as I call them, a mutant—consider the fixed costs that go into producing your typical $104 barrel of oil.

Right up front, $5 goes to new development of new oil resources. $10 goes to new technology research. $15 a barrel goes to making those commercials where oil companies try to convince you they’re not raping the environment and $25 goes toward blackening the oil.  BP is your friend, Exxon is the company of choice, this fuel only contains ____ % of cane products grown in Brazil. Then my wife said to me …  If I may, just very quickly, right there stop you, I was under the impression that oil comes out black.

That’s what Hollywood would have you believe, dear.

No, oil actually comes out of the ground looking like this (holding up a fruit jar with a honey looking substance inside). A pretty rainbow! And it burns clean. Cruding it up ain’t cheap.  She then says “so that adds, I guess, $55 a barrel to the oil, what about the rest of the cost?”  (We are on a roll now, she bought it)  Well Honey, it fluctuates, depending on how chaotic the political situation is in places like North and South Dakota.

gas24

That’s why the Middle East loves our stagnant economy and all those empty roads that are now devoid of traffic, tourists, and commercial business. Without these modifiers, we often see our oil prices plummet. Gas will never go below the $2 benchmark set for it recently by my wife, I am sure of that.  Unless of course, we all buy a gas sucking SUV from Government Motors and Middle Eastern revenue streams dry up and the terrorist are having to work second jobs at Bennigans … or … the Middle Eastern equivalent … Jhad-Applebee’s.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I have to run now, our three year old decided to tune my guitar for me over the weekend, and I have to work on that. One last thing:  As the middle of the month rapidly approaches remember a couple of important dates.  #1  Martin Luther King Day is on the 21st.  Also, January is Stalker Awareness Month. So, leave a gift by your bedroom window for your special someone.

OOO

January 7, 2013

A Ten Year Olds’ Treasure

Filed under: Life — ldsrr91 @ 12:08 AM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

imgresThe sun beats down and it is hot, unbearably hot, I swing around and check the mirror.  The dust is rising from the roadbed and about half way back the side of the train it sort of just disappears into a brown cloud. The warning bell on the back wall of the cab of the locomotive goes off, and I assume it is the oldest locomotive in the consist, about three back, most likely overheating.

It is going to be a long, hot day on the Oklahoma prairie today, that is for sure.  Running thru the small farm town of Crescent, the sign on the bank reads 106* and the sweat runs down the back of my neck into the small of my back and all I can think of is, “hellava way to make a living, I should have went to school.”  There is no wind, no relief and the rail in front of me stretches out like a long snake to the horizon and a little beyond.  Dust and dirt so thick you could cut it with a knife, and heat that often made you want to lie down and die.

A great many days of my career (such as it was) were spent just like that.

Times such as this are now just a faded memory in my mind, they often still serve to remind me of how hard it was to make a living on some days.  I fondly think of walking into the house, the cool air hitting me like a sweet song at the front door.  Walking down the hallway and into the kitchen to fetch me a cool beer for the freezer, a soak in a tub full of tepid water and sweet release, after toweling off, a half-frozen beer and some quiet.  My reward for making it thru another long day.

This sounds like a plan to me, but it is to no avail.

The wife looks at me and says, “the boy has gotten some more money, he wants to go to the comic book store.”  So I say, “Listen, I am tired, it was a long hot trip and I don’t need any comic book store.”  She then says, “I have to fix dinner, I was counting on you to do this for me.”  Most of the time, it was Mom and the boy, occassionally I would do the duties and drive him around.

At the age of eight or ten, I don’t exactly remember when, the kid started collecting comic books.  I don’t mean he started reading them, he started collecting them.  We would go to one of many comic book stores and there he would work his magic.  He would go thru the stacks of comic books, gather up a handful, walk up to the owner, and at a young age, work the art of the deal.

Sometimes he did well and other times, not so good, but it was interesting watching this youngster doing his thing.

Having done his research beforehand, he would make his decisions.  He would make his purchase, and then we would drive home.  He would explain to me in great detail the positive aspects of ownership and what each publication had to offer, what made it unique, why it was that it caught his fancy. At home, he would not read them, they were far “too precious and valuable to do that Dad, that would spoil them!”  He would gingerly take the books and place them inside a plastic bag and store them away in a box.

This went on for several years, numerous boxes were filled and summarily filed away to the obscurity of a closet or a shelf in the garage.  Over the years, he continued to sporadically add to the collection.  But after high school, came college, and after college came romance and love, then first thing you know … A family.

Over the years we (his mother and I) sat on the old books and boxes like a mother hen on her brood.  We became the caretakers and administrators of the forgotten hobby of youth. One day I finally said, “Load all of ‘em up and take them down to HIS house, I am sick of storing them and moving it all.”  So we loaded it all up and took them to HIS house and HE became the caretaker of the project or hobby.  Which is only right, he was the creator of it all it to begin with.

Let us fast-forward to the present, the boy, the proverbial baby of the family, the last one outta the chute … will be forty years old on May 18th.  Time has a way of slipping by and the years rack up and give new meaning to us all.  Coincidentally, that is quite a long time on a comic book collection too.

After delivering the numerous boxes to him down in Houston … I never gave it much thought after that, until recently I had not even considered their existence at all.

Over the holidays they came up for the annual pilgrimage home and during the conversation he looked at his mother and said, “Hey Mom, y’know all those old comic books you saved for me in the boxes?” And his mother replied, “Oh yeah, I remember them, why?”

He smiled real big, and telegraphed the answer almost before he said it, “We put one on E-Bay in an auction and sold it this week.”

She said, “You sold them all on E-Bay?” and he replied, “Naw, just one.  We only sold the one comic book, guess what it brought?”

She said, “I dunno, whadya get for it?”

And he said “Five thousand dollars Mom.

Incredible, one book, I never dreamed of that amount of money for a comic book.  Some times life just slaps you upside the head just to get your attention.  When I came home from Viet Nam, I asked my mother “Where are all my comic books?” and she answered without so much as looking up by saying …. “They all went to the landfill a long time ago.”

Nuts.

I could have been a millionaire.

OOO

June 17, 2012

Current Conditions

Filed under: Blogging,humor,Life,Oklahoma,Recent — ldsrr91 @ 7:03 AM
Tags: , , ,

Oklahoma Dirt Road

“I try my best to understand her current condition, which is quite frankly, often beyond me … “

The wife is stomping around the house and she is not happy.  What is that old expression?  “If Mama aint happy … No one is happy?”  The dog, who has seen all of this before, knows it is a good time to go outside.  She walks to the back of the kitchen, whines and scratches at the door jamb, I let her out.

At least she can go outside, I have to stay right here.

Again my bride makes another quick pass thru the kitchen, she is on a mission, a self-induced tirade of sorts.  Clearly agitated and somewhat bent out of shape, I give her free reign at the refrigerator and allow her to pass.

Not always being the sharpest knife in the drawer I am able to figure out all by myself, that the weather is playing an important part of this scenario.  She keeps muttering something about “30% chance of thunderstorms, I had this to do, I wanted to do that, and now they are telling me a 30% chance of thunderstorms?”

Funny, how something as trivial as the weather, can lead to a life trigger on a somewhat non-de-scrip day in Oklahoma.

I try my best to understand her current condition, which is quite frankly, often beyond me, slowly I approach her (this is always the best route to take, a slow cautious, somewhat careful approach) a technique I learned during the PMS days.  Which if you are a man, stands for “Pack My Suitcase! 

I look at her and say gently …. “Hon, a 30% chance of rain, is also a 70% chance of sunshine.”

This works, she calms down a little, let’s it soak in and then says …. “Yeah, right.”

It is not often easy being the keeper of the community sanity in my neck of the woods, it is a tough job, but someone has to do it.  Attack the problem, with a take no prisoners attitude often works quite well too.  And then, there is always the old drop to the floor and play dead routine.  But that seldom works, she is wise to that one after some thirty-years of marriage.

I walk over to the cabinet, fetch me a empty cup and head for the coffee maker.  Much like the dog, I know it is best to get outside, fresh cup of Joe in my hand, I head for my shop.  Checking the sky, there isn’t a cloud in sight … It is going to be a good, good day.

OOO

Photo Credit:  Tau Zero  Good Stuff Check It Out.

November 22, 2011

Let JayLo Get Your Coffee

Filed under: humor,Life,Oklahoma — ldsrr91 @ 4:38 AM
Tags: , ,

Walking into the living-room, I reach down and grab the remote to turn on the television.  The news is on, the announcer sitting all prim and proper with a huge stack of important papers, that he occasionally shuffles, says ….  “Tonight dismal home sales across the country are leading to economic disaster, stagnant unemployment reaches a new high, Obama cuts pipeline deal 22,000 jobs disappear into thin air, global economic worries continue to haunt Europe, street protests and arrests in New York and political gridlock seems to be the order of the day …..  But first, our lead story … A new study just released by the government today indicates that Happy People live longer!”

Now honestly folks, don’t you kind of pine or wish for the good old days, when the kid walked into the room and said to you … “I demand to speak with the Tooth Fairy!”

Glamour magazine has picked JayLo as the woman of the year in 2011.  She showed up in some glitzy-star sprinkled thingy on the music awards and it was eye candy for every single guy in America (and I suppose a lot of married dudes too).

Now while we are at it guys, if you happen to be reading this?  If your wife looks at you and says, “Do you think JayLo is sexy?” the proper reply is “No.”  Do not, under any circumstance say something totally stoopid like, “Yeah!  I mean Wow!  What guy wouldn’t think she was sexy?”

This will reserve you a prime spot in the backyard canine condominium (dog house).

Later on, as the wife got up to go to the kitchen, I inquired of her, “Hon, are you going to the kitchen?” and she said, “Yes.”  I then offered her my coffee cup and asked, “While you are in there, if you don’t mind, can you get me another cup of coffee?” and she put her hands on her hip and looked at me (with THAT look) and said … “Let JayLo get YOUR coffee!”

So again, the correct answer is …. “No.”

Ms. Lopez had more than a shimmering, nearly nude body suit in her arsenal to upstage her estranged husband, Marc Anthony, at the American Music Awards — she also made sure she performed before he did and with a much bigger production. The superstar “Idol” judge kind of rubbed his face in it, a little like a Britney Spears kind of naner-naner-naner.  She also appeared in true Britney fashion, appearing not to be wearing underwear, but that is another post of a different nature I suppose.

While we are on the subject of men and women?  Here is an email that we found in the box this week we would like to share with you.  A woman’s prayer and then a man’s prayer.

First the ladies prayer.

Before I lay me down to sleep … I pray for a man who’s not a creep,
One who’s handsome, smart and strong … One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks … One who’ll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he’s rich and self-employed … And when I spend, won’t be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand … Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen … A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other … And relish visits with my mother.

And then there is the male version of the prayer

I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with big hooters who owns a bar on a golf course,  and loves to send me fishing and drinking … This doesn’t rhyme and I don’t really care … Hand me the remote and then go get me a beer.

We sincerely hope that some of this has helped you thru your day, and if you are not locked down rock steady in your relationship with the man of your dreams, we can offer you a solution …  there is always an expert waiting in the wings … to help steer you down the path of life in your journey of commitment, here is the link.  How to Talk To Your Man 

Now as for me?

Well I am going back to the DVR for some much needed research I think I have that topless commercial of JayLo in a Fiat (not her, the car).  I also need to figure out why some guy named Bradley Cooper is voted the sexiest man alive … Guess I am relegated to the wanna-be list again, that sucks.

Every girl wants to be Lois Lane and all the guys want to be her Superman.  Me?  I just want to be in the top five.  Think about it.  Who actually wants to be the Sexiest Man Alive anyway … It surely would waste the me that I am already am.

OOO

For more of Ms. Lopez, click on the photo above.  Kudo’s to Art our correspondent in Reno, Nevada for the email prayer.

November 16, 2011

It’s The Little Things

Filed under: Bus Life,buses,humor,Life,Oklahoma — ldsrr91 @ 7:00 AM
Tags: , , ,

The bus sat in the shop this past weekend, I had wanted to take it out and run it awhile, but that did not happen.  Not long ago, one of our heaters had stopped working, so we (we being me) took it apart and did some maint. on it and got it back in running order.  The on/off switch on the thermostat is kind of tricky, that is to say, it is hard to ascertain whether it is on or off on just about any given day.  At that point, I turned it off (or at least thought I had turned it off) and went about my business.  This was about sixty days ago, the last time we used it.

It now appears that it was in the “on position” and therefore, was coming on and running for who knows how long each night, when we were in bed.

Over the past few few weeks I had been experiencing problems starting the bus, it seemed like it had some kind of battery drain or reluctance to start on just about any occasion.  It also had been driving me nuts, or as my wife would say, “short trip” on several days trying to pinpoint the cause of the problem.

I pulled the dash and checked the ground on the starter switch, I pulled the drivers panel and checked the aux. start switch (helper).  Located the starter relay, crawled under over and all around the thing.  I jumped the starter, I hot wired in new switches, I tried every possible senario, even to the extent of pulling the batteries, a two hour job in itself.

I crawled on and over this thing like a monkey on a jungle gym without much success at all to put it bluntly.

Then one day, quite by accident, I am walking by the drivers side of the coach and as I pass the heater box I hear a click, the thermostat comes on and then whirr, the heater fires to life!  I turned and looked at it and then said, “What the —-?” and by pure luck (not reasoned deduction) the problem had been located.

This might be where the old adage, “even a blind hog can find an acorn every now and then” would apply.

I went inside the bus and checked some gauges on the inverter, and low and behold, the batteries were down to 10 volts.  So this weekend, it has sat with the battery charger.

A small thing, a little detail, but it shut me down and put me in the foot patrol.  It also chipped away at my fondness for my pig iron pony and kind of depressed me during my waking hours.

Here is another, this one cost me over a hundred bucks.

Wanting to charge up the batteries last week (before I had discovered the cause) I ran it out about 100 miles or so and then back to the shop.  During this trip, I also wanted to pull down the aux. fuel tank (65 gallons) to a smaller number of gallons (in order to reduce weight) and lower the gallons inside the tank.  Misreading the bus fuel gauge at 3/4 of a tank, I started the pump (the main tank it turns out was already full) and I begin transferring fuel.

Shortly thereafter, we started smelling diesel.  I thought two things at this point in time.  #1 was “Uh Oh?” and #2 was what my granddaughter is fond of saying …. “Uh Oh’s are never any good Grandpa.”

The smell of diesel now strongly permeates the interior of the coach.  This was because we were actually pumping it out the overflow and right onto the ground!  Yeah I know … At almost $4 per gallon.  (You will never hear me brag about how smart I are … No sir.).

Later on, over some cold beer and ribs, I try and explain to the little woman the nature of the beast and why it is taking so long to fix all of these “little things,” and she just nods her head, smiles in what I believed was total agreement, and then said to me in an understanding fashion …. “I hate my kitchen.”  She has heard it all before and frankly, there isn’t much here that she would consider news.

So after supper, I turn it around and drive it back home, later I slink out to the shop to once again, try and figure this out and I attack the problem.  They say Edison did over 10,000 experiments before he got the light bulb to work, and using that for a model, I am sure that I will find the root cause of my issues also (sadly it may take 9,000 attempts).  Late into the night, from the corner of the shop you can hear a small little voice saying over and over … You can do this, you can do this, you can do this …. dummy.

Later on, much later on, when most sane and reasonable people are tucked away for the night, I discover the problem and I fix it.  Once again, just a little thing, but it caused a lot of problems and expense.  That is often the way it goes …. first your money and then your clothes.

Earlier in this same week, I am wiring up our trailer and nothing, absolutely nothing, is working.  No matter how it is that I try to do this thing … this dawg isn’t going to hunt.  Over and over, day after day … one day … two … three days later I find it.  Once again, after applying the Edison principle to the problem (You can do this, you can do this, you can do this …. dummy.)  Stripping the wire covering on the trailer wiring harness, I find that the manufacturer of the trailer had apparently ran out of “blue wire” so in the middle of a run, he switches it over to “white.”

Which is as most of us already know, most always 90% of the time, a “ground” wire.

Dutifully after cursing his first born male child and implying that his parents were never married to begin with … I change out the wires (switch them around) and walla boys & girls … we now have trailer brakes!

Perhaps I am just doomed and do not know it?

One time in Utah, I missed the turn, when my bride said to me, “you missed the turn” I replied, “it’s no big deal.”  I then drove into a box canyon, thirty-seven miles in … and yes … thirty-seven miles out.

A little thing, but then again, it is always the little things in life that are going to get you.

OOO

October 7, 2011

Dinner Date

Filed under: Uncategorized — ldsrr91 @ 4:31 AM
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Friday, the weekend.  I suppose a great many of you will be going out tonight, payday, tight-shoe-money night, and eating out in your favorite bistro or eatery.  My-my how we like to eat here in our home-state.  Oklahoma is now ranked third in the nation in obesity, thank gawd for Mississippi and Alabama!  We have so many heavy people walking around here, that the mere sight of someone who is average or thin, is almost rare.  Most of them eat at the local buffet (which stands for Big Ugly Fat Folks Eating Together – Don’t send me any letters) and we have no shortage of hamburger joints or Chicken Fried Steak and Curly Fries.

A new study has just been released that has some good news for all of us who are constantly worrying about our weight.  This new study indicates that for martial happiness, it is not all that critical for a woman to be thin, she just needs to be thinner than her mate.  So you don’t have to diet anymore girls, you can hang that old sweat suit on the stationary bike and just serve up Harvey a second course.

University of Tennessee researchers monitored 185 married couples (newlyweds) over a period of four years tracking their marital satisfaction via questionnaires.  Now this is where I have a problem with this, as I don’t believe questionnaires to be all that scientific in nature.

Too easy to lie about something on a questionnaire.

Men are not satisfied by how much a woman (mate) weighs and they did not pay a lot of attention to absolute terms, but did closely track to whether their wives were thinner than they were.  The study seems to point out one fact, “men do not really care how much their wives weigh, as long as they perceive them to be thinner than they are.”

Strange how men and women look at things so much differently isn’t it?  The phrase “Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus” is often used as a prime example.  Here is a video sample of what I am talking about here Dinner Date  (be forewarned this link …  Dinner Date contains adult subject matter).

Let’s face facts. 

We are not the young buff, robust treasures we used to be (I am certainly not even close any more) and what we eat, determines our shape.  And we all know:  “In America.  It is either, illegal, immoral or fattening.”  I am sticking with Paula Deen and enjoying life.  “It don’t have no sugar in it y’all, little gunpowder and some corn syrup.”  Which is good news for me, the last time I stepped up on our talking scale in the bathroom it said:  “Come back when you are alone.” 

Pass me another rib from that basket Hon, and no, those pants don’t make you look fat at all.

Bon Appetite.

OOO

Kudo’s to Jimmy Wo for the link.
 
 

June 10, 2011

Lock N Load

A woman walks into the kitchen, her husband is sitting at the kitchen table, with a shotgun in his hands, and he is crying. 

She asks him “What is going on?”

The mournful husband replies, “Twenty five years ago, on our wedding day, your father walked in with this shotgun and said to me … If you don’t love that girl, then take this shotgun go over there to that other room and blow her brains out, she is hopelessly in love with you.”

So why are you crying the wife asks.

He looks her straight in the eye and replies, “I would be getting outta prison today.”

[San Jose Mercury News]:  
An unidentified man, using a shotgun like a club to break a former girl friend’s windshield, accidentally shot himself to death when the gun discharged, blowing a hole in his gut.

[Kalamazoo Gazette]:
  James Burns, 34, (a mechanic) of Alamo, MI, was killed in March as he was trying to repair what police describe as a “farm-type truck.” Burns got a friend to drive the truck on a highway while Burns hung underneath so that he could ascertain the source of a troubling noise. Burns’ clothes caught on something, however, and the other man found Burns “wrapped in the drive shaft.”

[Hickory Daily Record]:
  Ken Charles Barger, 47, accidentally shot himself to death in December in Newton, NC. Awakening to the sound of a ringing telephone beside his bed, he reached for the phone but grabbed instead a Smith & Wesson 38 Special, which discharged when he drew it to his ear.

[UPI, Toronto]:
  Police said a lawyer demonstrating the safety of windows in a downtown Toronto skyscraper crashed through a pane with his shoulder and plunged 24 floors to his death. A police spokesman said Garry Hoy, 39, fell into the courtyard of the Toronto Dominion Bank Tower early Friday evening as he was explaining the strength of the buildings windows to visiting law students.

Hoy previously has conducted demonstrations of window strength according to police reports. Peter Lawson, managing partner of the firm Holden Day Wilson, told the Toronto Sun newspaper that Hoy was “one of the best and brightest” members of the 200-man association.

[The News of the Weird]:
  Michael Anderson Godwin made News of the Weird posthumously. He had spent several years awaiting South Carolina’s electric chair on a murder conviction before having his sentence reduced to life in prison. While sitting on a metal toilet in his cell attempting to fix his small TV set, he bit into a wire and was electrocuted.

[The Indianapolis Star]:
  A cigarette lighter may have triggered a fatal explosion in Dunkirk, IN. A Jay County man, using a cigarette lighter to check the barrel of a muzzle-loader, was killed Monday night when the weapon discharged in his face, sheriff’s investigators said.. Gregory David Pryor, 19, died in his parents’ rural Dunkirk home at about 11:30 PM. Investigators said Pryor was cleaning a 54-caliber muzzle-loader that had not been firing properly. He was using the lighter to look into the barrel when the gunpowder ignited..

[Reuters, Mississauga, Ontario]:
  A man cleaning a bird feeder on the balcony of his condominium apartment in this Toronto suburb slipped and fell 23 stories to his death. “Stefan Macko, 55, was standing on a wheelchair when the accident occurred,” said Inspector Darcy Honer of the Peel Regional Police. “It appears that the chair moved, and he went over the balcony,” Honer said.

She’s got a gun … and she wants to be president.

[ Arkansas Democrat Gazette]:
  The best is always last.

Two local men were injured when their pickup truck left the road and struck a tree near Cotton Patch on State Highway 38 early Monday.  Woodruff County deputy Dovey Snyder reported the accident shortly after midnight Monday. Thurston Poole, 33, of Des Arc, and Billy Ray Wallis, 38, of Little Rock, were returning to Des Arc after a frog-catching trip.

On an overcast Sunday night, Poole’s pickup truck headlights malfunctioned.

The two men concluded that the headlight fuse on the older-model truck had burned out. As a replacement fuse was not available, Wallis noticed that the ..22 caliber bullets from his pistol fit perfectly into the fuse box next to the steering-wheel column. Upon inserting the bullet the headlights again began to operate properly, and the two men proceeded on eastbound toward the White River Bridge.

After traveling approximately 20 miles, and just before crossing the river, the bullet apparently overheated, discharged and struck Poole in the testicles. The vehicle swerved sharply right, exited the pavement, and struck a tree. Poole suffered only minor cuts and abrasions from the accident but will require extensive surgery to repair the damage to his testicles, which will never operate as intended.

Wallis sustained a broken clavicle and was treated and released. “Thank God we weren’t on that bridge when Thurston shot his balls off, or we might be dead,” stated Wallis. “I’ve been a trooper for 10 years in this part of the world, but this is a first for me. I can’t believe that those two would admit how this accident happened,” said Snyder.

Upon being notified of the wreck, Lavinia (Poole’s wife) asked how many frogs the boys had caught and did anyone get them from the truck?

Have a great weekend …

OOO

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