Old Pickup Trucks, Friends and Pots and Pans....

Old Pickup Trucks, Friends and Pots and Pans....

(this is a post from my myspace blog from Feb of 2008)

...The other day, I think it was last Wednesday or so, I went into the kitchen to make a pumpkin pie. I haven't had one in two or so years (yes, I do a LOT of cooking) and rolled my pie crust out. In the process, there are lots of little pieces left. Most people will throw these in the trash. Not at my house you better not. The wife requires me to cut them into cookie sized pieces, smear margarine on them heavily, sprinkle sugar and cinnamon on them and bake them. She loves them, there's little waste and everyone's happy.

On this particular day, I used one of our OLD cookie sheets. This cookie sheet is one that barely fits in the oven, it is so long. It is also slightly bent, dinged and has a few rusty spots in it, as well as some unidentified (You almost had a typo there to correct Deb) burned places on the surface. It matters not to me, because I aways cover it in aluminum foil and use it anyway. The wife told me when I was done, to throw it away. I of course, was in a hurry, so when I was done, I set it on the cabinet.

Now, FFW to Friday morning. I am driving home and blew the engine on the wife's Oldsmobubble. I had wanted to trade it last spring, but nothing doing, she had to keep it because she "liked it". I had it towed home that afternoon and then we talked about what we should do. She of course, made a huge mistake by wanting me to trade in Old Blue. Old Blue, in case you folks didn't know, is a 1994 Chevy 1/2 ton pickup with a 191,000 miles on it, a bent hood and slipping transmission. Old Blue and I have been through hell and back. We've been all over the 4 state area, slid into ditches, gotten stuck in mud and ice and I've even slept in it a few times. I of course refused because, well, it's an old friend. She didn't understand thinking like that. Saturday we went to town and made a deal for a 2005 Chevy SUV for her and brought it home. She seems happy (except for the car payment) and we now have two forms of transportation again.

FFW again (my life is in FFW) to today. I woke at 2, couldn't sleep and decided to do some baking. I rolled out my pie crust, took the leftover crust and opened the cabinet. There it was. All washed and shiny (well, except for the bent part and the rust areas and the burned on whatever from whenever). I smiled, thinking that that is a woman's version of Old Blue. I'm sure most women have these old pots and pans that you could't give to Good Will and you wouldn't part with them for all the money in China. Now you understand.....

....That is all.....

Reverse Psychology

Reverse Psychology

....so, it was about the time the youngest boy started driving. I always said I wouldn't buy the boy his first car, but then I got to thinking about the fact that I could have a little more control on what he did and where he went if the car was in my name...so....we went out and looked without the boy. We looked at several cars and finally set our eye on this white 89 Chrysler. It was a small "K" car with a 4 banger and kind of boxy looking. It was a good solid car though and we had pretty much decided on that one. I wanted to look a little more, so off we went on our quest for transportation.

I went to a mom and pop car dealer, you know the kind, the ones where you don't want to kick the tires too hard for fear that the tires would fall off? Anyway, we looked and wanted to try this one car. I'm telling you now that I had never seen such a smoke belching, rattling piece of crap in my life. I almost left but then an idea came to my mind. I had been concerned that my son wouldn't like the car we had settled on, so here's what I did.

I made the wife get in old smokey and we headed to the house. A blue haze of burning oil followed us the 3 miles and I'm sure that everyone stared as we drove down the road. It was absolutely awful! I pulled in the yard and honked the horn. The boy came out and to say his jaw hit the ground was an understatement.

"What do you think," I said excitedly? My son looked at me and just stared at this piece of crap. He was smart enough not to say "Dad, that's a piece of shit," so he just kind of hemed and hawed about it, not really commiting anything. "It's real solid," I said! Again, no comment. "Here's the keys son," I said as I got in the back seat.

My son got behind the drivers wheel and off in a blue haze of oil as we went. We drove through our small town, me smiling and him, scheming silently with him wanting to obviously say "please dad, don't make me drive this". He of course knew better and we took our tour and then took it back to the car lot.

I thanked the man and told him that we would think about it. I swear a mental sigh of relief from my boy when we pulled away, hoping beyong hope that we would find him something else.

Anyway, I had him drive into town again and pull into this car lot with the car I intended to buy. I got the keys and went and started it. It purred like a kitten and there was no smoke. "What do you think son," I asked him. He of course smiled, thinking of how much nicer this car was than the one we almost "bought" him. Of course, we let him take a test drive of our "new found" treasure. He didn't complain about it at all!

After the drive, we went back to the lot, talked to the man and made our deal. We paid the man, got on the road and he felt good about our purchase and I smiled knowing that I had made my point without having to argue about it.

Life is good sometimes.......

....that is all

Dead Dogs, Wally World and Indian Casinos...

I know this is a sad thing to write about and someone will be upset somewhere, but I was driving home, about a mile off the interstate (no, we don't have freeways in Kansas) there was a U-haul truck with a car behind it parked on the side of the road. This area is right beside where the Indians are raping the land, but we'll get to that in a bit. Beside the car was a dog, obviously dead. It was a rotwiler or a doberman or some type of devil dog. I don't like either of these breeds, but I suppose the owner loved the pet. Anyway, I got to wondering about what happened. I figure it is one of 3 scenarios.

1. They were traveling with the dog and it expired.

2. They hit the dog as they drove.

3. They tied the dog to the back bumper like they did in National Lampoon's Vacation and forgot about it.

I am thinking it was likely number 2, however it could very well be one or the other. Now, if it weren't number 2, then as Roy D. Mercer would say, "It looks like they got a situation here." So, now that they have figured out they have real problems, again they have choices. I can imagine the conversation.

Him: "What are we going to do now?"
Her: "Well we can't just leave him here?"
Him: Well what would you suggest, I don't have a shovel."
Her: "I don't care. If we leave him here I'll never forgive you."
Him: "I guess we could tie him to the luggage rack!"
Her: "We can't do that to him!"
Him: "Well, it's not like it's going to rain!"

This of course brings us back to "Vacation" and tying the dead aunt to the car and the rain comes thundering down. I smile thinking about Aunt Edna being there. Bad, bad, bad pirate! I hope they make it peacefully to Wally World, or wherever the heck the travelers are heading.



Now to the Indians. They are building a HUGE casino just mile or so off the interstate. I hate gambling so I am naturally against it. Mostly I'm against them having their own "nation" within a nation, but we won't go there. Anyway, they are taking prime land that could be used for farming or whatever and building this monstrous building on it. It is like 20 stories or something.



Now aren't the Native Americans the ones that always have screamed about the white man raping our environment? If it is, then why is it ok for them to do it? Do they have some God given right because they were here first? I think not. Besides, they say it will be good for the economy. Now, that brings me to my 3rd point tonight. Who the hell are "they"?

I'll tell you who "they" might be. I am still kind of up in the air about this one. However, you can be sure that "they" are the ones who are responsible for you getting it up the rump and I'm sure "they" are sitting on a pile of money somewhere. After work, they probably congregate at the local "They Bar" and laugh at all of us common people. It always seems to go back to the money doesn't it? I'll give you a good example of the times it was good that "they" lost out.



They: Oh my Zug, dodo bird dying out!
Zug: What we do?
They: Must save dodo bird!
Zug: Me think dodo bird tasty!
They: You primate! That why dodo dying out. Must stop eating dodo!
Zug: I die without dodo!
They: Better Zug than dodo!
Zug: ~WHACK!

End of story. But not quite. Suppose "they" had been right and the dodo had survived. Would we be better off? I mean, who wants to eat a dodo anyway? And who would be responsible for cleaning the dodo droppings up. Not me man! I'm sure "they" would have some dodo manure cleaning machinery that would make it easier, plus the fact that it would make your pockets lighter in the process. Hey! I know! We could give the job to the illegal immigrants! That of course, is another blog.

…that is all…..