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yeah, can imagine what traffic is like now?
Not a place to be, roads get cut off and the fires can and do turn back on the area's where people are in their cars. Just the smoke and ashes flying ruins visibility.
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Tex, Why do I have this mental image of you driving home from work with a can of Lone Star between your legs whistling El Paso by the Kingston Trio to yourself?
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quote:Originally posted by Up: Tex, Why do I have this mental image of you driving home from work with a can of Lone Star between your legs whistling El Paso by the Kingston Trio to yourself?
apparently, you've fallen victim to every stereotype available...to set the record straight about Tex-sons...
1) Lone Star is great--but get bottles ... that way you get the lil puzzles inside the bottle cap
2) lol, I can afford a vehicle with a drink-holder...the days when we drove back into town with 6-packs gaily festooned from the mirrors are long gone
3) Kingston Trio a very talented outfit, but Marty Robbins' is "the" version
4) I whistle lustily, robustly...to the world! It's a gift I inherited from me ol' pap...be a crime to keep it to myself...
*seriously--when I was a little guy? used to stay up as late as possible, so on the off-chance he got off early enough, I could hear Dad's whistling coming down the road, from afar... he was a world-class whistler. Thanks for reminding ...*
-------------------- Nashoba Holba Chepulechi Adventures in microcapitalism...
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quote:Originally posted by Dustoff 1: maybe Tex is little shy of fires...They damned near burned up Texas recently...
true...well, lottsa North Texas, into Oklahoma...which most would consider "flat," not realizing the topography. Doesn't take much to give fire a boost, once the countryside is dry.
-------------------- Nashoba Holba Chepulechi Adventures in microcapitalism...
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Sorry for the delay. Some issues developed.
Previous about to be posted, then a phone call:
Just finished cleaning up, washing dishes and all that. Old man is about to snore from eating and drinking so much, daughter is back over on HER side of our hill.
Not long back, I made mention of tenant problems, the boy who fell back to doing methamphetamine. Long story, weird story, lots of stupidity on the part of both him and his wife. However, his wife is the more stupid of the two.
She ups and leaves him. I understand. The boy is a meth freak, weird friends, dealing drugs, no place to live, two strike felon.
We "pay" them to simply get out. Tell them to only pay a half month's rent if out by end of June. Worth it to get rid of tenants than have to go to court for months. Recall some talk of my serving them with the legal notice and he wigs out into a psychotic meth freak episode.
He begs, twice, for a few more days. Ok, just get out by the fourth of July. He calls, says he is out. I drive by once a day, all looks ok, house appears vacant. We are too busy to tackle this rental for a bit, busy with another, although my husband has been working over there, on and off. Place is a mess, trash everywhere.
I drive by this morning, there is an old Lincoln Continental in the garage. I stop, key my way in, go out back and here comes a pit bull. Fast retreat back into the house.
Back home, I grab my husband, grab a Beretta, tell him to come with me, we have to shoot a dog. Any other breed, I would find a home. Not a pit bull. Only good home for a pit bull is dead.
My husband makes me leave the Beretta at home, "We will not need that."
Back over the to the rental, the damn speed freak is walking out. As usual, I do the talking because my husband knows I will not allow him to talk.
One of those "What the F-word are you doing here?" moments. The sob is secretly living in our house, hiding from us when we drop by. Billyray does not like this much. More words are exchanged. The meth freak up and takes a swing at my husband.
Bad, very bad mistake.
My husband nails him in the head three or four times before the boy could blink. Down he goes. I am in a total panic, typical woman, screaming in fright, then jump in. Nobody messes with my family, nobody.
The meth head is down on the porch and I take to kicking him in his stomach, kicking him in his groan, and quickly my husband pulls me off, "Taha, he is out cold. Stop."
Billyray calls 911 on his cell, I am so damn mad, I kicked the boy one more time in his groan. This time I am taken by the arm and roughly marched back to our truck, "You sit in the truck and do not get out."
Shortening all this, the police arrive and arrest the boy. We are, of course, questioned. Neighbors are out watching. Not long, an officer comes back up, asks me about kicking the boy after he was down. I think I talked my way out of this, "Everything happened so fast, I know I kicked him but I was defending my husband. No, I do not know how many times I kicked him. I was in fear for our lives."
End of previous about to posted.
**
Delay is earlier, about when I decided to share this with you boys, who require constant ongoing entertainment, neighbor over there calls, says the boy is back in the house. He has made bail somehow.
We go back over after my husband lectures me to stay in the truck. He is still a bit mad at me. I know when to obey him.
The boy is gone when we arrive. A neighbor tells us the boy only returned to pick up his car.
Most odd, and I will confess to calling his wife and telling her I plan to sue for the mess they made, most odd, a majority of the trash is gone and house somewhat cleaned up.
This happened during our afternoon pool party.
If we were in Oklahoma, twenty years back, thirty years back, I would have shot both the pit bull and the boy, and no charges would ever be sought.
"He needed killin'" as we Okies say.
What really makes me mad, but not mad, is how my husband remains so calm during this, even the fisticuffs, like this is an everyday event. He knocks the boy out cold, shrugs his shoulders and calmly dials 911. I am hysterical during this.
I suppose this is a single masculine trait which is, hmm, maybe a little better than our female gender, but only that trait.
A Choctaw father and his son. I vaguely remember those two. Not sure of the year.
Based on their clothing, they are preparing to go to church, meaning this was a Sunday. Overalls with a white shirt is very common clothing during my childhood.
The front of our farmhouse is behind them.
Choctaw lived with us during summer and fall. They helped us work our fields in exchange for room and board, then a share of the fall harvest to take home to their families.
None of us, family or not, had any money; strictly a barter economic system.
Choctaw would bring in pallet like beds and sleep in our barn, which actually proved to be comfortable living quarters. During meals they would sit with us at our table as a part of our family. Sometimes I would be allowed to sleep in our barn with the Choctaw.
There is where I learned so much from Choctaw. Each evening, after supper, the Choctaw would retire to the barn, outside till bedtime, then engage in traditional story telling.
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The meth boy either knows he is living the wrong life, cleans house on his last time out, or stubborn girlfriend knows better, cleans up after him...good luck with your meth head,,,if I was your billy ray the kid would be in the hospital or dead...billy ray is a good man.
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worked for a Millionaire who cut WW2 Submarines in half put in mid extentions and then put um back together. Probably can mention now, I can't get a hold of him anymore he may of passed on[ mid 70's.....He tought me Hawaiian waters...Fished with him for about 2 yrs.
If he is gone, Hawaii has lost another of the great ones...
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Have a great radio station in the area...only problem, in between songs they are talking in parelay vous francaisly...le ribbitt...
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Ah, you should have been around ten or so years back when a whacko tenant threatened to kill the both of us with a shotgun.
Short man complex. Boy is an ex-marine, which he bragged about constantly, but only stands about five foot seven. He is shorter than me.
This short man complex is a recognized syndrome. Sometimes a short man will develop obsessive insecurities about being short. His displayed behavior is very aggressive, very hostile, very dominating. He attempts to effect control over all things through intimidation; behavior is that of a bantam rooster.
This incident, we are having to follow the court proceedings path to evict the man and his wife. Takes months. We go over to serve some papers and the man greets us in the driveway with a shotgun, says he will kill us if we do not get off "his property."
Once again my husband remains calm and cool and I am about to piddle my pants while extremely angry at the same time.
My husband distracts and begins talking about the marines, how tough are soldiers, Vietnam, while very slowly approaching him. He talks with the nutcase for a bit, up close, gets the man to bragging about his marine training.
Suddenly, my husband grabs the business end of the shotgun, forces it skyward, then jack hammers the man's face with his free hand. He wrestles the shotgun away then swings the butt end around clipping him across his chin knocking him down. So much for a tough marine.
During our almost three decades of rentals, we have only had maybe four or five bad tenants. Worst is the recent meth freak, the shotgun marine and an entertaining fat tent lady I wrote about before.
The fat lady is the woman we evicted through court proceedings, had a marshall lock her out, then she and her children, during night, set up a huge tent in the front yard and moved in, "We vacated the premises."
My husband allowed me to handle the tent lady all by myself!
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me ain'ts so tall, but me shoulders is broad which makes me arms stick out a bit.....Popeye me 'been called $%^&*&^%#^&* Most think I'm Hawaiian anyway when Tan..I do pack some some buoyancy....
in more serious vain..
Thinking back, some of the best men I've known have been under 5'-11"
Some of the absolutly most pathetic under 5'-8"
God made us the way we are.... So many fight what is only natural about themselves..Use what you have, then you will be true to yourself and others will pick up on that.
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"stubborn girlfriend knows better, cleans up after him."
This is a bizarre yet interesting story.
These tenants are referred to us by a previous tenant who is a teacher, a really nice person.
This couple applies, indicate they are planning to marry. The woman is a teacher at a school I know. The husband works at a warehouse. First time renting, no referrals but her credit checks out ok. He has no credit reference.
She has no rental referrals. She is thirty-two and this is the first time she is moving out of her parent's home. Thirty-two and never cut the apron strings before!
As landlords, under law, we are only allowed to ask for rental referrals and a credit check. If we ask for more, we can be sued. We pay $1200 per year for each rental for liability insurance to protect ourselves. Tenants suing landlords is very common. This is why we work hard at avoiding court proceedings, why we sometimes pay tenants to move out; cheaper than court.
All looks ok, the wife and the meth freak do very good for the first eighteen months. They keep the house perfect, pay their rent, not a single problem.
They invite us to their wedding up in Big Bear where the big fires are burning right now. Few days later I am over there just checking on things, making sure they are back from their very short honeymoon. I ask if she enjoyed her wedding day,
"I am glad it is over. It was very tiring."
Uh oh, something ain't right.
Within a few weeks, the husband is fired from his job. He lands several more jobs in succession but is fired from each. He then refuses to look for another job and spends his time at home.
Not long the neighbors are calling us, complaining and telling us of the police being out because the man is disturbing the peace, out in the street ranting and raving, screaming at his wife, from the street while she is in the house!
Curious, I unlawfully do a background check on him. He has been in and out of jail since a teenager. Currently a two strike felon with a prison record, out on parole. I check with a friend working within our school district, a friend who was a fellow teacher years back.
She informs me he was expelled from our district, which is serious and not often done, he is kicked out of our school system for drug related problems and violence.
Eventually the police are over there couple times a week because of his really weird behavior. I think this is when he started doing meth again.
His wife becomes pregnant. Neighbors call us and tell us his pacing up and down the driveway yelling at his wife to have an abortion. She suffers a miscarriage, which is sad but probably God looking out for an unborn about to be born to a bad life.
Things become worse, weird meth freaks in and out of the house, he is dealing drugs and I think is selling stolen car rims and other hot items.
I could write a novel on the strangeness of the people coming and going, so strange we often quit work over there and left be so weirded out.
Our tactic is to encourage neighbors to call the police and complain, which they do, even call the fire department when he builds a big bonfire in the backyard.
Nothing works until very recently his wife simply ups and leaves him on a single Saturday. This brings my story to current time.
We did a lot to help them, even hired the boy to do work for us on their rental and a rental down the street, in exchange for lower rent. He would start a job ok, then get stoned and never finish.
What is so strange is the woman being a well educated teacher with a Masters, marrying a known felon out on parole. She teaches special education and is a counselor.
She once said to me, "I married him because I know he will never leave me." Ironic she left him.
"stubborn girlfriend knows better, cleans up after him."
That is precisely what happened. She and some friends went over there and cleaned up his mess, even hauled away stuff in a truck. She also bailed him out of jail. Turns out, after leaving him, she allows him to store his junk in her parent's garage. Yeah, she left him alright.
With my being a "heartless b!tch" according to a woman at an auction in Vegas, I did manage to extract a half month's rent, although the wife offered to pay two month's rent; June and this month, July. I explained to her I gave my word if the husband would be out by the end of June, I would only ask a half month's rent. They did not keep their word, but I kept my word.
Fierce honesty is a family trait we value greatly.
Well, almost honest, yeah, honest. That Lincoln Continental, a sixties something with suicide doors, a low rider with very expensive stolen rims on it, I had designs to effect a lien on it as being abandoned on our property, acquire title, then sell it for a couple of grand.
Suppose when it comes to money, my honesty tends to take a backseat in a Lincoln Continental.
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Fierce honesty? Ok, me wife says me waddles when me walks to to fast.....Don't know for sure tho, me eyeballs is usually a peering forword....
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"stubborn girlfriend knows better, cleans up after him."
I had a feeling..one of my sisters is that stubborn girlfriend who can just never quite get rid of the meth head deadbeat once and for all. It's quite maddening when it's someone in your family. She'll work two-three jobs to keep a roof over their head and pay childcare, -he's home all day but can't be trusted to take care of his own kids- and just when you belive her that she's finally kicked him out for good, she finds out she's got a third one of his on the way. Now he's back. The cycle repeats. Sad.
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Whale!! Why do you have my wife laughing and grining! LOL
She cannot lie worth a hoot...She always smiles a bit when she even attempts too...
Do you have any idea how nut's the conversation is in this house right now...When the wife and I stop laughing , will try convey..AH' Phoooey forget it..LOL
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Ha! Ha! I am looking at this picture, wishing I could be young again so I could effect better measures against my butt becoming so big.
My bangs, looks like Grandma used pinking shears to cut my bangs! Maybe she used sheep shears!
Worst bangs I have seen in years!
Pretty dress though. This is around 1965 or 1966 years. My dress is definitely from the Fifties, probably ten years back from when my picture is taken. No doubt, a hand-me-down used over and over through out the decades.
Surprising, though, she managed to bring my wild, corkscrewy tough hair under control. Probably worked in a lot of lard for control!
There was a time I would lay my hair on an ironing board then steam iron my hair to make my hair straight. Never worked for long.
You boys have no idea of what we women go through to look good for you.
"I had a feeling..one of my sisters is that stubborn girlfriend...."
I should bash women in fairness.
Yes, Leo, we women are known for picking losers. This is very common and tends to explain, in part, our century long record of sixty-six percent of marriages ending in divorce.
Your family is far from alone in this. We have some of this in our extended family.
My perspective is we women take our "Mother Hen" complex way too far. We believe we can take a man, nuture him, mold him, make him into something he will never be. This probably is related to our strong maternal instinct. We women want to mother the world into what we want the world to be.
For men, you are controlled by your ego. For women, we are controlled by our emotions.
This is why I take testosterone injections. Works very well to balance out my feminine side. However, this mustache is driving me crazy.
Looks I am finally leading to a point men and women are no different, yet vastly different. We, men and women, are motivated and controlled by different "things" but an end result is the same, for both sexes.
Personally, I view all of us, men and women, as nothing more than smarter than usual monkeys.
Women are better at monkey business stock trading, though.
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