Beverly Hillbillies, Part Deux

[m3a1]

I've been following these "adventures" of yours for a few years now, and it leaves me with questions:

Have you ever fully finished a project vehicle to completion

Or do they get sold before that

Or do they just pile up on your property

It's the journey...not the destination. To me, there is nothing quite as frustrating and disappointing as a project that is completed because, where's the fun in that? Would you rather I write about how I went outside and looked approvingly at my completed project? Nah. BORING. And around here, being bored is like the kiss of death.

My 151 was completed to the degree I felt was completed. I remember how disappointed I was. I even wrote about my frustration and you guys probably thought I was speaking tongue in cheek. I was thoroughly frustrated...until another gremlin reared its ugly little head...and then I felt better because, once again, I had something to do. Then I fixed it and traded the M151 and all the other M151 stuff and now I have a Gama Goat which, to me, is really the be-all and end-all of former military vehicles. That M561 checks every box for me.

Now, the half track is one of those long term projects that I want done the WAY I want it done. Until circumstances are such where I can achieve that, it will remain as-is.

And there is such a thing as 'Pride of Ownership' and I know many of our members are well aware of that. They might not assign it that name, but they understand it. There is also the 'Thrill of the Chase' which is neatly exemplified by getting this most recent engine freed up. This is a satisfying way to have skin in the game without all the additional expense of chasing perfection. What would I learn by that?

So, what should I do? March to the beat of someone else's drummer? Nah. I don't think so.

I just love the nuts and the bolts and all the old tech. Doesn't matter if it "gets done." I could probably have myself a pretty good little youtube channel but I'm unwilling to become a slave to the beat of youtube's drums. All this stuff is a private pleasure. It's very satisfying, doesn't cost a lot and makes me grin from ear to ear.

Cheers,
TJ

[m3a1]

At Home Depot, I bumped into the guy I traded with for the cap top and jeep chassis. I paused long enough to tell him I got the engine freed up. I still have a transmission and torque converter that he wants and according to him, he may have a few more things I want. He's savvy enough not to have put his best goodies up for trade so on the next round, he will find I may be a bit more finicky. The jeep chassis, while worthy and fun and presenting an opportunity to learn a few things and perfect a few techniques, has consumed more time that I wanted to allow for it.

He had made mention of an old Toyota pickup truck he had. It was parked nearby (which probably means it's at least in the same county) and something that needed to be moved back to his property. Apparently it is a truck worthy of a little effort, but not presently running....and 2 wheel drive so not really the kind of thing people are looking for (and certainly not the kind of thing I'm looking for).

But, having the wherewithal and the time (and wanting to build a little good will for the next round of trading) I suggested that he let me move the truck for him. If all the wheels roll, moving stuff on the tow dolly is really an easy way to move vehicles around and doesn't involve a great deal of effort when done with winches. I don't loan the tow dolly out, because it's just one of those really useful tools which, when loaned, always seems to come back damaged. So, we'll see if he's smart enough to take me up on the offer.

He also mentioned that the starter for this old jeep is still over at the place where he got it (and apparently) waiting to be picked up so, I asked if he could arrange for me to go get it. I wouldn't lose any sleep over having a spare jeep starter on the shelf.

Yesterday I picked up a cheap gasket set for the jeep engine so as to be able to be close it up for long term storage. The head has been cleaned and was found to be dead flat when we checked it with The Wizard's machinist's straight edge so that's now on this list as a 'good' part worthy of saving. As for the block....well, boo hoo.... it is what it is. I will spend just a little bit of time cleaning up the valve cover's and the manifold's mating surfaces in preparation for buttoning it all up; the effort meant to be nothing more than an Ounce Of Prevention Drill.

Cheers,
TJ

[m3a1]

Cannons are kewl. Imagination shifts into overdrive.

[m3a1]

Things have been INSANE around here. Halloween came and went without much fanfare and, with a lot of evidence that Halloween (at least on MY block) was going to be something of a non-starter, I didn't put out the usual over-the-top Halloween display. It's been a long, difficult year and the way things continue to come my way (the latest remnants of the WWII jeep I traded for is a fine example of an unexpected intrusion) I have very little time to do all that needs to be done. With the party date growing ever closer, I am all about cutting corners wherever corners can be cut.

BUT (I like big BUTs and I cannot lie)

BUT the upcoming Christmas bacchanal has a way of demanding that I take myself away from endless and wasted hours watching YouTube and pounding out drivel for the G838 whilst watching and reading about everyone else have fun with their stuff. Couple that with The Billmeister's sudden departure for a week in order to go paddling around the Caribbean in a cruise ship filled with rum-soaked revelers, and a smidgen of (dare I say it?) food poisoning and maybe even a little touch of Covid 19, 20, or whatever number we're on at this point... Well, nothing says Get Y'seff in Gear like having the #1 Assistant take a powder with a drop dead date for a party right around the corner.

Just before Billiboi left, he and I put up the big party tent. This process is usually a big, hairy deal requiring that a small number friends and family be cleverly convinced once again that putting up the big tent will be 'fun'. Alas, I am weary and I am running out of fresh lies to tell people about how 'fun' erecting a tent is. So, I decided that it might just be far easier if Bill and I would have a go at it, alone and save all the time I would have to spend in the confessional....

if I were so inclined....

This monster gets erected over the driveway which is (this year) unusually chock-a-block full of my never-ending projects. The WWII jeep came and went. The Fairbanks Platform Scale got thrown together and now, with its mobility and utility restored, I cannot imagine what the heck I'm gonna do with it...et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

The real fly in the ointment has been ol' Nickel, my 1969 Ford Model 2000 tractor which has been receiving year-long (and highly intermittent) care in having its fuel system, cooling system and charging system restored and having every other little nut, bolt and washer removed and replaced. I am presently in the final throes of it, finding out which critical parts I forgot to order. There it sits, unfinished, and right in the middle of the driveway. I haven't any regrets or embarrassment about it. This summer's weather wasn't exactly 'worker-friendly'. In fact, it was doggoned brutal.

So, we erected the tent in a most bass-ackwards fashion; assembled a portion of the frame and then walked it over the tractor and into position and from there, we added sections in situ until the whole thing was together. Then we would locate appropriate places for several mondo augers which are military surplus aircraft tie-downs. With these screwed into the planet, I have the means of firmly anchoring the tent to Mother Earth.

Nothing is quite as ungainly, yet so willing to take flight as an unanchored party tent.

Ask me how I know.

What Bill and I continue to forget is that Doc and I got a NEW tent several years ago and we cannot seem to remember that simple fact (which should tell you how our memory is slowly failing us). Or, perhaps we had been traumatized so severely by the old tent that we can't get past it. Anyhoo, this new rig has a skin that is far lighter than the old one, making it joyful AND triumphant. Memories of putting up the old one always intrude into our thoughts about how much hard work this really was or wasn't, depending upon one's point of view. The old tent was a fat lady. She weighed a LOT and unfortunately, from my wife's perspective, putting up a party tent is no more problematic than reminding her hubby that it must be done SOON and then leaving the matter for others to achieve. Happily, the process of assembling the new tent is no longer comparable to, say, putting up The Great Pyramid of Giza, chiefly because of the new, lightweight material.

But, in order to assure Doc that our labors are truly worthy of her appreciation, this time we enlisted her aid in putting up the roof 'canvas'..

In normal times (when the driveway was one large, unrestricted space) we would assemble the ridge and rafters, tilt it up and install legs on one side, skin the roof and secure it to the frame, and then lift the other side up and put the rest of the legs on and Bob's yer uncle... Easy peasy. But, as you now know.....the tractor was in the midst of things. We wound up organizing the roof skin on one side in such a way that it could be drawn up and over the assembled frame by hand ....and for once, Doc briefly got to experience what it was like to be a roustabout instead of the being the cigar-chomping Boss Canvas Man who just stands there and issues orders.

With the roof skin up and sort of where it was supposed to be, everybody ran around like lunatics, fastening the roof to the frame and the frame to the tie-downs before the next big breeze came up. The real difficulty in that process was, everyone grabbed a fistful of ball bungees, went to their own corner and began fastening the nearest section of the tent roof down. Well, let me tell ya, friend...

it don't work that way!

The roof skin fits the frame like a glove and it must be put on just so...because if one end is all tacked down, you'll have to pay the Devil to get the opposing side pulled down into place. The correct process requires cooperation...which is something that is always in short supply around this place. When I pointed out from atop the step ladder.. (where I was grimly struggling to get enough canvas pulled my way so as to be able to secure the peak...without falling to my death) ..that everyone needed to stop what they were doing and stop pronto, well, everyone got their hackles up. With our group's team spirit having quickly gone up in a puff of smoke, and a roof that was too tight here, and too short there...there was much gnashing of teeth, swearing, saber rattling and making overtures for a good old-fashioned dust up, the whole thing devolved into a bloody mess....as is with all things we do around here as a group. As they say....

Too many chefs and not enough indians spoils the broth....

or something like that....

So much for being imbued with the Christmas Spirit!

But, after all the oaths were uttered and after all the dust settled, the tent is once again UP. It was a rushed job and it went contrary to the normal order of things. Things, such as power-washing the driveway BEFORE the tent goes up. This neatly exemplifies how the whole year has gone. Stalled jobs, interrupted jobs, odd jobs, bass-ackward jobs, unexpected jobs, rushed jobs. But, happily, no botched jobs! As always, all this shirt gets done, sooner or later. Having things accomplished well in advance is a wasted effort when having things accomplished on time will do very nicely and is one helluva lot less nerve wracking.

Now, with Sir Billiam out on the water and with the tent up, I finally take a breath and turn my full attention to Nickel, cause Nickel has gotta be moved.

I rounded up the various bins of tractor parts and began hanging the remaining new and refurbished bits onto Nickel and I did it without rushing; working my way carefully through each process in order to put the wraps on each system in my best one-and-done manner. There are a few things I still don't understand about this tractor simply because it wasn't in great shape when I got it and remember, it was the ultimate Village Bicycle (everyone had had a ride). So much had been fiddled with that I had to figure certain things out based on experience and an ounce of common sense (and this was usually stuff that didn't appear in any manual or on any YouTube channel).

Eventually I would also come to discover that I had grabbed a few salvage yard parts that weren't quite appropriate for this particular tractor. Right manufacturer, wrong model. Working those bugs out takes time and is complicated by having to put things back together that came apart almost a year ago. It isn't always as easy as 1-2-3, brother!

A good example of this would be the throttle control rod, which is little more than a rod bent at a right angle at the top to form a throttle control arm and below that, it goes almost straight down to hook up to the governor linkage through a clever little set of Thingamabobs and Hoosiewhatsits at the end. Sounds simple, right? Well, the throttle I got from the salvage yard was from a larger tractor of the same period, using the same sorts of Thingamabobs and Hoosiewhatsits. HOWEVER.... I would come to find it was longer and I fully admit, Your's Truly had never set the two throttles down side by side. My bad. So, when I put the replacement piece in, I found that it was too long and thus, too tall, and thus-THUS, the throttle control arm interfered with the steering wheel.

Grrr!

In what I think was a genius move, my solution was to apply heat, put another 90° bend in it which left me with a throttle control rod that was the appropriate length and a throttle control arm that was delta-shaped, rather than straight which I still think is a very nice touch. Yeah, she's custom!

Truly Custom Tractor Achievement Badge - AWARDED!

With all this fussing, eventually I came to the part where everything (that is, everything necessary to run it) appeared to be done. Mixed up some lead additive in a can of fuel and poured it into my fully refurbished, perfectly clean, VIRGIN gas tank. Whoot-Whoot! Added a battery and with a shot from the Ether Bunny, I fired it up. It ran like crap but it WAS running. Sadly, it was running so lean that it sounded like a tin bucket filled with nuts and bolts tumbling down a staircase. Apparently, my carb had managed to find and swallow one of the tiny pieces of the crappy replacement cork bowl gasket that came in the rebuild kit.

Crud! (except I didn't say Crud)

I just glared at it. But, the immediate goal was to get ol' Nickel out of the driveway and parked elsewhere so I managed the lean condition by pulling some choke until it ran smoothly. I hopped aboard and the drive around back was as uneventful as anyone could possibly have hoped. Just like I like it.

Clear The Decks Achievement Badge - AWARDED!

Cheers,
TJ

[m3a1]

It's hard to clear the decks (and keep them clear) when Guys like Tankjeepman are offering up Free Stuff. HEAVENS TO BETSY!

Yeah, it was quite a day yesterday, what with all the highballing all over The Great State Of. We left at 6AM and got back at 2AM.....and never left Texas. Not even close to leaving Texas. It's a BIG state. That made for a pretty long day....a day which began the day before which consisted of the usual collecting of all the associated and sundry bits of kit necessary for achieving successful Free Stuff recovery and, should the need arise, self recovery. Sooooo there was much airing up of trailer tires, grabbing Home Depot 'Husky tool bags' filled with smaller bags of ratchet straps, as well as scraps of plywood to help protect the aluminum deck, magnetic trailer lights, zip ties, portable engine hoist, ad nauseam.

Having certain types of kit kept in Husky tool bags is not nearly as organized as it sounds because I have a great variety of kit, most of which is stored in Husky tool bags and, yes, they all look exactly the same. Preparation for any task requires 15-20 minutes of un-zipping and re-zipping tool bags to determine which is which and what is what. Chaotic organization....

It's what I do.

We were an hour into our journey to the Ft. Worth area when I realized we were pulling the trailer with Doc's car, and not my well-equipped Longfellow and as a result, I didn't have my four-way lug wrench; a tool that is critical for tire changes. It is also so routinely along for the ride on most trips I didn't even give it a thought. In order to rectify the situation, we stopped at Walmart for a lug wrench and a bag of frozen peas.

Frozen peas, you ask? Ah yes. Doc broke her leg. Didn't I mention that? Yeah! A week after my telling her to stay the hell off of step ladders for fear of her getting busted up from a fall (because Doctors who are busted up aren't much help to anyone else) she was standing on a table (a TABLE!) and hanging Christmas ornaments in her office, when....

gravity.

Well, I guess I need to spell everything out in great detail when I'm warning someone about weighing risk vs. reward. But nobody listens to us old guys, right? Right! After all....

We're just a bunch of old fuddy-duddies.

How does this relate to the Free Stuff situation? Well, she was due to attend an orientation in a hospital in the Ft. Worth area (broken or not) and Ft. Worth just happened to be well on the way to my getting Free Stuff. So, I helped her into the back seat where she stretched out, bad leg up and after some time, began needing some really basic management for a swollen limb.

Frozen peas. $2.28.

What a beautiful Autumn day for a drive! Some leaves had begun to change, the weather was clear and we drove and drove and drove. Along the way, we investigated some interesting vehicles (which is always part of the fun). Stopped in Lampasas for brunch at Whataburger where I wowed my travel team by composing Haiku and writing it out in Kangi with skinny fries dipped in spicy ketchup and put it all down for posterity on the back of a serving tray liner. That might just be the first time in human history that has happened in that way.....

and you just can't get that kind of entertainment anymore.

That's Gotta Be A FIRST achievement badge - AWARDED!

We FINALLY got to Doc's new hospital (where she will be instituting a new program) and as soon as she hit the pavement, we were off to some place well north of Dallas. With Sir Billiam navigating, I deftly maneuvered the Doctor car and trailer in, between and around other, apparently unconscious, motorists. Oh my goodness. Imagine how terrifying it must be to suddenly awaken to the sound of a car horn and find yourself behind the wheel of a speeding automobile.

Bill navigated us right up the middle between the two giant metroplexes and we managed to get to Tankjeepman's place all in one piece. After introductions all around, I backed up the trailer, unloaded the hoist and we plucked three M151 engines out of my benefactor's barn. We got them into the trailer, shuffled them around by hand returned the hoist to the trailer and strapped everything down. Helpful hint: when confronted by having to transport multiple odd-shaped items, band them together in a configuration that makes them more stable for the ride they're about to take.

After loading, I politely asked Tankjeepman if he would be willing to show me some of his projects. He has a lot of 'em! I thanked him profusely, not only for his generosity but also for his hospitality. That done, we took our leave and we reversed course in order to head back to the Ft. Worth areal in order to collect the Doc. The problem was we drove straight into rush hour and anyone from that area knew to take the same route we were on in an effort to avoid a hundred thousand other drivers closer in to Dallas and Ft. Worth. It was nuts...and that's putting it lightly. Still, our luck was running strong! Every time I needed to get into another lane, a gap magically opened up. Amazing. But, Bill's navigation device had us taking an unexpected and short-notice avoidance route, which was meant to get us around a stoppage and, annoyingly, without enough warning from the mapper thingy, At a critical junction I ended up going the wrong way.

Oops!

Bad luck? Nope. By happy chance, we escaped EVERYTHING by getting off the freeway and onto a surface street that was not only nearly abandoned by other drivers, but also took us straight to our destination only several miles away. What are the odds of doing THAT?! The trouble was, this street was meant to provide access to a large campus of warehouses and truck terminals. Because of all the trucks, it was also a mass of pot holes and one of them absolutely beat the tar out of one of the trailer tires. As bad as it sounded when it happened, that tire appeared to shrug it off. We were feeling good. We were feeling REALLY lucky. We picked up my broken Doc and headed out for a bit of dinner and a long, LONG drive home with my free stuff resting comfortably back in the trailer.

Just outside of Austin, a roaring noise....roaring, like an airliner was overhead. That sound morphed into vibration. Flat tire! My luck had run out and I was on a section of freeway that had no shoulder; NO WHERE to pull over.

*sigh*

By the time I got us off the road, the tire was gone but just enough sidewall was left to protect the wheel. So my luck WAS holding after all, eh?

The trailer was heavily loaded. The Doctor Car's hitch was low. There would be no getting the trailer's landing leg down. The usual method of jacking up this trailer to change a tire is - (1) drop the two rear stabilizer legs, (2) jack up the tongue and with the landing legs extended, raising the tongue lifts both tires right off the ground. So, without a landing leg to use for that purpose, we unloaded the engine hoist and lifted the tongue up until we could get everything done, using my new four-way that I had wisely bought along the way.

Doc thought my stopping for the new four-way was sheer genius (my forgetting to load it notwithstanding). Genius did not bring that about. EXPERIENCE did. Kinda like knowing to stay the hell off ladders and such when alone and unsupervised. But of course I didn't say that out loud.

Know When To Keep It To Yourself achievement badge - AWARDED!

Even with a broken leg, Doc tried to get in there and help. She really did...because she's really a good egg. It's just that she just stinks at being up high.. So, Bill and I kept her out of the work and away from doing things that might harm her even further. Everybody was very much at the end of their productivity for this 20-hour day and yet, Doc was still in there swingin'.

The tire that had given out was the one that got hammered by that pothole. Ah well. They were old tires anyway. Tomorrow I'll invest in a couple of new tires and all will be well.

Cheers,
TJ

[rickf]

20 hours is about a normal day for the doc isn't it? Hope she is feeling better but having had my fair share of broken legs, and smashed legs, and one totally mangled and smashed leg. I can feel for her. It is not a fun ride.

[m3a1]

Gotta give credit where credit is due. She stayed in the game all day....but she had about a 6 hour rest period at the new hospital.

[m3a1]

Wanna know how much Christmas stuff we have? You don't wanna know how much Christmas stuff we have! We have it...ALL of it...chiefly because I really hate having to buy new stuff every year which would mean paying for the stuff more than once.

CHEAPSKATE! Yup. I sure am. In every way imaginable.

I think we brought in right around twenty 27gal Home Depot totes filled with stuff and that doesn't begin to go into other means of gathering, sorting and storing stuff, such as cardboard boxes, cardboard drums with metal ends (perfect for garland) and heavy duty plastic lawn bags that are big enough to hold a body, but inevitably, contain yesteryear's faux Christmas trees. There is so much STUFF that I haven't a place to put all of it up at one time. There is so much of it, we began our day today taking emptied containers (and some containers that had things I decided would not be employed this year) and hauling it all back to storage....just so we could have enough room to get into the OTHER, other stuff.

And then there is the business of things that are electrical. Most of it has been kept for so long that certain strings of lights are beginning to give up the ghost of Christmas Past somewhere between their last use and their latest proposed use. Batteries are never the problem. I learned long ago to never store stuff with the batteries still in 'em. Inevitable, electrical degradation?

Or there's a gremlin on the loose around here.

Yeah. THAT.

Even putting up the string of 'icicle' lights around the porch roof today went all pear-shaped. I was using BRAND NEW Home Depot lights. First string - no problemo. Second string - I got 'em put halfway up and then, very mysteriously, a section went out. I thought that calling a halt to all progress and going over to Home Depot for a switcheroo would be a waste of time so, I got out the little repair kit and began to swap out the tiny little LED bulbs, one at a time. After my fingers began to cramp up (little stuff and I don't play as well as I used to as my arthritis progresses) I said, SCREW THIS, and packed up the offending string and headed over to HD. After all, I paid for a serviceable string of lights and got swindled.

The little gal behind the service counter granted me an even swap but only if I would go get a replacement from the shelves and, with that done, I raced home to get this job done and off The Big List Of Dumb Things I Gotta Do. Employing a large amount of care, I plugged in the new kit FIRST, to ensure ALL the bulbs were working from the gittyup...and nearly burned my retinas out. Cool White! DAMMIT! I needed Warm White! I threw it all back in the box and noted that there was only one difference between the Cool White box and the other Warm White box. One said Cool and the other said Warm. Beyond that, they were precisely alike. What kind of maniacal thought process compels a manufacturer to do such a thing? I'm glad you asked. I'll tell ya.

China. The People's Liberation Army. China-China-CHINA. That's who. Yeah. THOSE dummyheads.

But, since I didn't have time for the PLA and because I was now fully aware of their nefarious scheme to break the spirit of The West by use of misleading packaging, I raced back to HD, threw myself on the mercy of the same little counter gal (who just rolled her eyes and made me feel smaller than she was) and swapped my box of lights once again... and I came away with WARM white lights. Hurrah.

Now I have the porch light string off my Big List. And have I mentioned how ladders and arthritis don't do well together?

Ready for more holiday hijinks? SURE you are!....because nothing helps one give heartfelt thanks at Thanksgiving like reading about the trials and tribulations of others and knowing that, for the moment, you've dodged those bullets. So here we go.

Doc ordered a brace of 6' nutcracker dudes from Sam's Wholesale Club some time ago. That fact that these were being made available for purchase at a regular retail outlet tells me that someone over-ordered a production run of 6' nutcracker dudes for big-time retail displays (such as would be found in a mall). Add a zero or two at the wrong end of a line of numbers and.... So, for a limited time, we little people get a crack at going BIG for the holiday with a high quality decoration that will surely degrade into some awful piece of garbage as the years go by.

But for the moment, these are well proportioned statuary and they come in caucasian or coffee-with-cream finishes (just in case that might actually matter to someone). Somehow we ended up with healthy looking, swarthy soldiers who obviously spent their service to The Crown someplace that was sunny. Okay. That's fine. Opened box number one and found Soldier Number One looking all squared away in his plastic bag and casket of perfectly shaped foam. Opened box number two and...disaster. Pieces of Soldier Number Two were all over in the bag, yet the outer foam and box were unharmed. Some joker had banged him up at the factory and then boxed him up anyway. Bastages!

I'd like to meet that person somewhere where (arthritis or not) he and I could have a nice, private conversation....if you take my meaning. I'd show him what a nut cracker REALLY looks like.

And so, with the party date coming ever closer, Doc called the manufacturer's agent at the direction of Sam's Wholesale Club who wanted nothing to do with warranty work. She reported the issue and yes, another would be coming forthwith and, yes, they wanted to take the damaged one back. Naturally, forthwith meant today, which is/was the day before Thanksgiving and more precisely, today at 3PM. So, the Billmeister and I repacked Soldier Number Two and took him out to the sidewalk leading up to the porch, clearly marked the box in bold letters with a large, chisel-tipped Sharpie as - "WARRANTY RETURN."

Doc announced that we were to stop what we were doing and come with her to lunch because without her ringing the dinner bell, so to speak,....I would probably work straight through. I've been told I'm a bit of an old grumpypuss when my blood sugar is low. So we bailed out of interminable party prep, shoveled the food in and returned to the casa well before 3pm....and discovered a NEW big box of soldier had been delivered to the front door and my WARRANTY RETURN was....
still, still, still on the front sidewalk.

Somehow I managed to get the only delivery person on the planet who was ahead of schedule. But I suppose he's ahead of schedule only because he's not picking up the ding-danged RETURNS!

DANG IT, NOW what the hell do we do?!

So, Doc made another call (don't forget....this is on the day before Thanksgiving...) and we haven't heard a peep back from anyone because, unlike the Smiths, the rest of the world knows how and when to take a break. Just what I need. Another bog box of trouble in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. Count yer blessings!

Cheers,
TJ

[m3a1]

There's a lot to be said about turkey dinners, especially when they terminate with two, (count 'em) TWO kinds of pie....with real whipping cream. And rather than go 'whole hog' as I might have in the past, I asked for a half slice of Pumpkin and a half slice of Pecan. Then, in a lightbulb moment, I thought I'd try a little of each, together, in one bite. BAM!

A TOTALLY AWESOME FLAVOR EXPLOSION IN MY MOUTH.

Yeah, you can bet I'm doing THAT again. Granted, it's not haiku written in kangi using skinny fries and spicy ketchup....but...

So, on another entirely different topic, I received a call from a friend who, in my estimation, is fighting his retirement years tooth and nail. And he's one of those fellas who is fixated on making big plans, but then gets mired in the details. So much so, that he doesn't move forward on a lot of things he really ought to. He thinks stuff through to the Nth degree and then, observing the magnitude of what he wants to do, he instead elects not to do anything because the task seems too big.

How do you eat and elephant?

One bite at a time.

Just like pie.

And, there are other, stranger things going on with him. This guy is thin as a rail and claims his doctor says he's overweight and further claims his doctor has him doing some kind of 10,000 steps a day, routine. Bill and I sometimes see him trekking around our community like one of those homeless people who have nowhere to go and are doing their darnedest to get there. Friends, I don't know about you but I'm not wasting precious time walking 10,000 steps a day. If I wanna go 4.5 miles, well....that's what the internal combustion engine is for. I have got other, far more interesting stuff to do and because my interests are so broad, there will never be enough time to do them all. Yes, I am overweight. Yes, I know what overweight looks like and he ain't overweight. I'm a little dumpy looking because I obey gravity. It's The Law. I've made friends with a few extra pounds. After all....you know. PIE....or PIES, plural.

I gave him what I think is some sound advice.

Fire the doctor, save the shoe leather and get busy doing other things.

As for the rest of you, I truly hope your Thanksgiving holiday was massively, stupidly, WONDERFUL. And, if not...no matter. Thanksgiving is just a warm up for Christmas, IMHO. Make the necessary changes and give her another shot in December.

Cheers,
TJ

[rickf]

Were all coming to your house for Christmas. Sounds like you have the best party going.

[raymond]

Were all coming to your house for Christmas. Sounds like you have the best party going.

And I'll be there too .................. especially if your liquor cabinet and cigar humidor are as broad, diverse, and well stocked as your other collections

[rickf]

Now if we can get Hambone on board he can get his son to pick us up in the executive plane and we can all fly down.

[m3a1]

If the weather cooperates, the Texas T's, a Model T club local to the San Antonio area, will be here with their treasured cars (and never has there been a more boring group of individuals who have come together to form a club). They use the party as a sort of jumping off point for the local night parade. They are very much a fair weather group so it's always a crap shoot. At the moment, it's 50/50. Will all my work be wasted?

The world watches....and waits.

Last year, between my own involvement in the night parade and helping to recover a downed Model T afterwards, I spent almost no time at all at the party and got back as many folks were leaving....which kind of spoiled it for me and I reckon it made me a poor host (except to the guy who had help getting his T recovered). So, this year I'm not putting anything in the parade and I'm staying home. Made that decision before Doctor Wifey broke her leg. Under the circumstances, she's gonna need me to help out, for sure.

Bring your own booze... ...and maybe an umbrella.

[raymond]

Bring your own booze... ...and maybe an umbrella.

Well...........I guess I'm out

[rickf]

Come on now, I know all Texans have Mescal and Cerveza, or at least Corona, in the pantry.