The People that You Meet Each Day
I don’t want to spend time creating and describing stereotypes of New Yorkers to everyone. This has been done ad nauseam in TV, Movies, and books. I’ll stick with some observations and unique people I met during this time.
One year I worked at the high rent East Side stand at 66th and 67th and Lexington. This introduced me to a new type of customer the entitled New York upper class twit. The upper class twit has a lot of money and doesn’t consider the workers and staff around them as intelligent or worthy of respect. I sold trees to many of this type and delivered them to their homes. This was an amazing opportunity for me to experience some posh apartments, incredible art, and to get called a moron. One such couple of twits walked up to the stand and began verbally pissing all over the wreaths that we had for sale, then made fun of the dress and general condition of our staff. I heard this in passing but decided that I’ll try to make a sale. The couple was wearing flashy clothes and jewelry. They were not gaudy, but the gems and watches were very expensive looking.
I approached them and introduced myself, “Hello, I’m Time, what can I help you with today.”
The man responded, “We need a tree that doesn’t look like it came from the side of the LIE.”
I started my pitch, “Well sir these trees were all cut within the last few days and are very fresh, I can pull a few out so you can see them better. What size are you looking for?”
The woman replied, “We need the biggest tree you have, we have a very high ceiling. It’s a very spacious home.”
“OK,” I countered. “Just so you know we have up to twenty five foot trees. They will take quite the effort to show you. So I would like you to be very sure of the height before we pull them out.”
The man replied with a snotty tone, “Ohhh we are sure what will and will not fit in OUR apartment. Show us the biggest tree you have.”
“Ok then,” I said stifling my distain, “Let me get some help and we will open the twenty-five footer.”
I talked to the boss and got his permission to move and open the big Fir tree. We had to close off most of the sidewalk as we unbound the monster. As we unfurred the tree I watched the couple’s eye widen. They walked around it while maintaining their distance from the branches and especially the folks trying to hold it up.
“So what do you think, is it big enough for you?” I asked. “Do you want us to bind it up and deliver it for you?” It’ll be Three hundred and fifty dollars with another fifty for the installation and stand.”
She responded, “Well do you have something else for us to look at?”
I commented, “We do, but they are quite a bit smaller and less impressive.”
The couple walked aside and began to deliberate. I went back to the poor schlubs holding up the monstrosity and told them to relax and try to get it out of the way. The couple argued, with the woman seemingly pouting for a bit.
Finally they returned and the woman spoke. “We’ll take it, we need to move a few things to prepare, but we want it delivered this afternoon so we can decorate it before our party.”
“Ok, please pay the stand manager, tell him your information, and I’ll begin getting your tree ready for transport and delivery.”
The tree was funneled into the special large bailer that we had at this stand and eventually loaded onto the truck. We had to get our delivery guy with the big truck and three guys to move the beast. I went on the delivery to help with the logistics and set up. I was sure to bring a saw, tools, a broom, trash bags, and a forty-foot tape measure.
We approached the building and had to double park the truck while unloading the tree. The home entrance was thankfully on the first floor. We met the help at the door, the couple was nowhere to be seen. We were able to get the thing into the door around the furniture, pieces of art and pictures on the white walls. The living room did have a big ceiling, but it sure didn’t look like it was over twenty five feet. The walls were lined from chest high to ceiling with built in book shelves. There had to be several hundred books lining the walls. The couple arrived and I told them the tree was too big for the ceiling. I measured it and showed it to them. They stood in disbelief, but couldn’t deny the number I showed them. Twenty four feet was the ceiling-to-floor height, if I added the stand then the tree was two feet too tall. The only options were to take it back, cut it, or cut a hole in the ceiling. I relayed these options to the couple and they began whining and complaining to me.
I reminded them that the stand manager would not take a return without keeping half of the money and they would not have a tree for their party tonight. So they decided to have us cut it. I informed them that once we cut the trunk it’ll be a much different tree. It will lose most of the fullest branches. They agreed and then the work began.
As the men cut the trunk I started making small talk with my customers.
“You have a beautiful home I really love all of the books you have. What types of books do you collect? Who is the big reader you or your partner?”
The man responded, “They were picked for their colors, I don’t know where they came from.”
“Well…,” I responded with even less respect than I thought possible, “they sure do look wonderful.”
The tree was cut down to size and stood up after about forty-five minutes, it looked quite ugly now with big open spots. We cleaned up and I started to leave. The man of the house gave his maid a fifty dollar bill and she gave it to me. I was done wasting our collective time, I thanked the maid and turned to the couple who had a confused and disappointed look on their face.
I ended our interaction with a snarky pitch, “Well, thank you for your business. I look forward to seeing you next year, however I would recommend a twenty foot tree. It would be perfect in your space.”
Yorkers could surprise you. I was becoming hardened and disenchanted with people in general after several days in the city. One evening an older couple I had seen walking to the store every other day stopped at the stand. They wanted a Douglas fir that needed to be a certain size and shape. They had a picture with them and a tape measure. They were enthusiastic, respectful, and seemed to be having a great time with the process. They had a strong German accent but kept talking to me and each other in English. They picked out the tree that met their requirements and I packed it up and delivered it. Turns out they lived right across from the stand. As we were walking to their apartment I asked them why they had such a specific tree in mind. The gentleman indicated that they were from Germany and left for New York after the war. Every year they would try to find a tree that matched the one they left behind on their farm and recreate the same look of the picture they had. I stayed for a schnapps and chocolate as they showed me the other trees they had already decorated, this was their third. They let me know that the tree I sold them was the closed they had found to the tree they left behind.
We Tree Men also experienced kindness that could thaw our freezing hearts as the holiday got closer. We had people bring us hot cocoa, eggnog, cookies, food, and brandy. It was those people that made me forget the others for a time.
The People that You Don’t Meet Each Day
There are some people I met that blew my mind. They were different in one way or another from the others I’ve outlined previously.
The first encounter of an exceptional person was one of beauty. I saw many an attractive person, male and female, but one just took my breath away. I was working the ritzy stand at the time and was shooting the shit with one of my coworkers. Then I saw her. She was at the far end if the Armory and approaching the stand of trees. She was six foot tall or more with brown knee high boots. She had brown or tan leggings that seemed to go on forever like the legs inside. My eyes traveled up to a most impressive and proportional waist and chest surrounded by a sweater and leather jacket. I saw her face and it was perfect in the furry hat she was sporting. I immediately pushed a co-worker out of my way and approached the woman and some dude that was with her. I didn’t know he existed and completely ignored him. She was looking at a ten foot Fraser fir and I immediately pulled it out for her to get a better look. The tree that is.
“Hello miss, how can I help you!!” I sang.
She responded in sweet Australian accent, “I’m looking for a tree for my apartment.”
“Well you came to the right place,” I responded stupidly.
She repled, “I want this one and I want it delivered this afternoon to my apartment.”
I told her way too quickly, “I’ll be sure to deliver it personally.”
She gave the stand manager her delivery info and the money. I told him there was no way I wasn’t going to deliver this tree.
He saw my eyes and said, “Keep it in your pants, Time.”
I proceeded to wrap and carry the tree to the customer’s apartment with extreme urgency. I didn’t want to miss her and deal with whomever the dude was. I arrived at the Park Avenue and 68th street apartment slightly out of breath. I entered and told the doorman where I was going and took the elevator up a few floors.
I ring the doorbell and instead of the beauty I met earlier an older Puerto Rican woman answers the door with a Que?
I responded, “I’m here to deliver and set up a Christmas tree.”
In a Rosie Perez like accent she responded with, “Meez Mak Fearsom wants it set up over there in the corner by her picture.”
Recognition of the photo on the wall was instantaneous and the previous interaction and reaction of mine flooded back with new insight.
I was mentally kicking myself, “You were talking to supermodel fool, one you have lusted over since you were fourteen.”
Inset Elles apartment pic.
There was no sign of Elle MacPherson or her Australian accent. Only the picture on the wall and an old Puerto Rican woman. I received a twenty dollar tip from the housekeeper and went on my way.
The second person that stuck with me was exceptionally shocking for a very different reason. I was working a typical day on a new stand. This one was on the Upper East Side just shy of Spanish Harlem. It was an area in transition. There was a ton of bars in the area and a distinct border between new and old housing. Gentrification was occurring and they were knocking down projects and putting up a new high rise apartment building. There were complaints from half of the people in the area that our prices were too high. This was likely the new and old residents’ different demographics.
An old woman in her early seventies approached the stand. She was wearing a babushka, a blue coat, and was towing a shopping basket. She looked just like my beloved grandmother. My grandmother is one of the sweetest and most caring persons I have met. Every word from her comes from the heart. I smiled as I approached the old woman.
I said sweetly, “Hello ma’am, how are you this beautiful day? How can I help you?”
She started to respond before the word day left my lips with, “You rotten cocksuckers should be ashamed of yourselves. How can you sell these fuckin trees for this much? Who do you think you are? Who’s going to buy this shit?”
I had no response and the look of shock, disappointment and sadness on my face must have rattled her. She turned away and kept walking while she muttered more of the same vile stuff.
Crack, Crime, and Co-Workers
So it was hinted at earlier that crack and crime were ever present in New York at the time. There were good reasons why the guys at the stands were doing transactions in the huts. Strong armed robbery, muggings, stick ups, and theft were everywhere. There were shards of glass vials and pipes all over most alcoves and alleys.
Crack heads were always looking for a buck to feed the pipe. They did this by various methods. There was the straight forward begging in front of a place of business, volunteering to help a passerby or customer in exchange for a small fee, theft, mugging, and selling of random ill-gotten goods. The stand was a natural place for all of these approaches. These folks are always around you like seagulls following a fishing boat. Pedestrians needed or wanted to slow down from their brisk city walk to look at or buy the trees, there was cash being exchanged in the street, there were distracted people both working and patronizing the stand, and finally there was stuff to steal and people at the stand to buy.
You needed to sell while still keeping your eye on the crackhead skulking around the stand. This was very nerve racking and wore you out. A poorly placed fuck off to the crackhead could kill your sale as could the crackhead annoying or scaring the customer. We were on a city street not on private property, so there was no legal recourse for us to tell the crackhead, beggar, or crazy transvestite to leave. There were a few ways we dealt with this. One way was to have a blocker on your stand. One of the bigger and less sales savvy employees would be on one or each end of the stand to intimidate the street person. They would stop them, confront them, and most importantly let them know they were noticed. This would encourage the unwanted person to move on to the next spot for the day.
I walked home from the stand with several hundred dollars in my pocket every night. The seagulls kept an eye out for the guys leaving the stands because they knew we had cash. Some of us walked together or took cabs. I refused cabs because I needed my money and I had two legs. When I left the stands I kept vigilant, mumbled a lot, and in general acted crazy. I also had a very illegal six-inch hunting knife strapped to my hip. My appearance and awareness kept the random crackhead from bothering me. I passed rocks being smoked in and around the dark places on my walk to the hotel. It seemed to be everywhere especially around the dicier stands like the East Village. I would take the bus or subway when necessary because they were only a dollar twenty-five for a token at the time.
Working at the stand at night, or even worse overnight, meant guard duty. You were by yourself against the neighborhood. This meant keeping aware of your surroundings, setting up and consolidating the stand for security, creating sight lines, and staying awake. I had to regularly chase dudes trying to run away with a tree or trying to hide, piss, or sleep behind the piles. I started a habit of juggling or throwing a hatchet or knife into a cut log every time an unsavory looking person would come into my awareness. This kept the crazies away better than more lights or additional people.
With all of the crack related chaos out on the streets, Hotel Hell should have been a refuge for me. This was not always the case.
My second year I decided to go to the city early before my final exams. I needed the extra money and I had the idiotic expectation of being able to study during my time in the Hotel or at the stand during slow periods. After four days I would need to travel back home and take my chemistry, engineering dynamics and differential equations final. Then Dean was going to take be back to the city with a load of fresh trees.
Don agreed to my plan and asked me to take cash back to his wife during my travels back with the company van. I had to work at whatever stands needed me and stay in whatever rooms were available at the Windermere.
I arrived the day after Thanksgiving and was put on Milt’s stand with his brother and some other Hilljack nutcase. They appeared to be in good spirits as I approached and informed me that I would be staying in their room this week.
We worked the full day and got along relatively well. As the night guard got there Milt had to go meet Don and the rest of the managers, Matt and the Hilljack told me they were going to grab some food and drinks at a bar. I went to the corner and picked up iced tea and pizza prior to studying at the hotel. No forty bombs for this college guy. They gave me the room key and told me to let them in once they returned from dinner.
I ate my food while studying for two hours. About this time Matt and the Hilljack were knocking on the door like a drug raid was underway. I checked the peephole and let them in. They passed me without a word carrying bags of beer and entered the bedroom which I assumed was Milt’s. The bedroom had a table and chairs with deck of cards and a very full ashtray on it. They closed the door and I forgot about them for a bit as I tried to study in the living room on my cot. I ignored the sound of clanging beer bottles, laughter and coughing, the strong whiff of weed coming from the bedroom, and something else I couldn’t put my finger on.
Milt arrived back from the stand managers meeting and aggressively knocked on the door for me to let him in. I stood up from my cot as the bedroom door shot open. Matt hurried to the front door and let his brother in. From my view of the bedroom I could see the Hilljack sucking on a crack stem with a butane lighter at the other end. There were four vials of crack on the table and two were empty.
Matt hurried in to the bedroom ignoring me, Milt did the same except for a quick back and forth look to the bedroom then to me. The door was slammed and I considered my situation.
I said to myself, “I’m working with a bunch of goddammed crackheads, I’ve got finals to study for, and now I have to worry about getting rolled in my sleep.”
As I was contemplating my fate there was arguing in the bedroom. I couldn’t make out most of it, but it included Milt and the Hilljack going back and forth about not wanting to go to 42 Street again. Just then the door shot open and the Hilljack trotted out the door with Matt. Milt came out of the bedroom with the look in his eyes I had become familiar with dealing with the street crackheads. I was a hyper aware that he was staring at me.
Milt came out of the bed room toward me, I stood up to face him. He then pulled a folding pocket knife out of his pocket opened it and confronted me. My knife was in my work pants under my cot. Milt stopped half way between me and the door to the hotel room.
Milt wildly spat, “You tell anyone about what you see in this room or on the stand and I’ll cut your motherfucking throat in your sleep.”
I stuttered and said, “Milt buddy, I don’t give a flying shit about what you guys do as long as you chill the fuck out. What you do is your business, now put the godammed knife away.”
Milt smiled at me like the first day at the stand and said, “I’m just fuckin with ya, Time. Come have a beer and some weed and relax. You work too hard.”
I drank a beer, took a toke or two from a joint, and went back to my cot. This must have convinced him that I wasn’t a rat, so Milt relaxed and smoked the rest of the rocks. He told me Matt and the Hilljack fucked up and only got a few rocks. He sent them to 42nd street to score more so it could last for the rest of the night. They returned at midnight with more crack. I kept on trying to study while they continued to smoke and play cards. Milt and the Hilljack spent twenty minutes looking for rocks on the scummy floor prior to deciding to go for another run. They went back out to score again at four o’clock. This was repeated every night as well at the stand.
I was relieved after the four days were over. I was going to another room and stand when I returned. I never wanted to take a final more in my life.
The End Game
“So Time, you’re out, you’re free, you’re rehabilitated. What’s next? What’s happenin’? What you gonna do? You got the money you owe us?”
I usually returned from the city on the night of the twenty third. The next day I travel to the farm to get paid. I was able to make enough to get presents on Christmas Eve, pay for my next semester of college, and have some spending money. It was well worth it in the end.
So after an adventure like this you are a mess, tired, usually sick, and wanting a clean cockroach-free bed. Most importantly you need sensory isolation. I arrived home to my parents’ house and couldn’t believe the utter silence and serenity. I hugged and kiss my mom and sisters, hugged my dad, and greeted my family warmly. Mom was in the kitchen getting ready for dinner on Christmas Eve, dad was watching football, my sisters were asking me about my adventures. I was numb but content because I was home. Home where it was noise free, warm, roach free, crack free, Milt free, and chaos free.
Merry Christmas Everyone and thanks for reading.
Sincerely,
Timeloose
The City Then and Now
The city was a different place than it is today. This is obvious from my story. There was a lot of negative aspects to the job, but there was much to enjoy as well. So much of what made the place enjoyable and tolerable were the people we met and places we frequented when we had time for a break. These were usually food establishments, stores nearby with stuff I could never find at home, and the excitement and flavor of the city itself. I feel this has been diminished over the years. The same things that make the city exciting to nineteen year old time are the same things that were getting routed out by gentrification and growth. They city is thriving, but along the way that flavor is lost. Most of the great places we ate at are now banks or chain restaurants. Several of the grocery’s we sold in from of are closed including the 110th street store. Below were some of my favorite places, some are no more.
Fowad: Not a restaurant but a strange clothing store with crazy outfits. The window displays were fun to look at.
Happy Burger: I hit this place up for a burger and calendar for many years after I stopped doing tree sales.
Columbia Hot Bagels: The best Bagel I ever had. Chewy and soft at the same time. More Cream cheese than I thought possible.
Mikes Papaya: A great place for a cheap meal. The papaya drinks were good and refreshing. This place has gone away as have many of the papaya hot dog places.
Hotel Windermere: Hotel Hell was renovated and now has apartments for six to fifteen grand a month. WTF? How did they get all of the glass out of the lobby roof?
Dive Bar: Still the same as I remembered
Koronet Pizza: Giant slices of pizza that kept me full while saving money.
Comments
417 responses to “Hey Tree Man!!! – Tales of the Big City and of Time’s, Past Part 3: Oh the Humanity”
“You have a beautiful home I really love all of the books you have. What types of books do you collect? Who is the big reader you or your partner?”
The man responded, “They were picked for their colors, I don’t know where they came from.”
In my many years in used books, I encountered that far too often. Sad’nd me greatly, every time.
By the way, this series has been great. I am a best coast boy and only spent a week in NYC in the late ’90s. Way more than I could deal with.
Reminds me of something my father taught me when I was young. We had a neighborhood not too far from us that were small horse properties, 1 acre with house, run-in and corral. People that lived there thought they owned some kind of serious horse property and my dad referred to that area as the only place known to man with twice as many horses asses as horses.
In a previous life the book company I worked for sold “Books-by-the-Yard” Exactly as you described them. Restaurants, store displays and home decorators.
We had a fairly rigid criteria and the books were authentic but no 1st Edition Hemingways in a box. A box held a yard, at the time we were getting $15 a yard.
I enjoyed your experiences, a far cry from my growing up years. I worked in a lot of bigger cities but never in those problem areas, more like the suburbs where a person didn’t have to carry a knife for protection. Great story, perfect for this week. Thanks, Timeloose. Merry Christmas
Thanks for you kind words.
https://www.booksbythefoot.com/
I can’t even.
The market will find a way. This, however, I don’t get.
http://www.booksbythefoot.com/shop/pc/Kraft-Wrapped-Coffee-Table-p100.htm
They mention props for movie/TV/theater, which was my first thought.
Weird to me, too. But, when you understand a need, you can begin to meet it, I suppose.
“Well…,” I responded with even less respect than I thought possible, “they sure do look wonderful.”
The tree was cut down to size and stood up after about forty-five minutes, it looked quite ugly now with big open spots. We cleaned up and I started to leave. The man of the house gave his maid a fifty dollar bill and she gave it to me. I was done wasting our collective time, I thanked the maid and turned to the couple who had a confused and disappointed look on their face.
I ended our interaction with a snarky pitch, “Well, thank you for your business. I look forward to seeing you next year, however I would recommend a twenty foot tree. It would be perfect in your space.”
This made me laugh.
I like the German couple. No sarcasm.
She responded in sweet Australian accent
Oh fuck. That’s a weakness of mine.
There was no sign of Elle MacPherson or her Australian accent. Only the picture on the wall and an old Puerto Rican woman. I received a twenty dollar tip from the housekeeper and went on my way.
Doh’t. Well… twenty bucks is twenty bucks.
I started a habit of juggling or throwing a hatchet or knife into a cut log every time an unsavory looking person would come into my awareness. This kept the crazies away better than more lights or additional people.
Better than the cops too. Or is that like saying the Sun rises in the East?
I liked the story. Thanks!
” I love these NEW YORK STORIES!”
I “These folks are always around you like seagulls following a fishing boat. ”
Poetry.
Thank you, Time. This has been immensely enjoyable
Not a bad ending, but it if I’m being honest…part 1 and 2 were better written.
I did enjoy the whole series though, so thank you Timeloose. ?
Disregard the first sentence Timeloose, I was quite drunk by that time. Second one stands.
I started a habit of juggling or throwing a hatchet or knife into a cut log every time an unsavory looking person would come into my awareness.
That would do it. Great story Time. You would have been better off borrowing the money for college and then demanding others pay your debt though. As to Elle, well, *deletes inappropriate comment* Did her apartment smell like coconut oil and lilies? That is what I expect a swimsuit models home to smell like. Honestly enjoyed the series Thanks!
I have known a few crack heads. Shit be no good.
I have a relative that saw the inside of several Philly crackhouses. Not a good scene.
Ok, just saw the new article is up, and haven’t read through it yet, but just want to offer congratulations to DoomCO and DoomGF, and their Christmas miracle birth. Truly amazing.
Thanks Gustave!
I feel like I hadn’t been able to really vent to anyone but some close family, so thanks to everyone for reading.
It really was a miracle.
Timeloose, I appreciate you writing this down for our collective entertainment.
/raises a glass of mead
I add my hearty “here! here!”
I lived in NYC for one year – well, to be technical, Queens, right near Brooklyn, but even that was better than Manhattan, to my mind. I hated going into Manhattan. It’s for some people, but not me.
Merry Christmas, Time. Great stories.
I have never been to NYC. Which is mildly entertaining since I’ve been all the way up to Maine with the parents when I was a teen. And there were the trips up to Toronto once we were 19 and traveled through Buffalo.
FWIW, the diner is alive and well in the Outer Borough – along with much of the ambiance (? for lack of a better word) that people miss from the “good old days”. In my 22 years here I lived in Manhattan for 2 years (in the late aughts) and it was already getting boring. Probably wouldn’t return even if I could afford it.
Great series, Time!
Thanks. I had found Manhattan boring the last time I was there and Brooklyn is going the same way.
I’m in a part of Brooklyn that’s apparently immune to gentrification.
I used to go to an after hours coffee house in Hollywood called Top Fuel. It was crazy as fuck. You’d see some of the edgier celebrities there. There was fights and cops and outlaw bikers and all manner of craziness. They had a beat up pool table and after I got to know the foibles of that particular table, I could beat anybody on it. I ran it all night, whenever I wanted. I stopped going there around 2001 or so. I had occasion to pass the old location and it has been turned into…..an aromatherapy candle store! All of Hollywood has been pussified the same way. I’m glad crime is way down, but man it sucks to see this shit.
There’s a 24-hour coffee shop that’s been in a section of Cleveland for decades. Back in the day, that’s where you could find the junkies shooting up and nodding off in the middle of the night. Now it’s a hot trendy place to stop after the bars close.
I live next door to a gigantic pool hall. No alcohol – they mean business.
Sounds like the place I grew up near. The owner was a Billiards player who made some money going pro. He opened a pool hall with four billiards tables. Those tables were used rarely, but the usual reason was for the owner to shut someone up on how to play pool.
This place has like 50 tables. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never been. I like pool but I’m not very good and I have no one to play with.
I spent my teenage years playing far too much pool. I was middling-average, but could make money in the pool halls by reading the sharks, winning the first couple games, then bowing out (which pissed them off). One downside of the house I purchased is there’s nowhere I can fit a pool table in.
Thanks Time!
Hotel Windermere: Hotel Hell was renovated and now has apartments for six to fifteen grand a month. WTF? How did they get all of the glass out of the lobby roof?
My mom’s cousin emailed a property listing for a condo that sits on my great grandfather’s old farm in Surrey. It’s part of a larger country club type development. Single condo is ~$800kCDN and got snapped up right away.
Great read Time. You have an admirable outlook on life.
Reminds me of my favorite Chesterton quote (I’ve mentioned it here before, but I love it)
“An inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered.
An adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.”
You seen to find the adventure.
You seem(?) to find the adventure.
Oh, that is excellent.
I realized that my entire upbringing was a series of adventures. When younger I tried to avoid adventures but I have found that as I grow old, my best stories are adventures that I never intended.
That’s great. You are correct it was an adventure for me.
An old climbers and sailors saying is: “Judgement comes from experience and experience comes from a lack of judgement.”
Also- “There are bold climbers and old climbers, but there are no old bold climbers.”
“Education is what you get when you read the fine print; experience is what you get when you don’t.”
– Pete Seeger
“There are old pilots, and there are bold pilots… but there are no old, bold pilots.”
– My first Commanding Officer of a tactical helo squadron
You aren’t a motorcyclist until you have gone down.
Yeah, there’s a line that I’ve heard applied to both flying helos and riding motorcycles:
“There are two kinds of helo pilots/motorcycle riders: those who have crashed, and those who will.”
There’s a lot of crossover between motorcycles and airplanes. Boats too. I think it might be that they all tilt and lean similarly.
Riding dirt bikes (properly) taught me how to drive on the snow. Pitch it sideways, turn into it.
The only time I have dropped a moving motorcycle was returning from an Iron Butt ride (>1,000 miles in less than 24 hours). I was pulling into my driveway, there was a woman jogging with an inappropriately sized sports bra. I was mesmerized by the bouncy action and laid it down.
Of all the reasons to lay one down, that’s up there, Nick.
And yes, blackjack, a lot of crossover between planes/helos and motorcycles. I have to admit I only ride motorcycles because it’s as close as I’ll ever get to flying an attack helicopter again. That rush is hard to kick, but a ‘liter bike’ is a fair simulacrum.
Second time in 31 years, I don’t have my Wendy, ouch, but I get a grandkids tomorrow so that’s cool,
I miss the earth so much,
I miss my Wife,
It’s lonely out in space,
Except for Bella,
I
Enjoy your grandkids, Bob. I hope you have a peaceful, pleasant Christmas.
I hope you enjoy the time with your kids and your wife continues to heal up.
Hope Wendy heals up fast. Trust you will have a good Christmas in spite of it all.
HEY YUFUS!
I poured one out for you and Wendy earlier…..right down my THROAT!
Enjoy the kids, and my best to you, Wendy, and Bella.
Have a good X-mas Yusef. We all rooting for you.
Merry Christmas!
Superb story. And ironically, the description of the people matches my experience in the fire service and EMS. I started out in the ambulance business in some of the poorest communities in the San Francisco Bay Area. Some of the people I interacted with that slept behind dumpsters were the salt of the earth. I later went into the fire service in one of most affluent communities in the Bay Area. Some of those people were real cuntes. It isn’t the money, or lack their of, it’s the personality and upbringing of the people. In the end, people are people, regardless of socioeconomic status.
Solzhenitsyn writes about how even in the gulag you could find selfless people. Environment has something to do with it, but not everything.
Along those lines, what I found is that you take on aspects of the environment you work in.
No idea what you’re talking about. *Munches dried seaweed*
^This is why I had to get out of customer service – in particular hotel jobs in shitty neighborhoods
I had a shoulder length perm, an earring, and my jive was impeccable.
shoulder length perm
*points and laughs!!
It was horrible. I looked like a young Weird Al Yankovic.
Oh I thought you were joking about the perm.
That trend was before my time, thank God.
Let’s just say I was a little melanin deficient to sport that look.
I didn’t have to get a perm. I just had to let my hair grow. very scary.
This is what I think of when I hear about boy perms.
Ya, that is my hair on the left back in the day. Now when it gets long my friends just tell me I look like a homeless person. The curls loosened up. So did the rest of me for that matter.
When I first escaped from juvenile custody, I read Dostoevsky and Solzhenitsyn voraciously. I used to go to crown books and read a whole book in one sitting. It struck me how humanity prevails even under the strongest duress. I am still in awe of the degree of suffering Russians have endured. And still, they put out timeless books that are instructive and entertaining. Made it hard to complain about my circumstances.
Crime and Punishment is the best book I’ve ever read.
Right?
“…escaped from juvenile custody…”
I would read that story {hint, hint}
It would be interesting to compare it to my short experience as a foster dad.
I think it’s on here. Look up blackjack’s stuff. I don’t recall if he dealt with the escape specifically, but he covers a bunch of it. It’s awesome.
Thanks, I really enjoyed the experience.
It’s already been posted here I have lots more, but time to write it out seems elusive. I’ll get something together before too long.
I missed your story when it was posted — I was travelling. That’s a hell of a story.
Btw, I adopted my kid through the county. I was a foster dad for two years almost before it was final. He’s 7 now.
Cool. (checks out link)
My adopted daughter is 18. While not perfect, I’m pretty confident I did better than my dad, who left when I was in 3rd grade. The last time I saw him was my wedding (24 years ago).
We raised her from 18 months.
No such thing as perfect. We got Vin at 6 weeks old. Hes a joy.
That motherfucking threat-I’m-kidding! move is rampant among scumbags. Pesci in Goodfellas. I suppose it works for what they want, but it will eventually get you killed.
Yeah, that stood out to me too, as particularly despicable.
Agreed.
The only sympathetic character in this entire series was the grandmother.
Go on…
Hyperbole, is that you?
To a certain extent, I agree.
I don’t get it.
Hyperbole is a contrarian. Looked at in a specific way, your comment fits that narrative. I agree that granny is miserable in life.
If by “miserable” you mean “winning”, then yes.
I don’t see it that way. I see an angry old woman in a third story walk up that’s barely getting by.
No I’m not.
“DOCTOR: Burger King’s ‘Impossible Burger’ Has 18 Million Times More Estrogen Than Regular Whopper
Burger King’s Impossible Burger may cause men to grow breasts.”
https://nationalfile.com/doctor-burger-kings-impossible-burger-has-18-million-times-more-estrogen-than-regular-whopper/
I turned 50 this year; I can grow breasts quite easily on my own thank you very much.
“New York Elects Libertarian Senator”
Pics or it never happened.
If a dude eats one, he grows a man bun?
A master lesson in fake news.
1.) The phytoestrogen causes man boobs hypothesis is bullshit.
2.) The doctor is a doctor of veterinary medicine. Yes, he did his first year of med school like everyone else, but he’s no endocrinologist.
3.) Dr. Stangle, DVM, claims, without citation, that six glasses of soy milk is sufficient to cause gynecomastia. Even if one accepts the debunked theory that phytoestrogens disrupt the male hormonal system, Mitchell, et al. (2001) reported gynecomastia occurring at a threshold of the equivalent of 3 quarts of soy milk intake daily. A cup of soy milk has 6 mg of phtyoestrogens. If we assume that a standard glass is 8 fluid oz., then that’s just under a cup. So to achieve the effects reported in Mitchell et al. (2001), one would need to drink 96 fluid oz. or 12 glasses daily which provide a dose of 576 mg of phytoestrogens per day. If Stangle is correct in his claim that an Impossible Whopper contains 44 mg of phytoestrogen, then one would have to actually eat 13 Impossible Whoppers daily to be at risk of gynecomastia, not 4.
4.) No human male would willing eat an Impossible Whopper.
“No human male would willing eat an Impossible Whopper.”
I’ll try anything once.
The things I like, I’ll try ’em twice.
I eat ass, but I would never eat an Impossible burger.
How about a fir burger?
😉 at Timeloose.
Maybe a fur burger, but a fir burger is how you get splinters in your teeth.
You think I was winking at Timeloose for a different reason?
Oh, I thought you were coming on to TL.
So, if you eat them you grow EIGHT tits?
Only on Mars.
Instead of holiday music, it’s Rammstein, good enough,
I have this playing as I pack up for my trip.
Yusef… here’s a song that may fit your tastes (Santa Lost a Ho).
Snobs are hilarious but horrible.
I can’t imagine having someone pick books for the color.
That offended me more than most things I’d experienced during this time.
I’d never even heard of that. I might have a shelf-ful of books I haven’t read but at least I picked each one myself with the best of intentions 🙂
I had a few encounters with some people l in a few of my jobs. When I worked at the ski resort, they really did seem to think I wasn’t a person.
At least as a locksmith I could have some better responses.
After the encounters you almost don’t think it’s real.
Sometimes the ski resort workers are douches, too. Suppose that’s from dealing with assholes all day.
That and the fact that any day you see them, that’s on the day with the worst hangover they’ve ever had.
Speaking of ski resorts, here is what I did today Christmas Eve at a ski resort
+ 1 ski town
Got free lift tickets to Aspen one year. Normally, we’d drive up from Denver to Loveland, Copper or Keystone. 3 or 4 days a week on a season pass that cost about $250. Bought my skis at the pawn shop and my ski coat and pants were held together with duct tape. The snobs in Aspen acted like royalty in their flawless ski outfits in the fashionable color of the year. I’m sure they saw us as scumbags. Many of them were total posers and it was hilarious watching them snowplow down the hill.
2014 (?) was the only year in my life I bought new skis, a pair of Rossignol Soul 7’s (188’s). Other than that it was always ski swaps or from buddies or a “hey, I know a guy” deal. I haven’t been skiing for a few years now because who can afford it. Last time I went it was Telluride and the whole scene seemed foreign. I might just be getting old. Snow is still snow and skis still slide and they are way better these days. Not to mention the snow boards. The days of bent plywood are way gone.
SniagraB FTW.
My grandmother did exactly that. She got mad when I read a few. They were arranged just so and reading them disrupted that.
From the last post’s links- I think it’s laughable that the Pentagon is warning about lax controls on DNA collection. Those assholes have been doing it for twenty years and letting just about anyone access it. Just for identifying remains, my ass.
Xmas music
https://youtu.be/BpfHSqLXePI
https://youtu.be/IJPc7esgvsA
A very entertaining read, thanks for taking the time to do it, Time.
Great tale Time. You caught “the City” very well. Like you, I am glad I got to spend time there, but not long enough to grow old and die there.
I once read decades ago that NYC is the United States true capital and that DC is merely the seat of the government.
I love visiting and love leaving. That’s why it great to have option of where to live.
So, I’ve decided the nephews’ new computer and monitor isn’t getting wrapped, because it’d be too much of a PITA.
On the other hand, I did pour myself a dram of Middleton’s, and it’s still as good as I remember.
Dear Zardoz-
My neighbor’s wife brought a gift to me & Jugsy. A sweet potato souffle, topped with brown sugar and pecans, clearly made from scratch.
I’m trying to adhere to a low-carb diet and Jugsy doesn’t like sweet potato. What should I do with it?
Yours in David Koresh,
Tres
Cleanse it through consumption. ‘Tis the time of year to gain weight.
Shove it down Janet Reno’s fat face until she pukes.
Pretty sure she’s keeping Lou Reed company.
Poor Lou…
Set it on fire and shoot it if it tries to run.
Eat the fuck out of it. It’s Christmas.
Yep. Merry Christmas, Spud!
Merry Christmas, E!
Mold it into a phallic shape and put it on the hood of your car with a Prince Albert Christmas ornament. #firstthoughts #whatthefuckiswrongwithme
What you’re cookin’ I’m smellin’.
Needs lights on the glans tho.
You stick around long enough, you’ll still smell what was cooked.
Burning out his own fuse up here alone,
Now that is a euphemism!
I suggest more Lubriderm and a change of hands.
Hope your Wendy is getting on well. Didn’t wanna say anything about my wife’s condition, but she had a cancer scare. Doc seemed to be sure it was. Just now she sent me message from the hospital. Test result: negative. Thank god. We’re all in the boat with you, Yusef. Wish I could do anything from here, but it’s tough.
In your case negative is good, thanks for the prayers, Happy japenese Christmas,
Superb straff, superb.
Yes it is. Thanks. Both her parents have gotten it already. We watch extra closely.
Yeah grats on that.
Huzzah! She needs to stick around to let you back in the house when you get locked out late at night, if for nothing else. 😉
Removed the bolt lock a while back. *Taps temple with finger*
Isnt that a ‘bort rock’ ?
Seriously- great news
Reminds me of someone who posted not one but three videos of Chisato Moritaka’s ROCK ALIVE tour all misspelled that way. And two of them have the correct spelling in the opening graphics of the videos.
This is good.
The girlfriend had to get the second test a while back… also negative.
/raises pint glass
?Best cheers there can be.
Excellent
Good to hear.
Huzzah for your wife, straff.
Huzzah for grandkids, Yu.
Huzzah for the rest of us, because holiday reasons.
Merry Christmas, bro. Sending positive vibes to you and your family.
Compared to where you’ve been recently, this isn’t that bad. You have a roof over your head, Wendy is on the mend, and you have work. You don’t have Wendy with you but you do have your grandkids. You have to take what you can get.
Spud said it better than I can.
How real men play Jingle Bells.
Damn fine writing, Timeloose. Descriptive and humorous. Also, Christmas themed. Thanks!
Merry Christmas!
Also, fried chicken.
Second. Thanks Time, I’ve enjoyed this immensely.
Thanks y’all.
Good stuff TL, I love a good read,
I enjoyed all three. Reminds me of when I’d visit NYC, and the woman I dated….
https://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/ny-avenatti-geragos-nike-20191224-7znw2ufttbc5bazfncslcdk6fm-story.html
Yes, yes! Feed on each other!
Hm. But it’s perfectly OK for the AG of NY to shake down banks and energy companies for hundreds of millions of dollars.
Because reasons! *throws smoke bomb and disappears*
Christmas eve at pistoffnick’s house:
Raclette cheese
Boiled potatoes
Blanched cauliflower and broccoli
Ceasar Salad
Prosciutto wrapped asparagus
Bacon wrapped jalapeno poppers
Charcuterie plate
I’m kind of full.
We played the dice game. You roll 3 die. If you get doubles, you get to pick a gift (< $25). After all the gifts are picked we do show and tell of what we got, then set the timer for 15 minutes. If you roll doubles, you get to steal someone's gift. Hot items this year were macadamia nuts, the burrito blanket, and the life straw. The extra strength pickle juice energy drinks were a bust (I was told they taste like battery acid).
You had me at raclette and boiled potatoes.
We had a pleasant afternoon with friends drinking wine and eating appetizers. We left before the dinner chaos started, and it all went very well.
Raclette is my absolute favorite cheese. I’m glad there is about a half pound left over. Tasty scrambled eggs for a while!
OMWC and I do a pizza that starts with paper thin potatoes and raw mild raclette. It doesn’t matter what else you put on it.
Sounds delicious. Merry Christmas!
Wife just whipped up some turkey chili from Thanksgiving leftovers. Pouring another bourbon. Cheers!
Merry Christmas to you too.
Burrito blanket? Is that like a Dirty Sanchez?
Not at all. I ordered one for each of my daughters.
I am partial to the big blue burrito. That’s when you get too drunk camping, crawl in your bag and just roll up in a blue tarp for the night.
Christmas and all. I’ll refrain myself.
Made the first batch of posole in many years to take to daughter #1’s place tomorrow.
Ho. Lee. Fuck.
It’s easily the best batch that I’ve ever made, on tap for the best I’ve had.
Skipped the pigs feet and used powdered red chile instead of pods. Still don’t know what I did right.
Peace to all.
My guess is you got your hands on a good chili powder. They are blends and some are awesome. I have done the boil the pods thing for dishes and always get better results with powder. I am ashamed to say I have never made or had posole. The hominy always scared me off.
Michael Symon’s place downtown offers pig tails, feet, and ears. I’ve had two of them, and they’ve both been awesome.
For several years the girlfriend and I have gone to a Christmas party that’s supposedly for board gamers and has the evil santa aspect. So show up with a gift, and you’ll walk away with one. My complaint is that some of the gifts are terrible (I have geekopoly because of this).
Watching the Star Wars Christmas special on YouTube. This really sucks. And embarrassing as fuck.
Here’s a nice Christmas tune https://youtu.be/a6343mCWdHo
Gould, you glorious bastard- you need the Star Wars Christmas Special! (c. late 1970s)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZX0x-I06Fpc
That’s what I’m watching. And Diahann Carroll is a smokeshow. I saw her in a theater production in Chicago when I was a kid. I don’t even remember the play title, or plot. But 10 year old egould was like “schwing!” when she was on stage.
I blame too many beers @ Tres Sr’s
Party on!
Great series Timey.
My only exp with NYC was a day trip by bus in late fall-ish (1993 I think…) from central PA. Don’t recall any real details – maybe a museum or some other stuff. Despite (in spite of) all the shows, movies, etc that I watch, i legit have 0 interest in going back, much less living somewhere like that (or LA).
Might potentially visit again in the future, but I’d need a seriously good reason, and only with discounted lodging like a DoD hotel or something else.
It’s still a great place to visit. Hotels can be found for a discount.
I’m out for a little while. I head to PA tomorrow. I hope everyone has good holidays, Merry Christmas, Saturnalia, Festivus, whatever it is you celebrate.
Godspeed! Merry Christmas!
So the neighborhood parade is a couple blocks away. It looks like this. we’re going to be out side drinking in the street. Whoo-hoo.
Dead silent here in Brooklyn. Even the drag racers are conspicuously absent.
Fun times! Merry Christmas!
The wife and I used to drive through the light display in Griffith Park. We’d listen to K-Earth and make out when the traffic stopped.
THere’s a famous display of house lights in the next neighborhood over (Dyker Heights) I’ve been meaning to check out for years. Too lazy.
Don’t be lazy. Find some dude at the bar around the corner (lower your standards), and walk over to the lights.
Make out occasionally.
Merry Christmas, Rhy!
Ha I’m not much of a bar person any more. When I hit a bar it’s usually with friends in some other, hipper, neighborhood.
You too!
So I worked all day and texted the wife I was starting the drive home. Our neighbors brought us Chanukah gifts the other night including someth for our dog. She was supposed to pick up gifts today. She didn’t get anything for their dog so could I get something on my way home?
You know you’re short on options when Walmart and Kohl’s are closed. I discovered Ross dress for less (can’t tell if the last 3 words are part of their name) has a small pet section. Man, the people in their with me were a motley crew.
Dood. 7-11 sells microwave popcorn and beef jerky. Best dog gift in the world if your dog is like mine was.
It is Ross Dress For Less. I really need to start a blog. I wanted to start documenting every Ross store I visited.
I have probably been to more Ross stores than anybody. I travel for work, and I go to every store within a 30 minute drive of my work location.
Merry Christmas!
There was a Ross in the shopping plaza near me when I lived in SF. And an electronics store (“Good Guys”?) where we stole a shopping cart and it rolled down Post Street after we got the TV home.
I am somehow already in trouble. I handed the girlfriend a pack of chocolate truffles to take over to her grandmother’s house for Hanukkah. From what I’ve heard, one truffle was dropped, and the yappy dog ate it. If this gets blamed on me, I may be ranting tomorrow.
I’ll give you a Get Out of Jail Free card because that is grade A derp. Not your fault. Let them know you are calling your Jewish lawyer friend if you get any grief.
A. Just call it ‘Ross’
B. When you have anything in the name that suggests lesser-priced items (or, Bentonville, AR), you kinda got to expect “motley”
C. Be sure to tell Mojeaux
I was thinking C right after I posted.
Merry glibmas, you beaufiful bunch.
Colonial period baby, needs musket. http://imgur.com/gallery/0omY2JZ
Merry Christmas!
Thanks, Timeloose! I really enjoyed your series.
Merry Christmas to all of you!
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kick-Ass Kwanzaa, Radical Ramadan, Super Solstice, and happy holidays to all of you bastards.
Little late for Ramadan.
You too, you son of a bitch!
Liked your tree story. It caused me to remember one of my own regarding Christmas trees and knives. A couple of us (age14-15 or so) used to hang around the local freight house, smoke a cigarette, watch the local train and hop rides or beg for a caboose or engine ride. Anyway, along about Thanksgiving, the daily freight would start dropping Canadian National boxcars on the team track. Loaded with Christmas trees. Soon the local sellers would arrive to unload their consignments. Dude pulls up in two stake trucks, and offers us each $20 to unload his boxcar.
We do it in record time, getting covered with pine tar and needles. Dude says the money is in the truck, gets in, guns the engine, peals out and leaves us empty handed. Well, we are friendly with the freight agent and he tells us the consignee’s address. Go over next day to his lot in the next town over and Dude says he never saw us before in his life, get lost. Somehow, a few nights later, when he and his helpers are busy selling trees to customers, someone(s) slit all the tires on his two trucks. As they say, paybacks are a bitch. Hope all you Glibs have a Merry Merry.
I love a happy ending.
What a piece of shit. Hope those tires cost him more than what he promised to pay yous guys.
I’m linking this report simply to give credit to the photographer, Phil Fong.
Let’s hear it for Phil–Phil Fong.
China is asshole.
Per. Fect.
In fact, I would love it if that were Phil Fong. Or, maybe, his brother.
Frank.
Merry Christmas! (to those of you in the only time zone that really matters)
By that metric, you’re a bit early, yo.
Nope, ten minutes late on my OP.
ECers–always with the late.
/smdh
Always with the wonderful climate*
Florida men, untie!
Bikini tops? Damn right!
Lol
So say we all.
I really love this series. My thoughts on NYC:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54WfB6W3nQU
LOL
I am always glad to see Mike getting work.
/Not kidding…very much
12 days of Christmas, eh!
http://imgur.com/gallery/bA5tGM8
Like a boss, i got my parental duties done.
Goodnight fellow glibs, and to all glibs a goodnight.
Linky no worky. : (
Or did you not want to spoil the surprise?
Merry Christmas!
I was gonna go the ‘womp womp’ route, but, then, I thought it might have just been me.
Workin’, Diggy? If so, I wish you a Silent Night.
Yes.
And, thank you!
Merry, Messy
KweznuzChristmasDo you have tomorrow off?
Yep–through Sat.
OKC, here I come (eww).
Is that where wifey is from?
Pretty much…I think. It’s where in-laws are. I enjoy time there with them, but, it’s not exactly “fun”, and, I am the outsider, by default.
That said…well, best not to get into what irks me most.
/Dammit I cleared out my original response
After 11-12 years of having holiday time off during the actual holiday days, I’m now back to negotiating my holidays off. However, I did manage to set it up this year so that I have 3 or 4-day weekends through January, which is nice.
Nice. Enjoy those long weekends.
I hope you’re a better engineer than you are a linker, Lach.
Stop teasing him.
It was brave to post a dick pic on Christmas.
#YuleLog
Now I’m jealous.
Speaking of logs and greetings…https://66.media.tumblr.com/eaabe725fca87418e8780013b072d8dd/tumblr_oopm16IILu1qfeaoyo1_250.gifv
Christmas Vacation
You seem to be having video fun. No, not that kind….
I found one on topic!
Really fucking cool, actually.
Would have never imagined using helicopters. pretty neat.
Yessss. Merry Christmas, Tundra. All the best to you and your family.
Thank you my friend! Merry Christmas and a spectacular new year to you and yours!
News: Santa is not breaking the law regarding at least one government agency.
TRIGGER WARNING: The merry (pun intended) attitude of the writer towards the inspections and paperwork so that Santa’s visit meets APHIS requirements. This is just APHIS and not the rest of the no-longer-federal US government, any state and local government laws and regulations, or THE REST OF THE WORLD.
americanmilitarynews.com/2019/12/usda-grants-santa-claus-a-movement-permit-in-us/
I’m guessing that Santa will be detained over Chinese airspace and will experience imprisonment and eventually have his organs harvested.
That’s depressing. This isn’t:
After 90 Years, the ‘Flying Santa’ Is Still Dropping Gifts From a Plane
By Jove, I think we’ve found an honest-to-goodness ‘cargo cult’!
Santa Claus was specifically included in the People ‘s Republic of China’s enforcement (crackdown) last year of their ban on Christmas. Two examples:
https://www.theepochtimes.com/chinese-city-cuts-down-christmas_2743547.html
https://www.scmp.com/news/china/society/article/2178532/santa-claus-wont-be-coming-town-chinese-officials-ban-christmas
Geezus H. Another government agency has to get in on this Santa bullshit. The NORAD Santa tracker and updates was just the tip. Everyone creating that bullshit should be fired.
Isn’t that the way statists usually operate? With that song-and-dance?
Followed by
good and hard
That’s that really shitty definition of “good”….the STEVE SMITH version, if you will.
It’s the most Alvistide time of the year!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSxQ5eZCKgo
Wherein Elad gives us goyim some ed-jew-cation on Hanukkah (Chanukah, to be inclusive).
Well… you do have a lot to learn.
Yukon Cornelius licks his pick.
egould sips his bourbon.
Euphemism?
So, you read it correctly, then?
*sssssip*
back at ya borther
There’s more to the story (of course).
Whoa.
Thigh Master from Australia new album good song https://youtu.be/314dmGkmxj8
Oh, I like that.
This came on next.
Sweet.
Euphemism for what?
I haven’t figured that out yet.
When you have your Eureka moment, be sure to let us know, will ya?
😉
Merry Christmas! You and hubby have safe travels?
I traversed that set of interstate highways alot back in the day. Boring as fuck. Thank god for booze. And a straight edge dude who would drive.
Destination achieved! The interchange right across the Mississippi is now a two-lane pinball chute instead of a one-lane pinball chute, so easy-peasy! Thanks for asking!
Heh…you saved it with that addendum.
Of course, you’re here now, but, just thinking of the possibilities is rather disheartening.
Happy all that stuff that Neph mentioned.
Yeah, well that straight edge dude performed his first tattoo on my chest. Results; not so good.
I was at his place, in Bloomington IN circa April 1989. UPS dropped off his first tattoo kit. He sterilized all the gear, I got wasted. Then I agreed to get a tattoo.
Got my cat’s name on a banner spread across a flaming heart on my chest. Very classy. Awful art. Terrible tattoo. But, whatever. I was drinking. Been drinking.
Please tell us your cat’s name was “Mr. Fluffer” or “Mrs. Prissy Pants” or something like that.
Lolita
Well, congratulations.
That’s going in a book.
Both of these things are excellent.
Pics or it didn’t happen.
Do we really need a Glibs gallery of bad tattoos? Because that can go either really dark, or really hilarious.
Tried posting to Twitter, but it’s not happening.
Nice uniforms. I need testosterone replacement therapy after watching that.
Gotta admit–I like that ombre look on the Utah uniforms.
Then again, I’m a tie-dye guy.
What is that color as the court lines? Mauve or fuchsia?
Damn….you right, straff! I was tripping on the ombre stuff, and didn’t notice.
Mauve….NO, fuchsia!
:gets thrown over the Bridge of Death::
Both court colors are on the uniforms too.
Merry Christmas ? Glibs. Great finale to the story Time. Watching Die Hard as the wife gets the final prep done for Xmas morning. This place is brilliant.
Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis
Ah yes the “Die Hard” of Christmas songs.
Tom Waits. I don’t get it. His vocal stylings irritate me. Never a fan of Lou Reed, either. Guess I should just shred my Glib card…
I do have some bad news about Lou Reed….
Festus, move over so I can sit by you and we can point and mock all the other silly Glibs.
Can I sit with you two. I can’t stand Tom Waits. I admit I like some Velvet Underground and Lou Reed. His voice is terrible but some of his lyrics and music are great.
I like (and know of) Tom as an actor…Book of Eli and Mystery Men. THAT Tom, I pretty much like.
The music side, I can do without. So, make room for Diggy.
Make a hole people. Digby coming through.
https://youtu.be/_s5HLGChEOA
Yes, feed my cold black contrarian heart. Nothing makes me like the great Waits music more than knowing other people don’t.
He was great in Altman’s best film, Short Cuts. I love that flick!
Tom Waits was Renfield in Coppola’s Dracula. I liked him then.
He can act. So can Kevin Bacon. I don’t want to hear either of them sing.
Y’all are crazy-talkin’. Please to enjoy the best musical product of 1993 The Black Rider – Tom Waites and William s. Burroughs SING!
I see you’re using a very loose definition of “sing”.
Of course! It’s a Tom Waites joint.
A Tom Waites/Spike Lee Joint
Oh, there’s a nightmare for Christmas…
Waites could totally rock the soundtrack to a Spike Lee period piece set in Mississippi Delta.
Fun Fact – I’ve worked on Lee shoots before; he is generally nice but has a couple quirks that kept me from taking his jobs. He tried to micromanage my leftovers. At the end of the day I (Craft Services) often have a lot of food. I try to give it all away at wrap – sending grips home with loaves of bread, camera loaders with 1/2 full jars of peanut butter, etc.. Lee wanted all of that to go to specific neighborhood organizations with which he had relationships. The problem is that the City of New York micromanages the donation of foodstuffs even more than Hollywood directors and NYC has the force of statute law and armed agents behind them. I can not donate left-overs to food banks/charities because city reasons (I think it has something to do with salt content or chain-of-custody).
Also, Lee levies a fine of $20 on anyone who has a phone audibly ring. More often than not, that mistake is made by an entry level Production Assistant. A PA is making $125 for a 12 hour day (and being worked like rented mules); $20 is lot for a new college grad, living in NYC who makes $125 per day.
Excellent articles, Timeloose. Reminds me of adventures in a different city when young Festus was cut loose with wads of cash. I would have been doing speed and chasing punk-rock chix, though. A month and done every five years or so seemed to be the scope of my dip into the big smoke. I’m just to wedded to my home to ever deal with that shit forever. Merry X-mas!
Merry Christmas to all, and to all nighty night!
Merry Christmas, GT!
Merry Ho Ho, GT! A bow-topped Lexus in every driveway and an AR 15 in every gun safe to the rest of you.
Merry fucking Christmas!
Merry Christmas, GT!
Father Sgt. Christmas Card
I just cannot get into GBV. They are one of those bands that people I somewhat trust like, but, have never clicked with me. It’s a big enough enigma to me that I feel the need to comment on the fact, if that tells you anything.
That’s what I love about music. They are my favorite band (possibly tied with the ‘Mats) but a lot of my music pals either hate them or are ambivalent.
It’s what makes the world go ’round!
This is what makes Digby’s world go ’round.
https://youtu.be/0u8teXR8VE4
Yep. Owned that record. A birthday gift from my buddies, along with a nice little pipe.
The ’80s were a fun time.
Oh, you are a frikkin’ boss, my man!
Both of you–but, that was intended for Chafed.
? ?
? I knew it. Merry Christmas my rock n roll goy brother.
Uncle Miltie!
Tundra turned me onto them.
GBV were always hovering around in the margins.
They produce so much music; understand that you can be selective.
Some of it sucks. Some of it is sublime. I mean, enjoy the good stuff.
They have some great tunes but it’s like separating the wheat from the chaff. Some folks are fanbois to the extreme. Like Rush fans *covers up Hemispheres faux concert tee*
They have some great tunes
Sure, put out seven hundred and thirty six albums and you’ll have a good song or two as well.
*Hugs a squirming The Hype and lands a big, slobbery kiss on his temple*
The Vandals do Christmas the right way.
Genius.
Baby Jesus approved.
Answering the Pope’s question on how to evangelize in modern times.
Blessing or curse? You decide.
https://youtu.be/NDU4Z_BBkTA
Curse. I’ve heard about as much “Fuck You, Dad!” as I’m ever going to take. My elder brother still listens to and plays angry young man music and I’d wager his pubes turned grey a decade ago.
I think you and I are the same age Festus. Angry young man music gets my motor running. FYI, plenty of gray hair up top but none south of the border.
Go on….
?? ?
Save it for the saooonah, you two!
He was addressing you….
Welcome to the triangle.
“Let us touch our swords lightly together!”
I’ve been loving the tree series. Such great stuff.
So, since 1990, where I found myself in a Mexican bar on Christmas eve, bemoaning a bad relationship, I have a tradition of listening to the Pogues while doing shots of tequila and wondering about my life choices. It’s the thing that keeps me almost sane.
It also leads to maudlin thoughts about what makes me happy.
You assholes do.
Fuck. You people, every fucking day, keep me grounded.
Merry Christmas, you magnificent bastards and bitches of sanity.
So here’s my Christmas song.
Anyways, to any Glibs reading this….I love you all. Have an amazing day. Have love. Have joy.
And fuck all of you, or something.
Fuck you too, Here, have a hug. {gbob}
Mo!! I figured you was done gone for the night.
Merry Christmas to you ‘n’ yours
Not yet. Just got done playing Santa, noshing on Christmas Eve food, waiting for the Tylenol PM to kick in.
One word: Cyclobenzaprine. Muscle relaxer Rx’d by my doc. It doesn’t necessarily put me to sleep. But, when I do sleep, it helps me sleep very soundly.
That said, go with what works.
Noshing? Look who secretly lights a menorah.
Trust me: Us goyim do nosh. Even ’round these here parts.
When I was a kid, I took piano lessons. We had a Reader’s Digest songbook that had “Bei Mir Bistu Shein” in it. There was a note about something something Yiddish.
I asked my mom where Yiddia was.
Don’t keep me in suspense. What did she say?
She couldn’t say anything. She was laughing too hard.
That’s great. Good night Moj. Sweet dreams of Nikki Sixx.
Aww. Fuck you too. I’m going to hug you back. Fuck you. Eat a rat,
Don’t tell us what to do!
YOU’RE NOT MY PARENTAL UNIT!!
*Stomps up into the aether and starts playing really loud K-Pop*
*hands Festus a Sex Pistols album, giggles*
So this is the afterlife where we have to re-live our experiences?
I was under the impression that on this site site there would be no hugging and no lessons.
You don’t have to participate. Many people prefer to just watch at first.
We really need Rasilio and Creosote Achilles to chime in.
Nope. Not only hugging you, but hugging you you so hard you can feel my erection pressing into you. #metoo.
Sounds lucrative! #Hot18withstarsinhereyes
I see the gbob has been to the Biden School of Social Etiquette.
Corn Pops taught me how to love.
Stage fright pheromones are better than all that blue-pilled malarkey in the world! Combined! *Sniiiiiifffff* Now Corn-Pop, he was a hard dude…
I heard he was into whips and chains…something like that.
Razor strops and chain-mail at the last telling. Eight feet tall if he were an inch. With a shock o’ red hair…
I just watched Rise of Skywalker (don’t worry, I didn’t pay to see it) after watching many spoiler reviews, including RLM’s Half in the Bag. And it made me feel like a contrarian. I was deep into hate within the first two minutes of The Force Awakens, while others had hope. That was the last time I paid to watch anything Star Wars, but at that point everyone hemmed and hawed, this was good that was bad. Now everyone is ripping Rise of Skywalker, and maybe it’s because I knew all the stupid aspects going in and was drunk…But I think The Rise of Skywalker was the best of all the movies Disney has done. It’s damning with faint praise, but still it seems counter to other hot takes. Just saying.
I’ll have to take your word for it. I watched the fucking ewok adventure and swore I would never give George Lucas another penny. Somehow I got suckered into seeing the JarJar Binks fiasco. That’s when I quit the franchise cold turkey. Fuck them with a rusty spoon. I will never get that time back.
Well, the Ewok movies have an interesting back story, Joe Johnston (The Rocketeer) was given the helm, and it was pretty much used as training for him to work out new techniques for Lucas’ next thing (Willow).
Fuck. Him. I don’t want to pay for his experiment. Shitty movie.
The entire franchise acts like that slutty, provocative girl that you brought home after the bars closed. That first ride was great but the next thing you know there’s another toothbrush in the cabinet and someone is asking you if their ass looks fat in these jeans.
I can’t consider it better than Rogue One–I think Edwards did a damned fine job the the production values in making it seem like a legit ‘modern throw-back SW’…whatever all that means.
Yeah, I am aware of the troubled production. And, the character development issues… Anyway, I enjoyed ROS in spite of itself. Interesting to see your enjoyment of it.
I didn’t say enjoyment, I said the best of the Disney Star Wars.
Point taken
Didn’t read the article nor any comments above, but wanted to pop in and wish all a very merry Christmas. You guys are literally the best.
That’s the Glibmas spirit.
You don’t know that, really… I mean, if you didn’t read our comments. Someone might have said “DenverJ is lower than a French Pedo”, or, something equally crappy.
/a very messy Christmas to you
“DenverJ is lower than a French Pedo” Oh stop, you’re making me blush.
Only tangentially related…
You don’t have to do anything when you’re first.
There are a lot of athletes who may disagree with you on that.
Oh, thanks, I forgot.
Merry Xmas every xer!
Are you othering me?? I feel othered…
That’s the human condition https://youtu.be/DTVXFh8TX68
It appears that Winston’s Mom has been visiting Scotland.
^ This is why I still miss my waterbed and rock the porn-stache.
A visit from Winston’s Mom?
Those memories are filed away.
I sense a Pulitzer in your future…
Alanis Morrisette-ironically, ZWS is itself a waste.
Too bad the industry isn’t going to… *dons sunglasses* … go to the mattresses.
I think I may have made a mistake adding Stroh to the eggnog. Will know more in the morning.
You added beer?
I mean, I have had a beer milkshake, so I guess it could work…
No.. this stuff
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/1c/Stroh_-_Austrian_Rum_-_IMG_3452.jpg/1280px-Stroh_-_Austrian_Rum_-_IMG_3452.jpg
That strength too.
I just don’t think of Austria when rum is mentioned…
Yeah, it started off as the mock apple pie of rum.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stroh
A. That is a fantastic descriptor for may things, Gustave. Consider it stolen…then, probably forgotten.
B. I actually kinda want to try that original Inlander recipe. Kinda.
The Czech version apparently still is. EU busybodies forced them to remove rum off the label since it’s not made from sugarcane.
Oh, thank you, magnificent EU overlords, for protecting us from having to parse words on our own!
How could the world ever survive without your meddling??
That was what I figured–I jut wanted a reason to mention that I once had a beer milkshake.
:)~
My friend’s dad when I was little swore by wine milkshakes. He also taught us the lesson of “Don’t push!” when you are taking a crap. I don’t aver that wine milkshakes are any good but his advice regarding BM’s is pretty solid.
I see what you did there….
Also, while I know it’s sage advice, I can’t help but think that, sometimes, the tract can use a helping ha-No, that’s not quite right…
Let’s just say that, sometimes, you gotta start eviction procedures.
I can’t say that wine milkshakes interest me, but that Rolling Rock milkshake wasn’t so bad. My bestie is a bartender, and he was willing to make it, provided I drank it. This was a rather long time ago, though.
The morning is a harsh mistress.
First! And merry merry Christmas. I hope that the new year finds all of you healthy and happy.
I will still need you, and, I may still feed you, now that you’re 64.
Fuck off, Tulpa! I need them socks to drive!
Hell, I need the socks to make friends…
Just us again, Diggy. You sit on my hand and I’ll sit on your’n. That way it ain’t gay! Merry Christmas!
I think straff found a depiction of your offer. ↓↓
Merry Christmas!
Even if you aren’t a movie nostalgia fan, I say give it up for the fan who did something pretty special for a classic.
Ho! Ho! Go!
No! No! No!
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EMnaDrQXYAAfIyy?format=jpg&name=360×360
It’s a love for the ages.
Sweet. Hallmark card cover material.
It kinda is.
Well, either that, or, screen cap from one of their holiday movies.
I… I love you guys!
For anyone who enjoys this sort of thing: Hot Wheels restorations.
The guy seems to be self-taught, and, while not necessarily museum quality, he does a helluva lot better than I ever could. Check out his channel, for a trip down memory lane.
Case in point: Shaggin’ Wagon
Can you restore this? https://youtu.be/70KVvC4LzFU
Silly–that doesn’t require restoration!!
I’m done like dinner. Have some xmas cheer https://youtu.be/MnJGfl3afEU
Is there some criteria other than color you’re supposed to use when selecting books for your library?
Height? Gotta maintain those smooth lines on the bookshelf.
Merry Christmas to everyone.
I’m currently “pondering” the large amount of authentic Szechuan food I ate last night. The kids might see me something before noon.
It was excellent but holy hell was it spicy.
Nice story; the kind that makes you both love and hate people.