HEADING FOR SUMMER… and whatever it brings (Part 160c)
After a
tumultuous day I was looking forward to going to the garage to work on
the race car. It was my feeling that things there would be relatively
quiet. I was wrong! The hauler and car were just as Cliffy had left them
upon return from the races early Sunday morning. All the guys were
there except for Joe. Cliffy was sitting on the hauler bed and the look
on his face was more serious than usual. His greeting to me was to ask
if I’d brought my $25. I hadn’t but I didn’t know I was supposed to
bring it before heading for the track. We’ve all heard the term “buyer’s
remorse”. It was obvious (to me, at least) that Cliffy had it. It was
his position that he wanted to see a definite monetary commitment from
the others before we opened the crate that held the new rear end. Once
we cut the metal straps it belonged to us. Needless to say, a discussion
ensued.
Basically, to continue racing we needed the rear end…
but we didn’t have the money. He told us we had a little over $340 in
cash and we’d each pledged $25 making a total of $465. He told us he’d
called “Pee Wee” and the cost, including a couple of sets of gears, was
$480. The problem was that if we paid “Pee Wee” in full (which he wanted
to do) we didn’t have money for tires. We could get by for one week
with the tires on the car but that would be it. Listening to him it
became clear that we’d not thought the ownership of a race car through.
We’d been somewhat blinded by the fact that we could buy a race car
worth approximately $3,000 for only $1,000… and not carried it forward
to figure out how we were going to keep it running.
It was dark
by the time we’d (reluctantly) decided to not open the crate. We all
wanted to race but Cliffy said he wouldn’t/couldn’t be the one to fund
it. It would be up to us to come up with money to continue. Until we
did, the hauler, race car and rear end would remain parked. Knowing how
‘tight’ things were for all of the others I left thinking that was the
end of my NASCAR racing.
Those negative feelings on top of the
‘Jerry situation’ at work meant a restless night for sleeping. I didn’t
have any idea what the meeting with Hobie and Jerry would bring forth.
I’d called the restaurant where Jerry held the interviews but was unable
to reach anyone who knew anything about it but had left a message. That
meant I had nothing to report during the meeting and I worried about
that. The other thing on my mind was the now missing Xerox photo copier.
I felt at least I could make a call on that subject before the meeting
and get an answer. I did… and I didn’t like it. Kelcy, the Xerox sales
rep, in her hurry to get to her next appointment, had written the wrong
town on the order form. I’d not looked at that when perusing the
contract so, in essence, it was my fault. I was told our machine would
arrive no later than Friday… too late for the mortgage committee
meeting. I was getting the feeling that if I had my fingers in it
nothing good would come of it.
When Hobie arrived he led Jerry
and I up the back stairs to the Board room. I’d thought it was to be
just the three of us but there were a number of Board members waiting
for us. In making my calls about the Xerox machine I’d missed their
arrival(s). I knew them by name but little about their backgrounds. Bert
(the president) was there and he introduced the vice chairman who was
filling in for the ailing Board chairman. It was obvious that this was
more than just a casual meeting to sort things out.
The meeting
lasted about three quarters of an hour. When we all walked out it was
understood that Jerry was to clear any actions he was undertaking for
the bank through me and, in my absence, Hobie. If neither of us were
available he was to take no action. The woman Jerry had hired as his
assistant would be subject to confirmation by the branch committee after
meeting her the following day. Nothing was mentioned about salary and I
wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. Going down the back stairs I
felt somewhat vindicated in my assessment of Jerry but still wondered
who it was that had been ‘guiding’ him. From that time on he was, as
Hobie had put it the day before, “on a short leash” and I held the other
end of it.
As good as I felt about that I was greeted with the
news that four service people from Northern Telecom were there to start
installation of our new equipment. I could only shake my head wondering
if there was any company, at all, who could get their ‘act’ straight.
Having them there without giving the employees warning just made things
more difficult and made me look bad. I immediately called Norman, the
sales rep, to ask what had changed since our conversation the previous
day. He didn’t have any idea that the men were there. He told me he had
the orders in his hand and they weren’t supposed to start until
Thursday. He told me he could pull them back but I said it was OK to
stay. At least the people who were complaining about the old PBX board
would be happy.
As I put the handset back in the cradle I saw
Trish waving her hand with her handset in it. I immediately picked up my
phone and heard the words “Red shoes!”. I had no idea who it was or the
meaning of those words. I could write a whole post on this subject (but
I won’t). It was the owner of the restaurant where Jerry held his
interviews. He identified himself and asked how my parents were doing.
That was the trigger. Some 20 years earlier my parents had met and been
befriended by the man. I was about 10 years old but my interest in race
horses was just beginning at that time. My father mentioned it to the
man and he promptly handed me a racing sheet and told me to pick him out
a winning horse. I picked one called Red Shoes. It didn’t mean all that
much to me but what had happened was he went ahead and bet it… and it
won. From that time on anytime we stopped at the restaurant I was
greeted by hearing about “Red Shoes”. In any case, he’d seen the message
from me and since I have the same name as my father, he recognized it
and made the call himself rather than giving it to an underling.
Someone, seeing the sheaf of papers, had taken them to the office and
was going to mail them back… until the owner saw the note on them and my
name. It was good to talk to the man and to reminisce. But most
important was to know he had the applications and that we’d be getting
them back in a few days. It gave me hope that things were beginning to
turn around for the better.
To be continued…
Friday, June 30, 2017
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
HEADING FOR SUMMER... and whatever it brings (Part 160b)
HEADING FOR SUMMER… and whatever it brings (Part 160b)
Even though there were a host of things on my 'platter’ for Monday, my main focus was on Jerry and the interviews for the branch jobs. Of course, he was late getting to work. I was trying to be positive when I approached his desk and asked to see the applications. He hesitated and handed me what turned out to be five of them. I asked where the rest of them were and he said he’d thrown them away. That did it for me. I can not deny that I just about exploded when I heard that. I can still hear myself yelling “YOU DID WHAT ?????” He hesitated for a second or two and repeated his statement that he’d thrown them away. My yelling continued when I asked why he’d done that and that they were to be a resource for when he might have to replace someone. My memory says he just gave me a blank stare.
There was more animated verbiage from me before I asked about the ones he handed me. I stood there kind of perusing them when he told me that these were the people he’d hired. I’m sure I used the same words again… “YOU DID WHAT ????” But this time he quite calmly stated that he’d hired them. I honestly didn’t know what to say or do… so I just stood there for a bit. I was about to ask who had given him the OK to actually hire them when he added that one of them was going to be his assistant branch manager. That announcement had me absolutely speechless.
My problem was that even though the organizational chart showed he reported to me it had been my thought for some time that he was getting direction from the Board's branch committee or some one person on the Board. I'd spoken to Hobie about it and was told to “let it lie”. However, when the ad for hiring the tellers was created it was Hobie who signed off on it. There was nothing in the ad about an assistant branch manager. In fact, the bank didn’t even have a job description for that position. I knew because I’d written the job descriptions for all non officer positions. I remember standing there looking down at him and wanting to call him all kinds of names but the bank was open to the public and, worse, there was someone at Bret’s desk which was right behind us.
I had seen Hobie at his desk when I had been behind the teller line a bit earlier so I told Jerry to follow me as I headed in that direction. The only thing was… he didn’t follow me. I kept on going and walked right up to the front of Hobie’s desk and threw the applications on it. I don’t think I’d been that mad since starting at the bank so Hobie had never seen this side of me before. The words were coming out of my mouth like bullets. It took less than a minute for Hobie to stand up and tell me to “shut up”. That got me back to a semblance of reality. He, obviously, knew my tirade was about Jerry. He picked up his phone and got Trish to bring him over. When I saw him walk into the area his demeanor had changed completely. He was wringing his hands much like you would expect someone who had done something wrong would do. To me, he looked pathetic and anything but someone who could be trusted with authority.
I wish I could write that Hobie reamed him a new a_s h__e… but he didn’t. The three of us were in discussion until the noon siren went off. Jerry came up with all kinds of mealy mouthed excuses of how he’d “misunderstood” the directions on just what he was to do during the interviews. The whole time he was talking I sat there with my blood pressure about as high as it had ever been. I’d pleaded with Hobie to let me be a part of the interviewing process and I’d been turned down. In my mind, the fault lay upon him. The big problem for the bank was in Jerry making a commitment for a position that hadn’t yet been created… the assistant branch manager. Not only wasn’t there a job description but there was no approved salary and that had to come from the Board.
Hobie took the lead on that and said he’d contact the lady and go over the situation with her. I volunteered to contact the restaurant where Jerry had held the interviews to see if, by any small chance, they could locate the trashed applications. Jerry was able to walk away with just a small reprimand. There was a lot I wanted to say to Hobie but fate intervened and Stan, from the brokerage office, walked in the front door and saw me. He’d given me materials to read and to use to make a decision on what to invest the money from my corporate bond that had just come due. I’d read the materials and made a list of questions about my choice but the morning had been so chaotic that I’d forgotten about getting back to him. We walked back to my desk and pulled out the questions. It only took a few minutes but by the time Stan left with my decision Hobie had gone to lunch. I was still very upset at the time but have looked back on the situation over the years and was thankful that Stan had appeared just at that time. (As an aside, my stock selection that day turned out to be a fantastic success.)
I continued to calm down by getting something to eat at the diner on Main Street. I seldom ever went there but I knew it would be quicker than the luncheonette across the street. Walking in the door I saw Jay, my old working friend from when I worked in data processing for the County. When I saw him I felt sort of embarrassed because I’d neglected to let him know I was now a partner in a top level stock car. He’d been a major part of my getting back into racing when we worked together and I was at a loss as to how to tell him about it. Walking up to him I had a feeling that June wasn’t going to be any better than May had been.
To be continued...
Even though there were a host of things on my 'platter’ for Monday, my main focus was on Jerry and the interviews for the branch jobs. Of course, he was late getting to work. I was trying to be positive when I approached his desk and asked to see the applications. He hesitated and handed me what turned out to be five of them. I asked where the rest of them were and he said he’d thrown them away. That did it for me. I can not deny that I just about exploded when I heard that. I can still hear myself yelling “YOU DID WHAT ?????” He hesitated for a second or two and repeated his statement that he’d thrown them away. My yelling continued when I asked why he’d done that and that they were to be a resource for when he might have to replace someone. My memory says he just gave me a blank stare.
There was more animated verbiage from me before I asked about the ones he handed me. I stood there kind of perusing them when he told me that these were the people he’d hired. I’m sure I used the same words again… “YOU DID WHAT ????” But this time he quite calmly stated that he’d hired them. I honestly didn’t know what to say or do… so I just stood there for a bit. I was about to ask who had given him the OK to actually hire them when he added that one of them was going to be his assistant branch manager. That announcement had me absolutely speechless.
My problem was that even though the organizational chart showed he reported to me it had been my thought for some time that he was getting direction from the Board's branch committee or some one person on the Board. I'd spoken to Hobie about it and was told to “let it lie”. However, when the ad for hiring the tellers was created it was Hobie who signed off on it. There was nothing in the ad about an assistant branch manager. In fact, the bank didn’t even have a job description for that position. I knew because I’d written the job descriptions for all non officer positions. I remember standing there looking down at him and wanting to call him all kinds of names but the bank was open to the public and, worse, there was someone at Bret’s desk which was right behind us.
I had seen Hobie at his desk when I had been behind the teller line a bit earlier so I told Jerry to follow me as I headed in that direction. The only thing was… he didn’t follow me. I kept on going and walked right up to the front of Hobie’s desk and threw the applications on it. I don’t think I’d been that mad since starting at the bank so Hobie had never seen this side of me before. The words were coming out of my mouth like bullets. It took less than a minute for Hobie to stand up and tell me to “shut up”. That got me back to a semblance of reality. He, obviously, knew my tirade was about Jerry. He picked up his phone and got Trish to bring him over. When I saw him walk into the area his demeanor had changed completely. He was wringing his hands much like you would expect someone who had done something wrong would do. To me, he looked pathetic and anything but someone who could be trusted with authority.
I wish I could write that Hobie reamed him a new a_s h__e… but he didn’t. The three of us were in discussion until the noon siren went off. Jerry came up with all kinds of mealy mouthed excuses of how he’d “misunderstood” the directions on just what he was to do during the interviews. The whole time he was talking I sat there with my blood pressure about as high as it had ever been. I’d pleaded with Hobie to let me be a part of the interviewing process and I’d been turned down. In my mind, the fault lay upon him. The big problem for the bank was in Jerry making a commitment for a position that hadn’t yet been created… the assistant branch manager. Not only wasn’t there a job description but there was no approved salary and that had to come from the Board.
Hobie took the lead on that and said he’d contact the lady and go over the situation with her. I volunteered to contact the restaurant where Jerry had held the interviews to see if, by any small chance, they could locate the trashed applications. Jerry was able to walk away with just a small reprimand. There was a lot I wanted to say to Hobie but fate intervened and Stan, from the brokerage office, walked in the front door and saw me. He’d given me materials to read and to use to make a decision on what to invest the money from my corporate bond that had just come due. I’d read the materials and made a list of questions about my choice but the morning had been so chaotic that I’d forgotten about getting back to him. We walked back to my desk and pulled out the questions. It only took a few minutes but by the time Stan left with my decision Hobie had gone to lunch. I was still very upset at the time but have looked back on the situation over the years and was thankful that Stan had appeared just at that time. (As an aside, my stock selection that day turned out to be a fantastic success.)
I continued to calm down by getting something to eat at the diner on Main Street. I seldom ever went there but I knew it would be quicker than the luncheonette across the street. Walking in the door I saw Jay, my old working friend from when I worked in data processing for the County. When I saw him I felt sort of embarrassed because I’d neglected to let him know I was now a partner in a top level stock car. He’d been a major part of my getting back into racing when we worked together and I was at a loss as to how to tell him about it. Walking up to him I had a feeling that June wasn’t going to be any better than May had been.
To be continued...
Monday, June 26, 2017
HEADING FOR SUMMER... and whatever it brings (Part 160a)
HEADING FOR SUMMER… and whatever it brings (Part 160a)
My fear of a second Monday was right on the money. It was unusually busy and, as it turned out, the worst day we’d experienced as far as ‘down-time’ with the data center was concerned. As I’ve explained, the new teller machines had the capability to capture up to a dozen transactions that would post automatically when back on-line but on this day there were far more than that. No one was sure of how to handle the situation, including me, and, of all days not to be able to get to our contact people at the data center it was this one. The best way to describe the day was to say we were putting out ‘brush fires’ all day long. I was too busy to spend any time thinking about Jerry and his interviews. The one good thing was that the day was over quickly and by the time I left for home was satisfied the data processing problem was rectified. I could only pray the month of June would be better than May was.
When it came to the race car it was the same prayer. After a great start things had taken a decided turn downwards. On the way to the track there was muted optimism among the crew. When we fired up the rebuilt engine it seemed to run OK. Cliffy told us he’d let it run for over an hour and it ran cool and without a problem. However, racing would provide the real test. I crossed my fingers, arms and legs during the qualifying race just for luck. We had no trouble qualifying and when Cliffy pulled into our space in the pits he gave a thumbs up. I don’t remember what position we started in for the main event but it didn’t matter. It was only a few laps into the race when Cliffy coasted into the infield once again. We were all looking for steam to be coming from the radiator overflow tank but couldn’t see any. Then there was a serious wreck and while it was being sorted out one of the track wrecking trucks pushed Cliffy into the pit area. I could smell burning grease and a look at the back of the car told us it was the quick change rear end. By the time the race restarted we knew, for sure, the rear end was broken and unable to be repaired. Interested in the outcome of the feature race we all went up to the pit grandstand to observe. It was the first time that C J was competitive. I think he finished in the top five. After the finish I went over to his car looking not for him but his girlfriend, Karen. It didn’t take long to see what I’d come to see… her in white pants and sporting a nice VPL. I remember wishing there was a way to find out who made the panties she was wearing but knew, realistically, there was no way I'd ever find out.
By the time I got back to the race car the rest of the crew and their wives were ready to leave. Someone mentioned that we were not headed straight home but had been invited to “Pee Wee’s” house which was on our way. With the reputation Mrs. “Pee Wee” had I wondered why. Including wives there were ten of us. Their house was not much more than a cottage and they only lived there in the Summer. With the temperature cooling off we ended up inside and it got pretty crowded. Mrs. “Pee Wee” belied the talk I’d heard about her and cooked us up a nice pasta meal. Even though we’d eaten hot dogs and hamburgers only a few hours before it tasted pretty good. She topped it off with a homemade cake. The guys weren’t ready to leave when the ladies were. Pew Wee, well into the beer, was telling about some of his racing exploits. When we made our way out to the hauler with our bellies full of food and beer we were feeling much better than we had when we left the track.
I think I was the first to see it… a wooden crate sticking out of the rear window of the race car. I remember stopping and staring at it and not having any idea what was in it. It was Alan who walked up behind me an asked where the box had come from. I just shrugged my shoulders. Dick and Cliffy were next and before I knew it they’d jumped up on the back of the hauler and were looking at the labels on the box. Cliffy called down to us that it was a brand new quick change rear. Alan and I looked at each other and we couldn’t believe it, especially me. When Dick jumped back to the ground I asked him where it had come from. He was as serious as I could remember him being. He said it was from “Pee Wee”. I had to ask why and it was his turn to shrug his shoulders… but he did say that “Pee Wee” was a dealer for them.
We gathered together, ignoring the women, to figure out what we were going to do. A new rear end cost around $500 and we didn’t have it. We marched back to the kitchen door and knocked. When “Pee Wee” answered he just waved his hand at us and told us to get on home. Cliffy tried to protest and “Pee Wee” just shut the door. There was nothing we could do but head for home, scratching our heads as we climbed into the hauler. While on our way, Cliffy couldn’t even come up with an idea why he’d do such a thing. More importantly was the concern of how to pay for it. The consensus among the five of us who made up the ownership of the car was to try and come up with at least $250 for him by the next race. We still had about $300 set aside for another set of tires and if we only bought two we’d still have $150 of it. That left it up to the five of us to come up with the additional $100 by Saturday.
To be continued…
My fear of a second Monday was right on the money. It was unusually busy and, as it turned out, the worst day we’d experienced as far as ‘down-time’ with the data center was concerned. As I’ve explained, the new teller machines had the capability to capture up to a dozen transactions that would post automatically when back on-line but on this day there were far more than that. No one was sure of how to handle the situation, including me, and, of all days not to be able to get to our contact people at the data center it was this one. The best way to describe the day was to say we were putting out ‘brush fires’ all day long. I was too busy to spend any time thinking about Jerry and his interviews. The one good thing was that the day was over quickly and by the time I left for home was satisfied the data processing problem was rectified. I could only pray the month of June would be better than May was.
When it came to the race car it was the same prayer. After a great start things had taken a decided turn downwards. On the way to the track there was muted optimism among the crew. When we fired up the rebuilt engine it seemed to run OK. Cliffy told us he’d let it run for over an hour and it ran cool and without a problem. However, racing would provide the real test. I crossed my fingers, arms and legs during the qualifying race just for luck. We had no trouble qualifying and when Cliffy pulled into our space in the pits he gave a thumbs up. I don’t remember what position we started in for the main event but it didn’t matter. It was only a few laps into the race when Cliffy coasted into the infield once again. We were all looking for steam to be coming from the radiator overflow tank but couldn’t see any. Then there was a serious wreck and while it was being sorted out one of the track wrecking trucks pushed Cliffy into the pit area. I could smell burning grease and a look at the back of the car told us it was the quick change rear end. By the time the race restarted we knew, for sure, the rear end was broken and unable to be repaired. Interested in the outcome of the feature race we all went up to the pit grandstand to observe. It was the first time that C J was competitive. I think he finished in the top five. After the finish I went over to his car looking not for him but his girlfriend, Karen. It didn’t take long to see what I’d come to see… her in white pants and sporting a nice VPL. I remember wishing there was a way to find out who made the panties she was wearing but knew, realistically, there was no way I'd ever find out.
By the time I got back to the race car the rest of the crew and their wives were ready to leave. Someone mentioned that we were not headed straight home but had been invited to “Pee Wee’s” house which was on our way. With the reputation Mrs. “Pee Wee” had I wondered why. Including wives there were ten of us. Their house was not much more than a cottage and they only lived there in the Summer. With the temperature cooling off we ended up inside and it got pretty crowded. Mrs. “Pee Wee” belied the talk I’d heard about her and cooked us up a nice pasta meal. Even though we’d eaten hot dogs and hamburgers only a few hours before it tasted pretty good. She topped it off with a homemade cake. The guys weren’t ready to leave when the ladies were. Pew Wee, well into the beer, was telling about some of his racing exploits. When we made our way out to the hauler with our bellies full of food and beer we were feeling much better than we had when we left the track.
I think I was the first to see it… a wooden crate sticking out of the rear window of the race car. I remember stopping and staring at it and not having any idea what was in it. It was Alan who walked up behind me an asked where the box had come from. I just shrugged my shoulders. Dick and Cliffy were next and before I knew it they’d jumped up on the back of the hauler and were looking at the labels on the box. Cliffy called down to us that it was a brand new quick change rear. Alan and I looked at each other and we couldn’t believe it, especially me. When Dick jumped back to the ground I asked him where it had come from. He was as serious as I could remember him being. He said it was from “Pee Wee”. I had to ask why and it was his turn to shrug his shoulders… but he did say that “Pee Wee” was a dealer for them.
We gathered together, ignoring the women, to figure out what we were going to do. A new rear end cost around $500 and we didn’t have it. We marched back to the kitchen door and knocked. When “Pee Wee” answered he just waved his hand at us and told us to get on home. Cliffy tried to protest and “Pee Wee” just shut the door. There was nothing we could do but head for home, scratching our heads as we climbed into the hauler. While on our way, Cliffy couldn’t even come up with an idea why he’d do such a thing. More importantly was the concern of how to pay for it. The consensus among the five of us who made up the ownership of the car was to try and come up with at least $250 for him by the next race. We still had about $300 set aside for another set of tires and if we only bought two we’d still have $150 of it. That left it up to the five of us to come up with the additional $100 by Saturday.
To be continued…
Saturday, June 24, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159r)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159r)
It was a perfect day for a parade… and for just about anything you wanted to do outside the house. However, I hated mid week holidays. It made for two ‘Mondays’ in the same week. Naturally, Elle had some things she wanted me to do and I had a few items of my own to fill my time alone. One of them was to trim back the hedge between us and the neighbor’s house. I hadn’t done it since the first year we moved in and boxwood grows very fast. The hedge had grown not only higher but also wider over time and felt I couldn’t clip all the way across the top from our side. Knowing that no one was home next door I decided I’d start over there. I had to run the drop cord through the hedge and when I did I couldn’t believe my eyes. On their clothes line was nothing but panties. I just stood there in disbelief. I knew the family had gone to the big parade but I wasn’t really sure if Bill, the father, had joined them so was a bit reluctant to walk back there to do a close up inspection. It took me a minute or so before I thought of the camera. I ducked back through the opening in the hedge and headed for the house. Once inside I went right to the closet where I kept the Polaroid hoping I had a number of exposures left. I knew I didn’t have any new film packs as they were on my list of things I needed to get. I pulled it down off the shelf and when I saw there were two left I was relieved. I pretty much knew I’d never have another chance like this. I wish I’d known if the father was home or not but didn’t take a chance so, with the camera in hand, I only took a few steps inside the hedge before snapping two pictures and then ducking back into my yard. I waited until I was back in the kitchen to study the results of my effort and was fairly pleased.
It was a perfect day for a parade… and for just about anything you wanted to do outside the house. However, I hated mid week holidays. It made for two ‘Mondays’ in the same week. Naturally, Elle had some things she wanted me to do and I had a few items of my own to fill my time alone. One of them was to trim back the hedge between us and the neighbor’s house. I hadn’t done it since the first year we moved in and boxwood grows very fast. The hedge had grown not only higher but also wider over time and felt I couldn’t clip all the way across the top from our side. Knowing that no one was home next door I decided I’d start over there. I had to run the drop cord through the hedge and when I did I couldn’t believe my eyes. On their clothes line was nothing but panties. I just stood there in disbelief. I knew the family had gone to the big parade but I wasn’t really sure if Bill, the father, had joined them so was a bit reluctant to walk back there to do a close up inspection. It took me a minute or so before I thought of the camera. I ducked back through the opening in the hedge and headed for the house. Once inside I went right to the closet where I kept the Polaroid hoping I had a number of exposures left. I knew I didn’t have any new film packs as they were on my list of things I needed to get. I pulled it down off the shelf and when I saw there were two left I was relieved. I pretty much knew I’d never have another chance like this. I wish I’d known if the father was home or not but didn’t take a chance so, with the camera in hand, I only took a few steps inside the hedge before snapping two pictures and then ducking back into my yard. I waited until I was back in the kitchen to study the results of my effort and was fairly pleased.
 |
| It was like in a dream... Getting to work was hard because I kept turning towards the wash line. The panties of four teen aged girls were a sight to behold. In writing this now I’m still in awe of that sight. I’ll admit I was really tempted to walk back there to look at them, up close and personal. But with Elle doing so much teaching in the school where the father was principal it wasn’t worth taking the chance. By the time I was through working on that side of the hedge I’d reconciled myself to being satisfied with just the picture. I was just finishing up when Elle arrived home. She’d been after me to do it for quite a while and complimented me on how nice it looked. She suggested that I might want to follow her inside and I had to smile as I did. I was like a moth to a flame. She’d worn slacks and as I watched her walking I tried to figure out what she’d chosen to wear. I thought she might be wearing a “package” because I couldn’t see a clear VPL. The plastic panties wouldn’t show a clear crotch line. Once inside she headed for the bathroom and as she did she unbuttoned and unzipped the slacks. At the toilet she turned around as she did the pants slid to the floor. Not only was she wearing a “package” but it was full… really full and she, more or less, invited me to get a feel. My lower region was at full attention but I was a bit concerned about where the kids were and asked. “At Ginger’s” was her reply as she guided my hand down inside the plastic panties. That’s all I needed to know. It had been quite a while for her to be so ‘forward’ and I was loving it… but I was smart enough not to ask why. It didn’t end there. As I’ve written many times before, “morning delight” was my preference but a “mid day sojourn” was also very rewarding. An analysis of the situation brought forth the notion that without the stress of the kids around Elle was still excited about sex. After, we lay in bed for a while and she ended up telling me about her morning. When we still lived in the mobile home park all we had to do to view the parade was to go to my grandfather’s house and watch from his driveway. With that option no longer available she knew she’d have to find a viewing place. I’d suggested parking at the Town Hall and walking about five minutes or so to the residential section where the parade made the turn to head back to the school grounds. The only drawback to that was there would be no public restrooms. That was why she chose to wear the “package”. She’d told Phyllis where to park and they and her brood had watched together. At the very end there was a man in a clown suit who was interacting with the crowd as he walked and had picked out our Kaye to do a trick with. When it was over he asked Elle about her and it was while talking to him that she felt herself ‘going’. She was smiling as she explained it and said she didn’t even try to stop. I had to smile myself when I heard her say she actually “got a thrill” peeing in front of him and out in public to boot. To say I got one too in hearing her say those words is putting it mildly. We had our Memorial Day picnic that evening out on the screened in porch. I’d washed all the furniture and floor so Elle thought it would be a good way to get a head start on Summer. It started to cool off as the sun began to set but, then again, it was only the end of May. It had been warmer than usual most of the month and we were ‘pushing’ it believing that Summer was really here. For me, it was the precursor for many good times to come once it really arrived. As we picked up I realized that we hadn’t given Anne the borrowed bike. I’m not exactly sure how she took it but I remember her getting on it and smiling as she rode around in circles. The next day was the ‘second Monday’ of the week and was also the last day of May. I was glad to see it come to an end. To be continued… |
Thursday, June 22, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159q)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159q)
Working in close quarters with Dick while under the car we got to chat a little about family. I mentioned Elle’s and my dilemma on getting a bicycle for Jean and what it’d do to the relationship with her sister if her sister didn’t get one as well. I remember him laughing and then telling me about his boys and precisely the same thing. He told me his wife was way more concerned than he was and he went ahead and got the older one the bike anyway. He added that the younger one got over it quickly… but added that boys are different that way. When we’d finished our part of the job we were standing next to the car and he asked if I thought it would help if he loaned me one of his kids bikes for a while. I didn’t really know if it would or wouldn’t but asked why it was available. He laughed saying his older daughter had fallen out of a tree and broken her arm in two places and severely sprained her ankle. He said it’s be some time before she was on a bike again. I didn’t know what Elle would say but stopped at Dick’s house (he lived less than a quarter mile away and on the same road) to get the bike. Of course I had to wait until morning to broach the subject with Elle but the more I thought about it the more I liked it. I thought about what Dick had said about how quickly the situation went away and decided to focus on that when I told Elle.
She clearly didn’t like the idea of a borrowed bike but couldn’t come up with an alternative. We decided to go ahead with the new bike for Jean and to take Anne aside and tell her that in a day or two we’d borrow a “big girl” for her to use hoping that she’d focus on just having one and not that it belonged to someone else. That gave me time to pick up the new bike that afternoon and to have it ready for Jean the next morning.
By the end of the workday Jerry had talked with over two dozen applicants and had selected ten for one on one interviews. I would never have conducted a preliminary interview without a completed application in front of me. I’d noticed him madly scribbling things on a yellow pad for two days and wondered how he’d decipher it all when actually viewing the person. I’d done my part and contacted the restaurant where he was to meet with them and arranged for it to take place Friday morning. Right from the beginning I had a very bad feeling about letting Jerry handle it on his own but, as I’ve written, I was told “hands off”. The one thing I did do though was to watch where he put his ‘scribblings’. Still driving to the city each day, he would leave promptly at 5pm. By 5:30pm, with most people gone, I went to his desk and found the folder. I was somewhat surprised in that there was actually some organization to it. I made a few notes of my own based on the comments he’d written in red. I wanted to see if his perception of a qualified applicant held up when he made his actual selections.
The store that sold bikes was right on my way home. Elle and I’d agreed on one thing and it was to be a ‘plain Jane’ bike and without all the fancy stuff that was coming in to vogue at the time. I do remember the manufacturer… Ross, and it had dark blue fenders and the cost was around $35. Since I had my car the box with the bike ended up sticking out of the trunk and held in by common twine. I was nervous the whole way home. I’d called Elle when I left the bank and told her it’d be about an hour and to occupy Jean away from windows facing the garage. I actually made it all the way to the driveway before the twine broke. However, I was going so slow that when the box slipped out of the trunk it didn’t hurt it. All I could hope for was that Elle had Jean on the other side of the house.
We’d given Jean absolutely no indication that we’d honor her birthday request so when she came down stairs for breakfast and saw the bike in the kitchen she started to cry. I, myself, had no idea it was so important to her. Anne, on the other hand, just stood and glared at the bike. I’m not sure she said any words at all before leaving for school. We’d decided it was too hard to have a party with friends on a school day so for Jean it was only family… Elle’s and my parents. Elle’s mother didn’t believe in multiple gifts for birthdays so only had one for Jean. On the other hand, my mother went overboard but did one thing to help alleviate the tension between the two girls… she had presents for Anne as well. My mother was all in for clothes… which was OK by Elle and I. Each of the girls had developed an interest there as well so other than Elle’s mother feeling a bit ‘outdone’ by my mother and her multiple gifts, the evening went well. Anne, with new clothes, had forgotten the bike thing and that gave us time to present the borrowed bike to her at a later date and under better circumstances.
The following day was Memorial Day and, as I mentioned, I was helping to stage the local parade. It was to start at 9am at the local American Legion parking lot. My involvement was for about an hour and once the last participants were on their way I was free to go. Elle, after talking with Phyllis from next door, had decided to go to the big parade with them since there wasn’t that much to see locally. Barbara and Mo were supposed to be in the parade but had convinced Bill, their father (and the principal), that they should be with their cousins from Germany so the whole family went. I was going to be home alone… nice!
To be continued…
Working in close quarters with Dick while under the car we got to chat a little about family. I mentioned Elle’s and my dilemma on getting a bicycle for Jean and what it’d do to the relationship with her sister if her sister didn’t get one as well. I remember him laughing and then telling me about his boys and precisely the same thing. He told me his wife was way more concerned than he was and he went ahead and got the older one the bike anyway. He added that the younger one got over it quickly… but added that boys are different that way. When we’d finished our part of the job we were standing next to the car and he asked if I thought it would help if he loaned me one of his kids bikes for a while. I didn’t really know if it would or wouldn’t but asked why it was available. He laughed saying his older daughter had fallen out of a tree and broken her arm in two places and severely sprained her ankle. He said it’s be some time before she was on a bike again. I didn’t know what Elle would say but stopped at Dick’s house (he lived less than a quarter mile away and on the same road) to get the bike. Of course I had to wait until morning to broach the subject with Elle but the more I thought about it the more I liked it. I thought about what Dick had said about how quickly the situation went away and decided to focus on that when I told Elle.
She clearly didn’t like the idea of a borrowed bike but couldn’t come up with an alternative. We decided to go ahead with the new bike for Jean and to take Anne aside and tell her that in a day or two we’d borrow a “big girl” for her to use hoping that she’d focus on just having one and not that it belonged to someone else. That gave me time to pick up the new bike that afternoon and to have it ready for Jean the next morning.
By the end of the workday Jerry had talked with over two dozen applicants and had selected ten for one on one interviews. I would never have conducted a preliminary interview without a completed application in front of me. I’d noticed him madly scribbling things on a yellow pad for two days and wondered how he’d decipher it all when actually viewing the person. I’d done my part and contacted the restaurant where he was to meet with them and arranged for it to take place Friday morning. Right from the beginning I had a very bad feeling about letting Jerry handle it on his own but, as I’ve written, I was told “hands off”. The one thing I did do though was to watch where he put his ‘scribblings’. Still driving to the city each day, he would leave promptly at 5pm. By 5:30pm, with most people gone, I went to his desk and found the folder. I was somewhat surprised in that there was actually some organization to it. I made a few notes of my own based on the comments he’d written in red. I wanted to see if his perception of a qualified applicant held up when he made his actual selections.
The store that sold bikes was right on my way home. Elle and I’d agreed on one thing and it was to be a ‘plain Jane’ bike and without all the fancy stuff that was coming in to vogue at the time. I do remember the manufacturer… Ross, and it had dark blue fenders and the cost was around $35. Since I had my car the box with the bike ended up sticking out of the trunk and held in by common twine. I was nervous the whole way home. I’d called Elle when I left the bank and told her it’d be about an hour and to occupy Jean away from windows facing the garage. I actually made it all the way to the driveway before the twine broke. However, I was going so slow that when the box slipped out of the trunk it didn’t hurt it. All I could hope for was that Elle had Jean on the other side of the house.
We’d given Jean absolutely no indication that we’d honor her birthday request so when she came down stairs for breakfast and saw the bike in the kitchen she started to cry. I, myself, had no idea it was so important to her. Anne, on the other hand, just stood and glared at the bike. I’m not sure she said any words at all before leaving for school. We’d decided it was too hard to have a party with friends on a school day so for Jean it was only family… Elle’s and my parents. Elle’s mother didn’t believe in multiple gifts for birthdays so only had one for Jean. On the other hand, my mother went overboard but did one thing to help alleviate the tension between the two girls… she had presents for Anne as well. My mother was all in for clothes… which was OK by Elle and I. Each of the girls had developed an interest there as well so other than Elle’s mother feeling a bit ‘outdone’ by my mother and her multiple gifts, the evening went well. Anne, with new clothes, had forgotten the bike thing and that gave us time to present the borrowed bike to her at a later date and under better circumstances.
The following day was Memorial Day and, as I mentioned, I was helping to stage the local parade. It was to start at 9am at the local American Legion parking lot. My involvement was for about an hour and once the last participants were on their way I was free to go. Elle, after talking with Phyllis from next door, had decided to go to the big parade with them since there wasn’t that much to see locally. Barbara and Mo were supposed to be in the parade but had convinced Bill, their father (and the principal), that they should be with their cousins from Germany so the whole family went. I was going to be home alone… nice!
To be continued…
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159p)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159p)
At just about the halfway point of our qualifying race Cliffy pulled into the infield. We didn’t have radios in those days so we (the crew) had no idea what the problem was. We kept our eyes on the car and after a minute or so we could see steam rising from the radiator overflow can… not a good thing. After the race was over Cliffy pulled into our pit stall and said the temperature gauge had gone all the way up to 260 degrees, definitely not a good thing. Alan thought the problem might be a defective radiator cap so went to purchase a new one from the parts truck parked right across from us. Cliffy wasn’t so sure but Alan put water in the radiator and the new cap on to get the car ready for the ‘consolation’ or, what was also called the ‘last chance’, race. When the race was called onto the track we felt confident we’d be able to qualify. As Yogi Berra is supposed to have said, “It’s deja-vu all over again”, and it was for us. About five laps into the race (and safely in a qualifying spot) we watched Cliffy pull into the infield and soon saw the dreaded steam emerging from the catch can. With the car back at our pit stall Cliffy made the call that we’d probably blown a head gasket. If so, it wasn’t a major cost to fix it but it would be a time consuming project.
There were only four or five cars using the big block (428ci) Ford engine and it wasn’t a surprise to find the others who used it gather around to find out what our problem was after completion of all the races. Among them was ’Seeg’, C J’s father. This had been their third time to the track and, as I remember it, without much in the way of success. The track promoter had advertised C J’s arrival at the track and promoted him as a potential track champion but it wasn’t going all that well for him. I asked him what he thought the problem was and he said C J thought it was the motor… that it wasn’t built for such a small track. He added that they were thinking of switching over to a Chevy motor. I didn’t think much about it at the time worrying more about what we’d find when we took our motor apart on Monday night.
Even though we’d had a bad night, the little experiment we’d started on opening night of bringing a hibachi and food to the track to eat after the races continued. This was well before “tail gating” became the ‘in thing’ at football games. Cliffy’s wife, Beth, seeing the acceptance of the idea, had bought extras and shared it with fans who stopped by. The good will generated sort of glossed over the gloom we’d been showing and by the time we headed for home the mood had changed for the better.
Sunday, for me, was typical in that I was up and at church for the 8am service. However, when I got home Elle wasn’t in the process of getting the kids ready and I was surprised. It was because Beth had called and invited all of us for a picnic at her house and Elle had to bring something. Elle had felt sort of left out of the race car group, especially with the women, and figured this invitation was a way to become accepted. Naturally, I was pleased.
Cliffy’ and Beth’s house was small but they had a big back yard. That was good because there were over a dozen kids there. Beth had set the rules in that there was to be no “race car stuff” and the theme was fun and games. It was hard for the guys because we were curious as to what had happened to the motor the night before. But, Beth’s rules were adhered to and as far as Elle and I were concerned we’d been assimilated into the team. The only ‘downer’ was Buster’s wife, Marilyn, who was just flat out negative about everything. It was sort of funny in that Buster was the exact opposite. The one good thing was that she didn’t go to the races so we didn’t have to put up with it on a weekly basis.
On Monday, I heard from the guidance counselor at the local high school about some temporary help for a few weeks and a meeting with her was arranged. I told her of my past experience with kids from the school and she thought she’d be able to help us out. But, she did want to meet with me before committing to giving out names and arranging for interviews. I couldn’t argue but, for me, it was just another thing to take up valuable time.
At the garage that night I arrived to find Cliffy had already done quite a bit of work on dismantling the engine. With the full crew there it didn’t take long to find that we had, indeed, blown a head gasket. Cliffy’s father, who had actually assembled the motor, was there to find out what had gone wrong. He was quite surprised and couldn’t offer up a reason for the problem. The discovery also explained the reason for the discolored motor oil we’d found the week before… water from the blown head gasket. That meant we’d have to drop the oil pan and change the rod and crank shaft bearings… more time and money. The $1,000 we’d won on opening night was disappearing rapidly.
I learned something important that night and that was it was possible to change bearings while the motor was still mounted in the car. Dick recruited me to help him with the job and, for the first time since joining the team, I actually felt like I was a productive member. While the two of us worked on that the others cleaned up the cylinder heads and block so Cliffy could reinstall them with new gaskets. The only problem was it took us until 2am to finish the job. At that point we all anticipated starting the engine. However, Cliffy’s father had but one rule while we worked in his shop and that was we couldn’t run a motor after 11pm. At least it was all put back together as we walked out the door.
To be continued…
At just about the halfway point of our qualifying race Cliffy pulled into the infield. We didn’t have radios in those days so we (the crew) had no idea what the problem was. We kept our eyes on the car and after a minute or so we could see steam rising from the radiator overflow can… not a good thing. After the race was over Cliffy pulled into our pit stall and said the temperature gauge had gone all the way up to 260 degrees, definitely not a good thing. Alan thought the problem might be a defective radiator cap so went to purchase a new one from the parts truck parked right across from us. Cliffy wasn’t so sure but Alan put water in the radiator and the new cap on to get the car ready for the ‘consolation’ or, what was also called the ‘last chance’, race. When the race was called onto the track we felt confident we’d be able to qualify. As Yogi Berra is supposed to have said, “It’s deja-vu all over again”, and it was for us. About five laps into the race (and safely in a qualifying spot) we watched Cliffy pull into the infield and soon saw the dreaded steam emerging from the catch can. With the car back at our pit stall Cliffy made the call that we’d probably blown a head gasket. If so, it wasn’t a major cost to fix it but it would be a time consuming project.
There were only four or five cars using the big block (428ci) Ford engine and it wasn’t a surprise to find the others who used it gather around to find out what our problem was after completion of all the races. Among them was ’Seeg’, C J’s father. This had been their third time to the track and, as I remember it, without much in the way of success. The track promoter had advertised C J’s arrival at the track and promoted him as a potential track champion but it wasn’t going all that well for him. I asked him what he thought the problem was and he said C J thought it was the motor… that it wasn’t built for such a small track. He added that they were thinking of switching over to a Chevy motor. I didn’t think much about it at the time worrying more about what we’d find when we took our motor apart on Monday night.
Even though we’d had a bad night, the little experiment we’d started on opening night of bringing a hibachi and food to the track to eat after the races continued. This was well before “tail gating” became the ‘in thing’ at football games. Cliffy’s wife, Beth, seeing the acceptance of the idea, had bought extras and shared it with fans who stopped by. The good will generated sort of glossed over the gloom we’d been showing and by the time we headed for home the mood had changed for the better.
Sunday, for me, was typical in that I was up and at church for the 8am service. However, when I got home Elle wasn’t in the process of getting the kids ready and I was surprised. It was because Beth had called and invited all of us for a picnic at her house and Elle had to bring something. Elle had felt sort of left out of the race car group, especially with the women, and figured this invitation was a way to become accepted. Naturally, I was pleased.
Cliffy’ and Beth’s house was small but they had a big back yard. That was good because there were over a dozen kids there. Beth had set the rules in that there was to be no “race car stuff” and the theme was fun and games. It was hard for the guys because we were curious as to what had happened to the motor the night before. But, Beth’s rules were adhered to and as far as Elle and I were concerned we’d been assimilated into the team. The only ‘downer’ was Buster’s wife, Marilyn, who was just flat out negative about everything. It was sort of funny in that Buster was the exact opposite. The one good thing was that she didn’t go to the races so we didn’t have to put up with it on a weekly basis.
On Monday, I heard from the guidance counselor at the local high school about some temporary help for a few weeks and a meeting with her was arranged. I told her of my past experience with kids from the school and she thought she’d be able to help us out. But, she did want to meet with me before committing to giving out names and arranging for interviews. I couldn’t argue but, for me, it was just another thing to take up valuable time.
At the garage that night I arrived to find Cliffy had already done quite a bit of work on dismantling the engine. With the full crew there it didn’t take long to find that we had, indeed, blown a head gasket. Cliffy’s father, who had actually assembled the motor, was there to find out what had gone wrong. He was quite surprised and couldn’t offer up a reason for the problem. The discovery also explained the reason for the discolored motor oil we’d found the week before… water from the blown head gasket. That meant we’d have to drop the oil pan and change the rod and crank shaft bearings… more time and money. The $1,000 we’d won on opening night was disappearing rapidly.
I learned something important that night and that was it was possible to change bearings while the motor was still mounted in the car. Dick recruited me to help him with the job and, for the first time since joining the team, I actually felt like I was a productive member. While the two of us worked on that the others cleaned up the cylinder heads and block so Cliffy could reinstall them with new gaskets. The only problem was it took us until 2am to finish the job. At that point we all anticipated starting the engine. However, Cliffy’s father had but one rule while we worked in his shop and that was we couldn’t run a motor after 11pm. At least it was all put back together as we walked out the door.
To be continued…
Sunday, June 18, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY ... life goes on (Part 159o)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159o)
In a way I felt guilty making the call. It had been a couple of years since I’d talked with my cousin, Jenny, even though she lived less than 10 miles away (long story that I won’t go into… say “thanks!”). Benny, her husband was a good guy and I got along well with him. I had to make my way through Jenny to get to him though and that was a bit of a battle. I explained my predicament and didn’t waste time before getting to the point and asked if there was any chance of getting the job done. I didn’t mention anything about cost with my focus on just getting the signs up. He said he’d get back to me the next day, without fail. I remember being somewhat thankful that I’d gotten that far.
Elle and I were watching TV when the phone rang. It was almost 11pm and she wasn’t happy that someone would call at that time of night. It was Benny and the answer was a “yes”. Certainly a relief but my work on it was hardly done. I told him that I’d pick him up at his shop the next morning and go to the site to get what was needed pinned down. On a personal level it was almost to the point that I couldn’t make any plans at all because they’d be changed before execution.
I made a command decision to not have Jerry there with us and I knew there would be a ‘cost’ for doing it that way… but I didn’t care. Benny and I were ‘on the same page’ right from the time we arrived on site. I was back at my desk by mid morning. I let Hobie know what was going on and about not including Jerry. He didn’t come right out and say it but I got the distinct impression that he’d ‘cover’ for me on it. I took it as a win.
That night, at the race car garage the primary job was to mount the new tires. It was the first time for me and the other guys had a lot of fun watching me struggle. Finally, Dick felt sorry for me and gave me a hand. I was thankful but took advantage of his help and made notes on just how to do it. When Robo, the new crew member who arranged for us to get free racing oil, went to change the oil so we could put the new Quaker State oil in the motor he noted that the color of it didn’t seem right. Cliffy looked at it and made the decision that it was because we hadn’t changed it after the first race. Other than my struggle, it was a relatively easy night and I was home before Elle headed for bed… definitely a ‘plus’ for me.
The want ad for employees for the branch had been run in the local newspapers earlier that day and it was expected we’d be getting a fair amount of ‘action’ on Friday. Arrangements had been made for a place to do the interviewing that was fairly local to the branch location. The exact dates were to be determined after seeing how many responses there were. Jerry was beside himself with anticipation. All I had was trepidation. I’d been told to stay out of it even though I’d eventually be involved after Jerry made his selections. Only time would tell.
To end the day with a positive I got a call from Xerox that the ‘provisional’ contract had been approved and we’d have our new machine on the last day of May. That gave me almost a week to find something to do with our existing copy machine. Kelcy, the saleslady for Xerox had told me something I pretty much knew… it had no value at all. When leaving I got the idea to ask Mike, the messenger/custodian, to dispose of it at the town landfill and I’d pay him $20 out of petty cash to do it. He said he'd take care of it early the following week. Walking out the door I actually felt good about how things were going and now it was on to the weekend.
It started out to be a typical Saturday… chores (a trip to the ‘dump’, the lawn, watching the kids while Elle shopped) when Phyllis, the neighbor, showed up. I hadn’t seen much of her or her kids and nieces for a while. Elle had talked with her a bit and was told she was trying to expose the visiting German girls to as much of rural life as possible while they were with her. And that was what she wanted to see me about. With an American iconic holiday just about on us, Memorial Day, she wanted to know if it was worth taking the girls to the parade in the town where I worked. She’d been told it was “real Americana” but wanted to know if it was worth the trip and to miss seeing Mo and Barbara, her daughters, in the local parade. I told her a little about what they’d see… decorated floats… horses… lots of big fire trucks… many marching bands… veterans marching (or trying to) and exhibitions along the route. I told her, because it was so big, they might get a kick out of it. She thanked me and headed back through the hedge. I felt that I’d gotten off lightly.
Cliffy and the race crew stopped and picked me up for the races in mid afternoon. The general feeling was more upbeat than it had been the week prior because we now had competitive tires to race with. Things at the sign-in were better with almost everybody knowing (more or less) where they were to park. We ended up being early which, after unloading the car, gave us time to do some visiting. I saw CJ’s father, ’Seeg’ and walked over to chat. I’ll admit there was an ulterior motive… to check out Karen, CJ’s girlfriend and to see if she was wearing the white pants with the VPL I'd seen the previous week. We talked mostly about the new tires and the fact that we could only get one night of racing out of them. 'Seeg' told me he’d figured out that they would have to finish no worse than third just to pay for the tires each night. That wasn’t a good thought, at all. I didn’t get to see Karen until just about the time the track was opened for practice. On my way back to the car I saw her and it appeared she was dressed the same as the week before. I knew I’d be back.
To be continued…
In a way I felt guilty making the call. It had been a couple of years since I’d talked with my cousin, Jenny, even though she lived less than 10 miles away (long story that I won’t go into… say “thanks!”). Benny, her husband was a good guy and I got along well with him. I had to make my way through Jenny to get to him though and that was a bit of a battle. I explained my predicament and didn’t waste time before getting to the point and asked if there was any chance of getting the job done. I didn’t mention anything about cost with my focus on just getting the signs up. He said he’d get back to me the next day, without fail. I remember being somewhat thankful that I’d gotten that far.
Elle and I were watching TV when the phone rang. It was almost 11pm and she wasn’t happy that someone would call at that time of night. It was Benny and the answer was a “yes”. Certainly a relief but my work on it was hardly done. I told him that I’d pick him up at his shop the next morning and go to the site to get what was needed pinned down. On a personal level it was almost to the point that I couldn’t make any plans at all because they’d be changed before execution.
I made a command decision to not have Jerry there with us and I knew there would be a ‘cost’ for doing it that way… but I didn’t care. Benny and I were ‘on the same page’ right from the time we arrived on site. I was back at my desk by mid morning. I let Hobie know what was going on and about not including Jerry. He didn’t come right out and say it but I got the distinct impression that he’d ‘cover’ for me on it. I took it as a win.
That night, at the race car garage the primary job was to mount the new tires. It was the first time for me and the other guys had a lot of fun watching me struggle. Finally, Dick felt sorry for me and gave me a hand. I was thankful but took advantage of his help and made notes on just how to do it. When Robo, the new crew member who arranged for us to get free racing oil, went to change the oil so we could put the new Quaker State oil in the motor he noted that the color of it didn’t seem right. Cliffy looked at it and made the decision that it was because we hadn’t changed it after the first race. Other than my struggle, it was a relatively easy night and I was home before Elle headed for bed… definitely a ‘plus’ for me.
The want ad for employees for the branch had been run in the local newspapers earlier that day and it was expected we’d be getting a fair amount of ‘action’ on Friday. Arrangements had been made for a place to do the interviewing that was fairly local to the branch location. The exact dates were to be determined after seeing how many responses there were. Jerry was beside himself with anticipation. All I had was trepidation. I’d been told to stay out of it even though I’d eventually be involved after Jerry made his selections. Only time would tell.
To end the day with a positive I got a call from Xerox that the ‘provisional’ contract had been approved and we’d have our new machine on the last day of May. That gave me almost a week to find something to do with our existing copy machine. Kelcy, the saleslady for Xerox had told me something I pretty much knew… it had no value at all. When leaving I got the idea to ask Mike, the messenger/custodian, to dispose of it at the town landfill and I’d pay him $20 out of petty cash to do it. He said he'd take care of it early the following week. Walking out the door I actually felt good about how things were going and now it was on to the weekend.
It started out to be a typical Saturday… chores (a trip to the ‘dump’, the lawn, watching the kids while Elle shopped) when Phyllis, the neighbor, showed up. I hadn’t seen much of her or her kids and nieces for a while. Elle had talked with her a bit and was told she was trying to expose the visiting German girls to as much of rural life as possible while they were with her. And that was what she wanted to see me about. With an American iconic holiday just about on us, Memorial Day, she wanted to know if it was worth taking the girls to the parade in the town where I worked. She’d been told it was “real Americana” but wanted to know if it was worth the trip and to miss seeing Mo and Barbara, her daughters, in the local parade. I told her a little about what they’d see… decorated floats… horses… lots of big fire trucks… many marching bands… veterans marching (or trying to) and exhibitions along the route. I told her, because it was so big, they might get a kick out of it. She thanked me and headed back through the hedge. I felt that I’d gotten off lightly.
Cliffy and the race crew stopped and picked me up for the races in mid afternoon. The general feeling was more upbeat than it had been the week prior because we now had competitive tires to race with. Things at the sign-in were better with almost everybody knowing (more or less) where they were to park. We ended up being early which, after unloading the car, gave us time to do some visiting. I saw CJ’s father, ’Seeg’ and walked over to chat. I’ll admit there was an ulterior motive… to check out Karen, CJ’s girlfriend and to see if she was wearing the white pants with the VPL I'd seen the previous week. We talked mostly about the new tires and the fact that we could only get one night of racing out of them. 'Seeg' told me he’d figured out that they would have to finish no worse than third just to pay for the tires each night. That wasn’t a good thought, at all. I didn’t get to see Karen until just about the time the track was opened for practice. On my way back to the car I saw her and it appeared she was dressed the same as the week before. I knew I’d be back.
To be continued…
Saturday, June 17, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159n)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159n)
Stan, from the brokerage office, called before I left for the day to tell me the redemption of my bond was “in the works” and, per my request to Lynda, he’d come up with some suggestions on where to reinvest the money. Since the interest the bond paid wasn’t all that much thought I’d be better off investing in stocks that had some potential for growth. He said he’d pulled out some S&P stock reviews for me to peruse and to stop by on my way home and pick them up. Back when I still lived in the mobile home park I’d been a part of an small investment club which had exposed me to the S&P print outs. I hadn’t done any investing since buying the house and was somewhat excited but apprehensive about doing it. However, I felt, at the least, it was a prudent way to get back involved. By the time I got to the brokerage office Stan was gone but Lynda was there. I think that was the first time I’d been alone with her and I was somewhat surprised at the difference in her demeanor. Always bright and cheerful, well dressed and mannered, she seemed like a different person. I can’t think of the right descriptive word right now and the only one that comes to mind is ’sultry’. She didn’t ‘come on’ to me but it was a different Lynda I was talking with. I didn’t stay long and got the impression she was disappointed.
I had until July first to make a decision but took the materials home to study them. Of the five or six companies I was reviewing there was only one I’d ever heard of. Back when I was in the investment club the leader, a retired broker, had advised that neophytes, like we all were, a good starting place was to buy companies that made products that we knew and liked. I decided I’d go with that company as my choice. It was Taylor Instrument Company and made all kinds of gauges for all kinds of businesses. I recognized the name from some of the instruments my father used in his weather forecasting and also from the thermometer out on my patio. By the time I went to bed I was excited but had to wait for over a week to make the purchase.
Not that reading about stocks took up the whole evening because after the kids were in bed Elle and I discussed the one thing among all the others that distressed me the most. Our oldest, Jean, had pleaded with us to get a “big girl” bicycle for her birthday to replace the first two wheeler she got when she was five. Going to be nine, she’d been teased by her friends for still riding the smaller wheel type. My problem was that from the time she was four and Anne was three they were both the same physical size and had remained that way. It had meant buying double when it came to clothes and we’d pretty much resigned ourselves to that. But, if we got Jean a “big girl” bike and didn’t get one for Anne there would be a lot of discord between the two of them. Anne wouldn't be nine for a little over a year and, if we got one for Anne before that same age the discord would come from the other direction. We didn’t come to an agreement which pretty much ruled out any ‘amour’ upon our retiring for the night.
The full Board of Trustees meeting had been the prior Wednesday which meant it was only to be a mortgage committee meeting that day. I pretty much knew which Trustees were on each committee and when I saw members of the branch committee walking across the lobby that afternoon I wondered why. Hobie was nearby so I asked him and he just shrugged indicating he didn’t know as well. It turned out to be for a good reason.
I’ve written about my concerns on signage for the new branch… or, to be more exact, the lack of. Zoning regulations for the township where the branch was located were very strict and limited. Going by the way they were written, only one sign was allowed on the property and one on the building itself. Because of the weird dimensions of the property and location of the building on it, the sign would have to be placed on the East side and before the entrance to the parking lot. That meant cars approaching from the West would be almost past it before seeing the sign. It was not a good situation for a new business. When the Board added the two newest Trustees one was an attorney from the area the branch was to service. Hobie had told me he’d been selected because he was active in local politics and it was hoped it would help us get a ‘footing’ in the community. The choice paid its first dividend when he reported to the branch committee he’d been able to get the town trustees to grant the bank an exception to the sign rule. We'd be allowed to put lighted signs on both the East and West sides of the building.
I was not invited to the meeting but heard about it before heading for home. I was pleased but also realized I would now be tasked with getting the signs made up and installed before the branch opened, only a month away. I remember taking a deep breath and wondering if it were even possible. I was already concerned about the previously approved signs being ready and installed and that order had been place months earlier.
I’ve previously written that I ‘dabbled’ in sign painting. I was always looking at roadside signs, critiquing them as I did, and looking for ideas. I also looked to see who painted them and, on my way home, saw a sign painted by the husband of one of my cousins. He and his father ran a small shop and I wondered if I could use ‘familial’ influence to get the job done. I was on the phone right after I walked into the house.
To be continued…
Stan, from the brokerage office, called before I left for the day to tell me the redemption of my bond was “in the works” and, per my request to Lynda, he’d come up with some suggestions on where to reinvest the money. Since the interest the bond paid wasn’t all that much thought I’d be better off investing in stocks that had some potential for growth. He said he’d pulled out some S&P stock reviews for me to peruse and to stop by on my way home and pick them up. Back when I still lived in the mobile home park I’d been a part of an small investment club which had exposed me to the S&P print outs. I hadn’t done any investing since buying the house and was somewhat excited but apprehensive about doing it. However, I felt, at the least, it was a prudent way to get back involved. By the time I got to the brokerage office Stan was gone but Lynda was there. I think that was the first time I’d been alone with her and I was somewhat surprised at the difference in her demeanor. Always bright and cheerful, well dressed and mannered, she seemed like a different person. I can’t think of the right descriptive word right now and the only one that comes to mind is ’sultry’. She didn’t ‘come on’ to me but it was a different Lynda I was talking with. I didn’t stay long and got the impression she was disappointed.
I had until July first to make a decision but took the materials home to study them. Of the five or six companies I was reviewing there was only one I’d ever heard of. Back when I was in the investment club the leader, a retired broker, had advised that neophytes, like we all were, a good starting place was to buy companies that made products that we knew and liked. I decided I’d go with that company as my choice. It was Taylor Instrument Company and made all kinds of gauges for all kinds of businesses. I recognized the name from some of the instruments my father used in his weather forecasting and also from the thermometer out on my patio. By the time I went to bed I was excited but had to wait for over a week to make the purchase.
Not that reading about stocks took up the whole evening because after the kids were in bed Elle and I discussed the one thing among all the others that distressed me the most. Our oldest, Jean, had pleaded with us to get a “big girl” bicycle for her birthday to replace the first two wheeler she got when she was five. Going to be nine, she’d been teased by her friends for still riding the smaller wheel type. My problem was that from the time she was four and Anne was three they were both the same physical size and had remained that way. It had meant buying double when it came to clothes and we’d pretty much resigned ourselves to that. But, if we got Jean a “big girl” bike and didn’t get one for Anne there would be a lot of discord between the two of them. Anne wouldn't be nine for a little over a year and, if we got one for Anne before that same age the discord would come from the other direction. We didn’t come to an agreement which pretty much ruled out any ‘amour’ upon our retiring for the night.
The full Board of Trustees meeting had been the prior Wednesday which meant it was only to be a mortgage committee meeting that day. I pretty much knew which Trustees were on each committee and when I saw members of the branch committee walking across the lobby that afternoon I wondered why. Hobie was nearby so I asked him and he just shrugged indicating he didn’t know as well. It turned out to be for a good reason.
I’ve written about my concerns on signage for the new branch… or, to be more exact, the lack of. Zoning regulations for the township where the branch was located were very strict and limited. Going by the way they were written, only one sign was allowed on the property and one on the building itself. Because of the weird dimensions of the property and location of the building on it, the sign would have to be placed on the East side and before the entrance to the parking lot. That meant cars approaching from the West would be almost past it before seeing the sign. It was not a good situation for a new business. When the Board added the two newest Trustees one was an attorney from the area the branch was to service. Hobie had told me he’d been selected because he was active in local politics and it was hoped it would help us get a ‘footing’ in the community. The choice paid its first dividend when he reported to the branch committee he’d been able to get the town trustees to grant the bank an exception to the sign rule. We'd be allowed to put lighted signs on both the East and West sides of the building.
I was not invited to the meeting but heard about it before heading for home. I was pleased but also realized I would now be tasked with getting the signs made up and installed before the branch opened, only a month away. I remember taking a deep breath and wondering if it were even possible. I was already concerned about the previously approved signs being ready and installed and that order had been place months earlier.
I’ve previously written that I ‘dabbled’ in sign painting. I was always looking at roadside signs, critiquing them as I did, and looking for ideas. I also looked to see who painted them and, on my way home, saw a sign painted by the husband of one of my cousins. He and his father ran a small shop and I wondered if I could use ‘familial’ influence to get the job done. I was on the phone right after I walked into the house.
To be continued…
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159m)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159m)
It was about a 15 minute trip from my house to the first bank I'd worked at and where the safe deposit box was located that held the corporate bond I needed. I made a decision to get to work late and to retrieve the bond. There was a quick thought about closing the box but after seeing what was in it decided to wait until another day. Of course it took more time than I’d planned because some of the people I’d previously worked with wanted to know how things were going for me. The one thing I did take notice of was the teller line was now much younger (and attractive) than it had been when I was there. As far as looks were concerned I would have loved to have traded my tellers for theirs.
To save time on the trip from there to work I took what was then called ‘the back road’. It was definitely quicker after the school buses had finished their rounds. It also took me past Lorie’s house. Even though I’d made promises to myself to use that route more often, I hadn’t. Approaching the stop light on the corner where the house was I had my full attention on the clothes line that paralleled the road. Knowing there were only two females living there I had no trouble discerning which panties belonged to Lorie. What took me by surprise was there was a mix of bikinis along with a few full brief panties. On the few occasions I’d passed by the house I’d never seen bikinis on the line. I’d entertained the idea During the Winter, or at least while it still dark around 6pm or so, I'd entertained the idea of stopping by the fence and, if there were panties on the line, trying to get a close look and maybe a feel of them. I don’t remember the count on the panties but it was certainly interesting to find out Lorie was sometimes wearing bikinis. Unfortunately, Lorie’s choices for clothes didn’t offer much opportunity for VPL’s.
With the bond in hand I wanted to get to the stock broker during lunch to turn it in. It was for $5,000 and I needed to find something else to invest the money in. I’d established an account with them way back when I still lived in the mobile home park. I'd stop in on occasion just to keep contact with the manager. The office was a converted store, or actually two of them with two separate doors. If I were to walk in the door on the right I’d be talking with Bill, the manager. A nice guy but not very dynamic. The door on the left would take me to Stan, the assistant manager. He was an older man, probably 50 or so, who had gotten fed up with the ‘rat race’ in the city and went into semi retirement. Bored, he signed on to work under Bill. He and I hit it off right from the beginning. I had confidence in him that whatever advice he gave me was for my benefit and not for his.
His secretary, Lynda, was a stunning blond with hair just below her shoulders. She was tall, about 5’9” with a perpetual smile and a good sense of humor. Her counterpart, Bill’s secretary, was Ruthe (and that’s the way she spelled it) pronounced “Ruthie”. If ever there was an opposite to Lynda it was Ruthe. Short dark hair with a somewhat dour personality, she never had much to say sticking mostly to the business at hand. Having said that, in my observations of the two of them working together, it appeared they got along well.
When I walked in on that day Stan was on the phone which gave me a chance to talk with Lynda. I’d previously learned that she was from the Boston area, her New England accent was quite pronounced. A college graduate, she met her husband while in school. He was the son of a local car dealer and after they married they settled in the area so he could help run the business. Lynda didn’t want to work in the same business as her father-in-law so stayed at home. Bored, she went looking for something to do and, at a party, met Bill who offered her a job. As I remember it, by then she’d been there for almost a year. Over time I’d become comfortable with her and the knowledge she’d gleaned from working with Stan. I ended up leaving the bond with her and asked her to have Stan call me later.
My salesman friend, Paul, was at my desk waiting for me when I returned. He was an interesting character… always looking for the ‘next big thing’, even if it was in a field he had no knowledge or experience in. I was interested in ordering a bunch of small give-aways and was looking forward to seeing what he’d come up for me. However, he wanted to talk to me about his new idea. In certain parts of the country state banking departments had loosened up some of the rules governing a product called a Certificate of Deposit. What Paul had learned was that the rate of interest paid on them varied greatly depending on not only geographical location but for the length of time they were issued. It was sort of like the corporate bond I’d just turned in but it was issued by financial institutions and not major corporations. He had also discovered there were ‘big money’ investors who were always looking for the highest rate available… and he wanted to start a newsletter to get this information disseminated.
I’ll be truthful here… I didn’t have any idea what a Certificate of Deposit was because I’d never even heard of them… so gave Paul a blank stare. He was nice about it but stated that he was going to be pursuing his new idea and the sale of the cheap give-aways to me would be the last for him. I made my choices and then wished him luck as he was leaving. His response was that he’d be back to see me when the bank started issuing Certificates. I just smiled.
To be continued...
It was about a 15 minute trip from my house to the first bank I'd worked at and where the safe deposit box was located that held the corporate bond I needed. I made a decision to get to work late and to retrieve the bond. There was a quick thought about closing the box but after seeing what was in it decided to wait until another day. Of course it took more time than I’d planned because some of the people I’d previously worked with wanted to know how things were going for me. The one thing I did take notice of was the teller line was now much younger (and attractive) than it had been when I was there. As far as looks were concerned I would have loved to have traded my tellers for theirs.
To save time on the trip from there to work I took what was then called ‘the back road’. It was definitely quicker after the school buses had finished their rounds. It also took me past Lorie’s house. Even though I’d made promises to myself to use that route more often, I hadn’t. Approaching the stop light on the corner where the house was I had my full attention on the clothes line that paralleled the road. Knowing there were only two females living there I had no trouble discerning which panties belonged to Lorie. What took me by surprise was there was a mix of bikinis along with a few full brief panties. On the few occasions I’d passed by the house I’d never seen bikinis on the line. I’d entertained the idea During the Winter, or at least while it still dark around 6pm or so, I'd entertained the idea of stopping by the fence and, if there were panties on the line, trying to get a close look and maybe a feel of them. I don’t remember the count on the panties but it was certainly interesting to find out Lorie was sometimes wearing bikinis. Unfortunately, Lorie’s choices for clothes didn’t offer much opportunity for VPL’s.
With the bond in hand I wanted to get to the stock broker during lunch to turn it in. It was for $5,000 and I needed to find something else to invest the money in. I’d established an account with them way back when I still lived in the mobile home park. I'd stop in on occasion just to keep contact with the manager. The office was a converted store, or actually two of them with two separate doors. If I were to walk in the door on the right I’d be talking with Bill, the manager. A nice guy but not very dynamic. The door on the left would take me to Stan, the assistant manager. He was an older man, probably 50 or so, who had gotten fed up with the ‘rat race’ in the city and went into semi retirement. Bored, he signed on to work under Bill. He and I hit it off right from the beginning. I had confidence in him that whatever advice he gave me was for my benefit and not for his.
His secretary, Lynda, was a stunning blond with hair just below her shoulders. She was tall, about 5’9” with a perpetual smile and a good sense of humor. Her counterpart, Bill’s secretary, was Ruthe (and that’s the way she spelled it) pronounced “Ruthie”. If ever there was an opposite to Lynda it was Ruthe. Short dark hair with a somewhat dour personality, she never had much to say sticking mostly to the business at hand. Having said that, in my observations of the two of them working together, it appeared they got along well.
When I walked in on that day Stan was on the phone which gave me a chance to talk with Lynda. I’d previously learned that she was from the Boston area, her New England accent was quite pronounced. A college graduate, she met her husband while in school. He was the son of a local car dealer and after they married they settled in the area so he could help run the business. Lynda didn’t want to work in the same business as her father-in-law so stayed at home. Bored, she went looking for something to do and, at a party, met Bill who offered her a job. As I remember it, by then she’d been there for almost a year. Over time I’d become comfortable with her and the knowledge she’d gleaned from working with Stan. I ended up leaving the bond with her and asked her to have Stan call me later.
My salesman friend, Paul, was at my desk waiting for me when I returned. He was an interesting character… always looking for the ‘next big thing’, even if it was in a field he had no knowledge or experience in. I was interested in ordering a bunch of small give-aways and was looking forward to seeing what he’d come up for me. However, he wanted to talk to me about his new idea. In certain parts of the country state banking departments had loosened up some of the rules governing a product called a Certificate of Deposit. What Paul had learned was that the rate of interest paid on them varied greatly depending on not only geographical location but for the length of time they were issued. It was sort of like the corporate bond I’d just turned in but it was issued by financial institutions and not major corporations. He had also discovered there were ‘big money’ investors who were always looking for the highest rate available… and he wanted to start a newsletter to get this information disseminated.
I’ll be truthful here… I didn’t have any idea what a Certificate of Deposit was because I’d never even heard of them… so gave Paul a blank stare. He was nice about it but stated that he was going to be pursuing his new idea and the sale of the cheap give-aways to me would be the last for him. I made my choices and then wished him luck as he was leaving. His response was that he’d be back to see me when the bank started issuing Certificates. I just smiled.
To be continued...
Monday, June 12, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159l)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159l)
Winning on opening night had generated a lot of local interest and it seemed like it was continuing as there were a number of fans there to chat with Cliffy. One of them was a guy I’d seen hanging around the car after Saturday night’s race. He wasn’t talking to anyone in particular so I asked if he was there to see Cliffy. He didn’t give a definite answer so I went back to unloading all the gear from the hauler. It wasn’t until we had the car on the floor and were inspecting it that he finally walked up to Cliffy. It didn’t take long for Cliffy to call us all over and introduced us to ‘Robob’. His name was Robert but said he preferred to be called Robob so Robob it was.
He was a parts manager for a heavy equipment dealer up West, about 40 miles away. For some reason he’d taken a liking to our car and wanted to know if we could use some help in the pits. Of course Cliffy said “yes” and introduced him to the rest off us. My first impression was that he was nice guy but just what did he bring to the operation. By the time we left to go home I (and the others) knew… his uncle worked for Quaker State petroleum and they had just created a special oil for racing. If we’d run their decal on the car we could get oil for free. Cliffy was all for anything that came for free so we had a deal… and a new crew member.
The damage to the car was mostly superficial which was good from a monetary standpoint. By the time we quit for the night all the important stuff had been taken care of. We agreed to meet again Thursday night and, according to Cliffy, we’d have our new tires to mount along with checking over all the suspension parts… an easy week. I left feeling a lot better than when I’d arrived.
Tuesday, at work, was better too. An announcement about the chairman was made right before the doors opened. There was nothing in it that I didn’t already know but at least it stopped the rumors. With the latter half of the month coming up I took the time to make a list of some major things involving me before the end of the month. The most important was the ninth birthday for my oldest daughter, Jean. It was two days prior to Memorial Day and for that I’d been asked to help ‘stage’ the local parade. There were three villages in our township and each one took a turn hosting it. It was nothing major… the high school band, cheerleaders, a few fire trucks and a bunch of local veterans trying to march with some semblance of order. I’d received a notice in the mail that a corporate bond that I’d received in the trust account my grandfather had set up for me was being “called” and interest on it would stop on May 31. I had to turn it in to get the money so that meant getting it from our safe deposit box. It was at the bank I’d first started my banking career so that meant taking time off to retrieve it. I can’t tell you why I didn’t think to move it but I hadn’t. And… I still had to stop to see Gertrude about the Bermuda trip for Elle and I.
For the bank, I had to make another branch inspection and to decide on when the teller machines were to be delivered. That meant another trip with Jerry, something I could do without. I’d been doing business with a salesman who sold ‘give aways’ like matches, pens key fobs and the like and had suggested he stop by to get a new order. I knew we’d go through a lot of them with the increased lobby traffic with the new account campaign. I liked doing business with him because he put no sales pressure on me. However, it was something else to take up time I didn’t really have. And then, I had to meet the new guidance teacher at the high school about hiring some kids to open new accounts during the gift/premium campaign.
“First things first…” was something my grandfather said all the time. It was ingrained into my brain so of all the things on the list I did the one that had been postponed from the day before… make the reservations for Bermuda. At lunchtime I walked down to the travel agency and was greeted by a smiling Gertrude. I’d called on Monday to tell her I’d be there and then never called to say I wouldn’t make it. That didn’t seem to be an issue as she had two folders on her desk for me. As I mentioned before, cost was my big issue. Because we would be there “out of season” (“in season started on September 15) we would be saving about 30%. On top of that, Gertrude was giving us an additional 5% out of her commission. But that wasn’t all. Eastern Airlines (anybody remember them?) had a special promotion for tickets purchased three months in advance. I don’t remember what it amounted to or just what the airfare was but between the combination of the two it kept me within the budget I’d established. I told Gertrude to book it all and I’d drop off a bank check on my way home. As a rule I hated to spend money but on the walk back to the bank I felt good. The only problem was it was over three months until we were to leave. The good thing about that was it was Summer and time would fly by.
Later, at home, when I told Elle that the reservations had been made and paid for I got a ‘reward’. No, it wasn’t what you’re thinking… it was strawberry shortcake. John (the neighbor farmer) had a strawberry patch between our houses and some had ripened early. He picked some and dropped off a quart. It was a sweet surprise and I was also able to elicit a ‘promise’ from Elle for later.
To be continued...
Winning on opening night had generated a lot of local interest and it seemed like it was continuing as there were a number of fans there to chat with Cliffy. One of them was a guy I’d seen hanging around the car after Saturday night’s race. He wasn’t talking to anyone in particular so I asked if he was there to see Cliffy. He didn’t give a definite answer so I went back to unloading all the gear from the hauler. It wasn’t until we had the car on the floor and were inspecting it that he finally walked up to Cliffy. It didn’t take long for Cliffy to call us all over and introduced us to ‘Robob’. His name was Robert but said he preferred to be called Robob so Robob it was.
He was a parts manager for a heavy equipment dealer up West, about 40 miles away. For some reason he’d taken a liking to our car and wanted to know if we could use some help in the pits. Of course Cliffy said “yes” and introduced him to the rest off us. My first impression was that he was nice guy but just what did he bring to the operation. By the time we left to go home I (and the others) knew… his uncle worked for Quaker State petroleum and they had just created a special oil for racing. If we’d run their decal on the car we could get oil for free. Cliffy was all for anything that came for free so we had a deal… and a new crew member.
The damage to the car was mostly superficial which was good from a monetary standpoint. By the time we quit for the night all the important stuff had been taken care of. We agreed to meet again Thursday night and, according to Cliffy, we’d have our new tires to mount along with checking over all the suspension parts… an easy week. I left feeling a lot better than when I’d arrived.
Tuesday, at work, was better too. An announcement about the chairman was made right before the doors opened. There was nothing in it that I didn’t already know but at least it stopped the rumors. With the latter half of the month coming up I took the time to make a list of some major things involving me before the end of the month. The most important was the ninth birthday for my oldest daughter, Jean. It was two days prior to Memorial Day and for that I’d been asked to help ‘stage’ the local parade. There were three villages in our township and each one took a turn hosting it. It was nothing major… the high school band, cheerleaders, a few fire trucks and a bunch of local veterans trying to march with some semblance of order. I’d received a notice in the mail that a corporate bond that I’d received in the trust account my grandfather had set up for me was being “called” and interest on it would stop on May 31. I had to turn it in to get the money so that meant getting it from our safe deposit box. It was at the bank I’d first started my banking career so that meant taking time off to retrieve it. I can’t tell you why I didn’t think to move it but I hadn’t. And… I still had to stop to see Gertrude about the Bermuda trip for Elle and I.
For the bank, I had to make another branch inspection and to decide on when the teller machines were to be delivered. That meant another trip with Jerry, something I could do without. I’d been doing business with a salesman who sold ‘give aways’ like matches, pens key fobs and the like and had suggested he stop by to get a new order. I knew we’d go through a lot of them with the increased lobby traffic with the new account campaign. I liked doing business with him because he put no sales pressure on me. However, it was something else to take up time I didn’t really have. And then, I had to meet the new guidance teacher at the high school about hiring some kids to open new accounts during the gift/premium campaign.
“First things first…” was something my grandfather said all the time. It was ingrained into my brain so of all the things on the list I did the one that had been postponed from the day before… make the reservations for Bermuda. At lunchtime I walked down to the travel agency and was greeted by a smiling Gertrude. I’d called on Monday to tell her I’d be there and then never called to say I wouldn’t make it. That didn’t seem to be an issue as she had two folders on her desk for me. As I mentioned before, cost was my big issue. Because we would be there “out of season” (“in season started on September 15) we would be saving about 30%. On top of that, Gertrude was giving us an additional 5% out of her commission. But that wasn’t all. Eastern Airlines (anybody remember them?) had a special promotion for tickets purchased three months in advance. I don’t remember what it amounted to or just what the airfare was but between the combination of the two it kept me within the budget I’d established. I told Gertrude to book it all and I’d drop off a bank check on my way home. As a rule I hated to spend money but on the walk back to the bank I felt good. The only problem was it was over three months until we were to leave. The good thing about that was it was Summer and time would fly by.
Later, at home, when I told Elle that the reservations had been made and paid for I got a ‘reward’. No, it wasn’t what you’re thinking… it was strawberry shortcake. John (the neighbor farmer) had a strawberry patch between our houses and some had ripened early. He picked some and dropped off a quart. It was a sweet surprise and I was also able to elicit a ‘promise’ from Elle for later.
To be continued...
Saturday, June 10, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159k)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159k)
Kelcy had another appointment to get to so as soon as she was on her way I ran across the street to the luncheonette for a quick bite to eat. Returning to the bank I followed two of the Trustees through the door. They made straight for the elevator and, I, seeing Hobie alone, headed for his area. I told him about my being called up to see Bert and that I had no idea why. He said he didn’t know either but he added that Bert wasn’t taking the news about the chairman very well. I thought that was the end of our conversation but he motioned for me to take a seat at the side chair. I had no idea what that was going to be about.
Hobie proceeded to give me some background on the relationship between the two men. The chairman had been instrumental in getting Bert a job with the bank and then proceeded to mentor him into being the mortgage officer. Bert’s father was killed in WWI and Hobie kind of indicated that the chairman had somewhat filled that void. Hobie added that they had been very close for as long as he’d been at the bank… about fifteen years. And that was all he had to say. I was still puzzled about my visit with Bert but Hobie had no more to add. Walking back to my desk I just had a strange feeling.
Jerry was waiting for me when I got there. He wanted to know how soon the interviews were to take place. I actually laughed when I told him the want ads still had to be run in the papers. However, his question brought up something of importance to me… I had to hire some temporary help to open new accounts at this office since the premium/gifts were being offered at both offices. I’d had some good luck the last time by going to the guidance office at the high school so made contact with the director. She wasn’t the same one I’d dealt with before which meant me having to take time to establish a relationship with her. It was time that I needed for other things but it had to be done.
I felt like a juggler with many ‘balls’ in the air. Bret was helping out by following up on some of the pending items while continuing to wait on customers. Jerry was proving to be a problem because he attempted to make friends with each and every customer that came to his desk. I’d made Hobie aware of it and all I got in return was a wan smile and a palms up motion indicating there was nothing he could do about it.
Over the weekend Elle and I had made a decision on what hotel to stay at on our Bermuda trip. It was one of the ones Gertrude (the travel agency lady) had suggested. The name of the place was Elbow Beach Resort Hotel. I’d planned on stopping at the agency during my lunch hour but that didn’t come to pass. We’d decided on the week after Labor Day as the kids would be settled into school by then plus we’d both still have a Summer tan and wouldn’t have to face getting sunburned while there. We had three and a half months to wait but with all we had going during the Summer we knew the time would pass quickly. I’d calculated what six days and five nights would cost me determined by the prices in the brochure. But, what I was really curious about was what kind of a “break’ Gertrud could/would give us and that was the primary reason for wanting to get our decision to Gertrude as soon as possible. By mid afternoon I was getting ‘antsy’ about it and hoped I could leave a little early.
Seeing the two Trustees walk in ahead of me at lunch time was just the beginning. By 2pm Trish had counted ten of them having gone upstairs. No official word had been disseminated to the staff about the chairman which I thought a bit strange. Hobie had been summoned and went upstairs to the Board room without saying anything to me. The whole situation was weird but all I could do was wait for some sort of announcement. By 5pm none had come down and as far as the employees it was all just rumor and conjecture. Bret and I decided that the best course of action was to just stay and wait.
It was a somber group of Trustees that filed out the back door around 5:30pm or so. I’d asked Mike, the messenger/custodian, to stay a little late to let them out as I didn’t want that job, especially under those circumstances. For once, Hobie sought me out and I asked if Bret could be a part of it. The official word was that the chairman had suffered a massive stroke but was still alive. He was being sent, via ambulance, (they didn’t use helicopters for that in those days) to a special cardiac hospital facility in the city. The reason for the meeting of the Trustees was to ratify the emergency succession plan should the chairman not survive. It was also to appoint Bert as acting chairman until the health of the chairman could be fully determined. It was a most sobering experience hearing all the ‘what ifs’. When Bret and I left for the night it put some of the trivial things we had to deal with on a day to day basis in the proper perspective.
Monday night was when the crew for the racecar were to meet at the garage and to unload it from the hauler, to asses any damage and to begin to make repairs. I no more wanted to go that night than I’d want to jump off a moving train but, much to my surprise, it was Elle that suggested that it would be good for me. On my way to the garage I thought back on it and sort of agreed. Staying home, I would probably not have been good company for Elle or the kids. Cliffy was backing the hauler up to the door when I pulled up. As soon as I saw the car I forgot about work. Elle had been right.(112)
To be continued…
Kelcy had another appointment to get to so as soon as she was on her way I ran across the street to the luncheonette for a quick bite to eat. Returning to the bank I followed two of the Trustees through the door. They made straight for the elevator and, I, seeing Hobie alone, headed for his area. I told him about my being called up to see Bert and that I had no idea why. He said he didn’t know either but he added that Bert wasn’t taking the news about the chairman very well. I thought that was the end of our conversation but he motioned for me to take a seat at the side chair. I had no idea what that was going to be about.
Hobie proceeded to give me some background on the relationship between the two men. The chairman had been instrumental in getting Bert a job with the bank and then proceeded to mentor him into being the mortgage officer. Bert’s father was killed in WWI and Hobie kind of indicated that the chairman had somewhat filled that void. Hobie added that they had been very close for as long as he’d been at the bank… about fifteen years. And that was all he had to say. I was still puzzled about my visit with Bert but Hobie had no more to add. Walking back to my desk I just had a strange feeling.
Jerry was waiting for me when I got there. He wanted to know how soon the interviews were to take place. I actually laughed when I told him the want ads still had to be run in the papers. However, his question brought up something of importance to me… I had to hire some temporary help to open new accounts at this office since the premium/gifts were being offered at both offices. I’d had some good luck the last time by going to the guidance office at the high school so made contact with the director. She wasn’t the same one I’d dealt with before which meant me having to take time to establish a relationship with her. It was time that I needed for other things but it had to be done.
I felt like a juggler with many ‘balls’ in the air. Bret was helping out by following up on some of the pending items while continuing to wait on customers. Jerry was proving to be a problem because he attempted to make friends with each and every customer that came to his desk. I’d made Hobie aware of it and all I got in return was a wan smile and a palms up motion indicating there was nothing he could do about it.
Over the weekend Elle and I had made a decision on what hotel to stay at on our Bermuda trip. It was one of the ones Gertrude (the travel agency lady) had suggested. The name of the place was Elbow Beach Resort Hotel. I’d planned on stopping at the agency during my lunch hour but that didn’t come to pass. We’d decided on the week after Labor Day as the kids would be settled into school by then plus we’d both still have a Summer tan and wouldn’t have to face getting sunburned while there. We had three and a half months to wait but with all we had going during the Summer we knew the time would pass quickly. I’d calculated what six days and five nights would cost me determined by the prices in the brochure. But, what I was really curious about was what kind of a “break’ Gertrud could/would give us and that was the primary reason for wanting to get our decision to Gertrude as soon as possible. By mid afternoon I was getting ‘antsy’ about it and hoped I could leave a little early.
Seeing the two Trustees walk in ahead of me at lunch time was just the beginning. By 2pm Trish had counted ten of them having gone upstairs. No official word had been disseminated to the staff about the chairman which I thought a bit strange. Hobie had been summoned and went upstairs to the Board room without saying anything to me. The whole situation was weird but all I could do was wait for some sort of announcement. By 5pm none had come down and as far as the employees it was all just rumor and conjecture. Bret and I decided that the best course of action was to just stay and wait.
It was a somber group of Trustees that filed out the back door around 5:30pm or so. I’d asked Mike, the messenger/custodian, to stay a little late to let them out as I didn’t want that job, especially under those circumstances. For once, Hobie sought me out and I asked if Bret could be a part of it. The official word was that the chairman had suffered a massive stroke but was still alive. He was being sent, via ambulance, (they didn’t use helicopters for that in those days) to a special cardiac hospital facility in the city. The reason for the meeting of the Trustees was to ratify the emergency succession plan should the chairman not survive. It was also to appoint Bert as acting chairman until the health of the chairman could be fully determined. It was a most sobering experience hearing all the ‘what ifs’. When Bret and I left for the night it put some of the trivial things we had to deal with on a day to day basis in the proper perspective.
Monday night was when the crew for the racecar were to meet at the garage and to unload it from the hauler, to asses any damage and to begin to make repairs. I no more wanted to go that night than I’d want to jump off a moving train but, much to my surprise, it was Elle that suggested that it would be good for me. On my way to the garage I thought back on it and sort of agreed. Staying home, I would probably not have been good company for Elle or the kids. Cliffy was backing the hauler up to the door when I pulled up. As soon as I saw the car I forgot about work. Elle had been right.(112)
To be continued…
Thursday, June 08, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159j)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159j)
The only thing worse than going to work on a Monday morning is to have your secretary tell you, before you even reach your desk, that the president wants to see you. It took a few seconds for that to sink in but when climbing the stairs it came to me that it wasn’t even 9am… and Bert almost never arrived before 9:15am. Hobie wasn’t there to at least give me an idea what I was facing. I walked up to the door to his office with an open, but wary, mind. I’ve described Bert before, and he was, by nature, a very calm and sincere individual. Walking in I could see he had a very different look on his face. He wasted no time telling me that the Chairman of the Board of Trustees had suffered a stroke and was in ICU at the hospital. Naturally, my first reaction was concern for the man and his family. Past that I wondered why I was summoned. There was nothing for me to say so I just stood there like a statue waiting for his next words. But his phone rang and when it did he waved his hand to dismiss me. As a junior officer I seldom had any contact with the chairman. I couldn’t quite connect why Bert had felt the need to single me out for the news.
It didn’t take long for the general business of the day to take my mind off of the ailing chairman. Trish handed me a couple of notes with one being from the Xerox office. It told me that a Kelcy would be there to see me around 10am. I’d had in mind to go check out what space was available after the 3M machine was removed. It was located in just about the most inconvenient space in the whole bank… a small room that held most of the working file cabinets for the accounting department… and where Moira had been relegated to work. I’d had little contact with her for a while and assumed things were going well for her. As soon as I appeared in the doorway she looked up and smiled. Even though I didn’t want to I asked and got way more information than I wanted. I can’t say I didn’t care because I really did. I’d invested a fair amount of time trying to help her out so in spite of the pressure of time before Kelcy (I didn’t know if it was male or female) showed up I stood there and listened.
Basically, Gee (the Trustee/attorney) had been able to track her husband down and had filed papers on her behalf for a divorce. There was a fair chance that he might co-operate. The big thing she was hoping for was that she’d get some money back from the house they’d bought and found they never got the title to it. One thing I got from the conversation was in seeing her with an ‘easy’ smile. She really was an attractive woman but with all her trials and tribulations it seldom showed. I finally had to excuse myself without garnering the information it needed about space for the Xerox.
Kelcy was female… definitely female! It was good thing I’d seen her walking across the lobby before she showed up at my desk or I would've embarrassed myself. Definitely ‘with it’ as far as dress (white blouse with lace around the collar and a light gray pencil skirt) and appearance was concerned. She stuck out her hand and I wasn’t expecting the grip I got. Her long brown hair was all draped over one shoulder and covered one of her breasts. Big green eyes with what we now call ‘pouty’ lips finished off what I called “the city look”. When she spoke her first words I did a bit of a ‘double take’. Her voice was deeper than a lot of the males I knew. It didn’t take long to figure out she knew her ‘stuff’. However, I couldn’t answer her most important questions about the type and volume of copies the bank made. That made it difficult. I got a quick education on types of machines and features. After a short while I could see she was getting frustrated with me. To put an end to it I asked if it were possible to lease a small one just to get us started and then to move a larger one if the volume showed it necessary.
I don’t know if it was that she wanted to help me out or that she was ‘under the gun’ to get a contract signed but she said she’d work something out. She left to get some paperwork from her car and when she returned put a fair sized leather case on the floor and, still standing, proceeded to bend over and rifle through some folders. Her backside was facing Bret and I happened to catch him looking at it. Then, when he saw me he bugged his eyes out to let me know he’d had a good view. There was nothing I could do to catch a glimpse so just sat and waited for her to come up the the contract papers.
Because it wasn’t a standard Xerox contract she had to make a number of calls to her office for clearance. Bret had left his desk so I told her to sit in his chair and use his phone. I was reading the lease papers when I heard her call my name. I looked up and saw her start to spin the chair around and when she did she put one foot on the floor and pushed off with it. When she did I saw the ‘magic triangle’. It was for only a second but I immediately felt that I’d done better than Bret had with his view.
What I ended up signing was a ‘provisional’ contract. I’d never heard of one before but Kelcy told me it had to be approved by Xerox lawyers. I heard the noon siren as Kelcy started putting all her things back in her case. When I saw her start to bend over I made sure I got at least a bit of a look myself. The best description I can give is that I was looking at a nice, tight package even if I couldn't discern a panty line. As I watched her walk across the lobby floor for the back door Trish got my eye and made a face. Caught!
When Bret got back from lunch we compared notes. He thought he was the 'winner' until I told him of the 'magic triangle'... and the final look I had. But, we both smiled as Trish shook her finger at us.
To be continued…
The only thing worse than going to work on a Monday morning is to have your secretary tell you, before you even reach your desk, that the president wants to see you. It took a few seconds for that to sink in but when climbing the stairs it came to me that it wasn’t even 9am… and Bert almost never arrived before 9:15am. Hobie wasn’t there to at least give me an idea what I was facing. I walked up to the door to his office with an open, but wary, mind. I’ve described Bert before, and he was, by nature, a very calm and sincere individual. Walking in I could see he had a very different look on his face. He wasted no time telling me that the Chairman of the Board of Trustees had suffered a stroke and was in ICU at the hospital. Naturally, my first reaction was concern for the man and his family. Past that I wondered why I was summoned. There was nothing for me to say so I just stood there like a statue waiting for his next words. But his phone rang and when it did he waved his hand to dismiss me. As a junior officer I seldom had any contact with the chairman. I couldn’t quite connect why Bert had felt the need to single me out for the news.
It didn’t take long for the general business of the day to take my mind off of the ailing chairman. Trish handed me a couple of notes with one being from the Xerox office. It told me that a Kelcy would be there to see me around 10am. I’d had in mind to go check out what space was available after the 3M machine was removed. It was located in just about the most inconvenient space in the whole bank… a small room that held most of the working file cabinets for the accounting department… and where Moira had been relegated to work. I’d had little contact with her for a while and assumed things were going well for her. As soon as I appeared in the doorway she looked up and smiled. Even though I didn’t want to I asked and got way more information than I wanted. I can’t say I didn’t care because I really did. I’d invested a fair amount of time trying to help her out so in spite of the pressure of time before Kelcy (I didn’t know if it was male or female) showed up I stood there and listened.
Basically, Gee (the Trustee/attorney) had been able to track her husband down and had filed papers on her behalf for a divorce. There was a fair chance that he might co-operate. The big thing she was hoping for was that she’d get some money back from the house they’d bought and found they never got the title to it. One thing I got from the conversation was in seeing her with an ‘easy’ smile. She really was an attractive woman but with all her trials and tribulations it seldom showed. I finally had to excuse myself without garnering the information it needed about space for the Xerox.
Kelcy was female… definitely female! It was good thing I’d seen her walking across the lobby before she showed up at my desk or I would've embarrassed myself. Definitely ‘with it’ as far as dress (white blouse with lace around the collar and a light gray pencil skirt) and appearance was concerned. She stuck out her hand and I wasn’t expecting the grip I got. Her long brown hair was all draped over one shoulder and covered one of her breasts. Big green eyes with what we now call ‘pouty’ lips finished off what I called “the city look”. When she spoke her first words I did a bit of a ‘double take’. Her voice was deeper than a lot of the males I knew. It didn’t take long to figure out she knew her ‘stuff’. However, I couldn’t answer her most important questions about the type and volume of copies the bank made. That made it difficult. I got a quick education on types of machines and features. After a short while I could see she was getting frustrated with me. To put an end to it I asked if it were possible to lease a small one just to get us started and then to move a larger one if the volume showed it necessary.
I don’t know if it was that she wanted to help me out or that she was ‘under the gun’ to get a contract signed but she said she’d work something out. She left to get some paperwork from her car and when she returned put a fair sized leather case on the floor and, still standing, proceeded to bend over and rifle through some folders. Her backside was facing Bret and I happened to catch him looking at it. Then, when he saw me he bugged his eyes out to let me know he’d had a good view. There was nothing I could do to catch a glimpse so just sat and waited for her to come up the the contract papers.
Because it wasn’t a standard Xerox contract she had to make a number of calls to her office for clearance. Bret had left his desk so I told her to sit in his chair and use his phone. I was reading the lease papers when I heard her call my name. I looked up and saw her start to spin the chair around and when she did she put one foot on the floor and pushed off with it. When she did I saw the ‘magic triangle’. It was for only a second but I immediately felt that I’d done better than Bret had with his view.
What I ended up signing was a ‘provisional’ contract. I’d never heard of one before but Kelcy told me it had to be approved by Xerox lawyers. I heard the noon siren as Kelcy started putting all her things back in her case. When I saw her start to bend over I made sure I got at least a bit of a look myself. The best description I can give is that I was looking at a nice, tight package even if I couldn't discern a panty line. As I watched her walk across the lobby floor for the back door Trish got my eye and made a face. Caught!
When Bret got back from lunch we compared notes. He thought he was the 'winner' until I told him of the 'magic triangle'... and the final look I had. But, we both smiled as Trish shook her finger at us.
To be continued…
Tuesday, June 06, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY ...life goes on (Part 159i)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159i)
At the track entrance to the pit area we found a long line of race cars waiting to get in. Cliffy left the hauler and went to see what the problem was. He was back after a short time and reported the race promoter had decided to re-assign pit spaces and that was holding everything up. By the time we got in a half hour had passed and warm-ups were scheduled to start momentarily. The first thing we noticed was that the number one pit space was occupied by C J, the guy who was the reigning track champion from the track where I used to drive. That didn’t set too well with Cliffy even though he and C J were fairly good friends. He wasn’t the only one upset as some of the ‘old timers’ had been displaced from their traditional spots. At least we were close to where we’d been and Cliffy knew the driver assigned to pit next to us. He was an older, very quiet man but still very competitive. I remembered seeing him race when I was half the age I was right there. He went by the nick name of ‘Pee Wee’ because of his short stature. From what I understood the other drivers respected him but had a problem with his wife who, supposedly, had, over time, verbal confrontations with just about everybody. Mrs. ‘Pee Wee’ was a bleached blond and wore clothes not normally seen in a race track pit area. A bona fide ‘character’.
After unloading the race car Dick went over to the office to pick up our winnings from the previous Saturday night… $1000 cash. In a way it was bittersweet because now we had money for tires but none of the tires we wanted were available. However, we all agreed it was nice to have the money in hand. In preparing for opening night we’d not looked beyond it. Not very smart but here we were ready to go again. Loosing practice time didn’t upset Cliffy because he wanted to save the tires for the races. When he did get out on the track it was for only a few laps. When he came off the his comment was something like “It’s going to be a long night”.
On opening night we’d all been satisfied to stay around our car. After we’d won everybody had come over to see us. I’d not had a real chance to look over the competition and since we only went out for one practice session I decided to ‘make the rounds’. With CJ’s car now parked in the same row it made sense to go visit with his father, “Seeg”. It was a chance to get caught up a bit and allowed me to congratulate him on CJ’s championships at the other track. In the course of conversation I found out what had prompted the re-alignment of the pit stalls… it was about C J. The track promoter looked at C J like a prize catch, stealing the multi time track champion from his closest track competitor. And… to promote him he wanted him to have the most visible pit stall where the fans could look through the fence to see C J and to, hopefully, get an autograph.
While talking with Seeg I saw something I’d pretty much forgotten about… his fan club. It had been started right after he began racing. A group of girls had started it. They had T-shirts made up with C J’s car number and name emblazoned across the back. His car was all white with a big red number one on it. So, the fan club members made white their primary color. All the females wore white pants to go with the white T-shirts with red printing. As I stood there watching some of them flit around I saw a girl I remembered from back then. It took a minute or two for it to ‘click’ in my brain but I was sure I’d met her up at Seeg’s farm back when he’d given me a motor. She’d matured quite a bit and was definitely a ‘looker’. Without being obvious I asked Seeg who she was and was told she was C J’s girlfriend. I figured “Lucky him!” She, like the others, was wearing white pants but they weren’t jeans like most of the others. What I noticed about them was there were no back pockets. That meant an unobstructed VPL and, she had a beauty!
In seeing it my brain went into overtime. I was sure she had to be wearing a pair of VanRaalte panties because of the size of it of the crotch line. The only other I’d seen that had even come close were some early Kayser panties. But, on the newest ones I’d noticed the crotch had been materially reduced. As I’ve written many times before, one of the biggest thrills for me was to know just who made the panties of any woman/girl I was looking at. I would’ve bet money on her’s being VanRaalte.
Walking away I saw C J pulling off the track and into his stall. Right above the windshield I could see the name “Karen” painted. Then, more of it came back to me. Back at the farm I’d been told that the young girl hanging around was a distant cousin from Poland and her name was Karen. I began to wonder if C J was dating a relative. It wasn’t that far fetched because I’d been to a few local Polish weddings where second cousins had been married. I couldn’t help but wonder if C J and Karen hadn’t gotten ‘cozy’ way back when she moved in with the family. In any case, I knew I was going to like hanging around C J’s pit during the Summer.
The racing for us that night was terrible. Cliffy qualified for the main event but it was obvious that he’d used up whatever was left of the tires during the qualifying. It seemed like no matter what Cliffy did the car wanted to go for the outside wall. He bounced of a lot of different cars before the end. One of two good things was that he avoided the big crash. Later, upon inspection in the pits, there didn’t seem to be any major damage. The other was that he got a promise from the tire dealer to have three new tires available for the following week. Because of the demand for the new tires he'd raised the price $10 per tire. However, because we’d been the one to try them first he agreed to keep the original price, just for us. $30 today doesn’t sound like much but in 1968, it was a lot!
To be continued…
At the track entrance to the pit area we found a long line of race cars waiting to get in. Cliffy left the hauler and went to see what the problem was. He was back after a short time and reported the race promoter had decided to re-assign pit spaces and that was holding everything up. By the time we got in a half hour had passed and warm-ups were scheduled to start momentarily. The first thing we noticed was that the number one pit space was occupied by C J, the guy who was the reigning track champion from the track where I used to drive. That didn’t set too well with Cliffy even though he and C J were fairly good friends. He wasn’t the only one upset as some of the ‘old timers’ had been displaced from their traditional spots. At least we were close to where we’d been and Cliffy knew the driver assigned to pit next to us. He was an older, very quiet man but still very competitive. I remembered seeing him race when I was half the age I was right there. He went by the nick name of ‘Pee Wee’ because of his short stature. From what I understood the other drivers respected him but had a problem with his wife who, supposedly, had, over time, verbal confrontations with just about everybody. Mrs. ‘Pee Wee’ was a bleached blond and wore clothes not normally seen in a race track pit area. A bona fide ‘character’.
After unloading the race car Dick went over to the office to pick up our winnings from the previous Saturday night… $1000 cash. In a way it was bittersweet because now we had money for tires but none of the tires we wanted were available. However, we all agreed it was nice to have the money in hand. In preparing for opening night we’d not looked beyond it. Not very smart but here we were ready to go again. Loosing practice time didn’t upset Cliffy because he wanted to save the tires for the races. When he did get out on the track it was for only a few laps. When he came off the his comment was something like “It’s going to be a long night”.
On opening night we’d all been satisfied to stay around our car. After we’d won everybody had come over to see us. I’d not had a real chance to look over the competition and since we only went out for one practice session I decided to ‘make the rounds’. With CJ’s car now parked in the same row it made sense to go visit with his father, “Seeg”. It was a chance to get caught up a bit and allowed me to congratulate him on CJ’s championships at the other track. In the course of conversation I found out what had prompted the re-alignment of the pit stalls… it was about C J. The track promoter looked at C J like a prize catch, stealing the multi time track champion from his closest track competitor. And… to promote him he wanted him to have the most visible pit stall where the fans could look through the fence to see C J and to, hopefully, get an autograph.
While talking with Seeg I saw something I’d pretty much forgotten about… his fan club. It had been started right after he began racing. A group of girls had started it. They had T-shirts made up with C J’s car number and name emblazoned across the back. His car was all white with a big red number one on it. So, the fan club members made white their primary color. All the females wore white pants to go with the white T-shirts with red printing. As I stood there watching some of them flit around I saw a girl I remembered from back then. It took a minute or two for it to ‘click’ in my brain but I was sure I’d met her up at Seeg’s farm back when he’d given me a motor. She’d matured quite a bit and was definitely a ‘looker’. Without being obvious I asked Seeg who she was and was told she was C J’s girlfriend. I figured “Lucky him!” She, like the others, was wearing white pants but they weren’t jeans like most of the others. What I noticed about them was there were no back pockets. That meant an unobstructed VPL and, she had a beauty!
In seeing it my brain went into overtime. I was sure she had to be wearing a pair of VanRaalte panties because of the size of it of the crotch line. The only other I’d seen that had even come close were some early Kayser panties. But, on the newest ones I’d noticed the crotch had been materially reduced. As I’ve written many times before, one of the biggest thrills for me was to know just who made the panties of any woman/girl I was looking at. I would’ve bet money on her’s being VanRaalte.
Walking away I saw C J pulling off the track and into his stall. Right above the windshield I could see the name “Karen” painted. Then, more of it came back to me. Back at the farm I’d been told that the young girl hanging around was a distant cousin from Poland and her name was Karen. I began to wonder if C J was dating a relative. It wasn’t that far fetched because I’d been to a few local Polish weddings where second cousins had been married. I couldn’t help but wonder if C J and Karen hadn’t gotten ‘cozy’ way back when she moved in with the family. In any case, I knew I was going to like hanging around C J’s pit during the Summer.
The racing for us that night was terrible. Cliffy qualified for the main event but it was obvious that he’d used up whatever was left of the tires during the qualifying. It seemed like no matter what Cliffy did the car wanted to go for the outside wall. He bounced of a lot of different cars before the end. One of two good things was that he avoided the big crash. Later, upon inspection in the pits, there didn’t seem to be any major damage. The other was that he got a promise from the tire dealer to have three new tires available for the following week. Because of the demand for the new tires he'd raised the price $10 per tire. However, because we’d been the one to try them first he agreed to keep the original price, just for us. $30 today doesn’t sound like much but in 1968, it was a lot!
To be continued…
Sunday, June 04, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159h)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159h)
There were two choices… voice my displeasure and risk having Hobie upset with me or… not saying anything and walking away. I chose the latter. Hobie had been fair with me and cut me some slack from time to time. Jerry wasn’t worth risking that relationship. As I remember it I spent most of Friday researching a place to hold interviews and finally choosing a fairly well known restaurant in the biggest town close to where the branch was located. Doing it, I was somewhat intrigued by the fact that there was no savings institution located in the village itself. I didn’t know the population but it was more than twice the size of the village the main office of the bank was located. To me, it seemed like a better place for a branch than where the Board chose to go. In any case, with the interview location identified I contacted the ad agency to create and place the want-ad. I was told to use the information Jerry had prepared which also galled me. The ad called for three tellers and an assistant branch manager. There was one point I was able to make in this matter and that was to keep the salaries consistent with the main office. The ads were to run for the next two weeks and I wasn’t too excited about what Jerry would choose for his staff.
Because the race car had escaped relatively unscathed on opening night there wasn’t too much to be done with it. Cliffy and Alan had come to the garage one night during the week and checked the suspension out. The rest of us showed up Friday night to load the car and equipment onto the hauler. Because I was the new guy I didn’t have a set job so pretty much just stood around and watched the others. The conversation centered around tires… or the lack of them. Since we were among the first to try the new type there was no history as to how they would perform on a second night of racing or for how long they’d even last. We didn’t have any choice so when we left for home there was a fair amount of doubt.
Because we’d loaded the car Friday night it meant I had until about 3pm on Saturday for chores and time for family. As I remember it, the weather was perfect… for just about anything. The month of May can be a crapshoot when it comes to temperature. The reason I remember it was that when I got back from the landfill Elle was waiting for me with our tennis rackets. Not my first choice for something to do but Elle had been ‘quiet’ as far as the race car was concerned so it behooved me to bow to her wishes. She wasn’t wearing a tennis outfit but had on bermuda shorts… which gave off a very nice VPL… so that was a plus.
It only took a few minutes at the courts for me to see Elle wasn’t wearing ‘dribble’ panties. Two crotch panty lines gave that away even before we started. I wanted to know why but I also knew she didn’t like to talk about her choices so kept my mouth shut. That’s why I liked to pick out the ones she wore but I was out of the house when she got dressed. Either way, ‘dribble’ panties or two pair, any dribble would show with the tight shorts she had on. My mind was already thinking about what I might be able to get when we were finished playing. It had been a while since I’d ‘negotiated’ anything in the way of wetness so I felt pretty good as we started hitting the balls.
It was obvious from the start that my tennis hadn’t improved. We didn’t attempt to play a game and just hit balls back and forth. We’d dropped our girls off at Elle’s mother’s to make cookies for a Sunday school party the next day so I knew that would favor me. But, as it turned out I didn’t have to say or do a thing. We played for around an hour and she’d not had a problem. We were picking up our things and I was admiring the double VPL when I saw our school board friend, Bob, approaching. I was already anticipating what I might get when we got home so the sight of him, at that moment, did not make me overly happy. Approaching I could see he had some colored papers in his hand. I’d been asked to run for the board and turned it down so figured that he had flyers to promote someone who’d accepted. It wasn’t what I’d thought but was to announce a special meeting of parents. I’d been vaguely aware that there was a movement to have the board buy some portable classrooms to cut down on classroom overcrowding. However, the board had rejected the idea and a fair number of parents wanted to protest, complete with a petition. Naturally, we had a discussion. I don’t know how long it lasted but I felt Elle hit my arm and when I looked at her she was rolling her eyes towards the parking lot. I pretty much knew what was about to happen…
At the car I asked if she’d ‘leaked’ and she said it was only a dribble. From the school to home was at least five minutes and I knew she’d never make it so I suggested she squat by the car. Bob was still in sight so she just shook her head from side to side. I always had towels under the seat and she pulled one out and jumped in. But, she did something I’d not really seen her do before and that was to jam her hand into her crotch. She stayed that way on the way home and all the way into the kitchen. In spite of my protests she headed straight for the bathroom. I followed but she managed to pull the shorts down and was peeing through the panties. No need to tell you but I took advantage of that opportunity even though it wasn’t what I’d hoped for. However, I did manage to cajole a picture of her with her damp shorts on.
To be continued...
There were two choices… voice my displeasure and risk having Hobie upset with me or… not saying anything and walking away. I chose the latter. Hobie had been fair with me and cut me some slack from time to time. Jerry wasn’t worth risking that relationship. As I remember it I spent most of Friday researching a place to hold interviews and finally choosing a fairly well known restaurant in the biggest town close to where the branch was located. Doing it, I was somewhat intrigued by the fact that there was no savings institution located in the village itself. I didn’t know the population but it was more than twice the size of the village the main office of the bank was located. To me, it seemed like a better place for a branch than where the Board chose to go. In any case, with the interview location identified I contacted the ad agency to create and place the want-ad. I was told to use the information Jerry had prepared which also galled me. The ad called for three tellers and an assistant branch manager. There was one point I was able to make in this matter and that was to keep the salaries consistent with the main office. The ads were to run for the next two weeks and I wasn’t too excited about what Jerry would choose for his staff.
Because the race car had escaped relatively unscathed on opening night there wasn’t too much to be done with it. Cliffy and Alan had come to the garage one night during the week and checked the suspension out. The rest of us showed up Friday night to load the car and equipment onto the hauler. Because I was the new guy I didn’t have a set job so pretty much just stood around and watched the others. The conversation centered around tires… or the lack of them. Since we were among the first to try the new type there was no history as to how they would perform on a second night of racing or for how long they’d even last. We didn’t have any choice so when we left for home there was a fair amount of doubt.
Because we’d loaded the car Friday night it meant I had until about 3pm on Saturday for chores and time for family. As I remember it, the weather was perfect… for just about anything. The month of May can be a crapshoot when it comes to temperature. The reason I remember it was that when I got back from the landfill Elle was waiting for me with our tennis rackets. Not my first choice for something to do but Elle had been ‘quiet’ as far as the race car was concerned so it behooved me to bow to her wishes. She wasn’t wearing a tennis outfit but had on bermuda shorts… which gave off a very nice VPL… so that was a plus.
It only took a few minutes at the courts for me to see Elle wasn’t wearing ‘dribble’ panties. Two crotch panty lines gave that away even before we started. I wanted to know why but I also knew she didn’t like to talk about her choices so kept my mouth shut. That’s why I liked to pick out the ones she wore but I was out of the house when she got dressed. Either way, ‘dribble’ panties or two pair, any dribble would show with the tight shorts she had on. My mind was already thinking about what I might be able to get when we were finished playing. It had been a while since I’d ‘negotiated’ anything in the way of wetness so I felt pretty good as we started hitting the balls.
It was obvious from the start that my tennis hadn’t improved. We didn’t attempt to play a game and just hit balls back and forth. We’d dropped our girls off at Elle’s mother’s to make cookies for a Sunday school party the next day so I knew that would favor me. But, as it turned out I didn’t have to say or do a thing. We played for around an hour and she’d not had a problem. We were picking up our things and I was admiring the double VPL when I saw our school board friend, Bob, approaching. I was already anticipating what I might get when we got home so the sight of him, at that moment, did not make me overly happy. Approaching I could see he had some colored papers in his hand. I’d been asked to run for the board and turned it down so figured that he had flyers to promote someone who’d accepted. It wasn’t what I’d thought but was to announce a special meeting of parents. I’d been vaguely aware that there was a movement to have the board buy some portable classrooms to cut down on classroom overcrowding. However, the board had rejected the idea and a fair number of parents wanted to protest, complete with a petition. Naturally, we had a discussion. I don’t know how long it lasted but I felt Elle hit my arm and when I looked at her she was rolling her eyes towards the parking lot. I pretty much knew what was about to happen…
At the car I asked if she’d ‘leaked’ and she said it was only a dribble. From the school to home was at least five minutes and I knew she’d never make it so I suggested she squat by the car. Bob was still in sight so she just shook her head from side to side. I always had towels under the seat and she pulled one out and jumped in. But, she did something I’d not really seen her do before and that was to jam her hand into her crotch. She stayed that way on the way home and all the way into the kitchen. In spite of my protests she headed straight for the bathroom. I followed but she managed to pull the shorts down and was peeing through the panties. No need to tell you but I took advantage of that opportunity even though it wasn’t what I’d hoped for. However, I did manage to cajole a picture of her with her damp shorts on.
 | |
| ... it was better than none... |
Friday, June 02, 2017
MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159g)
MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159g)
We walked into the room with me leading Norman. I’d cleared a table in the front of the room for him to lay out his materials and when we were halfway there heard a Board member call out and ask “Can we see a picture of what our new phones will look like?” It didn’t register with either of us right away and Norman slowed a bit to respond. When he did it was to say he’d have to get it from the material he was carrying. When he reached the table he pulled out the actual presentation folio he’d prepared for me, turned to the page, folded it back and gave it to the Trustee who'd spoken up. As soon as he did a couple of others asked if he had copies of it for all the members. The question caught him by surprise and before he could attempt to answer Bert (the president) spoke up and stated Norman had not come prepared for a group and didn’t have copies to hand out. That’s when I heard the not so dulcet tones of “Polack Joe” calling out for someone to make copies. As I’ve written any number of times before, the bank had a wet copy 3M copy machine that made extremely poor copies and it took ‘forever’ to make just one. As soon as he spoke I knew it wasn’t possible but I certainly didn’t want to be the one to speak up and tell him. I was in a position to catch Hobie’s eye. Thankfully, he jumped in to explain. He wasn’t even finished explaining when Joe shot out something like ‘You mean you don’t have a Xerox machine?” When Hobie answered that we didn’t he came right back with “Why not?” For the next few minutes the conversation centered around copy machines. I remember looking at Norman and kind of shaking my head. The end result was I was charged with contacting Xerox and to pursue a contract for one of their copiers.
With that settled Bert introduced Norman who told a little about Northern Telecom. As soon as he mentioned it was a Canadian company Joe wanted to know why we were even talking to a “foreign” company. That prompted the Chairman of the Board to respond. He was in poor health and rarely said much. He was more like a figurehead and even though I’d rarely interacted with him I was surprised by what he said and how he said it. In essence he questioned Joe’s motivation for the question and noted that he’d not said anything when Bert had just spoken about the presentation just a few minutes prior. Then he said that it didn’t matter and pointed back at Norman and told him to continue with his presentation.
Not to drag it out but what had happened prior to our entering the room was that Bert had made a case for the Board to approve an expenditure of up to $17,000 for the Northern Telecom system. Then it came back to me that it was the reason for the Trustee making the statement about “our new phones”. Bert had already sold them on the need and now Norman was selling them on the system. I watched Joe who just sat there staring off into space. My thoughts at that time were consistent about the Board as a whole… why did they ever choose him?
When we walked out of the room Norman was very, very excited. At the bottom of the stairs he told me that this sale put him in line for regional salesman of the month. As for me all I wanted was to get the installation started. Going out the door he assured me that he’d shepherd the installation through to completion. I felt good about the way the day had gone.
The next day I made contact with Xerox. When I told Trish about it she didn’t believe me. I’d asked a couple of times why the bank had resisted getting a Xerox copier and all I’d been told was that my predecessor had been “duped” into buying the 3M product and, with the money invested, they refused to consider Xerox. As I told Trish about how it all came about she laughed. I’d been too surprised when it happened to see the humor in it. The Xerox office servicing our area had only been open for a short time and was still trying to fully staff it. I was told that they would have someone at the bank on Monday but couldn’t tell me the salesperson’s name. I didn’t care as long as they showed up.
I was feeling pretty good with two ‘wins’ but was brought back to reality when Hobie called me over to his desk. I thought it was to discuss what had happened at the meeting and I was partially right. After Norman and I’d left another item that wasn’t on the agenda was discussed. It had to do with staffing the new branch. The very first thought was that Jerry had gotten in touch with one of the Trustees… and I was right. I desperately wanted to know who he was aligned with so, again, asked Hobie. If he knew he wouldn’t say. What Hobie wanted was for me to make arrangements with a motel to hold interviews and then to get want ads placed in all the area media. Because we were discussing the hiring I asked if I was to do the interviews. I distinctly remember him shaking his head in a negative manner. Just the thought of Jerry doing interviews with absolutely no experience made me speak up to protest. His response reminded me of when I’d proposed Gina to be the chief clerk… not good!
To be continued…
We walked into the room with me leading Norman. I’d cleared a table in the front of the room for him to lay out his materials and when we were halfway there heard a Board member call out and ask “Can we see a picture of what our new phones will look like?” It didn’t register with either of us right away and Norman slowed a bit to respond. When he did it was to say he’d have to get it from the material he was carrying. When he reached the table he pulled out the actual presentation folio he’d prepared for me, turned to the page, folded it back and gave it to the Trustee who'd spoken up. As soon as he did a couple of others asked if he had copies of it for all the members. The question caught him by surprise and before he could attempt to answer Bert (the president) spoke up and stated Norman had not come prepared for a group and didn’t have copies to hand out. That’s when I heard the not so dulcet tones of “Polack Joe” calling out for someone to make copies. As I’ve written any number of times before, the bank had a wet copy 3M copy machine that made extremely poor copies and it took ‘forever’ to make just one. As soon as he spoke I knew it wasn’t possible but I certainly didn’t want to be the one to speak up and tell him. I was in a position to catch Hobie’s eye. Thankfully, he jumped in to explain. He wasn’t even finished explaining when Joe shot out something like ‘You mean you don’t have a Xerox machine?” When Hobie answered that we didn’t he came right back with “Why not?” For the next few minutes the conversation centered around copy machines. I remember looking at Norman and kind of shaking my head. The end result was I was charged with contacting Xerox and to pursue a contract for one of their copiers.
With that settled Bert introduced Norman who told a little about Northern Telecom. As soon as he mentioned it was a Canadian company Joe wanted to know why we were even talking to a “foreign” company. That prompted the Chairman of the Board to respond. He was in poor health and rarely said much. He was more like a figurehead and even though I’d rarely interacted with him I was surprised by what he said and how he said it. In essence he questioned Joe’s motivation for the question and noted that he’d not said anything when Bert had just spoken about the presentation just a few minutes prior. Then he said that it didn’t matter and pointed back at Norman and told him to continue with his presentation.
Not to drag it out but what had happened prior to our entering the room was that Bert had made a case for the Board to approve an expenditure of up to $17,000 for the Northern Telecom system. Then it came back to me that it was the reason for the Trustee making the statement about “our new phones”. Bert had already sold them on the need and now Norman was selling them on the system. I watched Joe who just sat there staring off into space. My thoughts at that time were consistent about the Board as a whole… why did they ever choose him?
When we walked out of the room Norman was very, very excited. At the bottom of the stairs he told me that this sale put him in line for regional salesman of the month. As for me all I wanted was to get the installation started. Going out the door he assured me that he’d shepherd the installation through to completion. I felt good about the way the day had gone.
The next day I made contact with Xerox. When I told Trish about it she didn’t believe me. I’d asked a couple of times why the bank had resisted getting a Xerox copier and all I’d been told was that my predecessor had been “duped” into buying the 3M product and, with the money invested, they refused to consider Xerox. As I told Trish about how it all came about she laughed. I’d been too surprised when it happened to see the humor in it. The Xerox office servicing our area had only been open for a short time and was still trying to fully staff it. I was told that they would have someone at the bank on Monday but couldn’t tell me the salesperson’s name. I didn’t care as long as they showed up.
I was feeling pretty good with two ‘wins’ but was brought back to reality when Hobie called me over to his desk. I thought it was to discuss what had happened at the meeting and I was partially right. After Norman and I’d left another item that wasn’t on the agenda was discussed. It had to do with staffing the new branch. The very first thought was that Jerry had gotten in touch with one of the Trustees… and I was right. I desperately wanted to know who he was aligned with so, again, asked Hobie. If he knew he wouldn’t say. What Hobie wanted was for me to make arrangements with a motel to hold interviews and then to get want ads placed in all the area media. Because we were discussing the hiring I asked if I was to do the interviews. I distinctly remember him shaking his head in a negative manner. Just the thought of Jerry doing interviews with absolutely no experience made me speak up to protest. His response reminded me of when I’d proposed Gina to be the chief clerk… not good!
To be continued…
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