Building a wood crate (Peep hole in the garage)

     Sometimes as kids (age 12) we were influenced by others and this time in our lives the Our Gang Comedies were popular, so I’m not sure if it was an original idea to start a club (LMB club - Initials from our last names) and build a wooden crate car or an outgrowth of the Our Gang Series. Nevertheless we started a club and attempted to build a wood crate car, we used my Dad’s garage, which was in the alley and not being used for a car.  Most garages in the city were accessed through the alley but they were built to hold smaller cars and were not usually used for cars when I grew up.  My Dad said go ahead use the garage for your project which we did but we were messy, boards and nails laying all over the place (OSHA would not approve). 

     One day when Frank, Reinhard (Rein) and I were working in the garage, I stepped on a board that had a nail driven in it that pointed straight up, well it went straight through the bottom of my foot. I was immediately taken to the doctor for a Tetanus shot.  That was a tough lesson in organization and the advantages of keeping a clean work area. 

     After my recovery from the nail incident we continued our project but with a little more attention paid to neatness.  The garage was technically our clubhouse as well as where we worked on our crate.  Building a wood crate is fun but sometimes kids loose their focus and get bored with the mundane task of a project so as a kid it's natural to come up with something else to fill in the void.   

     Well, one day while Frank and I were working on the crate, Rein thought it was important to look out for intruders and proceeded to drill a hole (peep hole) in the garage wall using a hand drill provided by my Dad, which seemed to make sense to all of us since we wanted to see if anyone was sneaking up on us.   Logic to an adolescent is much different than an adult and although we didn’t have any enemies to sneak up on us it still seemed logical to be prepared as the boy scouts say.  But if one peep hole was good then multiple holes would even be better so Rein thought why not 2 or 3.  Again this explanation did not sit well with my Dad as he did not agree with our reasoning or the excessive number of holes drilled in the side of the garage. We were allowed to continue with a project but given stern instructions to leave the garage in tact with no more modifications.  We did eventually finish the crate with some help and enjoyed pushing each other down the alley until we got bored and moved on to some other activity. 

Katy Trail Ride (2nd Night) Globe Cowboy Hotel (The Best Prank…ever)

Our 2^nd night after biking all day, we stayed at the Globe Hotel in Hartsburg.  It looked like an old western hotel that you might see in John Wayne movies with 3 floors.  The owner (a lady that was a retired medical scientist) had a small living room (10’ x 10’) in the front of the house with a couch on one side and a bookcase on the opposite side with a small TV that could get approximately 2 & 1/3 channels (that’s estimating on the high side).  Her personal living quarters were right next to the living room and down the hall was the kitchen. 

When we first arrived she was holding and petting her cat and she gave us our room number and showed us the living room, kitchen and 2^nd floor shared bathroom, which is the same floor.  The bathroom was massive with a lot of empty space.  We chatted briefly which is how we found out she was a retired medical scientist while still petting her cat she explained in a very clear and direct manner that the 3^rd floor was strictly off limits and not to go up there. Well obviously she knows about cats but she doesn’t know a lot about guys.  Never, I mean never tell guys that they can absolutely not do something.  What she doesn’t understand is that warnings to guys are often just challenges, what we really heard her saying was “You don’t have the gonads to go up to the 3^rd floor”.  She then went on to elaborate that the previous owner used to have a Gentleman’s Club on the 3^rd floor.  Well that was her 2^nd mistake, what was she thinking telling us about the Gentleman’s Club, how enticing was that, maybe she thought we were a couple (to steal a phrase from Sienfield ) “Not that there’s anything wrong with that”, right no we’re just a couple of goof balls.

After settling in our room (that’s right we shared a room but separate beds), we toured the tiny town and got some dinner then went back to the Globe to watch some TV.   We ran into the owner again and while she (still petting her cat) said we were welcome to watch TV or read as long as we wanted.  By this time we were convinced she was the crazy cat lady with and advanced medical degree and the capability to dissect creatures.  We sat in the living room laughing and making jokes about our situation and our landlord while we did our best to find something on the TV but it was hopeless when you found something it provided no entertainment and the signal would soon fade away, so you would end up watching fuzz.

I decided to look through the books and John went upstairs to call Cindy (his wife).  A little later John came back down and after fidgeting with the TV some more we decided to go to bed after all it was a long day we road about 60 miles and we were tired.  Still somewhat distracted by our outrageous imagination of the cat lady’s exploits I looked on my bed to find a hand written note.  The note said “You have a nicely shaped head, what size hat do you wear”.  My eyes grew I’m sure as big as grapefruits then I immediately turned to John across the room and said “I got a note, did you get a note”.  John doing a good job of holding his composure said “Note, No? What does it say?”  So I read it to him then he came over to read it himself and finally he could no longer hold it in and bust out laughing.  Well, I immediately knew that I had been duped, John wrote the note when he was upstairs talking to his wife.  He had really sucked me into this prank but we laughed on and off for hours constantly watching the door (we had flashlights) because even though there was a lock, it didn’t work.  The doors were warped with big gaps at various places around the door so even if they could have been locked it wouldn’t have been very secure but it seemed to add to the adventure.  We had really freaked ourselves out, but finally fell asleep.

The next morning after showering (separately I might add) we decided we would explore the forbidden 3^rd floor before going down to breakfast.  So, with flashlights in hand we tried to quietly climb the steps to the 3^rd floor but this was an old hotel and being quite was not an option.  I remember going first and John urging me forward.  The 3^rd floor was just a big room with an entry door that opened like a cellar door that you pushed open.  I pushed the door open and to our disappointment there were no skeletons or carcasses just boxes, old furniture and junk.  Nothing even from the debunked Gentleman’s Club, what a bust or not even a bust.  Oh well at least we satisfied our curiosity.

So, we headed downstairs for breakfast and boy were we hungry.  We expected a John Wayne breakfast after all this was a cowboy hotel.  So we sit down to eat and she brings out a spinach muffin and a hard-boiled egg, are you kidding me, how can we make to lunch on an egg and a muffin.  I ate the muffin and left the egg, John ate both but we both broke out the power bars shortly after we hit the trail.

Please visit TwistedCorkscrew if you are looking for unique wine accessories. 

Executive Lunch at BAE

While on one of my first trips to BAE (British Aerospace) with a fellow McDonnell Douglas employee (Terry) we were invited to the Executive dining room for lunch.  Neither of us were seasoned international travelers so we were duly impressed that we were invited this fine dining experience by BAE.   The dining room tables had white tablecloths and white cloth napkins with proper English waitresses that spoke with an elegant accent.  We both tried to act like this was normal for us so we were careful to use the utensils properly and try not to make fools out of ourselves. 

     Everything was going along swimmingly (notice the use of English slang) and after having a nice lunch and coffee in these extremely small cups (the English use brown sugar in their coffee) the waitress came around to ask us about dessert.  What’s important to know is that the English have an interesting use of words which differ from the US English version plus they have a different dry quirky sense of humor (Monty Python).  Speaking to us first since we were guest she announce the first dessert choice, I believe she said “Today we have spotted dick”.  At that time if you looked close you could have seen both of our eyes bulge out.  Now, what goes through your mind when you here about this dessert choice.  I know what I thought, (I don’t think I want that, No that’s not right, I’m sure I don’t want that).  I hesitate to ask but what other choices do I have and don’t tell me about your personal problems.  But without asking maybe because of our hesitation she offered us the 2^nd choice, which, was ice cream and at that point without any prompting Terry and I glanced at each other and immediately exclaimed “Ice Cream”.    What we should be asking at this point is there anything we should know about the ingredients in this ice cream?  Were our British friends pranking us?

    As it turns out the dessert “spotted dick” is a pudding, but why in the (bloody) hell would you choose that name for any type of food.  Well, that’s what’s interesting about traveling, words have different meanings, some words offensive in one culture are not in another in fact they may have a totally different meaning.

So sit back and enjoy your pudding while visiting TwistedCorkscrew to check out all the cool wine accessories.

Popsicles in the alley

When I was just a young boy, maybe 7 or 8, we played outside all day long and never really paid much attention to the time unless our stomachs told us it was time to eat.  After eating I would immediately go back outside to play with my buddies.  Well one evening after supper I met up with Jim and Frank, we hung out didn’t do anything particularly interesting or exciting just goofed off.  We checked to see how much money we had and decided if we pooled it together there was enough to buy some popsicles so of course we did. 

We lived in the city (Walnut Park), which was a blue collar neighborhood where kids roamed free without concern and many neighbors became friends.  There were streets and alleys behind the houses which is where you would find us most of the time.  We would walk all over town using the alleys instead of streets even when we were alone, sometimes the alleys were scary but we did it anyway, it is just the way it was.  Anyway I got sidetracked, after we bought the popsicles we sat in the alley to eat them (where else would we go) and sat around telling stories.  As I previously said we frequently lost track of time as we did that night.  Little did we know that our parents had been looking all over for us and were just about ready to call the police, because it was 10:00 pm and we should have been home long ago.  

Our parents weren’t as familiar with the alleys as we were so that was not the first place they looked, if at all.  In fact as I remember it we were discovered as we walked out of the alley on our way back home to a bit of hysterical screaming and hollering, but our explanation that we were just eating popsicles did not satisfy our parents.  Obviously, our parents were scared and nervous and they told us what we did was dangerous but popsicles aren’t dangerous, unless you eat a couple dozen, I guess they were talking about something else, adults were hard to figure out. 

Peep Peep the City Chicken

My uncle Clarence took me to a carnival and he won the game that you knock down milk bottles with a baseball.  So he ask me what I wanted for a prize $1.00 or a baby chick.  Well, I thought who wouldn’t want a baby chick so I picked a purple one. They came in a variety of colors (Pink, Purple, Green, Orange and of course Yellow).  It was an easy decision and I knew my parents wouldn’t mind because Clarence got it for me.  Over the years Clarence got me a number of cool things including my go-cart, which I tell you about that at another time.  Anyway, my chicken was the talk of the neighborhood.  All my friends wanted to see the chick. 

        We made a cardboard house for my chicken and kept him in the basement.  Cardboard was the preferred choice whenever we built something including sleds.  We performed puppet shows and sometimes we would put my chicken on the puppet stage and let him walk around.  This was back in the late 50’s and PETA didn’t exist so having a chicken live in the basement and eating cereal wasn’t and issue. Also, there were no chicken labor laws so we didn’t get hassled for using him on stage.  PETA wouldn’t have approved of the dyeing the chick colors either but as a kid I thought it was cool (maybe #5 red dye colored the pink chicks).    Sorry, I got distracted, on with the story.  I don’t remember what else we fed Peep Peep the chicken but he seemed to do fine, he grew bigger thru the weeks and eventually lost his purple color when his adult feathers came in.  Come to think of it I’m not really sure if Peep Peep was a rooster or a hen, we lived in the City of St. Louis and there were not a lot of chickens in the city, actually I didn’t know about any others but I’m sure there were a few, I wasn’t the only kid at the carnival.  Living in the city was fun but it wasn’t the ideal place to raise a chicken.  Winters can be harsh in St. Louis so keeping my chicken in the basement protected him from the drastic changes in the weather, but there was one event that we did not predict.  

     Springtime in St. Louis has a number of bad thunderstorms with a tremendous amount of rainfall and sometimes the sewer system couldn’t handle all the water, so there would sometimes be flooding in the basement.  Well, you probably know that chickens don’t fly very well, but let me tell you they are even worse swimmers.  That’s right, Peep Peep drowned in a basement flood during one springtime downpour.   We were sad but we gave him a proper burial in our backyard.  So, here’s a cryptic note for PETA, water is more dangerous for chickens than dye, just saying. A chicken dyeing is less harmful than a chicken dying.

      Decades later when I started making wine I dedicated one of my first wines to my chicken by naming my wine Purple Chicken Cabernet and put a short story of Peep Peep on the back label.