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Index » Radio Paradise/General » General Discussion » True Confessions Page: Previous  1, 2, 3, ... 101, 102, 103  Next
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miamizsun

miamizsun Avatar

Location: (3261.3 Miles SE of RP)
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 23, 2020 - 8:38am

 oldviolin wrote:
people just don't know how much damage a 3 1/2 inch air driven nail can cause...
 

the crucifixion business might have really taken off if they had that kind of tool...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 23, 2020 - 8:26am



 Red_Dragon wrote:


 oldviolin wrote:
...my young Vietnamese neighbor, An, comes over to ask if I have any zip ties he can have.
His family has lived across the street for 25 years. I remember when he was a kid loving to work on cars. Still does. His little boys do too from what I've seen. It makes me happy.

He lives a few miles away now so he comes home to his parents to work on his or their car projects because, according to An, otherwise he'll be pestered to death lol. Man I sort of envy him like that. Being pestered by love.

Anyhow he hung around for a few minutes looking and asking about the various tools I was using; specifically the pneumatic nailers. Like when to use which and how to know which nails to buy and so forth. He focused on the big framing nailer I use like it was some sort of weapon. I have to imagine he was a little intimidated by it. I thought a little bit of that intimidation was a good thing. Respect and for good reason. Not enough intimidation as to usher fear though. That would be self defeating and dangerous.

Choir?

The thing is he said he wanted to learn the fundamentals of carpentry etc. I'm such a buzzkill but I couldn't stop myself from saying "well, of course you can find out just about anything on the internet but you can't go back and learn how to do it before there was  such a thing as a pneumatic nailer" as I stood there with glint in my eye.

Ok, he didn't get the joke. As a matter of fact I'm not sure I do either...
 

My son framed for a few years. Coming down a ladder, he shot himself in the leg with one of those big framing nailers; barely missing his femoral artery.
 
people just don't know how much damage a 3 1/2 inch air driven nail can cause...

Red_Dragon

Red_Dragon Avatar



Posted: Aug 22, 2020 - 8:27pm



 oldviolin wrote:
...my young Vietnamese neighbor, An, comes over to ask if I have any zip ties he can have.
His family has lived across the street for 25 years. I remember when he was a kid loving to work on cars. Still does. His little boys do too from what I've seen. It makes me happy.

He lives a few miles away now so he comes home to his parents to work on his or their car projects because, according to An, otherwise he'll be pestered to death lol. Man I sort of envy him like that. Being pestered by love.

Anyhow he hung around for a few minutes looking and asking about the various tools I was using; specifically the pneumatic nailers. Like when to use which and how to know which nails to buy and so forth. He focused on the big framing nailer I use like it was some sort of weapon. I have to imagine he was a little intimidated by it. I thought a little bit of that intimidation was a good thing. Respect and for good reason. Not enough intimidation as to usher fear though. That would be self defeating and dangerous.

Choir?

The thing is he said he wanted to learn the fundamentals of carpentry etc. I'm such a buzzkill but I couldn't stop myself from saying "well, of course you can find out just about anything on the internet but you can't go back and learn how to do it before there was  such a thing as a pneumatic nailer" as I stood there with glint in my eye.

Ok, he didn't get the joke. As a matter of fact I'm not sure I do either...
 

My son framed for a few years. Coming down a ladder, he shot himself in the leg with one of those big framing nailers; barely missing his femoral artery.
haresfur

haresfur Avatar

Location: The Golden Triangle
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 22, 2020 - 3:26pm



 oldviolin wrote:
...my young Vietnamese neighbor, An, comes over to ask if I have any zip ties he can have.
His family has lived across the street for 25 years. I remember when he was a kid loving to work on cars. Still does. His little boys do too from what I've seen. It makes me happy.

He lives a few miles away now so he comes home to his parents to work on his or their car projects because, according to An, otherwise he'll be pestered to death lol. Man I sort of envy him like that. Being pestered by love.

Anyhow he hung around for a few minutes looking and asking about the various tools I was using; specifically the pneumatic nailers. Like when to use which and how to know which nails to buy and so forth. He focused on the big framing nailer I use like it was some sort of weapon. I have to imagine he was a little intimidated by it. I thought a little bit of that intimidation was a good thing. Respect and for good reason. Not enough intimidation as to usher fear though. That would be self defeating and dangerous.

Choir?

The thing is he said he wanted to learn the fundamentals of carpentry etc. I'm such a buzzkill but I couldn't stop myself from saying "well, of course you can find out just about anything on the internet but you can't go back and learn how to do it before there wasn't  such a thing as a pneumatic nailer" as I stood there with glint in my eye.

Ok, he didn't get the joke. As a matter of fact I'm not sure I do either...
 

Sounds like you need an apprentice 
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 22, 2020 - 1:02pm

...my young Vietnamese neighbor, An, comes over to ask if I have any zip ties he can have.
His family has lived across the street for 25 years. I remember when he was a kid loving to work on cars. Still does. His little boys do too from what I've seen. It makes me happy.

He lives a few miles away now so he comes home to his parents to work on his or their car projects because, according to An, otherwise he'll be pestered to death lol. Man I sort of envy him like that. Being pestered by love.

Anyhow he hung around for a few minutes looking and asking about the various tools I was using; specifically the pneumatic nailers. Like when to use which and how to know which nails to buy and so forth. He focused on the big framing nailer I use like it was some sort of weapon. I have to imagine he was a little intimidated by it. I thought a little bit of that intimidation was a good thing. Respect and for good reason. Not enough intimidation as to usher fear though. That would be self defeating and dangerous.

Choir?

The thing is he said he wanted to learn the fundamentals of carpentry etc. I'm such a buzzkill but I couldn't stop myself from saying "well, of course you can find out just about anything on the internet but you can't go back and learn how to do it before there was  such a thing as a pneumatic nailer" as I stood there with glint in my eye.

Ok, he didn't get the joke. As a matter of fact I'm not sure I do either...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 15, 2020 - 6:22pm


haresfur

haresfur Avatar

Location: The Golden Triangle
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 15, 2020 - 6:07pm



 oldviolin wrote:
In military basic training the mental/emotional is stressed along with the physical in order to toughen a mindset; a sort of preset weariness in the guise of forced self discipline.

I must say, being a hopelessly undisciplined 19 year old to begin with
that, at least in my mind, life was all just one big risk after another. Anything can happen, and usually does.

That is exactly what a drill sergeant tries to wrangle out of you. A soldier is to know what is going to happen, and to be prepared for the suffering as much as the victory over ones own doubts and failings...

All that said, that cold rainy December morning about 3AM
I guarded my post as ordered. I had my clipboard around my neck and a trusty 4D cell flashlight; ready to engage any threat and 
since I was still young, didn't  need these smudged up drugstore reading glasses to read my general orders off the clipboard.
Empowerment is the new black, don't you know...
 
At any rate I was defending the security of the Post Morgue.

Not sure which door the threat might appear but I guess the Army didn't want to take any chances. Zombies are just a hassle any way you look at it, especially if wearing olive drab.

Two hours on, four off. That was the gig. It was my second shift and I was in my second and last hour of sleep deprivation during that cold December rain in Ft Polk Louisiana in 1974. 

There I was, sleep deprived and well into an anguished 11 weeks of civilian mind destruction so I could fight with somebody besides myself.

As I said, there I was on the
porch of the Post Morgue, a spare wooden structure  painted, wait for it, greenish yellow, no doubt built in the teens to train soldiers for the war to end all wars. At least one of them. 

I'm peering into my time-heart-memory- lens and I can see myself there, wearing ill fitting army garments and huddled up on a hot water pipe I found protruding from an exterior wall.

As I'm hanging on there in dreamy half snooze I hear bangs and bumping around inside. I didn't have the courage to knock on the door but just in case I clutched my clipboard tightly.

I wonder now, at this late stage of the game, if any of it actually happened. 
I remember thinking somewhere along the way during my early enlistment days
that I had really gotten myself into a pickle this time.

(The green pickle; that's an inside soldier joke. You get the gist)...
 


oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 15, 2020 - 11:35am

In military basic training the mental/emotional is stressed along with the physical in order to toughen a mindset; a sort of preset weariness in the guise of forced self discipline.

I must say, being a hopelessly undisciplined 19 year old to begin with
that, at least in my mind, life was all just one big risk after another. Anything can happen, and usually does.

That is exactly what a drill sergeant tries to wrangle out of you. A soldier is to know what is going to happen, and to be prepared for the suffering as much as the victory over ones own doubts and failings...

All that said, that cold rainy December morning about 3AM
I guarded my post as ordered. I had my clipboard around my neck and a trusty 4D cell flashlight; ready to engage any threat and 
since I was still young, didn't  need these smudged up drugstore reading glasses to read my general orders off the clipboard.
Empowerment is the new black, don't you know...
 
At any rate I was defending the security of the Post Morgue.

Not sure which door the threat might appear but I guess the Army didn't want to take any chances. Zombies are just a hassle any way you look at it, especially if wearing olive drab.

Two hours on, four off. That was the gig. It was my second shift and I was in my second and last hour of sleep deprivation during that cold December rain in Ft Polk Louisiana in 1974. 

There I was, sleep deprived and well into an anguished 11 weeks of civilian mind destruction so I could fight with somebody besides myself.

As I said, there I was on the
porch of the Post Morgue, a spare wooden structure  like all the other buildings and barracks painted, wait for it, greenish yellow, no doubt built in the teens to train soldiers for the war to end all wars. At least one of them. 

I'm peering into my time-heart-memory- lens and I can see myself there, wearing ill fitting army garments and huddled up on a hot water pipe I found protruding from an exterior wall.

As I'm hanging on there in dreamy half snooze I hear bangs and bumping around inside. I didn't have the courage to knock on the door but just in case I clutched my clipboard tightly.

I wonder now, at this late stage of the game, if any of it actually happened. 
I remember thinking somewhere along the way during my early enlistment days
that I had really gotten myself into a pickle this time.

(The green pickle; that's an inside soldier joke. You get the gist)...
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Aug 12, 2020 - 2:29pm



 sirdroseph wrote:

Best exercise for this is dumbbell lateral raises.

 

 

Yep, that's one of the exercises I'm doing. Thanks.
sirdroseph

sirdroseph Avatar

Location: Yes
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 12, 2020 - 9:18am

 Antigone wrote:
I want really cut shoulders. 

 
Best exercise for this is dumbbell lateral raises.

 

Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Aug 11, 2020 - 3:08pm

I want really cut shoulders. 
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 9, 2020 - 9:34am

I would rather be defective than ineffective any day...
Wait. Isn't this the 260,000 posts thread?
uh oh...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 8, 2020 - 10:56am



 miamizsun wrote:


got any nine inch nails?

"no...go fish"
 


miamizsun

miamizsun Avatar

Location: (3261.3 Miles SE of RP)
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 8, 2020 - 10:29am

 oldviolin wrote:
I identify as a carpenter
 

got any nine inch nails?

"no...go fish"
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 8, 2020 - 10:18am

I identify as a carpenter
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 8, 2020 - 8:20am

Summer of '68 was hot. Everywhere. Everything.
At 13 I had a strange understanding of the tenuous and violent world I watched on our Magnavox B&W console entertainment center. I wasn't allowed to play my Beatles records on it but back before digression was transgression the word for that summers events was confusion.

The world was still in black and white after all. Word came that there was to be a poor people's march so that evening Mouse and I climbed up on my house to get a better view. In those days I guess I didn't realize that we were poor too but it wasn't for lack of trying.


Mouse was saying they would be coming down the street any time and sure enough a lady and a couple of scruffy kids walked by.. Mouse saved his torment in case the neighbor across the street came out. They hated each other though I never actually learned why.

All the excitement that evening was due to the old hardware store and lumber yard catching fire and the glow and explosions of what turned out to be gallons of paint...
I guess it was an alkyd seltzer moment for old man Dockery, the owner.

We could see it all from my roof. Later somebody said it was Jewish lightning but I never saw any lightning or heard any thundering Jews and I wasn't sure what that even meant. 

Anyhow that night the poor peoples march was on our B&W tv and I figured they took a shortcut and missed our street...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 6, 2020 - 7:42pm

John Lewis
I've learned so much from the memorial retrospectives. What a man for our times.
RIP kind Sir...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 6, 2020 - 7:34pm

My Grandfather's nickname was Snapback...
His last car was a Simca. He had a heart attack in it...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 5, 2020 - 7:02pm

Ok gotta signal for a second...

Ted, lol. Ted was an Angel prospect that found himself in the Army. He was cool as hell and like many guys I knew including myself (if only vaguely), he was either working on a plan or a motorcycle or both simultaneously while still making formation. 
Mick had introduced me to Ted.  Mick was the older brother I didn't have but needed so badly. Mick was from Anaheim but that's a story for another time. He had a '65 Chevy panel delivery he was proud of. I had a '59 International. I paid $250 for it in Pacific Grove. It was once a Sears Repair truck. Still had the color scheme.

Speaking of schemes, you've gotten this far to my delight...
Now back to Ted. The prospect.
He took Mick and I to this joint in Monterey. His girl was going to be there. She was there. She brought friends...
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 5, 2020 - 7:30am

...staged for Viet Nam but more a transition soldier. The overlapping cold war advanced then dissolved with my youth and emotional disarray...
I wasn't afraid then and I'm damned sure not afraid now. 
Though the world war seems colder in ironic displays of web fever, the survival game is on. Truth at the helm. Destiny on the horizon. Ship taking on tomorrow...
Worn out soul meets the journey with worn out soles. 
It's in the books. It's in the wind. It's in the water; it's in the ether...signs and wonders...
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