So Happy New Year, ya hear! To be honest I'm not a big fan of this holiday. After Thanksgiving, Christmas and my birthday I'm kind of in a holidaze and don't even stay up for the event. To me it just means putting up a new calander and trying to sleep through all the noise in the neighborhood, gunshots, fireworks, barking dogs and drunk tourists shouting in the street. The town is packed with people and we've got lots of snow and for the time being clear skies.
This last storm was pretty good but it was also very wet. Started out as rain then turned to snow then got real cold. The electrical, phone and cable lines are all coated with a thick covering of heavy frozen snow . Some are so low to the street you can touch them just walking by.. The power has been on and off the last couple of days. Because it hasn't warmed up the trees are also heavy with snow. A girl Christy works with had part of a tree break off from the weight and crash through her roof, no one was injured but her house is a major mess, a lot of damage. Across the street I've noticed a tree starting to lean over towards their garage and it's a big tree.With a saturated soil these pine trees actually come down pretty easy, either with the force of the wind or just an old crack in the trunk or the weight of the snow.
Well I'm headed outside to watch some tourists that are snommobiling in the street . They made a ramp out of one of the berms in front of there house and are flying through the air . Always a good show! Take care , Bob of the boat......talk to you next year
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Deep Sea Fishing
So once again back into the way back era of Woodwardia, in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Ever so often on a weekend my Dad would take me deep sea fishing on one of the charter boats that operated out of the pier at Santa Cruz. This was a big deal for me. He'd wake me up really early and he'd be filling his thermos with coffee and I'd wolf down some cereal. We would whisper in the kitchen as we got our gear together so as not to wake up the rest of the house.Get into the car and head for the ocean while it's still dark.
We always stopped at this small cafe that was on the pier and have a bite to eat and they had sea sick pills there which I always gulped down . Bitter, but they did the job, never got sick once on the rolling ocean.Make our way down the pier to the boat, lunch pails in one hand and fishing poles and tackle box in the other.
These charter boats were all wooden and had many layers of peeling paint...pretty rough, not fast, but they worked. About 25 to 30 feet in length with the Capt.'s wheel house close to the bow. Right behind that is the the head or bathroom , or thoroughly disgusting place that served as a cubicle to relieve yourself. Benches on the back deck, both port and starboard with each side seating about 5 or 6. A burlap sack tied to the railing in front of you to hold your fish and up by the head several buckets of bait. Squid, Herring and some other chopped up stuff that was un unidentifiable.There was also a bucket of rusty railroad spikes that you used as a weight to get your baited hook down to the bottom.
So it goes like this . You tie on the railroad spike, tie on an enormous hook, baited with your choice of sea food and slowly lower your line over the side of the boat slowing the descent with your thumb on the large open faced reel. Too fast and the line will "bird nest" and then you've got a real mess. When the line stops spooling out you've hit the bottom. You reel up about 10 feet or so and wait.
Becuase your hook is so deep in the ocean and cod aren't great fighters you can't really tell when youv'e got one on. I reeled up so many times thinking I had something on and then only to find an empty hook.
Mostly we caught rock cod or ling cod but once in awhile some other denizens of the deep. The boat heads back to the pier and there's guys there with little cleaning stations set up who will, for a price, clean and wrap your fish.
So little Bobby goes home with his wrapped up fish, a little sunburned and real happy for his time spent on the ocean with his Dad .What say Dad , do it again?
Take care, Bob of the boat
We always stopped at this small cafe that was on the pier and have a bite to eat and they had sea sick pills there which I always gulped down . Bitter, but they did the job, never got sick once on the rolling ocean.Make our way down the pier to the boat, lunch pails in one hand and fishing poles and tackle box in the other.
These charter boats were all wooden and had many layers of peeling paint...pretty rough, not fast, but they worked. About 25 to 30 feet in length with the Capt.'s wheel house close to the bow. Right behind that is the the head or bathroom , or thoroughly disgusting place that served as a cubicle to relieve yourself. Benches on the back deck, both port and starboard with each side seating about 5 or 6. A burlap sack tied to the railing in front of you to hold your fish and up by the head several buckets of bait. Squid, Herring and some other chopped up stuff that was un unidentifiable.There was also a bucket of rusty railroad spikes that you used as a weight to get your baited hook down to the bottom.
So it goes like this . You tie on the railroad spike, tie on an enormous hook, baited with your choice of sea food and slowly lower your line over the side of the boat slowing the descent with your thumb on the large open faced reel. Too fast and the line will "bird nest" and then you've got a real mess. When the line stops spooling out you've hit the bottom. You reel up about 10 feet or so and wait.
Becuase your hook is so deep in the ocean and cod aren't great fighters you can't really tell when youv'e got one on. I reeled up so many times thinking I had something on and then only to find an empty hook.
Mostly we caught rock cod or ling cod but once in awhile some other denizens of the deep. The boat heads back to the pier and there's guys there with little cleaning stations set up who will, for a price, clean and wrap your fish.
So little Bobby goes home with his wrapped up fish, a little sunburned and real happy for his time spent on the ocean with his Dad .What say Dad , do it again?
Take care, Bob of the boat
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas!!! I want you all to have the best day ever. Hug your partner or call up an old friend or family member. Fix a favorite meal and relax thinking of old friends and days gone by.I'll let Christy sleep in a bit and then start the coffee and a fire.
We didn't get a tree this year or decorate the house. Just wanted to save a few bucks and not have to deal with all the mess. We went to a party last night and had a really good time. Bobbi and Anthony always put on a great spread of food and there house is always warm and welcoming. Home made tamales, baked ham and lots of other dishes.
There was traditional Christmas music playing on the TV. Well there was anyway until I got my hands on the remote. With a little help we were able to find my kind of music. The Supremes, Shirelles, Four Tops , Temptations...you know, all that late 50's early 60's early Motown stuff. This gets a bunch of people up and dancing in the living room , myself included. Although to describe my gyrations as dancing would be stretching it a bit. I was actually sort of hopping about the room like a rabbit, a rabbit with bad knees and my arms pumping out from side to side as if to fend off an attacker. Great fun!
Well eventually someone changed the channel back to more traditional music and everyone sat back down and talked and ate more food. Oh well, we had the place rockin' for a little while there.
Christy and I are making baby stew today, an old family recipe from my Mom's side of the family. And no it's not made from babys. Small cubed pieces of round steak about the size of a sugar cube. Potatoes cut up the same way. Brown the meat with a diced up onion in a pot with a little oil. Par boil spuds to soften them somewhat. Add water, flour , butter to pot along with worsetrschire sauce and some spices especially pepper (bobby likes his pepper). This, if done correctly makes a thick tasty stew.
The story goes that my Mom's family cooked this up as they moved to California via wagon train in the 1800's. They used buffalo meat as opposed to round steak and there have been a few other modifications to the recipe as well.
So have a wonderful Christmas. I'm not a religious guy but I still get swept up in the spirit of this holiday. Gotta go, it's time to open presents and start working on the baby stew. Oh yeah, almost forgot, the stew has to simmer a long time and needs to be stirred a lot so it doesn't burn to the bottom of the pot. So you'll know where I'll be today, in the kitchen with my sweety.
Take care and have a very Merry Christmas. Bob of the baby stew
We didn't get a tree this year or decorate the house. Just wanted to save a few bucks and not have to deal with all the mess. We went to a party last night and had a really good time. Bobbi and Anthony always put on a great spread of food and there house is always warm and welcoming. Home made tamales, baked ham and lots of other dishes.
There was traditional Christmas music playing on the TV. Well there was anyway until I got my hands on the remote. With a little help we were able to find my kind of music. The Supremes, Shirelles, Four Tops , Temptations...you know, all that late 50's early 60's early Motown stuff. This gets a bunch of people up and dancing in the living room , myself included. Although to describe my gyrations as dancing would be stretching it a bit. I was actually sort of hopping about the room like a rabbit, a rabbit with bad knees and my arms pumping out from side to side as if to fend off an attacker. Great fun!
Well eventually someone changed the channel back to more traditional music and everyone sat back down and talked and ate more food. Oh well, we had the place rockin' for a little while there.
Christy and I are making baby stew today, an old family recipe from my Mom's side of the family. And no it's not made from babys. Small cubed pieces of round steak about the size of a sugar cube. Potatoes cut up the same way. Brown the meat with a diced up onion in a pot with a little oil. Par boil spuds to soften them somewhat. Add water, flour , butter to pot along with worsetrschire sauce and some spices especially pepper (bobby likes his pepper). This, if done correctly makes a thick tasty stew.
The story goes that my Mom's family cooked this up as they moved to California via wagon train in the 1800's. They used buffalo meat as opposed to round steak and there have been a few other modifications to the recipe as well.
So have a wonderful Christmas. I'm not a religious guy but I still get swept up in the spirit of this holiday. Gotta go, it's time to open presents and start working on the baby stew. Oh yeah, almost forgot, the stew has to simmer a long time and needs to be stirred a lot so it doesn't burn to the bottom of the pot. So you'll know where I'll be today, in the kitchen with my sweety.
Take care and have a very Merry Christmas. Bob of the baby stew
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Vegetable Confession
I'd like to start off by thanking those of you that have taken the time to respond. I've received some compliments, some complaints and some suggestions. All of it much appreciated. I'd like to thank Susi , my former neighbor and forever friend for her letter about calling the Pogonip or freezing fog "the Crawling Eye Fog". So named after the the early 50's movie "The Crawling Eye".Good one Susi! I watched the movie again after you sent that and it brought back lots of memories. As a bonus, in the movie there's a tram car that went up the mountain that is identical to the one I used to work in at Heavenly Valley. So yeah, fog, mountain resort, tram car, crawling eye, it all works for me!
My sister Linda wrote me about my hatred of Brussel sprouts back when I was a mere sprout myself. When we lived in the Santa Cruz mountains , the rule, for me anyway, was "you can't leave the table until you clean your plate". I had no problem with the meat and potatoes but with the creepy disgusting vegetables, there was a problem, big time!
I tried feeding Brandy our boxer dog the vegetables under the the table but got caught right away. The dogs big floppy jowls and slurping sounds were a dead give away. So as my Mom was busy in the kitchen and everyone else had left the table I was there left alone , staring at the Lima beans or some other disgusting green abomination. So I came up with this.
I'm sitting there all by myself at the table , just me and the lonely vegetables. I grab a fork with my left hand, place Lima bean in the curved part of fork, bend back wrist and place right index finger on tines of fork, then while releasing finger and flicking my wrist the Lima bean takes flight. I always aimed for behind the couch and usually made it, if I didn't , Brandy would snuffle up my error.
Now I was successful at this for quite some time until I tried it out with a Brussel sprout. The weight and round shape gave this little green flyer a much further trajectory. On my first attempt with a brussel sprout it hit the living room wall leaving a green smudge and bounced off, landing on the couch. Our dog having watched all this saved the day and gobbled up the sprout. I had to come up with a new tactic.
My favorite game at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk was Skee-Roll. You roll a wooden ball up this ramp and it hits a little bump and flies in the air to hopefully land in the center bulls eye hole where you get the most points . So my Skee -Roll abilities come into play to rid my plate of the dreaded green spheres. When no ones looking I give the sprout a mighty underhand hurl and watch it bounce across the living room floor headed for its new home under the couch.
This went on for some time and then the day came when we were moving and taking out the furniture. Uh oh! As the couch is moved into the truck my Mom sees all the dried up vegetables. "Whats this? It looks like little Lima beans and green beans and are these brussel sprouts?". I say, "Well mom, I guess I better go out and help Dad load the truck". Once again I didn't get in trouble for my bad behavior. I was just lucky I guess.What I do know is this ... I bet that old Boxer dog was eating healthier than I was!
So that's my vegetable confession. Nowadays I like my little green and yellow buddies and I sure as hell don't have a problem "cleaning my plate". What my Mom said , like so many moms said back then, "their are people starving in Asia, eat your food". Well what a turn around thats become! China owns America and people are starving here. Who'd have thought that would become a reality ?
The rain snow mix continues with about 4 inches of heavy snow so far. Take care , and eat your vegetables, Bob
My sister Linda wrote me about my hatred of Brussel sprouts back when I was a mere sprout myself. When we lived in the Santa Cruz mountains , the rule, for me anyway, was "you can't leave the table until you clean your plate". I had no problem with the meat and potatoes but with the creepy disgusting vegetables, there was a problem, big time!
I tried feeding Brandy our boxer dog the vegetables under the the table but got caught right away. The dogs big floppy jowls and slurping sounds were a dead give away. So as my Mom was busy in the kitchen and everyone else had left the table I was there left alone , staring at the Lima beans or some other disgusting green abomination. So I came up with this.
I'm sitting there all by myself at the table , just me and the lonely vegetables. I grab a fork with my left hand, place Lima bean in the curved part of fork, bend back wrist and place right index finger on tines of fork, then while releasing finger and flicking my wrist the Lima bean takes flight. I always aimed for behind the couch and usually made it, if I didn't , Brandy would snuffle up my error.
Now I was successful at this for quite some time until I tried it out with a Brussel sprout. The weight and round shape gave this little green flyer a much further trajectory. On my first attempt with a brussel sprout it hit the living room wall leaving a green smudge and bounced off, landing on the couch. Our dog having watched all this saved the day and gobbled up the sprout. I had to come up with a new tactic.
My favorite game at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk was Skee-Roll. You roll a wooden ball up this ramp and it hits a little bump and flies in the air to hopefully land in the center bulls eye hole where you get the most points . So my Skee -Roll abilities come into play to rid my plate of the dreaded green spheres. When no ones looking I give the sprout a mighty underhand hurl and watch it bounce across the living room floor headed for its new home under the couch.
This went on for some time and then the day came when we were moving and taking out the furniture. Uh oh! As the couch is moved into the truck my Mom sees all the dried up vegetables. "Whats this? It looks like little Lima beans and green beans and are these brussel sprouts?". I say, "Well mom, I guess I better go out and help Dad load the truck". Once again I didn't get in trouble for my bad behavior. I was just lucky I guess.What I do know is this ... I bet that old Boxer dog was eating healthier than I was!
So that's my vegetable confession. Nowadays I like my little green and yellow buddies and I sure as hell don't have a problem "cleaning my plate". What my Mom said , like so many moms said back then, "their are people starving in Asia, eat your food". Well what a turn around thats become! China owns America and people are starving here. Who'd have thought that would become a reality ?
The rain snow mix continues with about 4 inches of heavy snow so far. Take care , and eat your vegetables, Bob
Thursday, December 16, 2010
A British Sports Car
So all those many years ago in San Jose , for a time we lived in a nice home in a neighborhood called Willow Glen. It was a large corner house with a three car garage and a persimmon tree in the backyard. The house was located so that I could walk to the local park or going in the other direction I could walk to the little shopping area that had the movie theater where I could watch the monster movies or science fiction films that I loved . The elementary school was also close by so I never took the bus, always walked.
One day my Dad comes home from work and says "We're moving to Tahoe". Now we had been vacationing at the lake since I was born, in fact my Mom and Dad honeymooned here in '53. I'm all excited about moving to the lake and then my dad brings in a pair of skiis he bought at Mel Cottons, an old sporting good store in San Jose. Now this was a long time ago and ski technology was still really lagging. I had bamboo poles, skiis with cable bindings and black paint for the base and top it all off with rubber ski boots. I'm ecstatic and immediately lace up my rubber boots, clamp myself to the wooden skiis and start shuffling across the living room carpet while poking holes in the rug with my bamboo poles with the metal tips.
Well learning to ski on snow, not carpet, is another story. What I wanted to tell you was about this same time my Dad buys this used Triumph TR3 little sports car . This thing is tiny. A red two seater convertible, wire spoke wheels with low slung doors. This car is powered by a small four cylinder engine but what it lacks in power it makes up for in handling. It was like a go cart with a red metal body.
My Dad , back then ,always liked to show off his driving expertise and maybe give his passengers a bit of a scare. He'd leave the driveway going through the gears , winding out that little four cylinder for all it was worth. Waaarrmm, pphh, a quick shift then waaarrmm pop pop..This went on until he got the car to the proper speed and then the fun began.
When "the coast was clear", He'd crank the wheel into a hard turn ,breaking the rear tires lose and slide the rear end around and then accelerate and do it all over again.Now this car was so low to the street you could put your arm out the low doors and touch the pavement so it made for a pretty exciting ride. There was a small grab handle mounted just above the minuscule glove compartment. That little chrome handle was used alot as this car had no seat belts and there was the constant threat of being thrown over board.
The little red Triumph was sold before we moved to the lake as it was not exactly what you'd call a "snow car". You don't see too many of these cars on the road anymore, probably rusting away somewhere or in private collections and rarely driven.
. . .
So another storm on the way and it looks to be a mixture of snow and rain and lasting several days.Our driveway is clear now and we're okay with food and the car and truck are full of gas plus I've got extra fuel for the snow blower. I'll report later as to the severity of the precipitation.
Take care, Bob of the boat
One day my Dad comes home from work and says "We're moving to Tahoe". Now we had been vacationing at the lake since I was born, in fact my Mom and Dad honeymooned here in '53. I'm all excited about moving to the lake and then my dad brings in a pair of skiis he bought at Mel Cottons, an old sporting good store in San Jose. Now this was a long time ago and ski technology was still really lagging. I had bamboo poles, skiis with cable bindings and black paint for the base and top it all off with rubber ski boots. I'm ecstatic and immediately lace up my rubber boots, clamp myself to the wooden skiis and start shuffling across the living room carpet while poking holes in the rug with my bamboo poles with the metal tips.
Well learning to ski on snow, not carpet, is another story. What I wanted to tell you was about this same time my Dad buys this used Triumph TR3 little sports car . This thing is tiny. A red two seater convertible, wire spoke wheels with low slung doors. This car is powered by a small four cylinder engine but what it lacks in power it makes up for in handling. It was like a go cart with a red metal body.
My Dad , back then ,always liked to show off his driving expertise and maybe give his passengers a bit of a scare. He'd leave the driveway going through the gears , winding out that little four cylinder for all it was worth. Waaarrmm, pphh, a quick shift then waaarrmm pop pop..This went on until he got the car to the proper speed and then the fun began.
When "the coast was clear", He'd crank the wheel into a hard turn ,breaking the rear tires lose and slide the rear end around and then accelerate and do it all over again.Now this car was so low to the street you could put your arm out the low doors and touch the pavement so it made for a pretty exciting ride. There was a small grab handle mounted just above the minuscule glove compartment. That little chrome handle was used alot as this car had no seat belts and there was the constant threat of being thrown over board.
The little red Triumph was sold before we moved to the lake as it was not exactly what you'd call a "snow car". You don't see too many of these cars on the road anymore, probably rusting away somewhere or in private collections and rarely driven.
. . .
So another storm on the way and it looks to be a mixture of snow and rain and lasting several days.Our driveway is clear now and we're okay with food and the car and truck are full of gas plus I've got extra fuel for the snow blower. I'll report later as to the severity of the precipitation.
Take care, Bob of the boat
Monday, December 13, 2010
Pogonip Edition
So for the second morning in a row, the Pogonip has rolled into the basin, at least in this neighborhood anyway. Pogonip, for those unfamiliar with the term, is a Shoshone and Washoe Indian word for freezing fog. The Washoe believed that the Pogonip could kill you if you breathed it in for too long. The frozen crystals get into your lungs and you die. Fable, myth, truth?
I do know I loved skiing on days like this. Heavy fog covering the lake, but as the chairlift climbs in elavation you break through the fog and it's sunny and beautiful. You look down on the fog covered lake and it's all so surreal. Big cotton balls covering the lake and up to about half way up the face of Heavenly Valley. You just left a grey cold damp place and within minutes you're in the sun, floating on the snow carving big turns.
Then the reverse happens as you ski down to the parking lot. One minute you're in the sun the next you're in the cold and damp fog, making your way to the base in search of the truck, hidden in the mist. Make your way to the old blue Chevy, unbuckle your ski boots, slip on a pair of tennies and crack a cold beer stashed in the bed of the truck. Wipe your brow from the wet fog and and stare off into the pogonip. Drive home and build a fire, get out of your ski clothes and start dinner as the fog hugs the house.
Ya know, my Doctor, Physical Therapist and Attorney all told me to not go skiing anymore but there are times where I feel like saying "screw it, I'm going!". Now this would be a risky proposition as I no longer have insurance and my workman's comp. case has yet to be reviewed by the state. Maybe just a little cross country skiing in the meadow? We shall see, as I don't want to do more damage to my knees and back than I already have from being a garbageman for 31 plus years.
Looking out the window at the fog and reflecting on all those years of skiing and loving every minute of it makes me happy and sad at the same time. Happy that I was able to do it for so long and having such great memories of my times on the long boards in the sun, and yet sad as I can no longer do it.
So if you're in the fog, try and get up in altitude, into the sunshine, and if you get high enough, into the sparkling snow with the sun beaming down, dry crunchy snow beneath your skiis and a beautiful ski run ahead of you. Watch out for the trees on the sides and stay focused on the moment. Big wide fast turns, rythmically turning left and right, your hair blowing back and your thighs feeling the burn from the work out as you shift your weight from side to side. As you carve a left turn your weight is on the inside edge of your right ski, a small pole plant and a slight lifting or unweighting and you turn to the right, now with your weight on the left inside edged ski. At the bottom of the run you're slightly out of breath but exhilerated and rushing towards the chair lift to go back up and do it all over again....and again and again and again.
Well the pogonip has burned off so I guess I'll go out and fill the birdfeeder and get on with the day. Gotta get ready, another storm is heading this way on Tuesday. A lot of the snow has melted in the last couple of weeks. My neighbor Ron rode his snowmobile up to Blue Lakes yesterday and said the snow was disapearing fast. So come on, let it snow! My back is almost healed up from the last storm!
Take care, Bob of the boat
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Iguana Edition
I've always loved pet shops ever since I can remember. When I was a little guy and my Dad worked at Falstaff there was a pet store named Andy's not far from the brewery. We went there from time to time and I really liked it. As soon as you open the door there's a rush of warm air and all these sounds, the parrots screeching and talking, the bubbling water in the fish tanks, a chattering monkey and maybe some yipping puppies. The heat lights over the reptiles, rats , mice and hamsters either sleeping or scurrying about with their noses twitching picking up all the smells of the menagerie.
My folks bought me a little turtle there with a little plastic bowl with a little plastic palm tree in the middle. I always felt sorry for the turtle, trapped in this little dinner plate sized prison on top of my dresser. If I didn't win a goldfish at the county fair in the coin toss game, we bought some little goldfish at Andy's, " Now remember Bobby, don't over feed them".
So flash forward to 1966. We had moved from Tahoe back to San Jose for a brief stay but quickly decided to return to the Lake . My folks buy a small motel across the highway from the old Echo motel, the Alta Vista . Nice place with only 12 units plus it's on the "right" side of the highway, the side where the incoming traffic from Echo Summit streams in.
There's a new pet shop in town, it's in the building that now is occupied by Izzy's Burgers. I ride my bike down there to check it out and although small, they've got a lot of animals in there including a small leopard in a chicken wire cage. So I'm looking around and I spot something cool, an Iguana! Not real big mind you , maybe a foot long and most of that is his tail. I have the money for the lizard and a little book on it's care and feeding but the lady doesn't have a container for me to put it in. I hop on my bike to head home to get a box or one of my empty aquariums left vacant from the dearly departed previous tenant. On a hunch I stop at Kentucky Fried Chicken and explain my plight to the lady working there . She sympathizes and gives me a big new empty KFC bucket. I pedal back to the pet shop and buy the lizard and name him the Colonel after Col. Sanders.
The Colonel is doing fine in his new home. He's eating well and doesn't mind being handled. He looks like a miniature green dinosaur or dragon. Being a big fan of science fiction /monster movies , the Col. makes for a great pet. He clings to my fore arm and turns his little reptilian head from side to side, blinking and sticking his tongue out. He's way cool!
One day I come home from school and my Mom is all worked up. "Bobby your Iguana got out of his cage and the cat got into your room". This is definitely not good news. The Col. had gotten out before, once when I woke up he was asleep on my chest. Another time I found him under the bed. Throw a cat into this and it's not likely the Col. will survive. I cautiously open the door and can hear the ruckus instantly. The cat and the Col. are under the bed locked in mortal combat! I moved the bed to separate them but alas, I was too late. At the the time I got to them it really did look like one of those movies with the Saber Tooth Tiger attacking the dinosaur. I cremated the Col. in our 55 gallon burn barrel at the back of the motel. I miss my little green buddy."Long Live the Colonel"!!
Take care, Bob
My folks bought me a little turtle there with a little plastic bowl with a little plastic palm tree in the middle. I always felt sorry for the turtle, trapped in this little dinner plate sized prison on top of my dresser. If I didn't win a goldfish at the county fair in the coin toss game, we bought some little goldfish at Andy's, " Now remember Bobby, don't over feed them".
So flash forward to 1966. We had moved from Tahoe back to San Jose for a brief stay but quickly decided to return to the Lake . My folks buy a small motel across the highway from the old Echo motel, the Alta Vista . Nice place with only 12 units plus it's on the "right" side of the highway, the side where the incoming traffic from Echo Summit streams in.
There's a new pet shop in town, it's in the building that now is occupied by Izzy's Burgers. I ride my bike down there to check it out and although small, they've got a lot of animals in there including a small leopard in a chicken wire cage. So I'm looking around and I spot something cool, an Iguana! Not real big mind you , maybe a foot long and most of that is his tail. I have the money for the lizard and a little book on it's care and feeding but the lady doesn't have a container for me to put it in. I hop on my bike to head home to get a box or one of my empty aquariums left vacant from the dearly departed previous tenant. On a hunch I stop at Kentucky Fried Chicken and explain my plight to the lady working there . She sympathizes and gives me a big new empty KFC bucket. I pedal back to the pet shop and buy the lizard and name him the Colonel after Col. Sanders.
The Colonel is doing fine in his new home. He's eating well and doesn't mind being handled. He looks like a miniature green dinosaur or dragon. Being a big fan of science fiction /monster movies , the Col. makes for a great pet. He clings to my fore arm and turns his little reptilian head from side to side, blinking and sticking his tongue out. He's way cool!
One day I come home from school and my Mom is all worked up. "Bobby your Iguana got out of his cage and the cat got into your room". This is definitely not good news. The Col. had gotten out before, once when I woke up he was asleep on my chest. Another time I found him under the bed. Throw a cat into this and it's not likely the Col. will survive. I cautiously open the door and can hear the ruckus instantly. The cat and the Col. are under the bed locked in mortal combat! I moved the bed to separate them but alas, I was too late. At the the time I got to them it really did look like one of those movies with the Saber Tooth Tiger attacking the dinosaur. I cremated the Col. in our 55 gallon burn barrel at the back of the motel. I miss my little green buddy."Long Live the Colonel"!!
Take care, Bob
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Volume 6
So thanks to Senator Bernie Sanders (I-Vermont) for attaching an amendment to a bill that forced The Fed to disclose just how much money was loaned out and to whom. About 9 trillion dollars at .07 percent to GE, McDonalds, Verizon, Harley Davidson and a bunch of other companies many of which were not hurting financially and with no strings attached. Not much can be done now, they've got the money and they are sitting on it, not hiring, not building new factories, just giving the big bosses a bonus and investing overseas. It's a shame that they couldn't have helped the middle class with that kind of dough.
Speaking of the middle class, the Repug thugs just voted to let the Tax cuts expire for those making under 250,000. Their complaint being they didn't want the top 2%, the wealthiest in the country, to have their taxes go up 3% on anything they make over a quarter of a million dollars. Also the Repugs blocked any more extensions for unemployment insurance. So if you're lucky enough to have a job, your hours are being cut, your wage frozen at a low rate and you'll pay more in taxes. If you're out of work your unemployment checks will be drying up. Merry Christmas ??
Then there's Senator John Kyl (r) from Arizona who's blocking a nuclear arms reduction treaty with Russia and the US. Because he's taken a lot of money from the weapons industry and he's also wanting a tax cut for the wealthy. He's standing in the way of reducing nuclear weapons in both countries so he and his buddies can line their pockets.
The rich and powerful people and large corporations have run (ruined) this country for a long time. They used to kind of operate behind the scenes to at least give the impression that the citizens had a voice.They want you to believe if you work hard you can have a comfortable retirement for all your years of hard work and being a honest and good American. Well the curtains been pulled back and these crooks don't care who sees them. They know they have control over the paid off politicians and they can run things however they want. Social Security and Pensions are being eyed by these vultures as well. Screw the little man! That's there motto.
Sorry for being on such a downer, maybe next time I'll write about another goofy time in my younger years. Take care , Bob of the boat
Speaking of the middle class, the Repug thugs just voted to let the Tax cuts expire for those making under 250,000. Their complaint being they didn't want the top 2%, the wealthiest in the country, to have their taxes go up 3% on anything they make over a quarter of a million dollars. Also the Repugs blocked any more extensions for unemployment insurance. So if you're lucky enough to have a job, your hours are being cut, your wage frozen at a low rate and you'll pay more in taxes. If you're out of work your unemployment checks will be drying up. Merry Christmas ??
Then there's Senator John Kyl (r) from Arizona who's blocking a nuclear arms reduction treaty with Russia and the US. Because he's taken a lot of money from the weapons industry and he's also wanting a tax cut for the wealthy. He's standing in the way of reducing nuclear weapons in both countries so he and his buddies can line their pockets.
The rich and powerful people and large corporations have run (ruined) this country for a long time. They used to kind of operate behind the scenes to at least give the impression that the citizens had a voice.They want you to believe if you work hard you can have a comfortable retirement for all your years of hard work and being a honest and good American. Well the curtains been pulled back and these crooks don't care who sees them. They know they have control over the paid off politicians and they can run things however they want. Social Security and Pensions are being eyed by these vultures as well. Screw the little man! That's there motto.
Sorry for being on such a downer, maybe next time I'll write about another goofy time in my younger years. Take care , Bob of the boat
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Volume 5
Recently a friend and I were having one of our long, laugh filled phone conversations and the name Herb Caen came up. Herb wrote a column for the San Francisco Chronicle for what seemed like forever. We had a subscription when I was just a kid and I always read it first thing. I really liked his tales of SF or his time growing up in Sacramento. He sometimes referred to himself as "The Sacamena Kid " because Sacto is where he first got his start working for a newspaper. He mostly wrote about his beloved " City by the Bay". The fog rolling in beneath the Golden Gate, the sounds of the seals at Fisherman's Wharf, the smell of the fresh baked sour dough bread at the bakery, the tourists all clamoring to get a seat at the Cliff House, the latest political scandal , who was with who at one of the many high society venues and of course where to get a good martini. He also had a thing he called three dot journalism wherein he would write a paragraph or two on one topic then leave a space, type in three dots, a space, and then go on to something different . So with the dearly departed Mr. Caens permission, I'm going to " borrow " his three dots for a bit .
. . .
When we had the Echo motel my dad had a saying about some of the other motel owners, " they're stickin' it to 'em ". We had a good business and always filled up fast on the holidays and in the summer . When we were full, Dad would flip the switch for the no vacancy sign and say "Bob , lets go for a drive ". We'd hop in the old Willys pick up and head up to stateline. Dad would point out the motels with there " NO " on and with very few cars in the parking lot and he'd say " they're stickin' it to 'em ". What these motels would do was put on the "NO" sign as people were just getting into town and then when the other motels were full and the tourists were frantically looking for a place to stay,they turn off the "No" and charge the desperate tourist a much higher rate. We never did that I'm proud to say. My Mom used to send out Christmas cards to our guests and we had many repeat visitors. We kept our motel clean, never "gouged" anyone and were kind to our guests. Now THAT'S how you do business! If you treat people right you will be rewarded many times over. Well , sometmes anyway.
. . .
The WikiLeaks Diplomat Document Dump has been interesting to watch. I always knew our government was scary, scheming and underhanded but this was even worse than I thought after reading these latest revelations. Julian Assange, the head of WikiLeaks , is reportedly going to release more info on the crooked banking system . It's good to have this stuff out so that maybe theres some changes made for the better. I fear the Mr. Assange may be assassinated or have an unfortunate "accident "sometime soon . Ignore the the message and kill the messenger.
. . .
We've had some real cold nights lately on south shore, down to 5 degrees here on Knox street and -8 degrees at the airport. Over at Jon and Susan's house on the meadow it was zero. It's not too bad this morning as a warmer storm is moving in bringing temperatures up. The pipes didn't freeze in the rental next door which was good and although the truck was hard to keep running at first, once it got warmed up it was fine. It seems we've had a fire going in the woodstove almost non stop for weeks. Hope the wood holds out for the rest of the winter . As it is, even with the thermostat at 60, the furnace kicks in a lot. With an old house and single pane windows and the original insulation from 1964 we tend to bundle up when these cold temps come creeping indoors. Thank heaven for Christy, the down comforter and our warm and furry kids, Lucky and Ashley.
. . .
I'd like to send out a few thank yous. To my sister Michele , thanks for the picture of the scorpion with Bush's photo shopped head on it as well as the photo of us at The Echo, classic ! Bob Conti thanks for calling and reminding me of Herb Caen and for being a friend and also for selling me that old Norton , when I go, it goes back to you . I thank you all for reading these ramblings and hope you enjoy them as much as I do pecking them out . If not, just delete.So it's time for tea and toast and maybe some shoveling of the snow.
Take care , Bob of the boat.
. . .
When we had the Echo motel my dad had a saying about some of the other motel owners, " they're stickin' it to 'em ". We had a good business and always filled up fast on the holidays and in the summer . When we were full, Dad would flip the switch for the no vacancy sign and say "Bob , lets go for a drive ". We'd hop in the old Willys pick up and head up to stateline. Dad would point out the motels with there " NO " on and with very few cars in the parking lot and he'd say " they're stickin' it to 'em ". What these motels would do was put on the "NO" sign as people were just getting into town and then when the other motels were full and the tourists were frantically looking for a place to stay,they turn off the "No" and charge the desperate tourist a much higher rate. We never did that I'm proud to say. My Mom used to send out Christmas cards to our guests and we had many repeat visitors. We kept our motel clean, never "gouged" anyone and were kind to our guests. Now THAT'S how you do business! If you treat people right you will be rewarded many times over. Well , sometmes anyway.
. . .
The WikiLeaks Diplomat Document Dump has been interesting to watch. I always knew our government was scary, scheming and underhanded but this was even worse than I thought after reading these latest revelations. Julian Assange, the head of WikiLeaks , is reportedly going to release more info on the crooked banking system . It's good to have this stuff out so that maybe theres some changes made for the better. I fear the Mr. Assange may be assassinated or have an unfortunate "accident "sometime soon . Ignore the the message and kill the messenger.
. . .
We've had some real cold nights lately on south shore, down to 5 degrees here on Knox street and -8 degrees at the airport. Over at Jon and Susan's house on the meadow it was zero. It's not too bad this morning as a warmer storm is moving in bringing temperatures up. The pipes didn't freeze in the rental next door which was good and although the truck was hard to keep running at first, once it got warmed up it was fine. It seems we've had a fire going in the woodstove almost non stop for weeks. Hope the wood holds out for the rest of the winter . As it is, even with the thermostat at 60, the furnace kicks in a lot. With an old house and single pane windows and the original insulation from 1964 we tend to bundle up when these cold temps come creeping indoors. Thank heaven for Christy, the down comforter and our warm and furry kids, Lucky and Ashley.
. . .
I'd like to send out a few thank yous. To my sister Michele , thanks for the picture of the scorpion with Bush's photo shopped head on it as well as the photo of us at The Echo, classic ! Bob Conti thanks for calling and reminding me of Herb Caen and for being a friend and also for selling me that old Norton , when I go, it goes back to you . I thank you all for reading these ramblings and hope you enjoy them as much as I do pecking them out . If not, just delete.So it's time for tea and toast and maybe some shoveling of the snow.
Take care , Bob of the boat.
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