Shooting on Knox!

Well, it's been some interesting times here on Knox street as of late. A few weeks ago old Lucky, as always, needed to go outside, (boy, does he pee a lot). His hearing and eyesight aren't so good anymore, nor his bladder control for that matter. I let him out A LOT so he doesn't pee on the floor. He wanted to go out front so the two of us limp out into the street, with me wearing only my boxers, and Lucky pees on everybody's mail box post. As we walk by the next-door neighbors house at 1:00 a.m., she's really hollering at her boyfriend, Andy. Lots of "fu*# you" and "fu*#ing liar"; she sounded really angry. Still lots of yelling later that morning.

I was in the backyard early that afternoon getting ready to BBQ and they are still at it. She's hollering like you wouldn't believe. Suddenly, a gun shot rang out from their backyard... then all was quiet. I don't know what to do. I know I don't want to go over there for fear of being shot myself. A few minutes go by and the phone rings. It's one of my other neighbors telling me they're cops every where and they've blocked off the street with their cars with lights flashing and guns pointed at Andy's house and do not go outside. I look out the front window and, sure enough, there is a cop in my front yard with a rifle pointed at Andy's house. I had the front door open at the time and the cop tells me to evacuate the premises. I said I'll just shut the doors and stay inside. He tells me to stay inside and stay away from the windows as, "This is a very serious situation."

Some time passed and I saw that the cop that was in my yard was gone and some of the neighbors had gathered in the street . They told me Andy and Adrian had both been handcuffed and hauled away. I went out to talk about all this craziness when a plain clothes detective came over and interviewed me about what I saw and heard. This led to the police coming to my house for 5 days straight, asking me questions. Everyday there was a big cop in my house, grilling me on what I knew about Andy and his girlfriend, which was not much as I barely knew the guy and his girlfriend at all. They stayed to themselves pretty much and just waved to me as they drove down the street.

Andy's mom started calling me several times a day from So. Cal. I had never met her before so I didn't know her either. She was just a concerned mom worried about her son and decided that, because I was her son's neighbor, I would take care of all these things: Hire a lawyer, get a locksmith to change the locks, go to the court house, get copies of documents, visit him in jail and on and on and on... She also dragged Christy into this mess as well.

Finally, after a week of this madness, a cop stopped by the house (again!) and advised me to withdraw myself from this whole thing. He said I could be subpoenaed to stand before the court and testify and then I'll need a lawyer and it could draw on for a very long time. I told the cop, "I'm done with this whole thing." I mean, after all, I'm just the neighbor and really have nothing to do with any of this.

So it looks like, after all was said and done, Andy got bailed out and moved back to So. Cal and she stayed there next door for a few weeks, taking all his stuff out, and even though she is charged with attempted murder (she fired the gun), she is out partyin' and havin' a great time selling his belongings.

So things have quieted down as the the the-house-from-hell seems to be vacant. Working on planting in the vegetable garden and the boat mechanic should be towing the boat to his yard today for some work to get it ready for the summer. I've already got the same dock lined up that I had the last couple of years so that's one thing I don't have to worry about.

Lets hope for a great summer,

Bob

Slot Cars on South Shore

Back in the mid 60's Slot Cars were all the rage. One year for Christmas there was a big box for me under the tree. I couldn't wait to tear off that paper to see what it was. After making a mess of the living room with wrapping paper, there it was; a box that on the front had a picture of two race cars battling it out on the track. The driver in the foreground was depicted with a look of fierce determination, wearing goggles and leather gloves. My own Slot Car track!

For those of you unfamiliar with these things, here's what's in the box. A bunch of pieces of snap-together track, some straight, some curved, with each section having two slots embedded into the track and two metal strips that are on either side of the slot allowing two cars to race one another. Then there are two controllers and a 12 volt transformer that got plugged into the side of the track and, of course, two cars. A figure-eight was how most of these were set up but you could make any shape you wanted if you had enough pieces of track. Man, I zipped those little cars around that track for hours and hours, laying on my stomach in the living room. Well, winter gave way to spring and I had to take apart my race track, put it back in the box, and slide it under my bed. The motel was getting busy and my folks didn't want my track taking up so much of the living room floor.

That next summer two big commercial tracks opened, one on Ski Run and another on Hwy. 50, both within walking distance from the Echo motel. I put my controller and one car in a shoe box and walked on over. Now this place was the real deal. 6 lanes, banked turns, and a configuration that was all over; ups, downs, and going under and over. I pay the guy behind the counter for 15 minutes of track time. He turns on the power to my lane and I plug in the controller and put my car on the track and close down on the trigger of my controller. My car goes backwards and kinks over to one side. I take it off the track and the older kid next to me explains that I need to switch the wires that are soldered to the brushes, left to right and right to left. The guy behind the counter calls me over and tells me he'll give me my money back. Then he pulls a couple of new cars and controllers out from the glass case and puts them on the counter for me to see. Way cool! Real sleek bodies with a neat paint job and big fat spongy tires in the back. I turned it upside down and the electric motor made my little car motors look like the toys they were. Also these cars were slightly bigger; my cars that came in the box were 1/32 scale the new ones were 1/24. So I was working at Ski Run Beach and Marina and figured that if I could stay away from the ice cream sandwiches and the pinball machines I could save up to buy a new set up in 2 or 3 weeks, which is what I did.

Those tracks closed after just a few years as popularity waned for the hobby. In the 90's one opened by Keys Blvd. on Hwy. 50 and a few years later he closed. Then another guy I know and his wife had one on Hwy. 89. I bought 3 new cars there (Dale Earnhardt and Ernie Irvan, plus a wicked fast one that was super low with plastic wings and air foils on it). But it was the same story; not enough customers to pay the bills so it, too, closed.

I've still got that original track and all the stuff that came with it. I lost the original box years ago so now it sits in a plain old card board box out in the garage. I've been lugging that thing around for almost 50 years. A boy and his toys! And don't you dare call it junk!

Take care,

Bob

Learning to Ski

Well, it was back in 1962 when my folks bought the Echo Motel here in South Lake Tahoe. It was right on Hwy 50, close to the lake and just a short bit from Ski Run Blvd. which led to the Heavenly Valley ski resort. Along with the 22 motel units and pool came an old 4-wheel-drive; a yellow Willys pick-up with "Echo Motel" painted on the doors and with a snow plow mounted on the front. My dad had never plowed snow before but he figured out how do it on his own.

I loved riding along with him as he plowed the parking lot. We would start at the front of the property, lower the plow, and then push the snow all the way back to the end of the parking lot. Then he’d put it in reverse and make another pass. Once we got a good pile going, Dad would put the clutch to the floor right before we got to the snow pile and we would drift into the mound of snow. It would come billowing over the hood and onto the windshield. We would both laugh as he turned on the wipers and backed up to make another run.

Not one to let a perfectly good pile of snow go to waste, I made a ski and sled run out of it. The front side where dad pushed the snow was a steep drop but short and do-able on a snow saucer. Ah, but the backside of the pile was a gradual slope that emptied onto the vacant property next door: my own private ski slope! But to be honest, it wasn't much more than about 35 feet long, give or take a few feet.

Now the only thing I new about skiing was what I saw on TV via the antenna on the roof. At the time we only got 3 or, sometimes, 4 channels on the little black and white. Remember "The Wide World of Sports?" That was the extent of my knowledge of skiing. But after sending my little brother, Eric, down the back side of the pile on his saucer several times (he was my test pilot), I figured it was time to strap on the skis as the little slope was now packed down. I can still see Eric's face... eyes wide, hands gripping the handles of the saucer as I pushed him off the top, twirling round in circles until he came to a stop at the bottom all the while screaming, "Bobby, Bobby!"

Well, now the moment of truth came. I had to ski. I put on the skis with cable bindings, my rubber ski boots, and bamboo ski poles in hand I pushed off. I made it! I didn't know how to stop or turn, but I made it to the bottom of the little slope with out crashing. Hooray! So this went on for several days and I figured out how to turn and come to a stop. I even put a little jump (okay, it was just a little bump) in the run so I could get airborne for a couple of feet.

The next thing I know, my folks are telling me that my aunt and uncle, along with my cousins, are coming up to visit and will stay at the motel during Christmas vacation. I remember being really excited to show my cousin Woody my ski run at the back of the motel and my expertise(?) at skiing. Why, I was so excited I went to bed that night wearing my ski boots, ski pants, and sweater... all underneath the bed covers, anxiously awaiting the next morning so I could get an early start to hit the hill with my cousin Woody. Now, Woody didn't have any ski boots so he strapped on a pair of rubber galoshes over his tennis shoes and we took turns using the skis and poles to make many runs down the little slope. Great fun!

After Christmas vacation was over, my folks signed me up for the "learn to ski" program at Bijou Elementary which was held at Heavenly Valley. A big help! The Austrian, German, or Hungarian instructors were a bit strict but they really taught me how to ski... graceful, rhythmic, and stylish. Skis close together, weight slightly forward, carving big long wide turns. That got me into some ski racing in junior high as well as four years at high school.

Then, I worked at heavenly for four years where I skied and raced a lot. Eventually, I got sick of the scene as skiing had changed. It was now all about shiny ski clothes, really short skis, and a bunch of people calling themselves skiers... but they really weren't. Just a bunch of yahoos who didn't know what they were doing.

So that got me off the chair lifts and in to cross country skiing, snow camping, and ice fishing. For about a dozen years I did both, Alpine(downhill skiing at a resort) as well as Nordic (cross country skiing and mountaineering) but my knees continued to get worse so I had to give it all up.

So, all in all, it was a good ride, or maybe I should say glide, as I glided for many years on the glistening slopes, carving turns through the trees and the wide open runs. And to think it all started on a little pile of snow at the back of the Echo Motel.

Take care,

Bob (aka: Old Long Skis)