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Post by Siren on Jul 21, 2006 20:59:36 GMT -6
Was reminded of a really good old movie today, "The Way We Were". There are several scenes in it in which Robert Redford and his college buddy are playing a game, challenging each other with "What was your best ________" questions. For instance, "best used car"..."best summer job"...."best kiss"...."best vacation". I thought this would be a fun game for us, too. I'll kick it off, and y'all can take it from there, if you like. Anyone and everyone is free to kick in a question. And since we can't all be in the same room, talking at once, it's fine to backtrack to a question you didn't get to answer.
Sooooo..."best used car"...
I've been blessed with some good ones. My '66 Mustang was an absolute honey, and did great things for my ego. I could at least pretend the guys were looking at me! But the best, prettiest, most reliable, was probably my '73 Cutlass Supreme - white with a Maroon vinyl half-top, and maroon interior. Had a great stereo, and would go a lot faster than I needed to. Would peel out with the best of them. Sad ending: my mom backed into a pole with it, and I fell asleep at the wheel and side-swiped a guardrail with it. My dad sold what was left.
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Post by Phalon on Jul 21, 2006 21:51:26 GMT -6
Oh, oh, oh - cool idea, Siren!
Best used cars....I'm sure you've heard my stories; I remember writing them once, probably way back in the O2 days.
I've had two - definitely not the prettiest, not ego-boosting, nor classics, but cars that for one reason or another bring back memories.
The first car I bought with my own money was an Oldsmobile Delta 88. It was my Dad's car, and as was tradition in our high school, upon graduation my friends and I painted it. It took some talking into for us to convince Dad that this was imperative; a mandatory rite of passage for seniors, but he relented, and we brought out the water-based paints that we assured him would wash right off after graduation. It took even more persuading to let us leave it as is after he saw how we painted it. We were all on the swim team, and decided to turn Dad's Olds into a shark. A Delta 88 has a huge grill, which we surrounded by even bigger bright, bright red lips, pearly white, sharp teeth, and the words "MAN EATER" in big, bold letters across the hood. Dad gave up the car and drove the Suburban for a while.
It was hot that last two weeks of high school. Hot and sunny. When the time came, the water-based paint washed off - sort of. The lips, teeth, and big, bold "MAN EATER" baked into the car's paint job and became a permanent fixture. Thankfully, it was time to get a new family car anyway, and with the enhanced paint job, the trade in value on the Olds plummeted. My brother chipped in, and we both purchased the car from Dad - at a steal. I didn't mind driving it, but my brother got the oddest looks.
My other most memorable used car had almost just as bad a paint job - an ugly, unusual shade of tan. Dubbed by my friends as the "Butterscotch B!tch" it was a '78 Cougar - back in the days when a Cougar's front end was longer than the interior and trunk area combined. The front end arrived five minutes before I did, and I had to back in whenever I parked. The hood was not the only big thing on the car; the engine was huge and though I'm sure it was not supposed to, the car idled at 40mph. And the backseat!!!! This was the car I had when I first met Hubs. <smile>
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Post by katina2nd on Jul 22, 2006 1:55:54 GMT -6
Cool beans, good idea. Think both you gals have it over me here, best used car was a Mini Minor that I used mainly for getting to and from work, purchased it for a song, had hardly any maintenance performed on it, as a matter of fact I treated it something shocking, yet it just kept going and going, never gave me any problems, that's if you discount the time the brakes just died completely as I was barreling up to an intersection, causing me to execute a hasty left turn just inside a truck that I'm pretty sure was bigger then the Titanic.
Gave it away to one of the bosses when I left work, sometimes wonder if it's still trundling around somewhere.
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Post by Siren on Jul 22, 2006 23:18:40 GMT -6
Great memories, guys. Thanks for the laughs!
Gams, I don't remember you posting about that. Might've been before I joined up at 02. I don't think I'd have forgotten about the "Maneater". Lol! I bet your brother did get some strange looks in that car. And your remark about the back seat of that Cougar cracked me up. You really had to back that car in to park? Boy, there's some American engineering to be proud of!
"treated it something shocking" - kat, that made me lol! I know what you mean about cars like that. They're seemingly indestructable. A co-worker had a battered Isuzu pickup that had over 250,000 miles on it, and had survived both of his sons learning to drive! My current ride, a '97 Honda CRV, has almost 180,000 miles, and has never given me a bit of trouble.
Your story of the near-miss with the truck reminds me of my sis's blue Malibu, the "Blue B*tch" (sounds like your Butterscotch B*tch, Gams!). Gg says that car hated her, and tried to kill her. Once, the driver's door came open, nearly spilling her into the street. Another time, the door blew closed, catching Gg's head like a nutcracker!
And my sis had a much-hated late 60s Chevy Nova with a petulant starter. Only started when it felt like it. And invariably wouldn't when we were running late for school. Also, the car was far too low-slung for our country roads. We drug the muffler off so often, the neighbor once found it in the road and left it on our porch, without even asking.
You know, maybe we need a "The worst..." column. Those might be more fun!
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jul 22, 2006 23:34:53 GMT -6
OMG...LOVE this thread!
Ok...my very first car....'73 Chevy luv...carpeted bed and covered by a nifty camper shell....drove that thing into the ground....too much fun running through the desert in it puddle jumping. Also got my very first ticket in that thing. A friend was sitting on the hood while I was driving...I got a ticket for not having a licensed driver in the cab with me (I only had a permit) and he got a ticket for obstructing the drivers veiw...lol
My most recent one....'93 Nissan pickup....took it to Wyoming and back and all places in between...drove it til the engine leak blew up a piston and it ditched me on the freeway. It's still sitting in my yard waiting for me to give it up...*sigh*
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Post by Siren on Jul 24, 2006 17:59:45 GMT -6
Chevy Luvs. Golly, I'd forgotten all about those! I googled to see if I could find a picture, and found a whole website devoted to Luv love. www.luvtruck.comI can just picture yours with surfboards in the back, you and a hottie in the front, Scrap. Even if it never happened, don't burst my bubble, k? And that story about your hood-surfing pal cracked me up. I bet that cop wanted to tazer both of you! My friend Bart had a maroon El Camino with astroturf in the bed. That poor car/truck/whatever surely withstood some torture. The only fluid Bart ever put it in it - not counting the beer it carried - was gas.
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Post by mabd on Jul 25, 2006 21:08:06 GMT -6
Yeah, what Kat said. I had always wanted a mini... you are a lucky soul to have had one. But, good lord man, be careful!!! I never owned a mini but once while hanging out out on Corfu (er, that should read while classifying some coarse ware amphoras), my boss/best friend and I rented one. She's a wee thing and I'm not Xena by a very long shot, but we had to stagger getting in and out of the car so as not to smash shoulders. Corfu is dominated by a big old mountain and the map had it being a two lane road all the way. I suppose it was if you didn't count the switchbacks which were so tight I had to do 3 point turns. Never did see the other lane -- I could touch the buildings on one side of the road and my friend could do the same. Still it was much fun until the steering wheel/horn decided to make a mad leap for freedom. But we were all safe and sound. Then I meandered back to the USA. I lived near Washington DC then. It has a 6 lane beltway going in both directions. Oh, I had been gone too long. Figured those lane markers were sort of what they are in Italy -- a nice gesture. Carved myself a nice 7th lane before I knew it. I was driving an old Hillman Minx with no synchromesh so I had to slowly let the RPMs get to where I could down shift. Still, I loved that car. Actually, I think I have loved all my cars. Okay, I admit it, when STP bought me my first used truck I was in a state of rapture. Then when she tossed me the keys to the '85 Benz 300cdt (coupe, with turbo diesel) she became a Buddha. Like all of its kin, it has no acceleration. But dang, if you want to rip along at 80+ mph, it just lopes along like a contented cat. I pollute less that even mixed fuel cars do and I get just under 37 mpg. So I'm in love twice over with her I guess. I admit to being serially monogamous with cars. Yeah, I enjoyed the 1979 LeMans with the rear air shocks. I even liked the then 20-year-old Duster that could comfortably house a family in its trunk and really almost did need a phone to talk to the back seat. I prolly would have liked it more if every time I had to make a 90* turn, the power steering didn't quit. But the Benz has turned into a legend in my own mind and has me well and truly besotted. Maeve
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Post by katina2nd on Jul 26, 2006 8:17:04 GMT -6
"I had always wanted a mini... you are a lucky soul to have had one. But, good lord man, be careful!!! I was indeed Maeve, great little car, ran on the smell of an oily rag, would be very handy at the moment, what with petrol prices being what they are. Usually was fairly careful, and the brakes were working fine a few months previously, as I discovered when someone pulled out from the kerb and proceeded to do a u-turn right before my horrified eyes; my head was literally pressed against the roof I stood on the brakes so hard, as you say, not a lot of shoulder room in them, or head or leg room either. Funnily enough, my brothers first car was a Hillman, very stately old thing, had my first driving lessons in it, which continued, much to his credit, even after I wiped out the front fender. I imagine he figured it was beyond my control, as a lady decided to make a right hand turn directly in front of us, and despite my best efforts, our left fender and her back door met in what could best be described as a close encounter of the metal kind. Siren, the name of your sister's car wasn't "Christine" by any chance was it? Reading these posts, it makes me wonder how any of us survived.
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Post by Siren on Jul 26, 2006 18:27:33 GMT -6
Maeve said:
"Still it was much fun until the steering wheel/horn decided to make a mad leap for freedom. But we were all safe and sound."
"Figured those lane markers were sort of what they are in Italy -- a nice gesture."
"I even liked the then 20-year-old Duster that could comfortably house a family in its trunk and really almost did need a phone to talk to the back seat. I prolly would have liked it more if every time I had to make a 90* turn, the power steering didn't quit."
Katina said:
"ran on the smell of an oily rag"
"my head was literally pressed against the roof I stood on the brakes so hard" ~~~~~~~~~
I love the way y'all write. It's like we're gathered around a table at our favorite hangout, swapping stories. The comments above had me literally LOL!
No, kat, GG's car was no "Christine", though they might've been sisters, and twisted ones at that. When I told GG about the tales I posted about that car, she said to tell y'all that I left one out - the brakes failed, and she almost hit a truck. That car really seemed to have it in for her.
Forgot to tell you about my friend Rosalie's car. Had a hole the size of a license plate in the floorboard. You could see the pavement through it. She claimed she would drag her foot through it to help brake, ala "The Flintstones". Thank goodness for floor mats, or she'd have choked on the dust of country roads.
And then there was my college friend Guy, who was restoring a '65 Mustang. Since only the driver's seat remained in it, I had to sit on my folded coat when he took me for a spin. One afternoon, he was tinkering with the engine, and had removed the air filter, exposing the carburetor. He called my friend Brian over to hear how the engine sounded. As Guy leaned over the engine, Brian revved the motor, and a shop rag was sucked into the carburetor. I can still hear Guy yelling, "Turn it off!! Turn it off!!"
Golly, what good times!
Ready for our next category?
Best summer job
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Post by Phalon on Jul 27, 2006 0:01:42 GMT -6
<comes to a screeching halt, and backs up just a bit> Damn, lost another chunk - I wonder if it's an imperative chunk?
Some of the latest comments in here remind me of the worst used car we've owned, (Siren, you're right - maybe this ought to be a Best/Worst column?)...
– Siren
– Scrappy
and
- Siren
We were in the market for a "winter beater" - those pieces of junk people around here drive only in winter to prevent their normal rides from suffering the ravages of road salt, which rusts out the under-body of a car in just a few seasons. That reason, and that my baby, my '89 Chevy S10 with the big chrome wheels, refuses to stop when there is even the lightest dusting of snow.
Mom was looking to get rid of Dad's Suburban, (not the Suburban of the Man-Eater days - Dad had a whole fleet of Suburbans during his lifetime). Dad drove the heck out of it while he was alive; it had over 200 thousand miles on it. But the "bus" sat idle in the driveway since he died five years earlier. It was only used as an "emergency back-up" vehicle, or when my brother needed to pile friends into it for trips to the metal bars in downtown Detroit. Only "beaters" should be driven to metal bars in downtown Detroit.
Hubs asked Brother Number One if it was reliable. He should have asked Brother Number Two - the more responsible one; the one that does not drive to metal bars in downtown Detroit. Scrappy's comment - "took it to Wyoming and back" cracked me up: Bro No. One's response to Hubs was, "She's golden. It'll get you to California and back". That has been a family joke since.
And bro's metal buddies sadly gathered 'round and waved goodbye as we drove off in their "Vomit Comet".
The floorboard "had a hole the size of a license plate", and chunks of something - bushings they are called, and apparently Suburbans have a lot of them because it never seemed to run out - fell off every time we drove it for the two years we owned the Beast.
But the engine was sweet - until it caught fire. She was a "damned good piece of junk" though. That's what the guy from the salvage yard exclaimed as he towed it from in front of our house. California and back. Pfft.
My dream car…..seriously. Without the astro-turf.
HA! So you were the one! The Era of the Cougar took place while I lived in Virginia, then Maryland, and used the Beltway everyday to drive to and from work in DC. Thanks for the trailblazing, Maeve; I used that 7th lane often.
Ok, back into drive....
My best summer job...giving private swimming lessons to the rich kids while I was in high-school. The kids were brats; the parents though were huge tippers - in a high-schooler's eyes anyway.
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Post by Siren on Jul 27, 2006 7:08:43 GMT -6
The "Vomit Comit" - BOLL! My folks have a 90s-era Suburban, Gams, which would certainly vie for the Largest Land Vessel award. It is absolutely huge in every way, an enormous, heavy, dated behemoth. Steers like a battleship, too. I can't wait till they get rid of it. But my young niece wants to get it "pimped" by MTV. She says there's room for a hot tub and a flat-screen tv in the back.
I think you're right, Gams. "Worst Used Car" is too good a category to pass by. Anyone else wanna jump in?
And speaking of jumping in, we'll come back to your job as a glamorous swimming coach, Gams. Man, I always wanted to be one of those ultra-cool, tan-to-die-for, whistle-twirling, faded swim suit goddesses. But I lacked one defining characteristic: being a strong swimmer. That kinda left me out.
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Post by Phalon on Jul 29, 2006 20:31:26 GMT -6
Dang, that's an understatement. Dad made me take my driver's test in a Suburban - the third in his fleet, I believe; the ugliest pea-green color, made even more ugly with the simulated wood-grain paneling down the sides. ICK. Not the type of vehicle a sixteen year old wants to be seen driving. But beggars can't be choosy, and if I wanted to borrow it, I had to pass the test in it. Ever try to parallel park a Suburban? Pfft. But I did it - first try. Passed the test, and don't think I've parallel parked since. Left some type of scar on me, I imagine, (eye roll).
I had a whip too. Oh wait.....
...that was just last night.
What were we talking about again?
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Post by mabd on Jul 30, 2006 3:27:49 GMT -6
The worst used car is really STP's story to tell, but with AT&T buying Bellsouth, she's exhausting herself trying to learn a new system whilst keeping up with her normal overloaded job. My lovely STP can be a bit quirky. About 3 years ago, one of the nephews had dragged her down to the big city for an audio show. She found a deal on some gizmo for 150 bucks, but didn't buy it cause we hadn't discussed it. STP is one of those consumers who research and study almost every purchase. Half of the time, I think she learns so much, she could build whatever it is she is thinking about buying. Except cars or trucks. Those are impulse purchases for her. Two weeks after she would not spend $150 on a gizmo, she drove up in a 20K Durango. Um, we hadn't discussed that at all. About 5 years earlier, her sister had convinced STP to go look at a new pick-up sis wanted. She didn't buy one. STP came home in a new Sebring. But that is one of those things I adore about her...she just doesn't use money the same way other people do. It seems genetic. Her daddy was kind of the same. In the mid-1960s, they got her a Corvair, "unsafe at any speed" Pick-up. Full of rust, they sanded it and primed it. Never got around to painting it. The truck had two grooves cut into the outside of the bed. STP painted those black. She did like the steering wheel set up, but never got used to the drivers seat being directly over the front axle. Her other worst car was a late 50s Satellite which was unfortunately the same two shades of green as Gab's sports bra. Strange as it sounds, I kind of understand this. I mean who decided that gold had value anyway Maeve
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jul 31, 2006 1:19:21 GMT -6
Best summer job.....
I lived and worked in Yellowstone National Park for a few months. What a great time. The scenery was OMG to die for, great weather, and I lived in a cabin 100 yards from the only place in the park you could be drunk and not get arrested for it, the employee bar. Great cheap calzones and cheap booze....what else could you ask for?
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Post by mabd on Aug 5, 2006 8:37:14 GMT -6
Best summer job..... I lived and worked in Yellowstone National Park for a few months. What a great time. The scenery was OMG to die for, great weather, and I lived in a cabin 100 yards from the only place in the park you could be drunk and not get arrested for it, the employee bar. Great cheap calzones and cheap booze....what else could you ask for? That is a dream to be sure. I mean, how much cooler than that can you get?? I am way jealous. Maeve
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Post by mabd on Aug 5, 2006 9:26:07 GMT -6
I was indeed Maeve, great little car, ran on the smell of an oily rag, would be very handy at the moment, what with petrol prices being what they are. Indeed, the price of fuel makes minis make sense. I think one of my worst moments came when I had a van load (12) university honors students whose minds I was busily corrupting in North Yorks. I stopped to get gas and they all piled out to express their wonderment at how cheap petrol was. That is, until I pointed out that 79p per liter was actually quite dear. Some days I just wish I could sneak someone like you into one of my classes, just to shake things up. (I promise I would never use to/too against you.) Isn't there a song about that, "That is What Fenders Are For?" This is the part I really had to answer. Back when I was a FIP (Phalon can explain that), it was cold and snowy. In Chicago, wherein I lived, there is a expressway which has a building straddling it. My windscreen defroster stopped working. I neither stopped or really slowed down. What both my passenger and I did was insane. We grabbed our trusty lighters and used them to defog an area on the windshield that was about 15cm X 15cm and I kept cruising right along. So how *did* we all survive? You almost get wiped out by a lorry, I play the fool... I just shake my head sometimes.... Maeve
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Post by Siren on Aug 7, 2006 19:09:06 GMT -6
A lighter as windshield defogger? Lol!! Great story! I thought y'all might like a photo gallery of some of the fine automobiles we've talked about in this thread so far. My '66 Mustang was a coupe, not a convertible. But this is the exact color, "Emberglow". God, I loved that car! My '73 Cutlass Supreme was white with a maroon vinyl top. As my dad would say, "it ran like a striped ape": Here's a Suburban similar to those my parents and Gams' dad had: Here's one similar to Gams' '78 Cougar, with the back seat made for sin! Here's a Mini Minor, a cousin to the one katina owned, that "ran on the smell of an oily rag": A Luv, like the one that Scrappy went puddle-jumping in: A '93 Nissan pickup, similar to the one that got Scrap "to Wyoming and back" A Malibu, like the one that nearly killed my sister (more than once): A Delta '88 similar to Gams' "Man Eater". Gams, ours was a brown 2-door coupe w/ a cream vinyl top. Had the same engine highway patrol cars had. A helluva car, and a beauty, too: An '85 Mercedes, similar to Maeve's which loped along "like a contented cat": And a Plymouth Duster, which Maeve said could "house a family in its trunk": Don't you wish we still had these beauties? Those were the days!
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Post by katina2nd on Aug 7, 2006 22:37:13 GMT -6
I was indeed Maeve, great little car, ran on the smell of an oily rag, would be very handy at the moment, what with petrol prices being what they are. Indeed, the price of fuel makes minis make sense. I think one of my worst moments came when I had a van load (12) university honors students whose minds I was busily corrupting in North Yorks. I stopped to get gas and they all piled out to express their wonderment at how cheap petrol was. That is, until I pointed out that 79p per liter was actually quite dear. Some days I just wish I could sneak someone like you into one of my classes, just to shake things up. (I promise I would never use to/too against you.) Isn't there a song about that, "That is What Fenders Are For?" This is the part I really had to answer. Back when I was a FIP (Phalon can explain that), it was cold and snowy. In Chicago, wherein I lived, there is a expressway which has a building straddling it. My windscreen defroster stopped working. I neither stopped or really slowed down. What both my passenger and I did was insane. We grabbed our trusty lighters and used them to defog an area on the windshield that was about 15cm X 15cm and I kept cruising right along. So how *did* we all survive? You almost get wiped out by a lorry, I play the fool... I just shake my head sometimes.... Maeve Economy is the thing with cars now I reckon Maeve, petrol prices have reached about $1.45 a litre here [ around $5.80 a gallon ] and are heading only in one direction, so it makes you think twice about jumping in the car and just "going for a drive". I'd be more then happy to sit in on one of your classes, though it may be a bit hard to "sneak" me in as a student; come to think of it, I guess they do have some more "mature" students, so it may work, and you're to/too kind to/too overlook my writing, shall I say, eccentricities. And as for the defroster, been there, done that I'm afraid to admit, not with the lighter [ very creative thinking that ] but with the defroster not working properly, and visibility being, well, let's just say "less then perfect" yet I just kept barreling along. Ahhh, the things we do when we're young and foolish, as opposed to the things we do when we're old and foolish I guess. Great photos there Siren, there's certainly some "gas guzzlers" among them, not many miles per gallon I wouldn't think. Love that classic old Mustang, beautiful car. And that photo of the Mini brings back memories, other then the fact mine was green, and the one in the photo looks in better nick, that's exactly it, great little car.
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Post by Siren on Aug 8, 2006 15:52:22 GMT -6
Oh heavens, kat, you're right. We couldn't afford to drive some of those thirsty beasts now, except to the corner store for a paper on Sundays.
My little Pony car...man, finding that picture brought back memories. You couldn't run the air conditioner, because it pulled down the engine so bad. So I spent many a sweaty day with the windows down and the stereo blasting, my legs and rear soaked in sweat by the time I reached my destination. Icky sensation, and malodorous, too! But that was the price of driving that gorgeous car. I so loved driving it. But it leaked oil out the block like a sieve. When I got my first real job, 3 hours from home, I knew the Pony wouldn't be up to that drive very often. So, I put the Mustang out to pasture, literally, at my folks' house and got a more reliable car. Every time I'm home, I give her a longing look, and have been thinking very seriously of late about getting her running again.
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Post by Phalon on Aug 8, 2006 23:05:00 GMT -6
Cool pictures, Siren. Thanks. You got the Suburban right on - right down to the two-tone paint job, (although a couple in Dad's fleet were "sleek" all-black models). The Delta 88 though; nothing so sporty. The Man-Eater was a newer model - late 70's or early 80's - boxy and square; a family sedan.
The Cougar is almost the same color as the Butterscotch shrew - mine was just a bit more butterscotchery. Imagine this - the guy I sold it to "pimped" it. Literally. He put gold-colored big chrome wheels on it, fuzzy carpet on the dash and steering wheel, and not one to miss a beat, the whole fuzzy ensemble wasn't to be complete without the fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view.
The purpose of the backseat, I'm sure, remained the same.
Regarding Scrappy's best summer job: My sister-in-law had a similar experience; a summer she describes as being one of her favorites. Between semesters of college, she answered an ad out of the back of a magazine, and spent the summer working as a ranch hand on a dude ranch in Montana.
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Post by Siren on Aug 9, 2006 16:09:53 GMT -6
For sure, Gams, Scrap and your sis-in-law had super summer jobs. Some day, they'll have great stories for the grandkids. What fun and interesting gigs those must've been! Mine were pretty commonplace, but were fun, anyway. One summer I worked at our college library, pulling index cards for volumes that had been discarded. Sounds pretty boring, but it was great being surrounded by books all day. It was a temporary position, and I was sad to see it end. Another fun one was at a pizza joint near the university. Free pizza, subs, etc, and a great crew of colorful people. The place was so fun, and such a hub for college socializing, we liked to hang out there even when we weren't working. If you were alone, you could just grab a coke and a table, or go play a video game (I was Ikari Warrior and Karate Champ queen , and someone you knew was bound to come by. I worked at a video store during my last 3 years of college, and enjoyed that, too. Renting VHS tapes and vcrs was new at the time. I remember buying my first vcr, and paying, as I recall, $250 for it. It was a big ole beast, too, with manual tuning that took forever. But I loved it. I was a movie buff from an early age, and remember dreaming of a way to record tv shows the same way you could record music on a tape recorder. Pretty cool to see that dream come to light. Anyway, the video store was great fun, and we got to take movies home for free.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Aug 20, 2006 16:20:24 GMT -6
OMG...Siren..that is my little Nissan truck to a T....well except for the green splashes...but dang...poor thing wish it was still running....I had such a blast in that truck. I may have to tell my state park/trooper story sometime.
No laughing Madam P...
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Post by Phalon on Aug 22, 2006 23:02:50 GMT -6
Do you see me laughing, Scrappy? <snicker>
On the flip side of those best summer jobs, there, of course, has gotta be a worst summer job.
Mine was spent as an administrative assistant/research editor for a small family-owned publication. I was alone in the office the majority of the time; the wife was on the golf course each day, the husband off doing who-knows-what, and the grown, but spoiled son out busy spending their money. I had four hours of work to try and make last eight. The highlight of each day was walking two blocks to the post office box.
When more than one of the family did make an appearance in the office - the husband and wife in particular - they argued with each other the entire time.
It was awful. I didn't even last the whole summer before I'd had enough and quit.
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Post by katina2nd on Aug 22, 2006 23:25:09 GMT -6
I had four hours of work to try and make last eight. Sounds like my idea of the ideal job Lady P, you happen to know if they still need an assistant.
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Post by Phalon on Aug 22, 2006 23:38:39 GMT -6
Growing tired of the leisurely life-style already, Katina? Pfft. And I not telling if they're still in need; I wouldn't want to subject you to such torture.
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Post by katina2nd on Aug 22, 2006 23:57:58 GMT -6
No way Lady P, that's my favourite hobby "doing as little as possible" and I have it down to a fine art now.
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Post by Siren on Aug 23, 2006 21:19:38 GMT -6
I've been lucky that my summer jobs weren't bad at all. I do remember one incident from my pizza joint days. I was helping a co-worker empty a big 30-gallon trash barrel into a dumpster. We were having to lift the thing almost as high as our heads. The trash can slipped, dumping spoiled salad bar makings all over me, from the shoulder down. I smelled so bad, I had to go home and change - car windows down. But the fun I had working there made up for any of the bad stuff.
"I may have to tell my state park/trooper story sometime." - oh come on, Scrappy - give!
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Post by mabd on Aug 25, 2006 19:45:16 GMT -6
Tain't no such thing as being too, er, mature, for my classes. It makes my job easier and a heck of a lot more fun. And your writing is fine. How about a trade? You pick a time period (*not* the Middle Ages) and I'll learn ya that -- if you'll teach me film. This could be fun! Maeve
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Aug 25, 2006 21:13:12 GMT -6
"I may have to tell my state park/trooper story sometime." - oh come on, Scrappy - give! LOL..I really shouldn't......it's not a story for polite company.
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Post by Siren on Aug 25, 2006 23:11:22 GMT -6
*looking all around* Since when is this polite company?
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