Random Thought Thread

My father never gave me permission to drink...I just purloined from the occasional liquor bottles that he had received as gifts, from the shelf in his closet (while in my teens).

I thought my parents would never figure it out since they weren't drinkers but for the very rare occasion, and I painstakingly rearranged them.

My mother disabused me of that notion many years later. 😂
 
I just spent $100 on lumber for Jo and Ben to convert into firewood

How many practice swings does that equate to for $100 worth of wood? Probably not a lot since Jo & Ben perform at a very high level.

Hobbies are getting more expensive like everything else. I notice it reloading with top quality bullets & brass (when I can find them.) Add in travel expenses to follow your passion and it suddenly puts a damper on doing as much practice as you want to do.

Phil
 
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My grandpa was my hero and role model. He taught me woodworking. Sometimes in my shop I will sit on a bucket with a piece of walnut and some sandpaper. Walnut was his favorite and the smell of walnut brings memories flooding back.
I felt the same about my grandpa. He was a mechanic so I spent every minute i could in the garage with him. I was the official tool hander. I cant smell oil, gas and grease without being transported back to that dirt floor shop. Its also where I had my first pull off a bottle of Jim Beam!
 
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I felt the same about my grandpa. He was a mechanic so I spent every minute i could in the garage with him. I was the official tool hander. I cant smell oil, gas and grease without being transported back to that dirt floor shop. Its also where I had my first pull of a bottle of Jim Beam!
Mine was a master machinist. (Many years at the Brooklyn Navy Yard.)

He used to build the coolest little inventions and contraptions that kept me mesmerized as a kid.
 
I forgot to add, C CHNeal , that my (late) father had 8mm home movies of my aunt's wedding when I was about three years old. At the reception my grandfather hands me a can of Ballantine beer. When he took it back from me after I took a swig, I punched him in the stomach (not in anger, but lovingly).

My mother also tells me that as a kid I chewed her cigarettes so once she lit one up and stuck it in my mouth. When I didn't cough she knew she was in for several years of trouble. She also tells me I had my first gray hair at about three.

It was tough growing up in Brooklyn back then.

Nowadays my entire family would have been imprisoned for child abuse and endangerment.

🤣
 
I forgot to add, C CHNeal that my (late) father had 8mm home movies of my aunt's wedding when I was about three years old. At the reception my grandfather hands me a can of Ballantine beer. When he took it back from me after I took a swig, I punched him in the stomach (not in anger, but lovingly).

My mother also tells me that as a kid I chewed her cigarettes so once she lit one up and stuck it in my mouth. When I didn't cough she knew she was in for several years of trouble. She also tells me I had my first gray hair at about three.

It was tough growing up in Brooklyn back then.

Nowadays my entire family would have been imprisoned for child abuse and endangerment.

🤣
That Ballantine Ale was a weakness of my Dads. He like to take a 6 pack into the back yard to grill burgers for us, burned the damn burgers every time but did remember to drink all the beer!
 
My grandfather, as I recall, drank the Ballantine beer in the gold colored cans. I, however, developed a taste for their green bottled ale back in the day.
Yep the green can ale. I don’t know what was in that stuff but it would kick my old mans butt. He could drink a case of Budweiser and a pint of Jim Beam while rebuilding an engine and that thing would run like a top, 6 cans of that Ballantine and he couldn't cook a freaking burger!!!
 
Yep the green can ale. I don’t know what was in that stuff but it would kick my old mans butt. He could drink a case of Budweiser and a pint of Jim Beam while rebuilding an engine and that thing would run like a top, 6 cans of that Ballantine and he couldn't cook a freaking burger!!!
It was that NYC water...

(I still have several of my grandfather's hand tools, his mandolin, and his pocket watch which I showed recently. My most treasured possessions. Gone 60 years, this year.)
 
He was also the one that got me started on pocket knives at age six or seven. Of course, I lost all of them through holes in my pockets, or while playing stickball or football in the streets growing up. I can remember several old Imperials and Uticas from back then...but not a one remains.
 
He was also the one that got me started on pocket knives at age six or seven. Of course, I lost all of them through holes in my pockets, or while playing stickball or football in the streets growing up. I can remember several old Imperials and Uticas from back then...but not a one remains.
I always wonder about the guys that still have that first pocket knife. How the hell did they manage to hang on to them? As you said between the ball games, screwing around in the school yard, wading in the creek and just general being a kid i lost probably my first 10 knives! And the ones I didn't lose I broke doing dumb kid stuff….

I do envy the guys with them however. What I wouldn't give to have that first Buck 303 back in my pocket. I knew my grandpa was real proud to tell them man at the hardware store to “ give the young man what he wants”. He said young man and not boy for the first time. Damn I miss him and that knife.
 
I always wonder about the guys that still have that first pocket knife. How the hell did they manage to hang on to them? As you said between the ball games, screwing around in the school yard, wading in the creek and just general being a kid i lost probably my first 10 knives! And the ones I didn't lose I broke doing dumb kid stuff….

I do envy the guys with them however. What I wouldn't give to have that first Buck 303 back in my pocket. I knew my grandpa was real proud to tell them man at the hardware store to “ give the young man what he wants”. He said young man and not boy for the first time. Damn I miss him and that knife.
Granted it's only been 30 years, but I thankfully still have the Marlboro SAK I got around age eleven, maybe twelve. I remember peeling the miles off empty packs I'd find littered around town for months. When I finally had enough to get the knife I convinced my dad to fill out the form and mail it in for me.

Aside from two small corners missing on the covers it's still intact. With how frequently I carried it and how many adventures it accompanied me on I can't believe I still have the thing much less that it's in once piece.

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My father never gave me permission to drink...I just purloined from the occasional liquor bottles that he had received as gifts, from the shelf in his closet (while in my teens).

I thought my parents would never figure it out since they weren't drinkers but for the very rare occasion, and I painstakingly rearranged them.

My mother disabused me of that notion many years later. 😂
My first taste of alcohol was around age 4 or 5. My parents shared a Christmas toast with a bottle of Black Cherry brandy that my aunt had given them, and my brother (2 years my senior) and I each got a teaspoonful.

Well, the stuff tasted like cherry cordial with a zing. My parents didn't drink, so they hid the bottle.

My brother and I searched high and low, and found the bottle. Over the following year, we proceeded to sneak down every so often and sneak a teaspoonful each.

The next year, my parents went to grab the bottle at Christmas... "Why, you little rascals...". Yeah, we'd just about emptied the half full bottle over the course of the year, a teaspoon at a time. 😂
 
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