So... Once Upon a Time...

orbital

Flashlight Enthusiast
Joined
Feb 8, 2007
Messages
3,260
Location
WI
+

Three weeks ago I went into my garage & my lights wouldn't turn On,, tried my garage door opener / nothing.
Made the small hike down to my basement & saw my breaker tripped, thought "good it's just that"

Twenty minutes later checked my breaker box & it was tripped again,, so went into the garage & unplugged everything & turned everything off.
....now the breaker was tripping instantly.

///ISSUES///

My house is a good 100 years old & I'm not certain on the age of the underground wiring leading to my garage (at least 75' away from my 200A breaker box)
Had my electrician come out & yep, it was the underground wiring,, f**phixss*r

Fast forward,
Made the decision (since it was to be trenched up anyway) fully went for it with a 220V setup upgrade in my garage.
I don't really do home improvements, but this had to go under the 'file' of Home Improvement $$$
Having a good electrician is key; really clean work & never a question on my request for larger gauge wire / putting in a full 50A 220V outlet.
As of yesterday: everything is now at 220V code in my garage.

So you ask, 'what's the point of this post'?
well when the lead guy was leaving I gave him an 18650 powered Osram thrower (figured he didn't have anything like that)
..he said he didn't & would take it on his camping trip over the weekend.
I know that light will throw several hundred yards & it'll blow his socks off.

With battery, $35 light setup could pay dividends in the future..ya know

or
maybe another CPF user :cool:
 

bykfixer

Flashaholic
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Joined
Aug 9, 2015
Messages
16,829
Location
My own little Idaho
Image is everything.

That was a phrase a dude I associated with through work used to repeat often. For the longest time I did not understand the value of that as everybody seemed to consider the guy a cross between Magnum PI and Fonzy back then. Women would swoon, and men would stop talking when he entered the room. Now for some reason he let me see his soft underside as he tried to teach me the value of "image is everything". To this day I do not know why he picked me but I'm glad he did.

Flash back to about 1990. I was a government employee who thought I was a community servant. In a small town community servant meant the same as a big city. Join the right clubs, make friends with the right crowd, "join the coffee club" I'd always say as I politely declined membership to those clubs or dinner with those people. I had a young family to raise and an old house to restore. Plus I got the distinct impression I would stand out like a sore thumb in those circles.

Now as a community servant I attended social gatherings as work required, retirement dinners for the mayor, public hearing meetings and such. But I was my man. I marched to a different drum beat so thinking back, perhaps that made some folks uncomfortable.

Enter Mr Image. I'll call him Willy although that's not his real name. Willy owned a local high end steak joint and worked for a natural gas company. The restaraunt was where all the "coffee club" hung out after 5. Many could hardly afford their mortgage but that place got them noticed. Willy had a knack of causing half drunk politicians and social climbers his steak was the best steak on planet earth. His schtick was send a half dressed dame or young stud to the table with a big slab of beef, let the customer decide how thick to cut it then cook it on a griddle smothered in butter.

Now they were pretty good, but my charcoal grill could do a great job at 10% the cost. Dude made a small fortune each night on cocktails and steak. At his job with the gas company everybody knew he knew where every gas pipe was installed since about 1977. Whenever they installed new pipes in nice neighborhoods he'd have them place rye grass seed in the soil piles to be used to backfill the trench. That way if the dirt wasn't topsoil brown in 3 days the trench would have grass growing anyway. The homeowner had the impression that orange dirt and rocks was actually better for growing grass than topsoil.

One day he picked me up and took me for a ride. He said "young man I'm going to teach you something today." We stopped at a local motorcycle shop first. The owner and Willy rode bikes at Daytona every February. Willy was there to pick out a bike for that year. Not to buy, or rent, but to ride for free. See the owners son and the owner thought Willy was so cool it was an honor to let him ride the highest priced bike in the place at Daytona. Once he'd picked out his choice he advised the owners so he needed to trailer it to Daytona. The owners son gladly obliged ole Willy. "We just got in a closed trailer just for you Willy". But Willy wasn't going to pull a motorcycle behind a truck for 12 hours. The owners son did that.
As we left he laughed and said "image is everything big daddy"……

Next we went to a job site where the workers were trying to find a gas line from the 1970's. They had been looking for 2 days to no avail. Willy pointed to a dent in the ground and said "dig here". Ten minutes later they'd found the pipe. "Yay!!, thanks Willy" the crew hollered. Walking away I asked how he knew where the pipe was. He laughed and said "big daddy I didn't have a gd clue where that pipe was but they don't know that"……"image is everything"……

Willy took me on a few more of those rides before I left the government job. One day I understood what he meant. I never wore a wrist watch but one day decided to try an experiment. I bought a few watches and took notice how some people treated me each time I'd wear a certain watch. If I was around a bunch of propellerhead types a digital watch did the trick. Around gearheads a dark face analog watch with a leather band did the trick. In some circles a Mickey Mouse watch mattered. It was crazy but Willy was right. I tried it with shirts, shoes, ball caps (or no ball cap), and even the words I chose or remain quiet just to see how it works.
Image is everything.
 
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aznsx

Enlightened
Joined
Apr 24, 2015
Messages
646
Location
Phoenix, AZ USA
Image is everything.
BF - I gather that community was a fairly small one? 'Bout how big, if I may ask. True that this could be any size place, but I'm just curious.

Back where I come from, the phrase for a guy like Willie was "big fish in a little pond". It wasn't generally used in a complimentary way. There were always a few around, and it must be said, they generally 'did well'. There were always enough like that bike shop owner around to make sure of that. Never hung with that crowd - not my style, or 'image'.
 

bykfixer

Flashaholic
CPF Supporter
Joined
Aug 9, 2015
Messages
16,829
Location
My own little Idaho
AZ, it was not Mayberry or Metropolis. We had 4 cops and a fire chief back then. It was what some call a bedroom community. One where most leave it from 9 to 5 and on weekends they stay at "the lake" or "the river". I suppose some would call it "the suburbs". Now days it's a very diverse community where a variety of ethnic groups and incomes are well represented, and about 50 cops now.

The local "in crowd" played soccer back then. Now there's a skateboard park in the middle of the soccer complex. My family had lived on a farm that was sold off parcel by parcel as the town grew. So I was sorta like one of the Beverly Hillbillies to many in the community. But they always knew my name when their car broke down or lawn mower needed repairs.
 

Poppy

Flashaholic
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Joined
Dec 20, 2012
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6,962
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Northern New Jersey
A long long time ago, in a Galaxy we call the Milky Way, before there were light sabers, or cell phones, I called a girl friend and didn't catch her at home.

The next day, I called her again, and told her I called her the previous night.

Her response was... "Oh... I was out celebrating Hump Day!"

What!!! Hump Day!? And I missed it!???

Well friends, tonight is hump night eve.
Go out and celebrate it tomorrow. :)
 

bykfixer

Flashaholic
CPF Supporter
Joined
Aug 9, 2015
Messages
16,829
Location
My own little Idaho
While in a Golden Corral this evening I heard a familiar voice say "whatcha say old man?" as Mrs Fixer and I were deciding where to sit. At first my thought was nobody remembers me anymore so they must be talking to someone else…then it dawned on me "paver Ed does" and it was his voice I heard.

I turned around to see where Ed was but he had gotten so old and give out he looked like a black Clint Eastwood. Hair all frazzled and his face was all skin and bones. I spoke to who I thought might be him and sure enough it was. I knew Ed in the 1980's when he worked for a paving outfit. He was a huge Washington Redskins fan. Then one day he said "today's my last day here". I figured like many in his profession he'd found a better paying job. I asked who he was going to work for. He chuckled and said "I'm retired"…… "my son just signed a 5 year contract with the Redskins", Holy cow, I heard other paver dudes say Ed's son was good at football but Jiminey Cricket, a 5 year deal!! And the Redskins too.

That was that. Ed retired. Then one night when I was dating Mrs Fixer I heard a voice in a Golden Corral say "whatcha say old man?" and it was Ed the paver. After a bunch of years he remembered me. I remembered him too because he was always happy, and made sure folks around him were too. He has a distinctive voice similar to Johnny Carson show announcer Ed McMann. We spoke about life a bit and went our separate ways.

A few times we went to Golden Corral Ed was there with his wife. One time I asked him "doesn't your son play pro ball?" He said "naw he retired"…"yeah, how'd he do?" See Ed remembered I had stopped watching football on tv the night Lawrence Taylor broke Joe Theisman's leg on Monday night football and they kept showing it over and over. He said "well he did ok with the Redskins, but when he played for the Packers he got some super bowl rings and played in the pro bowl a few times, but decided it was more important to stay home with mama" (meaning his wife).

Tonight Ed's son was with him at the Golden Corral. You'd never know his son was rich and famous. Yeah, he and his wife were well dressed but in a humble way. He walked his pop to their car a Ford Fusion, keeping him stable as Ed walked weakly and slow. Then he opened the car door for his wife……one of those really nice, big Mercedes sports cars, got in a drove off. It was a real pleasure seeing Ed after a few years and since he still remembered me it was more of a pleasure.

I do hope to see Ed again someday. If I do I'm going to say "Ed, what is your last name?"
 
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