Van Wrap

OC Public Libraries' promotional OC Stories delivery van wrap, part of the 2013 OC Stories grant project.

Locked In

Sucked.

A God Called Pastor

Came across this walking around in L.A.: Charlie House, A God Called Pastor. He's not getting me.

Morning Mayhem Aftermath

Aftermath from last Saturday's automobile explosion on a pretty recently re-paved road.

Carnage. I should park here so they can't tell I'm dripping oil.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Nov. 21, 2005]

Morning Mayhem

At around 4:15 a.m. last night, I heard a loud BAM! and wasn’t sure whether it came from inside or outside the house. After looking around, I discovered it had come from outside, on the street.

Car explosion.

This happened right next door to me. In fact, in the larger photo, you can see the outline of a car in the lower left-hand corner—that’s my neighbor’s. My car was parked directly behind it.

Apparently, a vehicle came careening down the street and crashed into a trailer loaded with something explosive. In front of the trailer (though you can’t see it through the flames) was a massive tour bus that parks there every six months or so. That caught fire too.

I’m honestly surprised we still have power. The flames reached some overhanging power lines, which started sparking and eventually fell. That’s about when the police showed up and told everyone to get back inside their homes.

Update:
In the light of day, it turns out the trailer contained a racecar or dune buggy of some kind—apparently full of fuel.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Nov. 19, 2005]

Sidekick

Yep, look at me in the Alaskan roadside bat mobile.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 2, 2005]

Mayhem

Two disasters I witnessed this week:

1. An upside down Mercedes blocking 2 of the 55 Freeway's 6 lanes. It was just laying there upside down with its wheels in the air, dead. And 3 girls were smoking cigarettes next to it.

2. We were delivering some trench braces and the onsite backhoe apparently busted an underground water line, flooding the 10-foot deep trench in seconds. We were on the truck and all of a sudden heard a bunch of chatter, then 4 or 5 workmen came piling out of the trench they were digging and soon it was completely flooded and water was overflowing into the street. It was like when someone breaks a fire hydrant in a movie. A kid was coming uphill on a bike and when he turned the corner, a bunch of water was running down the hill at him and he looked really puzzled. Since it wasn't our fault, it was pretty funny, so we were laughing about it; then we loaded are truck really fast before all of our shit was underwater.

Those are pretty much the highlights of the work week. The weekend will be spent polishing off a records management final exam.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, July 29, 2005]

Chipping & Driving

Hot & Spicy or Cheesy: pick your poison for the long drive from Texas to L.A.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 13, 2003]

Driving Stick

1.) Text from an email sent to brother Todd on May 31, 2000, containing a detailed description of my first experience driving a manual transmission. I was working in a factory at that time and the foreman offered me a forklift job if I went through forklift training over the weekend:

I went to forklift training this weekend and all they had was a stick shift, which I had no idea how to drive. It was pretty bad and the instructor was pretty cranky. I about ran the forklift through his wall and I kept laughing whenever I screwed something up, which was making the guy get madder and madder. In all my preoccupation over how to use the clutch without killing the machine, I kept forgetting the basic forklift safety video he'd just showed us. Looking behind you before going in reverse is very important, of course, because you could run into somebody; but it was far from my mind while I was learning how to drive a stick for the first time (in front of an audience no less).

Whenever I'd back up without looking, he'd yell, "You just killed somebody!!" and then I'd laugh really hard because he was so high strung. I was trying to concentrate on not letting the machine die and safety stuff was secondary to me. I also didn't tell him I didn't know how to drive a stick in the first place, so he thought I was just a real fuck-up.

He kept saying, "OK, I should tear up your license right now, but if you can move that crate and put it up on that shelf without fucking anything up, I'll let you have your license".

I'd say, "Alright" then take a deep breath thinking about how to work the forks and keep from killing the machine. I'd get oriented and start backing up, then he'd go "YOU JUST KILLED SIX PEOPLE!!!"

Then I'd laugh really hard and say, "I didn't mean to!"

I finally told him I’d never driven a stick before and he said, "oh, well, you should learn."
One other guy left before his test because he'd never driven a stick before either. After watching me and the instructor for awhile, he just snuck out the door and disappeared.

Anyway, there's a happy ending. The instructor told me I'd not get my license and to come back next week for more training (I was thinking, "Damn. So much for getting that forklift job then"). He took me into his office where he was really cool (I guess he was just acting like a hardass in front of the group). His associate said this sort of thing happens all the time and not to worry about it. The instructor told his associate to put my license on the bulletin board until next week when I would return to earn it, then he went out for the next class.

When he left, the associate said, "Don't worry about it", signed the license and then looked at the bulletin board and said, "There's so much stuff up there. I don't think we'd be able to find your license. It might get lost...I wonder where I could put it so it wouldn't get lost...{wink wink}...Here, I'll give it to you to hold on to and then you bring it back with you next week...{wink wink}...
I thanked him then left immediately...What a cool guy!

When I returned to the factory on Monday, I was SO NERVOUS about driving the forklift on the job. Then I found out it was a automatic, so I'm fine...whew!

2.) That little bit of stick shift experience came in handy about a year and a half later. I was working at a gas station and taking the bus because my car had broken down. The owner of the station had a side hustle flipping old vehicles—he’d buy them cheap, fix them up, and sell them off. One day, he showed up out of nowhere in an old pickup he was trying to move and offered to drive me to work.

On the way, he told me I could hang onto the truck and use it to get to and from work until he found a buyer. That was just the kind of guy he was. He didn’t pay much, but if you showed a little competence, he looked out for you.

Right after I thanked him, I realized the truck was a stick. Aside from that one rough self-taught session and a forklift incident I’d rather forget, I had zero real experience. I figured if I said anything, he might change his mind, so I just nodded and kept quiet.

When we pulled into the station, it was busy—people pumping gas, going in and out of the store, just generally being around. Re-learning how to drive stick in front of all that was not something I was eager to do. So, thinking ahead, I asked him to park behind the station where it was out of sight. I said I wanted to check the fluids, which sounded reasonable enough.

That spot behind the station is where I ended up teaching myself to drive stick. The car lurched, stalled, and died repeatedly. Once I got to the point where I could get it moving without killing it, I pulled out onto a side street—somewhere no one would know me—and kept practicing. I was completely soaked in nervous sweat. If anyone at the station had seen what was going on back there, there’s a good chance they wouldn’t have let me leave with the car.

Econoliner (Road Hog Weekend)

[Originally posted as part of "Road Hog Weekend," on The Real World...Blogger Style!]

When I think of living in Alaska, I think of driving around in a Ford Econoliner from the late 1970s.

My brother Todd purchased our first Econoliner down in Indiana. He added some special features to the original green van, most notably: a set of sexy mannequin legs protruding from one of the back walls:

Todd's customization job.

The legs were eventually removed so he could install bunk beds for his road trip to, and back from, Alaska. I was able to participate in the Green Econoliner's second Alaska trip in 1994 (documented in Van Log '94).

Mel, Laura, me, & Todd: Ready to set off to Alaska.

One of the green Econoliner's cool features was that the walls were covered with yellow shag carpeting. Carpeted walls = comfort:

Carpet.

In Alaska, the green van was more often referred to as the, "green egg van." This is because of a fried egg sticker Todd had adhered to it. People always asked what it meant. They usually took it to be reference to, "This is your brain on drugs." 

The "Green Egg Van" in Seward, AK.

While Todd drove and lived in the green egg van in Valdez, I relocated to Anchorage where I purchased a second, blue, Econoliner from a co-worker. This is the one I accidentally shot a hole in during my first day on a new job.

At the end of the salmon season, when Todd came back through town, the Gill Bros had two Econoliners on the streets of Anchorage. 

Two Gills in two Econoliners.

After that summer, Todd left me the green van and flew back down to Indiana, so I was blessed with two Econoliners.  I drove one and let Donald Kilbuck use the other one. They both made it through my first Alaskan winter. 

The Green Egg van turned back to Todd when he returned the following summer. It was ultimately deserted in Valdez after its transmission went out. Reportedly though, it would still drive in reverse for awhile and Todd tells me they would occasionally take it on a short drive into town in reverse!

The blue van became Donald's and he continued to drive it into the late 1990s when it finally gave up the ghost. By then, it had a steel bar welded to the front, acting as a homemade bumper and a patchy blue pattern from Donald spray painting over rust spots.

Let the Sun Shine: Donald & the blue Econoliner.

The blue Econoliner from my apartment window, Anchorage, 1997.

[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, Feb. 12, 2006]

AK Autos

While I'm recalling Alaska, they had two vehicle modifications that I don't believe are common in most of the lower 48 (states).

1. Studded Tires - Every year, everybody swaps their tires for winter tires which include dull metal studs to maintain traction of frozen roads.

Tire stud informational display.

People sometimes use chains in the continental states, but the studs are better for long-term daily use (winters are a lot longer up there).

They're an extra expense, the unused set of tires (studded in summer, regular in winter) requires storage space, and changing them is another annoying task on the To-Do list every 6 months or so.

2. Engine Heaters - Alaskan vehicles come equipped with a small heater in the engine; it plugs into an extension cord and is necessary to prevent the engine oil from freezing overnight. So, the cars have little plugs coming out of their grills. It's common practice to plug in the car at night during the coldest couple of months of the year.

In Anchorage, modern apartment complexes had electrical outlets available on posts located in the parking lot, one for each parking space.

In Dillingham, we would run an industrial extension cord from the house to the van.

Here is a photo of me changing a tire on the ice, using a lever made from firewood to assist my piece-of-crap jack:

Changing a tire in a frozen driveway.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 29 2004]

Bozeman Radiator Disaster

Here's a good radiator disaster pic:

Catching our antifreeze leakage in cooking pans.

It was in Bozeman, Montana, during our 1994 drive from Indiana to Alaska, when we sprang a radiator leak. We managed to limp into a Napa auto parts parking lot just before the engine overheated completely. We parked and let everything cool down, catching the leaking antifreeze in pans because we were afraid Napa might kick us off their lot if we flooded it with coolant.

As bad as that seemed, things only got worse from there. Among other disasters, our camp stove decided to give up on us too.

Laura with our faulty camp stove.

Things escalated fast after that. I was trying to help Laura with the stove when I managed to set a can of kerosene on fire. I looked down and saw the fluid around the spout starting to ignite. Without thinking, I hurled the can—straight at the Napa store building. It exploded almost immediately on impact.

Here's the result:

Fire at the Napa store.

I guess I was just thinking in terms of throwing it AWAY from the van and opposite of the van was Napa.

That got the store staff riled up more than antifreeze in their parking lot ever could have. Multiple staff members immediately came pouring out of the building wielding fire extinguishers. My first thought was to take a picture (above).

When brother Todd saw the explosion in his rear-view mirror, he just threw the van in neutral - coasted right over all those pans of antifreeze.

Laura fell down and peed her pants from laughing so hard.

It was freaking hilarious.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Feb. 10, 2004]