Vending Machine Rant

One night in the Nautilus Marine break room, a tall, bearded, drunken hillbilly staggered into the break room to buy something from a vending machine. He was dressed in a camouflaged jacket and rubber boots. He claimed the change machine short-changed him 25 cents which triggered what can only be described as a complete reversion to savagery.

I recorded his comments in a journal I was keeping at the time:

"A tall bearded hillbilly...claims the dollar bill changer only gave him 75 cents back for his dollar. His initial comment was, 'Hey!...It only gave me 75 cents!! But, hey!...That's all I need!' After he finished his snack though, he started beating on the change machine and yelling for somebody to 'Call the fuckin' cops'. 

He tried to write on the wall that the machine owed him money, but his pen was dry; so he hurled it against a nearby table and sat down with his face in his hands. Soon, he started to demand that somebody, 'Call the fuckin' cops'!!"  

"He says, 'If I robbed a liquor store, they'd call the cops on me; but this machine can rip me off a quarter and the cops don't even care.'" 

"Now he's swaying a lot. He can barely hold his head up straight. He's saying, 'Fuck America' and 'God Damn America' over and over and over again. Now he just added, 'God Bless Alaska'!! He'll be asleep soon." 

"Oh! He got a second wind. He's raving (to nobody in particular, just in case anybody's listening) - 'I live like an animal!...I'm a savage!!...If you don't believe me, if you think I'm full of shit, just live with me for a year - I'll show you how an animal lives'!!! ... 'I've been sleeping by railroad tracks and under trucks for years, usually with no heat"! [Jonnie comments: "ha ha, "usually"?] 'We're living in the end times...and when the cities fall, I'll be thriving'!!"

Packing Crew, Nautilus Marine; Valdez AK, 1991.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Sep. 27, 2004]

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.

Library Answer Line

I used to staff the library answer line.

I was moderately helpful.

Library Answer Line.

Time Saving Tips #1

Clip your fingernails at work.
This will free up more leisure time later at home.

Glad to be helpful, there is no need to pay me.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Feb. 26, 2006]

Stump Removal

It's amazing that Jon Sr.'s property used to look like this:

Todd & Amanda, pre-clear cutting.

Because, now it looks like this:

Post-clear cutting.

And what's the point of having an isolated Alaskan cabin if you don't have a great view?

Once enough trees were cleared, the addition of a gravel driveway made everything look downright civilized:

Uncle Jon's driveway.

After the trees were dealt with, there was still a lot of stump removal, which was probably my favorite task:

Step 1: Chainsaw the roots:

Jon Sr. chainsawing through the tundra.

Step 2: Tie chain to stump:

Step 3: Tie chain to truck & drive:

The stump pops right out, like pulling a tooth, with a satisfying, "craaaack - pop" sound.

The property is pretty much ready, Jon Sr.'s well and septic tank are in place (sidenote: the well site was discovered when a former Salvation Army preacher walked over the property with a dowsing wand). Once the garage/workshop is finished, it'll be time to start building a cabin. No electricity or phone yet, but there is a generator, so he can run his power tools. 

Apparently, extending the phone and power lines a few more poles costs several thousand dollars out there. The custom is to wait until 3 or 4 people all decide they want power, then they all share the cost.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 10, 2005]

The Cone Graveyard

There's no cones

Like snow cones.

Like no cones

That I know.

[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, June 23, 2005]

J Spot

Guess what this is -

My favorite parking spot in Von's supermarket parking lot has been memorialized.

I drive over to Von's every morning at about 5:45 a.m. and park there all day while I ride the bus to work. I'm gone for roughly twelve hours (8.5 working and 3.5 commuting both ways), then I drive back home.

Apparently they re-surfaced the parking lot on Tuesday and, since I wasn't around to move my car, they had to pave around it, leaving a huge unpaved spot, memorializing my favorite parking space.

I think it's cool.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Apr. 27, 2006]

Great Shakeout

Earthquake preparedness flyer for our participation in the Great California Shakeout:

Great Shakeout flyer.

James, the Former Carny

The spider man guy in the previous post was named James, and I really like working with him. In addition to being a former carny, James is also a barrel of laughs. I took notes yesterday and recorded three noteworthy weird things he said or did:

1.)  Upon walking into the break room and finding Ambush Makeovers on the television -

James: "Fuck this! I don't wanna see an ambush makeover!"
[changes station to Judge Joe Brown]
James: "I wanna see someone get hung!!"

2.)  RE: "Day-O" by Harry Belefonte -

James: "Come Mr. Tallyman, Tally me banana" - You know what that means, don't you?"
Me: "He wants the foreman to count his bananas."
James: "NOoo - well, ok, maybe...but what it really means is he wants a guy to measure his dick."
Me: "HAHAHA"
James: "Well, yeah, 'tally my banana'! That's what it means."

3.)  Spider Venom Contest –

James: "Did you know the Daddy Long Legs is the most venomous spider in the world?"
Me: "No."
James: "Yep, but its fangs are so small, they can't break your skin."
Me: "huh!"
James: "Look it up! Or watch the Discovery Channel!!"
Me: "ok."
 James: "And I've always wanted to put a Daddy Long Legs and a Black Widow in a jar together         and see which one would walk out alive."
Me: "YEAH! I want to see too!! Let's do it here at work!"
James: "OK, keep your eyes peeled for a Black Widow and a Daddy Long Legs. And a jar. And keep your gloves on".
Me: "HAHAHAHAHA...OK!"

Other things I remember about James:

1. In the world of day labor, doing something "Mexican-style" means doing it half-assed. I learned that from Jay.  Though the Mexican guys we work with are probably the most competent guys on staff.

2. One day at lunch, somebody asked James, "What would you do if you looked down right now and there was a rattlesnake?"

James said he's always wanted to catch a rattlesnake and if he did, he'd skin it and make a headband out of the skin (with the rattle hanging off the back).

3. I give James a ride back to the Rebel Leady office after work and yesterday's James monologue went something like this:

James: "Did you know the fly is the only animal that can be frozen and then brought back to life?"
Me: "Really?"
James: "Yep - on the Discovery channel they froze one, then thawed it out later and it came back to life".
Me: "Like Captain Ameria!"
James: "Exactly! Freeze me solid and thaw me out in the year 3000! Or better yet, freeze me and thaw me out once there's a cure for AIDS!!"
Me: "hahahaha"
James: "The only other animal that can be frozen and brought back to life is the lobster. You can  freeze a lobster solid, then throw it in boiling water and the fucker will scream every time! You killed him once, now you're killing him again!!...Imagine doing that to a human!"

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, July 16, 2005]

Fuck It, Let's Make It Look Like Spider Man!

Lately, at work, I've been tasked with equipping trench braces.  They are based around hydraulic cylinders. Sizes range from little ones (pictured) to five or six feet long:

Pallet full of freshly tested cylinders.

My favorite task is assembling the cylinder sets because that requires a vice, which means I am at the tool bench inside the shop and out of the sun, often with a radio nearby.

Here's the outside work area where we test freshly used braces, note damage with red spray paint, and drain the old hydraulic fluid:

Brace lab.

I wish I'd brought a camera on Monday - the whole area was covered in huge spider webs. During a lull in production, a co-worker of mine was examining the webs. We're like, "Dang, everything is covered with spider webs," and he suddenly exclaims, "Hey! Fuck it! Let’s make it look like Spider Man!" and started spray painting all the webs red. They were all around us and they looked really cool. Then we just went back to work and I was thinking, "What a fucking cool guy!"

But really though, what a cool fucking guy.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, July 15, 2005]

Go, Wood Chipper!

Jon Sr's Rural Alaskan Property Site.

I had a good time helping my Dad clear his property and roof his garage last month.

I really loved getting out of crowded California - most days, we didn't see more than 1 or 2 cars go by all day. When somebody drove by, everyone would stop and look because it was kind of a rare event.

And I very much loved using the rented wood chipper. The property site was originally just full of trees which Uncle Jon had pretty much cleared out by the time I arrived.

Once all the firewood had been cut and stacked, he was left with a mountain of brush. The locals don't like people burning brush because of the possibility of starting a forest fire (it's a tundra environment, so the ground is covered by a thick carpet of low shrubbery), so we had the pleasure to indulge in running everything through a rented a wood chipper.

It took us 8 hours (!) to clear all the brush.

Wood chippin'.

Just feed in the limbs -

- and out fly the chips:

It turned out an 80 year old former school teacher who lived out there had a use for those wood chips. She wanted to use them to pave her garden walkways, so we took her over a few truckloads and were rewarded by an amazing moose dinner!

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 3, 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]

Cement Mixer

A satisfied Rebel Leady Boy, after a day of making cement:

If you have access to a hard hat, wearing it in the car = extra safety.

I'm being hit with student loan payments already, so while I am looking for suitable employment, I had to come up with some cash immediately, so I returned to my local temp labor agency for some quick cash. Today's 8 hours were spent in Newport Beach, standing right here:

Rebel Leady Construction Site.

 I was originally going to be carrying bricks all day, but when the foreman asked if anyone wanted to make cement, I was like, "I do!"

My mixer.

Normally when I blindly volunteer for something, I usually regret it; but today was so great. Making cement is a pleasure, especially when doing it instead of carrying bricks. It's really easy and there's a lot of downtime where you can just stare at the cement mixer like TV. Or throw stuff in there and watch it get drowned. It's much like watching a laundry dryer full of batter.

Inside the mixer.

One other cool thing I saw today was these little miniature drywallers who were working on STILTS instead of ladders!

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Nov. 4, 2005]

Rebel Leady Orange

 I set up so many signs and cones last week. Truckloads of them at multiple sites. The night set ups are a pretty hazardous, especially with traffic happening, but it's fun.

Truck full of traffic equipment.

Me at the traffic blinker parking lot.

Since all my work clothes are dark, they gave me a cool orange t-shirt with the previously mentioned logo of a bicep coming out of a truck & holding a steel plate on it, so I will treasure that little souvenir.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, June 18, 2005]

Rebel Leady HQ

I begin each morning in this little pocket of blue collar sentiment:

Rebel Leady Strip Mall.

Labor Ready is on the far left. On the far right is a barber shop with the entire outside wall painted like an American flag. In the center is the World of Warriors gun shop. I went in there once. They also sell walking sticks.

I’m planning to visit Alaska in August, so I think I’ll keep this going until then. The work site I’ve been on all month asked me if I wanted a full time job there, but between finishing my MLIS and needing to take a couple weeks off in August, I opted out, though I was conflicted. I know they don't grant much personal leave, especially so soon after starting. It would pay better, but it’s exhausting work and I’m not sure how it would mesh with finishing my Master’s program. I ultimately decided to keep the flexibility day labor until I finish school, then I'll see what kinds of options I have.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, June 7, 2005]

Paperclips

Since paperclips tend to damage documents over time, archivists remove them from their collections; otherwise they can leave rust stains and can sometimes result it tearing the papers they are securing.

Look at all the paperclips that were removed from one particular Senator's papers:

Probably a small trash bag's worth of paperclips removed from one collection.

 I think if the paperclips come from the collection of a famous enough person, archivists should sell them in a souvenir shop instead of throwing them away. It seems like a waste of a perfectly good keepsake.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, July 3, 2005]

Pass the Hardhat

Alright! We set up trench supports in a construction site up in the hills of Newport Beach, which surprisingly looked like a dessert.

Construction site looking down on Newport Beach.

Truck full of trench braces.

I pretty much just managed the chains and ran around being hardcore.

Me about to release the chains.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, June 23, 2005]

Alaska, 1990, pt. 2

Kennicott, 1990.

On the road to Valdez, we took a 60-mile detour to visit McCarthy and Kennicott, an abandoned mining town. It wasn’t the most convenient stop, but we figured if we didn’t check it out then, when would we? The journey involved a treacherous 30-mile drive down a rough dirt road in the middle of nowhere. By the time we reached McCarthy, we had managed to ruin two tires.

Getting to McCarthy is an adventure in itself; you have to cross a river on a hand tram. So, we lugged our flat tire across the river and found a guy on the other side who specialized in tire repair. To our surprise, he fixed the tire for a surprisingly low fee. Considering how far we were from civilization, he could have charged us anything, but instead, he was shockingly fair.

McCarthy itself had a population of barely twenty-something people. It was quaint, but also a bit eerie, especially considering the dark history: years ago, a resident computer programmer went on a rampage, shooting up the town and taking out half the population, which amounted to about ten people. A real testament to the wild side of life in the Alaskan wilderness!

Plant foreman, "Mad" Max, Paul processing, me processing, & me on boat.

Well, after a pit stop in Anchorage, we finally made it to Valdez. We arrived with recommendations for Nautilus Marine, feeling confident with solid references and mutual acquaintances with some of the plant management. However, as it turned out, in the middle of salmon season, Nautilus hires just about anybody.

Icing salmon on the dock, working & playing in the ice house, packing w/ Erin.

Nautilus was hard work and long hours, but it was also a lot of fun. Every week, the community would host "The Feed" at a local church, where fishery workers from all around could come for a free meal. We also made it a point to have a drink at the bar where Captain Hazelwood got drunk before causing the Exxon Valdez oil spill.

Continued from Alaska, 1990, pt. 1

Alaska, 1990, pt. 1

Homer, AK, 1990.

In early 1990, my friend Paul and I began exploring options for an interesting summer job. Nothing stood out until Paul mentioned his aunt in Alaska and the possibility of working up there. Without hesitation, we decided to fly to Alaska and try our luck in the seafood industry for the summer.

At the time, Paul was a far more seasoned traveler than I was. In fact, it was my very first time on a plane. Alaska made an immediate and lasting impression on me. I was captivated by the sight of mountains in every direction, even in the heart of the city. I also fell in love with the cool summer climate and the eccentric people who called Alaska home.

Before the trip, I brought along a lantern, fully expecting to do some serious camping. Little did I know that Alaska barely gets dark in the summer! Fortunately, we were able to store the lantern at Paul’s aunt’s house.

We also bought a beat-up old car, which we affectionately named "The Abomination." It came with four studded tires for winter, though they weren’t much use during the summer. Thankfully, Paul’s aunt kindly allowed us to store those at her house as well.

The "pup tent", Working for Anne & Mean Gene, Ol' Tom Adams, & Claudia w/ customized rubber boots.

When it came to finding employment, we were completely winging it. Ultimately, we decided to drive out to Homer, where we set up camp on the Homer Spit—a 4.5-mile stretch of land jutting into the ocean. From there, we went door to door looking for work until a company called Keener Packing hired us to dig a ditch.

As it turned out, they initially planned to fire us once the ditch was dug. But, for whatever reason, they took a liking to us and decided to keep us on. We quickly became known as "the Pups" by everyone there, a nod to our complete lack of knowledge about fish or Alaska. Our campsite was affectionately dubbed "the Pup Tent."

Salty Dawg saloon, Paul from California, Melissa, Kennicott, the abandoned mining town.

We stayed in Homer through early July, eagerly anticipating the Fourth of July fireworks display over the ocean. However, the spectacle fell short of our expectations—Alaska’s endless summer daylight made it difficult to enjoy fireworks without the contrast of a dark sky.

By then, we realized we weren’t saving any money, so we decided to try our luck in the salmon fisheries of Valdez, which were rumored to offer plenty of overtime. Some of our co-workers at Keener knew the plant managers at Nautilus Marine. One of them even ran dog sleds with one of the foremen during the winter. They planned to meet us there, as we all prepared to jump ship from Keener.

Continued @ Alaska, 1990, pt. 2

True Security Guard Fantasies

In the late 1980s, I had started college and was working a third-shift security guard job in a factory, from about 11:00 in the evening until 7:00 in the morning.

There weren’t too many responsibilities; I would just make hourly patrols. I think it was an insurance thing for them. I liked it because I could study between rounds.

I only bring this up because I remembered another guard there named Werner. He was one of those out-of-shape idiot wannabe cops who thought a low-level security guard job was the same thing as joining a SWAT team.

Anyway, I only bring up Werner because of his messed-up fantasy life. I remember one particular shift change when he started rambling on and on about how he’d love for somebody to try to break into his house so he could shoot them legally. If they weren’t armed, he said, he would put another gun in their hand to justify the shooting.

One night, he drew me a diagram of his fantasy home, which included a large pyramid structure with a hot tub at the top. All three sides of the pyramid were made up of stairs, like this:

Werner's fantasy love-spa.

It was really important to him that the pyramid be tall enough so that he could survey the entire surrounding area from the comfort of his hot tub, ensuring that no one could ever sneak up on him. I couldn't quite understand why he felt so strongly about this, particularly in the context of the hot tub.

As if that weren't strange enough, he shared a fantasy where he was in the hot tub with his wife, surrounded by a stash of guns just in case he needed them. Suddenly, he notices someone trying to sneak up the side of his pyramid.

He said he would climb out of the hot tub, ask his wife to tie a towel around his exposed privates, and then shoot the intruder without hesitation.

As the fantasy continued, more people appeared, coming from all sides of the pyramid. He was being swarmed! He dealt with the situation by firing at everyone, all while his wife kept handing him fresh ammunition.

Werner's action sequence.

???? - What kind of fucked up fantasy is that?

He also was 100% POSITIVE that he could write an amazing screenplay based around that scenario. Maybe that is why he was so concerned about covering up his privates. I don't know why he would care otherwise.

Poor stupid Werner.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, June 16, 2005]