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I was going through some stuff in the garage, and I found this McNeilus garbage truck coloring book.
What happened was, when I was working ordering parts for a Waste Management repair garage, I had recently been laid off from an airplane factory (guess where!)
So when someone needed parts, I would absentmindedly ask, “What airplane is this for?” instead of the truck number. Word got around, and the administrative lady that worked up in the office dug around and found this coloring book to help me remember. (Waste Management people are the best, always improving things and solving problems.)
I never colored in it though. It was to cool to ruin that way, I didn’t have a “Waste Management Green*” crayon, and oh yeah, I’m a grown-ass man.
*They do make “Waste Management Green” spray paint- it’s to cover up graffiti on dumpsters.
My dad bought this model GE radio for my mom, I think for their anniversary? They were listening to it at the breakfast table, it woke me up so I got the treat of having a pre-dawn bacon and egg breakfast with my parents. This was much better than fighting over the Quisp or Cap’n Crunch when all the other Everett brats were up.
I think it was 1967 because they were playing “Ode to Billy Joe”, so I was 7. I don’t know when the radio made the transition from the kitchen nook to the garage, sadly I have inherited it (It was in the back of a closet and hardly plays, I guess dad didn’t have the heart to chuck it, sentimental reasons.)
They make a rebuild kit to make it play AM good as new, and a kit to make it function as a bluetooth speaker; but the handle is broken. I have no idea how a double stitched leather strap breaks right across the top, but this one did. There is also paint on the case but I could clean that off. They made this model for years so maybe I could find a good one for parts. Stay, uh, tuned.
A friend of ours was going through her dad’s hilarity and knick-knack box, and found this old practical joke.
(Everybody’s dad has a drawer of stuff. My dad’s mainly had coins and tokens, one from a place called “The Stork Club” which sounds expensive.)
Anyhoo… The idea here was that you talked into the little microphone/speaker, then you were supposed to “press button firmly” – but the “button” concealed an inverted thumbtack that would impale your finger, much to the delight of the other drunken fools in the room. Probably there would usually be someone so drunk, they would say “Oh! Let me try!”
You have to decide. Lie in the dark with Flicko, or flick his snotty red nose to make the lights come on?
The famed Pioneer Club lays it on the line in this 1948 gaming guide;
“Maybe you’ll TAKE the SLOT MACHINES… or vice versa!” Nevermind the BS below that about being pleasantly surprised… Vice Versa it is, and by the time you leave, you will be well versed in the vices.
This was one of those yard sales with dozens of boxes o’crap on tables in the yard, most with no price. They had I think grandma sitting in the carport taking payment. She had no idea what this little box was, pushed the “Yee Haw” button and cracked up.
I lumped it in with all the junk my wife was getting and got it for a measley dollar! (Actually, free- Teresa paid for it)
The grandma asked what it was, I said it was just a little noise box to annoy my wife. I like to press the “fart” button during dinner.
I got caught up in bidding frenzy and wound up buying this old Zenith Trans-Oceanic at the Saturday auction for forty bucks.
I figured to put a kit in that bypasses the old capacitors and the power tube, but no need! It plays perfectly here, at least on AM radio. I haven’t picked up any
I found the original manual and schematic tucked inside. It was originally owned by a man named Delbert. Boy, you don’t meet too many Delberts these days. I plan to add a dial light and
Also I’ll run a wire antenna out the window, and stay up late some night, bet it will pull in KGO down in San Francisco, as my Orange GE AM radio did with the wire antenna added, when I was a kid staying up at night listening to KING, KOOL, and KJR battle it out for our hearts and minds.
There is something wrong with this, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Apparently pigs used to brush their teeth with their own hair? The “photomicrographs” make me want a hog bristle toothbrush, it looks like it would get between teeth better than rounded plastic bristles.
Ma pig is just set in her ways.
I was in the Cub Scouts a million years ago. Still smarting from my parents selling my train set to pay for the uniform which I did not want to wear anyway.
I think we got on our den mother’s nerves. One time she was driving kids home in her behemoth station wagon, and piped up with, “Let’s play a game! See if you can not make a sound as long as the light is red!” I thought, what a stupid game! There is no skill in it! Anyone can do THAT!
I went to the saturday auction by myself yesterday, but I picked up this little figure for Teresa.
Some guy at the auction thought she “looked Lithuanian” but didn’t explain why. I think Russian?
Looks like she has diverticulitis. Also, she appears to be hiding about 30 pounds of kielbasa in her skirt. That’s a clue.