hanging out

So i've been working in the bay area for 6 weeks. Usually i try to work 9 or 10 hr days since I'm out of town and don't have much else to do. So i finished my 8 hr shift framing and headed down to get a soda take a break and then headed over to another house to install some lights in the garage.
This garage had no sheetrock on the ceiling and was just exposed rafters. I took down some old school outdoor flood lights and was putting in florescent one. The problem was I didn't bring a ladder since I had been working out of my car. The only ladder they had that was tall enough was a giant antique wood orchard ladder. It was pretty much just like this one. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
So the owners left for the evening and I was working by myself. I was on top of the ladder when the one legged side of the ladder slipped out and the whole ladder collapsed. I had thought to myself that it could happen since the ladder was old and not very stable and I was using it on a smooth concrete floor. Anyway as the ladder slid to the floor I grabbed the rafter and was left hanging there from the rafters. It was about 15 feet to the concrete floor. I had my tool belt including my notorious 32oz hammer that was sure to smack me in the ancle however I landed. So there I was suspended 12 feet in the air with nobody around and I thought to myself once again.... I didn't sign up for this $#@!

SHE WAS SO FAST!

Up until high school I lived out in Millville, pop 1,000. Living in the country we didn't really have next door neighbors, but over time I met two kids who lived on my street. They were both Filipino and I quickly got a lesson in culture. The kid that I knew for most of growing up lived on the property that bordered ours his name was VJ short for Vecente Jesus. I met him the summer between my 2nd and 3rd grade year. His father was full blooded Filipino who had joined the army to get citizenship, and his mother was full blooded Mexican. She used to tell us that when the train first came to her grandmothers village in Mexico, they put hay on the tracks so it would stop and eat it. At some point in the more expounded version of these blogs I will mention many cultural surprises i encountered growing up, but for now I will stick the main one that had to do with this blog.

Vj's dad having grown up in the flippies and immigrated to San Fransisco was acquainted with what some would call a gang culture. I can remember him teaching me how to use a butterfly knife when I was 8, and shooting a Tech 9 (google the image). Both of which were illegal at the time. As we became more into all this we would spar with each other as well. I was a skinny white kid who wasn't a very good fighter so it didn't take me long to realize that I was getting my butt kicked on a regular basis. We decided we would do weapons sparing with a bow staff and Filipino fighting sticks (google) with pads on them. I was pretty good with the sticks and learned to hold my own in our "sparing tournaments"

As luck would have it we moved in to town my freshman year of high school, and i lost touch with VJ shortly after. My mother told me that I could take Karate after school until basketball started. We went down to a dojo and they let me pick what type of martial art I wanted to train in. Well immediately I was drawn to fighting with Filipino fighting sticks so I got permission to take Arnis Jitsu which is one of the few forms that they let you train with weapons immediately. I loved it.... and I was pretty good at it. It wouldn't be long until I could run into my old friends on the street and kick the crap out of them with my new found sticks...... Not too sure what I was thinking.....
So i got a uniform (a white gi) and began learning what I needed to to test for my white belt. This didn't take long so all I had left to do was attend three open sparing sessions and I could test for it. Open sparing was at night and all people from all styles who were interested would come put pads on and pair up. Being new I didn't really know anybody and so as people showed up and paired up I was kinda left out. After a few minutes a girl walks up to me and asks me if I would like to spar..... Well I couldn't say no.... there was nobody else for either of us to match up with. So I agree and she takes off her jacked..... only to reveal a brown belt. I was secretly hoping she would want to spar with weapons but i her art (taiquando) weapons were seldom used. So we go off and square each other, bow, and raise our hands to fight. It was at this point I began to realize that I had no clue how to fight with my hands. She hit me square in the nose. I stepped back thinking "well that's embarrassing" didn't hurt to bad but she still landed it right on my nose. Long story short.... she hit me square in the face so many times i lost track. My eyes began to tear up from being hit on the end of the nose so many times.....SHE WAS SO FAST!!!! After a few hits its not like I didn't know what was coming..... I just couldn't seem to stop it. She hit me again, and again and again and again. Until I think she felt bad for me. After a while she asked "Do you want to take a break?" I replied with all the confidence I could muster "Well..... If you want to we can." And with that I went and got a drink of water and tried not to look at her the rest of the night.

Money for Nothin and chicks for free

Memoir 21075

As promised to my few but faithful followers.... not to worry the book deal is coming....


So I was 21 and living on Maui. I moved over there about 4 weeks before I turned 21 and lived there all summer. Our plan was simple, my friend put it together for us so we had two condos, one for the girls (four of them) and one for the guys (4 of us). We paid our rent before we moved over there so all we had to do was work for enough money for food and fun. I waited tables at night and surfed all day.... The life

It was in early July we decided to take a trip to Hana. Some of you may recall the world famous road to Hana, which entails 57 one lane bridges. We booked a cottage for one night, filled up our car with gas and headed out on the road. Our car was an early 1980's stationwagon which we had rented for three months from a rental agency called "good Karma rentals"..... and our car depended on just that. At one point during the summer we had to stop using the rear hatch door 'cause the hinges had rusted through and the door began to fall off. Lisa, myself, and our dear friend Todd were the only three who were on the lease to drive it. Todd was driving when I collected the money to fill up the tank. When I filled the tank up there was $8 left over, we agreed that I would keep it and put it in the tank on the way back since we would probably need fuel by then.... And that's when it begins to be interesting....

On the ride home we were on our way across the island from kahaluui to Kihei (the home stretch) We didn't need any more fuel so they asked me to divide up the money. I had purposely got all ones since I knew everyone would be expecting something. Todd was driving, Lynette was in the front middle, I was front window, and the other girls were in the back. I handed out dollars and said "one for you, one for you, one for me..... One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me..... It all started as a joke and I ended up with the extra two dollars.

After a very short and subtle chuckle from the front seat a voice from the back says "haha very funny now divide up the rest" Now granted at this point in my life I had failed calculus twice.... but I was pretty sure I didn't have any quarters on me to divide up two dollars between six people.... and I was also pretty sure the 50 cents a person wasn't going to break anybody or make them go hungry. So realizing that they were serious about wanting there money back right then I began to chuckle and said "I apologize I usually keep a minimum of ten quarters on me but today I don't"....

They began to be a little agitated and I thought it all the more ridiculous. So without warning I hatched a new plan... I said "I know how we can make this easier" and I rolled my window down and threw out one of the dollars. Well needless to say they didn't find it nearly as funny as I did. I was busting up laughing and They were pissed.... Todd was trying to keep a straight face 'cause he was friends with them too and knew they took this kind of thing very serious, but also had a good enough sense of the situation to realize what I was doing was incredibly funny. .....

So I tried to remain calm and said "relax... you just made a homeless guy's day, he'll find the dollar and be able to get something to eat." at this somebody chimed in "yeah ... well... he'll probably walk up and down the road looking for more." To which in one swift motion I rolled down my window and said "your probably right.... and I threw the other remaining dollar out the window."

Now I was laughing, Todd was laughing, Lynette was amused but not really saying anything, and everyone else was IRATE! That trip marked the end of the times when we all would hang out together and enjoy each others company. One of the girls did not care for me too much and all summer it was a growing tension..... So i think everything I did that may not have been times worse. I will elaborate more on this in the section of my memoirs devoted to my "unparalleled success with the ladies"

turning 30

Now taking signups for:

Solo Flying
Golf
YMCA
Lunch
Roadtrip
Maui
Surfing
Skydiving
BBQ

TGIF

It's Friday.... up the mountain I go.
I'm heading to do a little warranty work on the large custom home we built about a year ago.
A little boring background:
The owner says that he hears water dripping in the wall when he runs the shower upstairs. Water damage is the mother of all warranty issues so we head up there quickly to resolve this. Upon further investigation we find that the noise is not a leak but only occurs when hot water is run down a cold pipe, causing the pipe to expand and rub against the wood blocks it passes through. The noise stops after the pipe warms up, and the same thing happens when it cools and contracts.

So I crawl under the house through a maze of foundation walls which makes you zig zag back and forth until I reach the location of the pipe. I take with me a hammer, flashlight, and chisel. first I determine there is no water dripping from the pipe and then I proceed to chisel out the wood around the pipe so it won't rus so tightly against wood. As i am doing this the light is shinning directly up on the block I'm working on. There is limited space under the house so you pretty much have to lay flat on your back on flat on your belly to fit under the joist. I am widdling away and suddenly i hear a kind of snort and growl about 8 feet away. It took me a moment to register that there should not be any noise like that under the house and it must have come from something.... I hear it agian (only about 10 sec. apart) I franticly drop my hammer and grab the flashlight and shine it tward the noise... i see a grey head and eyes start to take a step tward me and I yell... it scurrys away.... it was just at the nearest passthrough so i barely got a glimpse of it.... It looked like a possum or a muskrat or i don't even know.... My first thoughts were not very pleasent. A racoon, a badger, anything like that could just tear me up under there.... I was confined so i couldn't even move quikly and i was completely spread out and there wasn't enough space for me to curl up to protect myself. Its dark, I can't move quikly, all I have now is my 5" long wood chisel and a light in my other hand.... So basicly I'm thinking I'm going to have to defend myself against a wild animal with nothing more than a sharp screwdriver. So i grew up around animals in the country and I think you never loose that sort of comrodery with nature... So I start making intimidating noises, whistling high pitch thinking it might have sensative ears.... i'm trying anything i can to give myself the upper hand as I am stretched out exposed in the dark, immobile with a badger a muskrat or a racoon.... All the while knowing they could just (parden the expression) fuck me up! --but that is verbatum of what was in my mind.
I happen to be working with my father that day and when he hears the commotion he comes over to the access under the house... I yell to him to stay there..... as I weave my way back around the maze of foundation walls I also began to think that if I had anyone still working for me... i wouldn't be the one down here with a badger.... but then i also realized Im not sure workmans comp would cover an attack by a badger as a work related injury. (can you picutre it... I'm trapped under a house with a badger --very much in his ring--- and these are the thoughts that pass through my head) So crawling on my belly making intimidating noised and whistling, hissing and shining the light everywhere i work my way out. When I get out I stand up and tell my Dad what happened, and he asks "where is my hammer?" at that point i realized i had dropped it when i first grabbed the light. I told him it was still under the house if he wanted to go get it, I could tell him exactly where it was but under no circumstances was I going back for it. So I have to buy him a new hammer... you do the math

New hammer = $25

Facial reconstructive surgery + wild animal vaccinations = (anyone know?)

If you want to get to a picture of what might have happened to me follow the link below

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=La9eWGJNs4Q

At least its Friday and I'm taking the weekend off!

sleepless nights

So it has come to this.... a few urgings + an overall sense of non-contribution + sleeping in too late and staying up too late + introspection and just plain bordem = Jeff has a blog

Well as I find myself approaching 30 I tend to reflect on certain things...

Am I the only single person in redding pursuing a career in a seemingly dead end job?

Is writing on this thing from time to time going to make me feel like Doogie Howser? (people used to tell me I kinda looked like him..., my question is; Is he going bald? Does he look 38-according to a recent poll

Home is where you hang your hat..... really? 'cause recently I find myself hanging my hat on the step ladder I sleep next to in a closet of a jobsite, and let me tell you.... It don't feel like home

They say the rich get richer.... and I have to agree. Every time I reflect that we are in a slow economy and I should save more and spend less, I eat at home and try to work more, however due to the lack of work and the fact I'm at home all the time I get depressed and go buy a Reses Blizzrd and spend money

A little bit about work:

Work is work... and things are looking up. We now have a signed contract on a 2 month job... I will say times have changed... The job is adding on a mother in laws master suite onto a mobile home in happy valley... work is work

In a recent kitchen remodel, a consultant from our company designed a sewerline to drop from the second floor into one end of a kitchen island, and then wraped it in a decorative small cabinet... to save about $1,000 on a 100,000 overall cost. The intent of this job was to open up the kitchen and family room. In a related incident to save an additional $5000 he decided to leave an existing 4' wall floating off center in the middle of the room.... when questioned his reasoning was well this jobs not perfect... they are going to have a sewer line drop in the middle of the kitchen so an out of place wall should be no big deal..... at this i was amazed to me this is like loosing one of your toes in an accident an then cutting off the same toe on your other foot so they will match... according to the math.... I'm speechless

Memoirs coming soon

Jeff