Saturday, January 9, 2016

Thoughts from my Coffee Cup (con’t)


Just noticing the Company coffee cups we are now using, Keyed more memories than I could list.

I never advertised our company. I was blessed with word of mouth advertisement. I did buy advertisement material like the cups.  One year I ordered the ‘Mont-blanc’ pens (?)(copies). They were good and held up well. The banker and my attorney really did like them because they looked impressive on their desks. I guess they took the place of the ‘Cross Pen’, remember them?  Over the years.  We had houseplan books, hats, cups, Balloons, key fobs and  wooden rulers, with the company name on them.

One year the Chamber of commerce convinced me to do a float in the Christmas parade. I intended to keep it up, but the idea fell by the wayside.


I did build custom houses, BUT I was really a speculative builder.  It was fun to do it ‘my way’. Following my mentor, Luke Tucker I could never be just the ‘General Contractor’, I enjoyed driving nails and working along with the carpenters. I loved building more than food. I would work all day without a break. The guys who worked for me learned to say, “Mr. Darnell, we are going to lunch now.”  (or taking a break)  They knew me and I understood them. “GO”.

In all my years I only let two workers go.  One was accident prone, the other was never going to be a carpenter.  That was the hardest part of being the boss.

My office was always in my truck or in my home. I preferred working out of our home, I never ‘needed’ the prestige of an uptown office.  When necessary, it was just more relaxing to talk building over a cup of coffee, at the kitchen table. 

Then there was always ‘Tax time’. Like everyone I did not like ‘tax time’. I read all the helpful hints, then filed.  I read that an office at home is a ‘red flag for audit’ so I never claimed one. I even paid more tax than required, to avoid an audit. I always did our taxes until the moment my big brother told me “Jack, you cannot do your taxes.”  Chagrinned, “YES I CAN!”

My brother Jr. was a business man, wealthy, but you would never know it. At one of our Family gatherings he said, “Jackie, do yourself a favor, just take your books to a CPA and ask him if he can pay his salary.”
                 (Junior and sis Shirl at the family get together, she really admired Jr.)

To satisfy my Brother, I did that. In a couple days Marvin Hand called me, “I’ve looked over your books Mr. Darnell,  can you use $5000?”
“Of Course!”
“Are you willing to pay $500 to get it?  Because you have messed up your filings so much it will take that to refile the last five years?”

In a month I had the $5000 and smiled to myself as I called my Brother to say, “You were right Jun!”
Sometimes it pays to take advice from a wise (experienced) person.

One trade show:
(The gentleman in the suit was Jim, Shirl's hubby. That day he represented our company)

Nite Shipslog

PS:  Marvin told me regarding home offices. “The IRS is filled with crazy folk Jack, but they are not stupid. If you are in business they know you must have an office. It is the Dr & Lawyer who claims half their house along with an office down town, that get in trouble.”
That will be it from my coffee cup!

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1934 Ford

1935 Deuce 

Friday, January 8, 2016

What's in that cup?

This morning I looked at my coffee cup, my mind was flooded with memories.  Funny how one thing can key so many thoughts. Awhile back I was grieving for my Dodge City cup. I was advised to keep it, so I did.

It now hangs to the left of the range along with Mt. Rushmore. But the cup that brought back the memories I found in our 'STUFF' last summer. Cups I had made for my customers.
These are the ones used now, we both use the 'Darnell's Construction Co' cups.
At one time we collected cups at every stop, until we had boxes of them. We still carry about 15 cups, we never have that many coffee drinkers.
Each of you could write a book about the incidences on your jobs. The same with construction. Just yesterday Sherry and I were talking about the first small house I built. I bought a small very cheap lot, not telling Sherry. Grandson Corey and I were over cleaning the lot that had a small shack on it, he found a small gold colored bell.  I told him this house was our secret, he could not tell anyone.  That night Sherry asked him where he got the bell, he said, "It's a secret, I cannot tell anyone." And he didn't tell her, no matter how much she cajoled him. Corey was an amazing little kid.
Of course Sherry learned of the little house and was very happy. I knew I would easily get my money back so I went to a friend and borrowed $20K on a hand shake.  I kept my hours on the house and an accurate cost of materials.  When the house was finished, to figure the asking price I paid myself $10 an hour, plus gas and expenses. I sold the house for $32,000, to a sweet widow lady. I had completely built the house by myself. I now had over $10k as a nest egg.

After the closing, the lady asked me what was wrong with the house. I was shocked at the question. She explained it was so cheap, there must be something wrong. I smiled real big and said lady, I made $10 an hour on this house, it is solid as a rock.

As a builder, I preferred speculative building. Build the house I liked and sell it. There was an agreement after I decided to make it a life's work. WE owed $20k on a house worth $50K. Sherry hated that debt and make extra payments from her job to try to pay it off.  She asked one day on our walks, "Can you build us a house and get us out of debt? I jumped on that and said, "SURE!"
  Sherry agreed with one stipulation, "Honey don't ever go in debt more than we can pay."   "No problem," says I.
I am smiling now at how naive I was. Unless you are rich, NO ONE can build a house without some debt!  But I did not tell her of my 'education' until later and we were on solid footing.

Nite Shipslog
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1925 Ford Torpedo











1929 Studebaker

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Live Long enough And You Will......


Make a few mistakes.
If you are a man, you just might go bald.


You will probably need cataract surgery.
Live long enough and you will find one person no matter how hard you try, you cannot get along with them.


Live long enough, and you will usually gain weight.
Live long enough and you will lose someone that you thought you would have forever.

Of course then one will die, the very person you needed to answer one more question.  Every day that goes by in the winter of my life, I think of someone I truly loved, that has ‘left the building (of life)’. When you live long enough more of your family and friends are on the other side of that dark line we call death.

There are several friends here in Bloggersville that are older than I.  One sweet lady told me the other day, “Jack, 82 sucks!”  When you get 82 you can speak your mind. LOL
I was telling my Sherry the other day, when I get old I will say what I want to.  Then she says, “Honey, you ARE OLD!” (I DID NOT ask her that!) :-o
This blog is not a downer, I know life ends for individuals, BUT it does not end for the ones left. So we face the facts of living LONG, and try to make it GOOD!  I think there is a challenge there, no one should throw in the towel when a loved ones leaves.  We have all seen that, and it isn’t pretty.

There may be that one in a million that would like for everyone left to be miserable, but most want the living to go on living.









I have said a few things about living long enough,
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                                                     v
                                                     v
BUT you will never live long enough to have all of life‘s questions answered.

Nite Shipslog

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Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Words

After hearing a word the other day I thought it was nice to hear something that reminds me of my youth. The simple word 'Clockwise'. That word will soon run it's course if it hasn't already.


I am not a word master, I wish I were, but at best my vocabulary is close to 8th grade (my 8th grade, 1953). Growing up I never noticed words came and went, but they did.  That's 'COOL'.

An old man (probably 65 lol) asked me the other day, "How y'all doing?"  I answered fine and asked how he was, he answered, "Fair to Middling."  Then he asked if I knew what that meant.  Of course I do, I wasn't sure he did though.

I only know it because I took a crip course in HS, 3hrs at the local textile school in Belmont. Fair to middling is a cotton grade. Telling how long the cotton staple (fiber). you pull the cotton apart and if the average is 1/2", it is fair, then 1/2 to 1" of fiber is 'fair to middling' (is above average) and 1" is middling, very good. Well that is the way I remember it. That was in 1954-55 methinks, so I could be wrong in the lengths.  That grade determined the price the farmer was paid for a crop.

Remember the phrase: 'A monkey's uncle'.
                                        Jumping Jehoshaphat!

I noticed on the web some college was listing words banned from its campus.  I thought about a friend who said on a forum lately that he would be happy to never hear certain words ever again, one was Kardashian.  I think I agree.

I guess the oldest I remember is, "I'll be a son of a gun." (I have no idea what that meant), but I do remember a book by Lewis Grizzard : "My daddy Was a Pistol, I'm a Son of A Gun".


"I've got it 'Made in the Shade'. Don't Touch that Dial! ( guess the word dial is gone for good)."
Then there is 'Carbon Copy' remember that?  What about 'you sound like a 'Broken record'?'
Sister Shirl hanging Bobby,Me and Guy Abee out to dry!

Have you ever been "Hung out to dry?" Bonney  over at  "Organic Discourse" still hangs her clothes out, but the term "Hung out to Dry" referred being left in a position (in an office) to fend for yourself on a position others had taken with you, but backed out when the rubber met the road. You were in it alone or 'hung out to dry'. YOu had to 'FAce the Music'.

Do you remember any term or word you  no longer hear?

Nite Shipslog

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Now those cars were COOL, Dude!



“The last American Brickmaker”

A movie, “The last American Brickmaker”

I cannot tell you how long it has been since I watched a movie before this week. Our friend Evelyn loaned Sherry a movie. It was “The Last American Brickmaker”, starring Sidney Poitier.


It is a simple movie. Straight forward a great tale.  Just a good story of a passing skill that is being replaced by automation.

I must warn you there were several places I did feel a tear run down my cheek.  I could remember back to my old friend Vondale’s dad.  I learned building under him. He was from the old school, one of the best men I have ever known. He was honest, hardworking and delivered a solid house for a reasonable price. I am not sure if Luke ever used or saw a written contract, his agreements were sealed by a handshake.

It is also the story of a man against the machine, to make 22,000 brick in a short time.


I learned to love the smell of wood. Appreciate its strength and character.  All thru this movie, although it was about brick, I could see Luke Tucker in the character and related it to wood.

I didn't know if the movie was old or new. But it was filmed close to Don and Evelyn’s home. I just checked it was 2001.






Oh, but it felt good to watch a movie without it flipping around constantly and everything happening at the speed of light.  I had to stand 2 feet from the TV screen, but I really did enjoy a good story.

Nite Shipslog

PS: We are on the road as you  read this probably. 

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Above is the beautiful 1958 Chevy.

This is a Studebaker truck from the 40's. Mr Cobb drove a Green International stake bed truck, about this year in the movie. 

Sunday, January 3, 2016

The Media of the World directs our thoughts and fears



We all know it, and still fall right into the planned pattern. Years ago the ‘mantra’ of all media was “If it Bleeds, It Leads”.  The meaning obvious, the leading news story must be the ‘worst’ of the worst tragedies.
Most of us want ‘Good News’ but it does not bring ratings.  Good News does not sell papers. The more papers sold, the higher the ratings the media can charge more for the advertisements we endure.




For over a hundred years we citizens have been conditioned, now we are hooked on ‘bad news.  I laugh (at times out loud) at the reporter who must step out into the high winds to make a weather report telling others to ‘avoid’ just what he is doing.  I think of the old adage of us boys who, when learning to ride a bike, would turn loose the handle bars and yell, “Look no hands!” Later the joke turns the corner, “Look no front teeth.”

(And the reporter saying this is so bad no one should be out in it)


At the scene of multiple deaths the reporter takes on the ‘face of an actor’ to add to the tragic feeling (all the time hoping this report wins him an award, how lucky to be this close and the first to make a report).

I smile with ‘disgust’ while waiting in line at a super market at the number of ‘Gossip Tabloids’ and ‘Scandal Sheets’ displayed with obvious misleading headlines and lies.  Making profit off lies and others’ misery.

I remember many years ago at the Watts tragedy. I was on a ship in the Mediterranean. The headlines and stories we received gave the appearance the entire USA was on fire and in revolt. We had the feeling the skipper should turn the ship and head back to the USA and assist in restoring order.

I see no turn in the process, but we as individuals must revert to our own abilities and common sense to try to live a life without constant fear. Everyone should be vigilant, but I refuse to live my life in fear at every turn.
My hearing loss was sort of a blessing, for about 15 years we have watched probably a total of 3 hours of TV a YEAR!

Since the advent of the net, and it’s being available, we now get a lot of bad news on this monitor. (OUCH) BUT we do have the option to find some heartwarming stories, I like ‘em.
Nite Shipslog
PS: One of my favorite things about this (internet) media, I get to read GOOD personal stuff from friends I have met here. I like you guys much better than the News Anchors.

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Getting the most out of your vehicle as possible is important!


Are you a Holy Roller?


This month I will be 77 years old. Like those cool dudes before me I will be singing ‘Seventy Seven Sunset Strip’, because that was a popular line of a song as I grew up.

I have been asked many questions in my life, I thought I might answer one of them, while I am waiting for that great inspiration for the next blog entry or book.

To many, my life seems different than most, but it was my life and I cannot actually compare to yours or others. Some folks ask about different Jobs (occupations) and I have had a few, but so have many of you.  Some of the ways I went about changing,  was unorthodox but overall not much different than a guy in a city who lives in the same house and changes jobs every year or so.

We have some wonderful grand-kids (like all grandparents), but ours are witty, cool, good looking and some beautiful. There is one set of twins, Stephen & Joshua. Steve related to me once that at school one of his classmates asked,”What’s it like to be a twin?”
Steve, “What is it like NOT to be a twin?”
Anyway I have been asked, “What is like to be a PK (preacher’s kid) or a Holy Roller?” I still wish I had had Stephen’s wit!
Are you a Holy Roller? (I always hated that question, I had a new Daughter in law ask me that once.)


(My dad & Mom, The Rev & Mrs B.F. Darnell
There are other PK’s in the blogosphere. One or two read here. Life in the parsonage effects everyone differently, but all PK’s know their actions ‘reflect on Dad’s Ministry’.  I was one, referred to as “THAT PREACHER’S BOY”.  To be honest I would have preferred my dad be a Presbyterian, Methodist or Baptist Pastor.  But we were Church of God, Pentecostal, down south that was said ‘Pennycostal’.  In the 1940-1950’s (My youth) we were considered a little wild or crazy, even cultish by the main stream Protestants.

Like every Pentecostal I and my family were called, Holy Rollers, Tongue talkers and the nicest name, Holiness folk. So as a kid I would have preferred to be Methodist , I would have liked to fit in.


In an environment of like minds, it was okay. Dad usually pastored a larger church so I had plenty of like-minded boys to run around with. My youth was normal actually. Swim, fish , skate, bike, shoot marbles and fly kites.  Dad was busy much of the time with church duties. Back then a pastor was seldom in an office. They were expected to visit the ‘flock’, pray for the sick, care for the elderly and be out inviting folks to church. Most churches the pastor and family were expected to clean the church and cut the grass. Then in the rest of his time, dad prayed and worked on upcoming sermons.

Mama was the perfect pastor’s wife and mama. She had time for everyone, and could do everything. She had time to play with Shirl and I. There were a lot of revivals back then, which meant church every night for two to three weeks, secretly I hated that. I had attend every night.








The only sibling at home was my sister Shirl. She was okay, for a girl. She was the one that taught me to play Monoply, checkers, ride a bike, and jump rope (I wasn’t good at that). She could do about anything.
Nite Shipslog

PS: I learned to cheat at Monopoly on my own!
 But to answer the question. Nope, I never was a Holy Roller, but I was raised in a church where the title came from. Those folk were some of the best people in the world (and being honest like all churches some scoundrels) ;-)  
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Above 1927 Ford  Below  1931 Chevy





Friday, January 1, 2016

The TEN most beautiful drives in America


I saw those headlines and I had to see how many we had driven.  We were on over half of them. 
(I am posting this early because we are on the road Saturday!)

The drives I remember were US1 in the Keys, another US1 Mass to Maine.  The road to the sky in Glacier Nat’l Park. WE have driven parts of Route 66. Natchez Trace  was listed. Then there was CA1 along the West Coast.  That one made me smile.


It is absolutely a beautiful drive.  I do not pay attention to folks of society or the wealthy, so I do not remember ever hearing the name Hearst until Patti Hearst was kidnapped by the Symbionese Liberation Army and (in my opinion) was brainwashed,  and became sympathetic to their cause. She was photographed robbing banks with the SLA.



Once captured she was put on trial and given a long sentence. Most of us in the mid 70’s thought Randolph Hearst’s money would get her off, but it did not. Her sentence was commuted by Jimmy Carter and she was pardoned by Pres. Bill Clinton.
I sympathized with Patty, having known a little about ‘brain washing’ personally. I was happy that the two presidents had intervened.

Okay you ask, what has this to do with beautiful drives? Well folks, Once in Southern California Sherry and I along with our traveling partners Sonny & Colette were on CA1 headed North. Big signs stated, Road closed by mud slide NO OUTLET!

 (WE were in our Chevy Caprice towing a pop-up camper.)
I was encouraged North on a dead end drive because the Hearst Castle is located on the drive.  It is a tourist attraction and the girls (Sherry & Colette) wanted to see it (Later they saw the price. So we skipped it.) My girl and expert map reader said, “I see a road across the mountains if the slide doesn’t stop us.”
The drive was absolutely beautiful. We saw a couple girls steal one of the warning signs. They had a rough time getting it into their car, it was big.

“There is the road,” Sherry yelled, “Take a right. This is it.”

Was it ever? Practically straight up, no guard rails and it got so narrow it was one lane. Colette was known for her short prayers, “JESUS, JESUS, Jesus”, She must have called that name fifty times looking straight down 200-400’, remember no guard rails.

We made it over the mountain found ourselves in the back side of an Army Post. Right in the Tank Training area. WE drove thru with tanks stopping to watch this sight, I could hear the SGTs “Stupid Tourists!”

Leaving the post the Sentry wanted to know how we got aboard.  He shook his head in disbelief.  (Well, I wanted to tell him the US Army needed our map reader, but didn’t !)



That was our experience on California's beautiful Highway #1.


Nite Shipslog
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1934 SS Voison