Posted on 11/16/2012 6:59:39 PM PST by 2ndDivisionVet
My dad passed awy in the early 90’s, in Fontana. I took my wife and son for a drive through there and did not recognize it anymore.
Just today, I was telling my friends in Sugar Land, TX how I was trown from my horse in the annual Labor Day parade back in 1974, where I landed flat on my back in the middle of 6th street. I thought I met my maker, but just had the wing knocked out of me for about 1/2 minute. I did get pretty bruised up. Used to play in the Santa Ana river bed, too.
I grew up in Anaheim, when it was strawberry patches. A few years ago, I had to go to a conference at the Disneyland Hotel. I got lost.
Absolutely can relate. We were Texas Dust bowl people, “Grapes of Wrath” stuff. My Grandmother worked in a Sunkist Lemon packing house 1 block from our house in Upland.Lemon Groves across the street from our school. My Mom got hit by one in the face by some kid throwing one when she was driving down the street while driving with her window down. We’d sneak of and have Lemon/Orange fights as kids until the farmers would run us off. In La Mirada, I’d watch the Disneylad fire works from my back yard. My older brother worked at Knotts Berry Farm
Everyone worked at Knotts!! And I remember getting my butt beat for touching the lemons and oranges because they weren’t ours... but the fight beforehand was fun!
Anyway, most of the Groves are gone. One of my 1st jobs ever (which is one I forgot from my earlier post) was laying a water pipeline in the middle of some no place town called “Irvine”. nothing but Avocados and rattlesnakes then. we would sit under the shade of flat bed trailers to eat our brown bag lunches we brought to get out of the heat. I thought I was in heaven, because I made 100.00 dollars a week in the summer before I went into my Senior year of High School. I did get a good tan that year!
My uncle Tommy lived in Buena Park on Beach Blvd in a trailer he bought about 40+ yrs ago. Drove a truck for a living. He was a WWII vet, a Burma Road survivor. I think he was 92? not sure, he died just this last Feb. he was the families oldest member at that point.
My uncle Tommy lived in Buena Park on Beach Blvd in a trailer he bought about 40+ yrs ago. Drove a truck for a living. He was a WWII vet, a Burma Road survivor. I think he was 92? not sure, he died just this last Feb. he was the families oldest member at that point.
You are an idiot. You still did not address the issue of what numbers to use. Obviously your love affair with communism has addled yur brain
I guess at the end of the day, we had it hard,sure enough, but we never expected our employers to be the “be all-end all” of our existence.
We will survive, and if the people who think that our employers should “sacrifice” more, if they actually joined the “struggle” they profess to be in, and would actually participate in it, they could find out how to make a difference.rather that “theorize” about it.
It was called ‘Blood, Sweat and Tears” the last time I looked.
Get off the couch, quit worrying about “Papa John’s”, etc and go to work and make a difference.
Well they haven't been the same since David Clayton Thomas left.
“Wow, nice serf-like mindset you have. The workers should be thankful to their liege lord Papa John. “
Really? An entry level job? One that mostly employs High School kids so they can make extra money to go to the prom, etc., is being bashed as if it is Lord/Slave issue? have you been on the Planet long or is this your first visit?
Do you come from a long line of abused pizza delivery drivers?
It is called a “gateway” job for a reason. Lots of people go through this on their way to adulthood. (Some of us actually can learn a few lessons from them along the way).
LOL!!!
Absolutely right!!!
(and, yes, I am that old,too)
A chicken in every pot
Or the Libertarian platform of "Pot in Every Chicken."
Not so loud, Oliver Stone might hear you!
Most folks still don’t know how to get the damn thing quiet.
Knock’em down!
LOL!
I hated gathering eggs as a kid becuase the Rooster was mean. As psycopathic as this may sound, I didn’t mind killing the chickens when I had to. Why?
Because the Rooster was so mean when I gathered the eggs!
Gathering the eggs for breakfast scared me more than killing the chickens for supper.
Thanks for sharing. :^)
I could just imagine having to face those darn birds every morning!
I’ve got one more story realated to something like this:
When I was a kid, we had 2 hogs we raised. My older brother was a wiseacre and named them “Mildred” and “Irving”
(Word to the wize, don’t name your food)
My sister raised them for her 4-H club,
When we slaugherted them later, we would be around the breakfast table, and my brother would say, “I wonder who we’re eating today, Mildred or Irving” and my sister would cry and run off from the table. My dad and I would bust out laughing and my Mom would jump all over my brother.
It was hilarious.
Sub-par as in not enough to actually live on without having to take another job.
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