Chuck was a country-western band drummer by trade, alcoholic by choice, and an occasional rodman on the crew by necessity. When he would get on a bender he would usually lose all his music jobs and wreck his van. The van was necessary to get his drums to and from his night work. When that didn't work his whole world would come tumbling down. I'm sure there was a story as to how he came across surveying, but I never heard it.
So we would see Chuck when he was down on his luck. He'd show up and the boss would put him on my crew. Chuck was good help but you had to endure his sad-sack "woe is me" world...and probably buy him lunch for a day or two until payday. And the AM radio in the truck would always magically find its way onto a country station when he was around. Chuck would tell stories about the singer on the radio and how he "knew them back when"...not that I disbelieved him. I had just heard all his stories before.
It would have had to have been the winter of '77 when we had snow on the ground for four months. We were lucky to work maybe two or three days a week and by early March we were all broke and starting to lose weight, Nobody had any money so on the days we did work we all tried to bring something for lunch to share with everyone. They were some good times. You'd be surprised how happy a fifty cent loaf of Wonder Bread and a ninety-nine cent package of cheap bologna could make a survey crew. So I was really happy to find out one Monday that I would probably have enough work for almost the whole week. The engineer we worked for had procured a project to design an outfall line and a couple of sewage lagoons for a little one stop light town not too far away. While the topo would wait until the snow melted we had some level work running a three mile long bench loop from town down to the lagoon site and back. We were happy to have the work and Chuck even seemed chipper.
As we ran our levels out of town we passed into the open pastures of wheat country. No trees, just fence posts and an occasional wind pump and hay shed, typical Okie landscape. And it was cold. There was 2' of snow everywhere. Each BM had to be chopped out of the snow and sometimes hiking from the snow rutted road out to the nail in the power pole twenty five feet away lead you through a 6' drift. But we were all happy to have work with frozen snot stuck to our wind burned smiles.
Chuck was a coffee drinker and always brought the biggest Thermos I had ever seen in my life. His coffee habit also meant that the first thing he did every time he exited the truck was pee. Every time. And this wasn't a problem because we had been running the country road and the truck was always handy for Chuck to stand behind and exercise his "privacy". But as we neared the site of the proposed lagoons we needed to run the levels into the pasture and set us a permanent BM in the corner posts at the center of section. We were going to have to do without the truck for the last half mile and hoof it.
And sure enough, we weren't 200 yards from the truck and Chuck had to pee. That's all we heard for the next 15 minutes was his howling. And unlike most of us that could gain relief by just excusing ourselves and turning our backs to everybody, Chuck had to have 'cover' to pee...or at least have something close by. And there was nothing but snow out in this pasture. He was miserable the whole trip in.
We reached the pull posts for the field fence at the center of section. Someone spiked a post with a 60d and we had our BM. Warmed from our hike as the bright sun rose in the morning sky we dropped our hats and took a break before turning back. As we all stood around the level and jawed Chuck slipped off 30 yards away to the corner posts to relieve himself.
Our brief break was interrupted by a blood curdling howl from Chuck. We all turned to see Chuck trying to pick himself up from the snow..and he was having a hard time. When we got to him he was white as a ghost and trembling. I thought he had a heart attack. As we picked him up and tried to get him back up on two feet I could see his front side was all wet. His coveralls were still open and he pointed a shaking finger at the fence post and managed to squeak out the words "hot wire...".
I've never had the experience of peeing on an electric fence wire, but I have inadvertently touched them with my leg or hands. I can only image what Chuck felt. Our sympathy for him was fleeting and quickly turned to good natured ribbing. Chuck didn't think it was funny and was pretty sure he had "fried a kidney". He couldn't stand up straight for the rest of the day.
And from that day forward the little penciled list of personnel at the top of the page in the field book bore the name "Sparky" instead of Chuck. Sometime later the boss was scouring the notes and asked, "Who's Sparky?"
"Chuck" I replied. He asked why..
I told him to ask Chuck. 😉
I still remember the satisfied smile on my Dad's face when he let the "chain" (steel tape for those not familiar) touch a hot electric fence with me as rear "chain boy" at about 12 years old. I was devastated that my Dad, of all people, would do such a thing. The following summer we had green help (a good friend of mine) and he was similarly devastated and I was the one left with the satisfied smile on my face. All in good fun as long as you weren't on the receiving end.
,,
Thinking about Chuck reminded me of a story that happened the same winter and the same project.
The sanitary sewer outfall line we were working on followed a creek for almost two miles. The wooded area surrounding the creek was mostly fenced off from the agricultural interests either side and the section line roads were non-existent. Over the time we were working in there we would pack everything in and out and at times we might be a mile or more from the truck.
We would see the local ranchers from time to time from a quarter mile away feeding the cattle. We hadn't really spoken to any of them and I guess we just assumed they knew why were in the woods. And of course we were all still broke. And it was still cold and snowy so lunch was usually spent sitting around a quick fire roasting cheap hot dogs and heating up our pork and beans still in the can. Brotherhood at its finest.
One day at lunch we were startled by two county sheriff's deputies that snuck up on us through the woods. They were investigating a report of "hobos" camping in the woods. We all got a good laugh thinking we were so haggard looking one of the ranchers must've thought we were drifters. I remember offering the deputies some lunch and they graciously declined the invite.
Paden,
This place just wouldn't be the same without your stories. Keep'em coming.
I'll second that motion.
For some reason your story reminded me of the first time I ever saw a nipple ring. I really didn't want to see it. But, it was hot and the over-the-hill hippie running the D8 wasn't wearing a shirt. He hopped off the dozer and came over to the survey crew to ask some question. The ring was so shiny that if he turned just right in the bright sunlight you might catch a sharp reflection in your eye.
Holy Cow, post: 400909, member: 50 wrote: I'll second that motion.
For some reason your story reminded me of the first time I ever saw a nipple ring.
I will not claim to like or understand nipple rings, but, what I don't understand so much more (and like so much less) is those "things" some put in their ear lobes (which enlarge and disfigure the lobe to excruciating levels).
And how about nose rings/ studs? I would not want those when I get hit by a cold....... I simply can not imagine trying to blow my nose with those in the way.
Hearing tongue rings hit teeth creeps me out a bit as well.
I guess I'm just showing my old age. Have I said Get Off My Lawn lately?
paden cash, post: 400816, member: 20 wrote: They were investigating a report of "hobos" camping in the woods
Jumping horny toads Boy, if you are actually as ugly as your avatar yer lucky ya weren't shot to death. 😉
I'll bet he was better looking in '77. And I sure hope you were, too.
FL/GA PLS., post: 400913, member: 379 wrote: Jumping horny toads Boy, if you are actually as ugly as your avatar yer lucky ya weren't shot to death. 😉
I usually don't post real pictures of myself, but I'll make an exception in this case.
Here's one from a few months ago...
Just for fun.............go to Google Images...............enter "shirtless Paden Cash"...............see what you get
Then.................change your entry to "Paden Cash shirtless".....................see what you get
Now, that's funny.
Holy Cow, post: 400927, member: 50 wrote: Just for fun.............go to Google Images...............enter "shirtless Paden Cash"...............see what you get
Then.................change your entry to "Paden Cash shirtless".....................see what you getNow, that's funny.
??? I get the same images with both searches...just a bunch of buffed up gauchos standing around like a Calvin Klein commercial.
Here's the first image for shirtless Paden Cash.
Here's the first image for Paden Cash shirtless
I'm more confused than ever now.
Maybe your Google Images is different from my Google Images, but that is exactly what I get with those two entries.
When I simply enter Paden Cash I get the first pic to be what was the second pic under Paden Cash shirtless, the guy in the camo T-shirt who looks about to cry. The ninth pic is the same photo of the guy immediately above. The seventh pic is your current avatar photo.
Given that Google tailors its offerings based on a psychometric evaluation of your browsing habits, your results speak volumes - about us all.
Holy Cow, post: 400935, member: 50 wrote: Here's the first image for shirtless Paden Cash.
Here's the first image for Paden Cash shirtless
I'm more confused than ever now.
Maybe your Google Images is different from my Google Images, but that is exactly what I get with those two entries.
I'm with you on the first one, but the Paden Cash shirtless search on my end has a similar pic for the first and the Flip Wilson dude is the fifth image.
go figger....
[USER=9900]@Warren Smith[/USER]
FYI, here's the first image when I enter Warren Smith into my search. I had no idea you were a Rockabilly Legend and a buddy of Elvis Presley.
BTW, I do not normally spend any time on Elvis Presley or Rockabilly stuff on the internet............... or anywhere else for that matter.
Holy Cow, post: 400939, member: 50 wrote: [USER=9900]@Warren Smith[/USER]
FYI, here's the first image when I enter Warren Smith into my search. I had no idea you were a Rockabilly Legend and a buddy of Elvis Presley.
BTW, I do not normally spend any time on Elvis Presley or Rockabilly stuff on the internet............... or anywhere else for that matter.
Actually, I'm closer to being a Dead head, but there is a lot of pickin and grinnin going on there.
paden cash, post: 400922, member: 20 wrote: I usually don't post real pictures of myself, but I'll make an exception in this case.
Here's one from a few months ago...
Don't you wish that mug shots came out that good?
If you're out there on a lonely FM road with no traffic for the next hour, and half a mile from anyone around, why can't you p!@# on the side of the road?
I worked with one guy who wouldn't p!@# in the morning, the reason he gave was he 'didn't want to open the gates' . That somehow doesn't sound good for the normal functions.
This Google Images searching is entertaining. Here's our old buddy Hub Northing (image #53, though) at work staking out a suburban fence.
Don't waste your time on searching for a photo of FrancisH. First, it will truncate the search such that the first 20 or more images are of a fellow that hangs out in the Vatican. If you insist on FrancisH instead, you will get a few results. The most entertaining is a toddler and some words about Francish Europe in 900.
