It's 1975 or so one night when I'm trying to get some sleep when a knock at my door brings my standard "What now?" At this late hour approximately 1 am if memory serves--it was late THAT much I know -- any knock will not be good news. Wasn't a hammering blow so I knew it wasn't a recall--they usually occur around 5 or 6 am. Emergency leave request and I'm the nearest preparer of the paperwork? Who died this time?? Instead I'm baffled at the person standing in my doorway ...
Well, as previously promised, I wanted to share a few pictures from the notorious path that my dog and I indulge in on a daily basis. The only thing that would stop an hour well spent in this wonderful place is when it rains cats and dogs. Pepper will not even think of venturing out in conditions such as that. On rainy days, it does not rain steady all day long, as a rule, so I find a window of opportunity by which to slip away to The Path. So, without further adieu, here is our ...
Well its kind of short notice, but I received an email stating that the Discovery Channel is going to be showing an episode that was filmed right here where I work. It was filmed this winter when I was on other rigs in the general area, but this is where I am now. Look for anyone wearing red coveralls, and I'm probably working with them right now. Anyways, it will give you a much better idea of what its like up here, if you are curious. Oil Sweat & Rigs - transmission date ...
I'm currently living in a state of political celibacy, and loving each and every minute of my newly-acquired indifference. Due to the unbelievable fact that I'm not a scientist, not a physicist, not even (dare I admit it) a philosopher, (not one studied in the like of any of these and similar professions of intellectual certitude), who am I to question the laws of reason and gravity? If skyscrapers vanish into dust and forgetfulness, if alleged misfits suddenly become ace pilots ...
I doubt if anyone who has seen THE FRENCH CONNECTION could ever forget its chase scene. That incredibly frantic, bordering on the impossible, thrill ride that had Gene Hackman pursue his nemesis through a swirl of traffic and against a glare of streets/buildings beneath the El, was breathtaking. I'm also at once proud and ashamed to admit that this (a dirt-encrusted overcrowding of crumbling structures) is Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, where I had lived the first third of my life. This is also where my ...
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