Doyle Carver's Fish and Hicky Bar Blog

Halloween Hummus and How to Make It

2013-11-15T14:46:00.002-06:00

     I was on a mission. I needed to bring an or-derve and didnt want to bring something plain like a cheese and cracker plate or obligatory cookies.

     I didn't want to be THAT guy.

My mind was racing. I love invention and trying new things so this is a never been tried before work in progress. I've been making homemade hummus for some time so i figured this was my chance to make my mark on the culinary world. I will make Halloween Hummus instead of everyday plain old hummus. Plus I was tired of paying an exorbitant $6 per tub of the stuff.

I mean its glorified bean dip, right?

     First, get a can of garbanzo beans or chick peas. Any brand will do it seems. I generally buy the cheapest I can find. Open can, drain, then rinse the rest of the goo off the beans with cold water. I then warm the beans up in a bowl for about 1 1/2 min. in the microwave.   They should be hot to the touch. They blend better warmed up.

While the beans are cooling a bit I gather the rest of the ingredients. I gather lemon juice, garlic juice, onion, salt, pepper, tahina (ground sesame seed) pickled jalopenos, olive oil and water.

--and a red bell pepper, medium green olive stuffed with pimiento, and a small pepper (for the nose). And of course, it could only be eaten with purple corn chips.

The only thing I actually had to search for was the tahina. It is liquified ground seseme seed. I went to the IndoPak store down the street. It definitely gives the mix a nutty authentic flavor. However, on searching the internet I found lots of variations on the recipe. So my taking liberties with traditional hummus is perfectly within bounds and appropriate.

Just wanted to head off the perfectionist out there.

I dumped the beans in the my food processor and mixed on low for a few seconds. I added one tablespoon of olive oil and watched the mix begin to smooth out. I went to add my garlic juice and discovered it was bad. I smell everything before I add it due to a foodie disaster in my past. Thankfully I had some garlic powder and so I dusted the mix with it and kept the food processor going. If you love garlic add more. If you hate it leave it out. I'm the easiest going chef there is so if you expect hard and fast rules, well, sorry. Not gonna happen.

My main rule is, speed tempered only by taste. I don't have time for that slow cooking point of view.

I add one teaspoon of tahina. If you want it more nutty flavored add another teaspoon. You will have to stir well to get it mixed up into liquid form. I bent my spoon on this jar!

I then added one tablespoon of finely chopped onion. Let it mix some more. I sprinkled black pepper and salt and mixed. I also added a teaspoon of lemon juice. Mix.
About now I begin tasting. The mix is still relatively stiff and not smooth and creamy.

     You would think, add more olive oil, but DON'T.    It will turn out greasy. This is when you add plain water. I sometimes add 4 tablespoons. It depends how creamy you want the mixture to be. I like it smooth to the point that it will find its level in the bowl but not runny.   It's a judgement call.    If you get it too wet don't worry, as it will dry out when uncovered.

     I also add a pinch of cayenne and maybe even some oregano.    Like I said, put in it what you want.   It's all good.   You are the chef.    I also added a tablespoon of chopped pickled jalopeno for that Texas Hummus effect!

     NOW, I began to dribble green food coloring into the mix.   Little by little till you get the color you want.   I put more and more in cause the color wasn't green enough.   Finally, I just dumped all I had in there.    It looked about Halloween green to me.

I added another tablespoon of water to get the proper smoothness, test tasted one more time.

Wah Lah! It was perfect hummus.
I ran to the local grocery looking for a suitable container and ran back home to finish up.

But not totally Halloween Hummus yet. I got a single olive and cut it in half. Placed just so for the eyes. Then I cut my red bell pepper into strips and made the grin and the eyebrows. Finally I put on a single hot pepper from pepper sauce as the nose.

HALLOWEEN HUMMUS.

Isn't it beautiful?

And totally scary with a little bite from the peppers. Scoop it up with any cracker or chip. Purple was perfect for Halloween.
However, in all your joy of creation and screaming IT LIVES at the top of your lungs in the kitchen try and be more careful than me when drizzling the olive oil at the last. My bottle gushed instead of drizzled and I nearly had a disaster or Frankenstein proportions.

Bone Apa Teeth!

To see nothing like this whatsoever, visit.......DC Mach Inc.

Of Being Guest Bartender....

2013-10-16T23:43:00.000-05:00

     Had a very unusual opportunity the other night.    My long time friend Dawn, owner of Jones Road Icehouse asked if I would like to be a guest bartender.   This request was confirmed by her partner Will.
.........................................................
     Now, you are thinking.....he must have been a bartender before.....NO, I have never been a bartender.    However, I have made a lot of noise about taking care of her place and maybe stepping in whenever they need a night off. I took an online course to get my TABC license.     The course itself is eye opening.   I never knew a bartender had to count every drink by every patron and guesstimate when they have had enough based on the patron's weight.
   As a lot of your know, business can be unrelenting and it's great to be able to take a day off occasionally. I agreed to do it and we set a date.   Plus I wanted to experience it.   I have a great interest in other unrelated businesses and how they work.
     I waited with nerves on edge.   I surprised myself at the way it all felt.    The day came and I rushed to get there at the promised hour.    Lots of old timers at the bar and with good cheer they welcomed me as a brand new bartender.
     Will showed me where each beer was.    Several big coolers and a couple of refrigerators, cups, ashtrays, paper towels, how the register worked, how to take a debit card.....finally, the location of Red Bull.
     A customer held his Bud Light up in the air, I ran over, grabbed one out of the cooler, popped the top, and served it.
     I was a a bartender!
     Only problem was I served a Coors Lite instead of a Bud Light.   I offered to pay for it and Will wouldn't let me.   I was embarrassed and determined to not make that mistake twice. Though they didn't say anything I was also determined to not drink on duty.
     I slowly began to absorb the awareness of the bar.   A patron at the end of the bar is staring at me.   I hold up a beer and he shakes his head yes.    Another customer, wiggles his bottle, I show up with one and he takes it.    A third takes his bottle out of its koozie and places the empty on the counter.   I exchange it.   I watch a guy drain the last bit from his bottle, I'm there with a new one.
     So many little signs, happening all at once.   Plus I was still hunting beer in the coolers.   I didn't realize they had so many kinds.
     Then I got a lesson on how to serve beer properly.   I was to rub the neck down with lime, then apply salt liberally, and stuff the lime into the bottle just so.   I learned and quickly.   I certainly didn't want to be a liability for the owners.
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     Backing up a bit.    Why is this work remarkable?   And why is it remarkable for me?
     I own an internet retail company that sells unusual closeouts, large plastic fish, aluminum can crushers, pails and buckets of all sizes, horseshoes for crafting, western decor, gothic fleur de lys decor, and lots of ashtrays. DC Mach Inc. We also manufacture various items in the USA and right in our shop.    Plus I find many other things in shows that I travel to far and wide. My company is small but we still do a mil a year in gross sales. We are importers, artists/sculptors, and inventors, and me and my staff consider ourselves second cousins to Einstein with genetic ties to Neanderthals.   Meaning that we believe in flashes of genius followed up with brute muscle.   Our motto is "No Boundaries."
   I can back up further. I owned an automotive mechanic shop for 25 years and was an ASE certified technician specializing in mobile air conditioning. During that time I was also a steel sculptor for hire and made and sold artworks for several years.   I still have a couple things I simply couldn't part with. I donated one work in my brother's memory to the Omega House in Houston and it may still be on there. My work was also recorded by Home and Garden Television several years ago.   A show called That's Clever.
    Plus, I was a musician and songwriter, playing locally in small clubs downtown. I was kind of found at an open mic at Anderson Fair. I was fortunate enough to make two albums, be included on some compilation albums by Waterbug Records, have my songs recorded by several artists, and finally to be included in the Smithsonian Museum's Folkways Collection in the Americana category. I sang at the Townes Van Zandt memorial in Houston, TX and I helped produce two albums by Doug Clark and Elva Jones.
     Before this I worked in the oilfield as an equipment salesman, am a father of two fine children (now grown with their own families), and before that I sold musical instruments.   Mainly guitars.   I had come from musical theatre and was tired of starving.   I worked two years professionally (for money) and was in a great many shows in college and out.    I did two seasons with "Texas" in Palo Duro Canyon. (I recently revisited that artform by playing the male lead in Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, where I played Sheriff Ed Earl Dodd.) I was on the first soccer team ever for West Texas State, now West Texas AM.    Didn't even get a jersey for that effort. I was also a day manager at a Pizza Hut in Canyon, TX for awhile.   I was hell on dough and pasta.   In college I was a male model for the art classes, one of the first male dancers ever for the Kilgore Rangerettes, taught guitar, worked at a movie as a projectionist, a practice dummy for girls table tennis team, sold handmade jewelry, and would write papers for anybody for $1 a page.
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     So, after all that, at this late date, why on earth do I want to be a bartender?

     When you work for yourself you tend to be careful who you let close to you.   Most people have an agenda.   They want something.   They want a favor, to borrow something, to bounce something off you, to see your technique, to check your insurance, your long distance plan, your vendors, what kind of car you own, what color bank card you carry and by the way just how much do you got in the bank...........?
     You find that you have a tendency to stiff arm everybody out of the way and say NO to everything, step back from every entreaty, and look through guarded eyes at every offer.    I cringe inwardly every time I hear the phrase,"Can you do me a favor?"
     Truthfully, I get harder and meaner about it if I'm not careful. One reason is a lot of people don't want advice or friendship but they do want to take my time and distract me from what I need to do.   Maybe they simply want what I have.   I have to remind myself not everyone is a thief and I would rather err on the side of charity.        But that is another story....
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     That's why my being a bartender is so therapeutic.    For once, in my day, I have to care about and look after everybody within my range down to the smallest detail, and let them within my comfort zone.   Actually, I have to throw my zone away and deal totally with theirs.   Their needs before mine.
     It's amazing to me, that when I am only interested in taking care of others comforts, my issues cease for a moment.   It's like they can't exist on the same plane of existence.   I let mine go and dwell on my customers.   I am at their beck and call.    I serve.

     Somehow it's healing and freeing.

     At the end of the night I wiped off the bar, loaded extra beer in the coolers, and walked out from behind the counter feeling like I honestly cared about the customer. It was somehow personal by then. I was surprised and a little embarrassed when they paid me for my shift.
I felt like I should have paid them.   They could call it "Dawn's Day Spa for Busy Executives"
     I think I may need another session soon--before she really does start charging for it.

Business: The Monster of Risk

2013-10-08T13:25:00.000-05:00

As the owner of DC Mach Inc. I tend to run into a lot of people who want their own business. They want the perceived goods. The money. To be the boss. To have the final say, the big stick. They want freedom.

But, I guess you've heard - freedom ain't free. To the new business owner I offer some advice concerning risk.
Business is a constant reminder that everything costs either money or labor and it's not the obvious things that will kill you. It's the unknown monster that eats up both.

   I'm assuming we all know what costs are involved in our businesses. Buy a widget wholesale then mark it up to retail. That cost is pretty easy to figure. Then you have rent, utilities, wages, taxes, advertising, etc. All relatively simple costs to tabulate. These are easily known.
   But wait, now you have to factor some sort of cost figure for risk. This is hard to do. You have to guess what could happen to trip you up. A fire? Storm? Market collapse? Loss of key employee or distributorship?   We all have varying levels of risk tolerance.   I have never been able to tolerate huge risks.   So I take lots of small ones.   I would rather fight small monsters with a rock and a stick than giant monsters with a cannon.
     It seems to me that my business has been a series of baby steps because of those unknown monstrosities. I admit, I don't know if this is the best way to go or not.    Those baby steps may be why I'm not the next Bill Gates.   I don't know if he took baby steps but I like to imagine he did. In my case it was a way to handle risk. I mean, why stick your head out during a hail storm when you can stick out a finger.   In a worse case, like a really big bowling ball size chunk of falling hail, which part of yourself would you rather lose?   At least I would be alive to try another day.   I mean, I would have 9 fingers left. I honestly expect wisdom to cost me something so winding up with only 9 fingers is acceptable.
But what about those circumstances you can't plan for?   The ones that stick their heads up like a tyrannosaurus rex over the trees tops.   He sees you.   You can fight, hide, or run.    All three decisions could be the right one.
      If you don't remember any more than this, please remember you will always be at risk and something will always be threatening you.   When you own your own business the T Rex shows up when you least expect it..     You simply can't begin to foresee all the monsters that will threaten you.
   I was once sued by a county law firm for not paying property taxes on the property NEXT door.    It wasn't my property and never had been.   However, they didn't care and only wanted payment.   They filed a lien on the property I was currently on.   My taxes were paid up.    I had to secure a lawyer as they really wouldn't talk to me and the court date was approaching.    We settled it through him and they disappeared leaving me feeling fully justified in thinking monsters really are out to get me!
     Another time we lost our water.    It simply went off.    We called the water company and got an answering machine.   Seven days later, innumerable phone calls, walking every inch of our property and the adjacent property, we found an old house that a man was repairing.    He found a valve up under his house and had simply turned it off.   Not knowing it was the main line to our building.    The water company didn't know this either.   Being devoid of water for a week meant bathroom usage was questionable.    We had to haul water in 5 gal buckets from the ditch out at the street to flush the commodes in the building.
     One morning I came onto the property and only one of my working dogs came to the gate. I keep dogs mainly to just bark a lot.    I believe they have been the primary reason I haven't been broken into over the years. The only insurance I've ever had that greeted me at the gate and I truly loved.
   I looked around and figured he must have dug out somewhere and hopefully somebody would call me to come get him. All my dogs are tagged.    One of my employees said he found him underneath a shipping container.    Somehow this german shepherd had gotten frightened during a night time rainstorm and decided to seek shelter under a 20' steel container.    He had dug under it until he was stuck midway. He couldn't back up or turn around. We got a couple shovels and started tunneling under the middle of the structure. We dug down about 2 feet and then under about 4 feet till I had to dig basically with my hands since I was afraid I would hurt the dog with the shovel blade.    We also jacked the container up with a car jack just enough to accomplish all this.   We finished about noon and my dog Jake scrabbled out covered in mud and shaking. Needless to say he was delighted to see us and promptly went to sleep under my desk in the office.
   My point with these stories is they have NOTHING to do with the normal course of business.    They are the monsters of risk that just inexplicably show up.    All teeth and roaring.    You can't ignore them as they may do away with you.   So how can you prepare for things like this?
     If you are expecting a hard and fast answer, well, I don't have it.   Insurance helps. A wealthy family to go crying to would work also.    But I mainly keep a cash back up.    I've found that when things go wrong, really wrong, and you need money, it's very hard to come by.    I stopped letting myself get to that point.   A banker who wouldn't loan me a dime taught me this.
     This may not be the best way to do things.   I mean, it really may be the hard way.    That's the way I learned this much of it.   Hopefully you reading this will prepare you a bit for the tough days ahead.
     Make no mistake.   The owners of that abandoned building you are looking at or that closeout you seek to buy was visited by the very monsters I'm speaking of.

Buckets, Buckets and more Buckets

2013-09-16T14:53:00.000-05:00

AND PAILS.

We got them at DC Mach Inc.

Sometime back when I was closeout shopping in Vegas, I ran across a great deal on some galvanized pails - or buckets if you insist.

(Difference Between A Bucket and A Pail)

I was a little nervous about buying them, but the price was way right and the guy gave me free shipping. You gotta love free shipping, right?

They arrived a couple weeks later and my warehouse guys looked at me like what little sense I was born with had evaporated.   My office girl raised an eyebrow and didn't say much.   Which is extra rare.

I had done a bit of research at the wholesale show and did more of that to try and find if I had any competition.     Didn't appear to be any.    I took photos, wrote the listing, factored in shipping costs and came up with a price.
They didn't exactly fly out the door but they started selling.   One here and one there.   One novel thing I offer is the sale of ONE pail anywhere in the world.   I know, you are thinking, Why?   Cause, some folks want ONE pail. Just one.   I stop questioning at that point.

I've since added more and more pails and buckets to our inventory.
I have red, purple, pink, fire, mop, and malt buckets now.    I even stock a selection of stainless feed buckets for livestock which is modeled above by my lovely assistant.
We have buckets and pails for every decor, as centerpieces,for weddings, garden parties, arrangements, plants....that could possibly exist.    However, sorry for you few, NO I don't have milk buckets.   Yet.
I suppose they could even be used for protection and occasionally when apprehension drapes its moldy blanket of fear over me I don my helmet.
Ready to conquer the world if need be.

Come see. DC Mach Inc.

Adventures of CJ and Doyle --Katy Goose Hunting

2013-08-18T12:04:00.000-05:00

      We were gung ho.   We were game.   We flinched from no obstacle.   We both developed a formidable unibrow.

     We just didn't know what we were doing.

     CJ asked me if I ever goose hunted.
     "Naw, not much"   which is hillbilly code for "No Ive never hunted for nor even laid eyes on a wild goose in my life."

     He said he had a place we could hunt out near Katy in the great goose flyway.   It wouldn't cost us a thing since the field is on the back of the place he buys pavers from.
     "OK, Im all over it!"
Off to Academy I went to buy goose loads for my shotgun, get a license, and pick up a goose call.
     "What kind you want?" the salesman asks.
     "I dunno.   That purty red one over there."
     Without smiling he says, "That's a bicycle horn, the goose calls are over here."
     I walked over staring at him as if he was an absolute dumbass for pointing me in the wrong direction like that and picked out a nice wooden call.    It was called a GOOSE A FAR- model TR so we affectionately called it the goose farter from then on.
     We loaded up way early before daylight the next weekend and took off into the cold pre dawn.    Driving through town was quite peaceful at 4 am though that may have been cause my eyes were so blurry from the whiskey we drank last night as we packed for today. Then of course, neither of us could sleep.
   We headed west on I-10 till we found a turn off into the pitch blackness.   No moon.    We drove around a bit and stopped at the end of a dirt road that was beginning to turn to mud.    We parked and hopped out and marveled out the total quiet of the freezing muddy field.   On one side was standing corn or bamboo or cabbage or some farm thing or other, and the other side was flat and kind of shiny when we passed our lights over it.
     "Might be a little wet."   CJ said, and probed the ground with his rubber boot. "You should've worn rubber boots."
     "Ive seen worse." I said, playing my light over the inkiness surrounding us and wishing I had worn something other than tennis shoes.
     We loaded up our shotguns, 6 or 7 boxes of shells each, game bags, flashlights large enough to land aircraft, the goose farter, little hunter folding chairs, camo makeup, double roll toilet paper, binoculars, a large thermos, and the biggest parka coats we owned.     CJ also brought along a large trashbag full to the top with little white trash bags.
     We looked like those human pack mules carrying supplies to the base camp of Mt Everest. It took about 20 minutes to get it all loaded.   We clambered down an incline to a fence we had to cross.    It was about 10 feet way. We then unloaded all that stuff in the mud and climbed through.    Another 20 minutes of huffing and puffing little white clouds in the cold air.
        At this point I had to have a cigarette.   I lit up, grabbed all my stuff again and began to walk/slog through the wet mud that was beginning to look like liquid cement. My tennys were kinda wet by that point and I couldn't feel my toes.    As CJ and I walked we noticed that we were getting deeper and deeper in the stuff nearly to the top of his brand new never been worn before rubber boots.   We slurped to a halt as we looked around for a little high ground.    There was a round bale of hay we were making for about 75 yards away.    It looked like a safe dry zone.   My hands were beginning to cramp and the cig was very close to burning my hunters beard.
   CJ motioned that way.   We were huffing and puffing even more by this time and so couldn't really talk anymore.    I couldn't feel my feet below the ankles.   I couldn't even see a trace of shoe anymore as I was wearing giant blocks of mud on both my feet.
     "I tole you to wear rubber boots." CJ said between rapid breaths.
     "You aint gonna start that bullshit are ya?"   I hissed with all the breath I had left.
     I stepped in front of him trying to get to a dry looking patch only to discover the only real quick sand in the field.    I sank to my thigh in the freezing murky stuff.   My other leg with the muddy foot had inexplicably found a perch and so was at the same level as my crotch.   CJ snorted, and help extricate me from the mud hole.   It closed back up like I had never stepped in it.    That was when I realized it had eaten my tennis shoe.    Still had my sock on so that was something.
     We wheezed our way to the hay bale and set our loads down to catch our breath.   I pushed my way between two large round bales and started setting up camp.    I dug a small hole in the hay and deposited all my small stuff.    CJ grabbed the bag of white trash bags and headed out to the ajoining field.    We had borrowed a book from my buddy Jay that explained that geese loved white trash bags.   Not sure why as I didn't read much further than that.    It showed a photo of white bags all over the ground so we started throwing them everywhere just like that.    We practically covered about 2 acres with them.     It was just turning graylight when the first goose flew right about our head.   CJ and I froze, looked at each other, and ran, slipped, slopped, and slogged back to our hay bale blind.    My sock was hanging off my foot and kind of slapped the mud when I ran.    We grabbed our shotguns and loaded them and laid them on top of the hay bale.    I grabbed the camo glop and started putting war paint on.
     "Do I need any of that crap?" CJ eyed me.   "oh hell yeah, come ere."    I smear a bit on his cheeks and drew an "I" on his forehead and just left it at that.   It still makes me smile.    I can be funny like that sometimes.   After all he was always telling me he was Italian.
     We could just see a little bit.   I opened my thermos and poured us a cup of coffee.   That's when the second goose flew over about 10' above our heads.
     "We're spose to be huntin out here you know."   CJ said looking at all points of the compass.
     "Well, you point one out and I'll shoot at it.    We got any snacks?" I began rummaging around in my coat pockets.    I found a couple old french fries from last season, a pack of ketchup, and a pack of hot sauce. Though I tried my best the fries weren't really edible. So I gave them and the hot sauce to CJ. I sucked the ketchup pack flat.   Breakfast out of the way, I noticed it was beginning to warm up and considered taking the parka off.
     That's when we heard it.
     A great sound of wind, of clouds moving, mixed with a giant chorus of out of tune bicycle horns.    In the distance a huge raft of black and white dots was moving across the early morning sky. It looked like it was a mile wide expanse of solid geese moving slowly to another field.
     We were frozen in hunters' disbelief. We knew there were a lot of geese out here but had no idea that every goose on earth would be present.
     "Should I try the goose farter?" I asked scrabbling in my pockets for it.
     "Why not!" CJ said, "How else are we going to move them over here?"
      I shrugged, put the call up to my lips and let loose a mighty full chested woooshh.    I took another breath and gave another wooooooshhh. I was feeling a little light headed.
     "Funny sounding goose call, bro. I thought it would sound more, you know, like a goose.    Maybe it's like a dog whistle and only geese can really hear it."    By this time the great horde of geese looking like a lake in the sky was actually veering in our direction.   They must have been 500 yards out and were beginning to blot out the light.
     "Hey Bro you might try blowing through it the other way and see how it works." CJ nervously fiddled with his shotgun.
     "Why, they're comin' ain't they?"   I said with a sweep of my arm toward them. Amazingly they immediately veered right en masse to avoid us.
     "I think they saw you man!"   CJ ducked behind the hay bale.   As did I.
I whispered,
     "You think they can see that good?   We are a long way out here.   I think I will try blowing the call the way you said.   I mean, hell, they are flyin out of the county."
     I took a huge breath, reversed the goose farter, and let all my being out in that one breath of air.
BLAAAAAATTTT.      Echoed across the muddy field.     As one entity in the sky, they turned and started coming our way again.     I made another BLAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT with as much emphasis as I could muster.    They kept coming.
     "It's working just like Jays book said it would!" CJ remarked joyfully.   He poked his head up over the top of the hay bale.     As one teeming mass they seemed to stop in mid air.
     "Dang it CJ I'm telling you them dang geese can see a flea on a tick on a dogs butt from 1000 yards.    Stay still, I got more camo grease on than you."   I poked my camo face up slightly and blasted on the call again.     They began to move our way again.    By now their noise was growing and slightly intimidating.
     "Alright now, stay down until I tell you."    BLAAAAATTTT.    They advanced slowly.   BLAAAAA -A- A- A- A -ATTT.    Hey I was gettin' good at this! They kept coming and seemed like they were right on top of us as loud as they were.    CJ was staring at me with wide crazy eyes.    The geese were so loud it seemed like they going to land on us. I swear the ground was vibrating.
     Then CJ jumped up and started shooting.     I was stunned for moment then I jumped up and started banging away too.     The birds milled around in the air and seemed to fly straight up and over us. We reloaded and kept firing. Just sky blasting by this time.    We were literally firing straight up in the air.     The birds were right there and they kept on flying.    We reloaded again, and continued firing at them as they went over and out of range.
     "What the hell?" CJ gasped, "Are these shells defective?" he kicked a box of shells on the ground in disgust.
     I was quiet for a moment.
     "CJ you started shootin before the birds were even here!    I think they were out of range the entire time!"
     We were both sweatin' and shakin' by this time.   Buck fever I guess.   Or maybe goose fever.
     We watched the birds circle just out of our range several times.    With disgust, I gave up blowing on the dang goose farter and gave the thing to CJ.    He sounded pretty good but couldn't convince them to come visit our lovely white trash bag spread again.
     No more singles came by either.   It began to get warm so we shucked our parkas and sweated some more.   Typical Texas goose hunting.
     Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I see a low flying bird coming our way.    I motion for CJ to get down.    We crouch and then there it was.   We hop up and blaze away at this duck that somehow managed to evade the bulk of our shot but still went down. I believe CJ hit it as we saw a bit of feather fly off as it went down behind a flood dam.   I was closer so I went for it.   CJ still embarrassed about running off all the geese didn't say much but watched me climb over the hill.    It was an irrigation ditch and about 100 yards down it I saw a duck.    I snuck up on it using my best quiet even though I was dragging a muddy sock on one cold numb foot.    It saw me and I fired as it flew off down the canal.
     Dang! I had to stop and slap at mosquitoes.
   I walked, crawled and dragged a wet sock for another 300 yards.   There it was again, boom!   It flew off and landed way out there looking like a little dot as it landed. Bout a 1000 yards this time.   Slap a few more mosquitoes.
     Sheesh, I had freezing feet, and I was sweating from the exertion all at the same time.   Still, I am a hunter, and I don't give up.   Slap, slap, slap, slap.
     It took about 45 minutes to get close this time.    I slogged my way closer and closer for another shot.    By this time I figure I'm about a mile from CJ and the hay bales.    I see the duck again. Slap. He was way out there. I test the wind direction.    I guesstimate how much I should elevate my shot. Slap. I consider running closer while shooting.   Finally, I lay on my stomach and crawl. Slap, slap, slap. The duck can't see me, I know I will win this day.
     Totally encrusted with mud at this point from my chin to my toes I approach the lip of the irrigation canal slowly but surely. I am focused! As cold as the mud is the sun is still burning my back!      I raise my steely eyes over the edge of the canal and I suddenly see the duck 10 feet from me. Slap! He sees me too.    He jumps straight up and flies toward me and passes right over my head by inches.     I sit up and watch him depart. I couldn't even get a shot at him. He does not look back or even look tired for that matter.     I see a dragon fly and shoot at it.   It flies away unharmed too. I wave at a few mosquitoes.   Really, I just sit for a moment and let them feast.   I mean, somebody ought to come out ahead here.
     About an hour later, exhausted, beaten, sweating, and ate up with mosquitoes I approach the last hill of the irrigation ditch near where CJ is hidden by the bale of hay.    As I limped, dragged myself these last few feet I stumbled over a duck laying in the trail.    It had to be the one that CJ had shot.    In my rush earlier I hadn't seen it.
     I was mad.   At the world, at CJ, at myself.    I scooped up the duck and carried it over the hill to my waiting hunting buddy.
"Hey you found my duck!"   CJ exclaimed.
"Naw, yours got away, I shot this one way down the irrigation canal."    I lied.
     But he didn't buy it.   He knew I was messing with him and waited the rest of the morning for me to admit it.

     I never did and he never brought it up again.    I thought about it several times but I was so embarrassed by my pitiful action that I just kept quiet.    He and I hunted almost every weekend during the season and got smarter and luckier.   Funny how those two go together.    We managed to take several geese and by my figures we must have invested several hundred dollars per bird by the end.    Still, we were never really great goose hunters.    We did better deer hunting later on and had some tough fishing trips too, which I may detail in the future.   To top it all off I was a terrible goose cook even though I tried repeatedly.   I was beginning to wonder if that book we borrowed from Jay was full of lies!
     Anyway, buddy, I've tried to make up for it by telling everybody this story.    Some of which is absolutely true.
     Next time I see you, beers on me.

dc -----DC Mach Inc.

3D Printing and The First World Problems That Come With It

2013-08-17T12:55:00.000-05:00

Who would ever have thought a 3D printer could even exist? Or even more so a 3D food printer. One of the prime concepts of the far future in science fiction was to walk into the dining area and speak into a microphone and have your food magically appear.     Now, its not so magical anymore.   We already know that voice recognition has increased in quality to the point that you can even say the wrong thing and it corrects you.    That's one of the reasons I have full faith in this next human cultural and industrial shift.
Nasa is hot on the heels of the 3D printing revolution. They are taking it further than making small plastic toys or paper airplanes.   Apparently you can shoot strings of liquified food into shape and it stays in that shape.    They are using only shelf stable foods that will last months and months for potential use by astronauts.
It may have taken an Einstein to come up with this technology but thankfully it doesn't require one to see the future.
As the price of 3D printers falls with public acceptance, new world problems will show up.
Scenario One.
"Mom, I lost a button on my favorite dress!" the little drama queen wails.
Harried Mom says, "Ok I will have to google the pattern and see if I can get one close to it."
Drama queen even louder and more pitiful, "But it has to match PERFECTLY, I would die to be seen with the wrong button!!"
Frantic Mom searching with one hand holding wine glass with the other.    Drama queen gets too close making Mom drop wine glass and shattering it.
Angry Mom jumps up making Drama queen run for her life from room. "Great now I got to print another wine glass!   That code is coming out of your allowance young lady!"

Scenario Two.
"Dad, my car has a flat!" says first year college son.
"Do you got a jack?" asks Dad in an airport across country.
"No" says inexperienced son.
"Do you have a tire tool?" asks frowning Dad.
"No" says clueless son.
"Can you call a tow truck?" asks irritated Dad.
"NO, I have to leave now, I'm late for class. They will fail me if Im not there. This little town doesnt have taxis either. "    pause. "I do have access to a 3D printer though."
"Great, print out a tire plug and install it." says relieved Dad.
"I did that already, and read the instructions, but it needs this little T shaped tool and it doesnt say what its called" says plaintive son. "I can't find the code for it!"
"Figure it out! I'm in debt for all of my natural life putting you through school.   You have all of Google, Yahoo, Encyclopedia Britannica, and Tire Tools Are Us. Somebody somewhere knows what its called and then you can find code to print the damn thing out!   You probably could have walked to school in the time you have spent on this!"   says boiling Dad.
"What?" says incredulous son, "It's a half mile over there!"

Scenario Three

"What are you doing?" asks prying supervisor.
"Searching for code for nuts, washers, and cotter keys" says worried employee hammering away on a keyboard.
"For what? We have plenty in stock to meet our quota," says smug super.
"That's what we thought too, but we are OUT and the production line is going to come to a halt!" says employee trying to keep his job.
"Impossible!" shouts bossman suddenly worried about keeping his job too. "Call somebody"
"No one has any stock whatsoever" says grim faced worker. "I'm pulling the code up for the three pieces and we can print them in shop."
Suddenly relieved supervisor "Great, so we had the correct material for them?"
"Nope, all we have is paper mix right now.   Don't even have plastic.    Been out of powdered metal for a month," says chagrined worker, "But I can print something close to spec and we can change them before they leave the plant.   Thereby keeping production going with paper nuts, washers, and cotter pins.   We just got to remember to change the parts out without anybody finding out we did it."
The supervisor smiles and puts an appreciate hand on the workers shoulder.
"I'm depending on you son."
The tired worker smiles hoping that someday technology will allow him to print a new supervisor.

     Seriously, any and all of the past scenarios could be a reality.   Issues we have now of missing parts, whole assemblies, and even food might one future day be a dim memory of where we've come from.
     I do love the idea of stepping up to machine and speaking into it what I want and it magically producing the item.    It would search the universe for code automatically and have available all the ingredients for whatever your heart desires right on the spot.   I will admit to there being new world problems but, really, they won't be so bad.
Hot Plain Tomato Soup.

Why I Skip Your Booth at a Trade Show

2013-08-15T05:26:00.000-05:00

     I spent the last five days at a trade show in Las Vegas. The ASD is quite large with 2800+ vendors and literally miles of walking involved.    While walking the exhibitor floor and looking at the various items vendors had for sale it occurred to me that some of these well-meaning companies actually have a tendency to run their customers off instead of invite them in to their booths.
As a buyer and owner of a small business I spend a lot of money, time, and physical effort traveling to wholesale shows to find product.   I HAVE to purchase product to keep my company going. Plus I look for new product.    I'm very serious about the process and resent when vendors make my job harder than it should be. I treat the whole thing as a necessary part of survival.

   Browsing is my main preference for discovering new product.    I can swiftly cover lots of ground and view a lot of items in seconds.   If I see something interesting I stop and inquire. Otherwise, I'm traveling quickly to take in as much territory as possible.   Being nearly sixty years old my browse speed is diminishing and maybe so is my patience.    I definitely don't have the stamina to walk these giant shows like I did when I was younger.   That makes it even more important to make the most of my time and energy.   Its quite limited nowadays.    Stopping this shopping process causes me and the vendor money.

     For instance, as I walked up to a product on a table the salesman got between me and the item insisting on helping me.   I didn't need sales help at the moment and just wanted a closer look . I moved to the side to get to the product and he jumped in front of me again. Exasperated, I told him I only wanted to look. He then started to qualify me.
What are you looking to buy?
How many stores do you have?
Do you sell on the Internet?
What's your monthly sales?
Where are you from?
Hey those Cowboys are looking weak this season eh?
Pretty hot isn't it?

     All of this when I don't need any words from him at all,   At this point I'm just trying to get away from him. I don't care what he's selling. He has effectively diverted me from looking, asking questions, buying.   Really that's all there is to it for me.   If you have a booth please don't stop that flow.

     Sometimes when you look down an aisle the salespeople are standing out in the walkway practically forming a gauntlet. This eliminates browsing as you will have to acknowledge every one of them in some manner even if its only walking around them. I generally speed up and act as uninterested as possible.

     Another sure fire fail is to try and make eye contact with me and give me your sad puppy face. You are distracting me from looking. I feel like you are about to ask me for pocket change. I generally dodge beggars of every stripe. I will definitely speed by your booth.

     I will probably take some flack for this next one but another thing that doesn't help is having teenage girls showing entirely too much cleavage in micro skirts. I realize they are probably in their twenties but they look like little girls to me. Just what kind of customers are you looking for?   And further, just what are you selling here? I pre-qualify myself away from your booth.

      Please don't make political statements or cultural remarks either verbally or with your clothing.   Wearing shirts with religious symbols, black power, rainbows, political stances, insults......are not conducive to a business relationship. I don't need to worry about disagreeing with you.   Please don't make me.

     Some booths are very busy making it hard to ask questions. I understand that. I know the world doesn't stop for me. Just make sure that price, case pack, weight, and pallet carton count is available on the label and I will determine if I will wait or come back later. Don't put that info in code as it is only irritating and slows down my search.   Unless the item is really great a crowded booth with coded labels will make me leave.

     Aggressive salesmen are a turn off too. Don't tell me what I'm going to buy. Don't insist and certainly don't be condescending.

   Since you have paid to exhibit at a show try to be flexible in your minimum purchases and ship dates.   Nothing is worse than a company telling me how much I need to buy or where I can sell it.   Suggesting these levels is understandable, demanding them is not.   I actually had a company raise its wholesale prices when I told them I was going to sell on Amazon's Third Party Seller platform.   Really?   Just how much of a lock on the market do these guys think they have?

     Now there a great many booths run correctly that make buyers feel welcome with knowledgable sales people, with chairs to sit in to rest and talk. Some sort of literature is always welcome but don't force it on me.   I appreciate free water, coffee, and even a snack, though none of that will make me buy from you. I don't really want key rings, coffee cups, letter openers, Koozies, or pens. I do want a business card and a way to staple it to any catalogs you might have. If I have placed an order with you I do expect a copy of the order. Don't expect payment at that very moment though.   It's amazing how many orders are lost at the big shows so I prefer to pay when you call and tell me the order is ready.   Please take all forms of payment. Make the buying process as simple as possible.   Try to never say NO.   I hate it when a company won't take my primary American Express Plum Card. This actually makes my accounting process harder.

     Always know each units weight and dimensions, UPC code, wholesale price, suggested retail price, units per case, total weight, cases per pallet and its weight.   Have a current inventory count on hand. Be prepared to offer a usable jpg if I ask for it. Know the colors and sizes available immediately.
Let me know if you are selling your products direct to any of the big boys such as Walmart, Amazon, Home Depot, etc. It doesn't make some buyers any difference but it does me.

     Above all, don't lie to me about the products scarcity, value, marketability, condition, availability date, ship speed and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember.   If we are to be continuing partners I must trust you. If I catch you in a lie I won't forget and most likely wont buy from you again.

   Making my visit smooth and stress free will certainly help in my appreciation and openness to your product and company and may actually increase the time I'm in your booth instead of running by it.

     To see some of my finds visit DC Mach Inc.

Fundraising with An Aluminum Can Crusher - How To

2013-07-31T12:18:00.001-05:00

Fundraising With An Aluminum Can Crusher

I know that most of us have very little time to do all the things we have to do in a days time. Thats why I wrote the most important and basic steps first and the the details later.
In a nutshell, this is how this fundraising idea works.
Ready? Here you go.....

1. Get a Can Crusher and mount it in an easily accessible area with lots of traffic.

2. Install a poster next to it explaining that all proceeds from the sale of recycled aluminum cans goes to "X" charity.

3. Pickup a bag full of crushed cans once a week or more often as needed.  Take to a recycling center and sell. The more can crushers you have in place the more more your organization can make.

What's hard about that?

     This fundraising method results in nearly immediate cash flow for your group on a weekly, monthly or even daily basis.   It all depends on the traffic in the area you have your can crusher located.

Economics

     Depending on the trash bag you use. We use the 30 gallon size.   A full bag of crushed cans comes to about $10.00 to $14.00 here due to cans being about 70 cents a lb. This will vary depending on the price of aluminum in your area. Call any recycling or scrap metal company and inquire about selling aluminum cans. The thing that is so good about this fundraising method is that your group doesn't have to beg for funds.   Begging on street corners seems to be pretty popular now a days and not just for homeless people. I've seen school and church groups waving signs and holding out coffee cans trying to beg money at traffic lights.   Is this how you want your group to fund itself?

Who Can Use this Method of Fundraising?

     This method of fundraising is relatively passive.   Meaning that you don't have to stand there to make money.   This can crusher system makes money day in and day out in the name of your charity.   It is a great way for scouts, choirs, bands, clubs of every stripe, teams, etc, to fund their endeavors.
     Everybody knows of some high traffic area where people drink sodas.   It is a relatively small thing to get permission to put a can crusher up.   It looks great for the company allowing it as it shows community involvement and conservation awareness.   The company gets a lot of goodwill with no real effort on their part.   Some groups get companies and individuals to purchase the can crushers and act as sponsors.   That way the charity doesn't have to put any money out at all for equipment.   The companies and individuals can attach posters or stickers to the can crushers so proving their support of your particular group. Plus it should be a total write off for the companies.
     You can see that the more can crushing systems you have in place the more they generate income. Just do the math depending on how much your group needs in a month.

Why Recycle?

     1. Recycling is good!   Say that over and over to those who don't do it. Responsible people recycle and irresponsible people don't.   It's as simple as that.
     2. Recycling is needed!   Take a trip out to a landfill sometime.   The sight and smell is a shocker.   Any way that we can reduce that giant pile of refuse is necessary and needed.    Waste is sad in just about all forms.   We can reduce our energy demand, water use, and land space by very simple and established recycling efforts.
     3. Every effort Counts!    Starting children young recycling is just part of teaching them right from wrong.    The small things add up.   We can all make some impact.
Do your children , yourself, and the world a favor.
RECYCLE

Beyond this Point Live Monsters

2013-04-22T22:19:00.003-05:00

Hey guys,
There is the edge to the known world over yonder.    I see it.   Its been there for some time but I stay away from it generally because its dangerous.    I dont know exactly what danger is there but I KNOW its dangerous.    I can feel it...............................trembling

However, as the days go by and I realize Im passing the same trails Ive passed over and over.   The same people say hi and wave, the same traffic builds up at such and such corner, the same tree stares me down at the edge of the stoplight.......

I begin to cast more and more glances toward the edge of the known world.    Can I survive out there?    Can I just go visit for a bit and then come back in a hurry looking over my shoulder?
I just want to go see.
The reason is that I have a time clock bugging the piss out of me.   I mean, it wont stop.   Well, it will stop, but I dont know when.    I dont want to regret when Im close to that point.    Im just saying, that my time should be well spent.    And it has been....... till just lately.
The far off horizon is looking closer and closer with all its trials, struggles and dangers.    The edge of the world is there.    It waits for me.    It grows impatient.
I love you all but I got to go and see.    Dont hold it against me.    I may fail and never return.   I may succeed and never return too.
The sign there says, stop, beyond this point live monsters.....
Well, I will just see about that...
dc

Making Acorn Bread and Not How the Indians Did It

2012-10-23T08:57:00.003-05:00

My daughter asked if I would like to take a foraging class with her here in Houston.    We had spoke of it before and thought it would be a cool father/daughter thing.   Her only touch on foraging had been hunting dew berries across the road from my mechanic shop when she was younger.    She's over 30 now and to this day we talk about when the berries will be ready every spring.    We may or may not pick any, but we are aware they are there for the picking.
      My foraging background is basically what Dad taught us boys about the surrounding woods in NE Texas.    We could identify and eat most berries and wild fruit but really not much beyond Poke Salad and what we called Sour Weeds for anything else.    I come from a family of hunters and farmers as most people did in my neck of the woods so you had to know a bit just to get along.   As for wild plantlife, you learned quickly what Poison Ivy and Bull Nettle was.   Nothing is much worse than running through Bull Nettle in short legged pants.   Do it once and you won't forget.   Ever.
     She even paid my way, (I love having grown kids!) and we showed up and listened to Doc Merriweather.    A rapid fire speaker with way more knowledge than he could impart in the few hours he spoke to us.    Like most things it was just a taste of the free food nature has for us and he opened our eyes to this manna from heaven virtually at our very feet wherever we walked. This guy showed us 30 sources of food within 50 steps of the building!
     I was on fire to find something growing in the wild and eat it!

I looked and looked and studied the finds on the internet and remembered the words of our teacher. "This shaped leaf means its good for you, while this shaped leaf means its poison and will likely make you very sick or even kill you."
For some reason I couldn't rid myself of that KILL remark about ingesting the wrong stuff. I was and still am pretty reserved about eating something I don't know what is exactly. That's why running up on this overburdened oak tree was such perfect timing. I KNOW what an oak is at least.

I was walking my pups with my bride Sandi when I brushed through some oak branches and all these acorns fell on me. I whipped my baseball cap off and started loading them up right off the limbs overhead. The nuts literally fell right out into my hat. It took just a few minutes to fill my cap up to where I couldn't carry anymore. I wasn't picky either and realize now I should be more so. Any acorns with little holes in them, just throw away right there cause they have worms in them. I know Doc Merriwether says they are edible but unless Im starving I will pass. Plus don't keep the little ones. Only keep the biggest fattest ones you can find. They are the easiest to shell and have the most acorn nut meat for your labor.

When I got the pups back in the house I went online looking for acorn recipes. It seems that the Indians would gather and dry and pound the seeds, wash or leach them in a creek, then cook them on flat rocks over a fire. I decided to update that a bit.
I found several recipes and kind of made my own up on the fly. I went back into the kitchen and dried the acorns in the oven for about an hour at 150 degrees in a flat cookie pan. I think I was a bit too hot and will do the next batch at 125. Some of the kernels were pretty hard and dried out. I let them cool off and then got a pair of pliers and began cracking the shells and extracting the nut meat. It took awhile as I watched tv that night. In fact I didn't finish all of it. I took it back up the next evening and finished shelling the acorns. By this time my nuts had gotten pretty hard. I wrapped them in a towel and pounded them with a hammer to soften them up again. I made crumblies out of them. My experiment made about a cup and a half to 2 cups of nuts when shelled.

     I got a 2 qt pot out and filled it half way with water and got it to boiling.    When the water was at a rolling boil I dumped the nuts in and turned off the heat.     I let that sit for about 30 minutes.   Note the water was nasty looking brownish.    I didn't think to taste it.   I understand the water is good for washing clothes though they may begin to be acorn colored.   0.o     I will pass on that for now.
    Then I took the pan over, drained and rinsed and tasted a nut.    I could still taste the bitter tannic acid in the acorn.   I drained the nuts through a paper coffee filter.
     I filled the pan back up with fresh water and got it to boiling again.   Threw in the rinsed nuts and turned the heat off.     At the end of 30 minutes I drained, rinsed and tasted again.   NO TANNIC ACID.   The acorn was actually pretty good to eat at that point by themselves.   They were just getting soft.
     I laid the nuts out on a cutting board and tried to mash them.   Nothing really worked very well.   Finally I got a food chopper out and chopped the nuts to a corn meal consistency.
I threw them into a mixing bowl.    Then I covered them with plain white flour and mixed around until each crumbly was covered.   I then blended in one egg.

It was pretty gritty looking.    I then mixed in about 1/3 cup of maple syrup.    Finally just a touch of water to smooth it out.   Might use milk in the future though.
Hey, even the Indians would've added a sweetner if they had it.    At this point I realize now I could have added raisins, sugar, berries, etc.    I prefer it sweet.   Or at least sweeter than this batch was.
     I oiled up a cast iron skillet and then pushed the mixture into it.   I flattened it out with my hands. Looked like kind of a wet cement, mud pie sort of thing.

I prewarmed the oven to 350 at Merriwether's suggestion and cooked my acorn bread for 30 minutes or until a toothpick came out dry.
I pulled it out of the oven and wondered how to get it out of the pan. Sandi said turn it over like cornbread and just plop it out. That's exactly what I did and wallah! It was a perfectly beautiful little flat bread.

I pulled a tiny bit of it off and popped it in my mouth. Nutty with a hint of oak.
Im not kidding either. I promptly got some butter out and smeared it on top and chomped away. Not bad at all. I will increase the sweetness for the next batch. It is a bit dry. Will have to figure a way to add moisture. Perfect with wine. But isn't everything?

Thank You Dr. Merriwether for convincing me that I could do this. That I could reconnect with my ancient human family. Gosh they weren't just neanderthals after all. Thanks again for the push I needed to see manna from heaven all around me.
We are surrounded by God's gifts and have only to open our eyes to find them.

Cast Iron Horseshoes and why Everyone Needs Some

2012-10-09T12:54:00.000-05:00

Umpf, HORSESHOE ....what is it good for!
Exchange WAR for Horseshoes, and you will probably recognize the song I was humming.
No that song doesn't have much to do with horseshoes but it does have a lot to do with helping explain what cast iron horseshoes are good for.

First, Cast iron horseshoes are oddly versatile.
I know, you are thinking "get a grip, I don't own a horse!"
Well slow down grasshoppuh, as I'm about to elucidate you.
We got these decorative cast iron horseshoes that are absolutely perfect for decorating your pad if you are into country, primitive, cowboy, rustic, or western decor. Just add them in an artful manner to end tables, bases of lamps, on the wall and especially above the door.
"Why above the door?" you ask. Well in ancient lore a horseshoe placed above the door pointing up is good luck! You point the ends of the shoe up to hold the good luck in.
Or, since a horseshoe carries in itself inexplicable good luck inherently they are perfect favors at weddings. Perfect in that they are small pony shoes at about 3 " tall, and they are inexpensive and memorable and practically unbreakable if the reception gets wild.
They are also great crafting items for kids. Again they are cheap, tough, and safe with adult supervision. I've seen children paint them, tie ribbons, feathers, and colorful string to them and glue beads, penny's, and lots of other whatnot. They can be a uniquely made piece of art for any kid.
As for art, there is even sculpture made of them.
There simply isn't any limit with a little imagination.
The one, the only, the crazy - versatile cast iron horseshoe.

dc

Deliverance Weekend

2012-02-04T23:22:00.002-06:00

Thursday, August 16, 2007 11:04:25 AM

saved from an email way back.....

WELL, this last weekend was weird. It ended with me and my wife with cuts and bruises and caterpillars crawling out from our hair and clothes, soaked in sweat. Sounds great huh?
This was a political trip for a hanging I built last year. My commissioner is relatively new to art, and actually new to being able to afford art, who invited us up for the weekend at his lake house. He wanted me to see the finished work hung up (which I refused to help with, Thank God!) and be introduced to his circle of friends. The carrot he dangled in front of us was lots of new potential art customers and a relaxing weekend at the lake.
We kenneled our little dog (with doggie day camp!), and drove the 3 1/2 hours to BFE. I should have known something was up when the cell phone stopped working. We arrived to see my buyer grilling chicken on an outdoor grill. After being congratulated for making the trip we sat at an outdoor table where the buyer made himself a plate and ate his lunch in front of us. Just him, with no offer to us whatsoever. It was a little uncomfortable since etiquette wasnt followed at all. This was the second hint of our fabulous weekend.
We were shown our quarters in a separate house. They were quaint with a nice view of the lake. No problem there.
My host immediately showed me the piece hanging from an A frame porch. I was struck with it and stared for some time. Its cool to like your own work because it doesnt happen every time. I did note that it was placed in kind of a shadow and that the stop-rust coating made it too dark. I sold the job based on a natural or rust condition that showed up well against a dark background. This piece virtually disappeared against the background. I didnt point it out but instead told him how great it all looked. His house is in some odd repair process so I didnt mention that either. He was replacing some old wood with new wood but only doing so in a sporadic manner here and there. I got my camera and took a bunch of photos hoping that one of the shots will be good enough for my site.
After that we all went to his boat dock to ooh and ahh over his collection. Only four in his family but they got 6 motorized boats plus a paddle boat. We climbed on his pontoon boat having already dressed in swimsuits and accompanied by loud country music from his all weather stereo began to move slowly in front of his lake home. I obliged this and took about a dozen more photos. He loved that I did that and pointed out all kinds of angles that might be better for showcasing his "compound". We finally struck out across the lake to find some friends. The temperature outside then was about 100 degrees.
Needless to say, we baked quite well and had our ears pounded by some poor hillbilly soul whose wife left him. We slowed down at a neighbors boat dock and they hopped on our pontoon. We were introduced all around as the artist and wife who built the "thing" on the porch. The conversation quickly petered out so we went back out on the lake. About half way across the bay our host yelled that it was too hot and that we should all hop in and cool off. Which we did. My wife however, hopped off and hit her hand on something sharp and sliced open her little finger. She was bleeding profusely in greenish brown lake water. I honestly didnt know what to do except get her out of the water. Surely fish poop laden water isnt good for an open wound.
She managed to climb back on board the boat with blood running down her arm and dripping off her elbow. No doubt it was a pretty good cut to bleed that bad. Our host though was annoyed that she hurt herself. He basically called her a dummy for getting hurt on his boat and then he followed her around with a spray hose to keep blood from getting on the floor. She took all this in good form admitting that she could be a klutz. But that wasnt enough for our host. He went on and on about it for the rest of the day. Not once did he ask if she maybe need a stitch or even a bandaid. His wife finally found some butterfly strips and put them on her hand. The other guests too jumped on this delightful bandwagon about how dumb my wife was to get hurt. It was getting old but we didnt know exactly what to do.
Bored with insulting my wife and the heat approaching 102 the host decided to go back to the neighbors house and we would float there for awhile.
All this time we were drinking beer and bottled water. My wife mentioned that one reason she landed oddly when she jumped out of the boat was that she didnt was to get her hair wet and then have to deal with that later. She does have a great mass of hair.
This started the abuse all over again from host and neighbors. The neighbor lady said something about her being a city girl and all foo foo. My wife finally had enough of lip and riled up on them. I cant repeat what she said but it was clear she was going to show her some foo foo if she wished. My wife works out several days a week, one day being kickboxing.
We finally left that gathering and went back to the hosts dock. There we found his parents who live next door floating in the water with life jackets on while still fully clothed. No one said anything about it so I didnt either. It just looked odd.
I took more photos of the artwork, none of which were going to look very good, and then helped apply more bandages to my wifes hand. It looked terrible and was still seeping.
We gathered about dinner time on the front porch and talked and drank more beer as the sun went down. My wife still taking barbs about getting hurt and bleeding on the hosts boat. It got darker and later until it was full night. It occurred to me that it should be getting time to eat dinner but no notice was given to that effect. I saw one of their children eating something and mentioned it to the host. He said sure, go in there and find something. He had a pot roast on the stove top. I went in and sure enough there it was nearly ice cold. Somebody said grab a plate so I did and went back to the table to eat. I went outside and told my wife to come eat. She looked suprised and asked the host if dinner was ready. He looked suprised back and said it was if she wanted to eat. I can only suppose that they are an unstructured family when it comes to mealtimes. It was never announced, no plates were set. We just fended for ourselves hunting forks and spoons down. There was also nothing else served or ready. Just potroast. Still, we were appreciative as it was way better than nothing.
After the loosely held dinner we gathered outside again and our host talked of going out on the lake again and to see the stars. We did, and that was the true highlight of the trip. I had forgotten what a field of stars looks like on a truly dark night. It made me feel less alone in the universe. We made the trip back without any problems and said good night.
As we were settling into our bed I turned on a ceiling fan that made a clacking sound like a train on a track. Then the central air return being right by the bed sounded like a load of gravel slowly being poured on sheet metal. It was a marvelous cacophony of sound that made me sleep like a baby. My wife did get up in the middle of the night to take some painkillers for her hand but I didnt know it.
Next morning, me and my wife were already talking of leaving early and going to get our little dog out of the kennel. She had had enough of being insulted for getting hurt and of not being exactly being fed and getting heat stroke on the boat. I agreed so we went over to the main house and visited with the entire family on the front porch. It was about 9:00 and already 95 degrees outside. Our hosts wife produced a foil wrapped set of sasauge bisquits and we gratefully ate them. Nothing else was offered for breakfast. Just coffee and water and if you wanted it, go get it.
Our host asked about our leaving time and after we told him announced that we must take the nature tour and that it only took 15 minutes to get there. Trying to be socialble and looking at our watches we apprehensively said sure, lets go. After all it would only take 15 minutes.
We went to the boat dock and instead of getting on the pontoon climbed into the flat bottom boat. Maybe I should have been concerned right then but I was lulled into the 15 minute remark and thinking further that my obligation would be over in just a few more hours and I could go home.
The flat bottomed boat was slightly uncomfortable as I have a bad back. I cant sit in the position required for very long without it becoming excruciating. Plus it was very hot and incredibly humid at this time. Oh well, only 15 minutes.
The baking, jarring, painful boat trip took at least 30 minutes across the lake. Our host cheerfully oblivious to our distress. Still making remarks about how dumb my wife was to get hurt and to please be careful today. We both smiled and ignored him as best we could.
We finally crossed under a small bridge and entered a quiet creek amid lush near tropical foliage. I kept expecting a hippo to rise up and tip our boat over. It was all quite beautiful but dreadfully hot as we lost even a vestige of breeze.
Our host talked of aligators and snakes and giant loggerhead turtles and went further and further upstream. He gave us paddles to help keep the boat straight and to keep briars and other bushes from pushing us out of the boat. The stream got smaller and smaller and sometimes was no more than 6 feet across. He constantly plowed the boat into briars on the bank that not only scratched us repeatedly but dumped all kinds of vermin on us and in the boat. My wife, hating spiders, began an extermination attempt with her paddle but she couldnt kill them all. All the time the host thought this was the funniest scene he had ever witnessed.
This type of fun continued for two more hours. We were drenched in sweat, leaves and sticks and other debris stuck to any vacant skin available, scratched from head to toe, bugs crawling all over us, boat full of spiders, and my wifes wound bleeding again from all her exertion.
All the while being laughed at by our host.
Did I mention my back was killing me by this time?
He finally tired of torturing us after my wife mentioned that this reminded her of the movie Deliverance. All she was waiting for was the little funny looking kid to start banging a way on a banjo somewhere. If it all wasnt so true it would have been funny.
The ride back felt like we were in a furnace with hairdryers blowing in our face. We survived to the lake house and basically made our getaway. I didnt bathe or anything. Hell with it, I can bathe at home!
We made our goodbyes and hurried out. Three or four hours later we picked up our little dog who was exhausted from Doggie Day Camp and promptly fell asleep in my arms. On the way home my wife looked at me and said God intended this weekend to go this way no matter how bad it seemed.
I looked at her and said that Hes still laughing over our decision to do it in the first place.
We argue over Gods actions frequently. I think He has to have a strong sense of humor.
So ends the tale of dealing with the nuveau riche. They only play at being frugal now since they dont have to anymore, and make small attempts at showing their status by buying art and artists. It reminds me of an old saying , you can take the boy out of the country but you can never take the dumb ass out of an ignoramus.

I may have added to that a bit.

Speaking of Perfect Children....

2012-02-04T09:15:00.001-06:00

OT Speaking of perfect children

Jul 13, 2009 05:19 PM

posted from a forum

My daughter, Cara, was mad at me. She kept trying to get together with me and my wife Sandi for lunch, dinner, coffee, just anything. But her hours are terrible as she is in free lance promotions. It seems we never know when she will be in town or where or what time. Mine and Sandi's work and social life is pretty extensive too as we are booked weeks in advance for parties, barbques, benefits, karaoke, etc. Plus she works out two nights a week. We just couldn't seem to find time for my daughter's request.

Finally, Cara insists that we meet because "I've got to talk to you two!" She couldn't say about what over the phone so me and Sandi were thinking all kinds of odd things. Maybe she was going to announce that she was pregnant, going to move overseas with her new husband, had an inoperable disease, etc,,,,,,,,,???!!!

We arrived at a restaurant that night tired and in our work clothes. Sandi was irritated and nervous and I was too. Why couldn't she just tell us? Doesn't she know we are freekin busy! We set across the table and Cara leaned forward and commenced to explain how rude she felt that we were not being accessible. She was near upset so I started apologizing and trying to explain that since she is family we figured she could wait till we got together for dinner sometime later. She said that would be fine but she had been trying to get us in one place for 6 weeks. She said we were the hardest people to be nice to. Sandi then explained that life has been tough as she is still recovering from her cancer surgery, her job is kicking her butt, etc. We managed to make an uncomfortable group apology and paused to order from the waitress.

Then Cara said, "On a lighter note...." and she explained that since my and Sandi's 20th wedding anniversary is coming up in October she wanted to tell us now that she had bought us a trip to London, Paris, and Rome. An 8 day whirlwind trip. She said she had been saving the money for 3 years and we only had to pick some dates and get our passports. She was trying to tell us before we made some other arrangements. Then, she went on to explain that she wanted to do this because we would not do it for ourselves.

Which is true.

To say that we were stunned is an understatement. Sandi burst into tears, as did Cara. I was struck by the love of family and children and sometimes undeserving parents. My daughter is 29. At this moment she is my perfect child and maybe she always will be. I know I couldn't have done something like this at her age. Sheesh, not sure I talked to my parents that much at that age. I wish I could claim responsibility for how she thinks, performs and IS... but truthfully I can't. She is her own person far outreaching any input I had in her formative years. Like all parents, Sandi and I are very proud of her.

This story is not to compare children at all but to appreciate what they bring to us.

Good Work

2012-02-04T08:57:00.000-06:00

Good Work

Aug 19, 2009

Got a chance to participate in a bbq benefit this last weekend. Its the third one I've done this year. I've been involved in the past but not nearly so much as now. Generally all benefits around here have silent and live auctions. I take care of the silent part by providing all kinds of small items for it. Most of the stuff I donate comes from last of a line, overstocks, stuff that doesnt sell well, and returns, though I do throw some cherry picked items in . I generally donate about 30 to 40 items. I can fill up the bed of a small truck pretty easy.

In all, with the barbeque and live auction we raised 15K in one day. The receiver of the benefit was a local electrician who came down with throat cancer. While in the large scheme of things 15k wont help for long, it still provides relief right now. When I first started doing this type of thing I was pretty judgemental about the folks getting the money. After a while I realized that it doesn't matter. Someone thought they would make a good candidate so I guess thats enough. I would rather err on the side of charity.

After an all day workout, the heat was over 100 here, we finished up at about 6pm and gave the family the money. Thats when all the tears started. I learned they had been hiding their car from the creditors. They only had one car too. What a great way to move old merchandise and give to those who suffer. The little money it would have brought me pales next to what I get out of it.

It was a good days work and good work is hard to find. --

Side Effects

2012-02-01T11:49:00.000-06:00

     One pleasant by product of aging, at least for me, has been the ability to buy more or less what I want, and when I want it.   Of course there is a preface to this.      After all these years of struggling to accumulate stuff that I desperately needed, Ive found that I'm just about full of all that and can now concentrate on things I want.   Sounds cool, huh?
     It has it's own weird little side effects though.
Flash back to a time when I had just enough money to buy an album.   Just one and I even had to budget for that.   I was then stuck listening to this album night and day until I knew every aural nuance in every cut and groove.   It became one of my favorites and 40 years later I can still sing along in near perfect unison with it.   Grand Funk Railroad, "Closer to Home".
     Flash forward a few more years, I had a little more disposable income and decided that it was time I stopped budgeting so hard to buy music. I was sick of doing without when I was surrounded by people who seemed to have everything they wanted. In my mind I DESERVED it. I bought a lot of albums at one time.   Like 15.    I felt absolutely wealthy and truly I was. I mean, when you get exactly what you want you should be happy. Eh?
   When I got the albums home I listened to them rapidfire, one at a time.    Now, I know that was a terrible mistake.    I couldn't absorb any of the music as there was simply too much of it.   I felt like I had to hurry to the next one and maybe there I would find that elusive perfect melody.    I wound up storing this music for years.   I only listened to a little of it and really dont remember hardly any of it now.   If I had bought one album and listened to it over and over I would have found the art and the beauty of the lyric and notes.   Jumping to the conclusion that there was something momentus going on that vinyl disk.    I missed it.   But before I beat myself up to much I will admit I'm a slow learner.
     Flash forward even more years.   Disposable income is about the same but I learned to save it better and make myself able to buy larger WANTS.    Sometime during all this I had just about taken care of all my NEEDS and they are greatly reduced.     I finally discovered that buying crap and sticking it on a shelf really isn't all that fun.   That each piece, whatnot, or album must have some connection to me other than my ability to just buy it.    I've begun to spend with great discretion.     I hunt for that item that will make my life or the lives of those closer to me better.    When I accomplish that the side effect is my personal happiness increasing.
     Sometimes material items become weighty and require their own upkeep, space, and effort to stay current.   I'm drifting away from all that wasted energy now.    It seems like energy is not such an endless commodity as it once was.    The side of effects of buying things can be so fun and enjoyable but they can also become their own PIA.    Im finding that the things I keep are in the latter, but the stuff I give away are the former.    Who would have thought of such cool and evident side effects from seperating my wants from my needs.

First Trike Ride Jan. 2012

2012-01-29T09:41:00.000-06:00

First trip, 150 miles, went well.   Went to Old Town Spring, did a bit of walking, found a turkey leg, did some fried Twinkies, Cheesecake and Reeses.   Got to hang with my daughter and SIL and carry my grandson around a bit and visited my friends store, "Lauras Touch" then took off looking for some campgrounds.     It was cool and breezy on the bike.   We got to wear our new leather chaps and seriously they work well.   We had enough clothes on to get overheated if we weren't moving but pretty comfy at cruising speed.    Bike handles well up to 80 on the freeway. Finally figured out how my cruise control works. Plus our helmet intercom works perfectly. I did threaten to turn Sandi off a couple times.
         Most of the campgrounds seem to be closed this time of year.   We visited three places. Cagle Campgrounds, the only one that seems to be open, and the only one actually located on Lake Conroe, was ok.   It had amenities like showers, toilets, water.    The area has had a terrible drought but the water still reached the dock, barely.   We've had a bit of rain in the last week so the open fire ban has been lifted.   We saw a several campfires.    The main thing I didn't care for was the closeness of the campsites to each other.   Another thing was that none of the sites were actually on the lake but set back quite a bit.
     We then visited Kelly Pond Camp but couldn't get down to it due to the horse traffic.   We will go back next visit and try to get there.    Stubblefield Campground was next but it was totally closed.   We think we will like that one the best as it is a bit more primitive and maybe a tad more private.

It was getting late so we headed west on 1375 till it ran into 149.    We made a quick right for 8 miles and found Drifters a biker bar in Richards, Texas.   Very hospitable and welcoming.    They have a large firepit outfront so Sandi and I warmed up for a minute before we bought a beer and a coke.   They told us about a large gathering they plan to have in May so hopefully we can go back and visit more.

We got out of there and headed south.   GPS said 50 miles to home.    Sun went down at 6:25 and so did the temperature.   Not sure what it was but we were both glad for leather and small clothes.     The ride down 149 is really a great winding flight that I will do gladly do again.

We discovered how tired we were when we got home and laughed at our wind burned faces.   Our puppies were delighted and overjoyed to have us.

Confrontation in Business

2012-01-06T21:11:00.000-06:00

Confrontation in Business.

     I hate confrontations. I generally will avoid personal confrontations for as long as I can. My friends will tell you that as they notice that I simply won't be around certain people.   I find it easier to just be over yonder when the aggressor or aggravator is in my locale.
Business, however, is a different matter.   Occasionally in business, I'm forced to confront someone or some entity who is strictly out for themselves.   Generally at my expense of course.
It took me awhile when I was young to slowly adapt.   I was a peacemaker from way back who believed in doing to others as I would have them do to me. This attracted my many customers but left me open for some short sighted business people. I found after many bruises that doesn't always work. Some business people look at me like I'm an apple tree.   They only want the fruit and they don't care what they have to do to pluck it. It's amazing to me that DC Mach Inc. has survived to this age.
I learned to recognize these particular scumbags and now avoid them if I can in my daily commerce.   If a deal surfaces, and it really has value, then the confrontational battle can begin.   I have to deal with these less than honorable D-k Heads every so often now.
     Fine.
The trick is being ready for someone who has no interest in your well being whatsoever. It takes a bit of practice for somebody like me.   Others get right to it with no problem.
So, here is the deal.   The vendors I hold close, know it.   I don't take advantage of them, I don't ask for too many concessions, I bend if they have a shipping problem or a cost issue.   Why? Cause we are of the same cut. I will actively look out for that type of businessman or woman.   We should take care of each other as best we can.   Any deal we make is mutually beneficial.
What's better than that?
In business, nothing.
But those who try and take instead of trade are easily seen now.    I wish I knew this when I started many years ago.   It would have saved me a ton of money and grief.
The only advice I can give to newbies and youngsters is find an older business mentor.   It will save you much stress as you go.
There will always be that guy who will walk into your yard to steal your newspaper, or kick your dog if nothing else is handy.
He wants your stuff, plain and simple. He thinks he has power.
Show him your teeth.

Circles

2011-12-29T21:19:00.002-06:00

Imagine. You, we, have a handful of pebbles. There is only so many but...

Really, quite a few, so throwing one in the water is no big deal. I mean, that's life, and what we ought to do. It's the effort we make to live.
One at a time at first.
You see the circles the waves make. They are perfectly round and spread out till you can't see them anymore. They move in all directions at once.
Even in directions we really had no intention.
It doesn't mean they are gone but only that we can't see them.
Each pebble is an effort.   I won't quantify it.   Something I've done. People I said hello to. Actions I've made. Doors I've opened. Chances I've taken. The leftover circle widens and disappears in the distance.   I have no idea where it goes or where it lands or what stops it entirely.
That also is life.
The really cool part to me is when several of us throw our pebbles at the same time.   We are all in the same circle. It is a miracle. We all make circles within circles and these spread out to touch others we may never even meet.   We are joined by the waves and by the combined efforts in tandem with others. We are each other's circles. We are truly not alone.
It is my most favorite part of life. It is something I've tried hard to keep going even when all trace of the circle is gone. Like when I miss the water and my pebble lands on sand. There is no reverbration or wave or anything that living things need.
Time moves on. Seasons change.
The water in which I throw my pebble seems small and uninviting. No one is here to make waves with me. This has been coming for a long time.   I could feel it.
Maybe my choice of pebble type is too discerning. Or my choice of water. None of it may matter anyway.
Still, I begin to see only my circle made from my single pebble. Like when I was young. Alone.
Then, I notice new Circles begin to show up and from the most unlikely areas.   I barely noticed them before yet they were there all the time. Just like at the beginning I discover that once again I'm throwing my pebble into the same circle as my buddies.   Life is sweet and not lonely.
I do miss my old acquaintances and I miss the person I was when I was with them. Yet, my water is stale and old to them. It doesn't attract those I thought I needed so badly as I once did.
I do miss those days. Badly.   As I miss my youth, and my middle age. Maybe I will miss my old age one day too!
I'm at the point where I throw way out.   I can't even see where my pebble lands. I know there is a wave. I have seen so many.    I have faith.   I will throw those pebbles for as long as I can and make all the circles there are.
I do love my circles.

The Dead Months (tween summer and Christmas)

2011-09-29T16:34:00.002-05:00

Ive been online with ebay, dcmachinc.com, amazon, and other online venues since 1999.   Not selling all that time, but almost.     The learning curve has drifted from benignly brutal at the beginning to outright torturous in these later years. I began to see selling patterns that seem to follow certain months of the year.    The easiest pattern to see comes during Nov and Dec.   The holiday season is our largest selling opportunity for the year.    However, Jan thru Mar has proven itself to be a good strong selling session too.    The rest of the year is what I consider the plodding months.    Business is good and we sell constantly now but it's just plodding along to our very busy end of year.
I'm beginning to see another pattern which happens along with the start of school.    That is a remarkable sales drop-off.    Ive taken to calling it the Dead Months.   This is when I have to buy tons of merchandise for the Christmas buying season even though sales are down across the board.
It makes it very hard.    How can I be so sure of the sales outcome in Dec when the economy is so bad all over the country and maybe even the world too?
How can I deplete my cash reserves and invest it in merchandise that just sits here in the warehouse and gathers dust?   How can I weaken my company overall by spending money in this wanton and careless manner?
While I'm in this two month time period paranoia creeps up and makes me second guess every move. I cut expenses and corners on every conceivable outlay.    I double check my employees and their effectiveness. I go over my notes every day to make sure I'm not forgetting something. I still try and find deals but I'm generally too scared to buy them for fear of running out of cash.
This is the time of year when I ought to take a vacation.    Sales are lower so we need fewer people here.   But being the business owner, and sales being slower, it makes it even more difficult to leave.
A quandry.
Then as the days move slowly by something begins to happen. Sometime in Nov. our daily sales figures go up a notch. (oh so slightly)    The packing guys don't finish up by 12 noon but by 1:30.    Our rolling shelves start filling up and take two guys to move them to the loading area.     Then Thanksgiving, and it's too late to change what I started in Sept.   Whatever stock I bought then, whatever plans I made, supplies I stored up------are all plunged into shipping chaos.   Everyone is working at max speed and max concentration.    We all run face-into-door of our own limits.   I'm cursing myself for not ordering more merchandise!   What was I thinking?    The whirlwind is upon us and we are on the edge of failure for 5 to 6 weeks.
I find at the end of this miraculous rush that the Dead Months are indeed real and terrifying.   At least for an online business owner like me.
Looking into the face of terrible short term sales and forecasting a boomtime is just one of the things I've learned over the years.   The boom is coming, no matter how bad it looks now.       We all have to work through our Dead Months and have faith that the good days are right around the corner.
Prepare now!
dc

Surpise! Your roof is gone!

2011-09-21T11:31:00.002-05:00

After a wonderful and touching trip up north to see my nephew and his family, Sandi and I arrived on a delayed flight in Houston.    We were exhausted from the trip.    Delays of all kinds tortured us on our return home.   It was like God was reminding us that no matter our humanitarian and Christian intent, we still had business to attend to at home.    We loved on our little dogs Mixie and Max as hard as we could and collapsed in bed thinking that we both had to go to work the next morning and somehow be coherent.   It was about 1:00am I think.    During the night Mixie hopped up on the bed to snuggle between me and Sandi.    She was trembling and looking up to the ceiling.    I could see her worried little face and her laid back ears as she listened to the storm that was blowing through.    I calmed her as best I could and threw a sheet over her.
Sure enough, the next morning we awoke late feeling sore and out of sorts.    Still we got ready.   I kissed my bride goodbye wishing her a good day.   She gave me a wry smile as I headed out.
My guys were waiting for me at the overhead door of my shop.   Vince wanted to know how my weekend was and did I have a great time.   I was immediately wary.    Stoney pipes up "Cause if you did, Vince is about to ruin it".      Vince waved for me to follow and we walked out back.     The shop dogs were delighted to see me and were jumping everywhere leaving muddy paw prints all over me on the way to the back storage building.    Walking in I see that Vince has already started rearranging and moving pallets and boxes to get the dry.   Our skylights had blown out of the roof and let a considerable amount of rain in.    Lots of wet boxes and merchandise surrounded us.    Vince was in his element taking care of moving and organizing.    He is a natural born organizer.    I highly recommend a guy like him if you don't have one.
As far as calamities are concerned I suppose this was a minor one.    I can get the roof repaired for about a $1500.    However the issue was a lack of security on my part.   I had the building built but couldn't decide on the type of door so I just ignored it and basically allowed this to happen.    The door is fairly large at about 10' square so a lot of storm wind could enter to do damage.     The merchandise that got wet is hardy and will dry without loss.   The boxes are another story.   I will probably have to buy several hundred dollars of cardboard boxes to replace them.
Another lesson.    Personal and business security needs to be addressed every day.     I'm lucky I didn't suffer the loss of the entire roof instead of just a few skylights.
I look at the sky.
"Ok, I get it.   It's a warning.     Thanx!"

Epic Fail Sales Tactic from the Past

2011-09-20T17:49:00.000-05:00

When I was a young oil field supply salesman in my 20's, I had a route I followed much like a bread or milk truck would now.    I had inventory at customers sites and would show up once a week to check the "counts". Whatever was missing I would replace and give the customer an invoice copy on the spot. Many times at these warehouses I was just one of many route salesmen and we competed for space, speed of delivery and depth of merchandise.    I drove a relatively new Ford van with shelves in the back that was sometimes dangerously overloaded with inventory.    I never wanted to miss a sale.   I was a kid and didn't have much mentoring, not to say I would have listened anyway.    I considered myself to be the BEST SALESMAN IN THE WORLD.
About the only advice I would take from anybody concerned sales tactics. For instance, while lame, sometimes gimmicks worked.   I mean, giving a pack of matches away in a bar probably didn't make any bar a penny.   While giving a coupon for a half price meal brings customers in. Some things work and some don't.     I tried buying lunches, bringing lunches, delivering free beer, free Six Flags tickets, free hats, free Tshirts, pens, lighters, notepads, license plate frames, bumper stickers...........
Nothing worked.    So while visiting with an old salesman one day he mentioned that he would stick a piece of gum in each box he delivered.    That way whenever someone opened it they would get the delightful surprise of a nice piece of chewing gum.    Sounded really great to me so I tried it.    After a couple of weeks and about $10 worth of chewing gum, sales hadn't increased at all.   $10 back then was probably comparable to $50 now.    So I decided that since my commission made it worthwhile I would tape a crisp $1 bill to the inside lid in each box.   I bet that would knock my competition totally out of the ring!
I made my delivery of the specially prepared boxes in my corner of the warehouse.   I could barely wait to see the sales figures the following week.
As I drove into the yard the following week to count the inventory I was surprised to see a mound of boxes and other trash that nearly blocked the overhead door.   Two or three men were rummaging around in the hill of trash looking for something.    My contact was standing there looking POd too so I began to kiss butt the moment I walked in. I was in shock to see the entire warehouse had been ransacked from one end to the other.   Every box opened up and dumped on the floor, piles of boxes and litter everywhere, emptied shelving, and smashed Styrofoam like snow all over the floor.
" Hey Shorty!" (for real)   What's going on, spring cleaning?"    He gave me a grimace and waved his arm at the mess.
"I don't know exactly, but one of the hands must of broke in here and tore up everything.    Kind a weird that nothing seems to be missing though.   Maybe you can help me separate your stuff so we can get it back on the shelf."
Sure I said and started picking up boxes.     It was then that I began to look for the dollar bills I had taped inside the lid. None in that box, or that one, or this one.   It dawned on me. Oh my God, punks came in here and practically destroyed the warehouse looking for those dollar bills!
I helped straighten up the warehouse most of the rest of the day.   I never mentioned that my dollar bill trick was probably what pushed the "worms" over the edge.    I learned a lesson like the sorcerer's apprentice.    I used just enough of the gimmick to get myself in potential trouble with my customer.    Giving stuff away for free generally attracts freeloaders.
And that just wasn't my customer.

Blue Marlin for the Wall

2011-09-20T13:43:00.001-05:00

Nothing is more memorable to the fisherman than a big fish to hang on the wall. Problem is that it winds up being one less trophy in the water. After you've owned a wall mount for a while you begin to feel that, yeah, it's nice, but it would be better if the fish was still alive to be caught another day. That's where our blue marlin wall mounts fit in so well. Hand painted resin sculptures that look gorgeous on the wall and serve the exact same purpose of reminding the fisherman or fisherwoman of a great day on the water. Plus they are remarkably less expensive than taxidermy mounts. For the purist, taxidermy is probably the only way to go but in the end, the memory is the thing we treasure the most.
http://www.dcmachinc.com/modules/store/HUGE-Gorgeous-48-Hand-Painted-Blue-Marlin-4-Long_P102578C7140.cfm

How To Have A Terrible Garage Sale

2011-09-03T12:03:00.000-05:00

I buy stuff from garage sales all the time.   For one reason it stokes my primal desire to get stuff cheap!   I also resell some of it on line.    A little extra cash can't hurt anybody.
     That's why it annoys me so much to see them done wrong. If you really want to have a terrible garage sale please follow these steps.
1. Use only one sign. Be sure and place it on a pole that no one will see. The lower to the ground the better. Make sure that it can't be seen until the driver is past the turn.
2. Also please don't use a large marker to write with. Use pencil or a light colored crayon. That way your buyers will have to slow down and obstruct traffic (possibly risking life and limb) to read the sign.
3. Never use a sign larger than a child's paper plate or a single sheet of of school paper. Write all over them in small print. Also use a small stick to tape them to. That way whenever the wind blows the sign will fold up and no one can read it.
4. Never use an "arrow" on your sign. If you must, make it so small that the buyer can't see which way it is pointing till they are past the turning point.
5. If you insist on using colored cardboard for your sign then please use black ink on blue, red ink on orange, gray ink on green , etc.
Now that we have the rules for signage figured out here are the rules for setting up your driveway for the sale.
6. Never put a large sign at your driveway. No balloons on the mailbox either. Don't do anything to draw attention to your sale on your own street.
7. When laying out clothing to be sold be sure and throw them down in piles all over the driveway. Never hang them up or arrange them by adult, teen, children, etc.
8. Be sure and have lots of mixed up mismatched clothing, broken toys, inexplicable pieces of cracked glasses, plates, plastic, bent forks and spoons, all in a jumble in a box. Turn the box over so they get stepped on a lot is even better.
9. Let buyers kids play with whatever they can get their hands on. The toys are pretty much used and worthless and the electronic items probably wouldn't have sold anyway.
10. If you have books be sure and leave them in piles on the driveway. If you treat them like trash then the buyers will too.
11. If you are selling tvs, computers, toasters, telephones, lamps, tables, etc. never clean them prior to the sale. Greasy fingerprints and cigarette tar/nicotine generally do wonders for sale items.
12. If you are selling rugs and have dogs and cats in the house please remember to not vacuum them. The new buyer loves to see thick animal hair all over their new purchase. Makes them smell nice too.
13. Hopefully there will be no parking on your street and you will have to stop every buyer from parking in your driveway just because you have that power.
14 If you can't speak English that will instantly cut down on a lot of your buyers. Definite plus!
15. Make it impossible to test electric items. No extension cords, no outlets, no nothing. Even better cut the plugs off all the appliances you are selling. Just tell your customer to replace the plug and it will work fine.
16. Never, absolutely never have any change. Make it impossible to be paid with a ten dollar bill and expect change back.
17. Always ask way too much (suggested retail is best) for your wore out crap.
18. Never offer help loading, or bags, or extra boxes. They should have brought their own.
19. Never smile or say hello, and especially don't welcome anybody into your driveway. Buyers are such an interruption anyway.
20. Be sure and stop selling whenever you are tired of it. (no matter what the fine print on your sign says). Remember to leave all your signs up too.  It's pretty funny to see your garage sale sign up for a month at a time.   Maybe you can mess up other garage sales just a little bit and they can have the same success that you had.

Another Sandi Quip

2011-05-26T12:02:00.000-05:00

Ive been thinking about starting a workout routine at the local gym with Sandi. I asked her which machine I should concentrate on so as to impress the young ladies. She looked me up and down and said "the ATM".

Sandi Quips

2011-05-26T08:42:00.004-05:00

I come in from outside and my hair is blown every which a way. One of my buddies says hey you are just like Einstein, and Sandi pops up with, "Only without the brains!"