When I was a kid there was an insurance man who came to our house every so often. And now that I think about it… why? I’ve been an adult since late 1980, according to the standard definition. And since… OK, it’s still a work in progress according to the real world. In any case, I can’t remember an insurance man coming to any of my houses or apartments, not once. What in the world? This guy would show up with a briefcase and a petroleum-based sport coat, and spread papers all over our coffee table while my parents looked on with solemn expressions. It’s all very mysterious.
And he had a hook! The man had a metal hook where his right hand should’ve been. But he could manipulate that thing like a chef at Benihana. There was a lot of flashing and clicking, and paper-shuffling. My folks would always warn my brother and me not to stare at this monthly spectacle, but it was a difficult thing to ignore. Hell, the contortionist who performed during halftime at the Harlem Globetrotters wasn’t as fascinating. And he could’ve shouted up his own bunghole and triggered a rectal echo (recho?).
I always wondered how the man lost his hand. Maybe he got it caught in some kind of industrial machine? Or somebody let loose with a banshee scream and lopped it off with a sword? Or he made a drunken cherry bomb miscalculation? There are many possible scenarios.
One time he knocked on our door with his more traditional hand, and my brother yelled, “Mom, Captain Hook is here!” This caused some awkwardness, as you might imagine. But my brother was a little kid, possibly pre-1st grade. So, c’mon. But the guy clearly didn’t care for the comment, and was acting all huffy about it and causing great embarrassment for my mother. I didn’t like any of that. If I had a hook, I’d never stop making jokes — mostly, but not exclusively, about wiping. Ya know? I lost a lot of respect for our insurance salesman with the after-market hand that day. Oh well. Life is full of disappointments.
Do you have any similar tales to tell? Recurring insurance men? People with fascinating disabilities? Cringe-worthy statements from the mouths of hooligan children? Please share. Also, what happened to all the hooks? I don’t see them anymore.
And speaking of disappointments, our Big-Ass Television (BAT) has shit the bed from headboard to footboard. It is, however, ten years old, purchased with my final Warner Home Video bonus, for roughly $2500. Crazy! It’s so big I think they shipped it in by rail. And now the same company (Best Buy) is going to have to cart it outta here. They brought it in, and they’re going to take it out. Toney and I will buy a new and much better TV this afternoon, for less than $500, have it delivered (for free) and pay a $15 fee to have the old one removed. Money well-spent. I’m not dealing with that behemoth.
I paid about $2500 for my first computer too, in 1995 or 1996. It had a big 1.3 gigabyte hard drive, and our first ISP was Mindspring. That machine would freeze up all the time, and had a tower roughly the size of a nightstand. The $300 laptop I bought a couple of months ago is approximately ten million times better than that ridiculous thing. But I had fun with it. Some of my favorite websites back then included rotten dotcom and portalofevil. My mind, already warped, was pushed completely over the edge by those and similar sites. Remember when you could still be shocked by things? Ahhh, good times.
Here’s part of a new review of Crossroads Road at Amazon: Ridiculous with absolutely zero substance, but well-written and utterly hilarious!! I am totally OK with that one. But this one is still my favorite: I recently obtained this book for free through Amazon. I think I overpaid for it. It is a sophomoric piece of trash. It’ll be hard to beat that one. In fact, I’m thinking about revising the cover to include “A sophomoric piece of trash!” at the top. Clearly, this person hasn’t read my thoughts on hand hooks.
A couple of weeks ago I started something I call Project Petty. The plan was to take advantage of the crazy-low prices on the original Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers CDs at Amazon: everything from the first album through Full Moon Fever. I have fond and nostalgic memories of those records, but never got them on CD for some reason. Right now they’re almost all priced at $4.99, with free Prime shipping. So, the plan was to buy them in order, two at a time.
I snagged the first two with no problem. Somehow, I don’t think I ever owned You’re Gonna Get It, the second album. Almost all of it is new to me. So, that’s pretty cool. Then it was time to buy Damn the Torpedoes and Hard Promises. And the second one isn’t available. I’m almost certain it was when I first looked, but not anymore. So, I had to buy from a third party and it cost almost ten bucks with shipping. Project Petty was not launched with such uncertainties in mind.
Now I’m on to the third group: Long After Dark and Southern Accents. The first one is available, but it says it will ship within TWO MONTHS. What in the undeniable shit?? And Southern Accents isn’t available at all, apparently. So, I’m going to have to go third party on those two, as well? This whole thing is a disaster. I was mentally calibrated for $4.99 each, free shipping. Now everything’s in disarray. It’s an outrage! I think I’m going to call Jesse Jackson.
Have any of you purchased one of those Ancestry DNA tests? I’m intrigued, but wonder how precise they are. I’d be pissed if I handed over $200 (or whatever) and got a report that just says “Europe.” Know what I mean? Do you have any experience with it? If so, I’d love to know your thoughts. How much did it cost in total? Were you happy with the results? Did you learn anything interesting? Please use the comments section to bring us up to date on it.
And I’m going to call it a day, my friends. We have a ludicrously large TV to purchase.
I’ll see you again soon!
Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!
I did purchase one of those Ancestry DNA kits for $99. I thought it was fun, no big surprises, but I am 1% Jewish. I don’t know of any Jewish ancestors. Anyway it was a fun $99 well spent.
Some of my antecedents were Methodists, the French Canadians were Catholic, the Scottish side were Presbyterians, and the Alabama folks were Baptists. I guess I should send my DNA in and get the exact percentages.
jtb
We had the same insurance guy thing- probably early ’60s?. I still have no idea what it was all about but he did have all of his appendages, as far as I know.
I haven’t done the Ancestry DNA kit but I recently submitted a DNA sample and the results will supposedly tell me what foods I should at and what I should avoid to not be fat.
Now, more importantly, will you please tell us the results of the cable guy bribe?
I bought the Ancestry DNA kit for my husband, mostly because he was not very well-connected to his biological father’s family since childhood and wondered about the heritage from that side of the family. At a young age he was told by his father, or a relative, that he had Native American ancestors and that a framed photo of a Native American person in the home of this relative was his great- or great-great grandfather. When the DNA results came back, his known ancestry of Irish and Czech origin was verified, but the results showed absolutely no Native American DNA. Now he is left wondering if the “Indian in the photo” was just a bad joke on a little kid that got out of hand. Since his father was out of the picture from about the time my husband was 5 years old and all the relatives from that side of the family lived in another part of the country, he took this as fact into his adulthood, and it is a belief that was shared by his brother and sister. Everything else in the DNA results matched what he knew of his ancesters, except that.
My mum is heavily into genealogy and had the dna thing done. You summed it up the results pretty well. Unless other people have already done some thorough digging and provided that data to the dna place, you will be disappointed in the results.
Maybe Captain Hook was somehow tied to your dad being the fire chief. Lots of claims and such to deal with. Or like doctors, insurance agents made a house call. Beats me, I don’t ever remember any insurance agents coming around.
My wife did an ancestry kit.
She had to carve off one of her fingers and put it in a little jar.
When we got the results it was just a letter in an envelope. It said, “You’re white.”
I do not recommend Cliff’s Kissin’ Cousins Ancestry Kit.
Early on Hubster decided we needed life insurance. They sent over this kid with a laptop that weighed 35 pounds. I was a bartender at the time and we were on a margaritta jag. Being polite boozers we ask the kid if he wants one. “Sure” he says with too much entheuseasm. That guy acted like he was sittin’ at the big boy table for the first time. Yeah well, we didn’t buy his insurance and I’m sure he didn’t remember it the next day.
Daughter will be mourning the loss of the BAT. She was little when I told her what BAT means and she still uses the term today.
Looking at the picture above: Did they finally find Waldo or is that what happened to my insurance kid?
there was a guy in L.A. principal of a almost all black high school in the ghetto. he was local director of the NAACP chapter and was involved in many black oriented organizations.
so he decided to do the DNA thing. mon
th later he gets the results. 90% american indian and 10% indo European. he said it took him quite a while to get over it.
I did “23andme.” The genetic data provided is somewhat interesting, but its value lies in all the third-party genetic reports I can run (some paid and some unpaid) regarding specific genetic mutations, their impacts on my health, and specific nutrients to take or avoid. At the time I did the test, I believe it cost $99, and I’ve probably spent at least as much on reports from other source that utilize the data. It is well worth it in my opinion for the raw data alone.
As for learning where my ancient maternal ancestor was from (somewhere in the Caucasus, near modern-day Dagestan), and that I have a higher-than-average amount of Neanderthal DNA . . . it’s interesting, but not really worth the $150 or so if you do not intend to run your data through other reports.
How is it possible that the BAT is 10 years old. Yikes that went by fast.
On project Petty… I got one of those Amazon Echos for Christmas and rolled my eyes like I would ever use it. Dude that thing is the bomb! For $3.99 per month I can call up almost any album or song. No need to buy CDs ever again. I throw really obscure songs/artists/albums at it and it finds almost all of them. All of Frank Zappa is there an all you have to do is ask. I am pretty sure Tom Petty would not be a problem.
P.S. I do not work or profit from Amazon.
I did one of those Ancestry DNA tests, and found out I am pure Viking.
I did one of those Ancestry DNA tests, and found out I am pure Sub-Zero.
I don’t recall any insurance salesmen, but we did have occasional visits from the Fuller Brush man. This would have been 1967 at the latest.
No DNA tests here; all I have is family lore, which tells me I have two ancestors who were Civil War veterans. One of each, Union and Confederate.
The Fuller brush man and the Avon lady! I loved them. He always gave away vegetable brushes, I bet there is one in my moms house right now. Avon lady gave me tiny little lip sticks. Pure gold to a 5 year old girl. My first memory of disappointment was when Mom told me NOT to answer the door and be quiet. We hid in the hallway until she walked next door.
Lisa said she remembered the insurance guy visiting her mom and dad’s with the hook and always wore a brown suit…my grandmother had an insurance guy who wore a similar suit but had both hands and a big ole cigar that smelled like the old fogies stogie…
If you don’t like long comments, please skip this one. OK, I warned you.
Just a couple random notes on genetic analysis . . .
Everybody is from Africa. That is, homo sapiens sapiens appeared in southeast Africa about 200,000 years ago. We moved out of Africa (after a couple of abortive attempts) about 50,000 years ago, absorbing, then wiping out the two other human populations (Neanderthals and Denisovans). Some homo sapiens sapiens stayed in Europe, mated with Neanderthals, then wiped them out. Some moved east, absorbed, then wiped out the Denisovans, moved north, then east again, and across the last ice age bridge to North America about 12,000 years ago. A third group moved along the ocean to and through southeast Asia and ended up in Australia and New Zealand.
If you keep up with this field, you know how dangerously I oversimplified this dynamic. If you don’t you probably don’t care. The point is, we carried our DNA with us and picked up the DNA of two other human groups to which we were already related along the way.
Since DNA changes (mutates) at a predictable rate ONLY over vast amounts of time, we can SORT OF look at a current human genome and work backward and make a guess as to where (at least on which continent) this genome was likely to originate. We can sometimes, but not always, use genetic markers (specific genetic sequences within the genome) to make a reasonable guess as to roughly where on a continent, and roughly when, the marker originated. Nobody knows — all these for-profit companies like Ancestry dot com claim to know, but NOBODY KNOWS how accurate geographic location tracking of the markers of human genomics is. Certainly accurate enough to detect a Neanderthal in the woodpile, and certainly not accurate enough to know whether the genome passed through, say, Athens rather than Sparta or Rome or Constantinople.
On a slightly different topic, the notion that one can use an individual human genome to determine an optimal diet is, most likely, to use a scientific term, horseshit. In fact, it turns out that very, very few diseases and other non-optimal human conditions are courteous enough to be triggered by a single gene. Geneticists have found a few diseases that are highly correlated with a gene or two, and thank God for that, but these instances are few and far between. At this point, much to the disappointment of the optimistic expectations of the Human Genome Project, which concluded in 2003, we know very little of the dynamic by which genotypic states and sequences manifest themselves in phenotypic conditions. In biology, the answer almost always involves proteins, but we’re decades away from broadly being able to follow the process from gene sequences to specific human attributes (like hooks appearing on the ends of arms).
So spend your hundreds of bucks if you want. If you really want to help science while helping yourself, spend your money at the Genographic Project at National Geographic. It’s possible that your grandchildren will be able to use dynamic genetics, involving messenger RNA, autosomal DNA, Y-line and X-chromosome DNA, and mitochondrial DNA, along with DNA-created proteins, to anticipate and mitigate diseases and other suboptimal human conditions to extend quality life. They might also, at last, be able to determine who their antecedents were.
Until then, this is a pleasant diversion for those who are bored, and a huge revenue source for a few corporate entities. But so are Frisbees and golf. Live and be well.
John
But the Mormons over at Ancestry.com said I was a Viking. Are you trying to tell me that I went out and bought a Viking hat for no good reason?
No. How the hell are you going to pillage and maraud at the local convenience store without a Viking hat?
jtb
excellent point.
I mean this in all sincerity John, that was the most interesting thing I’ve read in a while. Thanks for the long, albeit educational post.
Thanks for that summary John. Puts it all nicely into perspective.
I almost bought a computer from a certain store in the early 1990s. I returned it. I would probably still be paying for it.
I recall people selling Encyclopedias door to door.
My mom bought the 300th anniversary edition of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, with an additional “youth version” thrown in, in 1968 from a door to door guy, for something like $300, which was a small fortune for the time. I probably read the junior version cover to cover twice (this and a photographic memory got me through college, I swear).
A year later, we hosted two 21-ish guys from Ireland on a “gap year” visit to the US and they were hooked up as vacuum cleaner salesmen – they lasted about three weeks and in desperation they begged my parents for a way out. My dad got them hired sight unseen at the local hospital as orderlies/gophers. Never saw such relief on anyone’s face before – they made real money and didn’t have to whore themselves out.
My parents had an insurance man who showed up at the house now and then through the mid 80s. I remember my mother commenting on what a novelty it was that he still made “house calls,” so I’m guessing it wasn’t a real common thing by that time. All I remember about him is that he laughed like Elmer Fudd.
Just a heads up, Ancestry.com is not all fun and games, the Mormon church is highly involved and invested in the databases and the information they contain for use in post-death Baptisms.
You can’t pay me to submit my DNA to any of those websites, who knows who they will sell it to and the next thing you know I’m being tracked by the government.
I don’t remember insurance guys, but I do remember my parents bought an insanely expensive vacuum cleaner from a door to door salesman. At the time I was suffering from severe asthma, and as such was allergic to pretty much everything , including the family dog and even dust. They dropped almost $1000 on a Rainbow vacuum cleaner that had a water tank to trap dirt and dust as opposed to a bag. It was 1980, and my dad was about an E5 in the Navy, $1000 was a crap-ton of money. I remember the salesman was demonstrating its power and told my mom to put a sofa cushion in a trashbag and the vacuum would suck all the dirt and dust out of it. Sure enough, it sucked all the air out and flattened the cushion left the water in the tank a nasty brown. Then he told me I could sit on it and ride it back up as it refilled. Fun for a 6-7 yr old.
I finally made my dad throw it out last year…it had been serviced once, but otherwise had run for over 30 years. I guess he got his moneys worth.
The Rainbow! During college days – early 1980s – we once had a visit from a guy named Dan (a.k.a. Dan Dan the Vacuum Man) who was selling them door-to-door. He showed up around 10 on a Sunday morning, at which time we were just waking up. Being good hosts, we of course offered him a beer. The demo was interesting; the machine is basically a motorized bong, which is cool. Did not purchase, surprising as it may seem.
When I worked at the National Museum of American History in Costume Conservation we used a Rainbow to suck the arsenic out of old textiles. If it was good enough for Americas Attic it must be good.
As an old textile, I briefly dated a woman who could do that. Very briefly, to my sadness.
jtb
Oh John, now stop that!
familysearch.org (also affiliated with the Mormons) offers free searchable access to many census records up to and including 1940 and other pertinent genealogical stuff. It requires effort to investigate and research, but it can be quite interesting and there’s no subscription or invasive DNA collecting, etc. I’ve killed quite a few rainy afternoons researching my family’s census records, as well of those of friends, neighbors, famous people, semi-obscure celebrities, and original occupants of the oldest houses in my town. Yeah, I’m weird. So what?
If you are interested in geneology, they are the place to go since they are the only place that has ammassed and cataloged old records. Spent too much time at the local family history center with microfiche machines (as an outsider). That time has also learnt me to cast a very wary eye on anything somebody posts online as a tree. Way too many people jump to conclusions when looking through old records. And if like me with european background, everybody seems to be named with the same limited first names. And a couple that struck me is parents that had a stillborn, or infant death named the next kid the same name. So when you are trying to figure out if your great great great great grandmother Maria Jinglehimerschmidt was 80 or 90 years old when she died, and you have a birth record that shows she would be 90 (same name) and then one day you find death records that show an infant death at 10 years old to the same parents, with a girl of the same first name, you roll your eyes and now get to go check out more birth records to find the same name, born to the same parents a number of years later… And then when you just look at names in general, you find this practice was very common…
Then theres the digitized records, I’m wary of them as well, having spent time on the microfiche, those hand written records need a lot of scruitinization in some cases. One set of church records in particular, you could follow the drinking pattern of the priest making the entires, everything started out with very nice easy to read handwriting, and as the drink flowed, the writting became all that more muddy. Digitizing leaves a lot of openings for error. You’ll always want to verify with the image of the microfiche record if possible. And when you see some of that microfiche material you’ll get a whole new appreciation for the work that some people put into it.
Genetic markers for northern Europeans, eastern Slavic, etc. are rubbish based on very sketchy generalizations. Using similar logic, you could expect a 97% match with a chimpanzee or howler monkey and still know nothing more about your past. Save your money. The ancestry (family tree) work is far more illuminating and cheaper.
Back when TVs were fixable, the TV guy would show up at our house wth a deluxe case full of sundry vacuum tubes, specialty tools and electronic gadgets. Fascinating enough for a 10 year old kid… but the guy was missing his lower jaw. Dad said he was wounded (WW2) in Italy. I got to tell you that it was hard not to stare at him, especially when he was smoking a cigarette w/holder while working. Mom would give me the “stare” to make me knock it off but it was sort of a goulish fascination that you hard to share with your buddies afterwards. It was sad really and even as a kid, you realized that but the juvenile curiousity in you couldn’t be repressed. The TV would always get fixed… later to go legs up after about 2 or 3 weeks….call the repair guy.
I’m not a particular Tom Petty fan. I don’t feign severe gastritis when his name comes up or anything, and Benmont Tench IS a genuine heartbreaker. I’ve just never found the need to purchase any of Mr. Petty’s records, except for the Traveling Wilburys stuff. But I want to publically thank Jeff for actually spending a couple of paragraphs on popular music for the first time in a month of Sunday morning sidewalks.
I’ve been listening to a fair amount of Mishka Shubaly lately. Here’s a short sample of his work in the form of Don’t Cut UR Hair, written and with guitar by Mishka, but with vocals by guest crooner Chad Shank.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8gFD_jU3Vo
And here is Mishka as writer, guitar player and singer, performing his should-be hit song, The Only One Drinking Tonight . . .
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pd3mgzUYFkk
Anyway, thanks again, Jeff. I look forward to your next music musing.
John
My dad grew up in a small farmhouse at the end of a long gravel road. One day a traveling vacuum-cleaner salesman showed up at the door and commenced to giving my great-grandmother the business about how fantastic his vacuums were. She thanked him for coming but said she really wasn’t interested and had no use for such a thing, etc..
But this fellow was ready, and promptly dumped a coffee can full of sand, cat hair, and other filth on her large heirloom oval rug in the living room, and spread it around with his foot. Now having her full attention, the salesman whipped out the vacuum’s cord and gleefully said, “And now I’ll really show you how this baby cleans dirt! Where’s your outlet?”
“I tried to tell,” the old woman replied, “we can’t use that because WE DON’T HAVE ELECTRICITY!”
True story, or so my dad claims …
All my supposed ancestry was a lie. Found this out when I met my real father ten years ago, who died in December. I always knew my american indian looking “dad” was not for real.
What the hell is going on in that picture up there?
Dear Sirius XM: Jay Thomas sucks! Why give him a new two year contact on Comedy Greats. Dude is far from great.
Looks to me like a grid search for Waldo…he’s dead on the bank.
Ah, yes, that was driving me crazy too. Now I see the cops with Waldo’s hat (toboggan, tossle cap, knit hat, whatever) and the media covering it.
Naked from the waist down. Suspect foul play?
I thought Jay Thomas was dead?
Unfortunately no. On Sirius xm Comedy Greats channel every afternoon. Thanks to all for clearing up the Waldo crime scene.
Not to get political here, but I’m gonna get political.
I’ve been reading articles on voter ID problems. The most common theme is not that people should have to have an ID, but that it is hard for some people to get an ID. It’s hard for poor people to afford it. It’s hard for people without cars to get to the place they need to be to get an ID to get a license to drive the car they need to drive to get to the place you get drivers licenses. You have to have a birth certificate, or marriage license, or some other form to prove who you say you are to get an ID that tells other people who you are. And so on.
I still don’t understand.
I knew a girl who was born in the woods, delivered by her uncle, never met anybody out of her family before she was 6, didn’t know how to start a car, didn’t know fans could be attached to ceilings, had to walk through half a mile of pine forest to get to the dirt road to get to the gravel road to get to the paved road to get the town that had one store that only sold one kind of milk, didn’t have a social security number until she was 18, could play guitar and accordion like a beast, drank well water, learned to read using only the Holy Bible a mirror and the Hank Williams album “Moanin’ the Blues” she played on a hand cranked Victrola, who thought candy meant honeysuckle or blackberries, still doesn’t know the three branches of government, has never paid taxes, has never received “benefits”, took her baths weekly with her family in the lake on the other side of the high-line, didn’t know what the high-line was, hadn’t handled money until she was 12, understood particle physics based on nothing but watching squirrels throw acorns at each other but didn’t have the vocabulary to say “particle physics”, shared her shoes with her brother, had to take turns on the corn meal machine because that was their only toy, and thought the sky was held up by the clouds.
She still got along fine when she decided to go to school and had to get a government ID to register. What’s so hard about getting an ID card when you live in a city on 1 million people?
Huzzah!
Not that I followed the narrative, but two notes:
1) If you understand particle physics based on squirrels throwing acorns, then you don’t understand anything about particle physics, and
2) The European-American elite have spent 225 years erecting barriers to the enfranchisement of racial, ethnic and religious minorities (and of course 130 years preventing women from voting). THAT’S the point — not the acquisition of some ID card.
John
In 2000 I worked as a census enumerator. I interviewed an elderly black man who could not give his exact birth date because he was born in the early 20th century in a rural area where black people’s births weren’t officially recorded. Over the years the requirements for driver’s licence and other identity documents have become much stricter, and people who had a licence in one state or under old rules may not be able to get one after moving to a new state, or when rules change.
And, of course, not everyone lives in a city of a million people with DMV offices nearby. Just requesting an official copy of a birth certificate can be complicated – my home state requires that I mail them a copy of my driver’s licence. So I may need the birth certificate to get the licence, and the licence to get the birth certificate. And of course there are fees. Every barrier like this makes it less and less likely that the poor or those who live far from metropolitan areas will have the same access to basic government documents and thus the ability to vote.
And if you think substantially unequal access doesn’t matter, then you and I have very different ideas about the basic principles of democracy.
These days you have to say “period” when you end a zinger like that.
Here is your proof of food smackers Jeff.
http://www.bbc.com/news/health-38842561
Jeff…..Are you ok? Its been a while..
On a related topic, I think it’s interesting that the only two Republican senators with balls are women. Not surprising, just interesting.
John
And that’s still four more balls then the entire Democrat party in the US..
When we hit the 2-week mark tomorrow and Jeff still hasn’t posted, should somebody call the authorities and report a possible murder-suicide?!
A search party may be in order, not unlike this update’s picture.
I’ll guest post while we wait for Jeff.
Here’s a thing that happened yesterday afternoon.
———-
Now everyone at my local Ace Hardware thinks I’m growing weed. I’m not growing weed. Sometimes I smoke tobacco from a pipe. I’ve even had a friend hand carve pipes for me. I like to sit on my patio and read while smoking Virginia and Burley tobacco.
I also like to do things myself. I’ve built guitars, composed music, built electronics, build shelves (poorly), wrote stories, wrote a screenplay, and so on.
This year i decided I want to try to grow and process my own tobacco.
I go to Ace and ask where the seed planters are. Here’s how the conversation goes:
—–
Me: I’m starting some plants and I need seed planters, where are those?
Ace: They’re over here. Follow me.
Me: Thanks. Hey I need some dirt too, you have any dirt?
Ace: What kind of dirt do you need?
Me: I’m starting some seedlings that everything says to grow like tomatoes, so just whatever you would put tomatoes in.
Ace: Oh. Okay. Yeah. Don’t use Miracle Grow, it’ll kill your plants dead to the root.
Me: Bummer, so what should I use.
Ace: Well, we have this, and this, and this. Then if you want to go organic we have a few things. Do you want to go organic?
Me: Yeah probably. I should.
Ace: What are you growing?
Me: Tobacco.
Ace: *stares at me for a moment*
Me: All the stuff I read said to grow it like you grow tomatoes.
Ace: Alright, yeah. I get it. So if you’re ingesting anything like smoking or cooking with it, you don’t have to go organic, but you really should.
Me: *sort of weirded out*. Why would I cook tobacco?
Ace: Oh, I was just saying for anything like that. But you are going to smoke it, right?
Me: Yeah.
Ace: Okay, so just tell us what you’re growing so we can tell you the right stuff. We don’t care.
Me: *lightbulb* I’m growing tobacco. I’m not growing weed.
Ace: Okay. Same thing, sense you’ll be smoking it, it’s best to go organic. Try this and this. So, what else do you need.
Me: Nothing, I’ll come get some pots to transfer the sprouts into later. I have everything else at home.
Ace: yeah, what do you have at home?
Me: Seeds. And a window.
Ace: *looks at me*
Me: And water. I have running water at my house.
Ace: Do you have enough light?
Me: Yeah. I have windows all over my house.
Ace: *stares at me*
Me: And we live in Arizona. So, yeah. Plenty of light.
Ace: That’s all you got.
Me: Yeah. Well what else do you need to grow stuff. Water, dirt, and light. The plant sort of does the rest. I built a growing table for outside.
Ace: So you’re gonna move the plants outside?
Me: Yeah.
Ace: Do you need any shade? Like some tarps or nets or anything?
Me: I’m not growing weed.
Ace: Oh it’s okay we don’t care. You must live outside of town.
Me: *stares at them*
Ace: So do you need any heat lamps or anything?
Me: No. It gets plenty hot here. In Arizona.
Ace: If you get one of these kits you can grow the whole thing inside, you don’t have to worry about moving them. *shows me an indoor growing lab*
Me: I’m not growing weed.
Ace: That’s cool. So no heat lamps then?
Me: Nope, just the trays and the dirt.
Ace: We don’t care what you grow. We just want to know so we can tell you how to do it.
Me: I’m not growing weed.
Ace: We have some Happy Frog systems.
Me: I don’t know what that means.
Ace: Oh they’re the best. High Times has some great reviews on them and they are easy to use.
Me: Nope, I don’t want to get so involved that i am using something called a “system”. Just the trays and dirt. I’m not growing weed.
Ace: We don’t mind.
Me: Really I’m just growing tobacco.
Ace: Okay. Well come back if you need anything else on a different day.
Me: *stares at them trying to figure out why they said “on a different day” like that*. Thanks.
—–
I’m not growing weed. Do I fit some standard mold of a guy who wants to grow his own weed?
Do they just assume everyone who needs to start some seeds is growing pot? Did I have a reefer cigarette on my ear and not know it? Why did they keep telling me to tell them what I was growing after I told them I was growing tobacco.
It probably has something to do with this weird tic that I have. When I tell the truth and someone doesn’t believe me I can’t help but laugh. So when they doubted me after I said I was growing tobacco I started chuckling like a retard on the Ferris wheel. They probably thought I was so high that I figured I could grow and smoke my own pot that same day.
Not only did they clearly think I was trying to grow marijuana, but they were really into it. Like, the people who work the garden section at Ace really wanted me to say I was growing weed. Did they wanted a hook up? Or maybe they are narcs. Either way, they were really interested in me saying that I was growing weed. Apparently they wanted me to grow the best bud I could. Were they assessing whether or not to recruit me into their little weed growing group? Is Ace Hardware front for home grown drug supplies? Is the garden section for marijuana, the plumbing section for meth, the hardware section for zorbet, and home goods section for cocaine shipping?
It was all very strange.
And now the staff at my favorite store think I’m a nature lovin’, tree huggin’, pot smokin’, groovy kinda cay who does his spring weed prep shopping at a local store and is so nonchalant about it that I just grow the plants right out in my back yard.
LMAO…thanks for the fill-in!
I just remembered that one of my brothers got fired from Ace Hardware in high school. For stealing a grow light. Because he’d been growing pot on my parents’ roof but the plants were getting too tall and you could see them from the street, so he transferred them to a buddy’s house where said plants were dying in a closet w/o any light. And instead of asking the boss @ Ace for an advance and making up a story about growing tobacco/tomatoes, brother was caught red-handed and got canned. His boss had observed him walk out the front door with something and when pursued/questioned, the evidence was discovered shoved into the hedge my brother was standing next to. So his plants died. And he didn’t have any money to buy pot because he didn’t have a job anymore.
What a brain trust.
That was a whole lot better than your last post. Just sayin’.
Throw enough shit against the wall and some of it is bound to stick.
If your shit sticks to the wall, it’s possible you have digestive problems. I’d either see a gastroenterologist or start ingesting massive amounts of marijuana, which aids digestion and relaxes the colon. I live in a state where it’s entirely legal to grow your own, but since you don’t, be careful not to get busted. Prison food plays hell with peristalsis. Good luck.
John
I’m not growing weed.
Are you growing weed?