You Can't Catch a Chupacabra With a Corn Dog
Then there is little Totoro the cat who lives down stairs where we sleep. He is a fur ball with enough energy to power a convoy of over-loaded Toyota Prius over the Rockies. He is into everything. Twice tonight he has retyped my blog when I wasn't looking. Above he is playing me at chess. He isn't that good however. I beat him 3 out of 4 games.
Sean and the boys, (Noah and Robert) repaired the jeep this week, taking the head gasket off and replacing the old worn one, then the oil and other tweaks to get Jeepney Driver VII back in first rate running order. I used it to job interview a couple of places this week, as well take Sean to a weird interview in Mexico. (Not that Mexico, Mexico Missouri, though its a nice Segway to the Chupacabra title...)
They filled the jeep with Royal Purple Oil, though from what I can tell, its the same color as regular oils are.
Driving much better I went to a job interview on Tuesday at the Columbia Lawncare LCC which is out in the country in a pastoral setting with can shaped hay stacks, open fields and white gravel roads. It is headquartered in a barn and has an office next to it, both prefab metal buildings that are both roomy and cheap to build. There is no company sign as customers do not seem to come to the office, but rather it is a mowing crew company wanting to better expand into lawn maintenance with fertilizers, some decorative bed gardening and general up keep of large accounts like apartment complexes. I wrote them a sample Fall service program using current account companies they subscribe to for products, and some other companies where they have no account but need the service of that particular lawn care agent. I shopped around for good pricing and sent it off in a nice package e-mail to hopefully clench the deal on hiring me. It worked, though not before I went in for a second application this week, trying to make sure something in the way of employment was lined up soon. The second application I put in was with Ortho Pest Control. The manager there seemed like a first class ass, and not nearly as affable as Allen was at Columbia Lawncare.
Sean meanwhile is getting antsy waiting for the Flat Branch to call him in and has been called in for an interview with Tradesmen International, who seem interested in his welding skills. This would in our minds be far a better gig than restaurant work, though we have to be sure its a legitimate Job and not a Job Service posing as a welding job only to extract a fee from him for their employment assistance. This is a common BS go -between in these parts and about what half the Arkansas job offers are run through. Thus one has to beware of little scams since one can look for work as good as any service without paying them a fee. If this place is legit, they are telling Sean he will work as far away as Louisiana and Mississippi, and travel two weeks at a time to remote job sights. That sounds like real welding to me.
Before that however I spotted a welding job in the Craigslist in Mexico Missouri, and we decided to put an application in for it. The drive there was not quite as far as Old Mexico, nor New Mexico, but it was a darn sight farther than I ever drove before to fill out a job application. To celebrate the waste of gas to Mexico, we ate lunch at Taco bell. After stuffing ourselves with cha-cha congas we drove another 20 miles farther still to a sleepy little berg near No-where'sville and certainly wa-a-a-a-y beyond reasonable commute distance.
We arrived at the "Armed Camp" which was our destination
to find the entire property surrounded in high link fence with barbed wire around the top, with a second fence on the inside and a security check point in a small trailer leading to the inner sanctum of the main warehouse. For a town in the middle of Missouri corn fields this looked entirely like a military industrial complex to me. Sean approached and was stopped by two armed guards. "What is your business?" they demanded with proper CIA-esque paranoia.
"I came to answer a job add on Craigslist." Sean replied.
"What job listing?" said Rent-a-cop one.
"No one told us about any job listing." said Rent-a-cop two.
"Try the help wanted section." suggested Sean.
They got on the phone to their fuehrer who did in fact back up Sean's story. Lucky for us "the Boss" did or I might be writing this entry from Guantanamo Base Prison right now.
Sean came back to the jeep to fill out the application. "Gosh I hope I don't get this job." Sean grumbled as he filled in the blanks and permission slips for background checks and other legal paranoia attached to the paperwork. We left the place content in the knowledge that working there was not any better than being unemployed derelicts. We decided then and there to go fishing rather than sweat poverty. If he was hired we would have to keep the job after all. I'm sure their retirement package involves an assassin making sure you don't spill any Government secrets.
Coming back home I learned my job
application had been accepted and I start Monday. One less problem for now at least.
We worked on the new smoker. So far I have invested about $200 in metal toward the practice exercise which Sean is welding together in our considerable free time. Noah came out giving us some pictures and posing for a few mugs himself.
Talking again with my long lost Nephew he reminds me more of me at his age than he does my brother Dan. Though a very large fellow (he looks at home with a group of line-backers eating turkey drumsticks) we also have some differences. We both spent time drifting for sure, but oddly he is from Virginia and raised in Arkansas thus very rural, while I was born in Arkansas, spent the last 25 years in Virginia and am much more cosmopolitan. Sean is a city boy who takes to country living like a cow takes to blooming buttercups.
True to our promise to
ourselves this Sunday we set out for Finger Lake, where one can fish for fish, shoot guns at targets, and presumably hunt and shoot fish simultaneously if the situation arises. It didn't. We did catch two minnows and a fish that if it had a full belly weighed about 1/8th of a pound. Sean did feed the fish in lake well again however, and they swam away with all our store-bought red wigglers entirely hook free.
I spoke with Terry by phone yesterday, who is finally back from his Alaska Vacation. Seems he likes the place but not well enough to move there and drill oil wells. We are invited to ride with him on his boat and fish in Arkansas. We look forward to feeding those fish our worms as well, and further hope they are a little less shy about biting down on hooks.
That's all the blogging worth telling tonight. Tomorrow I go to work. May the Cash be with me.