I also attended a lot of concerts in the 70s and 80s. It was a great time, no one was fighting or breaking bottles over each other's heads. A large mass of folks in attendance for the same thing. People dressed professionally at their jobs if working in the office. Remember the mini-skirts? Bell bottoms? You are so very correct about working your way up the ladder. I was hired at my first full-time position and as long as one was willing to learn, an employer was happy to train you. Me and a bunch of other ladies used to go out for lunch and down a couple of drinks with our sandwiches. No one ever said anything as long as we were back in time and able to perform our jobs. The vehicles were bigger back then even tho many were mechanical lemons. I miss the bench seats; they were so comfortable. Not these cheap bucket seats. Yes, the good 'ol days. We sound like our parents. LOL
I worked as an aerospace machinist in 1980 in a large machine shop. We made the cockpit voice recorders called the black box. They were fluorescent orange. Drinking on the job guilty—Company Christmas party. Smoking pot on the job guilty—Company Christmas party. Good times.
Lol. When I was working in a hospital, every Christmas season we'd go "order" cocktails from Sterile Processing, where the bartender was. I'd pull my 500 pound linen, trash, or food module around, with a mixed drink in hand, and a cigarette dangling from my mouth. Made the work a lot more fun. Thanks, Mike!
I didn't dare drink on the job. 50 people were waiting to jump at my every command, and I had to provide a sterling example. If I would have gotten tipsy or obnoxious, the operation would have fallen apart quicker than a jet fighter taking a power dive into the white sands of New Mexico.
No, it's not just you getting old, Donald. I'm six years younger than you, and I remember the same things. Nothing works anymore, and nothing gets done correctly...without one having to nag and make several phone calls. Slovenliness is now the norm (in the last month I have seen two people in their jammies at the grocery store)Yet, when I mention this to my contemporaries, no one else remembers these things. The reason the slow eroding of freedom works so well for the elites, is that people can't remember what happened last week...let alone 40 years ago. We are constantly advised to "live in the moment" which I think is hogwash, and being pushed by the elite to serve their ends.
In 1980, I had a boyfriend who was gravedigger and live-in caretaker at the largest Catholic cemetery on the West Coast. He, and all the guys on his crew, smoked pot and drank all day on the job. I must say, I grew very hardened after hearing stories about their on-the-job-antics. If they had to move a grave (frequent occurrence) and it was all bones, they would use pliars to extract the gold teeth from the skulls, to sell. "Death Stomp" was referring to when a casket was stubborn about easing into a grave liner. A worker would stomp up and down on the casket to get it to fit, sometimes cracking the casket top (it's probably a good idea for families to stick around for the grave closing). Yet, the cemetery was always immaculate, and the grounds were beautiful. I was up there last Memorial Day, and it was still well kept, but the the other cemetery I visited (one of the most expensive and high class graveyards in the county) was a total mess, and they barely made any effort for the day.
It is so frustrating to deal with a system that just does not function anymore. It used to be horror at the cost, when the furnace, water heater, etc. broke. Now my main concern is: will I be able to get a workman here in less than a month, and will he even know what he is doing? I keep thinking that this is how it must have felt to be living at the time of the fall of the Roman Empire
This month I actually shut down the water heater. I boil water in the kettle to wash the dishes and take a "cat bath". (I never took showers, and hot baths are now pretty much a thing of the past.) I have no washer or dryer either- well, the dryer works, but I don't use it. I have a furnace, but don't use that either. The temperature inside never falls below 53 degrees no matter how cold it outside. If it gets ridiculously cold, I can burn wood.
You do know, of course, that the "drug culture" was introduced in the 1960's via the US Military flying the stuff over from Vietnam. Then in the late '70's they established a cocaine pipeline from South America. Weed was similarly introduced, while its effects were radically exagerrated. ("Reefer Madness" comes to mind.)
Don, of course, lives way too close to the swamp, and you live in what has to be one of the most dysfunctional areas of the country- Portland, Oregon, where the Hippie Redneck meets the Liberated Yuppie. I saw my share of the dystopia in the Willamette Valley when my brother was studying for his doctorate at Eugene. The streets were cluttered with clueless college students learning how to be proficient at Peace Relations, whatever the heck that is.
It is only a matter of time until the runaway corruption and tyranny hit critical mass. Many people actually think they can improve things through impulsive violence. I just see the national temper rising to a boiling point. Don't know where exactly that is, but obviously, in both Church and State, the Powers-That-Be are doing everything imaginable to stoke those fires. That is the purpose of all the nonsense, 99% of which I simply don't follow anymore.
Just my dog, my fire, my cabin, and the Most Holy Rosary.
I never encountered a drunken employee in all the places I worked... and it was a bunch, because I was I "temporary employee" in a lot of places. Only once did I encounter a worker falling-down drunk- that was at a newspaper place in Raytown Missouri in the late '90's. All the other workers were covering for him. Allegedly he was running the presses but it was really the inkman commanding the show. My job was to insert a packet of coffee into every newspaper as they came down, only to watch them squirt out as the papers were bundled. I finally despaired of the process and counted out the packets for each bundle with a note to the paperboy to insert the packet into each newspaper he delivered.
The presses were 6 hours late that morning, and the route drivers were a mob scene, fighting over bundles to load into their vehicles. That was a morning I will never forget. I was supposed to get home at 7 in the morning but did not get in until 2 PM, with ma wondering where I was the last 18 hours.
I never encountered any pill pushers, either. But I suppose it was common as I was required to do several drug tests over the years. One test I refused to do because it was so invasive. The administrator wanted to be certain it was my urine that was going into the sample container...
Yes, back in the day life was more organic. And people did have a sense of duty and obligation, even when they were somewhat less than saints. They understood that life had boundaries, and that a certain level of commitment was necessary for the commonweal. That all changed sometime in the late '80's.
I don't think dopers were the dysfunctional morons portrayed in the movies. Those were rather the products of the public schools. I was always amazed at how somebody could go through 12 years of school and yet be dumber than dumb. In my short stint in the Air Force, I was helping one recruit improve his math skills for his job as a medic. The guy could not add fractions to save his soul. 2/5 + 1/6, and he was dumbfounded. Never learned how to find a common denominator. Heck, I had to find common denominators for complex algebraic polynomials all the time.
My steakhouse managers were allegedly college graduates. My cousin has a doctorate degree. Neither can string three sentences together without a significant grammatical error. Drink, Drank, Drunk. Think, Thank, Thunk. (Even google does not get it right.)
This morning I caught two minutes of morning television. I think the general population is as brain dead and trivial as those ladies I saw. Even with the volume muted, every facial expression shouted "COMPLETE AIRHEAD INSIDE".
I think they will have to cancel WW3. You mean, they are actually going to DRAFT these people?
I enjoyed your newspaper story because the last place I worked at was a delivery warehouse. The chaos to get out the Thanksgiving paper (with all the Black Friday ads) happened every year. Go in as soon as you could manage on Wednesday, work until about 10pm, home for a few hours of sleep, and then an all-nighter that went late into Thanksgiving morning. At least they fed us well.
Back in my youth I was a paperboy. In fact, our family had a newspaper delivery empire that encompassed all the apartment complexes in the area. So, yes, I know all about the monster Black Friday newspaper that used to be delivered on Turkey Day. In our neck of the woods we also had another monster newspaper- the day after Christmas, with all the sale ads. We had a station wagon and had to load it up three times with the 300 papers and make three separate trips when normally it took one.
Yes, I was the last rung in the propaganda machine.
But I have many happy memories from the days of the paper route empire, especially those crisp October days when you had to shuffle through piles of leaves.
The leaves were so much prettier before they started spraying the chemtrails and stressed all the trees.
Yes, its horrible to live here...but hopefully I will be out of here soon. I have not been inside the city limits in years. Portland celebrated Christmas with a fatal stabbing in a light rail carrage , and three traffic deaths (record high this year from vaxidents). City leaders have been trying to save Portland ( an impossible task), but pop-up holiday ice rinks will not lure shoppers downtown, when they fear violent attacks from the homeless. And these attacks happen several times a week. The city just fined their emergency responder contractor, half a million dollars. EMTs are swamped. Someone struck by a car recently died because it took emergency responders more than half an hour to respond. This is unfixable, because so many people are dropping dead from their clot shots, and so many EMTs are dropping dead from their mandated shots. The company needs to double their staff, but there is no one to take the place of the dead. Still, our brilliant leaders urge more boosters, as the solution to the emergency responder crisis.
Several of the hippies I used to know are dead from their clot shots. They fell for the counter culture psy-op 60 years ago, so naturally, they fell for the scamdemic. You can't fix stupid.
I also attended a lot of concerts in the 70s and 80s. It was a great time, no one was fighting or breaking bottles over each other's heads. A large mass of folks in attendance for the same thing. People dressed professionally at their jobs if working in the office. Remember the mini-skirts? Bell bottoms? You are so very correct about working your way up the ladder. I was hired at my first full-time position and as long as one was willing to learn, an employer was happy to train you. Me and a bunch of other ladies used to go out for lunch and down a couple of drinks with our sandwiches. No one ever said anything as long as we were back in time and able to perform our jobs. The vehicles were bigger back then even tho many were mechanical lemons. I miss the bench seats; they were so comfortable. Not these cheap bucket seats. Yes, the good 'ol days. We sound like our parents. LOL
I worked as an aerospace machinist in 1980 in a large machine shop. We made the cockpit voice recorders called the black box. They were fluorescent orange. Drinking on the job guilty—Company Christmas party. Smoking pot on the job guilty—Company Christmas party. Good times.
Lol. When I was working in a hospital, every Christmas season we'd go "order" cocktails from Sterile Processing, where the bartender was. I'd pull my 500 pound linen, trash, or food module around, with a mixed drink in hand, and a cigarette dangling from my mouth. Made the work a lot more fun. Thanks, Mike!
Old timer machinists had bottles of whiskey in their tool box. They hit on it all day long. Boss knew.
I didn't dare drink on the job. 50 people were waiting to jump at my every command, and I had to provide a sterling example. If I would have gotten tipsy or obnoxious, the operation would have fallen apart quicker than a jet fighter taking a power dive into the white sands of New Mexico.
My cockpit voice recorder would record the screams.
Nah, I think they would break the microphone.
No, it's not just you getting old, Donald. I'm six years younger than you, and I remember the same things. Nothing works anymore, and nothing gets done correctly...without one having to nag and make several phone calls. Slovenliness is now the norm (in the last month I have seen two people in their jammies at the grocery store)Yet, when I mention this to my contemporaries, no one else remembers these things. The reason the slow eroding of freedom works so well for the elites, is that people can't remember what happened last week...let alone 40 years ago. We are constantly advised to "live in the moment" which I think is hogwash, and being pushed by the elite to serve their ends.
In 1980, I had a boyfriend who was gravedigger and live-in caretaker at the largest Catholic cemetery on the West Coast. He, and all the guys on his crew, smoked pot and drank all day on the job. I must say, I grew very hardened after hearing stories about their on-the-job-antics. If they had to move a grave (frequent occurrence) and it was all bones, they would use pliars to extract the gold teeth from the skulls, to sell. "Death Stomp" was referring to when a casket was stubborn about easing into a grave liner. A worker would stomp up and down on the casket to get it to fit, sometimes cracking the casket top (it's probably a good idea for families to stick around for the grave closing). Yet, the cemetery was always immaculate, and the grounds were beautiful. I was up there last Memorial Day, and it was still well kept, but the the other cemetery I visited (one of the most expensive and high class graveyards in the county) was a total mess, and they barely made any effort for the day.
It is so frustrating to deal with a system that just does not function anymore. It used to be horror at the cost, when the furnace, water heater, etc. broke. Now my main concern is: will I be able to get a workman here in less than a month, and will he even know what he is doing? I keep thinking that this is how it must have felt to be living at the time of the fall of the Roman Empire
You summed it up perfectly, Kris. Thanks!
This month I actually shut down the water heater. I boil water in the kettle to wash the dishes and take a "cat bath". (I never took showers, and hot baths are now pretty much a thing of the past.) I have no washer or dryer either- well, the dryer works, but I don't use it. I have a furnace, but don't use that either. The temperature inside never falls below 53 degrees no matter how cold it outside. If it gets ridiculously cold, I can burn wood.
You do know, of course, that the "drug culture" was introduced in the 1960's via the US Military flying the stuff over from Vietnam. Then in the late '70's they established a cocaine pipeline from South America. Weed was similarly introduced, while its effects were radically exagerrated. ("Reefer Madness" comes to mind.)
Don, of course, lives way too close to the swamp, and you live in what has to be one of the most dysfunctional areas of the country- Portland, Oregon, where the Hippie Redneck meets the Liberated Yuppie. I saw my share of the dystopia in the Willamette Valley when my brother was studying for his doctorate at Eugene. The streets were cluttered with clueless college students learning how to be proficient at Peace Relations, whatever the heck that is.
It is only a matter of time until the runaway corruption and tyranny hit critical mass. Many people actually think they can improve things through impulsive violence. I just see the national temper rising to a boiling point. Don't know where exactly that is, but obviously, in both Church and State, the Powers-That-Be are doing everything imaginable to stoke those fires. That is the purpose of all the nonsense, 99% of which I simply don't follow anymore.
Just my dog, my fire, my cabin, and the Most Holy Rosary.
I never encountered a drunken employee in all the places I worked... and it was a bunch, because I was I "temporary employee" in a lot of places. Only once did I encounter a worker falling-down drunk- that was at a newspaper place in Raytown Missouri in the late '90's. All the other workers were covering for him. Allegedly he was running the presses but it was really the inkman commanding the show. My job was to insert a packet of coffee into every newspaper as they came down, only to watch them squirt out as the papers were bundled. I finally despaired of the process and counted out the packets for each bundle with a note to the paperboy to insert the packet into each newspaper he delivered.
The presses were 6 hours late that morning, and the route drivers were a mob scene, fighting over bundles to load into their vehicles. That was a morning I will never forget. I was supposed to get home at 7 in the morning but did not get in until 2 PM, with ma wondering where I was the last 18 hours.
I never encountered any pill pushers, either. But I suppose it was common as I was required to do several drug tests over the years. One test I refused to do because it was so invasive. The administrator wanted to be certain it was my urine that was going into the sample container...
Yes, back in the day life was more organic. And people did have a sense of duty and obligation, even when they were somewhat less than saints. They understood that life had boundaries, and that a certain level of commitment was necessary for the commonweal. That all changed sometime in the late '80's.
I don't think dopers were the dysfunctional morons portrayed in the movies. Those were rather the products of the public schools. I was always amazed at how somebody could go through 12 years of school and yet be dumber than dumb. In my short stint in the Air Force, I was helping one recruit improve his math skills for his job as a medic. The guy could not add fractions to save his soul. 2/5 + 1/6, and he was dumbfounded. Never learned how to find a common denominator. Heck, I had to find common denominators for complex algebraic polynomials all the time.
My steakhouse managers were allegedly college graduates. My cousin has a doctorate degree. Neither can string three sentences together without a significant grammatical error. Drink, Drank, Drunk. Think, Thank, Thunk. (Even google does not get it right.)
This morning I caught two minutes of morning television. I think the general population is as brain dead and trivial as those ladies I saw. Even with the volume muted, every facial expression shouted "COMPLETE AIRHEAD INSIDE".
I think they will have to cancel WW3. You mean, they are actually going to DRAFT these people?
You have got to be kidding.
I enjoyed your newspaper story because the last place I worked at was a delivery warehouse. The chaos to get out the Thanksgiving paper (with all the Black Friday ads) happened every year. Go in as soon as you could manage on Wednesday, work until about 10pm, home for a few hours of sleep, and then an all-nighter that went late into Thanksgiving morning. At least they fed us well.
Back in my youth I was a paperboy. In fact, our family had a newspaper delivery empire that encompassed all the apartment complexes in the area. So, yes, I know all about the monster Black Friday newspaper that used to be delivered on Turkey Day. In our neck of the woods we also had another monster newspaper- the day after Christmas, with all the sale ads. We had a station wagon and had to load it up three times with the 300 papers and make three separate trips when normally it took one.
Yes, I was the last rung in the propaganda machine.
But I have many happy memories from the days of the paper route empire, especially those crisp October days when you had to shuffle through piles of leaves.
The leaves were so much prettier before they started spraying the chemtrails and stressed all the trees.
regards in the Holy Hearts of Jesus and Mary.
Yes, its horrible to live here...but hopefully I will be out of here soon. I have not been inside the city limits in years. Portland celebrated Christmas with a fatal stabbing in a light rail carrage , and three traffic deaths (record high this year from vaxidents). City leaders have been trying to save Portland ( an impossible task), but pop-up holiday ice rinks will not lure shoppers downtown, when they fear violent attacks from the homeless. And these attacks happen several times a week. The city just fined their emergency responder contractor, half a million dollars. EMTs are swamped. Someone struck by a car recently died because it took emergency responders more than half an hour to respond. This is unfixable, because so many people are dropping dead from their clot shots, and so many EMTs are dropping dead from their mandated shots. The company needs to double their staff, but there is no one to take the place of the dead. Still, our brilliant leaders urge more boosters, as the solution to the emergency responder crisis.
Several of the hippies I used to know are dead from their clot shots. They fell for the counter culture psy-op 60 years ago, so naturally, they fell for the scamdemic. You can't fix stupid.
No, you can't fix stupid. Hope you get out. I plan on making a run for the border soon.