Down In the BaseMENT - Part 2

I wrote "baseMENT" like that because I wanted to emphasize the "MENT" like my granddaughter Lily does. I don't know who taught her the word, but it's just so country the way she puts the accent on the last syllable, and I love it! She sounds like her Momma Judy!

Lily has been shown and warned about opening the door to our basement because it appears in the hall as just another bedroom door. When the door is opened it is dark and you can't see the steep steps below. We always carefully guide visitors to this door, turn on the downstairs lights, and then down the steps ahead of them so no one gets injured.

When Katie Bug, one of our other granddaughters, was about 11 or 12, she invited a friend to come with her to visit us. Before either of us could react, the little girl opened the door and walked out into the darkness, expecting a bedroom floor, and fell all the way to the basement!

UPDATE: Katie reminded me tonight that the girl was wearing a hula hoop when she fell! I also installed the lock I've been putting off today...now I can relax when kids are running the halls.

Judy lunged for the basement door, flipped the lights on, and was at the bottom in seconds, while Katie stood stunned at the top. I was in the kitchen, frozen to the floor, waiting to hear the worst, knowing she had either broken something or had been killed...seriously!

I was so relieved to hear Judy ask her if she was okay and the girl answer, although very embarrassed. She's alive, I said almost aloud, and thanked God for protecting her! It was truly a miracle and I still thank God for making it turn out well.

I've written posts about my baseMENT previously, once about repairing computers there, and again about some of the things I've made there. However, I thought I would do one about my junky work area, mostly so Bruno and Jeff can enlarge the shots and make funny comments about what I've collected!

Bruno, especially, loves workshops or "man holes", old engines, and anything he can tinker with and bring back to life! He knows how I peruse his shop photos, even the photos near his computer, for odd and interesting artifacts. He should have a ball with these.

I must explain the "Thunder Mule" license plate, because even he would not figure out that this hung on the front of all my Mustangs except for the '68 (just noticed there's no '89 shot in that linked post). It's a phrase my brother, Wade, came up with while looking at my '89. I found it to be very appropriate and so it stuck!

I might also say that I have no idea how those WMA signs got there...I think a game warden gave them to me!

As for the Superman work apron, it was originally made for me by a lovely co-worker when I worked at the Roane County NEWS, back in my newspaper advertising days. Something happened to the first one, and another lady (Diane Strahm), at another job, saw an old photo (see attached) of the apron and made me another.

If there are any other questions about things in these shots, please leave a comment.

I am very proud of the 8 foot table shown (it sits to the right of the tool bench). I made this out of 2X6s and 1" marine plywood. I would wager that it would easily support a car! It's very sturdy and makes a wonderful flat surface for special projects like gun cleaning, painting, gluing, building birdhouses, etc., and repairing computers!

The workshop is fairly functional with a drill press (not a good one), a grinding wheel, a vice, a table saw, a miter saw, a router station, and lots of tools, some of which were left to me in my dad's old tool box. Some have "TVA" stamped on them, but like me, he would have had the same thing to say, "I don't know how these got into my tool box...probably by some foreman somewhere as a reward for all my hard work!"

There are bins, jars, and sack full's of nuts and bolts, handed down from my dad, and nails. Everyone needs antique nuts and bolts! There are even some things there I don't even know the use of, or how they even got there, which makes standing there sometimes very interesting and rewarding.

The basement has gotten cluttered over the sixteen or so years we've lived here. There are tables, cabinets, an office desk and chairs that Judy got when her company closed its doors, the upper part of an entertainment center that had to be removed to make room for our 46" HD TV (It was better than buying a new outfit and very ingenious on my part, I must say!), a deer head, tree stand, exercise equipment, lawn tools and other implements of destruction, a gun safe, camping and hiking gear, and seasonal decorations that Judy handles, and, of course, my Hot Wheels® collection! You will remember this collection used to be in my bedroom!

Way back in the dark left corner (not shown in photo), there is a 2 yard by 9 yard room just made for an indoor firing range. I used yards because 9 yards is the perfect "combat" small arms range distance! I still want to put up some steel and sand at one end and blast away. However, I could never haul a 1" thick 6X9 foot steel sheet back into that corner with even three people helping me. Still, it's a great pipe dream that could still come true.

I know that someday all this junk has to be hauled away. It's sad to think about, because it's all a part of me, part of my dad, but there is no room for this in any one garage, basement, or kitchen tool drawer. If it isn't just dumped, it will have to be parceled off through some tedious "yard sale" to strangers.

The same thing happened when my dad passed...I got some, and Wade took some, but most of it was trashed. All our "someday dreams" die with us! Yeah, it's sad, but it's not unique to any of us.

So, the bottom line here was to give Bruno, and anyone else interested, something to do in his spare time - rummage through my basement! Have at it!

ANOTHER SPECIAL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Judy and I got up off our lazy butts mid-week and did a little antique and Wal-Mart shopping! What fun!

Anyway, we got cleaned up and shaved our faces and other personal places, and got publicly presentable. For some reason we took a few photos of each other, using the ol’ outstretched arm technique! I suppose we took them so we can remember what we look like when we are “cleaned up,” and ended the session with a big hug!

“What’s that?” she asked. “Are you happy to see me or are you 'packing' again?”

Well sir, right here is where a man has to be careful. “I’m always glad to see you ‘sweet-angel-baby’s-doll-face,’ (that’s my little cutesy name I’ve had for her for almost 28 years now) but I’m also packin',” I said unconvincingly! “Now, won’t you feel safe and secure at ‘Walley World’?”

So, that’s what led to the “carry shot” on the left.

There is a new flea market inside the old block shell where the old Wal-Mart used to be, so we walked up and down the long aisles. Judy was hoping there was an Avon booth among all the knick-knack places, and I scanned the bric-a-brac for Hot Wheels®, beer and shot glasses. I like those kind of places, basically just for killing time, but really in the hopes I will spot a toy I had as a kid, or something my grandmother had years ago.

All the time, all we could hear were the “special adults” making strange noises over in the snack bar section! I think the folks who take care of these mentally challenged people during the day are “special” themselves, but it is obvious they take them to “flea markets” and similar places because they can feed them cheaply, and without having to worry about the mess they may make.

I wish I felt more comfortable around them, but I have to admit they make me nervous, and plainly it is because I don’t know how to react. I truly wish I did, but I don’t. I missed that training somewhere along the way. You have to understand my short coming, especially when I relate how one of them stood beside me and yelled at another one “You ain’t dying, u-just chokin’ ur sompin’, and the other one suddenly projectile vomited a hotdog and French fries right in front of me. Surely you can understand my anxiousness around them!

So, we left the commotion and scrambling around for bio-cleanup implements, the antique dust, and all the Chinese made junk, and headed for the new Wal-Mart for "upscale" Chinese junk!

I always peruse the Hot Wheels® as we pass the toy section on the way to the food section, and, low and behold, I spotted a couple more Mustang and AC Cobra treasures for my collection! Thank God, the day was not a total loss.

I’ve been collecting Mustangs, Thunderbirds, and AC Cobras for several years. They once held a prominent spot in my bedroom, but Judy insisted they now wait on my attentions down in the dark basement. I suppose that’s okay, the collection has not suffered, but instead has grown since being relegated to obscurity!

My collection spans Hot Wheels®, Matchbox, and the Johnny Lightning series. I only collect Ford Mustangs and Thunderbirds, and anything with Carroll Shelby’s name or trademark on it! I don’t know why…so don’t ask…I just love them! I do know that Carroll Shelby has always been a hero of mine!

Back home, I again felt safe and tried not to think too much about our "special" fun day in the neighborhood.

MY WIFE IS KICKING HER LITTLE BOY OUT!

I was bribed today with a great meal and some cold beer to accompany my wife to the Oak Factory Outlet! The mission was to find me an oak dresser to match my other bedroom furniture. Up until now, I had a mix of oak and painted pine, which was fine with me! The red dresser I now use matches the shelves I built many moons ago to hold my Hot Wheels Mustang and AC Cobra collection.

Now honestly, don’t it look fine the way it is? Women!

Now I’ll have to take them all down to the basement and patch the holes in the wall the shelves made. The next thing she’ll want me to do is replace the race car border! It won’t be my room anymore!

She once had a hen party and one lady walking through the house commented, “I didn’t know you had a little boy.”

“Yes, I do, and he’s my husband. That’s his room!” my wife told her.

Never had a room of my own growing up, and I roomed with 35 other dudes in the Air Force, or 6 in the tent in Vietnam, and then I got married. I was thrilled when my snoring forced me into my own room – or die! Then, right when I get it the way I want it…I have to grow up and get an adult room.

It just isn’t fair I tell you!

Okay vote: How many like it the way it is? How many the way it will be?