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Not a man to be budged

My mother’s brother, Sam, defined the lexicon, “piece of work.” He was Gibraltar, the Great Pyramid, Jonah, and Antarctica. He wasn’t going to be moved or pushed out of the way for anything or anyone. He had a heart of gold and a will of steel. He had no match on earth, except for Aunt Vera. He might have been Samson but she was Delilah. There were many times when Sammy stepped in it or was challenged. For instance, when he was a boy, his father, my grandfather (Pop), would warn him to not tease the dog, a German Shepard. Sammy wasn’t afraid of anything with four legs. He would tease the dog and stick out his tongue at it; once too many, the dog bit him, scarred his nose and almost took his tongue. Who did they move, the dog of course. Sam had a lot of friends. His loyalty to them knew no bounds and they were forever. Sometimes he would embarrass them. Sam, Vera and a bunch of plumbing buddies along with my Mom and Dad were headed on a tropical vacation courtesy of a local plumbing
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HOW DO YOU LIKE PLUMBING SO FAR?

My Dad taught me early on about the power of labor, free hands, and no pay. Whenever he was able, he’d use us kids to do all those little things on his worksite that made the project easy… for others. I was exposed to a lot of tradesmen in my early youth, most of them were related. In those days it was not uncommon to trade labor, favors or just a helping hand with your relatives and friends. In several instances of my childhood abuses, I was assigned as the plumber’s helper on many of my Dads projects. He had many projects as he and Mom kept cranking out kids. The plumbers were great guys all of them. They were also my uncles and while I loved them all.  In those early years I didn’t appreciate their craft as my assignments with them didn’t allow for it. “Don’t ask questions, stay ahead of their needs, no talking, no walking, run from place to place,” Dad would order. My uncles became spoiled working for my Dad, they had their own personal, adolescent robot each time they came o
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Willie goes on a run...

The fire department is full of character  heroes. One such was Willie,  a  notorious drinker until his late fifties  before  the realization of a sober life overtook him. H e  had  eviscerated the idea that his heroism was generated by the rocket fuel (booze ) of  choice. He was  also  a badass clean sober.   Before he became a sober thinker, he was notorious for going on runs and doing whatever ,  independent of any guidelines or behavior. It was at a Reno golf outing that he made his most fa mous assault upon logic.  The three-day golf tournament was  truly a test for the stamina of the body, mind  and  most  importantly the liver. Willie was taking care of two out of the three.   We had a  tournament  banquet  dinner, preceded by a hosted cocktail  party,  subsidized by free cocktails all day and night as long as you were gambling.  With wine at the table, Willie ’ s sobriety level  first came into question ;  then  was destroyed and buried. H e was toasted and roasted.  A
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